‘Please, Sam, don’t get upset. I just want to keep my personal life private. It’s got nothing to do with anyone else. I don’t want the people who work for me to know I’m living with one of the bouncers.’
‘But why?’ he yelled. ‘What is it, Carly, are you embarrassed by me? Well, I tell you what, I’ll just fuck off out of your way then.’
He stormed off to his position at the door. I was dumbstruck. I’d never heard him raise his voice before, never mind swear at me in anger. He avoided me for the rest of the evening.
As G counted down the minutes to the arrival of Christmas Day, the club was in uproar. I fought my way through the bar to the door. I looked at Sam pleadingly, but he just turned away.
Over the speakers, Noddy Holder was screaming something about Merry Christmas and everybody having fun.
I begged to differ.
The rest of the night passed in a cloud of gloom. When we cleared out the crowd, I told the staff to help themselves to drinks. I’d promised them a party to make up for having to work over Christmas and there was no point in everyone being pissed off just because I was having a bad day.
I finished my paperwork and joined them. Zeek accosted me with a sprig of mistletoe. I kissed him on the cheek.
‘Is that all I get?’ he moaned.
I laughed and gave him a peck on the lips. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam get up and make for the exit. Shit, it was now or never. I grabbed the mistletoe from Zeek.
‘Hey, Sam,’ I shouted, just before he disappeared into the night. ‘I do believe you have to kiss a lady when she’s holding mistletoe.’
He turned slowly, as opposed to the thirty heads that swung like spectators at a tennis match, to see what was going on.
There was a sudden silence. You could have heard tinsel drop as Sam strolled over to me.
He kissed me on the cheek.
‘Is that all I get?’ I repeated Zeek’s moan.
Thirty heads were now looking at each other in astonishment.
I put my arms round his neck and snogged him.
‘But, Carly, what about the boyfriend?’ Zeek shouted, his chin so near the ground that his designer stubble was sanding the floorboards.
I grinned, still looking at Sam.
‘This is the boyfriend, Zeek. Always has been.’
‘Merry Christmas,’ I whispered in Sam’s ear.
He lifted me up and swung me round. The sound of stamping feet and a standing ovation filled the room.
‘Merry Christmas, babe,’ he replied.
So the secret was out. The whole world knew that we were shacked up, cohabiting, living in sin, as my gran would say. Sam won the hundred dollar bet among the doormen for getting past first base, but he was disqualified because he was already fraternising with me when the bet was made. I don’t think he minded. And yes, if the bosses at the hotel got wind of it, there would be questions, but the club was making more money than ever, so I was fairly sure I had some leverage.
The week between Christmas and New Year was quieter than usual, but at least it allowed us to catch our breath before the bedlam began again. It also allowed the staff to get the gossip out of their systems – our big story of the week was superseded by the rumour of a mass Christmas orgy at one of the regular customer’s houses.
On Hogmanay, we were full by ten thirty and the crowd was in great spirits. I couldn’t help comparing it with the same time two years before when I was at home and in Tiger Alley with the girls and Tom. I wondered what he was doing now, then pushed the thought from my mind. The way things ended with Tom would always be a regret, but I locked it back in its box. Tonight wasn’t the night for sadness or looking back, especially as I was facing down an irrepressible wave of homesickness.
I checked my watch. 11.50. I missed the people I loved. What was I doing in a room full of strangers on the most important night of the year? I’d give a year’s salary and chocolate for Callum, Michael and the girls to walk in now.
I looked around for Sam but couldn’t see him anywhere. Suddenly, the music stopped. Oh, fuck, don’t tell me we’ve got a blowout now. Not on New Year’s Eve.
The lights went up. G blared over the microphone. ‘Would Carly Cooper come to the dance floor, please.’
Was there a fight? Had somebody collapsed? Tonight was just getting better and better.
I rushed over, but there was no drama.
A spotlight focused on me. G spoke again.
‘Now, posse,’ he addressed the crowd, ‘we all know our fine manager here, don’t we?’
There was a roar from the crowd. I made a mental note to sack him.
‘Well, I’ve got a message here for her that I thought you all might like to share.’
Another roar from the crowd. Remind me to sack him twice. Another spotlight. But this time it was on Sam, holding a cordless mike and walking towards me. Oh, bugger, remind me to sack him too.
Realisation hit me and my stomach lurched. Don’t do this, Sam. Don’t, don’t, don’t.
He stopped in front of me and took my hand.
‘Cooper, I love you very much.’ He paused. There was a chorus of ‘Aaaaahs’ from the crowd and ‘Go, Sam’ from the bar staff. ‘Marry me.’
Complete silence. What could I say? I’d been ambushed. There were three hundred pairs of eyes on me, two of them bearing down into my soul.
A tear ran down my cheek. I don’t know if it was from embarrassment or terror. How could this be happening to me? Again! What
