Clara Meets The Parents (Clara Andrews #2) (11 page)

Ducking behind a pillar, my heart begins to pound in time to the music. I take another peek into the booth, just to confirm what I already know. What is going on? He hates Erica! Oliver’s cheeks are red and his shirt is unbuttoned a little too much for my liking. Looking down into his empty glass, he shakes his head as Erica takes his hand and holds it to her chest. A wave of nausea washes over me and I feel physically sick. I actually can’t believe what I am seeing and worse, I can’t hear a word that they are saying. Taking a menu from an adjacent table, I hide my face and slip into the booth opposite.

Straining my ears against the thudding music, I try to listen in to their conversation.

‘...doesn’t understand you like I do...’

‘...never forget you...’

‘...you amaze me...’

‘...what do you see in her...’

‘...not right for me...’

‘...love you...’

I drop the menu on the floor and flee from the bar as bile rises in my throat. How could he do this to me? How long has this been going on? Did he know she would be here? Why did he want me to meet his parents if he was having an affair? A million questions whirl around my mind as I run up the staircase as fast as my legs will carry me. Fumbling in my pocket for the room key, I buzz open the door and run straight into the bathroom as the mountain of room service I consumed earlier makes a break for freedom.

Wiping my mouth, I rest my sweaty forehead on the cold porcelain. I feel like I have been run over. This cannot be happening to me. Pushing myself to my feet, I splash cold water on my face and take a few deep breaths. Have I really just caught Oliver cheating on me? My wonderful, amazing, beautiful Oliver? I need to get out of this room. Tossing my passport, phone and a handful of clothes into my handbag, I take one last look around the hotel room and make my way to lift.

The second I jab the shiny button, the doors ping open. Staring in the mirror as I ride down to the ground floor, I realise that weirdly, I don’t feel upset. There are no tears, I don’t look sad. I just feel empty, ill almost, as though I am getting over some terrible ailment.

Striding through Reception, I march straight outside to the taxi rank, clutching my only bag with everything I have. After asking the driver to take me to the nearest hotel, I slide onto the back seat and look out of the window as we pull away from the hotel. Whizzing through the palm trees, I watch the moonlight bounce off the sea until we come to an abrupt stop outside a huge, terracotta building.

I slip the driver a handful of pesos and heave my bag up onto my shoulder, before begrudgingly making my way inside. The hotel has a naturalistic theme, with earthy tones and wild life imagery on every wall. In any other situation, this would be a very nice place to stay. It seems a whole lot quieter than the hotel I have just fled from, but if it is away from Oliver and his over inflated mistress, it is good enough for me. It all makes sense now, the unexplained crashing of our dinner, Oliver’s overwhelming disliking of her and the whole shopping trip thing.

‘May I help you?’ A tiny lady behind a very big desk offers me a friendly smile.

‘Erm, yes. I need a room please, just for tonight.’ My voice sounds dry and hoarse.

‘No problem. We have a Junior Suite available at a reduced rate?’

Digging out my purse, I look at my credit card dubiously. ‘Actually, a standard room will be just fine. Whichever is the cheapest that you have.’ I push my card across the desk and hope that it doesn’t decline.

She runs my card through the machine and takes my contact details, before handing over a key labelled A21.

‘You are in room A21 which is down the lobby on the left. If you need anything at all, just call down.’

‘Thank you very much.’ Stuffing my purse back into the overcrowded handbag, I wander down the lobby in search of my bed for the night.

Even in my dazed, confused state, it doesn’t take me long to find it. Slipping the glossy key into the card reader, I push open the door. The tiles are warm under my feet as I walk over to the bed and crawl under the sheets, not even bothering to turn on the lights. My whole body aches as though I have been involved in a car accident. What am I doing here? Just two hours ago I was in a roll top bath waiting for my boyfriend to return with a bottle of red.

This whole thing is insane. The dark room taunts me as I squeeze my eyes shut as tight as I can. Erica and Oliver. Erica and my Oliver. Erica was holding Oliver’s hand. His shirt was unbuttoned.

‘...you amaze me...’

‘...never forget you...’

‘...love you...’

My mum always said it’s better to stay up and fight than to sleep on an argument, but what if you have already lost?

Peeling back my sore eyelids, I wince at the incredible pain that is shooting through my temples. From my head to my toes, my entire body feels bruised and raw. That was a horrendous night’s sleep. My tired eyes gradually focus on the strange, beamed ceiling. What the hell? It takes me a moment to register where I am and a minute more for the previous night’s events to come flooding back to me like a terrible nightmare. Oliver. Erica. The bar. Oh, God.

Feeling utterly broken, I wipe a stray tear that has escaped my right eye. How is this my life? How have I gone from flying to Mexico to meet my Texan in-laws, to fleeing the hotel after catching my boyfriend in a compromising position with a Barbie doll? Shaking my head, I run my fingers through my knotted hair before rolling onto my side.

I pull back the floral covers and hold my throbbing head in my hands, trying to collect my thoughts. Bright sunshine fills the room as I try to make sense of what the hell I am doing here. A part of me is expecting Ashton Kutcher to run out with half a dozen cameras and the whole thing to be one big, not very funny joke. It takes all of my energy to drag my over flowing bag up onto the bed. Tipping it upside down, I fish through the random mix of clothing for my mobile. It takes me a few deep breaths before I get the courage to look at the screen. Not knowing what I want to see, I unlock the screen as my pulse races.

Seeing that I have zero missed calls make my heart sink. No pleading voice-mails, no text message begging for forgiveness. Nothing. Is it really over? Not wanting to have a complete meltdown, I shove the offending handset under the sheets and push myself to my feet. The tiled floor is toasty and warm as I pad around the room. It is only a third of the size of the suite Oliver and I had booked, but it is every inch as comfortable. The bed that I have been curled up in all night is actually huge and a lot more inviting than it looked last night. In a weird way, I think I would rather stay here.

Realising that I don’t even know where I am, I wander out to the terrace. Instead of the mesmerising sea view that I am now so used to seeing, I am presented with a rather intriguing jungle scene. A lazy hammock swings back and forth in the gentle breeze, surrounded by an array of beautiful palm trees which wrap around the terraced walls of the hotel. You can almost hear the spider monkeys jumping between the branches, as the strong sun blares down through the leaves, enticing you into the swaying hammock.

I lean over the wall and watch a couple of prehistoric looking iguanas scuttle along the sandy path, stopping only to bask for a moment in the sunshine. That’s exactly what I should be doing right now, sunbathing with my boyfriend, our only care in the world being where our next cocktail is coming from. Thinking of cocktails makes me realise that I am terribly thirsty. Stumbling back inside, I yank open the mini bar and stare at the rum, before reaching for an overpriced bottle of spring water. Drowning my sorrows in alcohol might be tempting, but I don’t fancy dealing with a hangover as well as a break up. Besides, there isn’t any tequila.

Hearing the distinct sound of rolling suitcases outside the door, I am suddenly aware that I may have to check out soon. The thought of going back to the hotel and Oliver is more than I can face right now. I do have my passport with me. Maybe I could just go straight to the airport. A quick glance down at my slept in jersey dress and flip flops tells me maybe not. Besides, I at least need to brush my teeth and get some fresh underwear. I may be heartbroken, but I still have my pride.

I clutch the bottle of water and curl up on the bed, trying to forge a mental plan. Let’s look at the facts here. I am going to have to see him again at some point. I have been practically living with the man for the past six months, all my belongings are at his apartment and his are at mine. What a mess. I suddenly feel rather homesick. I miss my house. I miss my bed. I miss my friends.

Thinking of Marc and Lianna sends me over the edge. A salty tear lands on the pillowcase, followed by another and then another until I am one big ball of sadness. I pull my knees up to my chest and allow myself to cry and once I start, I can’t stop. My whole body is throbbing as I wail into my dress. I just want to go home.

Wiping my eyes, I tie my hair up off my face. I may have been crying for an hour, I may have been crying for five minutes, I really do not know. What I do know, is that there is a knocking at the door, a very loud, authoritative knocking. Fantastic, I must have missed the check out time. Running over to the door, I fumble with the lock. Why won’t it open?

‘Just give me a minute! I’m having a little trouble with the lock.’ Frantically wiggling the handle, I kick the door frame in annoyance.

I really do not need this right now. Why is the universe conspiring against me?  What have I done to deserve this? I pull the handle as hard as I can and let out a frustrated gasp, but it does little to help matters. As I fight with the uncooperative door, the knocking gets louder and louder until it is unbearable.

I put my eye to the peep hole and recoil in horror.

Oh, no.

What the hell is she doing here?

‘Clara! Clara! You better open this goddamn door before I break it down!’ Janie’s irate voice comes through the door before I can plan my escape. ‘Don’t even test me girl ‘cos I’ll do it. You’ve got to the count of three and then I’m coming in there!’

What is going on? How did she even know where to find me and why is she shouting at me?  Looking around for a place to hide, I debate jumping over the terrace, but think better about it when I hear Janie start shouting numbers.

‘One...two...’

‘OK!’ I take a sharp intake of breath and lean against the door. ‘Alright, you win, but I honestly can’t open it. It’s stuck.’

‘For the love of God! Did you not just hear me? I will break this freakin’ door down!’

‘I’m not playing around, Janie! The key isn’t working!’ I yell back, trying my best to unlock the door.

‘Well you better make it work!’

Realising that she isn’t going to give up without a fight, I slide the key under the door before moving towards the bed for safety. ‘You will have to try it from your end.’

There is a lot of banging, cursing and shouting, before I hear a small beep and the door flies open. Trying to stay out of harm’s way, I bite my lip nervously as in strides a very angry, very sweaty Janie.

‘You, young lady have got some serious explaining to do. My son is going out of his mind over there. What do you think you are playing at running off like that?’ Diving into the mini bar, she takes the bottle of rum and drinks it in one gulp.

She can’t be serious? ‘Are you kidding me? I catch your son cheating on me and I’m the one who has got some explaining to do? You really are something, Janie.’ Feeling my blood start to boil, I cross my arms and try not to say something that I will later regret.

‘Do you have any idea how worried... wait a minute, cheating? What the hell are you talking about?’

‘I’m talking about Erica!’ Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and I turn away before she can see.

‘Erica?’ Spinning around, I see that she looks genuinely confused.

Not daring to speak in case I crumble, I resort to a sad nod of the head.

‘What about Erica?’

‘They’re having an affair!’ My voice becomes extremely high pitched. ‘I caught them!’

She stares at me like I have grown three heads and started speaking Mandarin. ‘You better start talking.’ Beckoning me over to the bed, she grabs a handful of vodka minis and passes one to me.

‘It was last night.’ Just recalling it makes my voice start to break. ‘We were having a lovely night in with room service and we ran out of wine. I said we should phone for some, but he insisted on going down to the bar himself.’ I take a shot of vodka and wince at the burn.

‘Go on.’ Janie squints at me and I can’t quite work out her expression.

‘I must have waited for around an hour and when he didn’t come back, I called his mobile.’

‘Mobile? What the hell is a mobile?’

‘Sorry, his cell phone.’

‘Carry on.’ Shaking her head, she checks out her manicure.

‘Well his cell phone started ringing on the dresser, so I went down to the bar to see what was holding him up and to give him the room key in case he was planning on staying down there.’

‘Yeah, yeah get to the point.’ Janie rolls her eyes and throws the empty bottle into the bin.

‘He was in a booth at the back of the bar, with Erica. They were holding hands and he said that he loved her and that I wasn’t right for him.’ Trying not to choke on my tears, I slide off the bed, ending up in a blubbering lump on the floor. ‘He said she’s amazing and that he would never forget her.’ The last bit is barely audible due to the ocean of tears that are rolling down my cheeks.

‘OK then, you’re officially crazy.’ Her eyes widen as she looks down at me.

‘I am not crazy! I know what I saw! I heard him say those things to her!’

‘We gotta get you to a hospital or something because you’ve obviously lost your mind.’ Janie holds out a wrinkly hand to help me to my feet.

‘Janie, I swear! You have to believe me. Why would I make something like this up?’ Wiping my face, I will her to believe me.

We stare at each other in total silence, neither really knowing what to say. Eventually, Janie breaks.

‘Get your things. We’re going to sort this out.’ Marching over to the door, she taps her foot impatiently.

‘There is absolutely no way I am going over there. Didn’t you hear me before? He said he was in love with her! I can’t compete with Erica!’

Janie takes a couple of steps towards me and cups my face in her hands. ‘Clara, I am only gonna say this once, so listen to me and listen good. I don’t know what is going on here, but I am gonna sort it out. I can’t ever remember seeing him as happy as he has been this past week. You are the best thing that has happened to Oliver in a really long time and I am sure as hell not gonna let him mess it up.’

I honestly don’t know what to say. A lump forms in the back of my throat and a feel a strange mixture of emotions. ‘I thought you hated me?’

She offers me a thin smile and I really feel like we have finally connected.

‘Honey, I do hate you. Now let’s go.’