Lucy King - The Party Starts at Midnight

‘You should have mentioned the jet lag,’ said Jake dryly. ‘Then she might have been a little less disapproving.’

‘I doubt it,’ said Leo, wishing that his state of sobriety had been the only misunderstanding of the night.

‘Why, what else happened?’ said Jake, and Leo mentally kicked himself for forgetting that while his brother sometimes came across as being so laid-back he was horizontal, he also had a sky-high IQ and an irritating talent for zooming in on things that one might prefer to be glossed over.

‘There may have been a slight misunderstanding,’ he said, resigning himself to the knowledge that he was going to have to divulge at least something of the events of half an hour ago because Jake could be surprisingly tenacious when the mood took him.

‘What kind of misunderstanding?’

‘Nothing important, and it was cleared up.’

‘Did it involve me?’

‘Why would you think it involved you?’

‘Because when she was telling me you were on your way down she kept giving me the filthiest looks. It made me want to ditch the champagne and break into the bottle of single malt I was planning on giving to you.’

Leo went still. ‘Single malt?’

‘To drown your woes and cheer you up. The present I was talking about to get you through Christmas.’

‘That was the present?’

‘Of course. What else would I have meant?’

What else indeed? Damn. He really had got things wrong. Badly badly wrong.

‘Are you all right?’

Leo snapped back to find his brother watching him closely. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘You’ve gone pale and you’re frowning.’

‘I’m fine.’ Or he would be once he’d come to terms with the realisation that for the first time in years he’d abandoned logic, reason and self-control, and had basically totally lost his mind.

What the hell was wrong with him this evening? he wondered for what felt like the hundredth time. Was it really merely jet lag and the time of year? Or was he coming down with something? Something he’d picked up on his travels maybe?

More to the point, why was Jake looking at him like that?

‘Oh, my God,’ said his brother, his jaw dropping as his expression turned to one of disbelief. ‘You didn’t.’

‘I didn’t what?’

‘Think Abby was the present.’

‘Of course not,’ said Leo with a short laugh that didn’t sound as dismissive as he’d intended.

‘You did.’

‘Don’t be absurd.’

‘I’m not the one being absurd. You did. You really did. And you claim to prefer subtlety.’

As this was a conversation he really didn’t want to be having Leo ran a hand along his jaw, shifted his attention to the party going on in front of them and, in a probably pointless effort at distraction, said, ‘Did I mention how great this place looks? Excellent tree.’

‘Forget the decorations,’ said Jake, sounding astounded, incredulous and appalled. ‘How on earth could you think I’d ever do something like that?’

Leo arched an eyebrow and swung his gaze back to his brother. ‘Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?’

Jake looked as stunned as if he’d thumped him in the stomach. ‘What?’

‘Remember the stripper?’

‘That was twelve years ago,’ said his brother, after a moment. ‘For a mate for his eighteenth birthday, and he’d specifically requested it. Don’t you think I might have matured a bit since then?’ He ran his hands through his hair and then shook his head in disbelief. ‘Jeez,’ he said, blowing out a breath. ‘Thanks for that. I think I might be seriously offended.’

‘I think Abby might have been too.’

There was another stunned silence as Jake stared at him apparently briefly lost for words. ‘You confronted her with it?’

Leo shrugged, keeping the cringing very firmly on the inside. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight. Half asleep, in fact. Disorientated. Like I said, jet lag.’

‘Not an excuse.’

‘I know.’

‘How did she take it?’

‘How do you think?’

Jake, who wasn’t nearly as good as Leo at containing his emotions, winced. ‘Did you apologise?’

‘Yes.’

‘And explain?’

‘I didn’t get the chance. She didn’t stick around.’

Now he thought about it, he hadn’t had a woman flee from him quite so fast since the excruciating afternoon exactly five years ago when Lisa had raced back down the aisle the wrong way, leaving him standing, jilted, at the altar. But he could hardly blame Abby. He’d probably been lucky to get away without a slap to the face.

‘I’m not surprised,’ said Jake.

‘Neither am I.’

There was a moment’s silence during which Jake, presumably struggling to come to terms with what had happened, gave his head a couple more shakes in disbelief. Then he sobered, fixed Leo with a look that spoke volumes and said, ‘So do you think it’s going to be a problem?’

‘Not if I can help it,’ said Leo darkly as a pair of doors swung open and dinner was announced.

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