Pitch Black: A Romantic Thriller (Blackwood Security Book 1) (13 page)

On Friday, Susie invited me to her family home, or rather mansion, to try on dresses. Hayley came too, with a bag of carrot sticks for company.

When Susie flung open her closet door, I stifled a groan. The rows of dresses might be a socialite’s dream, but I hated trying on clothes. Bradley had been buying mine for so many years he knew instinctively what fitted me, so usually I avoided the horror.

I tried not to grimace as Susie handed me one dress after another and sent me into the bathroom to change. Most of them were pink. We might have been the same size, but her flouncy style wasn’t me at all. I was wondering how to tell her this when Hayley handed me a black number.

Please let this one fit.

It was a black halterneck with a thigh-high split, and I definitely wouldn’t be wearing a bra with it. Or knickers either, if I wasn’t careful, as it came dangerously low over my arse.

“That’s the one,” Hayley shrieked as I emerged into the bedroom.

“Are you sure?” Susie asked. “It’s a designer sample my cousin gave me, but I’ve never been keen on it.”

“Definitely.”

“Yeah, I like it,” I said. It was the lesser of the evils lurking on the rails.

Hayley clapped her hands. “Yay! Now you’ve found a dress, we can relax in the Jacuzzi.”

Hurrah. I wasn’t a fan of sitting around until I went wrinkly.

“Or there’s a pool if you prefer, Ash?” Susie said.

That wouldn’t be so bad. When I first moved to the States, several of my trainers were ex-Navy Seals. They’d taught me to swim like a fish. It was as natural to me as running now, and I missed it.

I borrowed a bikini and goggles so I could swim lengths while the other two shared a bottle of champagne in the spa. By the time we left, I was exhausted and they were pickled.

On Saturday morning, I went for a run while Susie did the horses. I’d swapped with her so I’d be working Sunday instead. She and Hayley were working on the assumption they’d be unconscious after the ball, whereas I was planning to stay sober.

I made use of the woods, using tree branches to do pull-ups and logs to do tricep dips, and got back in time for a shower before we left for Susie’s at three.

I didn’t see how we could possibly need four hours to get ready, but when we got there, all became clear. Susie’s mother took the Hunt Ball very seriously. The beautician, make-up artist and hairdresser waiting for us when we arrived demonstrated the fact.

Normally I couldn’t be bothered with all that shit. I hated people poking and prodding at me. Bradley used to pull stunts like this, but after he got sick of me turning up late and sending the assorted style gurus home, we compromised. If it was an important function he did my hair and make-up, I had a manicure and pedicure once a fortnight so my nails stayed presentable, and some bitch waxed my legs every week when I was home.

I only let him bring in the big guns for special occasions, like meeting the president or another important dignitary. Even for the president, I couldn’t always be bothered to dress up. He’d seen me in sweats in the gym; his view of me wasn’t going to change if I was wearing eyeliner.

As a sadist plucked my eyebrows, I realised how much I missed Bradley. He might drive me nuts, but at least he didn’t try to insist I had a spray tan.

“You could do with some colour,” Susie’s mother said.

Sure, I’d faded a bit, but Hayley had just been dyed a frightening shade of orange and there was no way I was looking like that.

I wondered how the rest of my friends were getting on. Bradley wasn’t the only one I missed. I’d been watching the news for any signs of trouble, but all seemed calm in Virginia. It was just my mind that was in torment. Part of me longed to return, but I knew from the way my chest tightened every time I thought of getting on a plane that I wasn’t ready.

We passed inspection just before seven when the stylists declared us ready.

“You look lovely, darlings,” Susie’s mother gushed.

Her father had arranged for his chauffeur to drive us, and better still, pick us up. At least we wouldn’t be fighting for a cab later.

The ball was being held at a country hotel fifteen miles away. Its drab stone façade was at odds with the raucous guests parading up the steps. As Susie and Hayley mugged for the official photographer, I ducked to the side. 

In a stuffy anteroom, white-jacketed waiters offered round trays of champagne. Well, prosecco more likely, but the guests seemed to prefer quantity over quality. Susie and Hayley skipped the bubbles entirely and started on the hard stuff while I sipped a glass of orange juice—one of us had to stay upright.

 
I studied the partygoers out of habit and spotted a few people I recognised, including Portia and Arabella. What were they doing here?

“Aren’t those two underage?” I asked Hayley, jerking my head in their direction.

“Sixteen and seventeen year olds are allowed in as long as they’re accompanied by an adult family member. They’ve got to wear a pink wristband to show they shouldn’t be served alcohol.”

The bands of shame would be lucky to last five minutes. If I had one, I’d have snipped it off the second I got through the door. This evening was going to be carnage. Someone save me now. The icing on the cake came when I spotted Henry out of the corner of my eye. You know, that disgustingly thick icing you peel off and hide in a napkin?

He swaggered around with his mates, beer in hand. He’d swapped the cravat for a wonky bowtie and a tuxedo. It might have fitted once, but it hadn’t kept up with his expanding waistline. Nice.

With little else to do, I worked my way around the room, chatting. I’d always treated gatherings like this as a challenge to find out as much information as possible while revealing as little as I could myself. I was pretty good at it, but it was always entertaining when I went to a work function where everyone else was playing the same game. This evening was good practice, although I had it easy because this crowd loved to talk about themselves.

At eight o’clock, we were called into the dining room. The three of us were at a table with another girl and four guys.

The new girl was obviously with the short, ginger-haired guy—the way she kept searching for his tonsils with her tongue was a giveaway—and two of the others paired off with Susie and Hayley. That left me one man to talk to, and I quickly realised he was gay. He didn’t mention it, but I’d spent enough time with Bradley to know the signs.

Gay dude was nice enough, but we had nothing in common. He was a banker who spent his weekends fly-fishing. There was only so much I could say about that.

By the end of dessert, boredom had set in. I was tempted to go home, but Susie and Hayley were past three sheets to the wind and well on their way to double figures. The responsible part of me said I should stick around to make sure they got in the right car at the end of the night.

Once the tables were cleared away, the DJ came out and the dancing started. It wasn’t a good idea for me to dance. I always drew attention when I set foot on a dance floor, no matter how much I tried to tone it down, and I wanted to keep a low profile tonight. I was in the shadows by the bar when I felt a presence behind me and hot breath on my neck. It reeked of whiskey. As I turned, Henry ran his hand up my bare back.

“Managed to lose the boyfriend then? How about trying a real man?”

“I assume you mean yourself? It was just that the ‘real man’ part confused me.”

“Yeah.” He reached out and stroked my hair. “Girls always get confused.”

Fuckwit. Too drunk to pick up on the sarcasm?

I tried again. “Not even if you were the last man on earth and there were no more batteries.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be frigid. I won’t disappoint.”

He pressed himself up against me and wrapped his arms around my waist. Fuck, my reflexes had slowed. He’d attempted to kiss me before I got my brain in gear and kneed him in the crown jewels. As he doubled over, clutching his balls, I sidestepped neatly as he threw up. I couldn’t help smiling as he collapsed on the floor, and there was a satisfying rip as the back seam of his trousers split. I melted into the gathering crowd and watched from a distance as two waiters helped the bastard out of the ballroom. He was done for the night.

An hour later, I’d had enough. The only thing worse than arseholes hitting on me was drunken arseholes hitting on me. That count ran into double figures. The DJ clearly had a hearing problem because not only did he have crap taste in music, it could be heard in the next hemisphere, meaning the staff should have been handing out earplugs instead of bar snacks.

Our car wasn’t due until 2 a.m., three and a half miserable hours away. I’d rather be caught in the middle of a battle with the Taliban than spend another three and a half hours there. The gunfight would be easier on my ears too.

Another inebriated guy wobbled past, patting me on the arse as he went. He attempted a smile but the overall effect was of a lunatic who’d just escaped the asylum. I didn’t even attempt to point out that his zipper was undone. I’m sure he’d have taken that entirely the wrong way.

A sigh from the bartender as he handed over another glass of ice water told me he found this as painful as I did. At least now I had something to empty over the head of my next overzealous admirer. I went back to my spot, only to find it occupied by a couple auditioning for their own porn film.

Why had I agreed to this? The old me would have had enough backbone to say I wasn’t going. Now I was stuck in the tenth circle of hell.

Through the disco lights, I spotted the doors that led back to reception. Surely there must be somewhere else I could hang out until it was time to leave? This was a hotel, after all.

It was time for plan B.

Chapter 13

I EXITED THROUGH the double doors and followed the plushly carpeted corridor back towards the hotel reception. A night porter manned the desk, slumped down in his chair and looking as bored as I felt.

“Excuse me?”

He glanced up.

“Is there a bar or lounge somewhere here? Other than the carnage back there, I mean.” I gestured back at the way I came.

“Of course, madam. The Thornton Bar is down that corridor, last door on the right.” He straightened up and pointed at a door on the other side of the room.

My eardrums rejoiced as the music faded, and it wasn’t long before I found myself in an oak-panelled bar. It was straight out of an old oil painting—the sort of room where a bunch of country gents would retire after dinner. They’d smoke cigars and discuss the important things in life, like how many pigeons they’d shot that afternoon. A series of dusty tapestries on the walls spoke of slower paced life, before the days of cars, aeroplanes and the internet.

If only things could be so simple now.

The bartender looked like a relic from the past too. I sat down with my water, relishing the peace and resigning myself to a few hours of waiting.

I was still bored, but at least my head had stopped pounding. The room was almost empty—the only patrons were a couple in the corner having a quiet drink and a man at the bar staring into his glass like it held the answer to life’s troubles. Then the door crashed into the wall, disturbing the peace. All heads swivelled toward the newcomer.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

He lowered the average age of the customers by a decade or two. I guessed he was around thirty, and he’d have been considered handsome if his nose hadn’t been broken one too many times. The guy ordered a round of drinks, and the barman poured them so slowly that watching him would have benefitted from time-lapse photography.

“Have you got a tray?”

The barman shook his head and shrugged. Service with a smile in this place.

I wandered over. “Need a hand?”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. Do you want to order one for yourself?”

I looked back at the bar, where the old man was wiping a cloth backwards and forwards over the same bit of bar, over and over again.

“Perhaps not, eh? I have to leave at two and Mr. Cheerful would still be pouring it.”

The stranger laughed and rolled his eyes. Between us we grabbed the six drinks on the bar plus the glass of water I already had. I followed him towards the lift.