As she rushed off, back to her table, a chill struck her chest and rippled down her arms. She peered curiously around her while rubbing her arms as the cold surged into her bones. She gazed overhead, searching for the air-conditioning unit but couldn’t see one. Frowning she returned to the terrace asking herself if she was imagining it.
As she arrived onto the terrace she noticed that the handsome but arrogant stranger had followed her and was now making his way to a seat at the next table. She squeezed past her father, shifting a chair around to one side so she could see not just her beloved Lake Léman but also this fascinating new prey. As egotistical as the stranger was, he was deadly attractive. That was more than just chemistry. Oh, you minx, she told herself with a shrill of inner mischief. Max might not be favourite on your menu right now but that’s no reason to harbour illicit thoughts.
George Remy, looking his usual freckled and suntanned self but a rather tired version, was sat next to her.
‘So, how is my little property princess getting on?’ he asked clasping one of his daughter’s shoulders and giving it a squeeze.
Gina smiled. ‘It’s getting busy again. Holiday season is finishing and people are on the move again.’ Gina pursed her lips. She knew business could be better.
‘What, both sales and lettings?’ he said, lighting a cigarette.
‘Lettings are busier but things are definitely picking up. There’s more confidence in the economy.’
‘About time,’ he said, puffing heavily on his cigarette. ‘Good for you.’
‘About time you gave that up too.’ She scowled.
‘Don’t you start. You’re beginning to sound like your mother. Anyway, where’s Max?’
‘Well, good of you to notice. He’s back in London. We had a big argument last night. And, don’t ask, I don’t want to talk about it.’
Gina closed her eyes. She had shut Max out of her thoughts all day. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Hopefully he’d finally got the message. If he doesn’t want to…No, she wasn’t going there.
‘So have you met everyone?’ she asked, clasping her hands together and crossing her legs. She knew how anti-social her dad could be.
‘Yes, James introduced Gabriella’s sister, her boyfriend and two of her cousins, I think. We’ve met her parents, of course.’
‘Yes. Oh, look James is coming over,’ Gina said, standing up as her brother shuffled around the table to greet her. ‘So sorry about the hold up earlier,’ she told him, kissing him on both cheeks.
‘Yes, you did cut it a bit fine. Where’s Max?’ James sat down and placed his beer in front of him. Gina, not realising it would be so difficult to explain, tightened her lips.
‘Still in London. Should be here in the morning.’
‘Well, we won’t be holding our wedding up for him,’ James scoffed.
‘They’ve had a row and she doesn’t want to talk about it,’ George said, stubbing out his cigarette.
‘Oh really, sweetheart,’ her mother squealed, sauntering around the table and grabbing a chair, followed by the waiter with the drinks. ‘I suspect this means he still doesn’t want to start a family then.’
Gina slammed her sunglasses on and turned towards the lake. Her eyes prickled and then stung with the tears she was so desperately trying to fight. This was supposed to be a happy occasion and all they could do was remind her of her relationship failings. She swallowed and discreetly tried to wipe her nose with a tissue. Why couldn’t they just leave her be? Her mother was right, of course, but why she had to blurt it out she didn’t know. Aunt Bernie would have a field day and, speak of the devil, she was on her way back now from Gabriella’s family now, probably with all their gossip.
‘As I said, I don’t want to talk about it. Anyway, James, are you nervous?’ she asked, changing the subject and scanning the menu the waiter now placed in her hand.
‘I’m fine, but Gabriella’s been sick with nerves this morning.’ James turned to peer at his bride-to-be. ‘I don’t think she’s been eating well lately either, she’s lost some weight.’
‘Most new brides do, James,’ his mother said, patting him gently on the arm. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll be fine.’
Gina peered up from her menu. She gasped. Bang opposite her, the vain man was staring at her with a wide grin on his face. Was he trying to humiliate her? She looked away, shifting in her chair. Her heart raced and blood rushed to her cheeks. Glad to still have her sunglasses on, she sipped at her vodka and slim-line tonic. The hovering waiter asked for her order. She ordered a salad just as two more waiters arrived at the table with glasses and a bucket. When she looked up, the vain stranger was still staring.
‘Adrienne, darling,’ Aunt Bernie bustled herself in between Gina and her mother. ‘Hope you don’t mind, I’ve ordered a couple of bottles of champagne: two for this table and two for Gabriella’s parents. Just as a celebratory drink for you all. I probably won’t get a chance tomorrow.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Bernie,’ Adrienne said, kissing her sister-in-law who was as redheaded as Adrienne was blonde. ‘Did you hear, George? Your sister has…’
‘Yes, yes. Thank you, Bernie. Very generous,’ he said crossing his legs then swallowing the rest of his beer.
‘Are you OK, Dad?’ Gina asked, trying hard to appear casual. ‘You don’t seem yourself.’
‘I’m fine,’ he grunted then forced a smile. ‘Tired, but fine.’
‘I’m going to say hello to Gabriella and her family,’ Gina said, shuffling out from the table and eager to get away from the uncomfortable stare.
‘Take this with you,’ said Aunt Bernie, handing her a glass of champagne.
As the chatter flowed among the party, so did the champagne. Gina and Gabriella chatted for a while about Gabriella’s wedding preparations and listing all the beauty treatments she’d endured ready for her big day. Gina had to concede, her soon to be sister-in-law appeared highly polished and nothing, it seemed, had been overlooked. Her skin glowed – her tan sprayed on in just the right portions – her hair and nails were immaculately manicured. Gina didn’t think there any more Gabriella could do but, Gabriella insisted, she, her bridesmaids and her mother would have the full expertise of a professional make-up artist for the big day tomorrow.
As food arrived, Gina returned to her table. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was and tucked into her salad with gusto. Aunt Bernie topped up glasses around the table except her father’s: he preferred beer. The conversation around the terrace was increasing in volume and Gina couldn’t help noticing the gorgeous vain man again, sitting opposite, giving her the occasional glance. Now with her glasses back on her head, she tried not to be intrigued. She still had no idea who he was although he appeared to be with the bride-to-be’s family. He was certainly a looker though.
She admired the way his dark brown hair cascaded loosely, hanging low over those walnut-brown eyes. They dominated his face of otherwise well-proportioned features. As she gazed again, his eyes bounced back. Her whole body tingled. He smiled, revealing even white teeth, beautiful and perfect, just like his seductively sensual lips.
‘Cheer up,’ he shouted aloud for everyone to hear. ‘I can still let you have my number.’
Gina’s cheeks roared in flames and she ducked her head back down to her salad, distractedly slicing the remainder of chicken breast on her plate. Not knowing where to place her eyes, she focused them on her glass.
‘Don’t ignore me now,’ he bellowed. ‘I was enjoying your attention.’
He winked as she raised her eyes.
Gina sat horrified. How