Cloud Ten (Nailed It! Book 1) by Fearne Hill

Author:Fearne Hill [Hill, Fearne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-11-27T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

LYSANDER

Sunday dawned even colder and windier. I woke early after a fitful night, then killed a couple of hours blasting lengths of the pool in the basement of my apartment block, followed by hammering myself in the gym until I sweated blood. And still, last night’s horror filled my head.

The anger had somewhat receded, though, replaced by an ashen cloud of gloominess. I’d bloody liked her; I’d liked her a lot. Even if she’d been a terrible PA, I’d have still liked her. Her skills and the way her presence in the office was the only reason I could set one foot in front of the other in the mornings made the whole situation even more depressing. What was the real Frankie Carter doing today? Maybe sharing brunch with his friends and siblings, chuckling over how he’d fooled me for so long, plotting who to trick next now he’d sharpened his claws on me.

I liked to imagine not. After all, he’d confessed his deception when he hadn’t needed to. Even as I railed at him, part of me acknowledged he was equally unhappy about the situation. I’d believed him when he said he’d liked me, too.

What if yesterday had never happened, and I’d kept my feelings for him under wraps? He could have strung it along for months, years even.

As I sweated it out in the pool, wounded pride and a hefty dose of humiliation grafted onto my hurt and disappointment. Knowing I’d not only flirted but entertained a host of private fantasies about a gay man, felt… God, I couldn’t work out how it felt. Peculiar for sure.

The silence of my soulless penthouse apartment weighed heavily behind me as I leaned against the floor-length windows gazing out over a grey London cityscape. On some days, the magnitude of this view, reaching as far as the city boundaries, where grey turned to green, stopped my breath in my throat. Today, the sleek helical swirl of the Gherkin and the brutalist beauty of the Barbican, surrounded by ugly monoliths my family probably had a hand in constructing, mocked me. Clichéd, maybe, but in the heart of the city, surrounded by millions of people, I’d never felt so alone.

I contemplated phoning my mum, high in the hills of the Carmel Canyon district of San Diego, before I remembered it was the middle of the night. I could have phoned Dom. My younger brother would most certainly be up, but unlikely to be sober and even more unlikely to be alone. I envied him. I’d never experienced his carefree college life, how his entire existence floated happily around girls, boys, school, football, clubs, and bars. I hadn’t made any proper friends yet in the UK. I had old acquaintances from the swimming fraternity, and I’d been out for drinks with one or two, but no one I’d call in a funk and pour out my troubles.

I had a dysfunctional family nearby, though.

A little later in the day, I pulled myself together and invited myself to Daphne’s for supper.

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