New Year at the Ritz (A Short Story) Read online

  No more money worries, no more damp flat. Someone who would look after her, who would offer her security, someone she knew, who she could fall back into a routine with.

  It sounded like bliss, and she knew it would be crazy to consider turning him down.

  But… But still, for all of that, she couldn’t make her mouth form the words to accept it.

  ‘What do I have to do to convince you?’ he urged.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said slowly, honestly. ’I just can’t see how I can move back in, how we can just pick it up as if nothing has happened. After a year, you just ride up on your white horse and solve everything?’

  He let out a growl of frustration and signalled the tuxedoed barman for another cocktail.

  She knew she complained about her job, but didn’t everyone? And she wasn’t that miserable. The thought of jacking it in was appealing though. She pressed her fingers down on the table, knowing Christian was waiting for an answer. If she quit her job, she would lose her independence again, and wouldn’t see Zack, wouldn’t get to have morning coffee or lunch with him or whinge when a nightmare customer made her want to bang her head against the wall and offer surrender.

  She would miss that, she really would.

  She would miss him.

  Damn it.

  ‘I know I wasn’t that supportive when your mum died.’ Christian muttered. ‘And I am sorry about that.’

  ‘Not lost her? You can actually say died now?’ she demanded, alluding to their argument, the one right before the accident.

  He at least had the grace to look ashamed. ‘I made some mistakes.’

  ‘You gave me three days and then bought me a four thousand pound handbag to ‘cheer me up’ before telling me to pull myself together.’

  She could still hear the echo of their conversation now, over a year down the line.

  ***

  ‘You’ve lost your Mum,’ Christian said, slinging his briefcase on the white sofa, ‘I do understand that, and I know it’s hard. But I really think that putting on something nice and wearing some make-up,’ he gestured to her bare face and swollen red-rimmed eyes, ‘will make you feel better. Besides, I’ve got that dinner tonight and need you with me. It’ll be expected. In a few days’ time I’ll be losing you for a week to go and help your dad make the necessary arrangements. Come on,’ he said, ignoring her gobsmacked silence, ‘people lose other people all the time. It’s part of life. It happens.’

  She gaped, mouth open, unable to articulate any words.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘I didn’t lose her Christian. We haven’t gone shopping and got momentarily separated. She’s dead. I will never see her again.’ She spoke through clenched teeth, sobs rising up in her throat. ‘Do you understand that? And yes, people die, but she wasn’t supposed to go for years. When your parents get old you know you’re going to have to deal with at some point but not when they’re in their mid-sixties, and die of a massive, sudden heart attack.’

  The argument had gone on for half an hour after that, until, exhausted and wracked with grief, she’d run out of their flat with no shoes or coat on, no handbag or belongings. Christian had pursued her, calling her name, but she’d been in such a state she’d sprinted across the road and into the path of a car. She remembered the impact, the feeling of pressure, the sound of crunching glass, the poor driver’s alarmed face, but she didn’t really remember any pain. That came later, when she woke up in hospital to be told her leg was broken and she’d fractured three ribs on one side. Ribs that, as it turned out, never healed entirely right.

  The recovery period in hospital gave her time apart from Christian. Hours of staring at light green walls, or gazing at mindless TV, reassessing her life. She hadn’t meant to run out in front of the car, it hadn’t been some death wish to join her mum, she’d just been careless and driven by loss. But the accident did give her space and distance. Enough of a breather that when Christian came to pick her up, she told him she wasn’t going home with him, would never go home with him again. He’d let her down too badly and the last few weeks had changed her too much. She wasn’t happy with him, with their life together.

  ***

  ‘I am sorry,’ he repeated, lifting his second cocktail and gesturing for her to do the same, ‘really. Give me another chance. What do you say?’

  ‘I’m sorry too. I know the way I broke up with you, how sudden it was, must have been hard. And what you’ve done today, the letters and hunt, are incredibly romantic. If you have genuinely changed, maybe-’

  The sound of Christian’s ring tone interrupted her answer, and several nearby customers gave him and Frankie dirty looks.

  He glanced at the screen. ‘I need to get this. Apologies, I’ll be back in thirty seconds.’

  She gaped after his departing back. Or he hadn’t changed at all. Taking a sip of her cocktail she rooted around in her bag, finding a brief Ok, Good Luck x text from Kate. She selected another unopened message.

  Hey, weird girl! Just to say Happy New Year, whatever you’re doing tonight. See you in 2015! Z x

  No matter what, Zack always made her smile. Could she say the same about Christian? But did she want, or need, either of them in her life? And if she did, in what role?

  She drained her cocktail, feeling light-headed and a bit drunk, on top of the champagne in the limo earlier. Christian had been gone a lot longer than thirty seconds. What on earth was he doing? Signalling to the waiter to keep their table, she wandered out into the main lounge area, creeping up behind Christian as he sat in a winged chair, in animated conversation on the phone.

  ‘Yes, it worked, she loved it, said it was really romantic. Yes, I’ll send the bank transfer later tonight. I’ll be recommending the service to my friends. Thank you.’

  ‘You didn’t organise this yourself?’ Frankie’s outraged voice made Christian jump and he fumbled his phone, dropping it on the floor.

  Scrambling to pick it up, he turned around. ‘Frankie, what are you doing out here?’

  ‘Finding out that you haven’t changed at all apparently,’ she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘Same old Christian, throwing his money around. Whoever that was, they wrote all the clues, right? Picked everything out?’

  ‘It’s the thought that counts.’

  ‘When you put the effort in yourself, not when you pay someone else to do it for you!’ She could see from the look on his face that he just didn’t get it. And she didn’t think he ever would. ‘Tell me what really happened. Why aren’t you in Bali? It’s not like you to give up a trip like that.’ She stepped right into his space, eyeballing him. ‘You may as well be honest. You’ve blown this anyway.’

  ‘But what about the dress and the earrings? What about dinner? I’ve booked a table.’

  ‘That’s your problem, not mine.’ A tingling feeling ran over her shoulders, like a weight she hadn’t known she’d been bearing had lifted away. ‘I felt bad about ending things the way I did,’ she shared, ‘and I’m sorry if I hurt you and this is some odd the one that got away thing you’re doing, but I’ve changed. And I don’t think you’re ever going to.’

  Christian’s face tightened. ‘You didn’t hurt me that badly, don’t worry. My girlfriend and I broke up last week and I didn’t care to go alone, that’s all.’

  ‘So you had a gap to fill?’

  ‘No! I’m not that bad,’ he softened, ‘I- I got this wrong. I’m sorry.’

  ‘All right then, take care.’ Nodding, she spun on her heel.

  ‘Frankie, wait, where are you going?’

  She looked over her shoulder, ‘I’m going to get the wrap and find somewhere I can get some air. Alone,’ she emphasised. ‘Then I’m going to spend the rest of New Year with my friends.’ Smiling at the thought, ‘I’ll get the rest of the things returned to Harvey Nicks as soon as I can. Take care Christian, and good bye.’

  ‘Stay,’ he exclaimed, talking to her back. ‘Have dinner, relax. It’s on me.’

  �
��No, thanks.’

  He sighed heavily, ‘You won’t owe me anything, it’s an apology. I miscalculated. I’m leaving, don’t worry.’

  She hesitated. Was she really going to turn dinner at The Ritz down out of principle?

  ‘Please.’ He walked past her, ‘I’ll let the waiter or someone know. Stay. Call a friend to join you. Try and have a happy new year, if I haven’t ruined it for you.’

  Softening - he wasn’t all bad - she laid a hand on his arm. ‘Fine, I’ll stay. Thank you.’

  Nodding briskly, he tucked his phone in his pocket and strode away. He didn’t look back.

  She decided to dine alone at a leisurely pace. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, especially now Christian was gone for good. She also needed time to think things through without distraction, or conversation. No advice from Kate, or Davey – she texted him to say she’d join them later - no instinctive reaction about her single status. She ate a sumptuous three course meal that she was convinced ruined her taste buds for all other food, and reflected on the last year, and everything today had shown her.

  Sometimes to go forward, you have to look back, Zack had said.

  By the time she finished eating, the restaurant was nearly deserted. She went back into the Rivoli Bar and pulled out her phone.

  I need to see you. Can you come & find me? F xx

  She attached her location to the message using Googlemaps and sat down to wait.

  Two hours later, she stood shivering on the roof terrace of The Ritz, overlooking Green Park and Westminster. Four large copper lion statues guarded the corners of the roof, and the London Eye was lit up with the night’s festivities. Barges and boats floated on the Thames and music sounded on the air. She couldn’t see the crowds of people down by the river, but she knew they were there.

  ‘You look extraordinary Frankie.’

  ‘Zack!’ she swung around to look at him. ‘You made it. Thanks for coming. And thank you for the compliment. But was there a but in there?’

  ‘Yes. You look extraordinary, but not like you. I kind of prefer the tight jeans and off the shoulder tops with your stiletto boots. Like that time at the pub for Fiona’s leaving do. It was sexy.’

  ‘Really?’ Hope flared, making her nerves jangle.

  ‘Yes.’ He made his way over to her.

  ‘Do you think I’m sexy?’ she demanded, stumbling closer to him.

  ‘Are you drunk?’

  ‘Nooo,’ she may have ruined it by her eyes crossing at that precise moment, ‘all right,’ she held a thumb and finger up and squeezed them together, ‘maybe a little bit.’

  ‘Weird girl,’ he sighed, ‘what have you been doing to yourself? And why are you here?’

  ‘So, I’m here because my ex set up this scavenger hunt thing where I had to follow these clues, and I got my hair and make-up up done at Harvey Nicks and they put this dress on me and then there was a limo ride here.’ She blurted in a rush, and then took a breath. ‘But I did not put on the earrings,’ she said sternly. ‘I had champagne, and cocktails, then a gorgeous red wine over dinner. I think there may have been cocktails after that,’ she shrugged, ‘I can’t quite remember.’

  ‘Sounds romantic, although I’m not quite sure I follow about the earrings. So where is he?’

  ‘It would have been romantic, but he paid someone else to do it all.’

  ‘Ah. Not so romantic after all.’ He drifted nearer, rubbing her arms to keep her warm. ‘So, what happened?’

  ‘We talked, he told me he’d changed, wanted me to go back and live with him. He’s stinking rich.’

  ‘Which would have solved some of your problems,’ he concluded, looking concerned.

  ‘My financial ones, yes. But it wouldn’t have solved the issue of being lonely. You ever been in a relationship where you feel completely alone?’ she spoke carefully, trying hard not to slur her words.

  ‘No. Sounds sad.’

  ‘It is. It was.’ She nodded solemnly, then nodded again to underline the point. Followed by a scowl, ‘But he hasn’t changed really and I was the back-up plan. I deserve better than that.’

  ‘You do.’

  ‘He can offer me the financial security my parents couldn’t when I was growing up,’ she’d figured that one out over dinner, ‘but when Mum died, he couldn’t deal with it.’

  He glanced over her shoulder at Big Ben, wrapping his arms around her to keep her warm. ‘You’re freezing. It’s coming up to midnight.’ As if his words were magic, the clock tower’s bells started tolling. ‘You said no to him.’ Dong.

  Pulling back, rocking on her heels, she looked at him, puzzled. ‘How do you know that?’

  Dong. He shook his head, mumbling something under his breath. ‘Because weird girl, you’re here and he’s not, and you texted me.’

  ‘Oh, that makes sense.’ Dong. ’Now I’m only lonely sometimes, because I’m busy and I have friends and family that make me feel loved. One of those friends is you.’ Dong. ‘You get me,’ she hiccupped, ‘I think.’

  ‘I’d like to think so,’ he said softly, taking his coat off and wrapping it around her shoulders, producing an umbrella from somewhere to shield her from the soft patter of rain that had just started. Dong. ‘And I would also like to think,’ his open, honest face had never looked so appealing, white teeth flashing as he grinned, ‘that one day, when you’re ready, we could be more than friends.’

  Big Ben was still ringing out the countdown to midnight in the background but she blocked it out now. ‘You like me like that?’

  ‘I just drove across London on New Year’s Eve, abandoning my friends and family to see you, and pulled up outside The Ritz in a beaten up Fiat. You should have seen the way the doormen looked at me. So what do you think? Yes, I like you. Have done since day one, when Simon introduced us.’

  She shook her head, ‘I don’t even remember that meeting.’

  ‘I know. You didn’t see me. But maybe you will, one day.’

  ‘And if that happened, what would I need to do, to show you I was ready?’ she breathed.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he shivered, ‘kiss me?’

  ‘Right,’ she answered thoughtfully, as Big Ben finally struck twelve and hundreds, if not thousands, of people lining the Thames yelled out Happy New Year and started singing Auld Lang Syne. Above her head, Zack looked out across the rooftops at the London Eye as enormous white sparkles started rotating on it. ‘Zack?’ she stared up at him.

  ‘Yes?’ he switched his attention back to her.

  Rising up on tiptoes she threw her arms around his neck, plastering her body along his, breasts pushed against his chest. ‘Happy New Year,’ she whispered.

  As the sound of fireworks filled the air with whizzes and bangs and fizzes, she kissed him, mouth hot against his, eyes closed. After a brief hesitation he kissed her back, one arm tightening around her, the other still holding the umbrella. And it was amazing. And she saw. There was chemistry there, there was heat. Sometimes it took time to grow. She saw him, in the way she knew he saw her.

  She saw how thoughtful and respectful and lovely he was to her, and how important that was. Much more important than whether he could put her up in a luxury pad by the Thames and shower her with gifts or not.

  ‘Woah!’ he pulled back, eyes slightly glazed, hair damp from the drizzle that had crept under the umbrella. ‘What was that?’ He seemed oblivious to the sparkling multi- coloured fireworks filling the London skyline, a dazzling array of greens and purples and oranges lighting up the darkness.

  ‘A New Year kiss.’ She said impatiently, rolling her eyes. She thought it was her who was tipsy, not him.

  ‘What did it mean though?’ He looked hopeful and scared at the same time. Some of his question was obscured by the deafening pops of fireworks but she understood him anyway.

  ‘It means I’m ready,’ she said, ‘not ready for anything heavy, or quick. But ready to try.’

  He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, ‘Are you sure? There�
��s no rush.’

  She stared up into his face, studied his freckles, the way his blond hair curled slightly on his collar, the face that got more attractive every time she looked at it. ‘I am sure,’ she nodded.

  It might be the cocktails talking or it might be the closure with Christian, so she could stop wondering if she’d done the right thing. It might even be what was in the air with the dawning of 2015, a hint of promise, a dash of new beginnings, a pinch of hope.

  Or it could just be that of all the people she’d had in her life over the last few months, he made her laugh the most. And that’s what made her certain she was making the right decision.

  ‘Come on,’ she wriggled around so she could snuggle into his side, ‘let’s watch the fireworks. It would be a shame to waste them. The colour-bursts are stunning.’

  ‘You’re stunning,’ he whispered in her ear.

  She shivered, but not from the cold, slid him a sideways look and smiled slowly. ‘Do you know what Zack?’

  ‘What?’ He hugged her closer, his body heat transferring to her.

  ‘I know it might sound weird, seeing as I kind of came here on a date with my ex, but I’m really glad that I celebrated New Year and the start of 2015 at The Ritz.’

  They both ahhhed as a starburst of white showered down towards them, illuminating their grinning faces.

  ‘So am I, weird girl,’ he agreed, squeezing her tight, ‘so am I.’

  Coming Soon from Nikki Moore…

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  Also by Nikki Moore…

  Skating at Somerset House

  Crazy, Undercover, Love

  Nikki Moore

  I've adored writing and reading since forever and have always been a sucker for love stories so I'm delighted to be part of the fabulous HarperImpulse team! I write short stories and fun, touching, sexy contemporary romance and really enjoy creating intriguing characters and telling their stories.

  A finalist in writing competitions since 2010, including Novelicious Undiscovered 2012, I'm a member of the fantastic Romantic Novelists’ Association. I blog about three of my favourite things – Writing, Work and Wine – at www.nikkimooreauthor.wordpress.com and am passionate about supporting other writers as part of a friendly, talented and diverse community, so you'll often see other authors pop in!