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And Victoria?
Megan groaned mentally. Great image of the responsible teacher! She was certainly looking a little gimlet-eyed and upset. Probably considering her son’s options for changing schools even as she walked towards her.
‘You’re here!’ Megan trilled, plastering a delighted smile on her face. ‘Robbie said…’ she slapped his hand away from her waist ‘…you probably wouldn’t be able to make it…No nanny…chef having to work in someone else’s kitchen…Is Dominic…here…?’
‘My mother’s joining us for lunch,’ Victoria said stiffly, sidesteping Robbie to present Megan with an exquisite box of chocolates. ‘I thought it best to leave Dominic at home with her, playing with his toys, and of course, she can supervise Alessandro’s chef in the kitchen. We won’t stay long.’
‘But long enough for a drink, I hope!’ Robbie reinserted himself into the picture.
Victoria shook her head and looked at him coolly. ‘I don’t think so. We really are just popping in, and I wouldn’t want to…’
‘Don’t…’ Robbie told her, linking his arm through hers ‘…be such a crashing bore. There’s some punch lurking somewhere in the kitchen. You’re going to have a glass—or should I say a plastic cup…?’ He winked at Megan. ‘And why don’t you take care of our other guest, Megan? He looks as though he could do with a bit of loosening up….’
‘Quite an outfit.’ Alessandro skimmed his eyes lazily over her scantily clad body.
Not only was the dress ludicrously short and ludicrously red, it was also ludicrously revealing. Why was she bothering to wear it at all? he wondered. Unless it was to invite the male eye to follow the generous cleft of her cleavage down to the point where only someone with a stupendous lack of imagination wouldn’t be fantasising about what wasn’t on show.
‘And nice hair.’ He reached up and briefly twirled a few red strands between his fingers, so that she jerked back, out of reach. ‘Are you supposed to be a scarlet woman?’
‘Fancy dress. Of sorts. It’s just some cheap hair colour. Tomorrow I shall go back to being blonde. I didn’t expect to see you here.’
‘I think I’m going to need a drink to handle this…party….’
‘Sure. What would you like? There’s the usual stuff in the kitchen…’ She looked around desperately, to see if she could catch Robbie’s eye, but having played perfect host for the past two hours, he had now inconveniently disappeared. ‘I’ll fetch you something and introduce you round.’ She tugged the hem of her dress, as though by doing so she might lengthen it a couple of crucial inches.
‘This is just like your university parties, Megan,’ Alessandro said, following her towards the kitchen, his hands shoved into the pockets of his casually elegant and totally incongruous dark trousers. ‘Cheap booze, loud music…’
‘Are you telling me that I haven’t grown up?’ She spun round and glowered at him.
‘If the cap fits…’
‘You used to rather enjoy those university parties!’ She thrust a cup of punch into his hands and looked at him.
It was a clear, cold morning, and some of the guests had spilled out into the tiny garden, where they had put a rented patio heater in anticipation. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Robbie talking expansively to Victoria, who seemed to have made inroads into the drink she’d claimed she wouldn’t be having.
‘There’s a time and a place for everything.’ God, he realised he sounded a bore, but the sight of her literally being swept off her feet by a football coach in a pair of shorts had unsettled him. And he didn’t understand why. ‘Sure, getting drunk in cheap digs was fine seven years ago—but time moves on.’
‘These digs are far from cheap, let me tell you, and I am not drunk.’
‘You could have fooled me. Unless you just enjoy making a spectacle of yourself?’
Megan began doing something with paper plates and cutlery. ‘I don’t know why you came here, Alessandro. You think I’m immature and silly, and you think Robbie’s a loser.’ She turned to face him, balancing on both hands as she leant against the kitchen counter. ‘Why didn’t you go for champagne cocktails and canapés at one of your business colleagues’ houses? Where you could have had a civilised drink and talked about the world economy and politics, or the shocking price of houses in London and this year’s City bonuses?’
‘Because you wouldn’t have been there.’ Alessandro said it without thinking, and in the tight, ensuing silence he downed his drink, angry with himself for having spoken without thought. In fact, he hadn’t even realised that he had been thinking that until the words were out of his mouth and it had been too late to take them back.
