Edie tried again. ‘Helen, I really don’t think that—’
But the woman was now ignoring Edie and opening the door to let Sebastio Rivas out of the office, saying officiously, ‘Leave it with us, Mr Rivas. We’ll do everything necessary to get Edie released from her schedule here as soon as possible.’
The door closed on an image of Sebastio Rivas looking directly at Edie with unmistakable challenge. She shivered at what that challenge might be—to do a job, or to let her know he’d noticed her reacting to his presence and could see all the way through her skin to where there was a pulse of something intimate.
It reminded her of that night in the club, when she’d felt as if he was looking right into her soul. It was galling that he had the same effect on her now.
Her boss turned around to face Edie. ‘Do you have any idea who that is?’
Edie swallowed, feeling curiously flat now that he had left the room. ‘He’s a rugby player with the Argentinian rugby team.’
Helen waved a dismissive hand. ‘He retired as a rugby player a few years ago. Sebastio Rivas is now CEO of Rivas Bank—he’s descended from one of the most powerful banking families in the world.’
Edie absorbed this. That would explain his air of arrogance and entitlement. He came from a rarefied world.
Her boss went on to explain breathlessly what an important addition to London society he was. How generous he was to charity. Then she said, ‘So, the fact that he wants you to decorate his house for Christmas is obviously something we will facilitate.’
Edie recognised Helen’s steely tone. She also recognised that this was an amazing opportunity. She’d been offered a ridiculous amount of money and her supervisor had just assured her that her job would still be there when she came back.
So why was she so reluctant?
Because, said a small voice, that man rejected you at a time when you ached to be normal and know what it was to feel like to be a woman. And because he’s a reminder that you still don’t know what it is to be a real woman.
It was humiliating to think that within the last four years she’d obviously changed and matured on many levels, but on a very private and intimate level she was the same girl she had been that night. Gauche and inexperienced. Desperate to fit in. Desperate for experience. Desperate to live.
‘Edie? If you’re reluctant to do this I can always find someone else...’
Edie’s attention snapped back to the present and her boss, who was looking at her, clearly impatient to have this dealt with. Edie knew she’d have no hesitation in asking the next person.
A determination settled in her gut not to allow this opportunity to slip away just because seeing Sebastio Rivas again had been disconcerting. To say the least.
‘No, of course I’ll do it. I’d be crazy not to.’
Helen smiled approvingly. ‘Good. If you like, you can go home early—you’ll be very busy up till Christmas. Mr Rivas said he’d send further instructions via his assistant.’
Edie didn’t fancy the long bus journey home to her bedsit in north London, with too much time to think about things, so she said, ‘No, I’ll finish the window with Jimmy. It’s almost done anyway.’
Helen shrugged. ‘Whatever you want, Edie. Most people would jump at the chance to go home early.’
Edie smiled weakly. She wasn’t most people and she didn’t need the reminder.
For the rest of the day she and Jimmy worked in companionable harmony. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice her tension. When they were leaving work he asked if she’d like to join him and his friends at a nearby bar, but she smiled and declined. Her brain was addled after everything that had happened that day. Seeing Rivas again. Feeling the same things.
As she sat on the crowded bus, heading north from the centre of town, she told herself to stop being so trepiditious. Maybe getting to know Sebastio Rivas a little would help her to topple him from the almost mythic place he’d taken up in her consciousness, where no other man could touch him.
After all, he hadn’t ever known her circumstances, had he? That night in the club she’d been just another woman approaching him for a sliver of attention... He couldn’t possibly have known just how fragile she’d been then.
But she wasn’t fragile any more.
Edie forced her mind away from the past and pulled her phone out of her pocket when she felt it vibrate. There was a text message from Helen, with an address in Richmond. Sebastio Rivas’s address.
Her heart thumped when she read it.
You’re to meet Sebastio Rivas at his house tomorrow at ten a.m. He’ll talk you through what needs to be done and his legal team will draw up a temporary work contract. Good luck and Happy Christmas, Edie! Helen
Once again Edie was stunned that her boss had sanctioned this move. Albeit temporarily. But, in fairness, it wasn’t as if Marrotts was short of display artists. She was one of many. And of course it would enhance their reputation to loan out one of their staff to a new and illustrious client.
Edie quickly did an internet search on the address in Richmond, and five minutes later wished she hadn’t. It was an old hunting lodge that looked more like a mansion than a lodge, set in acres and acres of its own grounds. There were even wild deer. Her experience was in dressing spaces that ranged between ten and twenty-five square feet. Not grand country mansions!
She felt a flare of panic and doused it, telling herself that she’d overcome far bigger challenges in the past. She wasn’t going to allow Sebastio Rivas to see that she was daunted by this project. He’d told her to run along once before. She wouldn’t give him the opportunity to do it again.
* * *
The following morning, Edie turned a corner in the long winding drive that led up to the house in Richmond, cursing herself for assuring the security guard at the gate that she wouldn’t mind the walk. He’d tried to get her to wait for a groundsman to give her a lift but she’d insisted, needing to get her wits about her. She hadn’t realised it would take quite so long, though.
And now she stopped in her tracks. Dazzled by the sight before her. No picture could have done justice to the low winter sun glinting off hundreds of windows and the sheer stately magnificence of the house.
It had two levels, and an elegantly grand front entrance. She could make out what looked like manicured gardens at the back, and as far as the eye could see to the front were rolling grounds, with a wood in the distance.
As she approached the front entrance, feeling more and more intimidated, the huge front door opened and a dapper older gentleman dressed in a smart suit appeared.
He came down the steps, smiling and holding out his hand. ‘You must be Edie.’
She came forward, ‘Yes.’ She shook his hand. He had an accent that she guessed was from Italy.
‘I’m Matteo, Mr Rivas’s housekeeper. He’s on his way from his office in London, but some of his assistants
