She replied with Perfect, although she knew she’d be worrying about things all weekend, then switched off her phone, put it back in her bag and gave James a quick smile. ‘Just had to remind Hailey about something.’
They drove in silence for a while, then James started chatting about the dinner and she tried to focus her mind on the rest of the evening. But a voice in her head kept on interrupting, asking questions she didn’t want to answer. What if Matt finds out? Have I ruined my friendship with Fiona? Will she tell Hailey that she saw me with James?
Chapter Eighteen
The hotel was outside Harrogate, a handsome new building designed to look like a stately home, with a gritstone facade and a sweeping driveway planted with an avenue of trees. It was set in landscaped grounds, the lawns dotted with mature trees that must have been there before the place was built. They arrived at a circular drop-off point in front of the entrance, punctuated with a bubbling fountain at the centre. Sara stared about her, bemused by the grandeur of the place.
‘If you’d like to wait here, I’ll go and park up.’ James hopped out and came round to open her door for her. ‘Won’t be two ticks,’ he said, before getting back in the car and driving round the side of the building, where the car park was hidden behind a screen of shrubs, keeping first impressions of the place picture perfect.
Nervously she waited for him in front of the imposing entrance, which featured a gritstone arch with a couple of gargoyles guarding the smoked-glass doors. She felt exposed in her evening dress, and wrapped her arms around her chest, turning her back on the building and anyone inside who might be watching her. Goose bumps prickled her arms, and she shivered in the evening breeze, wishing she’d thought to bring a pashmina or a jacket.
James was humming to himself as he walked towards her a few minutes later. He beamed and offered his arm, which she took gratefully, needing support to navigate the gravel in her high heels. ‘You look stunning, by the way. Did I tell you that?’
A blush crept into her cheeks. She could feel his eyes on her as she concentrated on where she was putting her feet. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ she muttered, unsure what to do with such a compliment.
The inside of the building was just as impressive as the outside, although the decor was more modern and sleek than she was expecting. The walls were a dazzling white, the floor of the foyer polished limestone, a reception desk on the left, two lifts at the rear. To the right was a seating area, with three leather sofas surrounding a pool, water flowing out of the wall and splashing down a series of gritstone steps.
They walked over to reception, and while James found out where the event was being held, Sara picked up a glossy brochure and leafed through it. Her hands were clammy, leaving fingerprints on the cover, but she discovered that the hotel offered spa days and weekends as well as having exclusive entertainment suites, as the literature called them. She put the brochure back in its holder and surreptitiously wiped her hands on her dress, ready for the inevitable handshakes. It was that sort of place, that sort of do, and she’d never felt more out of her comfort zone in her life. The idea that she might have to do this more than once, made her feel queasy.
If I do well tonight, maybe we can call the deal off, she thought. Though if she did do well, perhaps James would want her to do it again. It was hard to know. Her heart was pounding, her stomach griping and her legs felt all shaky. She was on the verge of telling him she couldn’t go through with it. You’re here now, she told herself sternly. Only a couple of hours then you can go home. Or would it be longer? She wished she’d asked.
The lies, that was the problem, and the circle of people she was lying to was growing all the time. Now Fiona was involved, and that in itself felt like juggling with fire.
The irony was, she’d always prided herself on her honesty. After her upbringing – seeing how her mother’s lies had backfired so spectacularly – she’d vowed never to tread the same road. But look at me now, Mum. I didn’t bloody learn, did I? Her teeth ground together. One momentary lapse. One desperate lunge to keep her family on the right side of solvency and her marriage intact. She couldn’t believe she’d ever thought that stealing money was the answer, however desperate she’d been. It was a loan, she reminded her inner critic. I was always going to put it back. Always.
James turned to her, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her towards the lifts. ‘Second floor. I’ve been to this suite before.’ There was a note of excitement in his voice. ‘I think you’ll be impressed.’
And she was. It was a far more intimate setting than she’d imagined. Two round tables set with eight places each, small groups of people already gathered in a seating area in front of the large bay window, which was swathed with heavy golden curtains. The lighting was subtle, the carpet deep and a delight to walk on, all soft and springy, muffling the sound. A pianist played a grand piano in the corner. Sara felt like she was in a London club in the 1930s. It was classy, very sophisticated, and she was glad of the dress and shoes.
A tall man with dark hair and an even darker beard strode towards them. ‘James,’ he said, holding out his hand, which James shook enthusiastically. ‘Good to see you. And this must be the lovely Sara.’ He bent towards her as he shook her hand, his clasp firm and lingering. ‘I’m Lewis. As in Hamilton.’ He gave a little laugh and led them over to the seating area, grabbing a couple of glasses from a tray as a waiter passed and handing one to Sara, the other to James.
Champagne? She took a sip, felt the bubbles fizz up her nose. Took another sip to steady her nerves as they joined the gathering and introductions were made.
‘Just waiting for two more, then we’re all set to go,’ Lewis said, beaming at them, his teeth unnaturally white and even. ‘Good journey?’
He was the sort of man who demanded all your attention, his eyes locking with hers in a way that made her feel it would be rude to look away. She was aware of James moving off, chatting to someone else. Then another man came and introduced himself – an importer of training shoes – and Lewis excused himself to greet the final two arrivals.
A waiter appeared to top up Sara’s glass, and she hesitated, feeling a little tipsy already. ‘Go on, be a devil,’ the man she was talking to said, noting her hesitation. She felt unable to refuse, but decided she wouldn’t drink any more until she’d at least had a starter.
Thankfully, a little while later, Lewis called everyone to their tables.
‘Everything okay?’ James asked as he took his place next to her. She smiled and nodded, glad that he was back by her side. She’d spoken to half the men in the room already and found them to be a little intense. She thought she’d done all right; had asked about their businesses and responded with appropriate feigned interest when they started telling her the details. Now she really needed a little catch-up with James to debrief on what she’d learned and find out exactly what he wanted her to do next.
He leant towards her, whispered in her ear, ‘Keep up the good work. You’re doing great.’ His breath tickled her neck and she giggled, then told herself to grow up, because she sounded like a teenager on a first date. It was the champagne. It always made her silly.