and say, ‘Quite a performer, your companion—I overheard him retelling those jokes and he was a sight better than the original comedian. Does he do it professionally?’
‘No, he’s a stockbroker.’
‘You’re having a laugh.’
‘Really. He’s actually a client and we were discussing his case.’
‘Yeah, right. This is just the perfect place for it. All right, I’m going. I have work to do. Stockbroker, eh?’ He thumped Charlie on the shoulder and departed.
Charlie frowned, turning back from the waiter. ‘Lee Renton? I’ve heard that name somewhere.’
‘He’s very big in entertainment. He buys things, he promotes, he owns a television studio.’
‘That Lee Renton? Wow! I wish I’d known.’
He looked around, managing to spot Lee in the distance, deep in conversation with a man whom he overwhelmed by flinging an arm around his shoulders and sweeping him off until they both vanished in the crowd.
The waiter brought more wine and he drank it thoughtfully. ‘Do you know him well?’
‘Well enough. I’ll introduce you another time.’
He drained his glass. ‘Come on, let’s dance.’
He was a natural dancer, and together they went enjoyably mad. The other dancers backed off to watch them, and when they finished the crowd applauded.
Charlie’s eyes were brilliant, his cheeks flushed, and Pippa guessed she must look much the same. In a moment of crazy delight, he put his hands on either side of her face, just as she had briefly done to him at the table. But when he tried to kiss her she fended him off.
‘That’s enough,’ she said when she could speak. ‘Bad boy!’
‘Sorry, ma’am!’ He assumed a clowning expression of penitence.
‘We’re going back to the table and you’re going to behave,’ she said firmly.
Then she saw Roscoe.
He was sitting at a table on the edge of the dance floor, regarding her with his head slightly tilted and an unreadable expression on his face. Beside him sat a woman of great beauty in a low-cut evening gown of gold satin, with flaming red hair. Pippa saw her lean towards him, touching his hand gently so that he turned back to her, all attention, as though everyone else had ceased to exist.
‘What’s up?’ Charlie asked, turning. ‘What? Damn him!’
He hurried her to the table, muttering, ‘Let’s hope he doesn’t see us. What’s he doing here? ‘
‘Who’s that with him?’
‘I don’t know. Never seen her.’
‘Did you tell him you were coming?’
‘No way!’
‘Then perhaps it’s just bad luck.’
‘Not with Roscoe. I’ve heard him say that the man who relies on luck is a fool.’
‘Yes, in stockbroking—’
‘In everything. He never does anything by chance. He’s a control freak.’
Pippa had no answer. She, whose presence here was a result of Roscoe’s commands, knew better than anyone that Charlie was right. She shivered.
Now she could see Roscoe leading the woman into the dance. The band was playing a smoochy tune and they moved slowly, locked in a close embrace. Pippa shifted her seat so that she had her back to them and began to chatter brightly about nothing. Words came out of her mouth but her mind was on the dance floor, picturing the movements that she’d avoided seeing with her eyes.
At last the music ended and Charlie groaned, ‘Oh, no, he’s coming over.’
Roscoe and his partner were bearing down on them. Without waiting to be invited, they sat at the table.
‘Fancy seeing you here!’ Roscoe exclaimed in a voice of such cheerful surprise that Pippa’s suspicions were confirmed. This was no accidental meeting.
He introduced everyone, giving the woman’s name as Teresa Blaketon. Charlie was immediately on his best behaviour in the presence of beauty, Pippa was amused to notice.
‘I think we should dance,’ Roscoe said, rising.
It would have been satisfying to ignore the hand he held out so imperiously, but that was hardly an option now, so she let him draw her to her feet and lead her back to the floor, where a waltz had just begun. She decided that there was nothing for it but to endure his putting an arm about her and drawing her close.
But he didn’t. Taking her right hand in his left, he laid his right hand on the side of her waist and proceeded to dance with nearly a foot of air between them. It was polite, formal and Pippa knew she should have been glad. Yet, remembering how close he’d held his lady friend, she felt that this was practically a snub.
‘I’m glad to see that you’re taking your duties seriously,’ he said. ‘For you to spend an evening with Charlie is more than I’d hoped for.’
‘Don’t worry, it’ll appear on the bill,’ she said cheerfully. ‘And, as it’s my own time, I’ll charge extra. Triple at least.’
‘Don’t I get a discount for the meal he bought you, and the first class champagne?’
‘Certainly not. I drank that champagne out of courtesy.’
‘I see you know how to cost every minute,’ he said softly.
‘Of course. As a man of finance, you should appreciate that.’
‘There are some things outside my experience.’
‘That I simply don’t believe,’ she said defiantly, raising her head to meet his eyes.
He was looking down on her with a fixed gaze that made her suddenly glad her dress was high and unrevealing. Yet she had the disconcerting sense that he could see right through the material. Even Charlie hadn’t looked like that, and for a moment she trembled.
‘You flatter me,’ he said. ‘The truth is, I’m mystified by you. When I think I understand you, you do the opposite to what I was expecting.’
‘Just like the financial markets,’ she observed saucily. ‘You manage well enough with them.’
‘Sooner or later, the financial markets always revert to type. With you, I’m not so sure.’
‘Perhaps that’s because you don’t really know what my type is. Or you think you know, and you’re mistaken.’
‘No—’ he shook his head ‘—I’m not arrogant enough to think I know.’
‘Then let me tell
