Рецепт свадебного пудинга. Галина Осень
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a hand at him. ‘Don’t lie, you adore me. Besides, you matter less.’
‘I am the boss,’ he reminded her. Just in case she’d forgotten. He was starting to wonder...
‘Yeah. So you’ll be taking care of them in meetings and things, right? I’ll be with them the rest of the time. When they’re having fun. So it’s important they think I’m a fun person to be around. You’ll probably be back in the office by then anyway, so what do you care?’
It should set his mind at ease, Dominic thought, knowing that she wasn’t expecting him to be around all the time, holding her hand through this job. She obviously believed she was capable enough to get on with it alone. And, against the odds, he was starting to believe that too.
So why was he mentally reshuffling his calendar to figure out which evenings he could join them on their tours and outings?
‘You’re right,’ he said, shaking away the uncomfortable thought. ‘As long as you keep them entertained and happy, that’s all that matters.’
‘Good.’ Faith nodded, then sucked in a breath as the words and numbers on the display board changed again. ‘Because they’re here.’
* * *
She was not afraid. She was not afraid. She was not afraid.
She’d done this a million times before. The meet and greet was the most important part, sure—people tended to stick with their first impressions, even when they claimed not to. But she was good at this. Good at smiling and welcoming and helping and making people feel at home.
So why were her hands clammy?
Maybe it was the clothes. Maybe she should have gone with the stupid suit...
‘That’s them,’ Dominic said, and then it was too late to worry about any of it anyway, because they were surging forward into handshakes and smiles and polite greetings. Faith beckoned over the driver who’d met them in the arrivals hall to start collecting bags onto a trolley, glad of something real and useful to do. Something she knew and understood. How could she have thought that looking after a group of high-powered businesspeople in London would be the same as shepherding holidaying Brits around Italy? They were already launching into conversations with Dominic that she couldn’t even begin to follow. The three letter acronyms alone were baffling.
The drive into London, in a spacious limo complete with high-end coffee machine, at least gave her a chance to get her latest charges straight in her head. There was Henry, large and jocular—easy to remember, as long as she kept picturing Henry VIII when she looked at him. Next was Bud, skinnier in the face but a little rotund around the middle. Like a bottle of beer. Perfect.
The first two names fixed, she turned to the next pair. Both in navy suits, both dark-haired, both serious-looking. Thank God one of them wore glasses or she’d be getting them confused all week. Their names, however, were even easier—an improbable ice cream concoction of Ben and Jerry. As long as she remembered that Jerry had the glasses, she was golden.
The last two of Dominic’s clients were easy, too. The blonde woman in the fantastic red suit was Marie, which made Faith think of Marilyn, which made her think of Monroe. And the brunette in the more severe black trouser suit with spectacular heels was Terri, who could just be the one she couldn’t think of a great mnemonic for. Five out of six wasn’t bad.
With everyone straight in her head, Faith settled back in her seat to nurse her espresso, and try to make some sort of sense of the conversation. She followed the discussion about land purchase and architects all right, until they started throwing out figures and referencing forms. She sighed to herself and decided she needed to have attended at least six months of previous meetings to even begin to understand.
‘I’m guessing this is kinda dull for you,’ Ben—no, glasses! Jerry—said, leaning in to whisper close to her ear.
‘Not dull,’ Faith objected. ‘Just...not my area of expertise.’
Jerry’s eyes flashed down to her blouse. ‘And what exactly is that? Dominic didn’t say.’
‘Faith is your tour guide for the week,’ Dominic said sharply, from the other end of the car. Faith looked up in surprise; she hadn’t realised he was paying any attention to her. And how had he even heard Jerry from there?
Suddenly all attention was on her. Plastering on her best social smile, Faith said, ‘That’s right. So if you’ve any thoughts on places you’d like to go, things you’d like to see, just let me know!’
‘Oh, I can think of a couple,’ Jerry murmured, still looking at her breasts. Faith shuffled a little further away, until her leg pressed up against the car door.
Looking up, she saw Dominic glaring at her. He couldn’t have heard Jerry’s latest comment, but surely he had to know this wasn’t her idea?
Or not. Turning his attention back to his clients, Dominic launched into another highly dense and baffling business conversation. Faith listened for a moment until she spotted Marie giving her a sympathetic smile. Then, tuning out the figures and the jargon, she pulled her tablet from her bag and started planning the week ahead.
She might not understand Dominic’s job, but she was damn good at her own, thank you.
* * *
Dominic needed to get out of cars and hotels and into the office. How was he expected to concentrate on the finer details of the outstanding contract when one of his clients was hitting on Faith?
She’d handled it well, professionally even, but he was under no illusions that she wouldn’t let rip if the guy pushed his luck. And quite rightly, too. Perhaps he should have a little word with Jerry...
The Greyfriars Hotel was a hit with his guests, proving Faith’s knowledge of the luxury hotel market spot on. Procuring an extra room for himself wasn’t difficult—although booking the penthouse suite seemed a little excessive even to him, given he had his own apartment just across town. Still, it looked as if it would be a long week. He’d probably need a luxurious space to relax at night.
‘So,’ Faith said as she handed out keycards, ‘I know you’ve got meetings planned this afternoon, but what would you like to do this evening? Sleep off your jet lag, or go out and party?’
Dominic was secretly hoping for the sleeping option, but the Americans all seemed to be up for a party.
Faith clapped her hands together. ‘Great! I’ll make sure to come up with something really special.’
Maybe he didn’t have to go. After all the meetings in Rome, plus this afternoon to get through, he could really use the time in the office. Surely Faith would be okay without him?
But then he saw Jerry sidling up to Faith with his spare keycard in hand.
Stepping closer, he heard her say, ‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry. If you lose it, the hotel can make you another one.’ She pushed the card back into Jerry’s hand, and Dominic gave a mental cheer.
As Jerry stalked off towards his room, not looking particularly beaten, Dominic leant in towards Faith. ‘Count me in for whatever tonight’s activity is.’
She turned to him and scowled. ‘Don’t think I can handle it by myself?’
He grinned. ‘Oh, I’m certain that you can. I just want to watch the show.’
The smile she gave him in return was positively devilish, and he didn’t even try not to watch as she walked towards the lifts, hips swinging.
Maybe he wouldn’t have that word with Jerry. It might be far more satisfying to watch Faith cut him down herself.
He’d just make sure he was on hand in case she needed any assistance.
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