This Man (24 page)

‘Just chips.’ I make my way down the hall to my bedroom. I feel completely deflated.

I sit with Kate on the couch, picking at the chips on my plate. I have absolutely no appetite, and I’m only half watching the re-run of
Friends
. My mind is all over the place, and I’m so furious with myself for letting it be.

‘Come on then, spit it out.’ Kate demands.

I turn to face my fiery friend with a chip half way to my mouth. I was an idiot if I thought I could get away with mooding in peace. I give her a non-committal shrug, popping the chip in my mouth and chewing lazily. Talking about it will only emphasise the fact that I am actually mooding over it – “it” being a man.

‘You like him.’

Yes, I do. I don’t want to, but I do.

‘He’s bad news. You saw him today.’ I grumble.

She makes a dramatic display of rolling her eyes and throwing herself back on the sofa. ‘You stood him up for your ex-boyfriend,’ She puts her plate on the coffee table in front of the sofa. ‘Ava, what did you expect?’

I frown at her. ‘He didn’t know why I stood him up. As far as he’s concerned, I just stood him up.’

‘Well, he doesn’t like being stood up then, does he? She laughs. ‘Oh, by the way, I’m seething with you.’ She turns all serious.

What have I done? Oh, yes. She must be talking about my little Dan grenade.

‘Would you have preferred it if I hadn’t of told you?’ I ask.

‘You’ve not left me much time to leave town!’ she wails at me.

Oh, the drama! ‘You’re overreacting.

You don’t have to see him.’

‘No, I don’t. And I won’t!’

‘That’s okay then, isn’t it?’ I go for subject change. ‘Sam?’ I raise my eyebrows.

‘Isn’t he yummy? Jesse came back to the bar – with a face like thunder, by the way –

so I left them to it. He took my number.’

‘You’re a tart Kate Matthews!’

‘I know!’ she shrieks. ‘How were things left with the Lord?’ She looks at me carefully, weighing up my reaction to her question.

‘He was still mad, he stormed off.’ I shrug.

She smiles. ‘He’s pretty intense.’

I start laughing. ‘Pretty? I lose all cognitive thought when I’m around him.

When he touches me, it’s like I hand over all control of my mind and body to him.

It’s frightening.’

‘Wow.’

‘Yes, it’s pretty
wow
.’

She turns back to the television. ‘I like him,’ she says quietly, almost like she’s afraid to admit it, like it’s wrong to like him. ‘I’m just saying.’ She shrugs but doesn’t look at me. ‘He’s rich, steaming hot and obviously well into you. A man doesn’t behave like that when he’s just fucking about, Ava.’

Well, that may be so, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s cleared off and my phone hasn’t rang since. It’s probably a good thing.

‘Do you fancy a proper night out on Saturday?’ I ask. It’s a stupid question that I already know the answer to.

The look she fires me is mischievous. I grin back at her.

The next day, I breeze into the Royal Park hotel at twelve fifteen, all set for my appointment with Mikael Van Der Haus.

I’m directed into a snug sitting area with plush sofas. Gilded frames swamp the walls and a carved fire place dominates the room. It’s typically regal. I’m offered tea which I decline in favour of water. It’s bloody hot, and my black pencil dress is clinging to me.

Twenty minutes later, Mr Van Der Haus enters looking impeccable. He’s really very handsome. He smiles brightly at me, revealing a perfect row of white teeth.

What is it with me and older men at the moment? I hastily bat away my wayward thoughts.

‘Ava, please accept my apologies. I never like to keep a lady waiting.’ His mild Danish accent is only just detectable but really sexy.

Stop!
I rise from my seat as he approaches, putting my hand out to him with a smile. He takes my hand, but shocks me when he leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. Okay, that’s slightly inappropriate, but I’ll go with it. Maybe it’s a Danish thing. Ha! I would do well to remember what happened that last time a male client kissed me on a first meeting.

‘Mr Van Der Haus, it’s not a problem.

I’ve not long arrived myself.’ I reassure him.

‘Ava, this is our second project together. I know you dealt with my partner o n
Lusso
, but I will be involved in The Life Building a lot more, so please, call me Mikael. I hate formality.’ He takes a seat in the chair opposite me, crossing his long legs. ‘So, I’m looking forward to going through ideas with you soon.’

Huh? Isn’t that why I’m here now? ‘Yes, I haven’t really had the opportunity to research the development yet. I was hoping you would give me a brief and a week to get some ideas rolling.’

‘Of course!’ he laughs. ‘I’m being very rude dragging you here at such short notice, but I’m flying back to Denmark on Friday. I have your email. I shall send you the specific requirements. You did such a good job at
Lusso
. It really does lighten the pressure when you work with proficient people.’ He smiles.

Isn’t he going to give me the specifics now? That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? ‘We could have a quick chat now.’ I prompt.

He sits for a while, regarding me quietly, before leaning forward in his chair. ‘Ava, I hope you don’t think I’m being audacious, you see… well, how can I put it?’ He drums his fingers on his chin.

I’m a little worried. ‘I’m afraid I’ve brought you here under false pretenses.’

He laughs nervously, shifting in his chair.

‘Oh, how so?’ I ask baffled. And then it hits me.
Oh, no! Oh, no, no, no!
I lean back in my chair, instantly tensing from top to toe, and mentally beg the Lord Almighty to talk some sense into him before he says what I think he’s going to say.

‘I would like to ask you to join me for dinner.’ He looks at me expectantly, and I’m sure my face must resemble that of complete

horror.

I’m

burning

up.

‘Tomorrow evening, if it’s convenient with you, of course.’ he adds.

Shit!
What do I say? If I say no, he might withdraw his business from Rococo Union, and Patrick will go spare. What is it with men suddenly falling at my feet? Older men in particular? He’s way past Jesse in terms of age. At least, I think he is. He’s very good looking, but good God, he’s got to be twenty years older than me. I inwardly laugh. At least he hasn’t got me locked in a suite upstairs. How do I play this?

‘Mr Van Der Haus…’

‘Mikael, please.’ he interrupts me with a smile.

‘Mikael, I’m not sure mixing business with pleasure is a good idea. It’s kind of a rule for me. I’m very flattered.’ I laugh at my own audacity. Since when has that been an issue of late? And why did I say pleasure? I’ve assumed, and suggested, that it would be pleasurable to have dinner with him. It might not be, or it very well could be. Oh God! I mentally throw myself into the lovely fireplace.

‘Oh, that is a shame, Ava.’ he sighs.

‘Yes, it is.’ I agree, re-launching myself back into the hearth when he looks up in surprise.

He leans forward. ‘I admire your professionalism.’

‘Thank you.’ I’m bloody blushing again.

‘I hope this won’t affect our business relationship, Ava. I very much look forward to working with you.’

‘I’m looking forward to working with you too, Mikael.’

He lifts himself from the couch, approaching me with his hand stretched out. Thank God! I take it, letting him gently shake it. Did he really just drag me here to ask me to dinner? He could have called me.

‘I shall endeavor to email you at my earliest opportunity. Once I return from Denmark, I would like to show you around the building. Until then, you can draft some schemes. I’ve had the drawings sent to your office, and I’ll email you the specifics.’

‘Thank you, Mikael. Enjoy your trip.’

‘Goodbye, Ava.’ His long legs take him out of the snug.

Well, that was uncomfortable. I sit and finish my water while deliberating over my current emotional turmoil. If Jesse was as gracious as Mikael, then I wouldn’t be feeling so shitty right now. Never mixing business and pleasure has never been a rule because I’ve never had to make one.

In the space of two weeks, I’ve had two wealthy and very handsome clients pursue me. One I’ve declined, the other I‘ve caved in on. And, as a result, I’m all over the place. Not mixing business and pleasure is now a firm rule and one I intend to stick to. Not that I need to reinforce it. Mikael took my decline rather graciously and Jesse hasn’t called since abandoning me. Abandoning?

By two thirty, I’m back in the office. I don’t mention to Patrick the strangeness of my meeting with Mikael Van Der Haus, mainly because I’m concerned that, in the name of business, he’ll demand I go to dinner with him. Patrick will assume it would be a business dinner, but Mikael made it perfectly clear that there would be no business involved. Instead, I just mention emails, drawings and his intention to show me the building upon his return from Denmark. This seems to keep him happy.

I get my phone from my bag, noting no missed calls. I ignore the pang of disappointment and start making a few notes on Scandinavian design. I know I’ll be basing my design around clean, white, easy living, but I’m comforted by the fact that it will be tranquil and warm, not sparse and cold.

My phone rings and I grab it, way too hastily. It’s Kate.

‘Hi.’ I greet in an over the top, chirpy voice. I don’t know why I bother. She sees straight through it.

‘Faking detachment, are we?’ she asks.

‘Yes.’

‘I thought so. Have you not heard from him?’

‘No.’

‘Liking monosyllables today, huh?’

‘Yes.’

She sighs heavily down the phone.

‘Whatever. Have you asked Victoria and Gayboy if they’re up for Saturday night?’

‘No. I will, though. I’ve just got back from a very strange meeting.’ I open my top drawer to grab a paperclip, noticing the calla lily squished down the side of my stapler.

‘Strange how?’ She’s intrigued.

‘I went to meet the developer of
Lusso
, well, one of them. He asked me to dinner.

It was really uncomfortable.’ I grab the lily and chuck it in the bin quickly.

She laughs down the phone at me. ‘How old is this one?’

I bristle at her insinuation. He’s much older than Jesse. How much older is unknown, but he’s definitely older. I’ll probably never know now, though. ‘Mid-forties I guess, but extremely handsome, in a Scandinavian kinda way.’ I shrug to myself while guiding my mouse aimlessly around the screen. He’s nowhere near Jesse’s league, but he’s handsome, nonetheless.

‘You’re like a mature man magnet at the moment. Are you going?’

‘No!’ I screech. ‘Why would I?’

‘Why not?’ I can’t see her, but I know she has a questioning eyebrow arched.

‘No, I can’t, because I have a new rule…no mixing business with pleasure.’

‘MOVE!’ she screams, making me jump at my desk. ‘Sorry, some prat just cut me up. No mixing business with pleasure, ah?’

‘Yes. Are you driving and talking on your mobile, Miss Matthews?’ I challenge her. I know Margo doesn’t have a hands free kit.

‘Yeah, I’d better beat feet. See you at home. And don’t forget to tell Gay boy and Victoria the plans for Saturday.’

‘What are the plans?’ I blurt before she hangs up.

‘Get drunk, Baroque, eight o’clock.’

Get drunk. Yes, that’s a very good plan.

I leave the office at six with Tom and Victoria. ‘Saturday night, Guys?’

Tom stops abruptly, dramatically putting his palms out with a shocked expression on his smooth, baby face.

‘Oh my God, yes! I brought the most amazing coral shirt at lunch time. It’s divine!’

Victoria giggles, slapping his arse to push him onwards. ‘Where are we going?’

she asks.

‘Baroque at eight.’ I answer. ‘We’ll see where the night takes us.’

‘I’m in!’ Victoria sings at me. ‘But no gay joints, Tom. It’s my turn to pull.’ she grumbles

Tom frowns. ‘What about me?’

‘You’ve had your feed. It’s my turn,’ she spits, ‘Besides, what about the scientist?’

‘You know, science is actually very boring.’ he grumbles.

We say our goodbyes at Green Park Station. I take Jubilee to Central, while Victoria and Tom hop on Piccadilly.

Chapter 17

‘Morning,’ I know I sound like a miserable cow, but I’m trying really hard not to be.

Tom looks up from his copy of
Interiors
Weekly
and lowers his glasses to the end of his nose. ‘Darling, why the long face?’

he asks. I can’t even muster up the energy to plaster on a fake smile. I slump in my chair, and Tom’s sprawled across my desk, like mature ivy, within a second.

‘Here, this will cheer you up.’

He presents me with a feature in the magazine he’s reading and there, sat casually on the velvet chaise lounge at
Lusso,
is me. ‘Wonderful,’ I sigh. I don’t even bother reading it. I need to eradicate all things relating to
Lusso
from my mind.

‘Man trouble?’ He gives me a look of sympathy.

No, not man trouble – there’s no man to be having trouble with. I sulk. I knew it would be the last time I saw him. When he stalked off, I knew deep down that I wouldn’t see him again. I’ve not been checking my phone every ten minutes, I’ve not been mooding over it and I’m not twiddling my hair as I think this. I reluctantly admit…I really miss him. How ridiculous. He was a rebound fuck.

‘I’m fine,’ I find the strength to slap a smile on my face. ‘It’s Friday, I’m looking forward to getting plastered tomorrow night.’ I need a good night out.

‘Are we really getting plastered?

Fabulous!’

My attention is turned to the office entrance when I hear the high pitched screech of Victoria.

‘Oh…my…God! You will not believe what I just saw.’ She’s on the verge of passing out.

Tom and I both look at her blankly.

‘What?’ we ask in unison.

‘So, I was in Starbucks, waiting for my double shot cappuccino with extra chocolate, and this guy walks in – I recognise him from somewhere. I’m not sure where, but he’s one hot piece of man.

Anyway, he’s just stood there, minding his own, and this woman comes strutting in and tips a frappuccino all over him,’ She pauses to draw breath. ‘So, the woman starts screaming at him, calling him a lying, selfish arsehole, and then just walks out, leaving him dripping in frozen coffee and cream. It was all very dramatic.’

I sit and watch as Victoria recovers from her two breath commentary about the happenings of Starbucks on a Friday morning. Nothing like that ever happens when I’m in there.

‘It sounds like someone’s been a naughty boy,’ Tom smirks. ‘How hot was he?’

I roll my eyes. No doubt Tom would have flown to his rescue.

Victoria hands come up in front of her, palms forward. ‘We’re talking
Men’s
Vogue
.’

‘No!’ Tom takes his glasses off. ‘Is he still there?’

She screws her pretty little face up.

‘No.’

Oh, this is ridiculous.

Patrick comes barrelling into the office.

‘Guys, have we any work to do, or is it fart around Friday?’ He passes us swiftly, heading into his office and shutting the door behind him.

‘You two, let’s get on with some work, shall we?’ I shoo them away from my desk.

‘Oh, I forgot.’ Tom swings around. ‘Van Der Haus called to say he’ll be back in London on Monday. He’ll call you upon his return. He’s emailing you the specifics and had these sent over. Is he hot?’ His eyebrows jump up suggestively as he hands me an envelope.

He’s the biggest gay tart, but I’ll humour him. ‘Very.’ I take the drawings, widening my eyes for affect.

He screws his face up. ‘How come you get all the dishy clients?’ He walks back to his desk. ‘What I wouldn’t give to have an Adonis walk in here and throw
me
over his shoulder.’

I wince at Tom’s referral to Jesse’s performance the last time I saw him and pull my phone out of my bag when it starts bleeping with a calendar reminder. Oh, my hairdresser’s appointment, tomorrow at noon. I forgot about that. Well, that’s improved my mood slightly. And I’ll be nicely groomed for our big night out.

Perfect.

I work my way through heaps of quotations,

delivery

schedules

and

contractor requirements, before calling my live clients to check all is well. It is, apart from Mrs Peters swags and tails drama. An email lands from Mikael. I scan it quickly, deciding to look at it in more detail on Monday.

Sally comes scuttling up to my desk with a delivery. ‘Urm…I think this may be for you, Ava.’ She shifts from side to side with a box in her hand. ‘Do you want it?

What? Yes, I want it. If it’s a delivery for me, then I guess I want it. Oh, this girl is painfully anxious. I take the box from her hands.

‘Thank you, Sally. Will you make Patrick a coffee?’

‘I didn’t know he wanted one.’

Oh, the panic on her face has me wanting to make
her
a coffee. ‘Well, he doesn’t look right. Let’s look after him.’

‘Is he okay? He’s not ill, is he?’

‘No, but I think he could do with a coffee.’ I press, trying my hardest not to lose my patience.

‘Of course.’ She scuttles off, her brown plaid skirt swishing around her court shoes. I couldn’t even hazard a guess at her age. She looks about forty, but intuition tells me she’ll shock me and be nearer my age. I open the box and find all of the material swatches I ordered for The Life Building. I throw the box under my desk.

I’ll deal with them on Monday too.

As six o’clock approaches, I pop my head around Patrick’s door. He really doesn’t look right.

‘Patrick, I’m off. Are you okay?’

He looks up from his computer and smiles, but his eyes don’t sparkle like usual. ‘I’m just feeling a little peaky, flower.’

‘You should go home.’ I’m worried.

‘I think I will.’ He heaves his big body up from behind his desk and turns his computer off. ‘Bloody woman’s fed me something dodgy.’ he mutters as he picks up his briefcase.

‘Everything’s been turned off. You just need to set the alarm.’

‘That’s good. Have a good weekend, flower. I’ll see you on Monday.’ He wipes the back of his hand over his sweating brow. There’s definitely something wrong.

‘Okay, see you on Monday.’

***

With dramatic, smudged eyes and nude lips, I’m looking pretty sultry.

I walk into the kitchen, finding Kate hanging out of the window having a sneaky fag. What’s she thinking about now? She looks her usual lovely self, in a cream backless dress.

‘Wow!’ she blurts. ‘Someone’s out to impress tonight.’ She jumps down from the worktop, slipping her feet into her gold heels. ‘Short enough?’

I arch an eyebrow at her, running my eyes down her dress. ‘Pot…’

She laughs her carefree laugh that never fails to bring a smile to my own face.

‘Here.’ She hands me a glass of wine. I take it gratefully, pretty much necking it.

It’s very welcome. ‘The taxi’s here.’

I dump my empty on the side and follow Kate out to the taxi. I’m looking forward to my recovery night, but ignoring the fact that my recovery night is to recover from a few steamy encounters with a steamy male, and not to recover from the breakdown of my four year relationship with Matt. It’s ironic. I never felt the need to go out and get steaming drunk after my break up with Matt.

We walk into Baroque, spotting Tom and Victoria at the bar immediately.

‘What the hell?’ Tom exclaims, running his eyes up and down my black clad body on a grin. ‘Ava, you look lethal!’

‘Really good, Ava.’ Victoria adds.

It’s just a dress. ‘Thanks,’ I shrug, pulling the hem down.

‘What are you having?’ Kate asks.

Well, I’ve already had a glass of wine, so I guess I should stick. I did say I was going to have a good drink. ‘Rose, but make sure it’s Zinfandel, please.’

Kate orders the drinks, and we make our way to a tall table near the DJ. Tom’s wearing his new coral shirt and too tight jeans – he may as well have
gay
tattooed on his forehead, and Victoria looks as pretty as always. Everyone’s really made an effort tonight, me included. Why is that?

As the wine flows down, my troubled thoughts flow away. We’re laughing and chatting, and I’m beginning to feel normal again. I feel foot loose and fancy free. I like it. My Mum has always said “Alcohol makes for loose lips and loose lips sink ships”. This, I have just discovered, is most certainly true because I’m totally lit up, and I’ve filled everyone in on recent events. Considering I wanted to forget about it, I’m doing a bloody good job of hanging on to the memories.

Tom is thrilled about all of the rebound sex I’ve had. ‘So, he just stalked off and you haven’t seen him since?’ he asks critically.

Victoria pipes up. ‘That’s really un-cool.’

Kate rolls her eyes, looking at the pair like they’re a sandwich short of a picnic.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ she huffs. Tom and Victoria look at each other, then to me. I shrug. Is what obvious? Kate shakes her head. ‘You lot are dense. It’s simple…he
wants
her. No man behaves like that over a quick screw. I’ve told you this, Ava.’

‘Why would he disappear then?’

Victoria leans in, truly captivated by Kate’s explanation for Jesse’s behaviour.

‘I don’t know! I’m just saying. I’ve witnessed the chemistry. It’s way off the scales.’ Kate flops back on her tall chair in complete exasperation.

I laugh. I’m not sure if it’s too much wine, but that’s just…funny. ‘It doesn’t matter. He was a rebound fuck and that’s it.’ My explanation doesn’t seem to satisfy because they all carry on studying me with doubtful looks on their faces. I don’t even think
I’m
satisfied with my explanation, but it’s been four days and I’ve resisted the overwhelming temptation to call him.

Besides, he hasn’t called me or made any further appointments, so that pretty much says it all. I’m moving on. I’m just massively pissed off with myself for relenting to his persistence, putting him in the position to drop me – and he has.

‘Oh, can we change the subject, please?’

I snap. ‘I’m out to enjoy myself, not to analyse the details of my rebound fuck.’

Tom stirs his pina colada. ‘You know, everything happens for a reason.’

‘Oh, don’t start with all that airy fairy crap!’ Kate chides him.

‘It does. I’m a firm believer in it. Your rebound fuck is a stepping stone to the love of your life.’ He winks at me.

‘And Matt was a four year stepping stone.’ Kate points out.

‘To stepping stones,’ Tom sings.

Kate joins the toast. ‘And shots!’

I finish my wine and raise my glass in agreement.

‘Yes, shots!’ Tom shouts, dancing off to the bar.

We sway down the road to our next destination, The Blue Bar. We make it past the doormen, although one does eye Tom’s shirt suspiciously. Tom and Victoria charge for the dance floor when they hear Flo Rida and Sia singing about
Wild Ones
, leaving Kate and I to get the drinks.

I order a round and take Tom and Victoria’s over, putting them on a ledge nearby under their instruction. The dancing is that serious; they could be some time.

When I join Kate back at the bar, she’s talking to a man. She doesn’t know him. I can tell because she’s notched up her flirting by a few gears.

As I approach, she raises her voice over the music. ‘Ava, this is Greg.’

I smile, putting my hand out politely. He looks normal enough. ‘Hi, nice to meet you,’

‘Yeah, and you. This is my mate, Alex.’

He signals to a cute, dark haired guy next to him.

‘Hi,’ I shout.

He smiles confidently. ‘You wanna drink?’

‘No, thanks, I’ve just got one.’ Rule number one: Never accept drinks from strangers. Dan’s drilled it into me since I started going out.

‘Nah problem,’ He shrugs.

Kate and Greg move away from us, leaving me and Alex to make conversation.

I didn’t really want this. I came out to be rid of men in general. Now I’ve been lumbered with one.

‘What do ya do?’ Alex asks me.

‘Interior design, you?’

‘Estate agent,’

I inwardly groan. I have an aversion to estate agents – cocky, over confident, gold plated salesmen. Alex is all of these, with the added bonus of a dodgy cockney accent.

‘Nice.’ I say, because he’s just lost all of my interest, not that there was any in the first place.

‘Yeah, got myself a few grand bonus taday. Give me a shit pit and I’ll sell it, nah problem. I’m living it large in Landon and laving it.’
Oh God, slime ball!
‘Ya fancy going out samtime?’

NO!
‘Thanks, but I’m in a relationship.’

It’s a good job Cockney doesn’t know me and my bad habit. I’m twiddling my hair frantically.

‘Ya sure?’ he asks, inching closer and stroking my arm.

I pull away, planning my escape.

‘Positive.’ I smile sweetly, looking around for Kate.

Within the space of time it takes me to raise my glass to my lips, Cockney quickly disappears from my line of vision. It takes me a few seconds to piece together the events that are unfolding before my eyes, but when I do, I’m appalled.

Jesse has Cockney in a firm grip around his neck and pinned up against a pillar.

Chapter 18

‘Keep your fucking hands to yourself.’

Jesse snarls at a poor, startled Cockney.

He doesn’t know what’s hit him. I feel bad; he was only trying his luck. I would have dealt with it. Where did he come from?

This is all I need on my night out, supposedly free from arrogant men. Or not so, it would appear. He’s left me for four days wondering what happened, and now he’s turned up, out of the blue, raging like a wild bull. Has he even calmed down from Tuesday?

‘I’m sorry mate. I didn’t mean any offence. Your girlfriend and I were just chatting about shit, ya know.’ Cockney explains, completely panicked.