Under The Covers

  • 24 days ago
  • 14 min read
  • 960 visitas

"You look amazing," says Tina, hands on her hips in skimpy leather hot pants that barely skim her butt cheeks. Only Tina could pull off something that TOWIE and still look classy.

I check myself out in the mirror, but the girl staring back at me in an embellished bodycon dress with smoky eyes and a massive blow-dry looks like a complete stranger. I never usually wear make up, this isn't my face and it's definitely not an outfit I'd pick out for myself. But that's the desired effect, I don't want to be Kate tonight. I want to step into somebody else's shoes.

We polish off two glasses of cava "for good luck" as Tina puts it, but we both know that it's really Dutch courage. Our car's ready and waiting outside which is lucky cause we're both underdressed for the late October chill.

There's a huge queue in front of the club but Tina tells the driver to pull up right by the entrance. As we step out of the car, an overbuilt bouncer unclips the rope to let us straight through with a wink. That's a good start, despite the fact that he gives me the creeps.

Tina orders us a couple of Jaeger bombs and flirts with a gorgeous, Brazilian barman. I'm too distracted to concentrate on what they're saying. My stomach's doing acrobatics as I scan the floor looking for him. A sharp elbow jabs into my waist. "There's your man," says Tina. "Three o'clock."

He's even better looking than I remembered. All chiseled jaw and carefully trimmed five o'clock shadow. He's picked up a healthy tan from his latest trip to LA and his muscles are rippling out of his rolled up sleeves. You're quite a looker Marc Burgess, I think.

"Come on, let's dance," says Tina, pulling me over to a miniscule space directly in front of his line of vision. We start writhing to the house music, not my cup of tea but then again, if I had it my way I'd be curled up on the sofa with an actual cup of tea watching X Factor right now, not in Mechu, a fancy club in Birmingham, in six inch heals that are already killing my feet.

We make a good show of being the pissed party girls and dance with a few of the guys that have circled around us. Tina looks like she's really enjoying herself but I have no patience for it, I keep steeling looks at him. Before long I feel his eyes on me and yes, a flicker of victory does spark up inside. One of his friends makes a beeline towards us and Tina quickly has him entranced, skinny arms wrapped around his neck. I want to get this done with and approach him first but we've been over this, it's important that he comes to me. You can tell that he's the sort of man who likes to get what he wants.

Tina winds herself around his mate and I'm dancing on my own for a minute when I feel a hand on my waist. I don't even have to look round to know that it's him and I surprise myself by feeling a surge of electricity crackle from the spot where he's touching me lightly.

"You're a great dancer," he says in gruff tones. "Champagne?"

I bat my lashes and pretend to hesitate. "Only if my friend can join us," I reply, glancing back at Tina.

"Of course," he says. "The more the merrier. Dan, come and have a drink, bring your lovely friend."

He takes my hand and walks me up the three steps to his booth where an ice bucket and a bottle of Laurent Perrier await. Three girls are already plastered across a couple of men on the velvet sofas, but they instinctively make space for Marc.

He pours out some glasses toasting, "The most beautiful women in the room." Inwardly I'm rolling my eyes, but I do my best to giggle and pretend to blush.

"Marc Burgess," he says offering me his hand. "What's your name?"

"Annabelle, but my friends call me Belle," I reply. Because I'm not Kate Jackson tonight. Tonight, I'm Annabelle Hunt, and I'm here to put this man behind bars.

"Inwardly I'm rolling my eyes, but I do my best to giggle and pretend to blush"

"My god he is so into you," says Tina from the toilet cubicle. "You've been talking for hours."

I reapply my lipstick and wait for a group of girls to stagger out.

"I can't get him to dance," I say, sampling the hand cream and avoiding her eye as she stares me out in the mirror. "He says he never dances. What's he doing spending four nights a week in this place if he doesn't dance?"

"Picking up hot girls like you!" she replies. "I don't mind my one, he's as thick as shit but I think he's quite cute. So… what's Marc like?" She whips me on the arm with one of the crisp, white hand towels. "Do you feel comfortable going through with this?"

"He's alright; he's actually quite intelligent," I reply.

"Kate, he's wanted for money laundering and five counts of fraud. They've taken him in seven times and still can't pin anything on him. We wouldn't be here if he wasn't intelligent."

"I know, I know, I meant interesting. I didn't expect him to be so interesting."

"Oh my god you're into him!"

A couple of girls walk in giggling and we both put our imaginary masks back on.

"Can't say I blame you Belle, he's a looker."

I'm not into him Ashley," I snarl.

"Yeah, yeah, come on, I want to dance," she says, pushing me out of the door, then muttering under her breath. "Look, if you get something out of it, it's all the same to me, as long as we get the job done."

Kate pulls his friend back to the dancefloor and I sit down next to Marc. He's talking to me intently about the house that he's designed; he's clearly passionate about architecture. It's going straight over my head because all I can think about is the feel of his leg resting against mine and his hand that keeps briefly stroking my arm, sending tingling sensations straight through me.

"That sounds incredible, you're lucky to have such a unique home." I'm searching for something to say to hide the fact that I've been tracing the line of defined muscles in his arms.

"Come and see it. Seriously, I want to show you, let's go now," he says. It's what I was hoping for, it's the re

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Written by fr1endisback
Cargado December 30, 2021
Notes Kate wants this man badly – just not for the reason he thinks…
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