‘Come on, princess, I’ll have to steal you away from your new friend. I’m taking you home to ravish you.’ He gave her a slobbery, drunken kiss on her cheek and Leanna flinched, that look of disgust appearing once again.
* * *
The following morning arrived, and along with it came a fuzzy head and a mouth that tasted like Juliette had been licking the floor of a birdcage. Her mind flashed back to her conversation with Reid and the encounter with Leanna. She thought she’d left adolescent bitchiness at Benson High School. Clearly, she was mistaken. Leanna definitely had it bad for Reid and she pitied her a little. After all, it must be awful to be at the mercy of unrequited love, or was it obsession? The way Leanna behaved was rather too scary and possessive. That, in turn, made her feel bad for Reid.
With Reid now on her mind, Juliette wondered if he was okay and if she should contact him to tell him that she hadn’t been offended by what he’d said as they’d danced, just a little taken aback. She regretted not making that clearer when the incident happened. She should’ve made some jokey comment about him throwing her around; it would have saved a lot of wide-awake hours and whirring thoughts throughout the night.
She groaned and scrambled from the bed with a wobble, showered and dressed before making her way down the stairs to the dining room for breakfast. Her mouth was dry, and she craved fruit juice and coffee,lotsof coffee. There had been so much dancing and the room had been full and incredibly warm, meaning the wine she had drunk must have sucked all the liquid from her brain. Or, at least, that’s how it felt.
Her mobile vibrated and she glanced at the screen. Several text messages were waiting. The first was from Caitlin:
There’s a wee package for you with Morag. Great hangover cure. Or at least that’s the excuse I use. C x
This was followed by a winking emoji and a green-faced emoji. Juliette laughed but the vibration hurt her head, so her amusement was short-lived.
Still feeling worse for wear, she sat down at her usual table and, sure enough, before her was a paper carrier bag with a note from Morag telling her to go back to bed. Inside the bag was a bottle of the famous orange-coloured Scottish pop that the ads say is made from metal beams, and a few pieces of shortbread dusted with sugar that sparkled like glitter in the morning sunlight. Much to Juliette’s surprise, her stomach growled in anticipation, and she took her hoard of treasure back up to her room.
As she munched on the melt-in-the-mouth biscuits and guzzled the orange, fizzing liquid, she read the rest of her text messages. The one from Millie made her grab her phone immediately and hit dial.
‘Ah, so you haven’t forgotten about me then?’
Juliette rolled her eyes. ‘I spoke to you yesterday, Millie! Now spill it! Who is he? Tell me everything!’
There was a giggle across the airwaves. ‘I thought that’d get your attention. Are you sitting down?’ The question she always asked before imparting something exciting.
‘Yes!’ Juliette replied eagerly. ‘Come on!’
‘Okay, keep your hair on! So… I went out drinking with Dex on Friday night. Remember him? He’s your brother.’
‘Funny. Get on with it.’
‘So… we went to the King’s Head Hotel in Cirencester, and there was this big wedding do on in one of the function rooms. I went out to get some fresh air because it wassobloody warm. You remember what summer feels like, don’t you, honey?’ She giggled. Juliette smiled and shook her head but chose not to respond verbally, so Millie continued, ‘Anyway, I was standing out there and this guy: tall, blonde, a bit like a younger version of Paul Bettany, you know? Just my type. Well, he came out too, and we started chatting. He’s a financial director for a company in London and it was his brother’s wedding. He lives in London. InNottingHill, no less! Anyway, when it was time for his speech and he had to go, he asked if he could have my number and I gave it to him, never expecting anything to happen. But then he called me yesterday and we went out last night!’ Millie’s words came out in a rush and the pitch of her voice belied her excitement.
‘And how was it? Where did you go? Is he nice?’
Millie gave a dreamy sigh. ‘He’s sooo nice. Really sweet. Brought me a huge bouquet of flowers to the restaurant. We went to Alessandro’s. It was so yummy and so was he.’
Juliette was carried along by her best friend’s ebullience. ‘You haven’t told me his name! How old is he? How tall? What car does he drive?’
‘His name is Harry Rose and he was born the year afterPrinceHarry. He’s thirty-five, so no real age gap. I would say he’s around six four. Really tall. Very handsome, but not in the obvious way. And he drives a very nice butnotbrand-new Range Rover. That surprised me, but he really seems quite grounded. He rents an apartment in Notting Hill and told me all about the area as he grew up there too.’
‘You sound smitten,’ Juliette said.
Millie paused and gasped. ‘I do, don’t I? Oh heck.’
‘Why “Oh heck”?’
‘What if he’s too good to be true, Jules? Men whoappearto be usually are.’
Juliette sighed and wished she could hug her friend. ‘You’re not marrying him, Millie, so stop worrying, just take it slow and see how it goes.’
‘Yeah… I suppose you’re right. I’ve just been on my own for so long, I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be adored and spoiled. And he really does seem to be smitten too.’ She sighed. ‘Watch him turn out to be a lying, unemployed mummy’s boy who rented a car for the day and lives in a caravan.’
Juliette laughed out loud. ‘That’s it, look on the bright side. You daft woman, just enjoy it. And… you know… maybe check his profile online, just to be sure.’
‘Ooh, good plan.’
‘I have news too.’
