At that, Princess perks up. ‘Maybe we should ask for do-over? I’d personally like to see that again.’
I let out a laugh that sounds like I’ve been run over by a cement truck. A gurgling, gasping grunt. ‘I don’t think so. My legs aren’t working.’ I stagger to my chair and scull a full glass of wine, grimacing when I taste it’s a mix of red and white again.
‘What the hell was that?’ Sabrina appears, like my fairy godmother, full bottle of champagne in her hand. She pops the cork and liquid ejects itself all over me. It all feels rather explicit somehow.
‘I need champagne,’ I say with a shaky laugh. ‘I’m still processing.’
‘You’ll need more than this to cool that blood of yours. Wow, that man can move. You better act fast, because he’s going to have a line of women after him, married or not.’
‘How does he know how to move his body like that?’ My mind goes to exotic dancing, strip clubs. To bad places!
‘Instinctually, I bet. That or a lot of practice in the bedroom.’ She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.
Later my team accept the win in the arena. CJ calls for me to join them, but there’s no way my poor body can move without tumbling over. No, it’s best if I stay well away. Just me and a bottle of bubbles is the much safer option.
20
22 DECEMBER, COPENHAGEN, DENMARK
I wake up with a screaming headache. Oh God. The bottle of bubbles was a bad idea. Talk about plot twist. Probably dehydrated from all that dancing. Doing the robot sure takes it out of a person. I groan as I stretch, regretting the fact we’re arriving in Copenhagen today and I’m going to be running on low battery.
‘Good morning, darling!’ Princess struts into my cabin in a cloud of floral perfume. The scent doesn’t help the banging in my head. ‘I knew you’d sleep in. Talk about burning the candle at both ends!’
‘Ah – what?’
‘You really got the hang of those interesting dance moves last night. Well, you tried, I suppose that’s the main thing.’
I cup my face as a memory forms. Jasper teaching me to do that horrifically sexy caterpillar grinding move. Oh. No. No. No. Damn you to hell and back, expensive champagne! ‘Yes, well, now I’m an accomplished dancer we can all move on.’
‘Morning!’ Sabrina enters the fray. At least I think it’s Sabrina. She’s dressed as a flashing Christmas tree with the addition of green face paint. ‘Don’t even mention it. My manager insisted I be the test subject for the rest of the Christmas trees.’ She rolls her eyes; at least, I get a flash of white eyeball so I presume that’s what she’s doing. ‘And then I get to wash all this off and reapply when you board again this evening.’
‘Wow, for a luxury experience they really went… gaudy with the outfits.’ Princess shakes her head. ‘I thought Aubrey was at risk of self-immolation with all that polyester she’s so fond of, but this takes the prize. Is it safe? How does it light up like that?’
Every minute or so the Christmas lights that wrap around change colour and flash and sparkle. It’s very impressive, if not slightly jarring with her poor green face that’s been decorated with tiny gold stars.
‘Battery operated. There’s some sort of power pack tied up inside. I’ve given up asking questions and at this point if I do ignite, well, it would get me out of work for a while.’
‘Manager still giving you grief?’
Sabrina jiggles. ‘I’m shrugging.’
‘Ah.’
‘So… Aubrey, anything to report? You and Jasper kissed and I don’t even know what to call that carpet-gyrating manoeuvre.’ She holds a hand to her heart. ‘Teach me to dance, Jasper!’
Princess trills. ‘She’s mimicking you there, Aubrey.’
‘I got that. Thanks. Well, as the person responsible for filling my wine glass, this is on you, Sabrina! I’m not a big drinker, and clearly I was well out of my comfort zone last night and used alcohol as a crutch…’
‘Keep telling yourself that!’ Sabrina guffaws. ‘The man is obsessed with you, even after he saw you dance.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘The robot. Really?’
I frown. ‘It’s a classic.’
‘Yeah, you mentioned that. A number of times. Anyway, I’m here as requested. Your personalised wake-up call. Get cracking as your chariot awaits and you, my dear, have plans with the man of the hour.’
