Jealous Storm by Jack Stroke (classic literature books TXT) 📗

“Anything I can help with?”

“No. Thanks.”

Vaughan rolled his eyes. “Well, if you ever decide you want to open up and let me help you, you know where I am.”

“Vaughan…” But he was gone. What was Amber supposed to do? He would tell her she was being silly or whatever. Or try and talk sense into her. That was the last thing she needed at that moment.

It was about a quarter past ten when Amber spotted Stavros’ taxi pull up outside the Park Inn. Ellis jumped out. He even moved like a guilty man, head twisting every which way. He didn’t spot Amber.

Ellis knocked at room eleven and waited. When the door opened, he was smiling and laughing immediately. A pair of hands grabbed him and dragged him in. All the blood rushed to Amber’s head. She gave them five minutes before marching up to the door.

No one answered her knock. She knocked again, happy to keep knocking all night if that’s what it took. Finally the door opened.

“Amber…” Ellis said. He had his shirt off already. Up close it was clear he had gotten older. Ellis had always been big and strong. He was still big, but definitely more doughy around the belly. She focused on his face. It was awash with concern.

“What… What are you doing here?”

“Just how stupid are you, Ellis?”

She pushed away past him. “You have only just got back together with Megan, and you’re pulling this crap?”

“Amber… It’s not what it looks like.”

It was surprisingly pleasurable watching him squirm.

“What? Is it your sister again?” She glanced about. The room was empty. “Where is she?”

“My sister?”

The toilet flushed. Showtime. The bathroom door opened. A woman strode out in just mismatched underwear. Except it wasn’t who Amber was expecting. Not at all.

“Amber?” Megan said. “What the hell?”

Amber tried as hard as she could, but no matter how much she willed it, the floor stubbornly refused to swallow her up.

“Amber… I asked you a question.” Megan stood there, her hands on her hips, making no effort to put any clothes back on.

“What are you doing here?” Amber managed eventually.

“What am I doing here? Trying to have a night away from all you crazy people. The question is, what are you doing here?”

Of this, Amber had no answer. She glanced at Ellis. The look of concern gone, replaced by that same expression from all those years ago. Sympathy and compassion and confusion, except it was all a front. Underneath his eyes screamed ‘Gotcha’.

Amber had been had.

“Umm… umm…Sorry. Mistake.” Amber mumbled as she turned tail and bolted from the room.

“You’re crazy, Storm,” she heard Megan yell after her. Amber took off, trying to figure out what had happened and how.

That hadn’t been Megan’s number on Ellis’ phone. So who had the messages been from? It made no sense. Amber ran away from the Park Inn as quickly as she could, but no matter how fast she went, she couldn’t outrun her humiliation.

31

An icy hand held Ben’s heart. He made his way through the crowd, looking for… He had no idea what. Somewhere to compose himself. The cold grip on his insides squeezed tighter. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t speak to Nicole again. No way. Trouble was he couldn’t not speak to her either.

Everything was different. Faces stared straight through him, contorted and ugly. He just needed… What? Somewhere safe. He was a long way from anywhere like that.

Ben climbed the stairs seeking out some sort of solitude. This place was enormous. He’d never thought the owner’s cottage to be big, but compared to this? He’d have to leave a trail of breadcrumbs to stop himself from getting lost if he ever lived here.

Finally, down a long series of corridors, he happened upon a bathroom. Even better, it wasn’t occupied. Ben shut himself in. A short-term solution at best. How had he got himself into such a mess? Why hadn’t he just spoken normally to Nicole? Shake was right. It should have been so simple. Why was he overtaken by the ridiculous performance? He was warned not to try and be James Bond, and what had he done?

So what was he meant to do now? Find Shake and tell him he failed? That this was all for nothing? Ben couldn’t face the long journey home. But what was the alternative? Risk life and limb trying to talk to a woman who clearly would rather stick chopsticks in her eyes?

This wasn’t his fault. They should have given him more training. Or any training at all. Or was he simply not cut out for this? Not cut out for Diamond Logistics? How was that possible? This was all he had ever wanted his entire life, but not like this… different.

Self-pity wasn’t getting Ben anywhere. It was probably good he was so far from home, otherwise he might have run, tail firmly between his legs. He circled the bathroom, mind swirling. The tiles and mirror held no solutions to his woes.

Okay, decision time. The way Ben saw it he had three options:

One - try to speak to Nicole again and at best be tossed out of the party. Not all that appealing and potentially hazardous to his health.

Two - find Shake and admit failure and leave. Except find Shake where? Was there some sort of plan B they could execute?

Three - live out his days in this bathroom. The house was that big, maybe no one would ever notice him.

Three wasn’t really an option, of course. At least it made him smile.

Maybe there was a hybrid somewhere between the first two options. Could he ride the party out? See where he ended up? Shake couldn’t be too mad at him. After all, he had tried. Twice. Done his best. There wasn’t much more they could ask for.

He settled with that. Hide out here in the bathroom until it was time to leave and then tell Shake he’d done what he could. It wasn’t much more of an option,