Gold Digger

Lottie

I squeezed Vicky’s wrist lightly. When she turned to me, I gave my head a very subtle shake. She tilted hers to the side with a small frown, but her mouth snapped shut. Then she turned back to the men in our circle and smiled. They all looked a bit startled for a moment at the abrupt change from Vicky’s tirade of information on the financial markets to that smile. We were going to have to work on her transitions a bit more. But at least she’d stopped just in time. She’d lost most of these guys right around the time she started on the economic principle of comparative advantage in trade. But their expressions weren’t glazed now. Nowhere near. Vicky’s smile, even this fake smile, could bring entire rooms to a standstill. She was simply that beautiful.

I was glad we managed to get her out tonight to be honest. Something was wrong with Vicky and none of us could work it out. Ever since I’d known her she would occasionally go into herself. There didn’t seem to be an obvious trigger. Once it was after a phone call she’d had in the office. I’d asked her about it when she went abnormally quiet for the next few hours, but she’d just shrugged and told me it was her mother on the phone. When I’d gone on to ask if everything was okay with her mother, she said it was “fine”. That had been a lie. I’d been surprised to be honest – Vicky very rarely lied. Ollie said she could occasionally withdraw. The last time it happened was over a year ago. Nobody saw her for nearly a week. Ollie had been distracted by work at the time and never got to the bottom of what happened.

Then a couple of weeks ago Ollie and I had gone to her house after she went AWOL for twenty-four hours, not even calling into work to let them know she wasn’t coming in which was so out of character to be alarming. Ollie used his key when she didn’t answer the door. We found her underneath a coffee table which for some reason was in the middle of her hallway. Ollie had to physically lift her out from under it and over to the sofa. She was almost completely unresponsive – just staring off into space. No tears but so much pain behind her eyes it was scary. She’d only started crying when Ollie picked her up and hugged her on his lap. I’d picked up Hayley from school and brought her back to Vicky’s house. The three of us stayed with her that night and Hayley’s presence seemed to gradually bring her back from wherever she went. She’d recovered since, but she still wasn’t herself, and she absolutely refused to tell us what the trigger was.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” she said in that self-effacing tone we’d practised – Vicky was not self-effacing at all, so that had been a real struggle for her. She really didn’t understand the point of it. But I had to explain that if she wanted people on her side, it was one of the tools that needed to be in her arsenal. “I tend to get carried away with economics.”

“Money is Vicky’s jam,” I added with my own smile. I heard a snort from the side. My eyes flicked over to see Mike next to his sister, and I blinked in surprise. I don’t think I’d ever seen Mike in anything other than t-shirts, overalls and flannel shirts. Yet here he was in a DJ, his beard under control for once. Rough Mike was attractive, but I could never really see Vicky’s outright obsession. But this Mike, Fraggle Rock, he was hot. However, he didn’t seem too happy in his new get-up. He was pulling at his collar and shifting in his shiny, Italian leather shoes. I knew the Hardings had asked him to come tonight, but Mike was normally consistent in turning down this type of invite.

“Well, I can attest to that,” one of the investors said with a smile and an adoring look in Vicky’s direction. “The investments you’ve managed for us have doubled in the last quarter.” A couple of the other suits in the circle perked up at that and I smiled. This was perfect. This fundraiser was the ideal environment to plant the seed with Mr Harrington that Vicky was the right choice when it came to his fund. All Vicky had to do was…

“You’re wearing a suit,” Vicky blurted out, staring at Mike with that focused expression which seemed to be reserved for universal income, hedgehogs and Michael Mayweather. I looked up at the ceiling, seeking patience. Not now, Vicky.

Mike’s eyebrows went up. “Er… well, yeah. It’s kind of required,” he said in his gruff voice.

“You never wear suits.”

Everyone around us was beginning to look more and more confused. All Vicky’s attention was on Mike now as if none of the others were even there. I reached to subtly squeeze her wrist, but she didn’t even acknowledge me. Vicky in hyper-focused mode was not distractable.

“I prefer you in your normal clothes,” she said, frowning across at him. “In particular, I like the thermal shirt you wear that has a small rip in the left sleeve.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mike muttered, and I didn’t think it was possible but the man actually blushed under his beard. Everyone else was listening to the exchange with open mouths. I knew for a fact that over half the men at this function had propositioned Vicky at one time or another. Most of the time she didn’t even realise they were doing it; she’d certainly never shown any level of interest in any man. Her reputation as an untouchable ice princess was legendary.

“Who is this guy?” I heard the investor from earlier, who’d made no secret of his interest in Vicky, whisper to his colleague.

“Vics,” I said in a low voice, trying to draw her out of her fixation. “We need to keep an eye on the time, yeah? Gentleman, ladies, excuse us for a second.” I pulled on Vicky’s arm. For a moment, I thought she was going to ignore me and carry on staring at Mike. “Victoria,” I snapped, and she blinked before turning to me. “We need to go .” She nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief as we made our excuses and left the circle.

“I was doing it again, wasn’t I?” Vicky asked in a dejected tone. I winced as I turned us towards the exit. There was a good thirty minutes until the fireworks, but I didn’t want to be caught out. We had to leave before the display started. Ollie had been vehemently opposed to Vicky even coming tonight. He knew what could happen. He’d confronted me about it yesterday.

“Lottie, I know Vics has come a long way, but she still shouldn’t be going to the gala. I can’t look after her – I’ve got to give the speech straight after the fireworks. She has to leave before then, and she loses track of time, you know she does.”

“Trust me, I know Vicky,” I said through a smile. “And I think it’ll be good for her after what happened last month.”

He shook his head. “You’ve never seen one of her meltdowns. Last month was nothing in comparison. If it happens at the fundraiser, then I don’t know what?—”

“ Trust me . I’ve got it. She wants to go.” He hadn’t been happy about it, but I’d kissed him, effectively cutting off his argument as I started unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ve never let Vicky down before. I won’t do it now,” I muttered against his mouth as my hands slid into his shirt. He groaned, backing me up to the bed.

“You have a very effective way of winning an argument, Miss Forest,” he muttered against my neck as his weight settled on mine. That was the last objection he’d officially lodged, but it was clear tonight that he still wasn’t happy, despite my repeated assurances on the way here.

Once Vicky and I were around the corner in the corridor leading to the toilets, I turned to her and gave her hand a quick squeeze (Vicky couldn’t bear to have her hand held for any length of time, but a brief squeeze with the right amount of pressure was okay). “It’s okay, hun,” I said in a soft voice.

“It’s not okay,” she snapped, as her hands bunched into fists at her sides. “I’m never going to convince him to sleep with me if he thinks I’m defective.”

I frowned. “Vicky, you’re not defective.”This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

She stared at me. “Yes, I am. I’m defective and weird.”

“Who wants to be normal?” I said with a smile, trying to coax her out of this mood. “Normal is blooming boring. I’d rather hang out with your weird butt any day.” I linked arms with her and propelled us to the ladies.

“Why are we going to the toilets?” she asked.

“It’s what women do to catch their breath,” I explained, and Vicky wrinkled her nose.

“Sometimes I think that the whole world is weird and I’m the only normal one.”

I snorted a laugh as we pushed through into the cavernous bathroom. I moved to the mirrors whilst Vicky headed to the toilet.

“You’re not even going to try and use the opportunity to empty your bladder?” she asked, completely incredulous and I laughed as she disappeared. Just as the door to her stall closed another opened and Claire walked out.

“Hey,” she said as she came to stand next to me at the mirror. “I thought I could hear you guys.” Our reflections locked eyes, and she gave me a tight smile. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her shoulders were so tense they were almost up around her ears.

“Hi, love,” I said gently as I pulled out my lipstick, more for something to do than anything. Glancing at her again I lowered my voice. “Claire, are you okay?”

“Of course,” she said, her obvious attempt at a bright tone falling flat and the strain around her eyes increasing. I abandoned the lipstick and turned to her fully. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m here,” I said quickly, aware that Vicky would be out any minute and Claire would clam up completely. She looked away from me but not before I saw the tears in her eyes that she quickly blinked away. I laid my hand over her arm. “If Blake is?—”

“Listen,” she snapped, “why don’t you pay attention to your own situation and keep your nose out of mine.” I pulled my hand off her arm and took a rapid step away. “I know what you told Ollie. Your interference was totally unhelpful.” Her hand fluttered up to the side of her face in an unconscious movement, and that’s when I saw it. She’d done a great job with her make-up, you could barely tell, but in the harsh light of the bathroom I could see the darkened area from her left temple down to her cheekbone.

“Oh, Claire,” I said, my voice rough with emotion and concern. “Honey, what did he do?”

“Stop it,” she hissed just as Vicky was coming out of the stall. “Leave me alone.”

“Claire?” Vicky asked with a perplexed expression. “Why have you got a bruise on your cheek?”

Vicky might not have been able to read people’s body language, but she catalogued everything about physical appearance in great detail. Claire looked between me and Vicky with a hunted expression, then tore out of the bathroom.

I turned to Vicky and put my hand on her arm. She was looking after Claire with a frown. “Vics, we need to go really soon. Why don’t you find Ollie and let him know, and I’ll go after Claire.” Vicky looked at me for a moment, then gave a sharp nod. She clearly wanted to ask me more about Claire, but she trusted me to sort it out. When we left the bathroom, Vicky disappeared into the crowd towards the bar where Ollie was earlier. It took me a moment to spot Claire across the room, but as I started towards her, I was hauled back by someone grabbing my elbow. It was so jarring that my head snapped back, and I nearly lost my balance on my high heels.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Blake slurred in my ear, and I gagged from the stench of his alcohol-infused breath.

“Get off me, Blake,” I said in a low, furious tone. I jerked my arm to dislodge his hand, but he hung on and tightened his grip so hard that I winced.

“Your magical snatch may have my brother-in-law fooled, but I know you’re just some fucking townie with a chip on her shoulder.”

“Blake,” I said slowly as I turned to him and met his red-rimmed gaze with my steady one. “Get the fuck off my arm or you’ll find out exactly what kind of townie I really am. You might scare your wife, but I’ve dealt with way worse pieces of shit than you in my life. I promise you, you don’t want to dance this dance with me.”

Blake made a big mistake then – he held on.