Chapter Seven
Kate
‘The American Bridget Jones
The future wife of property billionaire Jonathan Davenport has been publicly identified as hotel bar worker Kate Williams, after a brawl broke out over her affections in front of Haselini yesterday evening.
It was said the ruckus was caused by wealthy entrepreneur Evan Jackson, who was out on a date with Williams.
Official sources in DavenCorp have so far declined to comment, but the fight witnessed by both paparazzi and the general public was over before it started with one punch thrown.
Experts reckon that it wouldn’t have been long before Jonathan exploded, and people are asking just who is the completely average beauty that has stolen the hearts of two very wealthy and well documented playboys?’
I put the paper back down on the table and sighed, the photo they had of me was completely awful, but I’d been ready for it. I knew an article would be coming about where I stood in the fight.
I folded the other papers up and put the lid back over my breakfast tray. As I’d assumed, they’d all got the wrong end of the stick. Everyone had, including Jonathan.
I’d been portrayed as the ugly duckling making two rich men fight over me, and the idea that I’d been on a date with Evan was crazier than the idea that I would do it out in broad daylight when people already knew my face.
I switched on my cell and scrolled through to his number, hovering over it ready to call, but I decided not to. I needed him to make the first move. He had to be the one to say sorry to me. I’d done nothing wrong but accept an arm of comfort from someone who genuinely cared.
He’d punched his best friend and humiliated all three of us in public. I couldn’t just forgive him like that and let him think it was okay.
He knew the connection and bond we’d shared the night before and the way I’d opened up to him more than I had to anyone else in my life.
I didn’t want Evan and I didn’t just want anyone. I wanted him.
The sound of the door knocking broke me from my daydream and I got up and looked through the spy hole.
It was Evan’s assistant with a rack of clothes.
I opened the door and she burst through in a whirlwind of expensive perfume and court shoes.
“Kate, is it? Hiya, I’m Jules.”
She walked over to the curtains and pushed them open, taking a second to look out at the scenery.
“I just love this room,” she smiled, giving me the impression that she’d done this before. “Evan ordered a few outfits, but as he wasn’t sure what style you wanted or where you were going, I brought several.”
“Is he okay?” I asked, thinking about the punch he’d received.
She smiled and nodded.
“He’s a big guy, he’ll be fine. Just a touch of bruising, but he’ll live. He also told me to tell you good morning and that Jonathan called him today and booked you a spa treat.”
“Why didn’t he call me?” I felt the depressing feeling that things were going south quite quickly.
Jules shook her head.
“Listen honey, these men are in a class of their own. I wouldn’t try to decipher them. It’ll only drive you even more crazy.”
She gave me a lopsided, sympathetic smile and walked back towards the door, looking at her glistening jeweled watch. Evan obviously paid her well.
“What time does Evan’s meeting finish?” I asked.
She stopped and turned back towards me.
“The media storm you guys fired up isn’t going to disappear overnight, and Evan has a lot of meetings today. I suggest you lay low for a few hours and get yourself to the spa day. He’s arranged a car to pick you up and take you there, so when you’re ready the driver will be downstairs waiting.”
I followed her to the door, feeling as though a tornado had just swept through the suite.
“Oh, and one more thing!” she reached into her bag and pulled out a card. “Here’s my number and email if you need to get hold of Evan. Got to run! Enjoy the clothes and the spa! Bye!”
She hurried off down the corridor before I even had a chance to respond and I closed the door behind her, resting back against the solid wood.
Jonathan must have known he was out of line and the spa day he’d planned was most probably his way of apologizing to me, but I wanted more than that. I wanted him to explain to me in person what the hell had happened and, most importantly, where we went from there.