‘Oh, yes, it’s really very good,’ she responded as her cheeks flamed.
Nathan got to Autumn’s chair before the maître d’ had a chance and eased it out for her.
This restaurant looked like something out of a Dynasty TV production set. The décor exuded luxury, from the deep pile of the champagne-colored carpet to the elaborate, highly polished chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Luxury did nothing for him. In his job, he’d eaten at places even more upmarket than this. He’d also eaten at places most people wouldn’t want to set foot in, let alone have a meal.
‘The wine list, sir. I’d recommend the new white. It’s imported from France,’ the maître d’ explained as he pointed it out to Nathan.
‘Autumn?’ Nathan asked.
‘The most alcoholic,’ she responded, pulling her chair closer to the table.
Nathan passed the wine list back. ‘A bottle of the French stuff then,’ he agreed.
‘Very good, sir.’ The maître d’ backed away.
Nathan looked across the table at Autumn. She was moving all the items laid out for them into a set order. The small pink orchid display was moved from the center and placed at the side. The thin, impeccably styled salt and pepper cellars were slid over to the other side and turned into a position until they were just so. Then she moved the knives and forks less than an inch and did the same with the dessert spoons.
‘She isn’t coming, is she?’ Autumn remarked. Her eyes darted across everyone in the place, looking for something familiar.
Nathan checked his watch. ‘It’s only just past eight.’
‘Typical her, keeping people waiting, being the center of attention,’ she said with a disapproving tut.
‘That was exactly how you rolled a couple of days ago.’
‘It wasn’t. I’m punctual… when I can be.’
She looked back to Nathan and thought he looked nervous. It was probably the first time she had seen him look anything other than completely in control and at ease.
‘Will you leave the table settings alone?’ he barked.
‘Sorry.’ She dropped her fork on the floor and made a grab for her napkin before it followed suit.
‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘I don’t like it here,’ she admitted.
‘You hang out at places like this. These people have money, just like you. You should feel right at home.’
‘Why do you say things like that? I told you I didn’t want to come here,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t feel comfortable here.’
She quieted as a waiter came over to their table. He opened the wine, and, after Autumn tasted it and approved, he poured two glasses and left them alone.
‘These people eating here spend a fortune on imported French wine like this. They have everything on a plate. They’re privileged and lucky, just like you,’ Nathan reminded her.
‘Lucky? Oh, yes, I’m so lucky, aren’t I? Two-timing boyfriend, liar of a best friend, hard-hearted mother, no father, nothing to do of an evening except drink, avoid eating, and listen to people telling me how perfect I am,’ she stated then took a large mouthful of wine.
‘Ah, the poor-spoiled-little-rich-girl routine.’
Tears pricked her eyes. ‘Don’t say that! Why are you saying that?’ she asked.
*
Why was he saying that? Why was he being so heartless and cruel? She had already been kicked to the floor, why did he feel he had to put the boot in even more? He knew why. Because if he didn’t focus on all her bad points and all the fucking irritating shit she did, he would see the good points, and it was the good points that made him want to take her in his arms and never let her go. He took a drink of his wine then replaced the glass on the table.
‘What do you want from life, Autumn?’
‘I don’t want this, and I don’t want that either. I’m tired. I’m so tired, and I don’t know what to do.’
‘So, change things,’ he suggested, looking across the table at her.
‘Because it’s so easy to do when you don’t know anything else.’
‘Maybe you should visit Hull. See how the other half lives.’
She raised her eyes to meet his. ‘Would you take me?’ she asked.
‘You’ll have to eat chips… with your fingers,’ he said.
‘Doused with salt and vinegar?’
‘Absolutely.’ His lips moved, stretching into a smile that touched the very edges of his face. And he felt it, too, inside himself. A warm feeling spread over his chest, moved down into his stomach, and spread lower, down to his groin.
He downed half the contents of his wine glass in one gulp.
The stuck-up pop icon facade was slowly, but surely, falling away, and as each piece came loose, there was more and more to like about Autumn Raine. He was in dangerous territory and he knew it.
He refocused and looked across at the swinging door. His shoulders stiffened.
‘She’s here, isn’t she?’ Autumn said, turning around in her chair to see.
‘Play it cool. Let me do all the talking,’ Nathan urged.
*
Autumn’s mother appeared in the doorway, flanked, as ever, by her two security men who had done little to disguise who or what they were. She wore an apricot-colored peplum-style dress that showed off her neat figure. Her hair was uncharacteristically down and sat on her shoulders. But the smart, sophisticated look of the tableau fell away the second her eyes met Autumn’s.
‘Something’s wrong,’ Autumn whispered to Nathan.
‘What?’
‘She doesn’t look composed. Something’s wrong.’
‘Don’t be fooled by her, Autumn. You know what she’s capable of.’
‘I also know when something’s wrong, and something’s wrong. I can feel it.’
Alison beamed a wide smile as she made her way across toward their table, her companions tight to her heel.
‘She doesn’t look in control,’ Autumn said through tight lips.
‘It’s an act. Don’t be taken in. Foreign Secretary Raine,’ Nathan greeted, standing up and extending his hand as she approached.
His offering was met with her two aides moving their hands to their weapons.
‘Just a handshake,’ Nathan insisted, withdrawing his hand and sitting back
