Skinny Dipping (4 page)

The woman scanned her eyes over the guest list for the second time. Sophie noticed Matthew Silver’s tag sitting on the table, the embossed letters looking up at her. “It’s okay, his tag’s here. I guess he’s later than I am.”

She entered the ballroom, instantly seeing a potential client, Tom Johnson from Barney’s chocolates. At least she’d have a lot to talk to him about. All those chocolate wrappers in her bag were there for this reason – to get the Barney’s chocolate work. She just needed to be smooth and sell.

Matthew Silver didn’t turn up to the gala.

Chapter 3

After the London Annual Advertising Awards, Sophie directed a taxi back to Derek’s place. Halfway there, realization hit like a lighting bolt and she rerouted the taxi to her new Highbury flat address.

The car stopped outside the blue door. She removed her wallet from her handbag, and the taxi driver quoted an exorbitant fare. She rubbed her ears, hoping she misheard, maybe he misquoted.

“It’s okay lovie. We all move round at times, your secret’s safe with me.” The cabbie winked, leaning forward. “You have a good night now.”

She stumbled out of the car, ran up the steps to the front door, and wondered why the key refused to turn in the lock. The tennis ball swung on her keychain. Her keychain for Derek’s place. She was using the wrong set. Awareness bubbled up inside her and finally she managed to open the door with the right keys.

She wobbled up the unfamiliar staircase, thrust open her bedroom door. She shimmied past the maze of cartons in her room, and stripped off her clothes, lying down to sleep. Even with alcohol streaming around in her system, the bed felt far too cold, far too roomy. Usually Derek’s body was there, next to her. She used to wrap her legs around his body to seek warmth, or put her cold feet between his thighs. She stretched out into the space, moving herself into the middle of the bed.

She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t be one of those pathetic, snivelling girls. Even after all the champagne drunk at the gala, she felt an overwhelming sadness. She felt hollow, empty. She cast the thoughts aside, willing the visions of Derek to stop plaguing her mind. They didn’t.

***

With images of Derek still haunting her, Sophie thrust her body up out of bed at six thirty the next morning. There was no point torturing herself, because she didn’t want to remember anymore poignant moments she’d spent with him. There was no point wallowing, although it was too early to go to work.

She grabbed her mobile phone. Nothing from Derek. A text from her Dad. “Please call me.” It was too early to reply, he’d be asleep.

She wiped the sleep from her eyes. Her head fuzzy, thick her brain was possibly full of cotton wool. As she dressed a germ of an idea began to grow. Her new home in Highbury and Islington was a short stroll from the
Highbury Aquatic Centre
, one of the swimming centres which formed part of the
Silver Swimming Chain
. It might be too early for work, but early enough to go to the pool and introduce herself to Matthew Silver. He didn’t turn up at the gala, but that wouldn’t stop her from turning up at his pool.

Pulling garments out of cardboard boxes, she found suitable clothing to wear to work, something to make a first time impression. This was an excellent idea. Today they would meet, and she would put a face to the name, Matthew Silver.

Sophie dashed out of the Highbury house, energised, striding determinedly toward the pool. She got there and read the sign.
“Highbury Aquatic Centre”
and almost jumped back.

Did she have a lapse in sanity, the lack of sleep, the stress, making her momentarily crazy? She suddenly felt queasy. Her stomach somersaulted, churned. She hated swimming pools or any building which contained a body of water larger than a hot tub. She was surprised she was at the swimming centre now.

Inhaling, and gripping her handbag, she held onto her reserve. She’d come to the
Highbury Aquatic Centre
to meet Matthew Silver. She’d do her best to see him. There was no need to actually go near the water. With absolute caution, she walked inside the building, head darting, noticing a girl standing behind a reception counter.

She marched to the reception bench and to the pretty girl standing there with long slim legs, poking out of a pair of blue shorts. Sophie placed the girl in her mid-twenties, noticing the toned physique, and wishing for the same muscle definition.

“Hi there,” Sophie said. “I have an appointment with Matthew Silver.”

The girl frowned and looked up from the reception counter. “Really?” The girl glanced at a hanging clock, on the wall behind her. “Matthew doesn’t usually turn up for another thirty minutes. He didn’t mention he had a meeting this morning. What’s your name?”

“Sophie. Sophie Smart.”

The girl’s eyebrows flew to the top of her head. “Hello,” the girl said, recognition in her voice, although they had never met. “I’m Eve. Matthew’s personal assistant.”

“Eve,” Sophie said brightly, and analysed Eve’s face intensely. Her hair was pulled into a knot on top of her head. The colour was almost ebony, black as night. Sophie’s mind whirred, combining a picture of Eve with her black hair, stars shimmering in the night sky. Forming her mental picture, she’d remember Eve’s name. Eve. Eve. Eve. She’d got it, locked it in, and used imagery to form a memory.

“Eve,” Sophie repeated the name. “What a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I’m not sure if you remember but we’ve spoken on the phone quite a few times haven’t we?” Eve would remember that Sophie hounded her to speak with Matthew almost on a daily basis. She hadn’t resorted to begging, not yet. Although she had turned up to his place of work, uninvited.

“So, did Matthew actually plan this meeting?” Eve asked, carefully. “Or have you turned up on your own accord?”

Sophie folded her arms in front of her chest, lowered her eyelashes, summoning all her methods of persuasion. Start with a smile. Think of a story. Draw her in. Get her onside. The girl was young, what would she possibly understand?

“Eve, have you ever been stood up?” Sophie widened her eyes, if she went to acting school she could probably even learn how to make them glisten.

“Yes.” Eve’s face flushed.

Sophie brought a hand to her chest, sighing visibly. “It feels awful doesn’t it? All the effort, getting dressed up and everything.” She swallowed, Acting 101, she was onto it. “Especially when everyone keeps looking at the empty seat next you – it’s rather embarrassing. Especially when he keeps cancelling, and my boss is blaming
me
for not delivering. I’m feeling kind of desperate to talk to Matthew. Otherwise, I’m afraid I might lose my job. They think I’m not being persistent enough.”

Eve chuckled. “That’s definitely not true is it? There must be some mistake, Matthew’s not like that. At least he didn’t used to be.”

Sophie nodded her head. “He stood me up. As you well know, we were supposed to meet at the gala last night, and he didn’t even bother to let me know he wasn’t coming. I left several messages on his cell.”

“It seems very strange,” Eve said, biting her lip. “I saw him leave in a tuxedo, and get into his car.” Eve was a loyal personal assistant.

“Eve, I’m finding the working relationship with Matthew really difficult. I thought I would come here, and see if we can work something out, so we can just get the job done.”

“He’s been really fragile lately.”

“That doesn’t mean he had to be rude.”

“He almost fell off the rails. That’s why he had an eighteen-month sabbatical.”

“Oh?” Sophie said, leaning over the bench.
Drugs? Alcohol?
“Is he okay now?”

Eve shrugged. “He’s better, he’s getting it together. What do you want to do? Wait?”

Sophie looked around the reception. “I guess I don’t have many choices. I’ll wait, but only until eight-thirty.”

“I’m terribly sorry. Do you know anything about the pool chain?”

“I know a bit.”

“Well, I’m not just Matthew’s personal assistant, but I’m also the resident coach at the pool and am absolutely happy to help you in any way I can.”

“Hmmm…” Eve was very helpful. “Matthew is the one who wanted to be more involved. Maybe you could talk to him about getting more involved, relieve him a bit.”

The girl clasped her hands together. “Do you like swimming? I can give you a pool tour.”

Sophie looked at the girl, she was really trying. “Eve, I’m not really good with water.” She faced Eve. “I’d love to hear more about the coaching here, though. It might help with the campaign.”

“I mostly coach. Matthew, well, he doesn’t teach anymore. As you probably know, Matthew used to be a serious racer until ….” Eve’s voice trailed off and she looked down at the desk, shifting papers.

Sophie furrowed her brow. “No, I didn’t know he raced, do you think he would like a campaign with a sporty angle?”

Eve waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it, he doesn’t publicise it anymore. Matthew and I used to be in the same swimming squad, although he’s years older than me. He’d do anything to be in the water, but things have changed quite drastically. After the accident, he was lucky to even walk through those doors.” She pointed to the turnstiles which led presumably to the pool.

“Accident?”

Eve leaned over the reception desk. “I guess now you’ve heard, with him being away so long after the accident, his hotel chain is now in serious trouble. Now he’s always in Brighton.”

“Oh, is that why he doesn’t swim as much?”

“He’s busy with the hotel chain but not getting in the water is probably more to do with Rebecca.”

“Rebecca?” Sophie said, hoping Eve would elaborate, this gossip was getting juicy.

“Come and look at this. These are all Matthew’s. He was pretty good, really good. In fact, the whispers around the place were that he was Olympic standard.”

Eve skirted the reception desk, beckoning Sophie to a large glass cabinet filled with trophies and ribbons.

“You know Sophie, I could help you, if you’ve got a fear.”

Sophie shot the girl a glance, how did she know? She was very perceptive. “Ahh…nope. No, not really my thing, getting into water.” She shook her head. “No chance. No way. No thank you.”

“Really? Why not?” a shocked voice said, echoing round the reception room.

Sophie spun around and her hand came to her chest. The tall blond man, the owner of the Porsche, was standing in front of here. Right here, in this reception. What on Earth was he doing there?

His blue eyes danced. “I would have thought you’d love water, being an avid surf lover and all. If I knew you better, I’d even think you owned a surf wallet. Velcro perhaps?”

Her heart beat wildly in her chest. He was a stalker, that’s why he wanted her surf wallet. A creep. A voyeur. “I never actually said I
liked
the surf. I said my niece thought I might like the purse.” Sophie shot a look at Eve, looking at her for protection, but Eve simply shook her head.

“You’ve met.” Eve went behind the counter and sighed. “I knew it. You conned me into thinking he’d stood you up.”

“But he did.” Sophie’s gaze narrowed. Clarity coming to her mind. Surely, this man, with the flaring temper and the outrageous propositions, couldn’t be the rude Matthew Silver? She struggled to lift her jaw up. “He didn’t turn up to the gala,” Sophie insisted.

“Ah,” he lifted his finger up. “But I did. You saw me there.”

She tried to compose herself, divert her gaze from hovering on how his t-shirt clung to his athletic frame. She hadn’t realised he was so muscular. He looked so much better with the suit jacket off, showing incredible shoulders and arms. He extended his hand. “See? I told you we weren’t strangers. Pleased to meet you, Sophie Smart.”

“Matthew Silver,” she said, looking up into his face. She didn’t need a memory game to remember this man’s name. Oh no. Last night’s events were stamped into her memory, and since she’d been trying to contact him for what seemed like eternity, his name was always on the tip of her tongue.

Eve shook her head behind the reception counter and busied herself with some papers.

Sophie glared at him. “Was this all a game to you? Coming all the way to the hotel, meeting me, not bothering to introduce yourself, and not even attending the gala?” She placed one hand on her hip.

His lip twitched, only slightly, but she saw it. Was he laughing at her? “I
did
meet you outside the hotel. I got to know you quite well, don’t you think? I now know the full contents of your Mary Poppins bag.”

Her face reddened as she clutched her handbag.

“Now be careful that you don’t trip now. There’s a step here, and another one over there.”

Sophie crossed her arms. “It took quite some time to get those tickets, since you gave me so little notice that you wanted to go. If you didn’t want to come you should have said. I have other clients who were dying to go with me.”

“Really? I can see why.” His voice was playful.

“Yes.” She realised he was almost laughing. “You’re enjoying this.”

He widened his eyes in innocence. “I love getting your daily messages, so maybe we should make this a daily meeting. You coming to the pool.”

She was beyond frustrated, she felt like cuffing him behind the ears. Slapping some sense into him. “We
had
a meeting last night. I moved house right beforehand and the last thing I needed was to get stood up. You could have called me. I only went to the gala because we were supposed to meet up.”

“You make it sound like we’re married.”

Sophie felt her hand coming to her forehead. She took a deep breath, exhaled, found her sense of calm. She smiled. Her lips were tense and tight.
Think sales, think winner
.

She started slowly, keeping her voice sugary. “We need to start talking ideas. We need to get working, to put together a campaign, and bring in some revenue.”

Matthew grinned, not even having the ability to look slightly shamefaced. What was wrong with him? Dimples emerging on each cheek. “Okay, well, I think we can do that.”