'What is it?'
'The general idea, as I understand things, is that you open it and find out for yourself.'
With a nervous smile, I turn, take the box and open it, letting out a sigh of relief when I catch sight of a pair of earrings: two silver pendants, each one fashioned into the shape of a sweat pea and centred with a pearl.
'They're beautiful.'
'I had them made.'
'But when did you find the time?'
'Where you're concerned, I always find the time. Lily put me in touch with a jeweller. I sent him a photo of the necklace and told him I wanted something to match.'
'When?'
'A couple of weeks ago. Not long after I met you.'
'I bloody love you, Dan.'
'And I bloody love you too. I'm going to make you the happiest woman on the planet. And I mean that.' He touches me on the cheek. 'Come here.'
Taking the box from my hand, he places it on a shelf in the wardrobe and picks out an earring. Coming back to me, he sets about threading the silver hook into my ear, glancing at me every now and then, clearly anxious not to hurt me. When he's finished with the left ear, the repeats the process with the right. And I watch, smiling at the intense concentration on his face, my heart flooding with warmth, my brain casually waving goodbye to any scrap of logic and sense. I've been charmed right to the verge of giving him a 'yes.' I'm about to open my mouth and agree to the maddest thing I've ever heard, when he finally straightens up.
'There.' He moves me round to face the mirror. 'We look like the people in those perfume adverts.'
I burst into a fit of giggles.
'And we need to go,' he adds. 'Our carriage awaits.'
***
A Rolls-Royce! I'm only sitting in a bloody Rolls-Royce! Ignoring the views as we glide across Lambeth Bridge and down the North Embankment, I stare at my surroundings, taking in the solid teak dashboard and the hand-sewn leather trims. When I'm finally done with staring, I play with the silver panel in my door, amazed when it opens gracefully at my touch, revealing a cigarette lighter and an ashtray. I close it again, switching my attention to the two rectangular units built into the leather roof lining, a control unit between them. Tempted beyond belief, I'm about to reach up and press one of the buttons above my head when I catch sight of Dan watching me, an amused grin on his face.
'Is this yours?'
He laughs. 'Don't be ridiculous. It's hired. I thought you deserved something a little special tonight.'
And shit, this is something a little special.
'You haven't done up your tie,' I remark.
He looks down.
'I hate these things.'
While he fiddles with the bow tie, I decide to ask for a little more detail about the function.
'This thing at the Savoy? Is this because of … you know … your past.'
He nods curtly, flipping one end of the tie over the other and letting out an exasperated sigh.
'Lily got involved with the foundation,' he mutters, 'and I've supported her with it for years.'
I watch in awe as he performs some sort of complicated folding and threading operation. As if by magic, a bow tie appears.
'Whatever else you think of her, she's got a good heart.' He straightens out the bow, runs an index finger across it, scowls and begins all over again. 'She hasn't worked a day in her life … but the Foundation keeps her busy, gives her something to do … and I suppose she does it because of me.'
An idea scratches at the inside of my head.
'Do you think she's in love with you?'
He breaks into a laugh, completes the bow, unravels it and starts again.
'Not likely. She's more like a sister.'
Eugh. Now, come on, considering what I know, that's a disgusting idea. I can't help it. I have to let him know.
'She told me she popped your cherry.'
'That woman needs a filter.' He grimaces. 'It was a long time ago. A drunken mistake. Neither of us want it to happen again.' Finally satisfied, he pats the bow. 'What do you think?'
'It looks like it's been done up by a two-year-old.'
'Touché, Miss Scotton.' His lips curl into a smile. 'We're here.'
The car takes a left, circling the end of a park and drawing to a halt outside the rear entrance to the Savoy. I've never been here before. I've never considered myself posh enough. And even now, dressed in an expensive gown and sitting in the back of a Rolls-Royce, I still don't.
A doorman steps forwards and opens the door on Dan's side.
'Stay where you are. Let's do this properly.'
While he gets out, I do as I'm told, waiting patiently for him to circle the car and open my door. A hand appears in front of my face. I slip my fingers into his, allowing him to help me out, but in spite of my best efforts, it's not exactly the most graceful of exits from a car. Grappling with the slit, I totter from side to side on the high heels.
'Steady now.' Wrapping an arm around my waist, Dan comes to my rescue. 'You're being papped. You don't want to show off your knickers.'
'What?'
Squinting into the flash of a camera, I'm temporarily blinded. With a few blinks, the scene finally comes into focus: a group of men standing by the edge of a red carpet, their faces obscured by cameras.
'Paparazzi?'
'They're here for the high society types.'
'Not us then.' I grin at a photographer. He eyes me up in return. 'Two nobodies from the East Coast.'
'We're not nobodies.' Dan places a hand at the base of my spine, and I tingle at his touch. 'Let's give them a pose.'
I have just enough time to tuck my hair into place and straighten out my dress before I'm tugged in by his side. The cameras flash again.
'Excuse me, mate,' a photographer calls. 'Give us your names, just in case you're anyone worth bothering with.'
I'm surprised when Dan obliges.
'Daniel Foster and Maya Scotton. I own Fosters Construction. Maya's an up-and-coming artist.' He begins to move away, pauses, turns back to the photographer and adds: 'And she's going to be my wife.'
'Dan,' I hiss.
'Come along, darling.'
Taking me by the hand, he leads me through a set of wooden revolving doors, up an incline and straight into a ballroom. We wait by the entrance and while Dan talks to an attendant, I take in the opulence of it all: the duck egg blue panels decorated with intricate stucco flowers; the arched doorways, each one containing a set of mirrored double doors; the swirling blues and golds of the carpet; a vaulted ceiling that curves above my head; six vast chandeliers spilling out a low, comfortable light. To my right, a small stage has been set up with a band's equipment while in front of me, I count about thirty round tables, all covered with a crisp white cloth, set with silver cutlery and an array of crystal glasses. The room's already full, swelling with expensive dresses and tuxedos: all the men dapper in their dinner jackets, the women brimming over with diamonds and self-confidence.
'Jesus,' I breathe, sensing a knot of anxiety in the pit of my stomach.
'You'll be fine,' Dan murmurs into my ear, taking my hand in his. 'Let's find Lily.'
As we push forwards into the room, I realise that we're being watched … or rather Dan's being watched. He's catching the eye of just about every woman in the place. One by one, they drop their conversations to watch him pass by … and I'm not at all surprised. On any normal day, he's absolute male perfection, but in a tux, he's something else. Every single female pair of eyes takes in the lean frame and the broad shoulders, the bright blue eyes, the tousled blond hair. And I just can't help it. A self-satisfied smile settles across my face because he's mine. One hundred percent mine. Suddenly, I feel giddy, totally giddy at the perfection of my life. But almost as soon as the feeling springs into life, I hear a familiar voice at the back of my head, warning me that it just can't last. It never does.
We've almost made it to the centre of the ballroom when the crowd parts, and we're suddenly standing with Lily.
'I'm so pleased to see you here, Maya.'
Taking me by the arms, she kisses me on both cheeks. And even though it's completely alien to me, I do the same in return.
'I'm pleased to be here.'
'You look absolutely stunning in that dress. What is it?'
I shrug. 'A dress?'
'Which designer?'
I shake my head. 'No idea.'
With a knowing smile, she takes a step back and holds out her arms. 'Daniel.'
He moves in for a quick embrace and pecks her on the cheek.
'How are you doing?' she asks.
'Never better.'
'Glad to hear it.'
'So what's the plan for tonight?'
'The usual. Dinner. Auction. Dancing.' She glances round the room, waves at somebody. 'I need you to do a bit of networking.'
He frowns. 'What, now?'
'Yes, now.' Ignoring Dan's grimace, she continues. 'For a start, you can get your backside over there and sweet talk Wallace.'
She motions towards a corpulent, red-faced man. In his mid-fifties perhaps, he's holding court at the centre of a group of women.
'In a bit.'
'No, now. For me. Please.' She runs a hand down his arm. 'You know you always charm him into making the biggest donation. And besides, I need a little word with Maya.'
Dan narrows his eyes at Lily.