Beneath This Man (This Man Trilogy)(60)

I smile. ‘It doesn’t bother me in the slightest how old you are. Is that a grey hair?’ I ask dead pan as we board the Egyptian escalators.

He stands on the step below and turns around to face me. We’re pretty much at eye level. ‘Do you think you’re funny?’ he asks. He didn’t appreciate that referral. I shouldn’t tease him when he clearly has an issue.

I can’t keep a straight face and when he dips and tips me over his shoulder, I suppress a squeal. He can’t behave like this in Harrods! I correct myself. Jesse has no regard for public opinion on his behaviour. He’ll pick me up, ravish me, or even be blood boiling mad with me wherever he pleases. He doesn’t give a toss and, quite frankly, neither do I.

He carries me out of the store and on to Knightsbridge, setting me on my feet outside where I straighten my dress, take his offered hand and we start walking back towards the car. I don’t even tick him off. It’s fast becoming an everyday occurrence for him to hoof me about, whether it’s in private or in public.

‘We’ll grab some lunch at The Manor.’ he says as he puts my bags in the boot and then me in the car. He slides in beside me and gives me my smile before slipping his glasses on. ‘Enjoying your day so far?’

I was, until he reminded me about our need to go to The Manor. I’ve got to endure a whole night there too. ‘Absolutely.’ I can’t complain, though, as long as I’m with him.

‘Me too. Put your belt on.’ He starts the car and roars into the lunchtime traffic, cranking up the stereo and letting his window down so the whole of Knightsbridge gets a little listen of The Stereophonics, Dakota.





Chapter 19




Jesse skids to a halt outside The Manor where John is waiting for us on the steps. There are only a few cars, mine included. I forgot it was here.

‘Come on. I want to get done and get home so I can have a few hours of you all to myself.’ He grasps my hand and leads on.

‘Take me home now then.’ I grumble, earning myself a mild scowl.

‘I’m ignoring you.’ he mutters.

‘Ava,’ John nods as we pass, and then follows us in.

‘Is everything okay?’ Jesse asks as he leads me to the bar. It’s empty, except for the staff flying around in a fluster. He sits me down on a barstool and takes one opposite me, resting my hand in his lap. I spot Mario polishing the optics.

‘S’all good,’ John rumbles. ‘Caterers are in the kitchen and the band will be here at five to set up. Sarah has it all under control.’ He waves Mario over, and I bristle at the mention of her name.

‘Great, where is she?’ Jesse asks.

‘She’s in your office sorting out the gift bags.’

Gift bags? What would you put in a gift bag for a party at a sex club? Oh God, I don’t even want to know.

Mario approaches and swings his tea towel over his shoulder. His warm smile makes me return one automatically. He is the sweetest man.

‘Do you want a drink?’ Jesse squeezes my hand in his lap.

‘Just some water, please.’

‘Make that two, Mario,’ He turns back to me. ‘What would you like to eat?’

Well, that’s easy. ‘Steak,’ I say all wide eyed and enthusiastically. That was the best steak I’ve ever had.

He smiles. ‘Mario, tell Pete we’ll have the steak twice with new potatoes and salad, both medium. We’ll eat at the bar.’

‘Of course, Mr Ward.’ Mario chirps happily, placing two bottles of water and a glass on the bar.

‘Are you happy to stay here while I go and check on a few things?’ Jesse asks as he drops my hand in his lap and takes a bottle, pouring some water into my glass.

I arch an eyebrow at him. ‘Are you going to have Mario guard me?’

‘No,’ he says slowly, flicking a cautious eye at me. I hear John’s low rumbling laugh. ‘There’s no need now, is there?’

‘I suppose not,’ I shrug and look around the bar. ‘Where is everyone?’

He stands and places my hand in my own lap. ‘We close during the day on anniversary night. There’s a lot to get ready.’ He kisses my forehead and picks up his own bottle of water. ‘John?’

‘Ready when you are.’ John replies.

He brushes a hair away from my face. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can. Are you sure you’re okay here?’

‘I’m fine.’ I shoo him away.

They leave me at the bar among the chaos of staff, frantically polishing glasses and restocking the fridges. I feel like I should help, but then I hear my phone shouting from my bag and I pull it out, finding Ruth Quinn’s name illuminating my screen. I should let it go to voicemail, it is my day off, but this could be my opportunity to get out of drinks with her.

‘Hi, Ruth.’

‘Ava, how are you?’

She’s so friendly – too friendly. ‘I’m good, and you?’

‘Lovely. I received your fee structure and designs. They’re wonderful!’

‘I’m glad you like them, Ruth.’ Her enthusiasm will be a pleasure to work with, I suppose

‘So, now you’ve shown me how amazing my dire downstairs can look, I’m eager to start.’

‘Okay, well if you could settle the consultation fee, I’m assuming you’ve received the invoice, then we can crack on.’

‘Yes, I did. I’ll sort a transfer. Do you have the company bank details?’ she asks.

‘I don’t, Ruth. Could I ask you to ring the office? It’s my day off so I can’t lay my hands on them at the moment.’

‘Oh? I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’

‘It’s okay, Ruth. It was a last minute thing. It’s not a problem, really.’ I assure her.

‘Are you doing anything nice?’ she enquires.

I smile. ‘Yes, I am, actually. Just some quality time with my boyfriend.’ That sounds weird.

‘Oh.’

Silence falls down the phone. ‘Ruth? Are you there?’ I glance at my phone to see if my service has dropped. It hasn’t. ‘Hello?’

‘Yes, sorry. It’s just that you said there was no man.’ She laughs.

‘No man trouble. I meant to say there’s no man trouble.’

‘I see! Well, I’ll let you get back to your quality time.’

‘Thank you. I’ll call you next week and we can proceed.’

‘Great. Bye, Ava.’ She hangs up, and I instantly realise that I didn’t pull out of drinks. She didn’t confirm either, though.

I put my phone back in my bag and spot Mario on his way over with a box full of cocktail ingredients and fresh fruit. ‘Ava, are you well?’

‘I’m very well, Mario. And you?’

He heaves the big box onto the bar and I help him by pulling it towards me. ‘Very well too, would you be…’ He frowns. ‘How you say…guinea pig?’

‘Oh, yes!’ I sound way too eager. I love all that mixing, shaking and tasting business.

He chuckles and passes me a small chopping board and a paring knife. ‘You cut.’ he instructs, handing me a basket of various fruits from the box. I collect a strawberry, hull it and chop it in half. ‘Yes, this is good.’ Mario nods at me as he starts pouring various liquids into a large silver container.

I work my way through the whole pile of strawberries, popping them in a sealable container as I go, then start on the lemons. Mario sings some Italian opera style song softly as we sit at the bar, me watching with interest between my chopping duties as he measures, pours and generally faffs about with various cocktail equipment.

‘Now we do the good part.’ He smiles, slamming the lid on the silver container and proceeding to shake it. He flips it up and grabs it and then tosses it over his head, before spinning quickly to catch it. I’m stunned by his little demonstration of barman skills. I would never have thought it. He knocks the container on the side of the bar and pours the dark pink liquid into a long glass with some mint and a strawberry. ‘Voila!’ he sings, presenting me with the glass.

‘Wow!’ I gasp at the sugar coated rimmed glass. ‘What’s it called?’

‘This is Mario’s Most Marvelous!’ His voice gets higher towards the end of the name. He’s proud of it. ‘You try.’ He pushes the glass towards me, and I lean in to take a sniff.

It smells lovely, but I remember the last time Mario insisted I try one of his drinks; it burnt my throat. I pick up the glass tentatively as Mario nods eagerly at me. I shrug and take a little sip.

‘It is good, yes?’ He dazzles me with his happy face and starts putting the lids on all the tubs of fruit.

‘Yes!’ I take a longer sip. It’s delicious. ‘What’s in it?’

He starts laughing and shaking his head. ‘Ah, no, no. This, I tell no person.’

‘What have you got there?’ Jesse’s husky tone invades my ears from behind, and I swing around on my stool to see him stood behind me with his frown line firmly in place.

I hold the glass out and smile. ‘You should try. Oh my God!’ I glance up to the heavens to reinforce my point.

He recoils slightly, his frown deepening. ‘No thanks, I’ll take your word for it.’ He sits down next to me. ‘Don’t drink too much.’ He gives the glass a disapproving look.