Part 8 (2/2)

'I've not seen it complete. I bet it's incredible.'

'It is, go and take a look. I'm going to get myself ready in the spa. I've done everything in the other apartments so concentrate up here. This is where the action will be. Make sure all the cus.h.i.+ons are plumped and in place. I want the peppers on the chopping boards s.h.i.+ny. Use Pledge! The mini Dyson is here. Hoover up any stray bits on the bedroom carpets,' I hand her the fully charged, hand held hoover. 'Just use your initiative. If there's anything you're not sure of, make a note. Okay?'

She grabs the hoover from me. 'I love these things.' she revs the Dyson, posing like a cowboy in a standoff.

'How old are you?' I ask on an eye roll.

She screws her face up, grins and sets off to follow through on my instructions.

An hour later, after utilising all of Lusso's fancy spa facilities, I'm ready. My dress is creaseless and my hair is behaving. I take a little wander around. This will be my last time here, and it will soon be crowded with business people and high society, so I make the most of my last opportunity to savour the sheer magnificence of the place. It's mind-blowing. I still can't believe this is my work. I smile to myself as I stand in the colossal open s.p.a.ce on the first floor. Bi-folding doors lead to an L shaped terrace, with limestone paving, a decked area, sun loungers and a huge Jacuzzi. There's a study, dining room, a huge archway leading into a ridiculously large kitchen, and a back-lit onyx staircase that rises to the four en-suite bedrooms and a ma.s.sive master suite. The spa, fitness centre and swimming pool, on the ground floor of the building, are exclusive to the residents of Lusso, but the penthouse boasts its own gym. It's stunning. Whoever's brought this place definitely likes the finer things in life and for a cool ten million, they've got it.

I make my way back to the kitchen and find Victoria, still armed with the Dyson.

'All done,' she declares as she hoovers up a stray crumb on the marble worktop.

'Well, let's drink.' I smirk and pick up two gla.s.ses of champagne, handing one to Victoria.

'Here's to you, Ava. Stylish in body and in mind,' She giggles, raising her gla.s.s in a toast. We both swig and sigh. 'Wow! This is good.' She looks at the bottle.

'Ca'Del Bosco, Cuvee Annamaria Clementi, 1993. It's Italian, of course.' I raise my brow and Victoria giggles again.

I hear chatter coming from the entrance hall, so I wander out of the kitchen, finding Tom gawping like a goldfish and Patrick smiling proudly.

'Ava, this is some serious special, darling!' Tom runs at me, throwing his arms around my body. He pulls back, looking me up and down. 'Love the dress. Very tight.'

I wish I could say the same for Tom, who takes colour clash to extreme levels. I squint at his bright blue s.h.i.+rt and red tie combo.

'Put the girl down, Tom. You'll crease her,' Patrick grumbles, gently shoving him aside and leaning down to peck me on the cheek. 'I'm very proud of you, flower. You've done a marvelous job, and between me and you a' He leans into my ear and whispers. 'The developer has hinted they want you on board for the next project in Holland Park.' He winks at me, his wrinkled face wrinkling further. 'Now, where's that champagne?'

'This way,' I lead them into the huge kitchen, hearing more cooing from Tom. The place really is that special.

'Cheers!' I chant, after handing them all a gla.s.s of champagne.

'Cheers!' They all raise their gla.s.ses.

I spend a few hours being introduced to high society and explaining my inspiration behind the design. Journalists from architecture and interior magazines swan around taking photographs and generally poking about. Much to my displeasure, they hustle me onto velvet chaise lounge for a shot. Patrick drags me from pillar to post, proclaiming his pride and insisting, to anyone that will listen, that I've single handedly put Rococo Union on the designers map. I blush profusely, repeatedly playing down his declarations.

I'm thankful when Kate shows up. I usher her into the kitchen, thrusting a gla.s.s of champagne in her hand and take another for myself.

'Bit posh, eh?' she muses, gazing around the plush kitchen. 'It makes my place look like a cluttered mess.'

I laugh at the referral to her cute, homely town house that looks like Cath Kidston has vomited, sneezed and coughed all over it. 'You mean impressive, I'm sure.'

'Yes, that too. I couldn't live here though.' she says with no shame at all. I'm not offended. While I'm proud of the finished result, the sheer vastness of the place intimidates me.

'Me either.' I concur.

'I saw Matt earlier.' She downs her champagne, immediately scooping up another from a tray as a waiter pa.s.ses.

'Oh, I bet that was nice for you.' I tease, imagining Kate hissing and spitting like a cat at poor Matt. It's no less than he deserves.

'No, it wasn't. The part where he told me that you were going out for dinner with him was particularly unpleasant.' She purses her lips at me. 'Ava, what are you thinking? I'm here to threaten you.'

'Oh, and there was me thinking you'd come to support your friend in her working triumph.' I raise my eyebrows.

'Pah! Your working life is not an area in which you need support. On the other hand, your personal life is very interesting lately.' She jiggles her eyebrows up and down suggestively. I know what she's getting at, and she's not heard the half of it. d.a.m.n Matt as well. We're not even together anymore and he still can't resist winding her up.

I feign a hurt face. 'You needn't worry. I a.s.sure you, I'm not going back to that. I'm enjoying being man free, and that isn't going to change anytime soon. Anyway, for the record, Matt's winding you up.' I sip my champagne.

'Not even for tall, handsome, slightly older blondes?' She grins.

I narrow my eyes on her. 'Not even then.' I confirm.

'Oh, don't be such a bore.'

'Excuse me?' This time, my hurt expression isn't feigned. Boring? I'm not boring. Kate's Wild! I look at her in disbelief, genuinely hurt by her harsh remark. I wait for her to back track, but she doesn't. Instead, she's looking over my shoulder with the biggest smirk on her face.

Impatient and quite p.i.s.sed off with her, I swing around to find out what's caught her amused attention.

Oh no!

'He's like a bad penny, isn't he?' she remarks coolly.

Chapter 8.

Oh, she has no idea.

I've not even filled her in on any of the developments since she met him at lunch. And here he is again, stood chatting with the acting estate agent, wearing a navy suit and pale blue s.h.i.+rt, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a file. He looks, as always, like a f.u.c.king G.o.d. And as if he can sense me staring, he looks up and our eyes meet.

's.h.i.+t!' I curse, turning back to Kate. She drags her gaze from Ward and onto me, her eyes dancing with delight.

'You know, I was going to go home and cry into my Haagen-Dazs, Bridgette Jones style, but I think I'll just hang around for a bit. You mind?' She sips her drink through her grin, while I snarl at her. 'This is not the behavior of someone, supposedly, unmoved by a certain someone, Ava.' she teases.

'I went to The Manor on Tuesday and nearly slept with him.' I blurt.

'What!' Kate splutters, grabbing a napkin to mop up the trail of champagne that's dripping down her chin.

'He apologised for the text he sent. I went back to The Manor and he had the big guy lock me in a room. He was waiting for me half naked!'

'Get out! Oh my G.o.d. Who's the big guy?'

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