"Shit," Max said, forgetting the lyrics to the song. He and Lauren had dated for a few weeks. After he ended it she'd stalked his social media accounts and made various derogatory comments that I'd always responded to with appreciation.
"Maybe we could ask her if you managed to move on from missionary," Claire said, the expression on her face the same as when she'd been nine and had tied a large ribbon around Max's neck while he'd been asleep.
Max passed me another beer and asked the bartender for a whiskey. "Let's just pretend we haven't noticed her," he said, turning his back away from where Lauren was standing. Claire and Vanessa walked away to sit with the rest of Claire's team and I watched as Vanessa smiled at something someone had said, her face lighting up and I didn't recognize the feeling that had just stabbed my gut.
"You okay?" Max said, looking at me curiously. "I wouldn't have recited the lyrics to 'Closer', you know. She didn't need to know you wanted to fuck her like an animal."
"Thanks, Max," I said. "And I'm fine. It's just been a busy, weird week."
He nodded. "At least Payton's back. I've gotten used to Callum being away but it's felt strange not having her around. And you seem to have someone to keep your thoughts occupied." He nodded towards Vanessa.
I shrugged. "Maybe. I think she might be interested. Keep it to yourself though, I don't need to be asked about weddings by Marie just yet," I said. Our step-mum was desperate for someone to get married.
"I'd say she's interested. She keeps looking over at you." Max flicked his eyes towards the door and I figured he was indeed waiting for a pre-arranged hook up with one of his stable of professors.
"I'm going to see if Vanessa wants to go get some food."
"So, she is your lady?" he said, giving me the grin that never failed to make me want to hit him.
"I don't think she'd like being called anybody's lady," I said, leaving him at the bar. My older brother was my best friend, but that didn't mean he couldn't irritate the shit out of me on regular occasions.
Vanessa left her chair as I approached. "You have good taste in cocktails," she said, showing me her empty glass. "It was zingy and not too sweet. I'm impressed."
I grinned, I was doing something right at least. "You still up for taking me to a restaurant where they have prissy food?"
She put the glass down and slipped away from the table where Claire was leading a heated discussion on contraceptives. Not something I wanted to be part of as whatever I contributed will be wrong. "How about Padella? It might not be prissy enough for you?"
"Padella's great if we can get a table." It was one of my favorite restaurants, an Italian with amazing pasta. I was half hoping we couldn't get a seat and we'd get takeout instead, then I could take her back to my place. But something told me a kiss would be as far as we'd get tonight; she was in a grey area, not sure where we stood given we'd be working together for the next couple of months. I should've been in that grey area too, but the arrogant bastard inside had determined I should have whatever I want.
I rested my hand on the small of her back as we pushed our way through the crowd to the door. It was busy and loaded with people, the sun had brought everyone out for the evening and I didn't want to lose contact with her. It felt right; maybe I was staking my claim as she looked amazing and kept drawing the eyes of other men, but more than anything I needed to feel that warm skin under my fingers.
Padella was busy, but a table became free as we entered, a rowing couple leaving before they'd ordered. The same buzz that was outside had continued in here; the atmosphere was thick with laughter and alcohol and food. Vanessa ordered a red wine and I stuck with beer, aware I was on Gran chauffeuring duty in the morning.
"What are your plans once Richard's completely out of the way?" I said, wanting to know how she saw her future. I was trying to stay away from analyzing my own thoughts; I'd known her less than two days and could fill the back of a standard envelope with what I actually knew about her.
"Relaunch the company, either through renaming it or setting it up from scratch. Richard knows that without me, there is no Cole Henderson. He doesn't know how to market and the people employed there now would follow me, as would current clients." She looked cautious. "I hope."
"We'd stay with you," I said. "I know our internal marketing and PR needs reorganizing and we need to approach the media in a different way. If the rebrand is successful we could be looking at a longer contract." I had to put the firm first, even if it compromised what else I'd like to do with her.
"You have untapped resources that would help boost your appeal," she was almost hesitant as she spoke, fingering the menu.
"Like what?" I already knew what I was having. It was a small menu, all made fresh including the pasta.
"You. And your siblings." She put the menu down. "It wouldn't hurt to have you in a few magazine articles – upmarket ones. A couple of the women's publications would be up for an interview with Claire and Payton. Given how photogenic you, Max and Seph are it would be a good way to widen your appeal without dumbing down what you do."
I wasn't sure about this. Over the years there had been enough publicity about us personally without us courting it now.
"They'll be interested in the retirement ball. Kirsty said she'd already been contacted byHellofor it to be featured." Our drinks arrived. Vanessa took a sip then licked around her lips. I stifled a groan.
"Kirsty didn't agree, did she?" I didn't trust Kirsty. She'd interviewed extremely well and came with good references but there was something there which I couldn't identify.
Vanessa shrugged and twirled her wine. I'd realized that she was rarely still, both physically and mentally. "She's not said. I have a feeling she's agreed to something or she's in the process of agreeing to something. I have a contact atHello– I'll try to find out."
I took a long drink of my beer. The conversation needed to move away from work and although there did need to be a discussion about coverage of the retirement ball and further media involvement it didn't need to be on a Friday night. "Let me know when you do." We gave our orders to the waiter; sourdough and olives to share as a starter, with fettuccine for both of us as mains. The food here was great. "Where do you see yourself living after your apartment's been sold?"
"When Richard agrees to sell it," she said, smiling wryly. "He won't even entertain the idea of getting it valued. In fact, he tried to lock my clothes away so I couldn't move out."
"What did you do?" I was struggling to not pay Richard a visit and break his nose.
