I know contacting her whilst I'm in the middle of the welcome party is risky, but I feel I have no choice, what with daring, handsome Alex spouting all kinds of nonsense about Bethany's past. My racing heart is still trying to return to normal after Alex's sensually addictive touch when she answers the phone.

'What are you talking about?' Bethany asks, her voice soft and melodic.

'Some guy named Alex is here,' I say, leaning back against the sink and biting my lip.

'Alex? Alexander?' she asks. 'Alexander Edwardson?'

'I don't know – I didn't hang around to ask,' I tell her. 'He was pretty handsy.' Not that I minded.

'Sounds like Alex,' she scoffs.

'I thought you hadn't seen anyone here since you were a kid?'

'I haven't,' she replies. 'But I've heard rumours. My parents tell me it all. He's a complete player.'

'Why am I not surprised?'

'I didn't account for his attendance. I'm sorry I didn't prepare you for an Alexander Edwardson appearance.' She tuts slightly, clearly frustrated with herself for letting something slip through the net. 'I think it's best if you stay away from him,' she advises. 'Chances are, he's only interested because you're back on the scene after so long.'

'Probably.'

'The most important thing is to fool everyone into assuming I'm at this place,' she adds. 'With a person like him around, it may cause unnecessary chaos.'

'Okay.' She's probably right.

'Is everything else okay?'

'Well...'

'What?' she presses, worry laced through her voice.

'He was apologising for the past,' I tell her. 'Do you think I should know what happened?'

Bethany stays silent for all of five seconds before she responds. 'I don't think so. It was something ridiculous that isn't worth mentioning. If you speak with him again, just say that you accept his so-called sorry and that he should leave the past in the past,' she tells me.

'Okay,' I answer, a little uncertain over her decision to keep me in the dark, but I guess everyone has secrets. 'How's Barbados?' I ask as I move to slouch onto the chaise lounge.

'I'm missing you,' she replies with a slight whine, and I smile.

'I miss you too.'

'As soon as this retreat is over, you're coming with me to the Maldives for two weeks,' she announces. I smile at the idea. 'I wish we could talk for longer, but you've got to get back out there, and I've got to dash. It's five o'clock here and someone is summoning me for dinner.'

'Bethany!' I almost squeal. 'Have you met a guy already?'

'Maybe.' She giggles. 'I'll talk to you in a few days?'

'Of course.'

'You've got this,' she assures me, and I smile, pulling the phone away from my ear and hanging up. I'm not surprised by her apparent date, Bethany never being one to hang around and contemplate anything. If she sees something she likes, she'll dive headfirst after it. It reminds me of the day she came up with this plan, her face lighting up like a kid spotting an ice-cream truck. She was bursting with excitement, having spent almost a fortnight moping around over the six-week retreat her parents insisted she attend due to their last-minute business in New York.

They'd never send their eldest daughter to London, Bethany told me. Katherine had made a poor name for herself back in the day, leaving her four-years-younger sister to pick up the pieces. Something Bethany clearly despised her for.

A sudden knock on the door shocks me back to reality, and I quickly stand, shoving the phone back into my glittery clutch bag. Stopping quickly in front of the mirror, I wipe away the slight smudging of dark make-up under my eyes before digging the Dior lip gloss out of my clutch and coating it on, covering the cracks that Bethany would never have.

With one final nod of encouragement to myself, I turn, smoothing the blue fabric of my dress, and unlock the door, smiling apologetically at the short, greying lady who's standing just outside, her arms crossed in clear annoyance. I look away from her before I lose my nerve, holding my head high like Bethany would want me to, strutting down the corridor and praying I don't trip. Come on, girl – you've got this.

Painting a fake smile on my face, I head towards the overindulgent ballroom, taking a deep, shuddery breath at the sound of music and numerous voices. If I can get through tonight, maybe I can complete the entire retreat.

I place my heels down one in front of the other, forcing myself forward into the room, swaying my hips the way Bethany taught me – the exact amount to show your wealth, yet not enough to come across as a complete attention seeker.

Passing by a couple of elegant older ladies, I shoot them a warm smile, gaining an approving nod before I fully immerse myself back into the extravagant ballroom where everyone is socialising.

It's the first night of the so-called retreat, a night Bethany warned me would be extremely busy. The elite will dip in and out as the weeks progress, but the start, middle and end are all relatively crowded.

Rich people of all ages swarm the room, decked from head to toe in clothes that cost more than my mum's apartment. Ladies rest their hands on top of each other's arms, every wrist twinkling with diamonds and rubies, their high-pitched laughter echoing around the hall. Men clutch at their champagne flutes as they nod between one another, polite as they listen to the dreary conversation around them. Their wrists all sport expensive-looking watches – Rolexes, most likely; maybe a Tag Heuer every now and again for originality.

It's like I'm at the freaking theatre, watching them all from afar, unsure how to communicate or dive in headfirst.

A few scattered people are on the dance floor, engaging in what looks like a ballroom dance, something a girl who grew up on the poor side of London wouldn't know.

'It's pretty boring, right?' A sudden feminine voice has me jumping out of my skin, and I turn to inspect the gorgeous blonde beside me. 'I hate these things,' she says, shrugging. 'Did your parents force you to come too?'

'Yeah,' I reply, and she grins.

'At least it isn't as long as the old London season,' she replies in a singsong way, and I furrow my eyebrow in confusion.

'Season?'

'You know, when everyone would come to London to find suitors for their daughters,' she replies, batting her false eyelashes before rolling her eyes. 'That was a whole summer. Just imagine? At least this is just a few events here and there.'

'Very true,' I tell her, and she giggles, reaching out as one of the waiters walks past, pulling two glasses of champagne off the tray.

'Here.' She attempts to hand me one, and I purse my lips, remembering how well my last drink went.

'Oh, no. I haven't eaten much,' I tell her, and she laughs again.

'Me neither – that's the fun part.' She grins and I give in, taking the glass from her. She takes a sip before I raise my own glass to my lips, unable to tear my gaze away from her. Her dark-brown eyes are captivating, her wavy hair just grazing her shoulders as she scans the room. 'Only an hour left,' she mutters.

'I can't wait,' I admit, and she grins again, holding her hand out to me.

'My name's Hal.'

'Hal?'

'Halle, but forget that,' she admits in a quiet voice. 'It's boring.'

'I like it.'

'Shut up,' she scoffs. 'Was it your mother who told you to be polite tonight?'

'Something like that.' I smirk, imagining Bethany's face as soon as the words left her mouth. 'I'm Beth.'

'It's nice to meet you, Beth.'

'Likewise,' I reply, feeling myself relax. I take another gulp from my glass and let my eyes move back around the room. I'm envious of everything, of the money these people had growing up. They want for nothing, their needs and desires forever sated. Not a single worry in their damn pretty heads.

Alex suddenly comes into view, and I instantly straighten, slightly on edge. He stands with two other guys and three girls, all of them laughing together as they drink from their flutes of liquid wealth. The black-haired girl beside him seems extremely keen on his words, sidling up closer to him every time he opens his mouth, resting her hand on his bicep – a little more obviously than when anyone else does it.

'Do you know him?' Hal asks, and I whirl round to face her, finding her staring wide-eyed across the room at the apparently popular idiot.

I shake my head. 'Not since we were kids,' I lie. 'Do you?'

'Kind of.' She shrugs. 'Our parents are friends.'

'Is it true what they say?' I ask, unable to stop thinking of Bethany's warning as I turn back to peer at him. He's laughing hysterically at something the girl's said, his entire head thrown back.

'About all the women?' Hal retorts. 'Can't you tell? Just look at him. I give it half an hour before he and Miss Chatty leave together.'

'Want to bet?' I grin, turning back to face her. She raises an eyebrow. 'Twenty minutes,' I counter.

'Deal.' She smiles, reaching out and shaking my hand. 'Loser owes the other breakfast tomorrow.'

'Sounds good,' I agree with a smile, turning around and taking a sip of my drink as Alex's face clouds over with a serious expression before he says something to his group of friends. It only takes a moment before they all laugh, his face relaxing once more.

I roll my eyes, gulping back another glug of alcohol. Of course, they have nothing to worry about; they are the rich kids, after all. Daddy will make everything better.

Without warning, Alex looks over, meeting my gaze and ultimately catching me staring. A flutter of anxious butterflies fill my stomach, and I clutch my glass tighter, completely trapped by his gorgeous eyes.

Alex smiles, a genuine grin that eliminates everyone else in the room, leaving only the two of us. He hasn't opened his mouth, not even spoken a word, yet I'm already in a bubble with him, cut off from the rest of the party as his eyes seek out mine, and only mine.

'Wow.' Hal's voice breaks me away from my fairy-tale world. 'You can see how he became a fuckboy. That smile was...' She trails off as I nod, tearing my eyes away from the one thing I should definitely not be letting get the better of me.

'How long do we have until this is over?' I ask and she grimaces, inspecting her expensive watch.

'Fifty-two minutes.'

Fan-freaking-tastic.

*~*~*

I giggle with Hal as we walk down the hotel corridor, arm in arm, both slightly tipsy, but both happy we're one night in. Only forty-one left. Think of the cash, imagine the money...

'Thanks for keeping me company tonight,' Hal says, smiling as she pulls away. 'It's always good to have an ally.'

'Likewise,' I tell her, and she grins before we agree on a time to meet for breakfast. The door shuts behind her as she enters her hotel room, leaving me out in the hallway. I smile to myself – Hal definitely made this night far easier to deal with. It makes it better knowing that others wish they weren't here.

Slowly, I turn away, taking a deep breath at the long white corridor. There are ornate tables every few metres, each one decorated with an exquisite vase of flowers, their fresh smell filling the entire space. I walk past them all, enjoying the scent, then pop open my clutch and start digging around for my room key.

I find it just as I turn the corner – and instantly collide with something tall and hard, stumbling back with a grunt.

'Whoa!' The familiar voice causes me to freeze as his hands wrap around my waist. 'Steady there.' Alex's eyes scan over me, an expression akin to worry laced through his features. 'It's you,' he says, smiling widely before making a move to step closer to me. He suddenly stops, instead reaching to gently caress my bare arm. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine, thank you,' I retort, attempting to push his hand away.

'We keep running into each other tonight,' he says softly, and I roll my eyes.

'I wish we didn't.'

'You barely know me,' he argues, and I shake my head at his words.

Taking a deep breath before glancing up into those enticing emerald eyes, I struggle to maintain my composure when they immediately lure me in, sparkling in the light.

'Alex?' a high-pitched voice calls from along the corridor, both of us turning as Miss Chatty sticks her head out of a door down the hall. 'Are you coming?'

I turn with a knowing smirk on my face as I study the lothario. 'I know enough.'

'Hey, that's not fair,' he counters, and I shrug, turning away.

'Life isn't fair,' I reply over my shoulder.