She shrugs. ‘OK,’ she agrees and slips into the chair next to Ria.
‘Bring us a Bollinger,’ I tell the waitress.
She nods and scurries away as if I bite. I sit down and lean back, curling my hand loosely around my pint glass.
‘Do you still have Bertie?’ Ria asks.
‘Of course. She’s a dead woman if she leaves me.’
Layla’s eyes open wide.
Ria laughs. ‘Yeah right. You’re dead if she leaves you, you mean.’
Ria turns to Layla. ‘Bertie was a housecleaner in Florida and came here to visit her niece who was going out with BJ. The niece invited BJ to their home, Bertie cooked him a meal, and the rest is history. She’s amazing. She takes American comfort food and fuses it with European, Mexican, and Asian recipes. You won’t believe how good they come out. Hard to imagine, but all those posh people out there, they could go to the best restaurants in London, instead they come here for Bertie the housecleaner’s food.’
‘Wow.’
She turns to me. ‘But you prefer the plain comfort food though, don’t ya?’
‘Give me a plate of fried chicken and I’m a happy man,’ I say lightly.
Ria laughs. ‘I love coming here.’
The champagne arrives, gets poured, and the girls take their polite little sips.
There is the sound of birds tweeting. It has Ria reaching into her purse for her phone. She looks at the screen, frowns, and says, ‘Sorry, I have to take this.’
‘Of course,’ Layla says.
I gaze at her expressionlessly.
‘Oh no,’ she exclaims dramatically. ‘Noooo. Really? Do you want me to come over?’
I turn my attention to Layla. She is staring at Ria worriedly.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll take a cab. I’ll be with you in 20 minutes at the most. No, no, of course not. No, they won’t mind.’
She ends the call and looks at me then Layla. ‘I’m so sorry, but a friend of mine has just gotten some bad news. I’ve got to go and be with her. I hope you guys don’t mind.’
I shake my head.
Layla says nothing. Just stares at Ria.
Ria turns to me. ‘You will give Layla a ride back home, won’t you?’
‘Sure, I’ll give Layla a ride,’ I say.
SIXTEEN
Layla
One corner of his mouth crooks up. I love his mouth. The way he says ride is slow and sexy. I bet he can give me a ride. Silently, I watch Ria glug her champagne down as fast as is humanly possible. Her eyes drift longingly to the bottle, but she stands and comes towards me. I allow her to hurriedly air peck both my cheeks and watch while she does the same to BJ. Then she is gone.
And I meet his eyes. ‘There’s no emergency is there?’
Utterly unperturbed he grins. ‘Of course not.’
I stand up.
He looks up at me. His eyes are no longer lazy, and tame. They are unblinking and burning with a fire-like intensity. ‘You’re all grown up now, Layla. You don’t really need a chaperone, do you?’
‘No, but I don’t appreciate being manipulated.’
‘Would you have come on your own?’
I pause. ‘I guess not.’
‘Do you want me to call Ria back?’ he asks gently.
My shoulders sag. Of course I don’t. I know what I’m here for. My anger is totally irrational, a result of nervous energy.
‘Sit down,’ he says softly. ‘I promise it’ll be the best fried chicken you’ll ever eat.’
I take a deep breath and reoccupy the chair I’d vacated. He smiles.
There is something about this man …. Even when he was 15 and I had convinced myself that I thoroughly disliked him, he was still that tough insouciant who stared at me. Now that he’s all grown up and forbidden to me, his magnetism whispers and beckons irresistibly. I want him. I want him more than I’ve wanted anything else in my life. I want him so much it’s an ache somewhere deep inside me.
‘Are you hungry?’ he asks casually, the tone totally at odds with what I see in his eyes.
The reptilian brain lurking inside my head is not in the mood for pillow talk or cuddles or food. It wants what it wants. And what it wants is a fuck. A mindless fuck of epic proportions.
I shake my head and stare at his sexy mouth hungrily.
He lifts his eyebrows. ‘You’re radiating sex right now.’
My breath comes faster. ‘Oh yeah?’
His nostrils flare. ‘Yeah. You’re giving me a raging hard-on.’
God that was delivered deep and sexy. Strange, my family made me believe I was made of sugar and spice and everything nice, and I have turned out to be made of an inner itching that makes me lewd and lusting.
I stand up and walk over to the door to turn the lock.