Millie's Game Plan (9 page)

I’d managed to keep Lex out of the conversation on our last two calls by saying I’d tell her more when I felt certain something might happen…I didn’t want to jinx it. I sat down. ‘It’s nobody you know.’

‘At least tell me his name and what he does for a living.’

I drew a deep breath and gathered potato, meat and peas onto my fork. ‘His name’s Alexander – though everyone calls him Lex – and he’s a wine-merchant.’

For a moment, I thought I’d stunned her into silence, so rare was it for me to name any potential suitor. Eventually, she said, ‘A wine merchant. What does that mean?’

I explained.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘It certainly
sounds
impressive.’

Blimey. Would the woman never be satisfied?

‘Is he local? He doesn’t live in France, does he?’ She was worried about seeing her future grandchildren; repeating the fears of her own mother when Mum had abandoned her Spanish family for Dad.

‘He lives at Marshalhampton House. It’s practically a stately home.’

She raised her eyebrows and nodded. ‘Is he Catholic?’

I sighed. She totally believed her prayers were answered when both Trina and Tony married within the faith. No matter that Elliot was a closet atheist whose parents had divorced when he was ten, or that Tony’s wife, Emma, hadn’t been to Mass since her confirmation. Mum would have the full set, so long as I copped off with a left-footer.

‘I doubt it,’ I said with some satisfaction. ‘Their estate owns St Saviour’s Church and that, Mother, is C of E.’

When I’d asked Lex about dress code for the party he’d said, ‘Oh, a cocktail dress will be fine,’ like I had several to choose from. It was the summer sale season, so I shot into town and bagged a strappy, emerald green number with built-in bustier, which squeezed me into a shape I couldn’t possibly achieve on my own. It even made my apologetic little boobs look plump-a-licious.

Sacha insisted on doing something dramatic with my hair, back-combing and lacquering it, before wrapping it into a beehive. I hated it and pulled it out immediately, swearing at the stiff display jutting from my scalp. With a little more eye make-up, I’d have been a dead-ringer for Edward Scissorhands. There were only ten minutes till Lex arrived, so I had to surrender to another beehive – only this time, fewer bees.

Lex was twenty minutes late but made up for it by handing me a bouquet of apricot and cream roses. ‘Sorry,’ he said, swooping down to kiss my cheek. ‘The florist was just closing and I had to wait while they made these up for you.’ He stepped back to study me. ‘You look absolutely gorgeous.’ I could see his mind trying to work out the mechanics of removing my dress.

Sacha took the flowers from me. ‘I’ll put these in a vase – you two get going,’ she said, beaming her prettiest smile at Lex and cranking it up to ‘impressed’ for me. Lex was wearing an open-neck black shirt under a light grey suit, which accentuated his rugged, dark looks and his broad shoulders.

‘How’s the hand?’ he asked, moving forward and masterfully lifting the injured limb to check.

‘It’s fine, getting better.’ The butterfly stitches had started to look grubby, so I’d peeled them off and stuck a big, fat, clean plaster over the whole thing. The wound probably needed to breathe but I didn’t want to turn people’s stomachs with the sight of my livid scar.

He bent over and dropped a gentle kiss on the plaster; his breath wafting across my fingers, sending a shiver through me. ‘I’ll do everything I can to take your mind off it,’ he said, giving me that sensational, I-know-exactly-what-you-need look that had my legs quivering.

As he led me to the car, his hand hovering at the small of my back, I could feel my chest swelling with pride…or maybe it was the bustier straining over my rib-cage. If my mother could see me now, I thought. As I sat in the leather passenger seat of his shiny red sports car, I liked to think Dad probably could, and it made my eyes tingle.

The party took up the whole restaurant. The walls were painted in shades of taupe and oyster, with tiny steel light fittings peppering their surface. The tables were polished black marble and there was a huge, marble and steel water feature in the corner. There were ninety-six people there – I counted – for a divorce party. Our host, Dominic, was one of Lex’s old Uni friends.

I’ve been to plenty of smart ‘dos’ in my time, black tie and all that, but usually as part of my job. I’d never mixed socially with wall-to-wall upper-crust. But Lex was treating me like a princess, so what was I worried about? Well, in a nutshell: my hair; my bustier which was beginning to feel like an instrument of torture; whether or not it would be obvious to everyone that I’d been to
Tatton Hill Comprehensive School and whether Lex was really keen on me or just being the perfect date. I was a bundle of neuroses, cinched into an emerald green cocktail dress. But the champagne had a gentle, sherbety fizz, which was thoroughly scrummy so I drained the glass when I saw the waiter approaching with a top-up.

We were seated with two couples from Lex’s university; the wives were absolutely stunning. Thank goodness I’d bought a new dress and not settled for some tired old number from my wardrobe. My name card said
Lex Marshal + 1
, which I thought a tad impersonal but at least it didn’t have some other woman’s name scrubbed out. It also suggested he didn’t have a significant other. Next to me was
Serena French +1
, which made me feel slightly less paranoid.

Lex introduced me to the others, placing his hand between my shoulder-blades as he did so – his warm, dry fingers sending a charge of electricity straight down my spine and beyond. I was so distracted, I couldn’t for the life of me commit their names to memory and resolved to nip round the table later to read their name cards – assuming they weren’t down as
plus ones
as well.

One of the wives smiled guardedly at me and wanted to know how we’d met. Lex cut in with, ‘She was taking erotic pictures of my mother.’

To which her husband said, ‘Fantastic. Good old Vonnie. What a sport.’

The others laughed. ‘What do you do, Millie…is that short for Millicent?’ the wife asked, fixing her narrow eyes on me.

I smiled back. ‘Short for Camilla. I’m in marketing. And you?’

‘I help Ashley with his business,’ she said, squeezing her husband’s hand.

‘Yes, largely by keeping out of it.’ Ashley chortled, squeezing her hand too, and planting a kiss on her cheek. She smiled, but I sensed it was through gritted teeth.

‘Who are we waiting for?’ asked the other wife who was so heavily
pregnant, I anticipated wet feet before the night was over.

Her husband answered. ‘One of Dominic’s old flames – Serena.’

‘No!’ exclaimed Ashley. ‘Haven’t seen her since we were at Uni. Who did she marry?’

Lex shook his head, ‘Not sure she did, unless she’s kept her maiden name.
Still down as Serena French on the seating plan.’

‘Maybe Dominic’s hoping to reignite the old flame, then.
Wouldn’t blame him. She was an absolute peach. Wonder what she’s doing now?’ he said, causing his wife to reach for her wine glass.

‘You can ask her yourself,’ Lex answered. ‘She’s just arrived.’

I looked across to see a ravishing red-head, in a khaki coloured silk sheath that started on her perfect, hemispherical bosoms and ended above her perfect, knobble-free knees. The only jewellery she wore was a massive, white cuff-watch. Her long, slippery hair was draped over one shoulder and when she smiled, her mouth formed a wide, friendly crescent of pretty teeth. She was spell-binding – even I could feel myself falling for her. It was the eyes, definitely the eyes – so fresh and vivid and clear.

‘Hi,’ she said. ‘It’s been a long time. You all look fabulous.’

Ashley’s wife blinked and took another swig of wine. If I’d thought I looked drop-dead…well…average, I was now merely dead average. And in all the commotion of greeting Serena, none of us had even noticed her escort, who was pulling out the chair beside me – none except Ashley’s wife, who suddenly perked up. ‘Hello,’ she said, eyes flashing.

‘Hello,’ he replied, as I looked up. ‘Hello Millie, fancy seeing you here.’

My jaw sagged as the Reverend Josh Warwick smiled down at me. And to think I’d thought he’d been showing an interest in me. Even Sacha had been convinced. Cuh. It would appear that His Reverence was not quite the squeaky clean, blue-eyed boy I’d thought him to be. ‘Yes, fancy seeing you here,’ I said, stroking a strand of hair that had never made it into the beehive, and pulling my shoulders back.

‘We were all at Uni together.’

‘Ah,’ I said, guessing that was how he’d ended up working at Marshalhampton church. It seemed the old boy network permeated every walk of life.

‘So, are you here to photograph the event?’ he asked, looking down at me with those crystal blue eyes, all soft and melting above his classic grey suit and white shirt – no dog collar.

‘No, not at all. Haven’t even brought my camera.’ I leaned away from him. ‘I’m here as Lex’s guest.’

Josh flashed a look at Lex, who had switched his attention from Serena to us and was reaching out to shake his hand. ‘Josh,’ he said abruptly.

‘Evening, Lex.’

Lex stood up and beamed a very warm smile in Serena’s direction. ‘Serena, you’re looking even more gorgeous than I remember. How are you? It’s been ages.’

Serena nodded. ‘Yes. Ages,’ she said and turned immediately towards me.

Wow! There had to be some history there or I was J-Lo’s double.

Josh made the introductions, ‘Serena, this is Millie. She’s a very keen photographer, she’s working towards an exhibition on village cricket.’

It’s possible I
blushed, he made it sound so grand.

‘Sounds like fun,’ she said, shaking my hand.

‘Thank you for waiting for us,’ Josh said as he sat between us. ‘Sorry we held you up. This looks good. Bon appétit.’

So…no grace before dinner?
I imagined he might pause to say a quiet one to himself but he just tucked in, like everyone else.

The salad was, I’m sure, delicious but all I could think about was how weird it all was. Sacha would shriek when I told her.

Lex was the perfect date – charming and attentive. Just as he should be, and just like Josh was being attentive to Serena. Not that I minded, of course.

‘Tell me, Josh,’ I said, ‘what are Marshalhampton’s prospects in the Hampshire cricket league?’

He looked at me. ‘We’re in the third division so not that hot.’

‘Does the team have ambitions to move up?’

His head tilted. ‘Millie, are you really that interested in cricket?’

‘No,’ I said, rather sheepishly.

He laughed. ‘So what are you interested in – really interested in?’

I almost gagged as I tried to define what that might be. I worked. I got up at six, was in the office by eight, had lunch at my desk, was home by seven-thirty and often back at my laptop by nine. I even worked some weekends if a proposal needed tweaking or copy needed reviewing. So I told him about Hamlets.

A smile spread across his face. ‘I’m impressed,’ he said.

‘I enjoy it. It’s nice to give something back.’ I paused to sip my wine, preparing to tell him about
Grease
, when Lex cut across me.

‘So, Serena,’ he said, ‘
tell us what you’re up to these days.’

I took another slurp of wine and noticed Josh’s hand stealing across to squeeze Serena’s.

‘I’m designing handbags.’

‘Handbags?’
I said. ‘Who do you work for?’

Serena’s face brightened. ‘I’ve just set up my own company. But it’s very early days.’

‘Maybe Millie can help you with your marketing,’ Lex offered.

Serena smiled. ‘Oh, if I hadn’t already appointed an agency, I’d be very happy to talk about working with you, Millie.’ She was genuinely lovely. ‘Only, Sam Gordino’s looking after that side of things. Have you come across him?’

Had I? His agency was the hottest thing in town. The provincial outfit I worked for didn’t come close. ‘Absolutely. He’s fantastic.’

Lex’s hand slipped over mine. ‘I’m hoping Millie will help me with a new project I’m working on.’ My head swung to look at him. He shrugged. ‘That’s if you fancy it?’

I looked into his green eyes, which seemed to smoulder through those inky black lashes.
Fancy it – right here, right now
, I wanted to say. Instead I gave a slightly husky but professional response. ‘That sounds interesting, maybe we should meet next week to discuss it.’

He leaned towards me. ‘I’ll ask my secretary to call you and arrange it,’ he said, low enough for only me to hear, which softened the blow of thinking about his secretary. I dearly hoped she was some boot-faced, super-efficient relic of the seventies.

‘What’s the new project?’ Josh’s voice broke through our special moment. Spoilsport. Maybe he fancied me, after all.

Lex looked at me and drew a breath, like he was feeling every bit as revved up as I was.
Lucky me. ‘It’s something for the commercial market. Most of our wines are sold through restaurant chains and bistros. I’m hoping our latest venture will meet a wider market.’

Mama
mia! He didn’t even have to talk dirty to rouse me. This guy was absolutely tailor-made for my future. Josh continued to look at him, waiting for further information that Lex wasn’t about to supply. And why should he?

‘It’s never a good idea to talk about your product before it’s launched,’ I explained. ‘You don’t want the competition beating you to it. And, it dilutes the impact.’

Josh’s eyes moved to look at me, and he smiled. ‘Fair enough.’

Lex squeezed my hand. We were already a team and exchanged a hot, meaningful look. My mascara was waterproof but I didn’t have data on its melting point.

The voice of the pregnant wife brought me back to reality. ‘Would you all like to join us next Saturday? We’re going to Classics at Clavering Park.’ Her face was beaming. ‘It’s great – provided the weather holds out. Everyone brings a picnic.’

I looked at Lex who shrugged. ‘Sounds like it might be fun,’ he answered.

‘Michael’s going down early to put up the gazebo – so we’re sure of a good spot.’

Ashley’s wife’s eyes darted from Serena to Josh and back to her husband. ‘Unfortunately, we can’t come. We’re going to be in the
Virgin Islands.’

‘What’s unfortunate about that, Gemma?’ Ashley asked. ‘We’re going to the best bloody hotel they’ve got. It’s costing me a packet.’

Gemma rolled her eyes and reached for her wine glass and drained it.