Mr. Mayfair (Mister) - Page 7

“I’m pretty sure Dermot Mulroney isn’t for hire, and that film didn’t take social media into account. People would just look up a hired boyfriend. Find out he charges by the hour, and I’ll look like a total idiot. So really, I am

thinking about myself.”

“Yeah, maybe. He needs to be some hotshot international businessman or Hollywood actor or—”

“At least know how to wear a suit,” I said.

“Speaking of,” Florence said, staring over my shoulder.

I turned and saw what Florence was fixated on. Or more accurately, who. He wasn’t her usual type. Tall, yes, but Florence usually went for blonds. Thick, dark hair, olive skin, and the square jaw was more my type. In theory, anyway.

In practice . . . Well, Matt hadn’t been short exactly, but we were the same height when I wore heels. He was handsome—to me anyway. But he wasn’t the kind of guy you’d particularly notice.

But this guy wasn’t a man anyone could ignore.

He caught me staring and grinned. Instinctively, I smiled back. I turned to Florence as the man swept past our table and up the stone steps flanked with bay trees and into the bar.

“You need to be dating someone like that and take him to the wedding,” Florence said.

“That guy is either married or gay. And if by some miracle he’s neither, then he’s a psychopath. Men are a no-go zone for me. I don’t trust myself. If I’ve been wrong about the man I’ve been sharing a bed with for the last seven years, then I’m no doubt wrong about a lot of other stuff and everything to do with people with penises.”

“Ladies.” A waiter approached our table with an ice bucket and two champagne glasses.

“We didn’t order this,” I said, eyeing the bottle of Dom and wishing we had.

“It’s from the gentleman at the bar,” he replied, nodding toward the window.

Turning, I locked eyes with the dark-haired stranger who had knocked me out of my wallowing for just a few seconds.

“We can’t accept this,” I said as the waiter poured the champagne into glasses. Something about the way my smile had come so easily made me uneasy. If he could coax a smile from me with the mood I was in, he definitely couldn’t be trusted.

“Of course we can,” Florence said, raising her full glass at the stranger.

I rolled my eyes and took a sip, determined not to look at him again. “So, you think I should ignore the invitation or RSVP no?”

“I think you should RSVP with a letter bomb or say nothing at all,” Florence replied.

“It would be nice if I had an exciting reason to say no, other than the obvious,” I said.

“Just don’t reply. Or make up a reason. Say you’re in the Maldives for work.”

“Yeah, no one’s going to believe I flew to the Maldives for work. I’m a recruitment consultant, not a supermodel.” The only travel I’d done since I started two months ago was to our head office in Wiltshire, and I wasn’t sure a day trip to Swindon was going to make anyone jealous.

“I guess. But at least you can talk about your promotion.”

“Again, head of professional services at a recruitment consultancy isn’t going to get anyone’s attention.” My quick promotion had been welcome, but it hadn’t filled my heart or satisfied my soul. It had paid the mortgage.

“Have you totally given up on the interior design thing?”

Florence’s question should have had an easy answer. When Matt had moved out, I’d been building up my business, but I wasn’t making any money and I had bills to pay, so I’d had to be sensible and take the first job that came along. I still wasn’t convinced it had been the right thing to do, but I’d clung to the flat we’d shared, insisting I stay in it, so he’d signed it over to me—mortgage and all. At the back of my mind, I’d thought he’d come back—come home to me. “Recruitment provides a steady income I need to pay the mortgage.”

“I can’t believe you gave up your business and moved to London for him, then he turned around and did this to you.”

“I didn’t move to London for him.” That made me sound weak, and I might have been cheated on and betrayed, but I refused to become a victim.

“You’d still be in Manchester if he hadn’t had that job opportunity.”

“I know, but we were a couple, a team, and it was his dream job.” My interior design business had been thriving. I’d started getting repeat business, and every job I got led to another. Matt’s job offer had been his dream—and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. “He was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I wanted him to have the job he always wanted.”

Tags: Louise Bay Romance
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