Skinny Dipping Read Online Free Page B

make a man very happy, just by doing a simple, profitable trade.”
    “Not going to happen.” She went toward the entry.
    “Maybe I’ll see you round,” he called. “You can sleep on it?”
    Sophie dared a glance over her shoulder. “I doubt it,” she said. He was still watching her, what a creep. But worse, what a fool she’d been, to think anyone would ever fancy her.
    She tried to put him out of her mind as she entered the grand hotel. An unfamiliar sensation shot up her body as she checked the canvas wallet was still in her handbag. Imagine if she’d taken his leather wallet? The man was probably a thief, a criminal, and she’d end up in cuffs because the wallet was a piece of evidence from a crime scene. Or something….
    She focused her mind on the signs, following the cardboard arrows to the London Annual Advertising Awards. She walked through the corridor, trying to forget the stranger. He’d asked for her wallet. Strange. Quirky. Unforgettable. She needed to think of advertising ideas just like that encounter.
    The arrows took her to the hotel ballroom, where a small table was set up outside. She could hear the music inside. A band was playing a familiar tune. Behind the table an assistant sat, tapping her long, manicured fingernails.
    “I’m Sophie Smart and I should be on the guest list.”
    The assistant looked at her watch. “Smart, Smart, Smart.” Her nail ran down the register.
    “Table 94.” The assistant gave Sophie a nametag.
    “Thanks,” Sophie nodded. “Do you know if Matthew Silver’s here yet?”
    The woman scanned her eyes over the guest list for the second time. Sophie noticed Matthew Silver’s tag sitting on the table, the embossed letters looking up at her. “It’s okay, his tag’s here. I guess he’s later than I am.”
    She entered the ballroom, instantly seeing a potential client, Tom Johnson from Barney’s chocolates. At least she’d have a lot to talk to him about. All those chocolate wrappers in her bag were there for this reason – to get the Barney’s chocolate work. She just needed to be smooth and sell.
    Matthew Silver didn’t turn up to the gala.
     
     

Chapter 3
     
     
    After the London Annual Advertising Awards, Sophie directed a taxi back to Derek’s place. Halfway there, realization hit like a lighting bolt and she rerouted the taxi to her new Highbury flat address.
    The car stopped outside the blue door. She removed her wallet from her handbag, and the taxi driver quoted an exorbitant fare. She rubbed her ears, hoping she misheard, maybe he misquoted.
    “It’s okay lovie. We all move round at times, your secret’s safe with me.” The cabbie winked, leaning forward. “You have a good night now.”
    She stumbled out of the car, ran up the steps to the front door, and wondered why the key refused to turn in the lock. The tennis ball swung on her keychain. Her keychain for Derek’s place. She was using the wrong set. Awareness bubbled up inside her and finally she managed to open the door with the right keys.
    She wobbled up the unfamiliar staircase, thrust open her bedroom door. She shimmied past the maze of cartons in her room, and stripped off her clothes, lying down to sleep. Even with alcohol streaming around in her system, the bed felt far too cold, far too roomy. Usually Derek’s body was there, next to her. She used to wrap her legs around his body to seek warmth, or put her cold feet between his thighs. She stretched out into the space, moving herself into the middle of the bed.
    She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t be one of those pathetic, snivelling girls. Even after all the champagne drunk at the gala, she felt an overwhelming sadness. She felt hollow, empty. She cast the thoughts aside, willing the visions of Derek to stop plaguing her mind. They didn’t.
     
    ***
    With images of Derek still haunting her, Sophie thrust her body up out of bed at six thirty the next morning. There was no point torturing herself, because she didn’t want to