A Risky Business #SYTYCW15 #CarinaPress

Chapter Twenty Six

A fancy restaurant - early April - what's Mr Farringdon's problem ...?

*Damien*

I sat and watched her chattering away at me across the table. We were at the stage now where we found it easy to talk to each other about anything, small talk or important stuff as well as business. The restaurant was busy which, I must admit, I was finding a bit distracting, but there was another reason why I wasn't really listening to her.

I knew we were skiving, we should be at work. I knew the rest of the team would think I was taking the piss. Again. I rostered myself on shift and then swanned off and left them to it. I was feeling guilty.

She paused in her monologue, looked at me and I realised she was waiting for an answer.

I had a fifty fifty chance of getting this right. I smiled at her and took a gamble.

"Yes!" I said.

"Well that's exactly what I thought," she said. "I knew that the blue one would be better. But the trouble with that is ..."

Phew, I was off the hook and she was straight back into her stride.

I also had a lot on my mind. Kate had already been for her twenty week scan. I had gone with her and, I'm not embarrassed to say that it had been just as magical to see my baby on that screen the second time round as it had the first. All the shapes, his head, his limbs, his little face even, were so much clearer this time. Words couldn't really describe it. It was amazing, he was a real little person. My son. It had really brought it all home. This was happening and it was happening soon. The time was just flying by. He would be here in no time.

I was brought back to the here and now by the loud ringing of my phone. I grabbed it quickly. This was the kind of restaurant where mobiles were frowned upon and sure enough, when I looked up she was scowling disapprovingly at me.

"Sorry," I mouthed, and indicated that I had to take this.

"Sovereign Securities, Damien Sparkes."

"Where the bloody hell are you?" Steve demanded.

I stood up from the table and walked outside. I moved slightly away from the restaurant's front door and lit a cigarette.

"In town," I told him. "What's the problem?"

"Oh, only that Mr Farringdon has turned up. Nothing much."

"What?" I said. "He's meant to be at that conference until tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes, he's meant to be," Steve said. He sounded pretty stressed. "But he's not. He's here. And he wants to see you."

"Shit," I said, walking slowly along the pavement so that I could look through the large restaurant windows to see that she was still sitting at the table waiting for me. The mood she was in lately I wouldn't put it past her to just up and leave and make her own way home. And I wasn't having that. But she was still there. I could see her rummaging in her handbag. She finally brought out her phone. She was probably texting him.

"What does he want?" I asked Steve.

"I don't fucking know, he won't tell me, will he? He wants to talk to the organ grinder, not the flamin' monkey."

I think Steve was a bit put out.

"What have you told him?" I asked.

"I said you were in town sorting out something to do with the car," Steve said. "It's nice and easy to keep it vague when you don't actually know the answer."

Yep, he was definitely put out.

"Sorry mate," I said. "Thanks for covering for me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You better be," Steve said, and rang off.

I stubbed out the rest of my cigarette and went back into the restaurant, deliberately walking slowly to give her enough time to notice me and finish her text in private.

"Everything ok?" she looked up at me and smiled.

"We have a problem," I told her. "Mr Farringdon is back."

"But I thought ..."

"Yes, I thought that too," I said, "but apparently not. We'd better get a move on."

She stuck out her bottom lip.

"But we haven't had dessert yet. You surely aren't going to deny me a pudding?"

I looked at her, and she knew damn well that there was no way I was going to say 'no' to her.

So, after we had demolished our, admittedly delicious puddings, and had a coffee each, I finally managed to convince her that it really was time to go.

"You're going to get me into trouble you know," I told her. "Why aren't you worried that we are keeping Mr Farringdon waiting?"

"Sometimes," she said, very slowly and deliberately, "you just have to remember that there are more important things in life. If nothing else, the last few weeks have taught me that."

I nodded and went to pick up the embossed leather folder that the waiter had brought containing the bill, but she reached across and took it from me.

"Don't be silly, he can pay for this," she said sliding a platinum card from her purse and laying it on the table.

"You do like living on the edge, don't you?" I said.

"So do you, Damien," she said. "So do you."

The waiter appeared at the side of the table with his card machine. He checked the bill and keyed in the amount. He reached over, picked up the card, inserted it, handed the machine over and waited while she tapped in her pin. The receipt printed out and the waiter handed the slip of paper and the card back to her,

"Thank you very much Mrs Farringdon," he said. "I hope we see you here again soon. Have a pleasant day."

I must have been looking pretty uncomfortable because she reached over, took my hand and said,

"Don't worry Damien, they are very discreet here. And besides, what on earth is wrong with a lady treating her favourite bodyguard to a spot of lunch now and then?"

"I keep telling you, I'm not your .." I started, but she had continued talking.

"I mean, it's not as if we've been ripping each other's clothes off."

I looked at her.

"I'll wait until we get back to the car for that," she finished.

"Your husband has asked to see me," I told her. "Do you know what it might be about?"

"How would I know?" she said. "He doesn't tell me anything."

"But, I mean, he doesn't know anything ...?"

"About what?"

"About what?" I repeated. "About us!"

"Of course not, darling," she purred. "You've got nothing to worry about. I promise."

She stood up and walked around the table towards me and I stood to meet her. She put her hand up to my cheek, pushed her body tight up against mine and kissed me, right there in front of everybody. She opened her mouth and her tongue began to dance with mine, tussling and teasing. Eventually she pulled away, her eyes flashing and her breathing heavy.

"Come on Damien," she said. "Let's go."