Disgrace (26 page)

“So what happened?” Lili asks. “Actually, you know, I don’t think I can handle any more details. This night was supposed to cheer me up. Tales of your hot-as-hell guys is not helping,” she teases and fans herself.

“No details then. We talked…after we’d settled things like adults, that is.” I wiggle my brows. “He apologised and said it wouldn’t happen again. I explained that, despite all evidence to the contrary, I am, in fact, a very jealous person, and if he were serious, he needs to be mindful. I honestly didn’t think I was but—”

Sofia scoffs her interruption. “I’d like to say you have nothing to worry about, but as far as Peitra is concerned, she is very ambitious, and she’s had her sight set on Jason for a while.” She takes a slow sip of her Porn Star cocktail, and I meet her serious gaze. My stomach knots, and I feel a little sick. The super sweet drinks swirling on my empty stomach aren’t helping.

“I have to trust him, Sofs. If I don’t, we have nothing.” My voice catches, and she leans across to squeeze my hand as I anxiously tear my napkin to shreds.

“Sam,” Bethany’s voice is full of concern. “I promise you can trust Jason. He’s a good guy, and he is smitten with you. Not that anyone would blame him. Daniel told me just last week, he had never seen Jason act like he does when he is with you, and he has known him a long time.” Her smile is wide and warm.

“Oh, God, I don’t mean anything like that. Jason loves you.” Sofia gushes. I roll my eyes at her sweet but overly simplistic and deeply romantic filter on all things. I let her nonsense slide. She continues, but her tone is more serious. “Peitra on the other hand, well every family has a ‘Peitra’, I suppose.” She air-quotes the name, highlighting my concern here and gives an apologetic shrug. A sombre blanket cloaks our booth. We all reach for our glasses, and I decide to raise a toast.

“Here’s to fucked up family and fabulous friends!” The mood lightens when we all clink glasses. Sofia and Lili disappear to fetch fresh drinks and Bethany slides round to my side.

“I’m glad you came, Bets, but I am a little surprised Daniel let you out on Valentine’s Day.” I nod to her fit-to-burst round tummy.

“Oh, don’t worry, he’ll be here shortly. I pulled the ‘I’m going crazy and I’ll take you with me’ pregnant wife card. I am hoping he’ll chill a little when the baby is born.” She snickers at my incredulous expression. “Yeah, maybe not.” She notices my hand fiddling with the platinum cuff Jason gave me this morning. “Jason?” she queries and I follow her gaze to my wrist.

“Oh, yes,” I self-consciously place my hands flat on the table, and Bethany reaches for my hand. “Valentine gift. I thought because we were out tonight we weren’t
doing
Valentine’s Day but apparently…” My voice drifts.

“He must like you very much, Sam.” She waggles her own wrist, her cuff glinting in the spotlight above our table. “I got mine last Valentine. They have to be specially made.” Her eyes sparkle with the reflection.

“I really like him, too.” My chest aches and I get a surge of nervous knots.

“Hey don’t sound so sad. Surely that’s a good thing?” She covers my hand with hers and grasps it tight. My lips try to smile.

“I feel exposed. I don’t do vulnerable, Bets…not anymore.” I lean forward so I don’t have to shout. The background noise has increased with the number of bodies now filling the room.

“You’re only vulnerable if the person you’re with can’t be trusted. Do you trust Jason?” Bethany questions my reservations.

“I do.” I reply without hesitation.

“That’s a good start.” She laughs lightly, squeezing my hand tightly before releasing it.

“Marriage certainly suits you.” Her smile is impossibly wide and infectious. She happily rubs the swell of her tummy, and I get a warm burst of something intense inside. I had always shied away from the notion that a happily ever after was anything but a myth. But when the evidence is sitting beside me I can’t help but bask in the glow and hope some of that fairy tale might filter my way.

Daniel appears at our booth just as Sofia and Lili return with an ice bucket of champagne for us and a soft drink for Bets. Sofia hands Bets’ drink over.

“There you go, sweetie, double vodka and cranberry…you’re drinking for two remember.” Sofia tries in vain to hide her mischievous grin, and Bets drops her head in her hands as Daniel swipes the drink from Sofia’s grasp.

“Hello, Daniel, I didn’t see you there.” She smiles sweetly. He narrows his eyes. His lips are thin and pinched as he carefully places the now tasted drink in front of his wife.

“Good evening, Sofia,” He almost growls her name before addressing the rest of us more smoothly. “Good evening ladies, are you having a good time?” He perches beside his wife, his long arm draped protectively across her shoulders. She leans against his shoulder as we all chat comfortably. The music has started to get loud and people are starting to emerge from the private booths and join the growing number of dancers on the floor. My feet start to twitch and I have enough alcohol in me to throw some serious shapes. I nod at the girls and point toward the floor. Sofia and Lili grab their bags but Bets yawns and slaps her hand over her mouth as her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Come on, baby, let’s go home.” Daniel lifts her from the seat and sweeps her straight into his arms. Lili rushes over to hug her. “Thank you for coming, Bets. I think we should do this every Valentine.” Bethany grins at a scowling Daniel, and I laugh.

“I’m sort of with Daniel on that one Lili.” I nudge her. “I’m not sure if Jason wasn’t working whether I would be here at all…no offence.”

Lili shrugs and mock swoons. “Yeah, I don’t think I would be either if I was dating Jason.”

My own laugh falters when I catch the deep frown on Daniel’s face and the brief look that passes between him and a confused looking Bethany. A shared silent moment, I am positive had nothing to do with Lili’s proposition and everything to do with my comment.

I suddenly don’t feel like hitting the dance floor, my stomach churns and I turn to race for the ladies. I bolt the door just in time, as every drink I have consumed in the last few hours hits the toilet bowl.

My knees are numb from the hard marble ground, my knuckles ache from clinging to the rim of the toilet like it’s my only anchor to the world which is spinning wildly around me. I didn’t think I had drunk that much. I know I didn’t, but I feel sick in my soul. I hear the door swing several times as women come and go, but after a while, it goes quiet. There is a tentative knock on my cubicle door.

“Sam…are you in there?” Lili knocks again.

“I think I had a bit too much. I don’t usually drink and those cocktails were lethal.” I offer a laugh, but it falls flat. Lili doesn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. I’ll get you some water; you stay here with Sofs.” I hear the door close once more.

“Hey Sam, are you okay? Did something happen? You were fine one minute.” She mutters, “Bets had to leave, but she looked worried are you—” The noise from the club drowns out her concern as the door lets another someone in.

“I thought that was you. Sofia, what are you doing here? Is Paul with you?” I hear Sofia suck in a sharp breath, but my stomach retches so my focus is elsewhere, besides, I don’t recognise the voice. I just concentrate on keeping my hair from either falling into the bowl or draping along the equally disgusting floor. I freeze at the next word.

“Peitra.” Sofia’s voice is pitched with surprise.

I bite back the liquid that is pooling in my mouth and hug my knees to my chest. My whole body is chilled and trembling.

“What are you doing here?”

“Date,” she gushes.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Sofia’s tone drops, and I find I am holding my breath and more.

“Oh, it’s only been a few weeks, and it’s very hush-hush. It’s against company policy, and he’s a bit of a stickler for rules.” She sighs. “Doesn’t stop him fucking me rigid on his desk after hours, mind.” Her high-pitched giggle is enough to induce a fresh bout of vomiting, but I am just dry heaving myself raw. I am empty, fitting really. I grab a fistful of tissue and wipe my lips. I close my eyes and let the pain wash over me, my chest heaves, and I feel like a blade is slicing my heart into slivers, slow and agonising.

“Who Peitra…who are you dating?” Sofia’s tone is sharp but the reply is sing song sweet and unaffected by Sofia open hostility.

“Ah ah…hush-hush for the time being. I’ll introduce you soon enough.” I hear her air kiss and leave. I pull the handle and flush the toilet. Sofia is standing against the sink, her hands are clasped tight and her face is etched with sadness.

“It might not be Jason.” She steps toward me, but I halt her with my hand and a silent shake of my head. I gaze at the mirror and hang my head to my chest because I don’t recognise that shell staring back at me.

I whisper. “But we both know it is.”

“I’m so—”

“Don’t Sofs…please don’t. I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute to get cleaned up, and I’ll be right out.” I flash a bright smile that doesn’t even remotely conceal my devastation. Sofia tries again to comfort me, but I shake my head and pinch my eyes tight. The unstoppable tingles threaten to break. I don’t want to break, not here.

“I don’t believe it. I’m going to check.” She turns and leaves before I can stop her. I glance at my reflection. My face is puffy with blotchy red eyes from the violent heaving. My hair is a straggly mess and looking down, my bare legs are mottled with whatever was on the floor. I dread to think of what it was. I start cleaning myself and make a pretty good effort by the time Sofia has returned with Lili just behind. Sofia doesn’t need to say a single word her face is a reflection but a fraction of my own heartbreak. I take the water Lili is holding and drink it down. I flash a quick smile, which is plastered over gritted teeth. My makeshift mask.

“I don’t know what to say Sam.” She looks nervously between me and Lili. “What are you going to do?”

I twist my bright red lipstick up and carefully apply to my slightly swollen lips. Pressing them together, I turn and straighten myself. My skin-tight black leather vest dress hugs my curves; my cleavage is not to be missed, and I now have my red lipstick armour.

“I’m going to rip his bollocks off.”

I approach the private area and face the booth Sofia had indicated, but I can’t move forward. Even from this distance I can see Peitra is pressed against him, her hand grabbing him beneath the table. His face registers surprise or shock, his brows furrow, but he doesn’t make another move. His eyes meet mine. Now that expression is definitely shock.

“Sam!” Jason calls, pushing Peitra’s hand from his lap. He makes to stand but freezes at my deathly glare and sinister smile. I will my feet to move and stop just before the unhappy couple. My pulse is racing, and my mouth is suddenly dry.

“Sam, this is Peitra, my intern.” Jason attempts to make introductions, I can see by the slow movement in his throat that he is struggling to swallow. Palpable tension lies thick between us.

“Oh, I know who she is, Jason.” I snarl his name. He recoils and takes a moment to recover.

“Right, and Peitra, this is Sam, my girlfriend.” His voice is calm but his face is etched with uncertainty. I raise my brow high but snap to look at Peitra when she speaks.

“The whore,” Peitra offers her hand with a sardonic smile.

“Peitra, fuck!” Jason shouts out, his mortification matching his fury. “You apologise right now!” She withers at his furious glare, visibly shrinking in her seat. I stretch and lean over, my face only inches from hers. Her eyes are wide with panic.

“It’s all right,
sweetheart.
” I glance back at Jason keeping my tone cold and laying a heavy emphasis on my most hated choice of nickname. I turn back to address Peitra pinching her chin between my fingers. We glare at one another.

“But you should know this, little girl…I’m not just
any
whore. I’m the
best.
So when he fucks you, remember that it isn’t your nails he will feel dragging down his back, it isn’t your taste he craves on his tongue,
Peitra
.” I release her chin and pat her cheek with as much condescension as I can place in a palm. “It isn’t your submission that brings him to his knees, and it never will be.” I hold her stunned gaze for a moment longer before Peitra pulls away. Jason tries to grab my arm as I brush lightly past him. I fight to hold the anger, the hurt, any emotion that would reveal my utter devastation inside. I want to run, push and fight my way out, away from them, but I don’t. I float with an eerie air of calm and disquiet.

“This isn’t what it looks like Sam.” My glare at his touch fails to have the desired effect when Jason tightens his grip.

“It never is, Jason.” I spit his name, my voice catches as I try to break free of his hold. “Let me go, or you’ll be wearing your bollocks as earnings for the rest of your life.” My words are filled with vitriol but my eyes glaze all the same. I hate that he has done this. I abhor that it hurts so much, and I hate that I am going to break in front of him and her. I take a stuttered breath, squeezing my eyes tight to stop the tears falling.

“Oh, my God, she’s going to cry!” Peitra cackles out a bitter laugh that is like a sharp slap to my face. I am strangely grateful, because the sadness instantly disintegrates. Jason releases me, his expression a mix of anger at Peitra and—What is that look? Despair, confusion, guilt?—I’m going to go with guilt. I step back, my head high and not a tear in sight.

“Where are you going?” He steps forward as I step away, maintaining the same distance.

“Oh, you know, places to be, people to screw. Time is money and all that.” I retort with a tight, bitter smile.

“Oh, very mature, Sam. You misunderstand what’s going on here, and your first reaction is to go fuck a client,” he growls. I halt my retreat, and he steps forward, towering over me, but I won’t back down.

“At least I’m honest about it.” I snarl.

“Fuck, Sam, jealousy goes both ways. You think I’m not jealous when you work, when you fuck your clients? You think that doesn’t fucking tear me up?” His anger is tempered with a break in his voice that catches me off guard. He doesn’t mean it. He’s deflecting because he was caught with someone’s hand in his cookie jar.