Graham spoke and pulled her out of the downward spiral. ‘I’m going to have the duck, I think.’ He topped up her wine. ‘You’re a slow drinker.’
‘I’m trying to pace myself. You don’t want me dancing on the table with my knickers on my head before they even serve the dessert.’
‘Don’t I?’ There it was again. Was he flirting? Did it matter?
Graham excused himself and went to the toilet. Kate gulped down some of her wine and looked around. Who was she trying to kid? If this man was planning on anything untoward there were a hundred women in this place alone who were more enticing than she was. Had she forgotten that she’d put on over two stone since having children, and that many nights of broken sleep had done nothing for the youthful glow of her skin? She needed to get over herself and enjoy tonight for what it was – dinner with someone who may turn out to be interesting company. He wasn’t trying to chat her up and she wasn’t cheating on Luke by being here. It was just dinner.
Graham appeared back at the table and Kate decided to kick her personality up into first gear.
‘Where’s the best place you’ve been to?’ This was hardly witty banter but at least she was trying.
The meal went pretty well after that. They chatted, drank, ate, drank, chatted some more, drank. The more wine she drank, the more she wanted. She didn’t feel drunk, just bubbly and funny. Oh yes, she felt incredibly funny.
And then they were dancing.
Whilst they were eating or drinking or talking, the mood in the restaurant had changed. There was only a tiny dance floor, in front of the bar, and when she’d arrived, she hadn’t recognised it as a dance floor at all. But now, here they were, dancing.
Kate had always loved dancing, but never got the chance to do it nowadays. She was too old to go to a nightclub. She’d tried with some friends a couple of years ago, but they’d all felt unbelievably sad in both senses of the word. Of course, there were nightclubs aimed at people their age but, in reality, over-thirties nightclubs were actually full of over-fifties and, much as they didn’t want to be out with people young enough to be their daughters, they didn’t want to spend the night with people who could be their mothers, either. And family parties weren’t the same any more, since the children. Luke, always on the lookout for an excuse not to go or to leave early, would start saying how tired the children looked as soon as they arrived. Kate couldn’t get up and dance for fear of what the children would get up to in the meantime – and having them on the dance floor was just a liability. Thomas was just at the right height to be knocked out as soon as someone started off the twirling and kicking of ‘Uptown Girl’.
Now, here she was, jiggling on the spot with a man she’d only met a few hours previously. Dancing with a man was, in itself, a surreal activity. She hadn’t managed to get Luke on the dance floor since their wedding. He wasn’t a bad dancer, but he seemed to consider dancing in public to be a form of torture. When they’d first been dating, he could be persuaded to join her for a couple of slow songs. Now they’d been married for nearly nine years, the ‘conversation’ consisted of her looking at him hopefully and him saying, ‘No.’
The combination of nervousness at finding herself dancing with a stranger and realising, now she was standing up, that she was indeed drunk, meant that her technique was more than a little off. She was doing the ‘mum dance’. Maybe it was due to having spent the first eighteen months of both children’s lives with them permanently on her hip. That awkward pose must have lasting consequences for your stance. And your dance stance.
Graham, on the other hand, seemed to be a pretty smooth mover. And that was when Kate began to mistrust his motives: a man who volunteered to dance that enthusiastically was probably either gay or looking to get laid.
Stupidly, she didn’t take this as her cue to leave.
Chapter Twenty
Laura
After the brightness of the early evening, the inside of the restaurant cruiser seemed dim. Laura had been expecting touristy plastic-ness, but the interior of the boat looked very much like an exclusive restaurant. They didn’t always eat somewhere so nice – had Shannon booked it to make them feel good before the meeting tomorrow? What did she know that they didn’t?
The hors d’oeuvres had been fantastic – even James wouldn't have found fault. He considered himself a bit of a gastronome these days: long gone were their student days of Beanfeast from a packet. That wasn’t the only thing that had changed – his dress sense had had a major overhaul, too. The girls in his office who looked so surprised at the two of them being an item, might not be so surprised if they'd seen the cardigan he was wearing when he’d first asked her out at a student night in the town nightclub.
Gabriella waved at Laura from across the room and pointed to the seat next to hers. Laura’s heart sank. She’d hoped to sit next to Shannon, but she was still at the entrance of the boat, chatting with the maître d’. It wasn’t that Laura didn’t like Gabriella, but she never felt entirely at ease around her. Was it because Gabriella was so tall and blonde and certain? And beautiful?
And where was Paolo? He was standing a short distance from the other end of the table, recounting something hilarious by the look on Henrik’s face. Shannon joined them, and Paolo made a grand show of taking her hand and bowing before her. Shannon pulled her hand away and gave him a playful shove. Gabriella caught the direction of Laura’s gaze.
‘Paolo is his usual self today, I see.’ Her icy tone confirmed that this wasn’t meant as a compliment.
Laura poured herself a glass of wine from the bottle on the table. The effects of her drinking with Kate earlier had worn off so she should be safe to drink some more. ‘What do you mean?’
Gabriella held out her own glass for a top-up and then swirled the wine around it with authority before bringing it to her nose. ‘Oh, you know, chatting to everyone, making sure that he is the centre of attention. Getting his ego massaged?’
His ego? Paolo? Laura sneaked another look. Paolo was flushed and animated and the guys around him were hanging on his every word. He wore a fresh linen shirt with the top button undone. The pale blue was bright against his tanned throat. His Adam’s apple moving in time to the gesticulation of his hands and… My God, she needed to stop thinking like this. She coughed. ‘He’s just telling a joke, I think.’
‘He’s good at that.’ Gabriella ran her finger around the rim of her glass. ‘I know that you two get on well, but just be careful with him.’
Gabriella knew that Laura wasn’t single, so what was with this rather patronising advice? ‘I don’t know what you mean. We’re just colleagues. I have a boyfriend, you know.’
Gabriella nodded, sipped her wine and then fixed her blue eyes on Laura. ‘That’s what I mean.’
Sylvie joined them and filled them in on what she’d gleaned from Shannon about the agenda for tomorrow. As she was talking, Laura glanced over at Paolo again and he looked up and winked. Still smiling and joking with those around him, he didn’t seem remotely affected by the conversation they’d had this afternoon. Laura had spent the two hours between returning to the hotel and going to dinner brewing on it. Was he right about James? Should she even have spoken to him about it? Why was her heart beating so quickly every time she thought about their conversation?
When she’d got back to the hotel earlier, in a desperate attempt to get some perspective, she’d called James from her room. Miraculously, he’d answered. ‘Hey you – how’s it going?’
There was something reassuring about just hearing his voice. ‘Fine. Fine. Can you talk?’
There was a lot of traffic noise in the background and the reception wasn’t great. ‘Er, well, I’m just in a cab at the moment so I have about ten minutes?’
She’d taken a deep breath, opened her mouth and then words which she had absolutely not planned to say came out of it. Maybe it was the wine. Or the chips. ‘James, I know I’ve talked about this a lot, but I need an answer. An honest answer. Are you ever goi
ng to want marriage and children? With me?’
‘What? Oh… crikey, Laura, you can’t seriously want to have this conversation over the telephone?’
A coldness had washed over her and made her voice a thousand times calmer than she felt. ‘On the phone, on the sun loungers at the beach, at home in bed. You never give me an answer. You’re too busy to talk about it or life is too hectic right now or we’re too young to be talking about this. It’s the same conversation, James, over and over and over and I don’t think I can keep having it.’ She knew she was being ridiculous. What kind of loon gives their boyfriend an ultimatum over the telephone? The probability of getting the answer she wanted was infinitesimally small. How many times did you have to throw the dice before you got a six? And what if you’d begun to suspect that you’d rather throw a three or a four? Or a seven?
Whatever James liked to say about her overactive imagination, there was definitely an irritated tone to his voice. ‘Laura, I don’t know what is going on over there, but this is just a little bit ridiculous. I love you, but this is not the way I want us to be. Look, I’m at my destination and I need to pay the cab driver. I can’t talk now, but we will talk about this, I promise. It’s all good, Lau, it’s all good. Take care.’
Now Gabriella was looking at her expectantly. What had she missed? ‘Sorry, I didn’t catch that, what did you say?’
‘I asked if you were trying to lip read.’ Gabriella nodded in Paolo’s direction.
Laura hadn’t even realised she was still staring at him. She hoped fervently he hadn’t noticed. ‘I wasn’t… I just…’
‘Ignore Gaby.’ Sylvie patted Laura’s hand. She was equally as stunning as Gabriella with her thick dark hair and olive skin, but didn’t wear her beauty in such a hostile way. ‘You do whatever you want to do, Laura.’
‘But I wasn’t… I mean, I’m not…’
Gabriella held up her hands. ‘I’m not the bad guy, here. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t get hurt.’
What was this with everyone suddenly having such a great regard for Laura’s welfare these days? She didn’t dare look at Paolo again, but was pretty sure he would be enjoying himself in the middle of the group at the other end of the table. How she wished she were down there with them, rather than here with the Voice of Doom.
Gabriella leaned forwards, conspiratorially. ‘Some of us have worked together a long time. We have seen the other side to people.’
‘Stop it, Gabriella.’ Sylvie finished her wine and pulled on her arm. ‘Come on, let’s go and dance before the food arrives. You too, Laura.’
Laura shook her head. ‘I’ll finish my drink first. Go on, I’ll see you up there.’
Doing her utmost to resist looking at Paolo, Laura stared out of the window of the boat. Outside, she could see the cathedral of Notre Dame slowly drifting past; she’d try and visit it before she went home. Before coming to Paris, she’d assumed that the Eiffel Tower would be the monument to see, but there was something about this melancholy cathedral which was surprisingly attractive. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Paolo sit down beside her until he spoke.
‘Beautiful.’ She jumped and turned to see his mock-innocent expression. ‘Notre Dame, I mean. It is beautiful.’
Feeling Gabriella’s eyes drilling into the back of her head, Laura shifted in her seat and tried to look disinterested. ‘Yes. It is.’
He put his hand lightly on her shoulder. She almost melted. ‘Look, I wanted to apologise again for this afternoon. I had no right to say anything.’ If he mentioned again about not wanting to see her hurt, she would start looking for some kind of sign on her head. Without meaning to, she glanced in Gabriella’s direction; yep, she wasn’t imagining those eye-lasers.
Paolo caught the direction of her glance. He removed his hand and sat back in his chair. ‘What has Gabriella been saying?’ He rubbed his chin in a way which made Laura wish she’d paid more attention to a body language article she’d seen in the paper last week. Did rubbing your chin mean you were nervous or guilty? Or both? ‘I suppose you know we had a bit of a thing last year?’ Laura tried not to show the shock on her face. ‘It was nothing. I mean, it was something, but nothing. I’m not particularly proud of my behaviour but, there you are, you can’t take it back.’ He looked above Laura’s head and she realised that Gabriella was now standing behind her. Were these people trained by the SAS? ‘Hi, Gabriella.’
‘Paolo.’ She nodded coolly.
‘Anyway, I’ll go back to Robert and the others and start rounding them up; I assume we’ll be sitting down to eat shortly. Maybe we can speak later, Laura?’ Paolo looked to be about to put a hand on her shoulder again, but then thought better of it. He nodded at Gabriella, who picked up her wine glass and raised it at him, and then returned to his seat.
‘Interesting conversation?’ Gabriella raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow.
Laura was still reeling with the news that Paolo and Gabriella had had a ‘bit of a thing’. Her face was hot. Jealousy? Embarrassment? ‘Not as interesting as the one I’d like to have with you.’
Gabriella smiled. Laura knew it wasn’t going to take much of a sales pitch to get her to talk. Gabriella picked up her wine glass and nodded in the direction of the dance floor.
As soon as they were out of earshot, she began to talk. ‘I don’t normally date men I work with. We all know what a terrible idea that is.’
She paused as if she wanted Laura to agree with her, but Laura wanted to work out what she was agreeing with first. ‘And?’
‘And then I met Paolo. He was very persuasive. Very charming.’ She paused again and glanced over in his direction. Laura couldn’t help but look too. When she turned back to Gabriella, she was looking at her intently. ‘Very Paolo.’
Laura wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this.
Chapter Twenty-One
Shannon
Desserts were being served. Crème brûlée: how predictable. Shannon had planned to book a more modern restaurant, but Robert had wanted to come here. At least the sales guys all seemed happy. When Robert played bad cop, Shannon was needed to be the good one. It was great to see people enjoying themselves, particularly when she was the one who had arranged everything. The food had been decent. The tables were well dressed. The music was good but not too loud. And relax.
Robert was deep in conversation with André and Mark. Were they talking business? She had given Robert strict instructions that tonight was purely social. With their offices spread across Europe, nights like tonight were vital in making them feel like a real team. It was those kinds of soft skills that Robert needed Shannon for. She leaned closer to where he was sitting. Ah, no. They were just talking about soccer. That was allowed. Robert looked up and winked at her before putting both hands behind his head and miming throwing the ball onto the pitch. The other two laughed. Boys.
How were the girls doing? Laura was talking to Gabriella. And they were glancing in Paolo’s direction. That didn’t look good for him. Gabriella was really good fun – and an excellent saleswoman – but she was most definitely not a fan of Paolo’s. Not since they’d broken up. That was why you shouldn’t get involved with people you work with. Don’t screw the crew. That had been Shannon’s mantra. Until Robert.
Shannon glanced back at him. The men had been joined by a young woman she didn’t recognise, although there was something familiar about her. And she was a very attractive young woman. Robert had his back to Shannon, but the rest of the sales guys looked like love-sick puppies. What was it about long blonde hair that turned grown men to mush? It wasn’t even this woman’s natural hair colour. Shannon shook the uncharitable thought from her head. What was she? Jealous?
Robert was leaning back in his chair and speaking up at the young blonde woman. Who was listening intently. Shannon loved him, but he wasn’t that interesting. What was going on? She glanced back at Laura; she should go and join her conversation with Gabriella, make sure that history wasn’t being rewritten. Shan
non liked Laura a lot. She was a little naïve, but that just made Shannon want to look out for her. She liked Gabriella too, but Gabriella was more than capable of looking out for herself.
Now this young blonde attractive woman was throwing back her head and laughing. What were they talking about? And why was Robert glancing around to look at Shannon? Was that guilt on his face?
Shannon snapped her face away. It was burning. When did it get so hot in here? She pulled at the top of her shirt as she walked over to Laura and put her hand on the back of her chair. ‘Everything okay, ladies?’
Laura scratched behind her ear. She didn’t look particularly comfortable. ‘Er… yeah… Dinner was great. We’re just… um… chatting.’
Gabriella looked far more satisfied. ‘Yes. I am just giving Laura some information.’
Shannon could guess what kind of information Gabriella was imparting. She needed to split these two up. But as she opened her mouth, there was a hand on her shoulder.
It was Robert. And the girl. ‘Shannon, can I have you for just a moment?’
Shannon followed Robert – and the girl – back to the bar area. This involved them negotiating their way across a dance floor filled with older couples dancing in pairs. Shannon marvelled at people like that, who had kept a relationship going for decades. Of course, there was no guarantee that these people weren’t on their second, or even third, marriage. Maybe serial monogamy was the key to happiness. It had worked for her so far.
One Way Ticket to Paris: An emotional, feel-good romantic comedy Page 14