‘What are you on about?’
‘Alberto’s a Manhattanite. And in Manhattan, men and women date several people at a time, not exclusively, until they decide they’re ready to date just one person seriously.’
Layla’s face fell. ‘You mean this is a casual thing for him? Not serious?’
‘I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?’
‘I can’t ask him that!’
‘Well, I would. After all, he’s one of the most gorgeous men on the planet.’
‘Oh shit. You’re not helping.’
‘There’s only one other problem.’
‘What?’
‘What the hell are you going to wear? When is this date happening?’
‘Thursday night. You think the red dress is too much?’
‘Way too much. The guy’s in shock as it is, let’s not push him over the edge just yet. Shopping. Tomorrow.’
The following evening, Layla was having another exciting night of telly and bed when Ellie tapped on her door. ‘Phone for you, lovey. It’s Mr Barolli.’
Ellie went off into the kitchen. Layla gave the luscious red box in the corner of her bedroom a gleeful glance as she hurried out to take his call – inside was the most stunning gown. Her and Precious had shopped for and bought it this afternoon. She’d tried it on three times since she’d got back to Ellie’s place.
‘That’s a hot date gown if ever I saw one,’ said Precious when Layla tried it on in the boutique.
And it was – a sheath of pure cream silk, bias-cut, that skimmed over her body as if made for it.
Grinning, she hurried along to the office, picked up the phone.
‘Hello?’ Her mouth was dry but she was smiling.
‘Hey, Layla,’ said Alberto. ‘I just wanted a word.’
It was eleven o’clock at night. Couldn’t this have waited until morning? ‘About what?’
‘This date thing.’
‘Oh yeah. That. Precious said I should ask you something about that.’
‘What?’
‘Is this a Manhattan date, or a London date?’
‘Layla…’
‘Hm?’
‘I don’t want to be dishonest with you.’
‘Well, that’s good.’ Her voice remained calm, but Layla was thinking what is this?
‘Things are happening. Things you don’t know about, things I can’t tell you.’
Layla stared at the phone.
‘Layla,’ he went on, ‘I wasn’t thinking straight yesterday. I can’t get involved with you right now. It wouldn’t be fair.’
Layla’s smile died on her lips.
‘Layla? You still there?’
She took a breath. ‘So this is a kiss-off, is that it? You’re giving me that old “It’s not you, it’s me” line. Is that right?’
‘No. Not at all.’
‘Oh come on.’ She felt as if he’d cut her heart out. Her laugh was brittle with pain. ‘You said you were going to be honest.’
‘I’m being honest, Layla. I can’t get into this. For your sake.’