Geli Voyante's Hot or Not (21 page)

‘Do we have to go?’

‘Yes. We’re here now, so we might as well go in.’

‘We could still leave though. We’re not through the door.’

‘Come on, stop stalling,’ I huff, grabbing Theo by the hand.

I feel the reluctance in his fingertips. Does he
honestly think that I want to be here? I didn’t have Claire’s brilliant excuse to get out of this – she’d booked her skiing holiday before Tiggy became engaged – but the sooner we show our faces, the sooner we can leave. He’s moaned ever since I asked him to accompany me to this party, since we got together in fact. It’s not exactly how I imagined we would be. Not even close, but I’m not in the mood to think about
that
issue right now. I just need to get through this awful evening and escape... but I also need to check out the delicious Calvin Murphy-Lee whose Facebook photos look more and more appealing each day I peruse them. I really hope he has a hideous personality, or perhaps a dodgy squint that hasn’t been captured on one of the two-hundred-and-three perfect photos I have scrutinised carefully over the past few weeks.

Aaah
, the past few weeks. After the wash-out of NYE, I have to say the year has not improved, even with my low profile. Theo is still keeping up his no-sex rule and we’ve barely seen one another outside of work. Even inside it we’re not as chatty as we once were because Susie’s New Year resolution appears to be to annoy me. She’s always popping by my pod to talk to me about this, that
and
the other, despite my glowing appraisal. (How on earth did I manage
that
?) At home Glinda has been preoccupied with sorting out the best engagement party
ever
to make up for the cancelled NYE one and it’s all been a bit boring for me. Now it’s going to be
the
ultimate boring night at Tiggy’s engagement party, but I’m thankful I get to finally put a stop to my crush on Calvin when I clock his fatal flaw.

The first person I
see as Theo and I enter the ballroom of the exclusive Carmichael Hotel on Park Lane is, of course, Calvin. More notably, Calvin’s expression of rapt attention and devotion to the witch standing next to him in her teensy dress. More teensy than her usual standards. It looks to be the latest offerings from the Ramone winter collection. It’s
January
, but it has the desired effect of showing off as much tanned flesh as legally possibly… and some that should be illegal, if you ask me.

F
rom this distance, Calvin looks as gorgeous as his pictures promised. I almost don’t want to meet him because I’m certain I will internally explode with jealousy. I
still
can’t believe she’s getting married… but, brave face time. She cannot know she has won this round.

‘Drink?’

Theo interrupts my Calvin-focused thoughts – a bad case of halitosis, perhaps? That would definitely put me off him. Thankfully Theo is looking ridiculously attractive tonight, not that he doesn’t always. He has this sexy beard thing going on, and this frustratingly reminds me of The Ledbury and
that
fantastic stubbly present.

Sadly it seems
that sort of night isn’t going to be repeated anytime soon, even though Theo’s
other
present from that night has thankfully cleared up. I have depleted Boots of several boxes of condoms because I won’t be allowing that schoolgirl error to happen again... if we
ever
move beyond kissing and touching through clothes. Jeesh.

‘Please,’ I
mutter, and he quickly scuttles off to the bar.

It’s not a moment too soon
for him because in the next second I hear an excited yelp of the Tiggy Boodles persuasion. Lucky git.

‘
Angie!’ she squeals. ‘Come here. Come!’ she demands. ‘Meet Cal!’

The people i
n her group look amused at this; I’m not. I would quite like to pretend I didn’t hear her deafening commands. I would quite like not to be here full stop.

‘Hello,’ I manage to chirp as I walk across
to join them.   

I can’t help but feel a little smug as I notice what appears to be an admiring glance from Calvin. Ha! I know on my first date with Theo I wore practically nothing, but tonight I’ve gone for a demure, yet elegant look. I’m happy I can give Tiggy a run for her money
, though that’s like comparing an amateur play to a professional production.

I’m wearing an understated
floor-length silk dress in the new black, still black, from Reiss; Tiggy is wearing a tiny leather slit dress, also in black, and it is
definitely
from the Ramone collection. She’s teamed it shockingly with a deep metallic blue belt, dyed light blue pearls and a satin clutch in aqua-blue. She’s made-up with the bluest eye shadow that can be found on a beauty counter outside of the ’80s; there’s even electric-blue fake lashes to match. It looks amazing with her tan and sun-kissed (bleached) blonde hair. Bitch.

It is
no wonder that Calvin has resumed staring at Tiggy – maybe that admiring look was wishful thinking? My make-up is enhancing but simple. Why would Calvin look at me? I scream “grandma”, perhaps even “spinster of the parish” given Theo is nowhere in sight to show I am, indeed, desired. I suspect he won’t return to my sight until I’m nowhere near Tiggy.

‘Angie!’ Tiggy gushes. ‘Meet Cal!’

The moment of truth. I turn to face Mr Calvin Murphy-Lee, a smile on my face. ‘Hello, Calvin.’

I shake
his extended hand and experience a jolt down my body.
Fuck
.

‘Lovely to finally meet you,’ he
says politely, shaking my hand in
that
way, no indication of whether he felt that too.
Was that just me?
‘How are you?’ he asks.

Jolt aside, that handshake indicates that
Calvin Murphy-Lee is definitely an Old Boy, and with a twang like that on his deliciously kissable lips... No, don’t go there.

Oh
, an Old Boy? Glinda explained this to me given things work differently back in South Africa. Calvin Murphy-Lee is an Old Boy – old money – and he’s a Prefect. He gets on with everyone, and he’s always polite and controlled, even if he’s raging inside. This makes him quite an animal in the sack – swoons – because where else could he take his rage out?

There
’s the Head Boy – a slight loner – usually a consultant in crisis management. Glinda pointed out that we don’t know any Head Boys because Head Boys tend to marry Head Girls whose heroes are Margaret Thatcher and Germaine Greer. They go on to have Head Babies who as Head Children excel at Scouts and later are always the sort of people who carry emergency flares on a quiet ramble in the Lakes… on a bank holiday... when the chance of getting lost and someone
not
spotting you is higher than winning the lottery on Wednesday, Friday
and
Saturday, all in the same week.

That leaves the
people like Jeeves who are the guys who supply the Head Boy with a quick toke, the Prefects with their poppers and, later on, lines of charlie to be cut with platinum credit cards. These are the people who go on to become the movers and shakers, the scene-creators. The lovable idiots who bet their 17
^th
birthday present of a DB9 one week, lose it, but end up winning a vintage Aston Martin the week after. Lucky sods, but the party is always on them.

‘I’m very well, thank you,’ I reply, hoping he’ll
sweep me into a hug (please, please, please!) or offer up a kiss (hel-lo!).

Neither
. Damn. ‘You’re looking lovely.’ He smiles at me warmly. Oh God, I’m transfixed on his mouth. I bet he knows how to use those lips...

‘
You didn’t get stuck in the rush, I hope?’ he continues, pulling me back to now.

‘It was
–’

‘Cal,
’ Tiggy coos, causing him to turn his attention back to her, but I’m certain I detected a glint in his eyes. A glint because he felt what I felt? My toes are still tingling.

‘Ah yes,’ I say as Tiggy
pointedly wraps herself around Calvin. ‘Congratulations!’

‘Where’s Theo?’ Tiggy asks.

‘Oh, gone to get drinks,’ I dismissively say.
Calvin, look back at me!

‘Theo is Angie’s
gorgeous
boyfriend,’ Tiggy explains. ‘They look so perfect together. It’ll be those two next.’ She flashes me an evil look that Calvin misses – a look that says, no chance, Theo will
never
marry you.

‘And doesn’t Angi
e look so elegant tonight?’ Her tone suggests I don’t usually scrub up so well.

Calvin chuckles good-naturedly. ‘I
’m stood with the two most gorgeous women in London.’

Tiggy pokes him in the ribs at this which saves them from noticing my blushes at Calvin’s compliment.
He thinks I’m gorgeous!

‘O
f course my little Antigone is London’s most precious jewel,’ he sickeningly says in a baby voice. Vom. Points lost for that.

Tiggy beams
in what looks like sheer, spontaneous delight, but I know differently. That is calculated; Calvin, on the other hand, is looking at Tiggy in such a way that it makes me want to puke, my feelings towards him aside. There’s something not quite right about this engagement, at least on Tiggy’s side, but I can’t figure out what. She’s not even
slept
with him. I smell a rat.

‘How lovely,’ I trill, reminding them of my presence as they disgustingly smooch and pull ba
by faces at one another. Yes, I am jealous. ‘I’d better go and find Theo. Congratulations again.’ I smile at them. ‘Antigone. Calvin.’

Tiggy of course glares at the A-word. Funny how she didn’t seem to mind a moment ago when Calvin was using it.

I walk away from them and take in the sheer opulence of the Carmichael’s ballroom. This is one of the most expensive hotels in London; it’s breathtaking. The curtains that sweep from ceiling to floor shimmer, as they should when there are thousands of pearls hand-stitched onto the heavy silk material using twenty-four carat gold thread. Famous paintings that should be displayed in art galleries are dotted around for us to fawn over and if they don’t entertain your eyes, the scene painted on the ceiling by the famous Myanmar, the hottest painter around, should. He’s the modern-day Michelangelo and has somehow managed to capture the privileged world without verging on the grotesque. An utter genius.

A
fter being hit on six times whilst searching for Theo, I find a quiet table to sit at. Mingling is the last thing on my mind because I’m starting to feel a little – no, a
lottle
– depressed here.

I really wish Glinda was here.
More than that though, I really wish Tiggy wasn’t getting married, especially not to Calvin. I wish it was me instead. That crush on him? It’s just got a lot more intense.

Right, let’s review my life because
, quite frankly, I am desperate. Seeing Calvin appear to be genuinely in love with Tiggy has hit home that I am a big mess. Seeing Calvin has hit home that I, perhaps, have a
major
crush on the man who is marrying that faux copycat. Which is worrying. On so many levels. I have to say, that life-plan I made, well it’s gone horribly wrong.

It all started
with going to university.
Don’t
settle down. That was straight-forward enough and pretty sensible I thought because I hardly wanted to be stuck with the
boys
I knew back then and, anyway, being single back then was never an issue...
now
it’s a nightmare.

Next bit: move
to London, settle into a brilliant career and date eligible males. This bit never worked out – I ended up alone and with a Trouble reputation. By now I’d have hoped I would have met my future husband... I have met Theo, but it keeps hitting me that there’s something not quite right with him. I’m not sure what it is, and I’m having doubts. Monstrous doubts.

It’s just I can’t picture Theo ever looking at me l
ike Calvin was looking at Tiggy; though, if you ask me, Calvin seems taken by Tiggy in a manner that strikes me that this will pass once he works out whatever internal struggle he seems to be battling. I’m not saying this merely because I hate Tiggy and I want him to dump her, I’m saying it because
I fancy him
. How bad is this? There was
something
there between us though, call it chemistry...

Oh, w
hat am I saying? I have
Theo
, Theo who I have pined over for the past three years whose girlfriend I now am even though he won’t declare our relationship on Facebook. Theo says it’s because “it’s complicated”, but it suggests to me that Theo has some serious demons to work through... I guess I do, too.

L
ike one called Calvin. I guess the two of them are pretty similar – devastating looks and intelligence – and I imagine they are both quite talented in the bedroom department... not that I have any way of knowing if Calvin is... and it’s been quite a while since Theo and I...

Theo
is so confusing. I can’t weigh him up and this is probably why I’m drifting into the dangerous crush territory of Calvin Murphy-Lee land. This engagement party isn’t helping because these thoughts all started the day Tiggy got engaged – the happy day Theo also asked me out – but he’s proving to be just as disappointing as everything else in my life. Admittedly, he hasn’t run away...
yet
, but look how quickly he left me tonight and how long I’ve been sat here on my own. Maybe I would have been happier getting moved from the paper and I would enjoy working at
Cupcake
. Maybe I would have met a nice man there, one who wants to sleep with me. Quite frankly, a good shag is exactly what I need right now to stop these...

‘
Anything I can help you with?’ A voice interrupts my thoughts of delicious sex. I glance up and almost jump out of my skin as I blush a deep red. It’s like he’s read my mind and has appeared to offer himself to my sexual needs. Hallelujah!

‘Sorry?’ I
stammer.

He smiles easily at me
; how easy I would be for him. ‘Anything I can help you with, Angie?’ he repeats. ‘Only, you look perplexed.’

‘It’s Angelica actually
,’ I mutter. ‘Or Geli.’

‘Oh
, right.’

H
e strokes his face. How I would like to stroke his face, run my fingers all over his…
Stop it, Geli
.

‘Like
your column title,’ he continues with a look that suggests he’s managed to read my dirty thoughts, too. I flush at the thought.
Again
. ‘Tigs said you prefer Angie though.’

‘No.
’ I try not to snap at him. It’s not his fault that the she-devil has fed him lies.

Oh, he’s
gorgeous. So, so gorgeous. I feel all tingly.

‘Geli it is then. Angie is a
sister thing, huh?’

‘She’s not my sister,’ I manage through gritted teeth.

He smiles good-naturedly. ‘Stepsister, right?’

I bite my lip.
Right, if Calvin asks me a direct question, I will answer him truthfully. I will not be a saboteur, as much as I would like to be. I nod at his question.

‘You girls are inseparable,
I hear?’
What on earth has Tiggy told him
? ‘Tigs was saying,’ he continues, ‘you both lived in the Berry?’

‘Berea,’ I correct
with a wry smile.

‘Yep, and you went to school t
ogether, then to Leeds, and now you work for the same company and are practically neighbours.’

‘If you count us both living in London as
us being neighbours,’ I mutter, even though we do both reside in Notting Hill.

‘And you’re stepsisters
,’ Calvin continues obliviously. ‘I mean, it’s sad your parents separated, but isn’t it nice your Dad and Ursula found each other?’

Wh
at
? Ursula
split
them up. This was not a celebrated marriage; it was an evil, manipulative act from a woman who raised her daughter in the same way. See also Tiggy stealing Eric off me.
What lies has Calvin been told?

I’m about to set him straight, but he continues. ‘And
, of course, you even shared a boyfriend! How funny! Eric, wasn’t it?’

He winks
. I am in shock but, more so, I am in serious lust-pull from that wink. It’s almost as if he’s suggesting he wouldn’t mind being shared by me and Tiggy but, please let me be clear here, not in a ménage
à
trois way.

I flush
, and he grins wider. It’s hot in here, or is that our chemistry crackling again? Either way, I can’t answer him. I’m lost for words; I’m also too lost to rectify Tiggy’s more flattering version of our history because of the over-powering urge I have right now to jump this man and do disgustingly-pleasant things to him. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, although his fiancé would. Maybe I can see if she wants to trade Calvin for Theo? One thing though, whilst I know she would leap at the chance, Theo wouldn’t touch her with a barge pole.

‘Geli?’ Calvin
places his hand on my arm.

I pull my arm back in shock – judging by his face, he
definitely felt that crackle. My mouth feels dry; my palms are itchy; my eyes wild.

I
know I’ve been admiring his photos a lot, but I’d never really hanker after Tiggy’s victims, even if they
do
look like Calvin Murphy-Lee... would I?

It seems I would, and
I manage a croak, too unsure what my words will betray if I manage to formulate any. Calvin is looking quite hot and bothered, too. It can’t be normal to react like this to someone if you are engaged to the love of your life? The words on the tip of my tongue really aren’t appropriate because this is
Calvin’s engagement party
, but luckily I’m saved by Theo storming over,
sans
drink. I burn red at my disloyalty; he doesn’t even notice.

‘Let’s go
,’ he snaps.

‘What’s up, mate?’ Calvin asks
slipping back into his polite patter – he’s all tones of friendly concern, nothing more, like we were just chatting about the weather.

I notice with the two stood side-by-side that Calvin is a few inches taller than Theo and, dare I say it, better looking. There
’s warmth in his features whereas with Theo... well, he comes across as haughty and arrogant. I wonder if those extra few inches apply elsewhere...

‘I’m not well.’ H
e glares at Calvin, then turns to me. ‘Baby, take me home and make me better?’

There’s a glint
there, the same glint he had at The Ledbury. Ding-dong! Sex! Of course I’ll make him better – I’ve been dying to leave this stupid party before we even arrived. I’ll ignore the fact I want sex right now because of a wee frisson and some crackling chemistry with a certain Mr Murphy-Lee, and that I wish that... no, no.
Stop this madness!

‘Of course.
’ I shoot an apologetic look at Calvin and experience
another
wave of lust in return. Surely it must be obvious to everyone that I am currently displaying some serious hots for
Calvin
?

‘Enjoy the rest of
your evening,’ I croak. I really could do with that drink Theo was supposed to fetch me – I wonder where he’s been.

‘Thanks
,’ Calvin answers, with a wink that really doesn’t ease my guilt. ‘Feel better, old chap.’ He says this to Theo, but Theo has already grabbed my hand and is pulling me towards the lift.

As we make our way
out of the Carmichael, I get the strangest feeling our exit is being watched. As we get to the lift, I glance around. Calvin is watching us but, strangely enough, so is Tiggy. She has the oddest expression on her face. What is going on here?

‘Theo?’ I start to ask, but he pushes me into the lift and starts roughly kissing me, causing all thoughts of Tiggy and Calvin to swirl out of my head as his tongue swirls in my mouth
and his hand goes up my dress...