“Another doctor?”
“Why, yes.” Bella’s brain must have re-engaged because it comes out as a purr.
“Have you enjoyed it?”
“Very much. It was highly informative.”
Anna suppresses a snort. She doubts Bella attended even half the sessions.
“Come.” Tolly steps to the side, one arm held out shepherding Bella, then Anna ahead of him. As she passes, Anna feels a light touch on her lower back. She is acutely aware of it burning through the thin fabric of her dress. It is fleeting, almost accidental. Meant to guide, not claim, she reminds herself.
Music and light lead them onwards. Black-clad waiters with empty trays stand aside as they pass, threading their way along a garden path lit with a tunnel of rope lights. Bella stops suddenly and Anna steps to her side. A vista of Los Angeles lies before them. Tiny lights twinkle from millions of homes. Moving beacons mark a distant highway. A line of sudden dark delineates land and sea. A sparkling cluster might be the Santa Monica pier. Anna can only imagine how beautiful it is here when the sun sets. Tolly stands behind her. No part of him touches her skin, but she is preternaturally aware of the sense of him.
“What a stunning view,” she says. She partly turns her head to address him. “If I lived here, I would breakfast on this terrace every morning.”
“I’m ashamed to say I’ve never done that,” he confesses.
A waiter emerges from the shadows with a tray of champagne glasses. Anna declines, but Bella takes two. Tolly shakes his head and the waiter disappears again. Anna turns away from the vista. The terrace is bounded by an infinity pool, the water shimmering a deep jade-green, lit underwater. The surface is smooth, unrippled by the slight breeze. The party is taking place on the other side, closer to the house. The wall of glass is slid back to allow guests to flow freely inside and out. There is a top deck, but it is all in darkness, although light floods from the ground-floor rooms. Further away from the building, pillars topped with exotic-looking plants shoot ice white beams to the stars. Groups of people are dotted around, some chatting, some laughing, some plainly getting high.
“Now that looks like fun.” Bella points across the water with her empty flute. She tips her head back and shakes her tresses. Her hands lift. “I’m in the mood to P-A-R-T-Y!” She gives another little shimmy. “If you don’t mind me saying, you need a little energy there. No one is dancing.”
She is right. Although a little gathering of scantily clad women snakes their hips and shuffles their feet in time to the music, no one is dancing with outright abandon. Yet.
“Be my guest.” Tolly places his palm out, as if inviting Bella to move. With one intense glance at Anna, Bella is gone, strutting towards the dance floor. So much for Bella being an anchor.
They skirt the edge of the pool. The music is playing loud enough for Anna to feel the pull of the beat but not loud enough to prohibit conversation. As soon as Tolly emerges into the light, a man steps forwards to talk to him. Anna understands. This is his party and he is the star. She moves away to leave him to his guest, but a hand lands on her hip. The contact is a shock. Shestops and turns towards him. He shakes his head but lifts his hand. She waits.
“Great party,” the tanned man says, flashing white teeth. He sounds sincere but he’s wearing a suit jacket and shows no sign of party fervour. “But I must be off. Let my office know if you need anything, yes?” He shakes Tolly’s hand, one hand in his hand, one hand on his shoulder. A power move.
Tolly nods. “Will do. And thanks, Governor.”
“Who is he?” Anna asks, head on one side as the intruder moves away. The man looked vaguely familiar.
“The Governor of California,” Tolly says it evenly. There is no awe and no hint of a boast. So different to John.
“That explains it,” she says.
“Explains what?”
“Why do all American politicians look like they’ve been dipped in embalming fluid?” She shakes her head.
Tolly laughs. “Whereas ours frequently look like they’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards?”
“I fear ours will go the same way. Where America leads, we tend to follow. They’ll all be primped and plucked with suspiciously even teeth. Style over substance.”
“Not a fan of politicians?” Tolly asks.
“I work in a hospital. What do you think?”
“Point taken.”
An older woman in a scarlet dress with a neckline cut to her waist interrupts them. The new arrival drops her hand onto Tolly’s bicep, neatly cutting out Anna. “Darling,” she drawls. “Fabulous news.”
Tolly very deliberately turns his body to face Anna. “Thanks, Crystal. This is my friend Anna. From London. If you will excuse us, I was just giving her a tour.”
Crystal departs, plainly a little nettled. Anna hopes she is not someone important.
“Were you a tad rude there?” She leans her head closer to Tolly’s so no one else can hear. It feels good to be this close to him, to feel the warmth of his body, to smell his indefinable cologne. Anna realises it is probably bespoke, made only for him by some ancient perfume house in France.
