by D Latham
I had no lunch meeting planned, so at twelve, I went to see if Priti wanted to join me for a sandwich. We headed down to her favourite cafe, waving at Giuseppe as we walked past the salon. "Who's that?" She asked.
"He did my hair Saturday for a ball. Put it up in a sort of chignon. Did an amazing job, so I think I'm gonna make him my regular hairdresser."
"I might give him a try. I saw your hair on the Citigossip website. You looked amazing......." Priti paused, "and so did Ivan. You realise I need to know every detail."
"I'm not spilling every detail, some details can't be shared you know. Call it client confidentiality."
She snorted with laughter. "There are certain details you're compelled to share, and I don't mean anything about his legal affairs."
"I know exactly what you're on about, and I suggest you keep dreaming. I didn't realise there would be pictures online. There were photographers there, but there were quite a few famous people attending, so I didn't think they'd be interested in me."
"I saw loads of pictures," said Priti, "and people asking who the lady in red was. Ivan's quite the celeb in business circles."
"Hopefully they won't find out who I am, and move on to someone more interesting." We chose our lunches and sat down. I told her about Oscar's date, the insult, and the actor I had been seated next to, who was a favourite of hers. By the time we had finished lunch, Priti had enough of a gossip fix to stop her asking tricky questions about Ivan. It also stopped me having to tell her about mum.
I walked back into my office to find a beautiful arrangement of calla lilies. I opened the card, and read a sweet message of condolence from Oscar. I pulled my mobile out of my bag, and sent a text thanking him. I decided to keep the flowers in the office as they looked rather stylish, and took a little of the bareness away.
The afternoon seemed a little quiet. I suspected that Lewis had asked my colleagues not to lumber me with too much work, or bother me with lots of calls. I didn't even have any client meetings until the next day, when I was accompanying the publisher to her negotiations. As I had no idea what type of contract she would need, I couldn't even do any preparation. For the first time since I'd worked at Pearson Hardwick, I was kicking my heels. I went to see Lewis to find out if there was anything I could help with. He shook his head and waved me out, telling me to take the afternoon off. Normally I would have bitten his hand off, but I didn't want to go home and sit in an empty flat. I called Ivan to see what he was up to.
"Hi baby, you ok?" Ivan asked when he picked up.
"Yeah, I'm ok. Bit bored, have you got anything for me?"
"Not today, no. Listen, I'm a bit tied up right now, can I call you back later?"
"Of course. Speak to you later."
Ivan cut the call, without saying goodbye grrr.
Chapter 6
In the absence of anything meaningful to do, I did what every self respecting girl-about-town would do, I went shopping. I didn't really look at clothes, as I had plenty to be going on with, but I treated myself to some new makeup, new lingerie, and some expensive face cream. I spent a nice hour perusing the perfume counter in Jo Malone, where I decided I liked Black Pomegranate, and visited hotel chocolat to try and acquire a taste for poncey chocolate.
I ended up in Waterstones, where I scanned the self help books, trying to find one on dealing with guilt, and low self esteem. I was flicking through one, when I was interrupted by a voice whispering behind me. "Have you found what you're looking for?"
I spun round, and came face to face with Paul Lassiter. "You made me jump," I gasped, "creeping up on me like that."
"You were in a world of your own," he said, taking the book out of my hands and reading the title. He frowned, "raise your own self esteem? Why are you looking at this?" I snatched back the book, and replaced it on the shelf.
"Just looking," I replied, "what are you in here for?"
"The new Jeffrey Archer. I'm a big fan."
"Oh, is it out? I love his books. I read the first two in the trilogy. I might get it as well, it'll give me something to do tonight." Losing myself in a good book wasn't a bad idea.
"Not seeing Ivan tonight?" Paul asked. He seemed to have a distinctly non-predatory way about him, unlike the two men I'd been dealing with recently.
"Don't think so. He was busy earlier." We found the stack of Jeffrey Archer's latest novel, and both headed to the checkout.
"Would you like a coffee, we can discuss our favourite books," he said, giving me his boyish smile.
"Ok, won't be a minute," I said, before paying at the checkout. He waited for me, then led me over to the costa at the back of the shop, finding two comfy sofas for us. I sat down with all my bags, while he got our coffees.
I watched him at the counter, noting that his suit wasn't bespoke, and his shoes weren't handmade. Somehow it made him more approachable and human, a trait I couldn't attribute to either Ivan or Oscar, both of whom took immaculate dressing to new heights.
He placed a large mug of latte on the low table in front of me, and sat down on the sofa opposite. There weren't many people in the cafe, so I didn't feel guilty about hogging the two sofas.
"Who were you there with on Saturday? I don't think I was introduced to your girlfriend," I said, blowing the steam off my coffee.
"I took my sister, only she ditched me at the first opportunity to chat up some rugby player," he replied, pulling a face. "You looked nice, although I couldn't help but notice that you didn't look too happy." Nice? Don't strain yourself with the compliments Paul.
"Oscar's date was a bit snippy with me. I gather she was Ivan's ex."
"And didn't take kindly to both men falling at your feet?"
"They're not falling at anyone's feet. Ivan took me as a colleague, he thought it would be a great networking opportunity for me, which it was."
"Ivan kept his arm clamped round your waist the whole time, and Golding was practically prostrate at your feet. Couldn't take his sad little eyes off you. Everyone saw it. I thought it was quite funny, although I did think Ivan was gonna punch me when I kissed your hand."
I laughed, "I doubt it, although I wouldn't put it past his bodyguards, they seem to be as possessive as Ivan."
"You're a real conundrum Elle. I can't work you out at all. For someone so self contained and cool, some bitch who's one step up from a hooker managed to rattle you at that ball. You were on the arm of a wealthy, handsome man, yet you looked really uncomfortable.... Am I wrong?"
"I'm not uncomfortable with Ivan at all, I was rattled by the snide comments she made, that was all. She just pressed the right buttons."
"You looked slightly awkward. I know he calls you his girlfriend, but your body language said different."
"Are you an expert in body language?" I was genuinely interested. Paul was proving to be a rather perceptive man.
"Yes. I studied the subject a lot. I have to be able to read people quickly. I am a headhunter by trade you know."
"Ok Paul, how did you read the situation on Saturday?" He looked thoughtful for a moment, as if he was measuring his words.
"This is between the two of us?" I nodded. "I think Oscar is in love with you, but is too emotionally stunted to know how to handle it, and I think Ivan wishes to possess you, in the same way that he wants to own the world. He views you as a grand prize, knowing that Oscar, who has the one thing that Ivan cannot have, which is breeding, views you as his perfect woman."
"I see. That's rather a low view of Ivan isn't it? He actually made a play for me around the same time I began seeing Oscar. Personally I can't see why either of them find me so fascinating. I'm very ordinary, and both of them could do better."
Paul smiled, "and now I know why you were looking at that book. It makes sense now. It also tells me why you looked so uncomfortable over that woman's comments."
"Do tell," I said, keeping my face impassive. Who does he think he is?
"Did she make a comment about Ivan buying you your outfit?" Ok, so you'r
e good at this.
"Yes, that came into it."
"And it made you uncomfortable because you're a clever, independent woman, who earns like a man in your world?" I nodded, not wanting to speak. I didn't want to confirm or deny his assessment. "In their world, you're just a nice girl to be looked after, treated to pretty things, and taken care of. Yet you didn't struggle through years of law school to be no different from a pretty airhead did you? It rubs against your grain, diminishes your achievements, so consciously or subconsciously, you find it a problem."
"All very perceptive Paul. So what's your ulterior motive?'
"Me? I just think you've got a cracking pair of tits, but I'm a simple man with simple tastes."
I laughed, "I suppose at least you're honest, but quite frankly Paul, despite your detailed analysis, I have to work for all three of you, so it has to be professional all the way. Now, changing the subject, can you recommend any good books on reading too much into people's body language?"
Paul laughed, "I certainly can. I think I've read every book that exists on the subject. I can email you the Amazon links if you like. Some of the better ones are too obscure for a bookshop."
"That would be great thanks. By the way, I should have the new company numbers, and Articles of Associations for your new companies by the end of the week. You can begin trading under them right away, but I'd recommend you wait till your new bank accounts and insurance details are changed over first."
"That's fantastic news. Should save me a few quid in tax. I already sorted the new accounts with Goldings, so I can change my indemnities to Monday, and begin. You never know Elle, cut my tax bill enough, and I too might be able to afford an expensive girlfriend."
I frowned, "I'm sure you're not short of thruppence. Can I ask though, why did you take your sister on Saturday, and not a date?"
He smiled, "oh I don't date, not in the traditional sense anyway."
"Really? Why's that?"
"I hate the superficiality of the dating thing. I can't bear a whole evening spent with a dozy airhead who wants to discuss Brangelina and shopping, so I don't do it. I prefer to be alone." Weirdo alert.
"That's interesting, anyway Paul, thanks for the coffee. I'm going to head home and make a start on Jeffrey." I stood and gathered my bags.
"Yes, me too. Well it's been lovely to see you again, and I'll email you about the books." He kissed my cheek, and I headed out. It had been a strange conversation, and I was a touch unnerved by it. On the surface, he had pleaded almost poverty, yet I knew he was extremely wealthy, and the whole 'not dating' thing was really weird. As I perused the ready meals in the deli, I wondered if he was one of those odd dominants like the one portrayed in fifty shades. Either way, I would be keeping my distance.
I lugged all my bags home, mildly disappointed that Roger obviously hadn't been on phone tracking duties that afternoon. Back at the flat, I unpacked everything, adding my new lingerie to the now slightly fuller closet, and made a nice coffee to go with my novel. At least it had taken my mind off events for a few hours, although I had the whole evening to get through without becoming maudlin yet.
I had barely read the first chapter when my phone rang with an unknown number. I answered it, expecting it to be the police or coroner. "Hello Elle, hope you don't mind me calling," said Lady Golding, "but Oscar told me about your poor mother. I just wanted to offer my condolences."
"That's very kind of you Lady Golding, thank you. Oscar did send some lovely flowers."
"Good. I also heard that his dreadful date on Saturday night insulted you. Some of these girls just have no manners at all."
"I agree, mind you, with the events of Sunday, I really have forgotten all about it. None of it seems so important now. By the way, how's Mrs Smith?"
"I haven't really spoken to her much. She's been disgraced by the whole sorry saga. Her husband left her as well. I gather she was stealing the money for her lover, not herself as such, so her husband found out about her affair, although she claimed it had ended years ago."
"That's rather curious isn't it? That she would steal money for someone she had a fling with years back. Why would anyone do that?"
Lady Golding sighed, "I think she still held a torch for him, hoped he'd return to her. She was just a silly old woman really. She refuses to tell anyone how much she took though."
"It was a hell of a lot, Lady Golding. Nearly bankrupted the factory. That factory is a big employer in the area, a lot of family breadwinners depend on it. If people knew how close they took it to closure, well, she wouldn't be popular."
"Dreadful business. It was jolly lucky you stepped in when you did, is all I can say. Did Oscar tell you that the church newsletter went down a storm? Lots of people have commented on how wonderful it was. Oscar has suggested that I go on a computer course to learn how to do it the way that you did."
"Sounds like a great idea. Personally, I think you should write a book about Conniscliffe's previous occupants. You tell such brilliant stories about them. I'd read it. If you didn't want to type it all, you could always get an assistant. That's what Dame Barbara Cartland used to do. She just dictated her stories, and the assistant typed them up."
"Really? What a nice idea. I think I'll put that to Oscar. It's been lovely to speak to you again Elle, and once again, I'm sorry about your bad news."
"Thank you, and thanks for calling." We said our goodbyes, and ended the call. I had just got back into my book when it rang again. "Hi Ivan."
"Hi baby, you home from work yet?"
"Yes. I had nothing much on this afternoon, so Lewis sent me home. I went shopping instead."
"Without me?"
"Yes," I replied, as if talking to a child, "I only bought a book, some makeup, perfume, that type of thing. I'm perfectly capable of shopping alone you know. Anyway, you were busy."
"I would have sent Roger over with a credit card." He sounded sulky.
"Don't be silly, I don't need that, I didn't buy that much, and besides, I just got paid." I didn't have to send money to my mum anymore either, but I kept quiet about that.
"I like treating you. I want you to have the best of everything. I don't know why you are so resistant to that."
I thought about my conversation with Paul. "I appreciate the things you give me, but I also appreciate the things I work hard for. Allow me to have that, please."
"Hmm. So what are you up to tonight? Would you like to go out to dinner?"
I thought about the tragic little lasagne in the fridge, waiting to be heated up, and replied, "that sounds lovely. Where shall we go?"
"Why don't you call your new concierge service that I bought for you today, and get them to book somewhere nice? I emailed you the details. I'll pick you up at half seven. Is that ok?"
I opened my laptop, and found the email. "Ivan, that's brilliant. I'll give them a call. See you in a bit."
Quintessentially yours proved to be extremely knowledgeable regarding restaurants, and quickly booked me a table at Quaglinos, before emailing me a confirmation and directions. How useful is that? I quickly showered, and pulled on my new black lace bra and thong set, before choosing one of my new dresses to wear.
Thankfully, my legs were still brown from my application of St Tropez on Saturday, so I didn't have to bother with tights. I looked in the mirror to check my appearance. I looked expensively stylish in the dress, but still sad around the eyes. I added a touch more mascara, and grabbed my handbag as the buzzer sounded to let me know that the car was downstairs.
Quaglinos was delightful. Ivan was pleased that his security could be seated at the huge bar, just a few steps away, and we both loved the food. He told me about his day, which had sounded quite tedious, concerned mainly with admin details and staffing issues, and I told him about my shopping trip. I decided it was best to tell him I bumped into Paul Lassiter, as I had nothing to hide, and Paul was a client.
"He took his sister Saturday night. Said he doesn't date, which is odd isn't it?"
"Are you sure? He doesn't look it, or sound it. His office is very basic too."
"Yes, I'm sure. I think he just doesn't like to spend it. Did he make a move on you?"
"No," I shook my head, "he's friendly, but not overly enamoured I don't think. I got the impression that he has issues with women, although I'm not sure why."
"You think he's gay?"
"No, not gay, just, oh I don't know, like one of those men who likes to have contractual sex relationships only. That sort of thing. Don't worry, he didn't proposition me."
Ivan laughed, "I'm sure he values his testicles too much to ask you to become his sex slave. I, on the other hand, am a reckless man, with a security team two steps away." He smiled his dazzling smile at me, which made me laugh.
"You want me to be your sex slave?"
"It would fulfil every adolescent sex fantasy I ever wanked to. So yes, I would dearly love to make you my slave."
"I'd have to see the job description first," I flirted.
"It would involve taking every bit of pleasure I could possibly throw at you, orgasming frequently, and allowing me carte Blanche to fuck you in every way known to man." Ivan was using his phone sex voice. My belly squeezed. "I would begin with a quick fuck in the car on the way home, then I'd tie you to my sex swing, and fuck you nonstop for three orgasms."
"Get the bill." I replied, feeling hot and flustered. Ivan gestured to the waiter to bring the bill.
"Go to the ladies, and take your knickers off. Put them in your handbag, and come out with your pussy bare," he purred, "I'll meet you back here." I did as he asked, tucking the tiny triangle of lace into my bag. I rejoined him at the table.