Living the Dream by Lauren Berry

Author:Lauren Berry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.

CHAPTER 26

Hotel Dude

Between the starter and the main course, when the volume crept up to ‘lightly sloshed’, Emma got up and stepped outside, taking her large glass of wine with her and avoiding eye contact with the fair-weather smokers around the table.

She nodded a greeting at the receptionist as she passed, enjoying the sensation of wearing heels. She had been relieved to find an actual dress in her bag, along with some shiny tights and matching shoes. She retrospectively thanked pissed Emma for packing well, despite having been birthday drunk. Her hangover had dissipated and the wine had rid her of its last traces. She felt good.

Around the door, creeping roses created an archway over the carved stone. The security light threw an unappealing glare over her so she moved past the door and out into the garden. She placed her glass on a small white garden table and lit her roll-up, enjoying the head rush.

The moon was bright and the warm orange glow from the hotel threw a tan onto the black grass. The shift in volume was as nice as the change in temperature. The business guffaws sounded distant and separate.

She followed the sound of running water further into the garden. Someone was standing on the ornamental bridge. She could smell a cigar and make out the chubby glow of its tip. His back was turned but moonlight was bouncing off a curly-haired head. She chugged a gulp of wine and spoke, not wanting to make him jump.

‘Hi.’

He turned around and she recognised Mercedes man. He had shiny eyes and long dark lashes. She stepped onto the bridge. He smelled expensive.

‘Good evening,’ he purred, bowing very slightly.

HELLO, she thought, but smiled instead.

The smoke from his cigar seemed to politely avoid touching his plush navy overcoat. He looked about thirty and he had rich people’s skin. He was what Paul would call ‘lintless’.

‘Fancy seeing you here,’ he said in a soft Middle Eastern accent. His voice was chocolatey. She did her best girly laugh.

‘A girl like me, in a place like this.’

‘Of all the gardens in all the world…’ he added.

Jesus.

She wondered if this was the single most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. She wished Clem were witness to it, and thought of Raymond Chandler. Her spine tingled and she tried not to smirk.

‘Do you come here often?’

He nodded over to the lawn where his briefcase was on a white garden chair next to his drink. His voice relaxed. ‘One night only. And you?’

He leaned an elbow on the edge of the bridge. He looked like he should be on a movie poster from the ’40s; he just needed a fancy hat. She took a nervous pull of her cigarette.

‘Same here. Well, kind of a business and pleasure combo. It’s an away day.’

Why am I talking in PowerPoint?

‘Nice place to go for work.’

‘Yeah, I guess, except we had to go and climb trees this morning.’ She decided to keep the barfing story to herself, for now.

‘Is

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