Mr. Park Lane (The Mister) - Page 43

I paced. Hartford hadn’t mentioned anything about not feeling well when she was waiting for David to arrive. In fact, she’d texted me to say she couldn’t believe the bar was charging thirty-five pounds for a cocktail. That meant either the cocktail had made her sick . . .

Or her date had.

Patience had never been my strong suit, and I wasn’t about to change now. I wanted to know what had happened.

I slipped out of my flat and across the hall. I resisted the urge to bang on her front door. Instead, I tapped out another text. Want some company?

No response.

Well aware I was being a pushy bastard, I knocked on the door.

I waited. And waited. But I heard her come to the other side of the door.

“What do you want, Joshua? I’m going to have an early night.”

I could hear the sadness in her voice. It wasn’t the Hartford I knew, and I wanted to know what was going on. “Tell me what happened?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Really, it’s absolutely not important—” Her voice caught and she fell silent.

Dread twisted in my gut at the tone of her voice. Something terrible had happened. I’d never seen her like this. “Did he hurt you?”

“God, no. Nothing like that. All I have is a bruised ego.”

Thank goodness she wasn’t physically hurt. But I didn’t like the idea that any part of her was bruised. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine. There are people worse off—I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”

“Stop,” I said. “You’re allowed to be sad, Hartford. If you can’t be upset because there are worse off people in the world, then by your logic, you can’t be happy unless you’re the happiest person in the world. Your situation might not be tragic, but it doesn’t mean you don’t need a shoulder to cry on and a piece of cake to eat.”

The urge to pull the door from its hinges and wrap my arms around her was close to overwhelming.

I just wanted to hold her.

“I’m okay, Joshua, but thank you for checking on me.”

What could I do? I wanted to take away whatever it was that was making her sad. But I couldn’t beat down the door and demand she smile. Could I? “Okay, well, I’m going to stay here for a while and if you want to talk, I’m just the other side of the door. If you don’t want to talk, I’m still just the other side of the door.”

I leaned against the wall, ready to stay for a while. I needed her to know I was nearby if she needed me.

“I’m being ridiculous,” she said eventually.

“Impossible.”

“He didn’t do anything. In some ways he was kinder to just . . . you know.” She sighed. “I just need a dose of Bravo and a good night’s sleep.”

The lift doors pinged open and one of the porters from the residences appeared, holding a box of cupcakes. “Well, I could add a cupcake to that mix if it helps?” I took the box and nodded a silent thank-you.

“You have cake?” Her voice was still flat but she answered a little quicker than she had done before.

“I do. You want me to leave them in front of the door?”

After a bit of rustling, the door creaked open. “Come in,” she said. Her eyes were puffy and red rimmed. She’d definitely been crying.

I’d kill David when I found him.

I caught the door before it swung closed and followed her into the sitting room. “You want plates?”

“I need water. You want a glass?”

I followed her to the kitchen and slid the tray of cupcakes onto the island. “Water would be great.”

She handed me a glass and her gaze slid to the cakes. “Is there a cookies and cream one?”

I pinged open the lid. “Looks like there are three.”

She climbed up onto a bar stool, which brought her almost to the same height as me. “That should do it.”

I didn’t think I’d ever seen her actually finish a whole cupcake. Things must be bad if she was thinking about eating three. I pulled in a breath, trying to rein in my need to find out what the hell was going on.

“I don’t want to make a big thing about this.” She reached for a cake and turned it around in her hands, as if trying to decide which bit she was going to eat first.

“Okay.” I leaned on the counter next to her seat, bracing myself for what came next.

She scooped a tiny bit of frosting from the cake and popped it into her mouth and sighed. “He arrived, ordered a drink, then after about two minutes, said he wasn’t interested and left.”

I clenched my fists and did my best to keep my thoughts to myself. What. A. Twat.

At least he hadn’t touched her. The guy was an idiot for not being interested in Hartford. But that had to be his loss. I wouldn’t let it affect her. “Tell me everything from the beginning.”

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