‘Really good!’ I said, enthusiasm pouring back into me. I sat up and pushed a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. ‘They’re really keen, and it all sounds great. I have the contracts and Charlie took me to see—’
‘Wait. You met Charlie?’
‘Yes. Well, it wasn’t planned. I bumped into him on the train this morning, so he knew about the meeting and called me afterwards to see how it had gone. He said he was just popping out for lunch so suggested a quick meet up. When I mentioned to him about the contracts, he came over all cynical businessman and insisted on getting them shown to a solicitor friend of his to check, and make sure they weren’t trying to take advantage of me.’
‘I see.’
‘No. You don’t see anything.’ I knew from Amy’s tone what she was hinting at. ‘There’s nothing between me and Charlie. I’m not his type and he’s too reserved for me. But as a friend, he’s lovely.’
‘Um hmm.’
‘Don’t start, Ames, please. I’ve got enough to contend with, with Dad and Gina and their Doctors’ Dating Service.’
‘Sorry, Libs. You know I’m just teasing. You have to admit that Charlie is pretty hot.’
‘Says the girl dating his brother. Classy.’
Amy laughed. ‘Oh, stop. I think you’re hot too, but I don’t want to clamber into bed with you either!’
‘I’m wounded. Anyway, we both know I don’t remotely fit into his type box.
‘You wore a suit today.’
‘Somehow I don’t think just changing my clothes is going to make that much of a difference. Besides, you know I’ve been there and done that when it comes to the whole Executive Type thing.’
‘You have to admit Charlie is different from most though,’ Amy prodded.
I paused. She was right. He was. ‘True. But he was also pretty clear about what he looks for and he’s never made the remotest move towards me so can we just put a lid on this forever, please?’
‘Fine, fine. Tell me about this deal.’
I lay back on the down-filled pillow and told Amy all about the meeting, finding my own excitement building even more at her enthusiasm. By the time we’d hung up, the headache was almost gone and I was back to feeling more like my bubbly self. I pushed myself up out of bed and, ignoring the hotel-style slippers placed strategically by the bed each side, padded over to the dressing table and sat down on the stool. Hmm, not the best. My hair was a bit of scare-fest and my eye make-up was smudged yet again. Time for some major repairs. I pulled my bag over and set to work.
* * *
Dad paid the cabbie whilst Gina and I waited by the restaurant. Tucked discreetly in a corner of the West End, it didn’t announce its presence, merely quietly resided. It had no need for flashiness. The owner was the youngest chef to ever have been awarded two Michelin stars – its quality spoke for itself. The door was opened for us, Dad stated his name, and we were immediately shown to our table. Having a father who had saved many a wealthy life in his time had its benefits. Dad mentioned that we were awaiting a fourth. The waiter nodded, and a few minutes later a man was shown over to our table.
‘Anthony! So glad you could make it.’
‘Joseph. Good to see you. Thanks for inviting me.’
Dad made the introductions. ‘This is my partner, Gina.’ Gina smiled warmly and took his offered hand. Her eyes didn’t leave his face and it looked as if he were being sized up as an appetiser. I’d worried for Dad about this quirk initially until I came to realise that it was just her way. She was crazy about Dad, I knew. The whole vamp thing was just… well, just Gina.
‘And my daughter, Libby.’ The new arrival and I shook hands. A look passed between us that said, ‘Well, this isn’t awkward at all.’
The evening passed pleasantly enough, and Dr DiMarco seemed a nice enough chap, but it was clear that he had as little interest in being set up as I did. When Dad stepped out to take a call, and Gina conveniently excused herself at the same time, I turned to Anthony.
‘I’m so sorry about all of this.’
‘What’s that?’ he said, being terribly British and pretending that everything was just as it should be.
I gave him a look and a smile. He waited a beat and then returned it. ‘It’s all right. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure your dad means well, for both of us.’
‘Quite.’
‘And the food’s been delicious! I’m just not really looking…’
‘No! No, it’s fine! I’m not either! My father seems to think I should be, though.’ I pulled a face.
