Clara Meets The Parents (Clara Andrews #2) (13 page)

Padding back inside, I put my now empty champagne flute down on the dresser. I can hear the rain pounding on the windows, making me want to curl up with a good book and a cup of steaming cocoa. I actually quite like the rain, believe it or not. Hearing faint footsteps outside the room, I quickly make a grab for the do not disturb sign. The last thing I want right now is the bloody maid dusting around me. Pulling open the door, I hang the wooden plaque on the handle and slam the door shut.

‘Clara?’ The voice is muffled, but instantly recognisable. ‘Clara? Is that you?’

All the anger and strength evaporates from my body as Oliver’s voice gets louder and the footsteps become closer. Before I have any time to think, the door swings open, revealing a very bedraggled looking Oliver.

‘Where the hell have you been? I have been so worried about you!’ He wraps his arms around my neck and hugs me that tightly it hurts.

In spite of myself, I let him hold me. Breathing in his familiar, musky smell makes me feel safe, every muscle in body aches for him. I nuzzle my face into his neck as my salty tears soak his shoulder.

‘What’s going on, Clara?’ He holds me at arm’s length and wipes my wet cheeks. ‘Why did you run off like that?’

‘Please don’t keep up this pretence, Oliver. Erica’s already told me everything.’

His face pales and I see him visibly sweat. ‘She has?’

Nodding in response, I cross my arms defensively.

‘Oh, God. OK. Clara, the only reason I didn’t tell you, is that I didn’t want to hurt you. I swear that’s the only reason.’

‘Didn’t want to hurt me? How could I possibly not be hurt by this?’ Anger starts to boil in the pit of my stomach and I feel it rising in my throat like heartburn.

‘It was a long time ago! I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it! Until she rocked up here I had totally forgotten all about her.’ He looks like he actually believes that he hasn’t done anything wrong.

‘I’ve heard all this from Erica. I don’t want to hear it again. Just know that I would never, ever have hurt you like you have hurt me.’ I yell, jabbing him the chest with a shaky, pointed finger.

‘I’m sorry, Clara. I really am sorry, but don’t you think you are over reacting just a little?’

‘Over reacting! How dare you! You brought me out here to meet your parents! I thought you loved me!’ My voice is so loud and squeaky, it’s almost comical.

‘I do love you! How was I to know she would be here? It was purely coincidental. If she would have kept her distance then none of his would be happening.’ He tries to take my hand but I snatch it away.

‘And that makes it OK for you to leave me? Because something prettier, richer and more glamorous has come along? I feel like I don’t even know you anymore!’ I take my suitcase by the handle and make for the door.

‘Wait a minute! Leave you? Why would I leave you? You’re the one who ran off and left me.’ Oliver blocks my exit as his voice bellows around the room.

‘What did you expect would happen? That I would fight for you? You made your decision when you agreed to leave me for Erica.’

I watch as his facial expression changes from anger to confusion. ‘Hold on, what exactly did Erica say to you?’

‘Oh don’t worry. She delighted in telling me absolutely everything. About how you fell in love when she was modelling in Dallas and how fate brought you back together, here in Mexico of all places. She almost made it sound romantic.’

Oliver’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he stares at me intently. ‘Clara, she’s lying. You have to believe me.’

‘I saw you together! You were holding her hand and telling her how amazing she was and how I wasn’t right for you. Do not make this any worse by denying it.’

‘Can you please just sit down, you have got this wrong. Just hear me out. Please, Clara.’

Not having any energy left to carry on arguing, I take a seat on the bed and pray that the maid changed the sheets. Oliver runs his fingers through his hair as he walks around the room.

‘Erica is right about one thing and that’s that we met many years ago when I was a stand in photographer on a lingerie shoot. You remember me telling you about my days as a photographer, don’t you?’

The annoying thing is, I do remember him telling me. ‘Yep.’ I retort without looking at him.

‘Well, she kind of threw herself at me. I was young and she was hot. I was flattered that an older model liked me, what young guy wouldn’t? We slept together once and only once.’

Hearing him say it makes me shudder.

‘I couldn’t shake her off, she became obsessed with me. She would turn up at my house. She would hang around at my supermarket. The woman was crazy. A couple of months ignoring her and eventually she gave up. I haven’t heard a word from her since. That is until you happened to befriend her here. I knew that if I gave her an inch she would start all over again.’

I eye him up suspiciously, half believing him, half not.

‘When she took you shopping, I was outraged. Who does she think she is to intrude on my life like this? I nearly had to get a restraining order on the woman in the past. I certainly didn’t want her bothering you. Last night when I went to get the wine, she was alone in the bar and highly intoxicated. I went over to see if she was OK and she tried to kiss me. She started saying about how she loved me and how you weren’t right for me. The woman is insane.’

He reaches out for my hand and I let him take it.

‘I told her that she needs to get over it, but she started to cry. I held her hand whilst I told her to pull herself together. She amazes me. I think she needs psychological help. I really do think she is insane.’ I look at Oliver’s worried face and I am suddenly filled with doubt. ‘This is exactly what she wanted. You leave now and she’s won.’

My brain feels like it is going to explode. I can’t take all of this in. It is like having a million tabs open on a laptop all at the same time.

‘Well, are you going to let her win?’

‘Clara? Are you OK? You haven’t said anything for quite a while now.’ Oliver tries to plant a kiss on my head but I pull away confused.

My mind is racing as I try to process what he has just said. ‘I need time to think. I can’t be in this room right now.’ I untangle our fingers and take a deep breath. ‘I’m going for a walk to clear my head.’

Oliver doesn’t say a word as I slope into the bathroom and splash my face with cold water. I hold my wrists under the taps for a moment, before slipping out of the room in silence. The door clunks loudly behind me as I make my way to the stairs. Realising that I don’t have any money, I stop off in the bar and charge some water and nibbles to the room. Thankfully, the chirpy waiter couldn’t be more helpful and happily packed up some olives and nuts into a cute paper bag.

Wandering out of the hotel, I am about to head to the beach when I spot a group of girls walking down a secluded path around the side of the building. Curiosity gets the better of me and I decide to follow them on their trail. The grey, wet rain clouds have been burned away and in their place is a bright, hot sun. I strategically keep a few steps behind them to ensure that I don’t get accused of being a stalker. Almost tripping over a hidden stone, I curse my choice of footwear. The rocky path is difficult to manage in nothing more than a pair of rubber flip flops and a slept in jersey dress. I knew I should have packed my hiking boots.

The further along we get, the smoother the path becomes and eventually we come to beautiful, green gardens. The cluster of people in front carries on, but I think I have found the perfect spot for some thinking time. Hundreds of palm trees are dotted around, with picturesque hammocks hanging from almost every one of them. Choosing the one that looks the sturdiest, I crawl into the hammock and look up through the trees. This is probably the most perfect spot in the whole of the resort. There isn’t another person as far as I can see. Just me, my thoughts and my snacks.

Popping a juicy olive into my mouth, I try to piece together the facts. Erica and Oliver already knew each other, that part is mutually agreed. I also accept that they have some brief, romantic history and if I am honest, I can admit that maybe, just maybe I didn’t get the full story from my eavesdropping in the bar. I just really have trouble believing that Erica is some bunny boiling, mad woman with a restraining order. It’s that farfetched, it’s almost comical.

Why didn’t he tell me about her? Why would Erica lie? Why would Oliver bring me all this way just to cheat on me? With so many questions whirring around my mind, I don’t know what to believe. I wish Lianna was here. Sometimes you just need an outsider’s perspective.

Turning onto my side, I try to clear my mind as I rock back and forth. My head is holding far too much information to think clearly and the fact that I didn’t get much sleep isn’t helping the situation one bit. Watching a pelican circling the sky, I feel my eyelids getting heavy. With all this drama, I hadn’t even thought about how tired I am. The sun warms my skin, encouraging me to let go of all my worries. Maybe forty winks wouldn’t be that bad of an idea....

Ouch! Peeling my sticky back off the ropey hammock, I notice how tight my skin feels. Realising that I must have dropped off, I push myself up into a sitting position. The hazy sun is a lot lower in the sky and my lovely olives are now dry and wrinkled. My impromptu nap has left me a little more refreshed, but unfortunately it has done nothing to help me come to a decision on Erica gate.

Rolling out of the gently swinging hammock, I allow myself a quick stretch before taking a sip of the mineral water. Discovering that it is now hideously warm, I decide to make my way back. Padding across the dry grass, I am relieved to spot a back entrance to the hotel just a few feet away. On closer inspection, it is most probably a staff only entrance, but if it saves me the long walk back I am prepared to give it a shot. Tip toeing over the grass, I slowly push open the door and do a quick jog down the hall until I come to a lift. Looking over my shoulder, I am hoping I don’t get told off as I hurriedly jab the button. To my relief, the doors glide open and I hop in like Lara Croft on a mission.

After a worryingly slow ride, I make my escape into the bar. Never one to turn down a cocktail, I decide a quick drink wouldn’t hurt. Propping myself up at the bar, I wince as my smarting skin rubs against the cold seat. Not missing a beat, the waitress bounds over immediately.

‘What can I get you?’

‘Hi, could I get a Kir Royale please?’ Grateful to see a smiling face, I lean on the bar and shove a handful of nuts into my mouth.

‘No problem.’ She offers me a polite smile and gets to work putting together the fizzy concoction. Seconds later, a frosty glass is placed in front of me with a flourish, along with a very pricey receipt.

‘Actually, could I charge this to the room? Would that be OK?’

‘Certainly, can I just take your room number and booking name?’ She takes the slip of paper and pulls a pen from her top pocket.

‘Suite 264 on the second floor. The booking name is Morgan.’ Accepting the drink, I take a sip and pick up the drinks menu. Maybe I’ll have a couple, who knows?

‘Morgan.’ She taps the pen on the bar and screws up her nose. ‘That wouldn’t by any chance be a Mr Oliver Morgan, would it?’

‘Yes.’ I reply slowly.

‘I think this may belong to him. Would it be possible for you to pass it on?’ The waitress passes me a wallet and I flip it open to reveal Oliver’s driving licence.

‘Oh, thank you very much. How did this end up down here?’ I drop his wallet into the paper bag and return to my cocktail.

‘No problem. He left it right there on the bar last night. I was meaning to hand it at Reception, but we have been very busy today.’

Smiling in response, I turn my attention back to the drinks menu when a thought hits me.

‘Erm... you didn’t happen to notice who he was down here with did you?’

‘Yes, he was here with a woman, but she didn’t look happy. She was as we say mucho loco.’ Raising her eyebrows tellingly, she mumbles something in Spanish that I don’t quite catch.

‘Really?’ I twirl my straw around the glass intrigued.

Nodding as she polishes a champagne flute, she leans over the bar. ‘Between you and me, when your friend left she caused that much of a disturbance, that she had to be escorted back to her room by security. Too much tequila maybe?’

Suddenly the penny drops and I feel like I have been slapped with a very big dose of reality. Mucho loco. The waitress’s words ring in my ears like a bad case of tinnitus. Erica really is crazy! Oliver was telling the truth all along! How could I not have believed him? Feeling like a complete fool, I slide down from my seat. I really hope that I am not too late to put this right.

Kicking off my flip flops, I sprint down the lobby high on adrenaline, my bare feet pounding against the floor. My heart is beating hard as beads of sweat make their way down my forehead. Bursting into the hotel room my eyes land instantly on Oliver, who is sat on the edge of the bed in the exact position that I left him in hours earlier. On hearing the door crash open, he immediately stands up and stares at me. Grief is etched across his face, causing his brow to furrow deeply. The moment our eyes meet, a heavy lump forms in my throat.

‘Oliver, I’m so sorry! I have been so stupid!’ Running across the room, I throw myself into his arms knocking him clean off his feet and flat down onto the bed. ‘I shouldn’t have run off like that. I should have believed you...’ Salty tears run down my face as my words trail off into a series of dramatic sobs.

Letting out an emotional sigh, he pushes my masses of hair out of his face before attempting to talk. ‘Wait a minute, why are you sorry? I’m the one that should be sorry. If I would have told you about Erica from the start none of this would have happened.’

Sniffing uncontrollably, I bury my face into his chest. He does have a point, not that I would have brought it up. ‘Maybe you should have told me, but ultimately I should have had faith in you. I should have trusted you implicitly and I didn’t.’

‘Well, perhaps we have both done things we would do differently if we could turn back the clock. I can promise you one thing though and that’s that I would never hurt you. I need you to always remember that. Can you do that for me?’

Not being able to speak without wailing, I resort to an enthusiastic nod before wrapping my legs around him and pulling the sheets up over our heads.

‘I love you, Clara.’ He plants a kiss on the top of my head which sends a happy shiver down my spine.

Letting out a squeak that resembles ‘I love you too’, I wipe my eyes and smile up at him. Suddenly, the past twenty four hours feel like a horrible nightmare, one that I wish I could wipe from both of our memories. As if reading my mind, Oliver speaks up.

‘Here’s an idea, why don’t I go find my parents, you get dressed for dinner and we will forget this whole thing ever happened?’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, my parents love you. They don’t need to know anything about this. Let’s just forget about the whole messed up thing.’ He smiles and rubs my stomach fondly.

‘Erm, there’s just one problem with that, your mum knows.’ I screw up my face, hoping that this doesn’t need to change things.

‘OK... what about my Dad?’ He replies slowly.

‘I don’t think he knows, unless your mum told him. She came to find me this morning and I told her everything that Erica told me. To be fair she didn’t believe a word of it, but you might want to speak to her and put things straight.’

‘I’ll deal with it, leave it with me.’ With a final lingering kiss, he jumps to his feet and makes for the door.

Pausing before walking out into the hall, he looks over his shoulder and flashes me a wink as the door slams shut. I stare at the wall for a long time after he is gone. Did that actually just happen? I pinch myself to make sure and wince at the sting. A wave of euphoria washes over me as I pad into the bathroom and pour an entire bottle of bubble bath into the tub.

Watching the water turn the golden foam into frothy suds, I thank my lucky stars that this horrible situation has managed to straighten itself out. Only this morning I was ready for catching a flight home and giving up on my relationship. It has taken this mess to make me see that Oliver isn’t only my relationship. He is my best friend, my lover and my entire world and I am not going to let anything or anyone jeopardise it ever again.

I now truly know the meaning of, ‘you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone...’

‘Man alive! This is good chicken!’ Randy nods appreciatively as he devours the sticky, glazed poultry. ‘Almost as good as back home. Oliver, you will have to bring Clara over to try the chicken down at Barney’s.’

‘Kind of a long way to go for a chicken dinner!’ Laughing, I dive into my salmon fish cakes and swoon at the taste.

‘Well, there’s more to Texas than chicken.’ Oliver wraps his arm around my shoulder and I feel a rush of happy endorphins.

‘Honey, you gotta come to Texas. There’s a whole lot more of the Morgan family for you to meet. Randy and I are just the tip of the iceberg.’ Janie smiles as she jabs a carrot with her fork.

‘Don’t worry mom, I’ll have her on a flight before you know it.’

Randy taps his glass with a knife. ‘A toast! To Clara, a true English rose. You are welcome in America any time. Our home is your home.’

My cheeks blush furiously as Oliver and Janie clink their glasses together. Blinking back happy tears, I try not to get emotional at the sudden acceptance into the family.

What a turnaround in events. The purpose of this holiday was to impress Oliver’s parents and after a rocky road of unforeseen events, it seems I have done just that. Taking a sip of pink champagne, I put down my fork and place a hand on my now very full stomach. The last fondant potato is calling out to me, but I am determined to save some room for dessert.

‘So, will we be seeing you in England any time soon?’ As the waiter clears away our now empty plates, I turn my attention to Janie.

‘Never say never! You don’t know what’s around the corner.’ Shooting Oliver a devilish smile, she leans back in her chair.

I knew she would come around in the end! I am envisaging us celeb spotting in Primrose Hill, when a steaming chocolate fudge cake is placed down in front of me.

‘Wow! Thank you.’ I eye up Randy’s’ sticky toffee pudding enviously, before pinching a strawberry from Oliver’s Eton Mess.

Tucking into the gooey goodness, I almost choke when I notice a smiling LP waiting to be seated by the door. As he catches my eye he waves politely, seemingly unaware of the chaos caused by his wife. Oh, God! Spotting Erica’s beehive behind him, I try not to draw attention to her. I really hope that she doesn’t cause a scene. Suddenly losing my appetite, I am about to place down my spoon when my jaw hits the floor.

What. The. Hell. I stare open mouthed as they are shown to a table. What has happened to Erica?  From the eyebrows down she is as red as a lobster. Her skin is practically radiating as she slowly shuffles across the restaurant. She shoots a furious look over to our table as her brow creases up in pain. In spite of myself, I keep on staring. I really can’t tear my eyes away. I would laugh, but she genuinely looks in a lot of pain. Come to think of it, she looks just like I did after my torturing in the spa. I look across at Janie and I’m surprised to see her smiling wickedly. Did she have something to do with this? She can’t have! Surely she wouldn’t! Janie flashes me a wink, all but confirming my suspicions.

Watching Erica place a handful of napkins on the seat before daring to sit down, a smile spreads across my face. I don’t even need to say anything to Erica, knowing that she has been subjected to a massage a la Janie is satisfying enough. Going back to my dessert, I scoop up a huge mound of cake and chew away happily. I glance around the table and feel a wave of joyous emotions. The typical fairytale doesn’t get the happy ending until the final page, but something tells me that mine has come early...