Beautiful Beast (Gypsy Heroes #3)(36)

Fuck it.

I’m not f*cking giving her up to him. Not even for one day. Fuck the safe way. Change of plan, *. She’s mine. She was mine from the moment I laid eyes on her.

SNOW

I close the door and the house is as silent as tomb. I take my little suitcase into my bedroom. The flowers I bought on Wednesday are dead. I put the suitcase on the bed and go back out to the living room. I sit on the sofa and put my mobile phone beside me and wait.

When the phone rings I jump. I take a deep breath and wait for the third ring before I pick it up.

‘Hello.’ He sounds like he is drunk or high. I’ve seen him take cocaine from the dining room table before. He’s even offered it to me, but I didn’t want to and he said, ‘You’re right. Maybe you shouldn’t. Your head’s f*cked enough as it is.’

‘Hello,’ I say. My voice is beautifully normal. It appears I am just as capable of deceit as Lenny is. Still, Lenny never promised me fidelity. That was never in the cards.

‘How are you, luv?’

For some reason that endearment grates on my nerves. I’m not his luv and I never will be. ‘I’m fine,’ I reply.

‘Good. I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Don’t forget I’m taking my girl out to a fancy restaurant tomorrow night.’

I feel a stab in my chest. I’m not his girl. He’s been with two prostitutes. Not that I care or ever cared. I just don’t want to sleep with him anymore. I don’t want to go out with him. I don’t want him to touch me. Ever again. I hear myself say, ‘OK.’

‘Right, I’ll call you when I touch down. Goodnight, Snow.’

‘Goodnight, Lenny.’

I kill the call and lay the phone down on the table. Tomorrow night looms on the horizon. What on earth am I going to do? Oh God! I cover my face with my hands. What a mess.

My phone rings again making me jump. I pick it up and look at the screen.

Number withheld.

My heart starts beating fast in my chest. I accept the call.

‘Hello,’ I say cautiously.

‘Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?’

My heart soars with joy. He called. He called. It isn’t over. Then reality hits. My heart sinks like a heavy stone inside my body. ‘I can’t go. I’ve already agreed to meet Lenny for dinner.’

‘Yeah? Well, poor old Lenny won’t be able to make it for dinner with you tomorrow. He will be otherwise tied up.’

I feel a wild rush of joy flash through every cell and nerve in my body. It comes out as a mad giggle even as I wonder what exactly he means by tied up. More prostitutes? More business deals that Lenny simply can’t say no to?

‘Snow,’ he calls softly.

‘Yes,’ I whisper, gripping the phone hard.

For a few seconds he is quiet. ‘Wear something pretty tomorrow.’

‘I will,’ I say, and I am smiling from ear to ear.

‘Goodnight, Snow.’

‘Goodnight, Shane.’

Oh my God. We’re having dinner tomorrow.

I place the phone on the table and, jumping up to my feet, do a totally mad dance around the coffee table.

‘Yes. Yes. Yes.’

It seemed as if he couldn’t wait for me to get out of his car so I thought he didn’t want me anymore. But he does want me.

I stop suddenly. And what of the next day? What will I tell Lenny when he wants to have dinner with me on Tuesday? Or Wednesday? How long can Shane keep him busy? How will I escape from Lenny?



Monday passes with interminable slowness. Lenny gets into Heathrow at nearly midday and calls me from the back of his car. He sounds upbeat, but ends the phone call by saying that something has come up and he won’t be able to make dinner today.

‘That’s OK,’ I say quickly. ‘I need an early night anyway.’

‘Why?’ he asks immediately, his voice suddenly different.

But I am a better liar than I could ever have imagined. ‘I didn’t sleep very well last night.’

‘Nightmares?’ he asks quietly.

And instantly I feel like a bitch. What I am doing is so wrong. I am cheating on someone who has only ever been good to me. I have to do something about my situation, and fast. I close my eyes and, taking a deep breath, I lie. ‘No, not nightmares. I think I ate something that didn’t agree with me. I kept going to the toilet.’

‘Ah well, in that case it’s for the best that we are not doing dinner today. Rain check for tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow,’ I repeat softly, guiltily.





Nineteen


SNOW

More than an hour before Shane is due to pick me up I start panicking. I don’t know why I am more nervous today than I was even when he was taking me away to France. Then I had no expectations. Now my feelings are involved. I really, really like Shane.


I practically pull nearly all my clothes out of my wardrobe, and still feel that nothing I have is suitable for tonight. Everything is either too short, too long, too tight or just too meh. I want to look perfect for Shane.

A bath, I think. A bath always calms me right down. I chuck a soap bomb into the water and wait for it to fizzle out before I pour a good one fifth of a bottle of oil into it. I lie in it and take deep calming breaths, but even that doesn’t relax me. The turmoil is inside my tummy.