The Millionaire's 'Friend' - Natasha's Story

Chapter 23 - Dinner At Evan's

Again with the nerves. What the hell was wrong with me? I felt almost crippled as I sat in the back of the car that Evan had sent to collect me for dinner; even worse than I did before Telstar. It didn't take much to realise why. Tonight was important for Evan, he had a lot riding on it. Strangely, I had an awful premonition that I was somehow going to show him up.

It took all my courage to reach out and knock on his front door. Relief rushed through me when it was opened by a friendly face.

"Miss Jones. Great to see."

"Hi Paul. Christ, am I glad you're here." He laughed at my blunt talk.

"Well, that makes a change. Most people look away when I appear – usually means they're in trouble with you know who. Nice to know I can brighten someone's day, Miss Jones."

"Seriously Paul, you've got to pack in the 'Miss Jones' crap. It's Nat."

"Certainly, Nat." He winked cheerfully. "Come on through. Richards is due shortly, but everyone else is here."

Paul led me through to Evan's enormous lounge/diner and I gulped at the sight of all the suits standing around. Company executives, lawyers, accountants – not a sense of humour in sight. They were distinguishable by the slight differences in the expensive cut of their tailoring. Execs at the top in their hand-crafted, no expense spared outfits; accountants at the bottom in their shop bought gear. Though Evan's company was hugely successful, so shop bought still meant Hugo Boss or Calvin Klein. The desire to meet any of them was below zero. Paul seemed to share my opinion.

"Actually, why don't you come and meet Grace."

I followed along, dutifully, smoothing down my dress as we went. Fliss was a life saver. Five minutes after I'd left Evan in the park I realised that my wardrobe consisted of only two dresses, and one of those was the ballgown he'd bought for me. The other was a summery beach dress, bought when I was nineteen, and used even less than my ballgown. It had been an impulse buy – back when I was still finding my feet as an independent adult, and I thought at some point I'd be jetting off on holiday to some exotic beach paradise. Wishful thinking.

Paul's voice drew me back from my thoughts. "Nat. This is Grace."

I looked down into the soft, welcoming, grey eyes of Evan's housekeeper.

"It's very nice to meet you, Natasha. I've heard a lot about you."

"Uh-oh. That's worrying."

"Oh, it's all good I promise. In fact, Evan's described you so well, you're almost exactly as I pictured you." I flushed at the thought. "And may I say how lovely you look. That's a beautiful dress."

"Really? It's ok is it?" I asked, nervously seeking some kind of confirmation that Fliss's judgement was on the nail. I looked down at the lovely, metallic grey, pencil dress she'd thrown me into. It's just as well Fliss and I were a similar size; though, her chest was a bit larger, so there was some excess material hanging off me.

"It's perfect, you look just the ticket." Inwardly I sighed in relief that my appearance at least wouldn't be my undoing. "Anyway, you'll have to excuse me, I need to check on dinner."

"Yes, of course. Would you like a hand?"

"Oh no, you just enjoy yourself, dear." She smiled warmly as she disappeared into the kitchen. Paul had already moved away, and there was no sign of Evan yet, so I wandered by myself. I headed across to the windows near the TV, feeling more at ease in the 'fun zone' that was the living room, rather than the business gathering by Evan's giant dining table. Blankly, staring out across the tops of the city, I became aware of someone walking up behind me.