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The Summer Flings Travel Club Page 8
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But honesty always went down better with Elle. ‘We agreed to have some fun while we were here, like a fling. He said that’s all he wants too.’
Her nose wrinkled again, but then she laughed. ‘Good, but make sure you don’t share any of the gory details.’
‘But the details are the best parts,’ Gem protested.
Elle shuddered. ‘It’s bad enough listening to your sexcapades, never mind my cousin’s!’
Gem laughed as she followed Elle into the house, but Ciara’s mind was working overtime. Why had Elle relaxed when she said it was just a fling? But she knew the answer. Elle didn’t want her to hurt her family, quite rightly too. She’d hurt some at uni, those who she thought she could maybe have more than the occasional hook up with and would always get bored of them a little too late to spare their feelings. Ciara definitely didn’t want to do that to Zack.
Zack didn’t appear as they packed away their shopping so she resigned to going to bed alone and hanging up her purchases. After a shower and a quick brush of her teeth, she climbed into bed, wondering if he was even there. They hadn’t exactly been quiet when they got back.
But then her door opened and he snuck in, wearing nothing but his boxers.
‘You tired?’ he asked, then kissed her lightly on the nose.
‘Not anymore,’ she said, winding her arms around his neck. ‘How was your day?’
‘Good. I worked on some drawings and I’m actually happy with them.’
‘Really?’ She pulled back to try and see his face in the darkness. ‘Can I see?’
‘Tomorrow,’ he promised and sealed it with a kiss.
He pulled at the hem of her new, silky nightgown she’d gotten from Bloomingdales. ‘I like this, by the way. I take it you had fun shopping?’
‘I bet I’d have had more with you,’ she said, running her hands down his back.
He managed to get her out of the silk without her having to let him go. ‘I’d put money on it.’
‘Wait,’ she said, pulling the sheet over her breasts. ‘Isn’t this a bit weird with Elle and Gem in the house.’
‘Maybe.’ He laughed a little. ‘You’ll just have to bite your lip tonight.’
By the time they’d finished with each other, she’d almost chewed it right off.
***
The sound of scratching woke her up the next day, and the first thing she noticed was Zack sitting at the dressing table in her room with a sketch pad and pencil. She stretched, feeling the burn in her muscles where she’d bent into some positions she never thought she’d been capable of.
‘Good morning sleepy head,’ he said.
Ciara rolled her eyes. ‘I wonder what could possibly have gotten me so exhausted.’
‘The hazards of bedding a stud?’ he suggested.
She tossed a pillow at him, but he batted it away with a smile and put the sketch pad down. ‘You’re crabby this morning.’
Maybe, but it hadn’t hit her until now that this would be the last morning she’d get to spend with him.
‘Can I see now?’ she asked, needing a distraction from the depressing thought.
He closed over the pad he’d been working on. ‘This isn’t finished yet, but you can look at these.’ He brought a bigger notepad over to the bed and sat on the pillows next to her.
She noticed he’d been showered and dressed and realised she was probably smelling like a sweaty, sex filled night. Zack didn’t seem to mind. He tugged her up so she was cradled against his shoulder, then opened the book.
‘Wow.’ The first design was a block of flats with a twist. Maisonette in style, but with a more modern, new build feel. He’d sketched a river next to it and the gardens looked like something out of a new age fairy tale.
‘I was thinking of doing a development like this at some point. Do you really like it?’ he asked.
‘I love it. You’re so good at this.’ She flipped through the pages, all of them getting better and better until she came to one she had to stop at.
This house was huge, as big as an old Victorian mansion but wasn’t flashy with it. The sides were completely glass with floating staircases inside at either end. It was very chic, a little space agey but definitely stunning. ‘This is like something you see on those dream home shows.’
‘It’s my dream home. I’m going to build it someday, hopefully,’ he said, sounding more wistful than excited.
‘You should!’ She grinned at him. ‘It’s brilliant, really. Stunning.’
‘So a bit like you, then?’
She laughed at his cheesiness, but then her mood plummeted again.
Zack seemed to feel the same. ‘I wish you were staying longer.’
‘Me too.’ She sighed and snuggled closer against him.
‘We’ll just have to make the most of today,’ he said, finger combing her hair back from her face.
‘You know, the buildings in Paris would be good inspiration.’ The words were out before she could think about it. ‘I… er… sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.’
His eyes were abruptly sad. ‘I have to go to London tomorrow, Ciara.’
‘Of course, you have responsibilities. I’m sorry,’ she mumbled again.
‘Don’t be,’ he said, shifting over so he was facing her. ‘No regrets, okay?’
She nodded, since she didn’t want to lie and he pulled her into his arms. She hugged him close, knowing she was going to have lots of regrets when she left Miami – the biggest being that she didn’t take after her loving, dependable father instead. Then maybe she’d get to keep hold of Zack a little bit longer.
Paris
Chapter Eight
Paris really was the city of romance and Ciara was reminded of it every stinking second.
‘You’re messing with our karma, Cia,’ Elle said, but despite the words her friend didn’t look annoyed with her. Her eyes were almost as sad as Ciara felt.
‘I’m sorry. No more moping, I promise.’ She sipped at the red wine they’d ordered in a small bar not far from the designer shops both Gem and Elle had dragged her around.
Beneath the table were all her friends’ bags with so many new clothes that they were going to have to pay another excess weight fee at the airport when they left for their next stop.
‘You know the best way to get over a guy is to get under another,’ Gem pointed out. ‘We’re going to the club tonight. Maybe we’ll meet a trio of gorgeous Frenchmen.’
Ciara forced a smile, feigning excitement. Elle’s sharp look told her it was a wasted effort. After a few tears had appeared when they got to Miami International, her friends hadn’t taken her gaze off her since. Pretending to sleep for the whole flight just to get the attention off her hadn’t worked. It just made them more determined to cheer her up.
‘I don’t think that’s what she needs, Gem.’ Elle reached into her purse and pulled out a couple of notes, then left them on the table. ‘But I have an idea.’
‘Oh hell, what now?’ Her mind was too busy churning through the possibilities that she didn’t even moan at Elle for paying the bill.
‘Where are we going?’ Gem asked when Elle picked up her bags.
‘You’ll see. I didn’t waste all that effort getting us into Le Baron for Ciara to wear a face like that all night.’
‘Thanks Elle,’ she murmured dryly. Then something clicked. ‘Wait, isn’t that the private club the Russian mafia lords drink in?’
She’d googled the night life in Paris before her shopping trip in Miami to try and figure out what to buy with her vouchers, and La Baron was one of the clubs she remembered, just not for the right reasons.
Elle laughed. ‘It used to be, but it’s under new management now. Relax.’
‘So why did it take so much effort to get in?’ she asked as they started off down the street.
‘Because it’s private. And exclusive. I want to go. Obviously.’
There really was no stopping her friend when the chin tilt appeared so she sighed and g
ave in for the moment. It didn’t take Elle long until they got to their destination and Ciara couldn’t stop her chin from dropping. Two windows showcasing sleek, black dresses would have been enough to stop her in her tracks, but above that and the door a black metal balcony with gold letters stunned her.
Elle was taking them to Givenchy, knowing how much Ciara loved the black dress she borrowed from Elle for a spring dance a few years before. But this was just cruel. Taking her to a shop that she couldn’t even afford a scarf in.
‘Come on,’ Elle said, pulling her toward the door.
‘I can’t go in there.’ Ciara tried to wrestle her arm back.
‘You’re going alright. Gem, get her other arm!’
They had such a tight hold on her that struggling wasn’t just humiliating in front of all the passers by, but totally pointless. Strong-arming her into the shop can’t have been easy with her wriggling and the bags they were already carrying, but they did a better job than she could have.
‘I hate you for this! Both of you!’ she hissed, closing her eyes to make it hurt less. If she saw any of the dresses, the accessories, she’d be saying ‘bye, bye’ to the rest of her money.
‘You’re going to love me soon,’ Elle said, not even out of bloody breath!
‘What, when I’m penniless and on the next flight to Dublin? I doubt it.’
A woman’s voice asked in French if they needed assistance, but her lessons from high school failed her as she couldn’t remember how to say ‘yes, call the feckin’ guards.’
Elle answered in fluent French, making Ciara hate her even more. Then she was being dragged again and in a bid to end this madness, she planted her feet and refused to budge.
She should have known that wouldn’t stop Elle.
‘Drop the bags. We’ll pick this cry baby up and carry her to the changing rooms,’ Elle said to Gem.
As her feet left the ground she did the most stupid thing ever and opened her eyes.
They were in a rectangular room, all grays and white but that wasn’t what drew her attention. It was the minimalistic clothes hung on rails in the indentation from the walls. Dark, plain, simple and oh so pretty.
Little black jackets hung next to the matching white blouses and leather skinny jeans. The next alcove had sleek, knee length skirts and a blouse with a daring strip of red below the bust. But the loveliest, most elegant black dress draped over a mannequin with so much effortless grace stole all her attention. Her anger evaporated and she sagged against Elle, needing the support.
‘Think we’ve found a winner,’ Gem said, lowering her friend back to the floor.
Such a bittersweet feeling, seeing something she wanted so much and knowing she could never ever have it for real. She’d been having that feeling a lot lately.
Elle started up again with the French, so fast she didn’t understand and then they both dragged her away from the dress. The swell of disappointment made her too weak to fight back, and she stared at the prettiest thing in the world until it was out of sight, just to make sure it was ingrained in her memory.
Gem shoved her into the dressing room and she sagged onto the sofa, feeling even more miserable than she had an hour ago.
‘You’re going to make me strip you too, aren’t you?’ Gem said, then without much of a pause got to work on doing just that. ‘Just so you know, this isn’t gay in the slightest.’
Ciara didn’t care what it was as she let her so called friend strip her top off then her jeans.
‘This has to go too, sorry.’ Gem unclipped her bra and pulled it off her arms. ‘You do have a nice pair, but not nice enough to turn me off the dicks for good.’
She knew Gem was trying to make her laugh, but her eyes watered instead. God, it was like she was grieving. For Zack first and now for the prettiest dress in the world.
The curtain parted to show Elle with a hand full of hangers. ‘Shit, Gem. I didn’t tell you to molest her.’
‘I didn’t, I just got her ready. Do you have it?’ Gem asked.
Ciara couldn’t care less what they were talking about. She knew it would only mean more torture. At least there weren’t mirrors here. She could look at the panel without seeing her despair or catching a glimpse of them.
‘This is ridiculous, Ciara. You should be excited, not acting like someone died,’ Elle said. She thrust something at Gem, then pulled Ciara onto her feet. ‘Don’t make me slap you. I will.’
Like she cared either way.
‘This is totally unnecessary,’ Elle huffed, but then turned her around. ‘Hold up your arms.’
They weren’t going to leave her alone until they’d had her way, then she could go back to the massive house and lock herself in her room until they were ready to leave this horrible city.
Ciara lifted her arms and closed her eyes. Satin fabric fell down over her body effortlessly, with nothing but a thick strap over one of her shoulders. She wouldn’t open her eyes and look, this was bad enough. The soft dress skimmed her curves, all the way down to her knees making her tingle and yearn.
She was turned around again and pushed forward a few steps.
‘This is the one,’ Elle said.
‘I’ll say. Wow, Ciara. You look like a model,’ Gem gushed.
Ciara didn’t dare look. She couldn’t trust herself to hold it together if she got a flash of reflection. Her imagination was already running riot.
‘You know, I’m trying to do something nice for you and here you are, being an ungrateful bitch.’
Ciara did lose it then, but not in the way she’d feared. As soon as Elle had spoken, anger flared through her, burning away all the hurt and she did open her eyes, but the image of her in the prettiest dress in the world didn’t soothe her.
She whirled on Elle. ‘How is this nice? You know I can’t afford Givenchy but you dragged me in here anyway, torturing me with more things I can’t have! As if leaving Miami wasn’t bad enough, now you want to show me how fucking amazing I look in this dress, knowing I’m going to have to walk out of here without it? You’re the bitch, Elle.’
Elle’s eyes widened and got a little watery. ‘I’d never do that to you, Ciara. The dress is yours and you can walk out of here with it. It’s already paid for.’
Her anger only cranked higher as she returned to the dressing room, pulled the satin off without missing a beat then got dressed in record time. When she got back, Elle and Gem’s worried expressions made her bite her tongue against the angry torrent she wanted to scream at them.
Instead she headed for the exit.
‘Where are you going?’ Gem asked. ‘Cia, don’t do this.’
‘If either of you knew me at all, you’d know how much I hate being a charity case and would never have done this. Some friends you are.’
Gem called out again but Ciara kept walking until she hit the streets, then broke into a light jog as tears welled in her eyes. Her gut wrenched until she had to slow down, the sick feeling lying heavy in her stomach. It was guilt, she knew she’d overreacted but not enough to go back and accept their charity.
Instead she walked aimlessly through the city, not noticing much at all about the beauty of the place she was in. Her mind went back to her eighth birthday, when the headmaster called a meeting with her father and she’d tagged along. He’d thrown out words like genius, and good university and ever since that day her da had worked double shifts, weekends too, just to make sure she could have the best education money could buy. Money they didn’t really have, but that her college friends had in spades.
She knew it was different, but the principal was still the same. She’d barely earned enough in her life to begin paying anyone back. Maybe if she had a plan for the future, she wouldn’t have half of the stupid pride she did. But this was real life and she was who she was.
***
Hours might have passed, Ciara wasn’t really tracking. She’d walked through most of the city and was now at a park with the clichéd couples on benches, tourists with their camer
as enjoying the afternoon sun and kids running around with Viva La France footballs.
She wasn’t tracking the world cup either, but most of the tourists seemed to be and had dressed for the occasion with footie shirts galore. Finding an empty spot shaded by a massive oak tree she sat down and decided it was time to snap out of this funk.
After all, Elle and Gem had only been trying to cheer her up and the guilt had shifted to shame, so much so that each time her phone vibrated she couldn’t bring herself to fish it out of her pocket.
But that was wrong, they’d be worried about her and Elle had been right, she was an ungrateful bitch. One who didn’t deserve her friends. Pulling her phone out, she noticed all the missed calls, texts and voicemails and was about to dial Gem when a text from a number she didn’t recognise flashed on her screen.
1pm. Le Petit Café.
The address followed. Had Elle and Gem bought a new phone to tempt her out of hiding, or worse, gotten a private investigator involved? She squeezed out a giggle, trying to convince herself the latter was ridiculous but she couldn’t say for sure that they hadn’t. Elle was just as prone to overreaction as her, albeit in a different way.
Jumping up, she stuffed her phone back in her pocket and then peeled out of the park, keeping a look out for the nearest taxi. She had an hour, but wanted to get there as early as possible in case her mental friends really had paid someone to find her.
Finding what she was after, she rhymed the address off to the driver as best she could, then spent the journey going over every single way she could apologise. When they hit the side streets, Ciara knew this wasn’t going to be good. Elle was all about the restaurants and cafes on the main strip. A back street one away from all the designer boutiques was a foreign concept to her friends.
But then he pulled out to a main street and stopped in front of the building. It wasn’t too out of the way, which gave her hope that they’d just got a new phone. After paying the driver, she climbed out and scanned the tables outside. Her friends were nowhere to be seen, but she was a little early.