How to Kill Men and Get Away With It(38)

29


KITTY’S APARTMENT, CHELSEA

I plan to spend the rest of the night moping about Charlie and how stupid I was to think a man could actually like me for me, rather than what I can do for him, in front of the TV. But I’ve barely picked out a true-crime series that looks vaguely interesting – women who kill for money – when my phone starts vibrating.

It’s Charlie.

I mean to ignore it – I want to ignore it – but either curiosity or that tiny flame of hope I’ve stupidly left unattended in my heart wins over and I answer. Well, I accept the call.

I wait for him to speak first.

‘Kitty? Kitty, are you there? Hello?’

‘Yes. I’m here. Hello. What do you want? My email address so you can send some high-res press shots to me? Or shall I just give you the number of my press officer?’ I don’t like the way my voice sounds, clipped and bitter.

‘Please don’t be like that,’ he says. ‘I’m really sorry. And I’m sorry I’ve upset you. I’ve been an unforgiveable dickhead.’

‘You’re not denying it then?’

‘That I’m a dickhead? No, I clearly am.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘I’m not denying it. I did think that you posting some stuff online would get some good PR for the charity. But it only came to me as I said it, I swear. I wasn’t trying to groom you.’

I can almost hear him cringe at his choice of words.

‘I had a really good time with you. And I’ve been kicking myself all day that I fucked it up. But much more that I’d upset you.’ His voice lowers. He’s almost whispering when he says, ‘I mean it. I’m really sorry.’

He’s Adam-ing me, I know he is. But I can’t help myself. ‘Okay,’ I sigh. ‘Apology accepted.’ Why am I doing this to myself?

‘Thank you.’

‘I get a bit touchy about who I can trust and who I can’t,’ I say. ‘I’ve been burned before.’

‘I get that. I really do. I just opened my mouth before my brain was in gear. Have I ruined any chance of seeing you again? Because I’d like to. No catches. Promise.’

‘You haven’t ruined anything,’ I say. ‘In fact, what are you up to tomorrow night?’

‘Hopefully spending the evening with the most adorable and sexy woman on the planet?’

‘Correct answer. I’ll text you the details later.’

‘Okay. Well, I’ll say goodnight now as I’m just in bed. Long day.’

The image of him in bed lodges itself in my mind.

‘Sleep well,’ I say.

Urgh. What am I doing?





30


I PLANT BELIEVE IT, W1D

As promised, I text Charlie the following morning the details of where and what time to meet me. It’s an event I daftly promised the PR I’d go to because she had just started the job that week and was so ridiculously sweet that by the end of the call, I was promising her basically deliverance of not only myself, but the moon and stars too. Chloe. She’ll go far.

Anyway, it’s the opening of this new vegan restaurant that is totally my ‘thing’, according to the PR, in Soho. I was planning on bailing but I’m looking forward to it now. We’ll get to sample various bits from the menu as well as bottomless vegan cocktails.

He’s there before me and is breathtaking in a black T-shirt and jeans. He’s sat at a table, nibbling the skin around his thumb, like the first night we met. I wonder briefly if chewing your own flesh is considered vegan friendly. His other hand is on the back of his neck, ruffling his hair as he looks around the vast dining area with wide eyes. He’s nervous. How cute.

‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ I startle him as I slip into the chair opposite.

A spark dances in his eyes when he sees me.

‘Hey!’

He stands up, meaning I have to stand up again, and we do a funny little dance where he tries to kiss me on the cheek but I move my head the wrong way so he gets my ear instead. We laugh and I internally marvel at how adorably awkward we both are.

‘Yeah,’ he says, looking around. ‘It’s not what I was expecting at all. Not that I’m sure what I was expecting.’

This place has really gone big on the animal-slash-planet love theme. There are enormous murals with every animal that’s ever existed staring out at you. It’s weird. The bar, in the centre, is shaped like an ark and the tables are set on a blue floor, like we were cast out at sea.

A blonde waitress with huge tits comes over to us with two cocktails on a tray.

‘This is our signature drink,’ she tells us. ‘It’s gin and tonic with a touch of CBD oil. See what you think.’

She plonks the glasses down in front of us and saunters off again.

‘Cannabis cocktail? Are your launches usually this bizarre?’ Charlie asks as he eyes the drink. ‘Did she really say this was drugged?’

‘And what’s with all the religious undertones?’ I nod towards to the ark/bar.

‘Yeah, it’s not subtle, is it?’ He goes to take a sip of his drink but suddenly lets out a pained squawk and buries his head in one of the menus. Which are shaped like giraffes, by the way.