The Perfect Girlfriend(45)

When my alarm goes off, I sit up, feeling sick and disorientated.

Even after a shower, I still don’t feel very alert, but I force myself to lift open the lid of my laptop and get to work, updating my plans and double-checking that I haven’t forgotten anything. I don’t want to tempt fate, but there’s no getting away from the fact that some things need preparation, not everything can be spontaneous and organic.

Satisfied I can do no more, I cocoon myself in the spa. I accept an offer of herbal tea, and the warmth of ginger and cinnamon soothes me. After my nail treatments and facial, I sit in the hair salon, trying not to fidget, as my make-up is applied and my hair blow-dried. I ask the stylist to wave it at the ends, the way that Nate likes it.

Pushing the key card into the lock and entering my room, my heart rate quickens in hopeful anticipation when I notice the red message light flashing on the desk phone. I pick it up and press ‘seven’ – as instructed by the automated voice – to retrieve the message, my excitement dipping when it’s not Nate’s voice.

It’s Alex. ‘Hi, just to let you know we’re meeting a bit later than arranged. It will be more like seven o’clock.’

That leaves me with an extra hour to fill.

I dress. Not in my new favourite one but a simple, black shift. It is also above the knee, but loose fitting. It is the kind of dress that can be dressed up or down, sleek or casual. I place a silver, heart-shaped pendant over my head, which rests in the middle of my chest. I slide my feet into a pair of pale mauve, open-backed heels. I stand back and look in the mirror. The stylists did a good job. I shrug my arms into a plain black cardigan, then pick up the phone.

‘Can I have the room number for Nathan Goldsmith, please?’

‘Let me just check the crew list,’ says the male voice. ‘Do you want me to connect you?’

‘No, thanks. Just the room number, please.’

‘Seven eighty-two.’

I replace the receiver and give my reflection a final going over, before I pick up my clutch bag and leave the room.

The door clicks shut behind me as I walk silently along the carpeted corridor. The lift bell chimes as the doors shudder open. I step in and press floor seven. My mouth feels dry as I resist the urge to turn back round.

I stop outside room 782 and listen. I can hear canned laughter on the TV.

Taking a deep breath, I knock.





15


I hear the sound of an object being placed on to a hard surface. The door opens and Nate, wearing jeans and a navy T-shirt, stares.

‘Hi.’

‘Hi. Can I come in for a moment?’

He stands back to make way. ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’

‘Everyone at work knows me as Juliette,’ I say, strolling past. ‘I use my middle name.’

‘Juliette?’ He pauses, as though mulling it over.

I turn the desk chair round to face the room and sit down. The bed feels too familiar, too intimate. I need him to feel secure; to feel one hundred per cent certain that he can trust me now that I’ve proved my feelings for him have evaporated.

‘Alex, the guy I’m working with, just rang to say that they’re meeting a bit later, so I had time to kill. I thought it would be good if we caught up – properly – seeing as we’ve ended up in this situation.’

‘Great idea,’ he says, sinking down on to the bed opposite me. ‘Drink? I have some wine.’

‘OK, thanks.’

I watch as he takes out two miniature bottles of red. I turn round and reach for the tumblers on the tray beside the kettle. I remove the plastic covers and turn them the correct way round. Nate pours. His hand shakes a little as he does so.

‘Cheers!’ we chorus and raise our glasses in unison, as he sits back down opposite me.

I take a sip. My mind goes blank.

‘I didn’t expect to find you in Vegas.’

I laugh. ‘I know. This all feels a bit surreal. What have you been up to?’

‘The usual. Away. Home. Away again.’

I smile. ‘You were right about Reading, by the way. My neighbours are great, we go out a lot. Actually, it was thanks to you that I met my new man, he only lives two doors down. I couldn’t get the Wi-Fi sorted and he offered to help. It’s early days, though—’ I stop. ‘Sorry, I’m gabbling. I’m nervous.’ I take a sip of wine; it tastes bitter.

‘No, not at all. I’m glad you’re happy. It’s good.’

‘Thanks.’ I look down at my watch. ‘I’ll head down to the bar soon. Alex knows this great club for later.’

‘Any other plans whilst you’re here?’

‘Well, seeing as I’ve never been, there’s loads for me to do. Today was a write-off, I was so tired. I understand now what it was like for you. Especially when you came home from a trip and I was there. No wonder you shipped me off to Reading – you probably needed some peace and quiet.’

He shifts uncomfortably on the bed. ‘It wasn’t quite like that.’

I smile. ‘I’m only joking. Anyway, now we’ve caught up, you can buy me a coffee if we ever bump into each other.’

‘Definitely.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘For everything. It was too much too soon. You were right. It just felt so good between us and I lost all reason.’