The Bad Boy Wants Me(43)

‘Dad’s right. You’re special,’ she says.

I flush with pleasure. I like Britney’s dad. He’s a nice man. He reminds me of an absent-minded, kindly professor. ‘You know when I told you that twin story. I hadn’t heard about your twin then.’

‘I know that. Anyway that’s a cute story. It taught me something,’ she says with a happy smile.

‘Good. How do you feel now?’ I ask.

‘I feel as if I finally figured out a 10,000-piece jigsaw puzzle that I’ve been working on for seventeen years. I don’t feel happy or victorious, but I do feel vindicated. I don’t ever have to think that I am weird, or there’s something wrong with me anymore. I’m just like everybody else, only I lost my other half.’

‘Yeah?’ I say, smiling at her.

‘Yeah, and you know what else, I feel stronger and more sure about the future.’

‘Oh, Britney. I’m so happy for you.’

She lowers her voice. ‘I guess while I’m here we might as well discuss the surprise birthday party that Dad is throwing for me this Saturday.’

‘Huh? You know about that?’

‘Duh! Of course. Dad’s got a mark on his calendar saying, ‘Britney’s surprise birthday party.’’

I laugh. That is exactly the kind of thing I would have expected from Britney’s dad.

‘Don’t you think you should tell me about it so I can make some of the important decisions, and it doesn’t turn out to be a complete disaster?’

I laugh. ‘No flies on you,’ I say.



It is nearly midnight and I’m already in bed when Cash texts me.

Meet me?

As soon as I see the message my heart starts pounding.

Where r u?

His answer is instantaneous.

Around the corner.

My hands are shaking with excitement as I type.

C u soon.

I don’t know where he was when he texted me, but I have only enough time to leap out of bed and get dressed before the door opens and he is standing there, scruff on his face and some kind of dangerous in his eyes. Bad ass sexy, he is.

‘Hey,’ I whisper.

He doesn’t speak, just walks up to me and molds his body to mine. ‘God, I missed your body,’ he whispers hoarsely. Our eyes lock, his eat me up. He bends his head and inhales the smell of my hair.

Thank God I washed it this evening.

‘Come on,’ he says. ‘I’m taking you to a party.’

‘What?’ I blurt out. ‘I’m not dressed for a party.’

‘We’ll dress at my place,’ he says.

‘What do you mean?’

He lays his fingers on my lips. ‘Shhh … just trust me.’

Suddenly, the night seems to hold the most exciting adventure.

‘OK,’ I whisper, and we tip-toe out of his father’s house.

Outside the front door, he stops to light a cigarette and puts it between his lips.

‘No security again?’ I say.

‘Nope, but they’ll be around later.’ He lights up, inhales deeply and we walk down the street to where his car is parked. He flicks away the cigarette and we get in.

It is a strange feeling driving through the mostly empty streets of London, the top down, the wind in my hair. I turn to look at Cash and I cannot help the sensation that my heart will break with all the love I feel for him. He turns towards me and smiles crookedly.

His apartment is in Park Lane, on the top floor of an old building. We take the lift and Cash puts his key in the door. His apartment is like his house. All glass and modern. The living room is a vast empty area. The walls are lined with couches. Perfect for a party. There is a large modern painting on one wall.

‘Where’s the party?’ I ask.

‘In easily the most unique club in London. It’s called The Box.’ He adds, ‘No mobile phones or cameras allowed so everything that happens in The Box stays in The Box.’

He opens a door to a room where there is a bed with a whole load of shoe boxes on it, and a clothes rail on wheels.

‘Go on. Find something there to wear. The dress code is glam/posh.’

‘How did you know my size?’

‘You left your dress behind at my house. I gave it to my PA, Alison. What you see there is her best effort.’

I stare at him. He went to a lot of trouble ‘Thank you,’ I murmur.

‘I’ll be next door getting my gear on.’

He shuts the door and I rifle through the clothes. O la la! Each one is quite simply to-die-for stunning. I have never owned anything so expensive or so fine in all my life. It’s really hard to choose, but eventually I settle for a gorgeous black and gold dress.

The label says Orchidees Noires and it is very Great Gatsbyish. The bodice is made entirely of burnished gold flowers, with shimmering gold thread holding the flowers together. It is sleeveless with a deep neckline. There are no flowers at the waist, then they start again on the short billowing tulle skirt. At hip level the flowers stop and the rest of the skirt is pure black tulle.