Meet me in the bar for a drink at about nine?
Just the two of them. The start of something that might or might not work out.
But that was the whole point of this time together. To see what they might still have—and whether it was worth the possible upheaval. Because, if they were to have a future together, they’d have to find some kind of compromise about where they lived.
See you at nine, she texted back. She knew he wouldn’t get the message while he was driving, but he’d maybe pick it up if he stopped for a break, or when he got to the hotel.
She changed into a pretty top and smart black trousers, and called a taxi to take her to the hotel for nine; it meant she could have a glass of wine with Brad without worrying about being over the limit for driving home. And how strange that she felt like a teenager about to go on her first date with a boy she’d secretly liked for months. Second time round, shouldn’t it all be calm and collected and adult? But she could hardly wait to see him. Just like the years when they really had been teenagers, sneaking time together between their studies.
There was a group of businessmen in the bar, all wearing lanyards; clearly they’d been at some sort of conference in the hotel and were letting off some steam after a hard day’s work, judging by the amount of hearty laughter and empty glasses at their table. There was no sign of Brad. Maybe he was still in his room.
Abigail went over to the reception desk. ‘Excuse me, please. I’m meant to be meeting Bradley Powell here. I wondered if you could call his room for me, please?’
The receptionist checked her computer. ‘Sorry, he hasn’t checked in yet.’
He’d probably been held up in traffic, Abigail thought. ‘When he does check in, could you let him know that Abigail Scott is waiting for him in the bar, please?’
‘Of course,’ the receptionist said with a smile.
Feeling slightly awkward, Abigail ordered an orange juice at the bar, and tried to find herself a quiet corner. She was playing a word game on her phone to keep herself busy while she waited, when one of the businessmen came over to her, holding an almost empty pint glass.
‘On your own, sweetheart?’ he asked.
‘No, I’m waiting for someone,’ she said.
‘Well, you can have a drink with me while you’re waiting.’
He sounded slightly drunk, slurring his words, and Abigail sighed inwardly. She was used to dealing with difficult customers over the years, so she knew how to keep the situation from escalating. She kept her voice calm and anodyne. ‘It’s very kind of you to offer, but no, thank you.’
‘But a girl as pretty as you needs company.’
She forbore from correcting him that she was a woman, not a girl, and suppressed her irritation. It looked as if she was going to have to take the cracked record approach. ‘It’s very kind of you to offer, but no, thank you,’ she repeated firmly.
‘Go on, sweetheart. What’s the harm in it?’ He swayed towards her.
‘No, thank you,’ she said yet again.
‘It’s only a little drink, sweetheart. Come and join me and the boys. We could do wi—’
‘I said no, thank you,’ she cut in. ‘Now, would you please leave me alone?’
‘You don’t mean that, sweetheart.’ He looked her up and down. ‘Or maybe just you and me, then, not the boys.’
Abigail had had enough. She stood up and was at the point of walking over to the bartender and asking him to deal with the man when Brad walked over to her.
‘Sorry I’m late, darling. Reception told me you were waiting in here for me.’ He greeted her with a kiss. ‘Traffic was horrible and my phone decided not to work, so I couldn’t call you and warn you how late I’d be, and...’ He looked at the man who’d been trying to chat her up, and suddenly seemed to be six inches taller and broader. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,’ he said politely, though his voice contained a hint of steel. ‘Are you a friend of my wife’s, or maybe one of her business associates?’
‘I... Sorry.’ The man raised his free hand in surrender and backed away as if he’d been scalded. ‘No offence, darlin’. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean anything.’ And, to Abigail’s relief, he stumbled off back to his colleagues.