Page 87 of Sit, Stay, Love
That’s why he’s here. To network. To be seen.He was an actor doing his job, and she shouldn’t be upset, no matter how miserable she was feeling. She flagged down another champagne, dug out her phone and occupied herself by flicking through Instagram. About fifteen minutes later, she caught his eye. She smiled at him and waved, and he waved and smiled back, brilliant and dazzling, dimples popping. Then he turned, his arm around some guy’s shoulders, and wormed his way further into the heaving crowd until he had completely disappeared.
Sera blinked, staring at the spot where he’d just been standing, utterly gobsmacked. That’s when her tears began to fall, quietly rolling down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and plopping onto the table. She shrank down in her chair, hiding in the darkness, and grabbed a screwed-up cocktail napkin. She dabbed at her face, trying to make sure her eye makeup didn’t smear, then she tossed the damp piece of paper onto the table.Screw this.She wasn’t going to sit in a corner for the rest of the night feeling miserable. Setting her jaw, she gathered up her things and shoved her way towards the exit, not caring how many toes she crushed along the way.
As she stood on the footpath waiting for an Uber, her eyes darted to the entrance of the club every few seconds in case Ethan was coming after her. But he wasn’t and he didn’t, and when her ride pulled up alongside the curb, she took one last look, climbed inside and burst into tears. The Uber driver turned up the radio as he flicked her a sympathetic smile in the rear-view mirror. She looked away and wound down the window, gulping back sobs as the cool air blew in her face.
Then she called Toby.
‘Ser? Are you okay?’ he asked sleepily.
‘Herriot…’ Then she was crying, gasping, sniffing and snivelling into the phone.
‘What. Did. He. Do?’ His voice was hard and dark.
‘Can I come round?’
‘You know you never have to ask.’
Sera fell into Toby’s arms, and he held her to his chest, his warm embrace engulfing her in the tightest of hugs, his body absorbing all her weight as she leaned against him and he gently rocked her side to side.
‘I’m an idiot,’ she mumbled, her voice muffled by his shirt.
Toby cupped his hand under her chin and lifted her face to meet his. ‘He’s the idiot.’ He gently swiped a thumb across her cheek. ‘You look like a panda.’
She pressed her forehead into his sturdy, comforting chest. ‘Great.’
He chuckled. ‘Fantastic dress, though.’
She looked up at him, frowned and spun around. ‘Can you unzip it, please? I just want this thing off.’ He hesitated, so she hunched her shoulders up and down and grumped, ‘Sometime tonight.’
‘Geez,’ he said with another chuckle, and slid down the zip.
She began to shake the dress off, wiggling her shoulders, the straps sliding down her arms.
He grabbed her and held the dress in place. ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing?’
‘I just want the stupid thingoff.’
‘Well, let me get you something to put on first.’
She huffed out a petulant sigh, her bags in one hand, her shoes in the other, and the dress slowly slipping down.
Toby stared at her, swallowed and fled the room, returning with a sweatshirt and a pair of boxer briefs clutched in his fist.
She was too miserable to worry if it was right or wrong that his tongue darted out and wet his lips, or that his gaze lingered on her lacy red bra and the soft mounds of her breasts now rising above the slack neckline of her dress. That was a worry for another time.
He blinked and coughed into his fist. ‘Here.’ He tossed the clothes onto the sofa. ‘I’ll… er… make you some tea.’
‘I want one of your client’s home-brews.’
His forehead creased under his curls. ‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’
She gave him a death stare.
‘Home-brew it is.’
After he left, she peeled the dress off and tossed it over the arm of the couch. Pulling on Toby’s sweatshirt, she took a moment to breathe in his comforting scent before wiggling into his boxer briefs. They fit surprisingly well, seeing as there was a lot more of Toby than there was of her. But she still had to roll the waistband a bit to make sure they stayed put.
‘Are you decent?’ he asked, stepping back into the room, holding two beers and a box of tissues.
