Doing the Right Thing (2 page)

“Okay,” he said.

Shocked she’d managed to speak and even more shocked he’d responded positively, Addie stared straight into his face. He was gorgeous and he’d said yes. He’d said yes! The awareness came far too slowly that she stood there looking her least attractive, her hair disheveled with her mouth hanging open like a basking shark. She clamped her jaw shut.

“Twenty minutes?” he said.

Addie nodded with the energy of one of those dogs with wobbly heads that sit in the backs of cars and then fled, feeling horrified, amazed, thrilled and frightened. She burst into the changing room, caught a glance of herself in the mirror and winced. She needed a quick-fix beauty salon and on the way to the shower noticed all the hairdryers sported “out of order” notices.

That was odd, Will Mansell thought, and wondered what she wanted. He’d watched the gangly brunette struggle with everything she’d attempted. She’d flitted between the equipment like an errant pinball, changing the weights and doing a couple of repetitions before moving on. He’d noticed his brother watching her too. Ed leapt in when the weight fell off her bar and Will had seen him give her one of his looks, the

“Hello sexy. How about it?” one and she hadn’t reacted. Intriguing. Ed hadn’t given up

—did he ever? But in the end it wasn’t Ed she’d asked to go for a drink. Will smiled and pulled down on the handles.

She had legs like a baby giraffe, and appeared just as awkward. After she’d played football with his water bottle, Will had been about to come out with a sarcastic quip until he’d caught a glimpse of her eyes. They were huge and a wild tawny color, like the coat of an Alsatian dog, only she’d sounded about as brave as a King Charles spaniel.

However, Will never looked a gift King Charles spaniel in the mouth, both pleased and surprised she’d picked him and not his brother. Ed would be really pissed off. Will grinned harder and got up.

“Jack? Ed? I’m stopping now. I’ll see you in the bar,” Will said.

“Slacker,” Ed grunted, his face contorted with the effort of doing bench presses.

“Wanker,” Will muttered under his breath as he passed.

When Will had heard his brother and their client, Jack Magelan, agreeing to spend a couple of hours in the hotel gym before they ate, Will thought Ed must have left his brain behind in London. It wasn’t that Will had anything against gyms, but not after seven hours on the motorway, most of it cursing stationary traffic.

Will had made a deliberate show of reducing the weight load the moment he sat at a machine just used by Jack. Idiot Ed did the opposite. When Jack selected his dumbbells, Will went for the smaller size even though he could have taken the next weight up, because he knew if Jack didn’t think he was stronger and fitter than them, they’d be in there all night engaged in some stupid, macho, pissing contest. Will was grateful there were no other men for Jack to outperform because he’d keep going until he gave himself a heart attack.

The request to go for a drink had provided Will with the excuse he’d been looking for, because he’d decided that if Jack asked him to spot for him, he might have accidentally-on-purpose let the weight drop and crush him. Will wanted to kill Ed too, so the pair had a lucky escape. He grinned as he stepped into the shower.

Will soaped his body, wondering what her “big favor” would turn out to be.

Hopefully something simple like sponsoring her in a “cycle across the Atlantic”

challenge. Will smiled at the thought of the woman with the interesting eyes pumping those long legs on a bike. Then he scowled. With his luck, she’d turn out to be some friend of Jesus trying to point out the error of his T-shirt.

Addie lurked by the entrance to the bar, convinced Noah wasn’t coming. Why should he? She was an idiot.
Fou. Baka. Trottel. Idiota.
No matter what country she was in, she’d be an idiot. This had always been a last-ditch idea, but she’d thought hotel gyms would be full of men and she only needed one, a respectable guy who wouldn’t rob her or rape her and, almost as important, he’d be passing through Leeds, so she’d never see him again. Even if he turned out to be local, Addie wouldn’t be going back to the gym, so there’d be no embarrassing meetings afterwards. No, this would be a straightforward, single night’s work for a stranger. Only he wasn’t going to come.

Her shoulders slumped, she turned to leave and found her face inches from his.

“Giving up already?”

Addie tried another smile, but he still didn’t smile back.

“I’m Will.”

“Addie.” She took a deep breath. “What would you like to drink?”

“Surprise me.”

As he made for a table, Addie walked up to the bar. “Lemonade please and…”

What could she order? What did her brothers drink? But maybe he didn’t drink. No, he’d have said. Beer. But what sort? Maybe lager?

“And?”

Addie looked at the barman. He raised his eyebrows. Dark hair. Not bad-looking.

But shorter than her. What was she doing? She’d become obsessed.

“A gin and tonic,” she blurted.

Addie carried the drinks to the table and sat down. Will looked annoyed and she hadn’t said anything yet. Trust her to pick someone miserable. She gulped her drink and grimaced, realizing she’d not only picked up the gin and tonic, which she hated, but had also managed to snag a large chunk of ice in her mouth, along with the slice of lemon. Addie debated whether to spit them back into the glass, decided not, so chewed and swallowed, including the rind. When she’d finished chomping, she glanced up and saw him smile. Oh God, she’d lost this before she started.

He took a sip of the lemonade that should have been hers, and sighed. Addie felt something crumple inside her. It was a mistake to choose a man she fancied. He was too good-looking.

“Are you married?”
Oh God, did I say that out loud?
She waited, half-hoping for a yes, so she could walk away.

“No.”

Question two.
“Are you staying at the hotel?”

“Yes.”

And three.
“Are you busy tomorrow night?”

“No.”

The big one.
“How do you feel about lying?”

She noted the furrowed brow. He hadn’t expected that.

“Sometimes being truthful hurts more,” he said.

A flicker of hope. “So in certain circumstances lying is acceptable?”

“Yes.”

She wanted to kiss him. It would have been easier than asking the next question.

She looked at the table, unable to meet his gaze. “If I give you a hundred pounds will you spend tomorrow night with me?”

He spat his drink back into the glass as he choked and coughed. She raced on, wondering whether to pat him on the back, and annoyed she’d said a hundred when she’d been thinking fifty.

“It’s not what you think. You don’t have to do anything. Well, you have to do something but…” She stopped, exhaled and kept her eyes on his blue-shirted chest. “I’d like you to spend the night in my room pretending to be my boyfriend. You can sleep in my bed. I’ll kip on the floor. I’ll make you breakfast on Sunday and pay you a hundred pounds.”

She delivered this at breakneck speed, then waited. He didn’t speak. Addie dragged her eyes up to his. He was staring at her in what could have been astonishment, but might have been horror. She clenched her fists under the table.

“Why?” he asked.

“D-does it matter?”

“It does if there’s some deranged ex-boyfriend you’re trying to get rid of, some massive bruiser who might launch an attack on bits of my body I’d prefer to keep intact.” He picked up his drink and put it down again before it reached his lips.

“There isn’t.”

He tipped his head on one side. “Why then?”

“I invented a boyfriend, only no one thinks he exists.”

“If you invented him, then he doesn’t.”

Good-looking, but a smart Alec. She might have known.

“I need…certain people to believe he’s real.”

“Like who?”

“My mother.” The only one who mattered. “You don’t have to meet her. You only have to talk to my housemate and her boyfriend, who happens to be my youngest brother. Then he can tell my mum you’re real.”

“Are you gay?”

She gawped at him. “No.”
Did she look gay?
“Are you? Actually, that doesn’t matter.

Being gay is fine. You can still stay the night. In fact, it might be better—”

“I’m not gay.” He glared at her.

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound disappointed.”

“I’m not.”

“How long have you and your imaginary friend been going out?” Will tapped his fingers on the table, flipping the coaster.

“Er…six months.” This was humiliating.

“Six months?” He slapped the coaster flat. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to find a boyfriend? Better than lying to your family.”

Addie bristled. “Look, I presume you’re a businessman and this is a simple business deal. Stay over and leave with…” She paused. Could she drop to fifty? No, he’d notice. “A hundred pounds,” she concluded in reluctance. “And as you’re staying at the hotel, you’ll no longer need a room, so you’ll save even more.”

He started flipping the coaster again. Addie took another gulp of her drink, and shuddered.

“Why’ve you left this so late?” he asked.

She sighed. She hadn’t anticipated being grilled like a sausage. “Things came to a head last Sunday. I’ve spent the whole week looking.”
Her whole life looking
. “I wanted someone perfect to fit the guy I’d described, but I’ve run out of time.”

“You should have stopped after ‘perfect’.”

Addie glanced up and saw no smile. “Sorry.”

“So where do you live?”

“Why do you want to know where I live?” She was immediately defensive.

Will chuckled. It took a moment or two to sink into Addie’s brain.

“You mean you’ll do it?”

He nodded. Her heart stopped. He’d said yes. The man from Delmonte had said yes. She took a huge gasp of air as though she’d surfaced after a deep dive.

“Thank you.” Two words that were nowhere near enough to show her gratitude, but kissing his feet seemed over the top. She’d already written down her address, drawn a map. Her fingers shook as she handed it over.

“Thank you so much. You won’t have to talk much, just say hello, shave in the bathroom, sprinkle hair in the sink, leave the toilet seat up, that sort of thing.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I never leave the seat up.”

“Sorry.” Addie jumped to her feet, desperate to leave before he changed his mind.

“Hold on, what’s my imaginary name?” he asked.

“Sorry. Noah Davies.”

She backed away.

“What do I do for a living? Where do I live? How did we meet? Don’t you think you should give me your mobile number?”

“You’re an investment consultant. You live and work in Manchester. We only see one another at weekends. I always go to your place. I can’t give you a mobile number because my brother has my phone. I put his in the washing machine.” Why had she told him that? She looked at his face. She shouldn’t have told him that.

“So what’s different this weekend?”

“I’m afraid your mother died.” Addie bit her lip.

“What of?”

Her mind went blank, but not blank enough. “A flesh-eating virus.”

He smirked and Addie went into a fast reverse, gripped by such a disturbing surge of lust, she feared she’d leap on him.

“I like a full-cooked breakfast on Sundays,” he called in a loud voice, “with scrambled eggs, fried bread and mushrooms.”

He grinned and as her eyes registered that everyone else in the bar was grinning too, Addie turned and fled.

The following morning, Will expected Ed to join him for breakfast, but his brother’s mobile was turned off and there was no answer from his room. The night before, after their session in the gym, Jack had spent two hours spoiling a decent curry talking about his plans for the business he’d bought in West Yorkshire. Will and Ed were management consultants, experts in business development. They already knew what Jack wanted so why he needed to go over it every time he gave them another contract, Will had no idea, except Jack Magelan liked the sound of his own voice. Fortunately, Jack’s relatives lived in Harrogate, so he was spending the rest of weekend there and not with Will and Ed.

Last night, Ed had eaten all the poppadoms, pleaded tiredness and disappeared, leaving Will to entertain Jack. Only it hadn’t been very entertaining. When he’d finished spouting about his business, Jack had turned his attention to Will’s private life. Will had landed the first Magelan contract after he’d married Vee, Jack’s god-daughter. Jack was a devout Catholic who considered Will’s divorce a sin let alone a huge mistake. It was neither, but Will guessed if it hadn’t been for the fact that the Mansell brothers were good at what they did, Jack would have terminated their arrangement in the way Will had terminated his marriage.

Will had almost finished breakfast by the time his brother turned up wearing the same clothes as the night before. Ed helped himself to black coffee and a large bowl of cereal from the elaborate buffet before slumping next to Will.

“What happened to you?” Will asked.

Ed winced. “Don’t shout.”

Will sighed.

“I crossed the road to Majestik’s,” Ed mumbled.

“And didn’t come back?”

“Sophie was very persuasive.” Ed screwed up his eyes. “I think her name was Sophie.”

“You can’t remember?”

“There were two. I can’t remember which one I ended up with.”

“Not both of them? You’re losing your touch.” Will ate his last mouthful of scrambled egg.

“Yep, it’s worrying. Didn’t you have a date with the legs from the gym?”

Will had let Ed and Jack think so. “Unlike you, I don’t sleep with every woman I talk to.” Will got to his feet. “Be down in the car park in thirty minutes.”

Because Will had another contract in Leeds to run parallel with the Magelan job, he’d signed up for a short-term rental property, a much better deal than paying for hotel rooms and restaurants. He thought it unlikely he and Ed would see much of their London homes before the New Year. On the plus side, Will wouldn’t see his ex-wife either. He and Ed had driven up with a selection of their possessions, though Will ended up with most of his brother’s clothes on the backseat of his Lexus. Storage space in Ed’s Boxster being devoted to his precious music system and a few million DVDs.