Santa Baby (23 page)

Jez glared at her and was about to interrogate her further when there was a knock at the door and Sean came in. What perfect timing! Not! Tiffany pretended to be checking through the show’s running order. She hadn’t seen him since the party and even though the prospect of a date with Raul was intriguing, the man she had mainly been thinking about was Sean … damn him.

‘Ah, you can give us the straight male perspective on the question,’ Jez declared gleefully, while Tiffany wanted to put her hands over her ears. This was so embarrassing!

‘Sex on a first date or not? I think no, Tiffany won’t say, so what about you, Sean?’

Tiffany couldn’t stop herself from glancing up at Sean, who was in a black shirt and black jeans today. His dress sense seemed to have improved lately. She wondered if he had a new girlfriend giving him some tips.

He shook his head. ‘I’m a gentleman, Jez, I would never kiss and tell.’

‘I’ll take that as a yes then,’ Jez said cheekily. He really never did give up.

Sean talked to Angel about security arrangements for
the
rest of the day while Tiffany pretended that she needed to get something from the dressing room next door. She didn’t think she was up to any more of Jez’s questions. By the time she returned, Sean had gone and it was time for Angel and herself to make their way to the studio.

Tiffany was feeling increasingly confident about being on TV. She had a really good on-screen working relationship with Angel and the two hosts of the morning show. In fact, she often forgot about the cameras, as it felt much more like a conversation between friends. And she absolutely adored the styling parts of the job. To be able to take a woman who was stuck in style rut, or worse a style disaster, and give them a new wardrobe which boosted their self-esteem felt like such a privilege. The salary she received didn’t hurt either. Tiffany had never earned so much money. It was probably a drop in the ocean compared to what other celebrity stylists made, but to her it represented a fortune. She actually had money in her bank account, had paid off her credit cards and overdraft, even had a savings account. It was a world away from the life she had led before she met Angel. She felt incredibly grateful for that.

‘Another great show, Tiff!’ Angel declared as the two of them packed up their things in the dressing room later. ‘D’you want a lift anywhere? Sean’s supposed to be driving me back to Sussex but I’m sure we can make a detour.’

Sit in the car with Sean after Jez’s sex question? No way! ‘I’ll get a taxi, thanks. I’m meeting Kara for lunch.’

‘And a bit of shopping? Maybe to buy the perfect date outfit?’ Angel teased her.

‘Maybe,’ Tiffany conceded, knowing that after lunch
she
was hotfooting it to French Connection with Kara, where she had her eye on a cute white prom dress. She reached for her jacket then paused. ‘I’m also going to write to Tanya.’

Angel stopped what she was doing. She looked shocked. ‘Why would you do that? I didn’t think you wanted anything to do with her?’

Tiffany had been meaning to talk to Angel about their mother for a while. Ever since she had first met Angel she had harboured a wish to see Tanya again, but somehow the timing had never seemed right. But today, when everything seemed to be going so well for her and she had so much to be grateful for, she wanted to open up to her sister.

‘I wanted to thank her for putting us in touch with each other.’

Angel frowned. ‘It’s the very least she could do, isn’t it? After totally failing to be a mother to us.’

‘Maybe it wasn’t all her fault,’ Tiffany suggested.

‘What? Someone forced her to abandon us and be a heroin addict? She chose drugs over her own babies. I don’t want anything to do with her. I vowed that after I met her. Please tell me you’re not going to give her any money? She’ll never stop asking you if you do, and you’ll only be funding her addiction.’

That was exactly what Tiffany was planning on doing. She was also going to suggest that Tanya went into rehab and was going to offer to help in whatever way she could. But it didn’t seem like a good idea to share this with Angel now.

‘I’m sorry, Angel, I didn’t mean to upset you. I suppose I feel so lucky, with everything that’s happened to me.’

Her sister shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t mean to snap. Talking about Tanya is always like opening a wound that I think has healed.’ She managed a smile.
‘You
must do whatever you think is right. It’s not up to me to tell you. Anyway, you must get going. Buy that outfit and enjoy your date!’

Tiffany didn’t feel that they had sufficiently discussed Tanya, but it seemed as if Angel thought the subject was closed. Her hard-line opinion of Tanya didn’t alter Tiffany’s own feeling that she wanted to do something for her mother, however small.

Tiffany paced her apartment, checking out her appearance in the many mirrors around the flat. The sleeveless white dress was a perfect fit. Nipped in at the waist with a short flared skirt, it showed off her figure but wasn’t at all slutty. She’d tied her hair back into a sleek ponytail – sophisticated, not Croydon face lift. She’d gone for dark eyes, with bronze eye shadow and lashings of mascara, and her favourite Mac lip-gloss in red. She completed the outfit with her prized Louboutins and a silver necklace with stars on it.

‘This is just a bit of fun,’ she told herself. ‘Nothing to stress about.’

Her doorbell rang, and checking the security screen she saw Raul. Wow! She had almost forgotten how stunning he was. He looked like a movie star, hands in his jacket pockets, with that air of confidence of someone who always got his own way.
We’ll have to see about that, Mr Garcia
, she thought to herself.

‘I’ll be right down,’ she told him, reaching for her bag.

Outside Raul was leaning against a silver Aston Martin convertible. Tiffany’s ex-boyfriend Billy had had an ancient Fiat Panda, which always smelled of Doritos. There wasn’t really any comparison. ‘Nice car,’ Tiffany commented, as Raul greeted her with a kiss on each cheek. ‘If you’re trying to impress me, it’s working.’

‘I promise you, this is just the beginning,’ he replied, holding the door open for her, his eyes doing the smouldering thing.

As she walked by him, he lightly touched her arm and said, ‘You look beautiful.’

And even though Tiffany had promised herself that she would be on high alert for any corny chat-up lines, ready to crush Raul with her sharp wit, she found herself murmuring, ‘Thank you.’ The combination of the gorgeous man and the luxury car was rather bewitching. She even managed to get into the car and sit down gracefully, as if she was quite used to getting in and out of motors that cost over a hundred thousand pounds.

Raul drove expertly and at some speed. Tiffany felt as if she was in a movie, driving through central London, with the wind blowing through her hair (thank God for the ponytail otherwise her hair would have ended up in a right state), the roar of the powerful engine, the handsome man beside her at the wheel. She was expecting him to pull up outside an expensive restaurant so it was a surprise when he turned into the multi-storey car park on Brewer Street in Soho.

‘I thought you’d have a valet parking your car,’ she commented as the barrier lifted.

‘I’m not too posh to park.’

‘Very funny. So where are we going?’

‘One of my favourite restaurants, I always come here when I’m in London.’

Raul held her hand as they walked through Soho and ended up on Dean Street. Tiffany was aware of people staring at them, no doubt recognising Raul.

‘Is it strange, having people look at you all the time?’ she commented.

‘They’re staring at you because you’re so beautiful.’

OK, he was off. Tiffany swiped a punch at his arm.
‘Stop
it! I never know if you really mean what you’re saying, when you come out with things like that, or whether it’s all part of the Raul Garcia seduction technique.’

‘Of course I mean what I say to you! Always. I would never lie.’

‘Hmm.’ Tiffany didn’t believe a word.

‘So here we are.’ Raul stopped outside an intimate-looking restaurant. Again he had confounded her as she had expected somewhere incredibly posh, where she wouldn’t have had a clue what to do with her cutlery and would feel out of place. But this, although clearly a very good restaurant, wasn’t terrifyingly out of her league. The other diners, sitting at tables with snowy white cloths on them, all looked like normal working Londoners and not as if they had just stepped off a private jet. The maître d’ approached and showed them to a candlelit table. Raul ordered two glasses of champagne.

Tiffany looked around her. ‘I like it here,’ she commented.

Raul smiled at her. ‘I knew you would, I didn’t think you would be the kind of woman who was only interested in going somewhere because of its status. And you have to promise me that you will eat? I don’t think I can have another meal with a woman who doesn’t eat the food but pushes it around on her plate as if it is toxic.’

‘I’m bloody starving! I’ve only had half a tuna sandwich and a packet of Monster Munch, so there’s no chance of that!’ Tiffany took a wholemeal roll from the basket offered by the waiter.

Raul frowned. ‘Monster Munch?’

He really did move in different circles from her.

‘Oh, they’re sort of crisps. Bright orange, like fangs.’ She paused to slather butter on her bread. ‘I don’t
suppose
your supermodels or actresses would eat Monster Munch.’ She too had Googled Raul. He’d been out with two supermodels – one American, one Brazilian – and an actress. ‘So am I your bit of rough, guv’nor?’ She deliberately put on a cockney accent.

Raul frowned. ‘Of course not! How can you say that? Especially when you look so elegant.’ He leaned forward. ‘Yet very sexy in that dress.’ He paused. ‘You are different from my exes, though, and that is precisely why I like you.’

It could just be that Raul was after some novelty after his string of beautiful and no doubt high-maintenance girlfriends, Tiffany reflected over dinner – a very delicious grilled sea bream for her and roast duck for him. And was there anything wrong with that? Wasn’t she drawn to him precisely because he was so different from any other man she had known, and specifically different from Sean? Raul was witty, charming, very easy to talk to, and with those good looks … why shouldn’t she enjoy herself with him? She had a feeling that her heart wouldn’t be in any danger.

‘So do you want to have dessert here? Or we could go back to my house and have champagne and strawberries dipped in chocolate.’

That smouldering look again. It was definitely working on Tiffany. She was extremely tempted to go back, and it wasn’t for the offer of champagne or strawberries dipped in chocolate. Raul was so sexy … and the looks he had been giving her were weakening her resolve to make him wait …

‘I know this never happens to you, Raul, but actually tonight I need to go home alone. I have such an early start tomorrow,’ she forced herself to say and even managed to throw in a fake yawn.

‘Come over to my house for dinner on Thursday – I promise I’ll get you to bed early.’ A naughty grin.

Tiffany shook her head. ‘You really don’t give up, do you?’

‘Never,’ Raul replied. ‘Not when the stakes are so high.’

Half an hour later he pulled up outside her apartment.

‘Well, thank you for a lovely dinner,’ Tiffany said, unfastening her seat belt and facing him. ‘And next time I will pay.’ Raul had insisted on paying tonight, in spite of her request that they should split the bill.

‘It really was my pleasure,’ he replied.

‘So … goodnight.’ She leaned over, intending to go for a quick kiss. But Raul pulled her to him and kissed her deeply, a sensuous, suggestive kiss, which triggered a chain reaction of desire within her and many questions.
Did she really want the night to end now? So what if she slept with him after the first date? If he could kiss as well as this, everything else was bound to be good … It had been a long time since she’d slept with anyone, didn’t she deserve this? … Did she have any condoms?

But somehow, even though her body was saying yes, she held fast to her resolution. She broke off the kiss. ‘Goodnight, Raul.’

He raised an eyebrow as if to say, Really? After that kiss? Then sighed and said, ‘Thursday then. I’ll text you the address.’

THE FOLLOWING MORNING
Tiffany found herself slap bang in the middle of another media storm as the
Sun
ran pictures of her with Raul under the headline,
Angel’s Little Sister Gets in Pole Position!
Some pap had snatched a picture of her and Raul as they walked together through Soho. Kara saw the story first and phoned to tell her in a state of high excitement. ‘You’re a sleb in your own right now!’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s wicked!’

‘Pole position!’ Tiffany wailed. ‘That is
so
tacky. I’ve only been on one date with him, and I don’t want everyone knowing about my private life. It’s meant to be private!’

‘Just chill, it doesn’t matter. It’s a bit of fun,’ Kara told her, and then demanded a rundown of the previous night’s events. Tiffany cheered up as she recounted the details. She had enjoyed herself with Raul.

But it was no fun leaving the house and discovering a scrum of paps outside again. It was getting to be a familiar and unwelcome scenario. Tiffany reached for her sunglasses, put her head down and tried to march purposefully through the photographers towards the road. God! Where was a taxi when you needed one? A succession of unavailable black cabs sailed past her. And then a black Merc pulled up, the window lowered – this
really
was
déjà vu
– and Sean called out, ‘Need a lift?’

Tiffany didn’t need to be asked again.

‘Thanks,’ she said gratefully, slamming the door on the photographers who were still shouting out her name and pushing and shoving each other in their desperation to get a picture.

‘I saw the papers this morning and figured you might need a lift to work.’ Sean was in super-serious mode. ‘I thought Raul probably wouldn’t get up this early.’