Thankfully, Jackson was standing a few inches away from me and there was no physical contact, which I knew would enflame Richard even more. Unless he'd been here a while he wouldn't have any evidence to suggest I was seeing someone and for all I knew, his girlfriend was living in the apartment that I was still paying a mortgage on.
Jackson and Simone turned to look at him, recognition immediately appearing on Jackson's face.
"Hi, I'm Simone Wood," Simone presented her hand, oblivious to who he was. "I'm the head chef and owner here. Thank you for coming to see us."
"I'm Richard Cole, the owner of Cole Henderson, the marketing company behind tonight's event," he said, and I realized at that point he was drunk. I wasn't going to make excuses for him or defend him in any way. He was an adult and I had been done trying to look after him more than a year ago.
"Oh," Simone said. "I'm sorry. I've only dealt with Vanessa and her team for the past nine months – is it only nine months? I feel like this restaurant has taken over my life!" She turned to me. "Vanessa's been wonderful. She does such a good job, not just with the marketing but dealing with people too. I will have to leave you to it, I'm afraid – I can see one of the blasted critics wants my attention."
"How are you doing, Richard?" I said, hoping no one could hear the booming of my heart.
"How the fuck do you think I'm doing after your fucking lawyer got in touch?" he said, glaring at me. "What the fuck are you trying to do? Ruin me? Isn't it bad enough that you've moved out? How do you think my father reacted to that?" His voice was low enough that only me and Jackson could hear and most of the guests were on their way out. I took a deep breath and waited for him to continue, knowing that there was no point in arguing back.
Jackson watched and listened, his hands in his pockets. His face was expressionless and I knew he was waiting to intervene. I hoped he didn't have to but at this point, I wasn't sure where I was going to get the energy to diffuse Richard without having an almighty argument.
"Now I'm having to get the business valued and the apartment. You've stopped me from taking money out of the Cole Henderson accounts – that's my money, Vanessa. I can have it if I want! If you've any sense you'll pack your shit up from that stupid friend's place and move back home and drop this silly, pathetic notion of buying me out. You're just a pretty face with a pair of tits; that's the only reason you've managed to bring in any business at all. Fucking dumb slut!" he necked back the spirit he'd been nursing which I guessed was brandy, his poison of choice as he said it was classier than whiskey.
"Okay, Richard," I said, stepping closer to him but not touching. "Here's what I think you should do: call a cab and get yourself back to the apartment where you live. Have lots of water and maybe some painkillers for a headache you're going to have in the morning. Spend the weekend thinking about what you want going forward into a future that is not, under any circumstances, going to involve me. Then on Monday morning, have a chat with your lawyer. We don't need to discuss anything because I don't think you will like anything I have to say. Shall I call you a cab?"
"I'm not fucking going anywhere until you're coming with me?"
"Where's the girl you were seeing? Charlotte? Will she come and pick you up?"
"She's at home."
"Where's home at the moment, Richard?"
"The apartment."
"So, Charlotte's at the apartment which is where you want me to go back to?"
He grinned. "We could have a threesome."
"No, Richard. I'm not coming back to the apartment with you, nor am I going to have a threesome with you and your girlfriend."
"You going to go home with this fucker?" He pointed to Jackson and swayed unsteadily on his feet.
"This is a potential client who is looking at using Cole Henderson for a marketing campaign. You need to think how you're acting right now and what damage you're doing to yourself and the firms you have an interest in. There's a lot of media about still," I said, knowing that this was potentially the best way to half sober him up.
Richard's eyes flickered up at Jackson. "Fuck. She's good. She's really good at all this marketing shit. I just own the business."
"You own just over half the business, I believe. And to all intents and purposes you're a sleeping partner," Jackson said. "I have full confidence in Vanessa but not in you, Mr. Cole. It's a good thing you aren't directly involved else you'd potentially be devaluing the business right now. Why don't you get yourself home?"
"Only if she comes home with me." Richard points to me. "She's mine, you know."
I saw Jackson look agitated and his jaw clench. "I don't think she wants to go home with you, Mr. Cole. Are you the type of man who forces a woman to do something they don't want?"
Richard shook his head lamely. "She wants to come home with me though. Don't you?"
"No, Richard. I don't." I looked up to where one of the security personnel Simone hired for the evening was standing, watching us with concern. I gave him a nod and he walked over calmly.
"Everything okay, Vanessa?" he said, his eyes watched Richard's every move.
"This is Richard Henderson. He lives on Townmead Road, Fulham and is completely intoxicated. Do you think you could get him in a cab home? If he resists I'd suggest calling the police," I said, keeping my voice emotionless. Inside I was raging, wanting nothing more than to shout and scream at Richard but I knew that wouldn't work even if he was sober.
"Come with me, sir," the security guard said, taking hold of his arm. "Let's get you a cab so you can start to sleep off the booze."
Jackson and I followed a few footsteps behind as Richard was escorted off the premises. We watched as security walked him to a waiting cab, Richard seemingly calm until he swung a right hook at the security guard, just as a police car had pulled over. Perfect timing.
