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‘Good afternoon,’ I say brightly as I climb in and put my seatbelt on.
‘Hello, stranger,’ he replies. ‘Someone is excited for where we’re going today. And you’re looking great – again.’
‘I really am excited,’ I reply. I don’t mention that it’s because I’ve missed him. Inspired by the response to my last attempt at a sexier look, today I’ve opted for another sexy-ish dress – a black one that is lower and also higher (in different parts, obviously) than anything he’s seen me in before. I know, I know, I said that sex with Rocco was the last thing on my mind, I don’t know why I’m trying to edge myself in that direction when I know it’s really not a good idea.
‘Me too,’ he says. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this one for a while.’
A quick glance over the event attendees earlier confirmed that it’s a completely different crowd, none of the usual suspects apart from me and Rocco. Perhaps the idea of an Eiffel Tower party doesn’t appeal – well, it makes sense that a French-themed gathering might sound a bit boring, when your usual idea of fun is boozy bingo and disco bowling.
Oh, it’s at a house, I wasn’t expecting that. A detached property behind a big wooden gate. I wish I’d known it was a party someone was throwing at their home; I would have picked up a bottle of wine or something.
The electric gate opens for us. Ooh, we must be somewhere fancy. Now I really am excited. It will be nice to do something classy – not that I think I’m classy, but it’s nice to pretend, isn’t it?
‘Right, let’s do this,’ I say excitedly.
‘After you,’ Rocco replies.
I head up the pathway, to the front door, before knocking the large golden pineapple doorknocker. There’s a sign on the wall that says Pampas House, what a beautiful name.
‘Hello, hello,’ a woman in a silky red wraparound dress says as she greets us. She has a half-empty glass of champagne in one hand, extended out by her side. Her eyes light up at the sight of new guests. ‘Are you from the app?’
‘We are,’ Rocco replies.
‘Fabulous,’ she says. ‘We’re always keen to make younger friends.’
I’d guess the woman is in her forties. She looks great with her hair tied up in a bun on the back of her head. Classy is, again, the word that springs to mind.
‘Come through to the kitchen, let’s get you some drinks,’ she insists. ‘I’m Lu, my husband is Nigel, if I can grab him while he isn’t busy, I’ll introduce you properly.’
The kitchen is huge, but there isn’t a soul in there apart from us.
‘Champagne?’ Lu asks us.
‘Yes, please,’ I reply.
‘I’m driving,’ Rocco tells her. ‘Anything soft.’
‘You won’t find anything soft in this house,’ Lu practically cackles. ‘Here, have a champers. You’ll just have to stay a while, and work it off before you drive. We’ll be putting out the food later too. Back in a mo, need to grab another bottle.’
God, work it off? Nothing will ruin a party like my dancing. I can clear a room.
‘No worries,’ I reply.
I’m sure, if we stay a while and have something to eat, that Rocco will be fine with one glass, he’s a big guy. I never had him down as a dancer at parties, though. I wonder what makes Lu thinks he’s the type.
‘Are you much of a mover?’ I ask him.
‘I can be when I get going,’ Rocco replies. ‘Ironically, the drink helps, so I should level out in the middle.’
‘Right, here we go,’ Lu says. She hands me a glass. ‘So, head down the hallway, everyone is scattered around the rooms, feel free to go where you please. And I will see you both later. Just waiting on a few more guests.’
‘Okay, brilliant,’ I reply.
Now that we’re out of the car, I can see Rocco’s outfit. He’s always such a sharp dresser (even when he’s shirtless and wearing his coat, he looks great, although we all know why I think that) and today is no exception. I feel like he’s put the extra effort in too, in a pair of black trousers and crisp white shirt. I don’t know what his aftershave is, but it always leaves me feeling a little drunk. It isn’t strong at all, but it smells delicious. I get these little bursts of it when I’m around him and it never quite seems to wear off, whereas my own perfume always seems to have evaporated into thin air before I’ve even left the house.
‘This is a gorgeous house,’ Rocco says as we head back into the hallway. ‘It’s got so many of its original features. I love how true to its origins they’ve kept the décor.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ I echo. ‘I think th— ow!’
