Lying With The Ex

Chapter 4- Flying Solo

My dream should have been the warning, it should have made me email Roman and cancel on him. The businesswoman, the call-girl in me, was telling me to email him and cancel. However, I didn't.

I kept telling myself as I showered, as I had my morning coffee and as I checked my case again, that it wasn't a dream, it was simply a memory. What I dreamt of last night happened. Many, many moons ago I was with Roman and that was just my mind reminding me that I should be careful. Very careful.

It was raining as I entered the street and hailed down a black cab. This was a bad omen, my gut was telling me.

It was rush hour in London so my cab driver was vocal about the "fucking idiots" on the road. My stomach was churning as I could see Roman's hotel as we approached it. A doorman opened the door of the black cab as we pulled in front of the hotel, he had an umbrella above me as I got out thanking the driver.

The second doorman told me he would grab my extra-large suitcase as the main doorman took me up to the hotel.

"Thank you." I beamed at him as we reached the lobby of the hotel and he tipped the old fashioned doorman hat.

I ruffled my damp hair as I walked through the lobby. I spotted Roman straight away; he sat in one of the chairs, dressed impeccably reading the paper.

"Do you know," I approached him, his eyes catching mine as he looked up from his paper. "You can get the newspaper on phones and tablets saving trees."

"I'm glad you got here on time." He folded the newspaper and placed it on the table to the side of him and he stood up.

I forgot how tall he was, he towered over me when I was wearing flats like today. He was wearing a shirt, dress trousers and some smart shoes. I could properly look at him too. His dark eyes were wide and big, everything about him was well-groomed, he always was.

His angular, masculine features were hidden behind the 5 o'clock shadow on his face. It was neat and designer, very Roman. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, shaven where it needed to be, but thick.

"You read my reviews, Roman," I raised my eyebrow, "I am discreet, professional and punctual."

He laughed at my words. "I did and that is why I wanted a true professional."

I just laughed. I had to admit being Roman's presence was strange.

"Mr Archer, your car is ready for you." The manager of the hotel spoke.

"Thank you, Mason. Shall we head off?" He gestured to the door.

"You're the boss." I raised an eyebrow and he shook his head as he put his hand on my back to lead me out, two bell boys picking up my case and Roman's.

"Not yet, only when we land in New York." He reminded me of the contract as we reached the door and he took an umbrella from the holder.

"Well then, Roman," I pushed his hand from my back. "Then let's not pretend shall we."

I had to remember Roman was the enemy. He was my ex. I got into the expensive-looking black sedan car. The door closed behind me and Roman got in around the other side.

Driving off in silence I looked out the window at the rain falling. The journey wasn't long, the driver missed all the traffic I had come in. We never spoke, Roman and I. He fiddled with his phone and I watched the rain as it poured.

"Wait a second." The car drove onto the airfield, Roman chuckled beside me.

"Private plane, we get the VIP treatment." I rolled my eyes at his words as the people on the tarmac went to the boot to get our cases.