Beneath This Man (This Man 2)

She halts her hasty advance on Jesse and gives me the once over, her eyes finishing and remaining on my neck. She’s spotted the necklace, which is hardly surprising, you can’t exactly miss it, but she is not dazzled by the beauty or sparkle – not a chance – she is weighing up the likelihood of who has bought it and judging by her screwed by botox pumped face, she has hit the nail right on the head. I instinctively reach up and clasp the diamond, almost like I’m protecting it from her beady eyes. She flicks a begrudging stare at me and then runs her eyes down my lace clad body. I straighten my shoulders and smile sweetly.

‘I’m here now.’ Jesse grumbles, as he pulls me along beside him. We enter the bar and find Mario dishing out firm instructions to the bar staff. The bar has tripled in size and I realise that the folding doors dividing the bar and restaurant have been opened and dozens of tall bar tables and stools have been scattered between the rooms.

‘Here, sit.’ He lifts me onto a stool at the bar and calls Mario over before sitting himself opposite me.

Sarah points at a spreadsheet in her hand. ‘Can we just go through …’

‘Sarah, give me a minute.’ Jesse cuts her off, without taking his eyes from me. I could kiss him. ‘What would you like to drink?’ he asks.

I can feel the ice emanating from Sarah as she stands there like a plum and waits for Jesse to tend to me before he gives her the attention she’s demanding. I might take a while to decide. Can I have alcohol? He did say I can drink if he is around.

Mario appears, looking rather dapper in his white waistcoat and bow tie, his hair combed precisely to the side and his moustache neatly trimmed. He smiles brightly and I remember the lush cocktail he made for me earlier today. ‘I’ll have a Mario Most Marvelous, please.’ I grin at Mario.

He laughs loudly. ‘Yes!’ He starts faffing at the bar. ‘Mr Ward?’

‘Just a water, please, Mario.’ Jesse replies, leaning towards me for a kiss. I can feel Sarah’s eyes drilling into me, so, of course, I oblige and let him have his way. Not that I need Sarah around to do that. He has his way wherever and whenever he chooses.

‘Sloe gin, Mario.’ she snaps petulantly, and then proceeds to huff while Jesse gets his fix of me. He really does not have any regard for this woman, and I feel all the more comfortable for it. She’s not even really a threat.

‘Jesse, I could really do with you in the office.’ she presses.

He growls, and I’m mentally willing him to trample all over her. ‘Sarah, please!’ he grates, standing up in front of me. ‘Baby, do you want to stay here or would you like to come with me?’

I’m not looking at her, but I know she has just rolled her eyes, and while I would love to piss her off more, I’m quite happy to sit with happy Mario and drink my Most Marvelous. ‘I’m good here, you go.’

He grabs his water and pushes his lips to my forehead. ‘I’ll be quick.’ He stalks off, leaving Sarah to virtually jog on her eight inch heels in order to keep up with him, but not before she leans across me to retrieve her gin from the bar on a snarl. I ignore it and accept my drink from a smiling Mario.

‘Thank you, Mario.’ I return his smile and take a sip, gasping in gratitude.

‘Miss Ava. May I say how magnificent you are looking this evening?’ He smiles fondly, and I blush slightly.

‘Mario, may I say how devilishly handsome you look this evening.’ I raise my glass to the small Italian man, who I have become rather fond of.

He slaps the bar on a sharp burst of laughter, and then his eyes fall onto the diamond that’s suspended around my neck before he tips his eyes back up to me with a high raised eyebrow. ‘He loves you very much, yes?’

I give a little embarrassed shrug, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the friendly Italian. I don’t want everyone thinking the inevitable, just like Sarah did. ‘It’s just a necklace, Mario.’ A Sixty grand necklace, yes, but no one has to know that small detail. I reach up to grasp it again. I have to keep checking it’s there, even though I can feel the weight perfectly.

‘I see that you love Mr Ward very much too.’ He smiles and tops my glass up. ‘It makes me happy.’

It does? He gets distracted by a smashed glass and goes stalking off, waving his arms around and shouting in Italian.

I sit happily at the bar watching the staff preparing for the evening. Champagne is poured into hundreds of glasses and the bar is repeatedly wiped down by Mario. He shouts instructions around and points here and there to guide his staff. This is like a finely tuned execution of organisation – he knows what he is doing. The little Italian is a perfectionist, making everything just so. The huge room looks stunningly made up, everything obviously arranged precisely and with the utmost attention to detail. The low hanging chandeliers are shimmering subtly, giving off a soft apricot glow of light, the words sensuous and invigorating springing to mind immediately – words I have heard before.

Pete appears with a tray of canapés. ‘Ava, you look wonderful.’ He presents me with the tray. ‘Would you like a canapé?’

I take in the glorious smell of smoked salmon and spy the small flat breads caked in cream cheese. ‘Ah, Pete.’ I place my hand on my stomach. ‘I’m still full from lunch.’ I have no idea how I’m going to manage a three course meal. I’ll burst out of this dress.

‘Ava, you hardly ate your lunch.’ He gives me a disapproving look and carries on his way. ‘Enjoy your evening.’