Mia's Scandal

Go away and learn to honour yourself, Oscar had said to her. Well, she had shot that ideal in the foot, for where had her sense of honour been when she had lusted after Nikos Theakis? Where was it in recognising that she had just turned into the one person she had always vowed she would never turn into—her high-class whoring mother!

And she would never forgive Nikos for making her aware that this was what she had done to herself.

She heard the telltale sound of the helicopter lifting off the ground as she still sat in her huddle on the bathroom floor.

He’d gone. Her aching heart turned over. He had not bothered to hang around for a second longer than he absolutely had to and she hated him for doing that too.

A few minutes after she had been delivered back to her apartment via helicopter, then a chauffeured limousine, which left her feeling cynically unimpressed, Sophie called her.

‘Have you seen the papers today? Someone had an interesting time last night,’ she teased. ‘Did you go skinny dipping in the D’Lassios’ pool because you were hot?’

Mia sank into the nearest chair and closed her weary eyes. So, despite assurances from Santino, her trip into the pool had found its way into the press.

‘Explain this skinny dipping,’ she requested.

‘Self-explicit turn of phrase,’ Sophie said. ‘OK,

so you had all your clothes on,’ she conceded, ‘but the photo of the great and gorgeous Nikos hauling you out of the pool without so much as splashing himself looks impressive, while you looked kind of—wet and helpless and cute.’

Cute. Mia pressed her lips together because they wanted to tremble.

‘What happened?’

‘I—slipped in the crush,’ she lied. ‘Is there anything else in the papers I should know about?’ she then asked.

‘Only this amazing picture of you leaving later wearing the sexiest dress I’ve ever seen on you. Was it Nina’s?’

‘Sì’.

‘She has fabulous taste,’ Sophie gushed. ‘You went from fairy princess in floating blue silk chiffon to wet and helpless to dramatically slinky all in one evening. I wish I could wear a dress like that,’ she sighed out wistfully.

‘You could if you only stopped trying to hide your lovely figure under metres of fabric,’ Mia murmured impatiently.

‘Oh, come on, Mia. I’m five foot three inches high to your five-eight,’ Sophie pointed out. ‘Long and slinky I am not and never will be. Besides the unplanned dip, did you enjoy the rest of the evening or did you need to take the courage pill halfway through?’

Just like that her half-sister guided the subject away from herself as she always did, Mia noticed. Then she felt her insides curl up and sink because the rest of the evening did not bear thinking about.

‘The rest of the evening was—OK,’ she mumbled.

‘You’re distinctly unimpressed, then, that Nikos spent a cool half-million at the auction on a diamond bracelet.’

He did? Mia blinked. They had left before the auction had even started! He must have placed his bid before they left, she decided, murmuring out loud and cynically, ‘Perhaps he collects them to give out to his one-night stands as they leave.’

‘Oh, wow,’ Sophie murmured. ‘Now that sounded bitter.’

Mia was glad to hear it confirmed. She hoped to build on the bitterness she felt towards Nikos Theakis until it had successfully wiped out these other feelings of hopeless, useless love and hate and hard, crushing hurt.

Pride alone made her turn in for work on Monday morning to find herself the sinecure for a battery of wary glances and terribly reserved smiles. It was only then that she remembered the bruising kiss in a sunny car park which she discovered was now the property of every employer in the building and had effectively wiped out all the natural friendliness she had been gifted with in the preceding weeks.

‘What did you expect?’ Fiona asked her. ‘You can’t indulge in a relationship with the boss and expect everyone to continue to treat you like one of them. You’re a Balfour. He’s a billionaire. You’ve confirmed their original expectations of you and now they feel duped.’

What could she say in her own defence? That the kiss had been a form of punishment because she’d likened him to a donkey called Tulio? Or that he’d used the kiss to warn off the guy from accounts because Nikos believed he’d stood her up on a date? The first was really stupid and unbelievable in the cold light of a new day. And the second excuse exposed her own lie to Nikos in the first place.

By the end of the week she’d closed herself off inside a steel case of protection so that nothing else could threaten her very shaky composure. Nikos had not returned to London and she had stopped eating. In truth she felt too wounded and raw to eat. Fiona was constantly sending her worried glances. Even her aunt noticed the difference in her voice when they talked on the phone.

‘Is something wrong, Mia?’ she asked her.

‘I’m missing you,’ she said, and it was the truth. She was missing Tia and Tuscany, and the quiet calm simplicity of the life she’d led there.