A very Corporate Affair 2(16)

Thankfully the starters hadn't arrived at that point, and we hadn't kept anyone waiting. Ivan picked up the card listing the auction lots, and leaned in so we could both read it.



Lot 1 A weekend in New York, courtesy of Hilton hotels



Lot 2 A one week stay in the Red Sea resort of Sharm El Sheik, courtesy of Four Seasons Hotel Group



Lot 3 A spa weekend for two, courtesy of Champneys.



Lot 4 A dinner party for six, catered in your home by chefs from Gordon Ramsey, Claridges.



Lot 5 Dinner with Stephen Fry



Lot 6 Lunch with Lord Sugar



Lot 7 A private tour, and lunch at the House of Lords, with Lord Golding.



Lot 8 A helicopter flight over London, courtesy of Battersea Helicopters ltd.



Lot 9 A weekend in Paris, courtesy of Eurostar.



Lot 10 A one year subscription to Quintessentially yours, courtesy of Quintessentially yours.



Ivan pulled a biro out of his inside pocket, and ticked the weekend in New York, the concierge subscription, the helicopter flight, and the spa weekend. "Anything you want?" He asked. I shook my head. He poured me a glass of wine, and tucked his pen back in his pocket. "Are you ok now?"

"Yeah, I'm ok," I said unconvincingly. I was starting to relax again, and the threatened tears had disappeared. Ivan patted my hand, and started speaking to the woman next to him, who looked delighted.

The actor next to me leaned in, "so do you work?"
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"Yes, I'm a corporate lawyer."

"Oh wow, I'm playing a lawyer in a new series being filmed in the autumn. You can give me some pointers on how I should act." He droned on all through the starter, and into the main course. Thankfully he was interrupted by the lady seated next to Ivan, who leaned over to compliment my outfit, stating that she loved my dress.

"She looks beautiful doesn't she?" Ivan said to her. She nodded in agreement, and smiled warmly. "I must introduce the two of you, "Joan, this is my girlfriend Elle, a corporate lawyer at Pearson Hardwick. Elle, this is Joan Lester, managing director of Conde Nast." I leaned across Ivan and shook her hand.

As our main courses arrived, she said, "I'll talk to you later, I need an acquisitions expert, and Ivan has recommended you." She pulled a business card out of her clutch, and passed it to me. "If I don't get a chance, call me next week, and we'll have lunch."

The auction began after dinner. We turned around to face the stage, and I immediately spotted Oscar and Dascha sitting two tables in. Their body language indicated they'd had a row, both leaning away from each other. Oscar looked extremely pissed off.

Ivan didn't bid early on, in any of the lots, coming in at the end, and easily outbidding his competitors. The last lot on offer was the subscription to Quintessentially yours, an upmarket concierge service. Both Ivan and Oscar began to bid for it, the price edging higher and higher, with neither willing to give in. A bit horrified, I touched Ivan's arm, and getting his attention, shook my head. A public pissing contest between two billionaires was nothing more than a circus show for the room. Thankfully Ivan backed down, and Oscar won the lot. For the first time that evening, he looked mildly pleased.

"Why did you stop me?" Ivan asked.

"Because it was just a pissing contest, and it was giving everyone in the room a 'my dicks bigger than your dick' show." Ivan roared with laughter.

"You, my darling, are priceless, and so very clever." He kissed the tip of my nose.

The band started up, so we moved to the bar. Ivan had to get a member of his security team to fetch the drinks, as he seemed to be mobbed at every step. It seemed as though every man wanted to be his best friend, and every woman wanted to flirt. He kept his arm firmly clamped around my waist, and made a point of introducing me to everyone as his girlfriend. Oscar and Dascha kept their distance, although I did catch Oscar staring rather wistfully at me, his eyes travelling down to the red Jimmy Choos on my feet.

Paul Lassiter came over to say hello, and after kissing the back of my hand, prompting a scowl from Ivan, proceeded to chat to Ivan for ten minutes about executive search.

At eleven, Ivan leaned down and whispered in my ear, "ready to leave? I really want to get you alone." I nodded. We said our goodbyes, and flanked by security, swept out of the Grosvener and into the waiting car.

"Are we going back to my place?" I asked.

"No. Sussex. It won't take long at this time of night."

"Shouldn't you have asked me first, rather than assume?"

"Ok, will you come back to Sussex with me tonight?"

"Yeah ok," I replied, rather sulkily. The mood really didn't feel right for making love. I felt edgy and off centre. Ivan pressed a button to raise the privacy screen.