“That’s fine. I’m going to catch up with Lance. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“But,” Celia mumbles, “the limo.” She raises her eyebrows, warning me it would be reported back to Brad if I don’t use it. A reminder of the situation I’ve landed myself in. One out of my control, even if I pretend it isn’t.
I sigh, defeated.
“Lance, I’m staying at the Hotel Carlo, Room 1061. I need to take this car back there. Will you meet me there? It’s a long story, and I’ll explain later.”
He nods, confused, but doesn’t question my request.
The beautiful man I used to call mine pushes the pram out of the bookstore and onto the street. My heart sinks.
“Are you quite done staring at the closed door?” Celia barks. “Who the fuck was that?”
“He’s just a friend,” I say, the words trailing away with my heartache.
“Friend…” She snorts. “You could cut the sexual tension with a knife. Tell me you’ve been there. I bet he’s hung like a horse.”
I smile wickedly; she gawps.
“He’s a beautiful man,” I whisper, a soft smile touching my lips.
Stories of our time making love together filter through my brain, and my body responds as if he’s there touching me. A strong, stunning man who can bend a woman to his will but be so gentle in the process, that’s my experience with Major Lance McDonald.
I wonder who the baby belongs to. My brain tells me not to be so naïve; the baby is his, of course. But part of me doesn’t want to believe he moved on so drastically without me. My heart shatters again as I imagine all the scenarios he could be living with a happy family. Jealousy is a curse, a hatred from within for what you can’t have.
When I arrive back at my hotel, there’s no sign of him, so I head up to my room. We didn’t even swap numbers. If he changes his mind, I have no way of contacting him.
Right now, talking to Lance feels like the most important thing in the world. Maybe I need closure, never having fully gotten over him. Perhaps he’s the reason I’m holding myself back from Brad or finding fault where there is none. Lance is my Achilles heel to happiness; now is my time to finally put the obsession to bed.
I apply another coat of lip gloss, brush my hair, and spray more perfume on my throat.He’s not interested in you, Katie. Stop being a silly old woman. This is merely a catch up with a friend.
The strange coincidence of being in the same place at the same time plays on my mind. The logical part of my brain is telling me that there’s no way this is a coincidence, and he must have deliberately come to see me. But why would he? Just when I think he’s not going to come at all, my room phone rings.
“Ms. Clark?” the woman says in an aristocratic English accent.
“Yes.”
“I’ve a gentleman here to see you, Major McDonald. He asked me to phone ahead to ensure it was suitable for him to come up.”
“Yes, please send him up. And can we get a bottle of white wine delivered too?”
“Of course, Ms. Clark. I’ll organize that now for you.”
My lips part wide. I laugh. And the fear he wouldn’t come evaporates.
He came to see me, and he’s still the sweet, conscientious Lance I knew. He gave me a chance to pull out of the meeting, not forcing his presence on me. I giggle like a schoolgirl as I wait for his knock at the door. Pathetic.
My eyes glance guiltily to my phone, still switched off, lying on the bedside table. Brad will be expecting my call, but I can’t think about him now. My mind is full of Lance and what I’m going to find out about our time apart.
Chapter thirty-three
Lance
As the elevator pings announcing our arrival at the correct level, the attendant bows a little. “Have a lovely evening, sir.”
I tell him the same and push David’s pram into the plush hallway. He’s sleeping soundly; hopefully, he will stay that way for a while. At least until I catch up with Katie properly.
The solid door with the brass room number looks uninviting. For the first time, I consider this could be a bad decision coming here. What do I look like, driving from Aviemore to Edinburgh with my newly adopted son to reconnect with a woman almost twenty years older than me, who I had a relationship with over a year ago? When I say that to myself, even I think I’m a fruit loop. But I’ve come too far now. Katie knows I’m here. She’s waiting for my knock on the door.