CAROL MARINELLI - The Socialite's Secret

He wanted the job.

And that might prove to be a problem.

It hadn’t been a difficult break up.

A painless procedure might be the best description.

Luke and Angie had been going out for a couple of years and had been about to move in together. Angie worked at the Royal and had told him about the upcoming role. But within a week of Luke applying, their relationship had finally come undone.

There just wasn’t the passion that should be there for a couple who were about to move in together. Added to that was Luke’s refusal to, as Angie had annoying called it, share.

Only she hadn’t been talking about the last chocolate in the box!

‘I know they’re in there,’ Angie would insist.

‘What?’

‘Feelings.’ Angie’s response had been exasperated. ‘Emotions.’

‘We don’t all have to ride the roller-coaster, Angie. Just because I don’t …’ Luke had bitten his tongue rather than admit that yes, there were hurts there. Angie would have far preferred that he rise to the bait but Luke had consistently refused to. ‘I guess I’m not messed up enough for a psychiatrist to date,’ Luke had offered.

Luke was straight down the line and dealt with whatever life threw in his path without fuss. He saw no need for prolonged discussions as to how the past had shaped today. He had no wish to come home from a long and difficult shift and to share how it felt to lose a four-year-old or whatever agony the day had brought.

How he felt was his concern, he’d regularly told Angie. Amicably they had agreed that opposites did not attract and had quietly broken up.

There was one thing, though, that Luke needed to do if he was going to take the role at the Royal—and Luke was quite sure that it was his. He needed to be sure, very sure that Angie would be okay having her ex working at the same hospital.

Luke took out his phone and saw that there was a text from Angie, asking how the interview had gone, but it had been sent three hours ago.

It was far too late to return it now.

They were exes after all.

‘Well?’

A soft voice, very close to his ear, pulled Luke out of vague introspection and he caught the heady scent of summer in the midst of winter as he turned to the sight of a young woman.

She had long, black, curly hair and huge navy eyes. Her face was incredibly pale but those large navy eyes were alert and smiling. Her lips were full and she wore dark red lipstick and not much else, just a tiny, tight, red dress.

‘Well, what?’ Luke asked in answer.

‘Aren’t you going to buy me a drink?’

‘No.’ Luke shook his head and tried to gauge her age. He was usually good at it but with her it was an impossible ask. Her skin was smoother than any he had seen and yet her eyes were wise. ‘Are you even old enough to be drinking?’ Luke checked.

‘Of course I am.’ Scarlet frowned at the odd question. Everyone knew how old she was. A fortnight ago she had turned twenty-three and it had been a massive affair—Anya had bought her onto the stage in Paris and had sung ‘Happy Birthday’ to her.

‘I’m Lucy,’ Scarlet said, just to test his reaction and to make sure that this man really didn’t know who she was.

‘I’m Luke,’ he responded. ‘And I’m still not going to buy you a drink.’ Luke had already decided that he was going back to the hotel.

The bartender came over. ‘Hey, Scarlet! Can I get you anything?’

‘Scarlet?’ Luke frowned and watched a small blush spread up her neck and to her cheeks. ‘What happened to Lucy?’

‘That’s my …’ Scarlet didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t want to tell him about the alias that she used for hotel bookings and things. There was a heady thrill that Luke really had no idea who she was.

It was unbelievably refreshing.

‘I’ll have a glass of champagne,’ Scarlet said to the bartender, instead of answering Luke’s question.

‘Put it on mine,’ Luke said.

‘Thank you.’

‘No problem.’ Luke drained the last of his drink and turned to sort out the bill. ‘See you,’ he said.

‘You’re going?’

‘God, yes,’ Luke said as the music pumped.

‘That’s not very polite! You can’t buy me a drink and then leave me alone.’

Luke conceded with a small smile. ‘Drink fast, then.’

She took the tiniest sip.

‘And another,’ Luke said, and then he started to laugh as Lucy—or was it Scarlet?—pretended to take another tiny sip.

They were, it would seem, going to be here for a very long time.

‘Who are you here with?’ she asked.

‘My brother and his friends,’ Luke said. ‘It’s his twenty-first.’

‘And why are you wearing a suit?’ Scarlet asked, and then took another tiny, tiny sip.

‘To ensure that I look like an idiot.’

‘Well, I think that you look …’ She looked over his body and then up to his pale face. He was clean-shaven but there was a dark shadow on his jaw, and his eyes, when she met them properly, were a very deep shade of brown. So dark that she couldn’t see his pupils. ‘I think you’re beautiful.’

‘I don’t think I’ve been called that before,’ Luke said, smiling at her Californian accent. ‘Though I’m quite sure you’ve been called it many times.’

Now Luke looked at her properly, in the way he’d been wanting to since he had turned around to her voice.

That dress showed far too much pale skin and the red stilettos she wore looked a little too big for her skinny legs. His eyes moved to her face and she was way more than beautiful. That fluffy hair was at odds with her delicate features and her mouth was very full and red.

A little too full perhaps, Luke thought, wondering if she’d had fillers, but, God, she was surely way too young for all that sort of thing.

He wanted to kiss her.

That in itself was a rather bizarre thought for Luke. While he thought about sex for approximately fifty seconds of every minute, to want to reach over and kiss, simply kiss, a virtual stranger was something he had never felt before.

Luke checked his memory.

Nope, not once.

This was a new feeling indeed.

‘So who are you here with?’ he asked.

‘A few people.’ Scarlet shrugged but was saved from elaborating when one of his brother’s friends came over. ‘Hey, Doc,’ he said, and picked up his drink, but then he gave Luke an odd, wide-eyed look and left them.

‘Doc?’ Scarlet checked.

‘Doctor,’ Luke said, and told her a little bit more about himself. ‘Which is the reason I’m wearing a suit. I was at an interview earlier.’

‘Doctor?’ Scarlet frowned and, almost imperceptibly, screwed up her nose, as if he had said that he specialised in sewerage and had just dropped in for a drink midshift.

‘What do you do?’ Luke asked her.

Scarlet looked at the bubbles fizzing up in her still very full glass and it matched her veins because they seemed to be fizzing too with excitement. Luke really didn’t know who she was, which meant she could be anything she wanted to be.

Anything at all.

But what?

And then she remembered her time in Africa and a very far-off dream, and she brought it to life but with a little slant.

‘I’m an OB nurse,’ Scarlet said.

‘Where?’ Luke asked, rather hoping it was at the Royal!

‘Back in LA.’

‘You’d be called a midwife here.’

‘A midwife?’ Scarlet checked. ‘A what?’

‘A midwife,’ Luke said, and watched as she started to laugh.

He didn’t get a chance to play with words and, oh, they wanted to play with words, but his brother was heading over and Luke had no intention of sticking around for a drunken conversation with him. ‘I’ve got to go,’ Luke said, and as he moved to his full height from leaning against the bar he realised just how tiny she was because even though she was wearing stilettos he towered over her.

‘So,’ she asked, ‘where are you moving on to?’

‘Moving on?’ Luke checked, and then realised that she was asking him what club he was off to next. ‘Bed.’

‘Yum!’

She took another sip of her drink and met his eyes. Luke had never met anyone like her in his life and, leaving aside the flirty offer, he actually wanted to know her some more, but well away from this dive.

‘I meant …’ Luke said, then gave up trying to correct her. ‘Can I Call the Midwife?’

Clearly she didn’t get his little joke because she frowned at his invitation to get in touch.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Luke said. She was from another part of the globe after all and, yes, he was going back to the hotel, he decided, as an overly friendly Marcus joined them.

‘Can I have a word?’ Marcus asked, slapping him on the shoulder.

‘Sure,’ Luke agreed, knowing full well that Marcus would be asking for some more money to be put behind the bar before Luke left. Marcus was studying medicine and was perpetually broke. It annoyed Luke. He himself had worked all his way through med school but he chose to say nothing tonight as it was Marcus’s birthday.

But as they pulled away from Scarlet, and Luke went to get out his wallet, it turned out that Marcus had other things on his mind.

‘How did you two get talking?’ Marcus asked.

‘What?’ Luke frowned. ‘Do you know her?’ he checked, wondering if she was cutting one of Marcus’s friend’s lunch. ‘Is she here with—’

‘You don’t know who she is, do you?’ Marcus grinned. ‘Do you ever come out from behind that stethoscope of yours? That’s Scarlet.’

‘I know that.’

‘Anya’s daughter.’

‘Oh!’

Yes, Luke did know who Anya was. After all, she had been famous before he’d even been born, not that Luke paid much attention to such things, but he had seen Anya and her entourage leave the club. Now that he thought about it, he did recall that Anya had a daughter who went everywhere with her.

He glanced over and saw that Scarlet was trying to get away from some loud, obnoxious guy who was trying to drag her over to dance, and two burly men were moving in.

She was here with her own bodyguards, Luke realised, not the vague friends that she had alluded to. Now he understood Marcus’s friend’s odd look when he had come over.

Scarlet was a star.

‘She seems nice.’ Luke shrugged. She had. ‘Anyway, I’m heading off. I’ll go and settle the bar tab and put some more behind. You have a good night.’

As Luke went to the bar Scarlet came over.

‘Dance?’ she offered.

‘I’m just leaving.’

‘Just once dance,’ Scarlet persisted, but he shook his head.

‘Not with your bodyguards watching.’

‘You know who I am now, don’t you?’

‘Not really,’ Luke said. ‘I know two of your names and I’ve heard of your mother. You’re not a midwife, I take it?’ She shook her head and Luke glanced down at the bill he had just been given. ‘There should be champagne on there,’ he said to the bartender.

‘It’s on the house,’ the bartender said, and smiled at Scarlet as it dawned on Luke that she didn’t have to pay.

Scarlet’s presence in the club was more than enough.

It annoyed Luke.

Not that Scarlet had been playing him along—now that he understood why, it didn’t annoy him in the least—but he wanted to have bought her that drink.

‘Add it,’ Luke said, and handed back the bill.

‘Sure.’ The bartender shrugged.

He turned around and Scarlet was still there. ‘Take me with you,’ she said. Her arms went around his neck and Luke went to peel them off but then he heard the desperation in her voice. ‘Please.’ Scarlet closed her eyes. She was so tired of the noise and no doubt drama would await her when she returned to the hotel. It felt like for ever that she had been trying to escape. She looked up at Luke and he was so calm and so slightly bored with it all, as was she, and she gazed into his beautiful eyes. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’