The Plus-One Agreement. Charlotte Phillips
part of “it’s over” did you not understand, Dan?’ she said. ‘Did you not hear any of what I said the other night?’
It took a moment to process what she’d said because he had been so convinced of her acceptance.
‘What I heard was some insane plan to desert your whole life as you know it for some guy you’ve known five minutes,’ he heard himself say. ‘You’re talking about leaving your friends and family, walking out of a job you’ve worked your arse off for, all to follow some celebrity.’
‘It would be a sabbatical from work,’ she said. ‘I’m not burning my bridges there. Not yet. And you make me sound like some crazy stalker. We’re in a relationship. A proper grown-up one, not a five-minute fling.’
He didn’t miss the obvious dig at his own love life, and it made his response more cutting than he intended.
‘On the strength of—what was it?—half a dozen dates?’ he said. ‘I always thought you were one of the most grounded people I know. You’re the last person in the world I’d have expected to be star-struck.’
He knew from the freezing silence on the end of the phone that he’d sunk his foot into his own mouth up to the ankle.
‘How dare you?’ she said, and a light tremble laced her voice, which was pure frost. ‘It was obviously too much to hope that you might actually be pleased for me. Yes, Alistair is in the public eye, but that has nothing to do with why I’ve agreed to go away with him. Has it occurred to you that I might actually like him because he’s interested in me for a change? As opposed to the grandchildren I might bear him or the fact I might be his carer when he’s old and decrepit. Or...’ she added pointedly ‘...the fact that I might boost his profile at some damned work dinner so he can extend his client list a bit further because he never quite feels he’s rich or successful enough.’
She paused.
‘You’re saying no, then?’ he said. ‘To the all-expenses-paid top-notch Mayfair ball?’
He heard her draw in a huge breath and then she let it out in a rude, exasperated noise. He held the phone briefly away from his ear. When he put it back her voice was Arctic.
‘Dan,’ she was saying slowly, as if he had a problem understanding plain English, ‘I’m saying no to the Mayfair ball. I’m through with posing as your professional romantic interest so you can impress your damned client list while you date airhead models for a week at a time.’
Had he really thought this would be easy? It occurred to him that in reality she couldn’t be further from one of his usual conquests, of which currently there were two or three, any of whom would drop everything else at a moment’s notice if he deigned to call them up and suggest getting together.
You didn’t get as far up the legal career ladder as she had by being a ‘yes’ girl. But her easy refusal bothered the hell out of him. He’d expected her to agree to resurrect their agreement without even needing persuasion. Had expected her to thank him, in fact.
The need to win back control rose another notch with her unexpected refusal of his offer, and also her apparent indifference to it. It put his teeth on edge and gnawed at him deep inside.
‘How about helping me out with this one last time, then?’ he pressed, confident that in an evening he could quickly turn the situation around. Reinstate their agreement and then decide what he wanted to do with it. End it, change the terms—whatever happened it would be up to him to decide, not her.
‘Dan, you don’t need my help,’ she said patiently. ‘I’m in the middle of dinner and I haven’t got time to discuss this now. It’s not as if you’re short of dates. Grab your little black book and pick one of your girlies from there. I’m sure any one of them would love to go with you.’
There was a soft click on the end of the phone as she hung up.
That went well. Not.
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