Her line of vision was suddenly blocked by Olivier, who stood before them in a navy Gucci suit and sensible tie, his face ashen in the candlelight.
“Bad day at the office?” Joel joked in French, patting him firmly on the back.
Angelica watched him unbutton his jacket and sit down. He blew her a weary kiss. The table all began to talk at once. Angelica’s French wasn’t very good, but she wasn’t listening anyway. Her telephone vibrated with another message. I’m bored stiff. Wish I could sit with you! Without hesitation she typed back: They’re all speaking French! Mine is terrible. X She was exhilarated when he replied instantly: Meet me at ten by the restrooms. She lifted her eyes and bit her bottom lip. Yes.
The remainder of the meal passed in a blur. Every time she looked at her husband she could see Jack sitting behind him. They caught eyes once or twice, but Angelica was quick to look away, afraid that Olivier would notice and turn to see whom she was flirting with. Antoine and Roberto were old friends of Olivier’s, and, in spite of being charming and good-looking, they had the unattractive habit of speaking across her. She was weary of the financial crisis, but Antoine and Roberto both worked in the City and found the subject hard to resist. She rolled her eyes at Carla, Antoine’s wife, who was being ignored by Joel for the same reason. She glanced at her watch to see that it was nine-thirty. Half an hour to go, she thought impatiently, picking up her wineglass and taking a sip. Her stomach churned with nerves. A dish of grilled sole was put in front of her, but she didn’t feel hungry.
“Don’t you think you should leave your work in the office?” said Chantal to her husband.
“I apologize,” said Joel good-naturedly. “We’re boring the girls.”
“They might be bored to listen, but they are not too bored to spend,” said Roberto without humor.
Veronica, his wife, rose to their defense. “There is nothing more boring than not spending.”
“Darling,” Roberto cut in, his Italian accent comic, “it is worse than boring—it is a disaster. I predict that wives will take lovers when their husbands no longer make the money for them to whittle away.”
“You must think us all very shallow,” said Angelica stiffly. “Most women are,” Roberto continued. “I am afraid to say that a vast majority of women marry men for their money.”
“I married Antoine for his genes,” said Carla. “I needed to erase from the gene pool my father’s family’s famous nose. Antoine has the nose of a Greek god.” They all looked at Antoine, and he dutifully lifted his chin.
“I married Olivier because he is a good lover,” said Angelica, aware that she was about to deceive him.
Olivier preened. “What can I say, boys?” He laughed, the color now returning to his cheeks. “I might lose my money, but I’ll always be a good lover.”
Angelica glanced at her watch and placed her napkin on the table. “Excuse me,” she said, getting up. “Won’t be a minute.” As she passed Olivier, he took her hand.
“Where are you off to?”
“The ladies’.”
He pulled her down and whispered in her ear. “You’re the best-looking girl in the room.”
She glanced at Carla, Chantal, and Veronica, none of them famed for their beauty. “Not a great deal of competition,” she replied, then walked off in the direction of the powder room, too frightened to glance at Jack, who watched her go and placed his own napkin on the table.
She walked downstairs, unsteady with nerves, and stood there waiting, heart pounding with anticipation and fear. It wasn’t long before Jack appeared. Neither could contain their exhilaration at finding themselves in the same restaurant. “The Fates are on my side,” he said, drawing her into his arms and kissing her cheek. Her head spun, but she didn’t hurry to pull away.
“This is an incredible coincidence. Out of all the restaurants in London.”
“I love Harry’s. It reminds me of my misspent youth.”
“How much of it did you misspend?”
“Not enough.” He devoured her features from behind his glasses. “So are you going to meet me in the park tomorrow?”
“Don’t you have any work to do?”
“Sure, but when there’s a will there’s a way. Actually, I don’t have a meeting until the afternoon. Why don’t we walk around the Serpentine? A morning stroll. I like to be near water; it is good for the soul.”
Aware of the little time they had and reckless in his presence, she replied hastily. “Why not?”
“I’ll bring some bread for the birds.”