‘I make money because I’m pretty,’ she continued with irritation. ‘Because I’m European. Because I don’t want to get married to the first guy who shows interest. And the Asian guys love me. I don’t fuck. I just dance, and I make a lot of cash doing it. Speaking of which, are you going to buy me a drink? My bosses are watching.’
‘I don’t pay to talk to girls.’
‘Yes, you have that look about you,’ she said, turning on her heel.
Miles pulled her back. This girl was affecting him. Not in an obvious sexual way, but there was something about her that made him want to keep talking to her.
‘Why don’t we meet later?’ he said. ‘Not for money. Because you want to.’
She was about to laugh it off, but then saw Miles was serious. She hesitated.
‘I’m at the Marriott in Karon Bay,’ he said quickly. ‘Come by for a drink at the bar later.’
She shook her head slightly. ‘When I’m off duty, I’m off duty.’
Miles smiled. ‘Come on. I thought you came to Phuket for adventure. ’
She raised that sculpted eyebrow again. ‘You could be anyone.’
‘Do I look like Jack the Ripper?’
‘Just because you’re wearing Ralph Lauren doesn’t mean you don’t want a freebie fuck with a go-go girl.’
Miles smiled slightly. ‘Thanks for making me sound so cheap,’ he said. ‘Not many people can do that, believe me.’
She laughed. Suddenly she seemed to make a decision. ‘I finish at one a.m.,’ she said. ‘There’s a little bar in Karon Bay called The Red Parrot. One drink. And I’m buying.’
And with that, she walked off into the crowd. Miles grinned at her back, feeling strangely buoyant.
‘Strike out with the redhead?’ said Zac sympathetically. He had a Thai girl with waist-length hair sitting on his knee, simpering.
‘Can’t win ’em all, can you?’ said Miles, signalling to the barman and wondering how long he could leave it before he got rid of Tom and Zac.
24
She was twenty minutes late. Miles had considered leaving, but when she walked through the door in white jeans and a tight red T-shirt, he was glad he had swallowed his pride and stayed. She looked fantastic and Miles was particularly pleased that she looked even better in this relaxed setting. Karon Bay was just two miles down the Suwang Road but a million miles away from the fluoro pink lights and sex tourists of Patong. Chrissy Devine (‘The name on my birth certificate,’ she smiled. ‘I was born to be a go-go dancer, wasn’t I?’) had been in Thailand for almost eighteen months, lured to the exotic East when an ex-boyfriend had told her about the money to be made on the strip. She ordered Miles a cocktail – not bothering to ask if he wanted one – and pulled him over to the pool table where she expertly potted four balls in quick succession.
‘So that’s me,’ she smiled, lining up her next shot, breasts almost spilling out of the low scoop of her T-shirt. ‘What about you? On a round-the-world ticket with Daddy’s money until he finds you something at the family firm?’
Miles laughed. He loved the fact that she didn’t mind pissing him off. Girls usually tiptoed around him, twirling their fingers in their hair, careful not to say the wrong thing, careful not to upset the highly eligible Miles Ashford. Chrissy was different, crackling with sexual energy and attitude. Miles could feel himself getting aroused as much as the night before.
‘You’re right about the round-the-world trip. But wrong about Daddy’s money.’
‘So you work?’
‘No. Inheritance.’
‘Lucky you,’ she replied with a small throaty laugh. ‘The only thing I got from my family was a rejection complex.’
‘Really? What happened?’
Chrissy waved a hand in the air. ‘Oh, just the usual story. My dad pissed off when I was nine, Mum got a new boyfriend, and they started breeding like rabbits to get a bigger house off the council. Once the new kids came along, me and my brother were pushed to the side. My brother didn’t handle it very well. You can see him hanging around Hastings harbour now trying to score heroin.’
‘Christ,’ said Miles, trying not to look as shocked as he felt. He had never met the benefit scroungers he’d read about in the tabloids, and he’d certainly never met a junkie. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ said Chrissy. ‘My brother was always a loser. I got out as soon as I could. I went to Amsterdam when I was seventeen, then Tokyo, working in bars for a couple of years until I’d saved up the cash to come here.’
He did the arithmetic. ‘So you’re twenty-one?’ He was surprised. She didn’t look the same age as him. He was suddenly more impressed with her worldliness. ‘How long are you going to keep doing this?’