Page 67 of Snowed In with You

‘Yeah, well. You set a great example,’ said Anthony, giving Lucy’s hand an apologetic squeeze.

‘Will you sing for us later?’ said Zoe, turning her attention to Nate.

Nate visibly paled under his tan. ‘Oh,’ he said with an awkward laugh. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Please?’ said Zoe. ‘It would totally make my wedding.’

‘No, I really can’t,’ said Nate, looking slightly panicked. ‘It’s a contract thing. I can’t sing in public without . . . you know . . . I’m really sorry.’

‘Oh,’ said Zoe, looking devastated. ‘Well, never mind.’ She tossed her head, her hair rigid with hairspray, and Lucy could tell that she actually minded a great deal. How many people had she told that Nate Lambert was going to sing at her wedding?

‘I just need to . . . I’ll be back in a minute,’ said Nate, giving Lucy a final glance and hurrying towards the door to the hotel reception.

‘Give me a minute,’ muttered Lucy, extracting herself from Anthony’s grasp and hurrying after him, ignoring the swooping, sick feeling in her stomach. ‘Nate,’ she called as she spotted him in the corridor. He ignored her and pushed through the front door into the car park, so Lucy shouted his name again, but with feeling. ‘NATE.’

‘What?’ said Nate, turning to face her. It was freezing out here, and the word was accompanied by a cloud of vapour in the frigid air.

‘Is that true?’ she asked. ‘The singing contract thing? Or do you just not want to?’

‘What does it matter?’ snapped Nate. ‘Lying seems to be all the rage these days.’

‘What does that mean?’ demanded Lucy, feeling suddenly wobbly in her heels. Christ, it was cold.

‘Forget it,’ said Nate. ‘It’s none of my business.’

Lucy opened her mouth to explain about Anthony, to justify herself, but couldn’t find the words. Nothing she could say would make the smallest amount of difference, other than to make her situation look even more messed-up and pathetic. A broken, lonely, freezing-cold woman in a green dress, pretending to be someone’s girlfriend.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ said Nate. ‘Take my jacket.’

‘No,’ said Lucy, reaching out to stop him before he’d wrestled one arm out. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Sasha?’ It struck her that she might never see Nate again, and she felt a powerful need to hear him say it.

There was a pause of maybe three seconds, but it felt like forever to Lucy. ‘Shit,’ breathed Nate, visibly paling under his unseasonal tan. ‘How did you find out?’

‘I guessed,’ said Lucy. ‘But Sasha already knows that. Why didn’t she tell you?’

‘I haven’t seen her all week,’ said Nate, looking desperate. ‘I’ve been all over the place, with Alex and his team. We’re catching up tomorrow, she’s got a list of things to talk to me about.’

Lucy swallowed the sick feeling in her throat at the thought of Nate and Sasha chatting in bed on a Sunday morning, the way she and Nate had last Sunday.

‘So why are you upset with me?’ she asked. ‘Switzerland was a surreal experience, but we’re back now. What do you want from me, exactly?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Nate helplessly, burying his hands in his pockets as he shuffled awkwardly in the cold. ‘You feel like some kind of . . . anchor, I guess.’

‘An anchor?’

‘Yeah. Like, everything is mad and moving too fast right now. But thinking about you makes me feel . . . I don’t know. Calmer. More on top of things.’

Lucy took a deep breath, feeling a mix of humiliation and disappointment that Nate’s connection to her was one of stability and safety, and not the same burning, aching desire she felt for him.

‘I can’t be your anchor, Nate,’ she said gently. ‘I can barely anchor myself half the time.’ And I have feelings for you, thought Lucy, properly admitting it to herself for the first time. I didn’t see it coming, but it’s there. And that’s a mess I definitely can’t get into.

‘I know,’ said Nate. ‘I’m sorry. Things are a bit crazy. I just—’

‘It’s fine,’ said Lucy. ‘Sasha is amazing, and Alex clearly knows what he’s doing. You’re in good hands, Nate. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.’

‘Yeah,’ said Nate, looking a little lost. ‘I guess it is.’

‘You should go back in,’ said Lucy. ‘There are two hundred people in there waiting for a selfie.’