‘Yes, well, Rosemary and I decided to throw a little party to extend JBW’s felicitations to the happy couple.’
‘That’s so nice of you.’ Unfortunately, my response is not quite as believable as Beckett’s. Over Mark Jones’ head, Beckett’s brow quirks a fraction.
‘Come along now. Let everyone see the happy couple.’ Like monkeys in a zoo
‘Everyone?’ I ask, trying ot to respond to the looks thrown our way.
‘Staff, associates, the odd investor,’ Jones responds, not missing the proprietary hand Beckett places on the small of my back. Or the way he smiles down at me with such naked adoration, pressing a small kiss to my hairline.As though he just couldn’t resist.
Warmth floods my treacherous system, blurring the lines just a little bit more.
‘Ah, young love. How delightful.’ I don’t think I imagined the way his eyes just ran over my tits. ‘Young definitely, but I believe there’s quite a gap in your ages, isn’t there? You went to university with my stepson, Olivia, I think.’
I think you know this without my confirmation, Mark, old buddy, old pal.
‘That’s right. How is Luke?’ The total shit.
‘Very well. I’m to be a grandfather soon, though I feel far too young for that title.’ If that was our cue to soothe his ego, the moment comes and goes unremarked upon.
‘Is Luke here tonight?’ Beckett enquires.
‘No. He had other plans. Young people. Always gadding about, I find.’ Mark Jones, the home version, is very different from Mark Jones, the city version. But I can roll with it for the evening as junior partner in this plan.
‘What a pity.’ Nowthatsounded sincere. Go me.
‘Rosemary, look who I’ve found.’
Up ahead, a group of women all turn at our approach, Mark Jones slinking along to stand next to a very attractive woman of an indeterminable age. Long beige-blond hair, the woman could be Elle Macpherson’s doppelganger. Oozing wealthy and sophistication, she dangles a glass of red wine from her fingertips. The women standing around her haven’t had the same kind of luck with their own plastic surgeons, unfortunately. But they do seem to have a lot of diamonds to compensate for that fact.
‘Beckett. How lovely to see you.’ Not Australian, judging by her very English accent, so not actuallytheElle, but beautiful all the same in the same timeless way the supermodel has.
‘Rosemary.’ Beckett replies with barely a whisper of warmth in his tone. Is it me or is there a weird vibe between these two? A tension almost, as she stares at him oblivious to how awkward this is. ‘Allow me to introduce you to my wife, Olivia. Olivia, Rosemary, Mark’s wife.’
‘And Luke’s mother,’ she adds, holding out her hand. Check out the heavy emphasis there.
‘It’s lovely to meet you. Thank you so much for hosting tonight.You’re very kind.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Beautiful and Botoxed to the max, her expression barely alters as she replies.
‘You have a beautiful home.’
‘Thank you.’ I see the woman has perfected the art of smiling without actually moving anything. ‘And congratulations to you both.’ Without giving up her glass, she steps closer, and with an arm languidly draped over Beckett’s shoulder, she kisses both his cheeks before repeating the action with me, bending from the waist and making a point of the disparity in our heights. But, hey, I’m not the one who married a troll.A rich troll is still a troll.
‘And how is married life treating you?’ she purrs, her gaze pinging back and forth between us.
‘In a word, wonderful,’ Beckett replies, his gaze cast to mine. ‘If only I could’ve found you sooner.’
I find myself blushing,my hand suddenly splaying across the flat planes of his torso as Rosemary’s eyes track the movement.
‘That’s right. You two haven’t known each other very long,’ her husband booms in assertion.
‘I defy anyone to take longer than a few hours to fall in love with Olivia.’
‘How sweet.’ Her strangled expression suggests the opposite, and judging by her figure, sweet isn’t something she indulges in. Ever.
‘But darling, they don’t have drinks,’ she rebukes, affecting a pout.
‘We must certainly rectify that!’
