I wish I had cameras set up in the house to record their dance routine. I can only imagine. If Ronan’s one thing, it’s game for a challenge. I don’t doubt he’s prancing around with them now, indulging their every whim.
I hover waiting to be shown to the table, soaking up the opulent ambience, high ceilings, intricate chandeliers, and more candles than a Yankee Candle factory. The tables are set with crisp linens, delicate tableware and sparkling silverware that catches the light of the evening sun shimmering through huge sash windows.
I smooth down my dress and smile as the Maitre d’ asks for my reservation details before leading me to a private booth.
Lucas Beechwood is already waiting, menu in one hand, glass of champagne in the other. His jaw is square and strong, his cheekbones chiselled, and his long straight nose one the Romans would have been proud of.
He stands when I arrive, his frame athletically lean and lithe. Chocolate brown hair flops into his hazel eyes. He rakes it back with thick fingers before extending his hand to shake mine.
‘Savannah, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person.’ He flashes a killer smile, a testament to years of expensive orthodontics. ‘Please sit. I took the liberty of ordering champagne.’
‘Thank you.’ I slip into the velvet trimmed booth and pick up a crystal flute that’s waiting for me.
‘When Susie told me you accepted our offer, I was desperate to meet you.’ He sucks in his lower lip as his eyes roam over my face like he can’t quite figure me out.
‘Thank you… I guess.’ I raise my glass to his in a toast. ‘I’m excited to represent Coral Chic. I’m a huge fan of the range,’ I admit, placing my glass on the table and running a finger up its stem.
‘I think you’re the perfect fit.’ His gaze flicks to my dress,then up again. ‘You’re a fantastic role model for women. Wholesome. Hard working. The fact you’re raising twin girls on your own is admirable.’ His lips slant upwards in a smile. ‘And if you don’t mind me saying, the fact you’re absolutely stunning is really going to further the brand.’
Is he hitting on me?
Or just being nice?
Now I’m almost thirty, am I emitting some sort of weird pheromones that attract gorgeous, successful men? Or maybe I’m just noticing them more because my biological clock is ticking.
It’s true. “A baby would be nice…”
No matter how many times I try to quieten it, to tell it we’re done, that I have two beautiful girls and I doubt I could cope with any more, the thought leaps up like a Pop-Tart.
Mother Nature seems to have erased the memory of the traumatic sleepless nights.
The teething.
The ear infections.
The reflux.
Yep – she’s one hell of a force to be reckoned with.
I flash Lucas my most professional smile, taking in his expensive tailored suit, crisp white shirt, and chunky Swiss watch. ‘Thank you.’
‘Did you bring the contract?’ His upturned palm reaches across the table.
I pull out the paperwork from my cream, oversized Mulberry handbag. ‘I did. Sorry I didn’t sign it quicker.’
‘No problem. The male ambassador we’ve chosen has yet to return his either.’ He shrugs, like it’s no big deal.
‘Male counterpart?’ It’s the first I’ve heard of it.
‘Yes, it made sense to film the ‘his ‘n’ hers’ range simultaneously. We’ll get footage of you individually for the twodifferent campaigns, then film you together before we wrap up.’
‘Oh.’ It makes sense, I guess. ‘Who is the male model?’
‘Until he signs, I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss that. He’s driving a hard bargain.’ He frowns for a second, then sits up straighter. ‘Oh, gosh, that came out wrong. I don’t mean financially. His contract is identical to yours. Coral is firmly committed to equality.’
My skin pricks, but I say nothing. Seeming to take my silence as disbelief, Lucas blurts out, ‘Your male counterpart wants me to invest in his business as he starts up in Dublin. A partnership could be mutually beneficial but to be honest,’ he lowers his voice, ‘I’m not one hundred percent convinced about him. On paper, he’s squeaky clean, the perfect role model, but he gives off this vibe.’ Lucas shakes his head, more to himself than me. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you all this.’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.’ I take another sip of champagne, my mind wandering. As a former competitive swimmer, Ronan would be the perfect choice, but I don’t know if I’d like to work with him or if it would be yet another temptation that could land me in trouble.
