Millie comes in and tops up everyone’s wine yet again. ‘Cameron, I’ve had a call from the taxi company – the car they sent is stuck in a drift. Are you OK to wait? I’m not sure what else we can do, to be honest.’
‘There must be a spare room here he can crash in, Millie?’ Simon booms. ‘Shame to break up the party anyway.’
‘Cameron, would you like me to make up the bed in the attic room as a contingency?’ Millie asks. ‘That is, if no one has any objection?’
Cameron waves his hand impatiently. ‘I’ll wait for the taxi. No great rush to get home. Might even walk – it’s not that far. The air’ll do me good.’
‘Well, it’s up to you, but it’s pretty bad out there now – I wouldn’t be surprised if the taxi can’t get through at all,’ Millie says. ‘I’ll make up a bed anyway in the room at the top. Just in case.’
‘Thanks, darling,’ Cameron says. Millie maintains a fixed grin but I’m sure I see her recoil slightly.
‘I’ll leave the wine and spirits here, but unless there’s anything else, I might call it a night if that’s OK?’ Millie says. ‘What time would you like breakfast in the morning?’
Simon looks at his watch. ‘Oof it’s late! Breakfast about nine? Then we can still meet our guide at ten if we get a move on.’
Millie nods. ‘Of course. See you in the morning.’
Ria is cackling too loudly at something Matt has said. I stand up.
‘I hope you’ll all excuse me,’ I say. ‘I’m rather tired and would like to go to bed now. Cameron, it was lovely to meet you.’ This is a lie, it wasn’t lovely at all. ‘I’ll give you a call next week when I’m back in the office to discuss how we can move things forward, if that’s acceptable to you? Perhaps I can have my PA call your assistant to arrange a suitable time?’
Cameron hauls himself up to shake my hand. ‘Yeah, sounds great, mate. I’d like to show you round some of the other chalets later in the week too ideally so you can get a full view of exactly what we offer, why you’ll want us on your books.’ He’s wobbling on his feet and squints as he looks at me, as if he can’t quite focus. ‘Was good to meet you this evening,’ he continues, ‘and your lovely wife too, of course.’
Ria smiles sarcastically and slurs, ‘And so lovely to make your acquaintance, Cameron.’ I am so incensed right now I could almost hit her. Cameron is vile but, even so, how dare she? She knows how important this is for me. For us both.
I go upstairs and flop down on the bed. Despite trying to rein it in, drinking-wise, way more than any of the others seem to be bothering with this week, my head is spinning and I can already feel a headache coming on.
I haul myself up from the bed and go to the bathroom to find some painkillers. There is a burst of raucous laughter from downstairs. I pull a strip of paracetamol from my washbag but it’s empty. My head is throbbing now. Ria must have some somewhere, surely? I unzip her make-up bag and rifle through – past the little boxes, brushes, packages, and lipsticks. It smells like her. I wish she’d come up to bed so I could be sure she’s not embarrassing me down there. God knows how much she’s showing me up. I need Cameron on board. I need Simon to think we’re a company worth investing in – though he seemed to be out-drinking even Ria this evening, so perhaps I don’t need to worry too much about that at least. My fingers eventually hit something which feels like a blister pack of pills and I pull it out.
It’s not paracetamol.
21
January 2020, La Madière, France
Ria
Simon and Cameron are doing shots now. There’s a lot of willy-waving going on (metaphorically only, thankfully). I guess this is one of those weird situations where both men stand to benefit from impressing each other. Poor Hugo. He’s completely out of his comfort zone here. Still, best that he’s gone up to bed rather than staying down here giving me dirty looks. Fuck him.
Millie seems to have retreated for the evening. Does she live in the chalet with us? I guess she must do. I hadn’t thought about it until now. You wouldn’t want to be going out in this weather. There’s talk of Cameron staying the night, so no chance of getting rid of him any time soon, sadly. Matt and I are on a squashy sofa tucked into a corner. The room is spinning slightly. The wine this evening was fabulous. Much as I didn’t want to come this week, at least the food and drink are excellent. I pour myself another glass from the bottle Millie left us and sink back into the sofa. I close my eyes and let my head loll towards Matt until it rests on his shoulder. It doesn’t matter – Simon and Cameron aren’t paying us any attention.
‘We still skiing tomorrow?’ I murmur.
I move my hand so it rests lightly on his crotch, careful to do it as if I’ve done it by accident. I feel him harden.
‘You sure you want to ski in this weather?’ he asks, shifting slightly.
I lift my head to peer out of the huge window at the other end of the chalet. There’s a light outside and I can see the snow is coming down even harder than earlier.
‘Maybe not,’ I sigh. ‘What about you?’
‘Not if I can help it.’ He covers his groin with a cushion and presses himself against my hand. ‘I can think of other things I’d rather do.’
I look him in the eyes, unzip him, and place my hand around his straining cock. ‘Me too,’ I whisper. ‘I’ll have to see if I can get away.’
With my other hand, I pass him my phone. ‘Put your number in and I’ll text you. Hugo’s planning to go skiing and sucking up to Simon, so we might be able to … go for coffee or something.’
I move my hand and see him struggle to concentrate as he puts his number in my phone. ‘OK,’ he gasps. ‘There you go. I’ll look forward to coffee. Or something. I think you’d better stop now or …’
I give him a gentle squeeze and he groans softly as I withdraw my hand.
‘I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow. For coffee. Or something. I’d best get to bed.’
I stumble up the stairs and open the door as quietly as I can, not wanting to wake Hugo; he’s sure to be cross with me for drinking too much. Matt has left me feeling all horny, but I’m drunk and tired and can do without Hugo slobbering all over me – I’m not that horny.
I can see the light is on as I push the door open. Hugo is sitting on the bed with his back to me, staring out at the snow, which is now coming down so hard it looks like diagonal white lines. ‘Hugo? You OK?’ I ask, trying to make my words sound clear because I can’t be bothered with him telling me off for being pissed and not playing the part of the corporate wife well enough. Again. ‘I know I drank too much but honestly, listening to those twats banging on, I need something to get me through, and I’m really one hundred per cent sure Cameron will want to work with you – and that’s why we’re here after all. Simon will invest too, so it will all be …’
He stands up slowly and turns to face me. I stop talking. I’ve never seen him look so angry. ‘It’s not that,’ he hisses. ‘Though you did drink too much. Again. It’s this.’ He throws something down on the bed.