Gold Digger

Lottie

“Why don’t you ever drive, Vics?” I asked as we glided to a stop outside the pub. Vicky tended to travel in the Buckingham town cars with a driver, so we were both sitting in the back.

“I can drive, but I rarely do and never at night.”

I felt some discomfort coming off her. “Okay, hun, you don’t have to?—”

“I have meltdowns,” she blurted out. I was a bit more attuned to Vicky now. She may have been difficult to read, but she wasn’t impossible. This subject made her uncomfortable. I wished I could take back the question.

“Okay, honestly, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”

She shrugged as if it was nothing and that shrug was the first half-lie she’d ever told me. “I had them a lot as a child, but they’re very rare now. You know, standard stuff – hand flapping, shaking, covering my ears. It can be triggered by bright lights, very loud noises, aggressive situations where physical violence is a threat. So, I can drive, but I never drive at night. The headlights, the streetlights, the unpredictability of the environment just mean I’m not comfortable.”

“Okay,” I said softly. “Well, that sounds like a pretty sensible decision then.”

“I always make sensible decisions.”

“Right, yes, of course,” I said, hiding a smile. To be self-effacing was, in Vicky’s book, just another form of lying: she couldn’t see the point in it. “Thanks, Rich,” I said to the driver. “You coming in for a pint?” Richard smiled at me.

“No thanks, Lottie.”

“I could sneak you out a pie and chips?”

Richard’s face flickered at the mention of chips, and his eyes went down and to the left when he said, “No, I’m fine. I’ll just be around here for when you two are finished.”

I winked at him. “I’ll bring you out some chips.”

He laughed as we exited the car and made our way to the door.

“Why are you going to bring him chips when he said he didn’t want chips?” Vicky asked in a perplexed voice as we pushed through the double door.

“Because he really does want chips,” I replied.

“If a man says to me no and I’m fine, then I would assume he’s fine. I don’t understand.”

“He was lying when he said he was fine. I can see more than just people’s words.”

Vicky sighed. “All I can see is their words. I’m the most literal person I know.”

I linked my arm with her and gave hers a firm squeeze. Vicky liked linking arms, just like she liked firm hugs – shaking hands she disliked but could manage. Holding hands was a big no-no for her with anyone, as was somebody touching her unexpectedly. I took a deep breath as we approached the group. Felix was standing with his arm around Lucy. Ollie was there too, looking at them with his head tilted to the side and a curious expression on his face. Lucy was looking nervous but not uncomfortable with being tucked into Felix’s side. To me this was not a surprise – I’d felt the vibes between them for ages, but clearly Ollie was taken aback, and Vicky…

“Hello,” Vicky’s voice cut through the tension. “Lucy, you’re here.”

“Er, hi,” Lucy replied with a small wave.

“Felix has his arm around you,” Vicky put in blunt and to the point as always. “Are you sleeping together?” Lucy’s eyes went wide, and her face flooded with colour.

“Vicky,” I said slowly. “Remember, we talked about questions that are okay?”

Vicky turned to me. “But you want to know this too, correct? As far as we knew, Felix was not sleeping with Lucy. But he’s here, and he has an arm around her. Why can’t I be direct?”

“Lucy’s embarrassed, hun,” I said softly, squeezing Vicky’s arm briefly. Vicky looked at me.

“Oh,” she said.

“You ask whatever questions you want to, Vics,” Ollie said in an irritated tone. He shot me an aggravated look, which softened when he transferred his gaze to Vicky and touched her arm to get her attention. They made eye contact, and he hesitated until Vicky gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, then he hugged her exactly as he knew she preferred. When he moved back, he gave me another filthy look. “Don’t tell her what to do, Forest.”

My chest tightened at another small rejection, but with Ollie, I’d found the best solution was a grey rock approach – I tried not to show any external reaction to his barbs. So I acted as if Ollie hadn’t spoken, turning to Felix and Lucy instead.

“I knew that jumper would suit you,” I said as I hugged Lucy. “You look like a fierce, wool-wearing badass.”

Lucy laughed. “I’m not sure how many badasses wear fleece-lined tights.”

“So, am I allowed to ask if Lucy is your girlfriend?” Vicky said. I sighed as I felt Lucy stiffen. Felix grabbed Lucy’s hand and pulled her to his side.

“Yes, Vicky,” he said with a conviction which made me have to stifle a smile. “Lucy is my girlfriend.”

“I am?” Lucy squeaked, and he frowned down at her.

“Of course you are.” Then it was like we didn’t even exist for her anymore. She looked up at Felix with a soft look. A slow smile spread across her face, her eyes shining with happiness.

“Awesome,” she breathed. No artifice, no game playing, no hiding how absolutely into him she was. And, as if he couldn’t really help himself, he kissed her. My chest tightened with jealousy. To have someone that into you. To have a man look at me the way Felix was looking at Lucy would mean everything. Then, moment ruining bastard that he was, Ollie cleared his throat, snapping Lucy and Felix back to reality as they broke apart.

“Does Mike know about this?” Ollie asked, a hint of accusation in his tone. Mike was Lucy’s older brother. Felix, Mike and Ollie had grown up together in a village called Little Buckingham. The protectiveness in Ollie’s tone made my throat tight. I’d never had anyone be protective of me and here Lucy was with basically two big brothers ready to jump to her defence.

“Not yet,” Felix said. “But he will, alright? I’ll sort it.”

Ollie whistled. “He’s going to lose his shit. Please, let me have a front-row seat to that nightmare.”

“Mike’s not my keeper,” Lucy put in. “And I’ll tell him. He’s my brother.”

“I’ll come to your funeral, mate,” Ollie said, and Lucy growled in frustration. I kept my eyes lowered and bit my lip. She clearly had no idea how lucky she was.

“Well then,” Vicky said. “That’s fine.” Lucy tore her gaze from Felix to look at Vicky. “I’m sorry, Lucy,” Vicky explained. “But I’m much better with social interactions if all the dynamics are made super clear at the start.”

“Vicky’s not good with grey areas. It’s just that…” I broke off midsentence when Ollie made an annoyed noise at the back of his throat. I slid him a nervous look then forced a smile. “Shall we sit?”

“I can’t sit here,” Vicky snapped, glancing at the table and the empty plates.

“I know, hun,” I muttered. “We’ll sit in a booth, all right?”

Vicky nodded, and some tension seemed to leave her shoulders. She couldn’t have sat with the table so crowded with plates and cutlery. Vicky was very prescriptive about food and could find it difficult even being around lots of food debris.

Once we were settled in the booth, and despite the frosty atmosphere between me and Ollie, the conversation flowed. To my surprise, Lucy came out of her shell more than I’d ever seen her manage before. Whether it was the smaller, more relaxed environment, the fact that Felix kept his arm casually draped around her shoulders or that Vicky and I were there, I wasn’t sure. But it was clear that in the right environment, Lucy could be coaxed out of her extreme shyness, and she asked a lot of questions. Whilst I managed to deftly avoid most of them (I did have extensive experience of this, after all), she did coax a surprising amount of information out of the others: boarding school, polo playing, what it was like to be an actual duke. The only titbit of info she did manage to extract from me was how I met Vicky.

“Oh, wow,” Lucy said. “I had no idea you worked for the Buckingham Estate before. Did you ever go to Little Buckingham?”

“I only worked at the London house,” I replied in a small voice as I shifted in my chair.

“Less said about that the better,” muttered Ollie into his beer and my face heated as I shrank further into my seat. “And now you’re a personal assistant to one of the leading financial brokers in London. Cleaner to executive. Perfectly logical transition.”

My face flooded with heat at that, and when my eyes started to sting I prayed I could keep it together.

“Lottie’s very qualified for what she does, Ollie,” Vicky said, frowning at her brother. Vicky often didn’t pick up on Ollie’s digs as they were too subtle for her literal brain to catch, but this one didn’t seem to go over her head.

“ Right ,” Ollie drew out the word. That was my cue to stand.

“I think I’d better leave,” I said in a soft voice, avoiding eye contact with Ollie and turning to Vicky. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“But—” Vicky started, looking a little panicked. I leaned down towards her. “Ollie’s here, hun,” I said softly. “You’ll be good with him. You know that.” Vicky glanced at Ollie and visibly relaxed.

“Of course, I’ll sort you out, Vics,” he said. “Let the girl go home.”Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

Just the girl , not even my name.

That’s all I was now – just that girl who screwed him over.

I grabbed my jacket off the coat rack at the entrance, but when I turned to step outside I ran into what felt like a brick wall. I staggered back and large hands shot out to enclose my upper arms and stop me from falling.

“What the—?” I started to say then stopped as I looked up into those piercing blue eyes.

“Why are you still wearing this fucking coat?” he snapped. I jerked back from him, and he released my arms immediately, which meant I could dodge around him and out of the double doors. But he wasn’t finished with me. Once I was out on the pavement he was again blocking my path.

“Go away, Ollie,” I said, if anything my voice was tired. I was so over these stressful interactions. So over his judgement, his disappointment in me, his censure. This man who’d never struggled a day in his life chose to judge me? What a prick. How had I ever fancied myself in love with him?

He blinked as he frowned down at me, seeming a little thrown by the resignation and lack of fire in my tone. His hand went to the back of his neck, and I found myself immune to the arm and chest muscles that inevitably displayed. Well… almost.

“Buy a better coat, for God’s sake,” he said, his words now more frustrated than angry.

I rolled my eyes. “My coat is none of your business.”

He sighed as if I was the one inconveniencing him . What on earth? I wasn’t blocking his way and banging on about his clothing. The fact was that I didn’t need a new warm winter coat as all the business interactions we had were indoors, so I only had to buy the uniform , as I saw it, for those. I wouldn’t accept company money for my coat, and I sure as heck wasn’t buying one out of my own money. Hayley had a new coat, that was all that mattered. And I had to save the rest for her one-to-one therapy, and maybe, if I was careful, I might be able to afford a private school. Her therapist had advised that smaller class sizes would benefit her. Plus, I wasn’t sure what was happening at her school, but it was clear she hated it there. Even my degree was on hold for the moment. I didn’t want to waste any of the money paying for the next module when I might need private school fees, and unfortunately, my ageing laptop had finally given up the ghost as well.

“You’ve plenty of money to buy a coat now,” he told me in that superior bloody tone. “What’s the point of blackmailing my family if you’re not going to spend the money?”

“I didn’t blackmail your family,” I said through gritted teeth, although why I bothered I had no idea. We’d been over this before and he wasn’t going to believe me. “And you have no idea what I need money for.”

His grumpy expression flickered for a moment as his brows drew lower. “What do you need money for?” His voice was no less frustrated, but it had softened with something almost like concern now, and I had to swallow past the lump in my throat.

“Leave it alone, Your Grace ,” I said, cursing my unsteady voice. “After all, I’m only a cleaner , remember? Not qualified for anything else according to you.”

Ollie let out a huff. “I’m…” he cleared his throat and looked to the side, “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said that.”

I blinked in surprise. “Wow, the great Duke of Buckingham apologises.”

“I mean it, Lottie. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that.”

I narrowed my eyes at him then and took a step towards him. “I’m not embarrassed by the fact I cleaned for a living. It’s honest work. I needed the money and I didn’t have many other options.” Fuelled by my anger, I didn’t realise how close we were now. I was on tiptoes with my face just inches from his. We’d moved towards each other almost unconsciously. It was only when his gaze dropped to my mouth that I realised my mistake.

“Lottie,” he breathed, an almost desperate quality to his voice. In that moment there was just me and Ollie in our own bubble. The strength of desire between us so tangible I could almost taste it.

“Sorry, love,” a man’s voice snapped me out of my trance when he bumped my shoulder on his way past. Ollie opened his mouth to speak again but I was done . As I darted around him he caught my hand. I looked back at him for a moment, my body swayed forwards but then a vision of Hayley flooded my mind and I snatched my fingers from his.

I could not afford to be distracted by Oliver Harding. Not again.