She looked at the two of them and a moment of clarity struck like a thunderbolt. Tim looked so short and plump and silly next to this man. What on earth had she seen in him? She had wasted so much time and tears, and now she was reduced to begging for crumbs from some rich man’s table when she should have been taking Ariana on to the next level?
She shook her head in despair. Where had she gone so badly wrong?
‘Tim, the only reason you’re here right now is because there are people here tonight who remember what you did, and you want me to say it’s OK. Well, it’s not OK. Nothing about it is OK. So why don’t you take your half-baked little excuse for an apology and your stupid plastic award and get out of my way?’
She turned to Nikos, whose eyes were wide. She’d shocked him too. Good.
‘I want to see Martin. Now. Where is he?’ she said.
A grin broke out across his face and he stepped to the side.
‘Come with me, I’ll take you to him.’
MARTIN’S SUITE WAS in the Duchess Wing, about a mile of plush velvet carpet to the east of the grand ballroom. They walked in complete silence along its length until the ornate double doors came into sight.
Nikos had the good sense not to say a word until they got there but he was weighing up what he’d just heard and it sounded nasty. Whatever the guy had done, breaking a promise sounded like the least of it. And accusing her of being a martyr. Nikos had met more than a few of those, but in his experience they tended to be the nice ones.
Maria had never played the martyr. Maria took what she wanted and what other people wanted too...
‘You all right?’ he asked, his hand on the doorknob. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
Jacquelyn looked up at him with eyes that told him she was still feeling some pain.
‘I’m fine,’ she replied. ‘Thank you.’
Nikos nodded and opened the door of Martin’s suite, ushering her in.
‘I found your friend Jacquelyn. She wants a word.’
Martin looked up, surprised. He was sitting at a fireplace filled with yet another giant arrangement of flowers.
‘Of course. If that’s OK with you, Nikos?’
Nikos stood back and watched her sail right past him and perch on the sofa opposite Martin. Her back was ramrod straight and she turned, flashing Nikos a look that might have said, thank you, but might as easily have said, beat it.
‘Yeah, sure. I was on my way to get my phone. I’ll be back in five. That long enough, do you think?’
Martin nodded vigorously. Jacquelyn didn’t move a muscle.
Nikos closed the door and walked back to his suite.
She was a force of nature, that one. The Ice Queen, but the way she’d blasted that guy was pure fire. It was impressive. And if she pitched like that to Martin he didn’t stand a chance.
Maybe he’d been too harsh on her. She was clearly passionate about her business, and good for her. If he’d been in tough times, the last thing he’d want to do was waste his precious time on small talk with a stranger.
He collected his phone and checked for messages and emails, frowning when he saw yet another one from his accountant, Mark, about the investigation into Maria’s missing assets. He had better get answers from Martin. This whole thing was getting more and more out of hand.
He rounded the corner of the hallway and paused. He put an ear to the door to see if they were still talking.
Martin’s deep voice was making reassuring noises; Jacquelyn seemed to be silent. He knocked on the door and walked in.
‘OK? All wrapped up?’
He didn’t have time to worry if it wasn’t. He had his own issues to deal with now.
‘Nikos. Great timing.’
Martin was facing Jacquelyn. They were both standing, but now Martin was the one who looked imploringly at him, and Jacquelyn’s eyes were bright with—hope?
‘I was just explaining to Jacquelyn that I’m retiring. She’s looking for an investor and I was trying to think of someone else who’d be a good fit. I don’t know if I mentioned but Ariana Bridal goes back quite a long way. They need to modernise, perhaps? Would that be right, Jacquelyn? And so maybe you or your connections would be a...better fit...?’
Nikos shook his head.
‘I’m not looking to invest in anything, Martin. I’m here to sort a problem.’
He held up his phone.
‘A problem that’s giving me a headache. While we were giving out awards, I’ve been getting more messages.’
‘I won’t take up much of your time, Mr Karellis.’
On a heartbeat Jacquelyn turned and walked towards him. She was breathtaking and he realised he was still standing holding his phone in the air. Quickly he pulled his arm down.
‘Time is what I don’t have. Martin?’ he said, meaning, Martin, what the hell are you thinking?
‘Maybe you could squeeze in five minutes with Jacquelyn before you go?’
‘I promise it won’t take longer than five minutes. Ten at the most. Martin understands. This is a business that has so much to offer. We go back decades and we’ve got great plans. We just need a break.’
Nikos looked at Martin, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders as if to say wouldn’t hurt.
With a sigh that he didn’t even know he was going to make, he breathed out an, ‘OK.’
‘Five minutes. If we get this sorted,’ he said to Martin. Then turning to Jacquelyn, ‘Wait in the bar and I’ll send someone.’
She nodded and smiled, and as she breezed past she stopped suddenly and grabbed his hand in both of hers. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I guarantee you won’t regret it.’
He nodded gruffly, but the sensation of his coarse hand in her delicate fingers was sweet and soft and he was happy to linger there for a moment. He smiled, and she smiled back. Light seemed to sparkle in her eyes and her features lit up. The face of an angel.
She squeezed his hand and then let go and headed for the door, trailing behind her delicate scent.
He waited until she had gone and then closed the door. ‘What the hell’s going on, Martin?’ he said. ‘You know I’m under pressure here.’
‘You could have said no,’ said Martin, eyebrows raised.
‘Garbage. You set me up. There’s no way anyone could say no to that.’
‘She’s quite something, isn’t she?’
‘Hmmm,’ said Nikos, ‘but you do know that I won’t be giving her anything other than some hard home truths? I’m not getting mixed up in anything. Especially with a woman who just needs to stand in a corner and whistle and she’ll have men lying at her feet.’
‘She’s not like that at all. She’s from a very good family.’
‘That counts for nothing. Anyway, let’s get on with this. What’s going down? Why the year-long battle with your lawyers? Just what are you trying to prove?’
Martin stood with his back to the fireplace of flowers. The top of his greying head was visible in the ornate mirror. His face was cast in a sickly pallor, and he frowned and clasped his fingers.