A Bid for Love

by J. B. Sherrard

  "So it's Pippa, is it?" Fabian asked a moment later.

  "Yes. No one calls me Philippa! No one except you, that is. And my brother when he's annoyed about something."

  "You might have told me!" Fabian protested.

  "You're not the only one full of surprises," Pippa said.

  "Touché," he muttered.

  She was just taking her seat as a portly gentleman stumbled in the aisle and fell over with considerable ceremony. Everybody looked round as people came to his rescue and, as Pippa turned, she caught the eye of another member of the audience whom she recognised only too well. Hubert Saunders smiled at her and waved, but his jovial expression swiftly changed when he recognised her escort. Even at thirty yards, Pippa could tell his face had frozen, and her heart sank. It had never occurred to her that Hubert would be at the gala.

  "Is something the matter?" Fabian asked.

  "Hubert's here."

  "Oh, no!" But there was little else Fabian could say, for the curtain went up seconds later.

  Although Pippa appreciated that there was nothing she could do about the situation, she couldn't help thinking about the consequences. Her carefully laid plans not to rock the boat had come horribly unstuck. Though she hadn't lied to Hubert, he would have every justification to be concerned about her choice of company, and it was quite possible that he would ask Diana if she had had any idea of Pippa's date. The fact that Pippa had not confided in Diana would almost certainly put her back up, too. Pippa envisaged that work could become exceedingly unpleasant. The champagne that had lifted her spirits seemed to have lost all its sparkle and she felt miserably flat.

  Noticing that she wasn't laughing at any of the acts, Fabian looked at her with concern and in a whisper told her not to worry. She smiled bravely. It was all very well for him to tell her not to worry. It wasn't his job and relationships that were at stake.

  As the final curtain was lowered, applause filled the theatre and Pippa did her best to pretend that everything was all right. They stood up to leave and Pippa hoped that she wouldn't actually come face-to-face with Hubert.

  "We'll take our time," Fabian assured her sensitively.

  "You've booked at Luigi's, haven't you?" Edward Naughton asked his son.

  "Yes. Upstairs."

  "Do you know Luigi's, Pippa?" Edward enquired.

  "Yes, I've been a couple of times. It's one of my favourite restaurants."

  Pippa wasn't sure whether she was pleased that Fabian's parents were to dine with them. Although they seemed very genial people, they were still strangers—not that she knew Fabian very much better. Still, perhaps there was safety in numbers. Surely Fabian wouldn't get out of hand in front of his parents.

  Various people were waving to the Naughtons and, as they waited to file out of the auditorium, a man with an extraordinary handlebar moustache patted Fabian on the back and congratulated him.

  "Well done! You've put a first class show together." He paused for a moment. "I think Vicky would have approved."

  "I like to think so," Fabian said wistfully. "Thank you, Charles. May I introduce Pippa Gibson? Pippa, this is Sir Charles Mynton."

  They shook hands and Sir Charles told her how beautiful she looked.

  "Charles is the president of our Joint Charities Committee," Fabian explained.

  "That's just a title. This young man's done all the work. Most impressive, Fabian. Most impressive! You should be very proud of yourself."

  Pippa was amused to see that Fabian was actually blushing, like a bashful schoolboy. A couple of other people waved to Fabian and Pippa sensed he was very much the man of the moment. She wondered whether Hubert knew that Fabian had been the organising genius behind the evening's entertainment. Perhaps if he knew he might change his opinion about him. Pippa was changing hers by the second.

  The four of them walked round to Luigi's, and Pippa felt surprisingly relaxed. They were a very welcoming family, and she felt as if she had known them rather longer than the two and a half hours she had actually been in their company. Both his parents were delightful, particularly his mother who, in spite of her stunning clothes and scintillating jewellery, was absolutely down-to-earth. Quite a few of the guests from the gala were dining at the restaurant, which was decorated with autographed photographs of the many show-business stars who had eaten there.

  "I saw Frank Sinatra here years ago," Fabian said as they were waiting for their first course to arrive. "To tell you the truth, his blue eyes aren't a patch on mine… but he does sing better!"

  "Are you sure, darling?" his mother asked him.

  "I think so! Well, let's give him the benefit of the doubt anyway!" Fabian replied magnanimously.

  Conversation over dinner didn't flag for a moment, and Pippa found Fabian's parents perfectly charming. They quite took her mind off the problems she envisaged the following morning with Hubert. It was shortly before midnight when they finished their meal but Pippa felt remarkably fresh. After she had said good night to his parents, Fabian asked her if she felt like dancing.

  "It's midnight!"

  "I won't turn into a pumpkin if you won't!" Fabian said with a smile. "And it would be a nice way to round off the evening."

  "It would, wouldn't it?" Pippa agreed, dismissing thoughts of work from her mind. Since Hubert was no doubt going to give her an earful in the morning anyway, tiredness might help to anaesthetise it!

  "I'm a member of a place in Mayfair quite near my shop."

  So off they went to Mayfair and to the nightclub which, in the smoky twilight, looked like a glorified discotheque. Fabian ordered a couple of Irish coffees and put his arm around her. Pippa had no desire to resist.

  "Glad you came?" Fabian asked her as they sipped lavish flutes of Irish coffee.

  "Oh, yes," Pippa replied with genuine enthusiasm. "Apart from seeing Hubert, it's been wonderful."

  "You're not worried about him, are you?"

  "Not really. The worst he can do is fire me."

  "I'm sure he won't. But you might have lost a couple of Brownie points cavorting with me. Still, I'm sure you think I'm worth it."

  "Stop fishing!"

  "All right! Let's dance."

  He was an outstanding dancer, Pippa thought. His body moved in perfect time, exuding unmistakable sensuality. He was lithe and slim and as the tempo increased he tugged at his bow-tie so that it hung straddled round his collar. Pippa found her evening dress a little restricting, but his rhythm was infectious and, though she couldn't dance quite as extravagantly, they seemed perfectly co-ordinated. Then the record finished and the tempo changed altogether, but they didn't leave the floor. They both recognised the opening bars of Frank Sinatra's "Strangers in the Night" and, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, drifted into each other's arms.

  "He does sing better than me!" Fabian murmured, holding her gently. She could feel his heart beating rapidly. The warmth of his body was strangely magnetic and she wanted him to hold her even closer. She didn't have to say anything. She shut her eyes, placing her hand nervously on his strong back.

  Fabian sang gently in time with Sinatra, and she looked up into his eyes which were suddenly so close to hers they blurred in front of her. His lips touched hers gently, and he clasped her tightly to him. Kissing him made her feel as if she was floating in space. She couldn't even hear the music any more. She was lost in the power of his passion and she wanted it to last for ever. Why did she ever have to breathe again? And when finally they let each other go, she looked away, her heart pounding, her mind confused, her body yearning for more.

  They said nothing to each other, for there was nothing to say. Their bodies had said it all. As Frank Sinatra faded in the background, Fabian took her hand and they walked back to their table. They smiled at each other but still said nothing. It was like a dream which Pippa feared might suddenly end, and she was scared to speak in case she broke the spell. To preserve the moment she would have taken an eternal vow of silence there and then, but she didn't
have the chance because one of the hostesses came over to them and asked if they would care for more drinks.

  "Not for me, thanks," Pippa said. What were food and drink when there was love in the air?

  "Nor me," said Fabian, stifling a yawn.

  Pippa looked at her watch. It was a quarter to two. They both knew it was time to go. It had been a wonderful evening, possibly far too wonderful for Pippa's own good.

  "Come on, I'll run you back."

  "It's been lovely, Fabian."

  He looked at her with surprise. "That's the first time you've called me Fabian."

  "I can call you Mr. Naughton, if you like."

  "I don't like! Let's go."

  They left the nightclub and strolled back to the car, hand in hand. The roads were virtually empty and Fabian reached Pippa's flat in under ten minutes.

  "I'll see you to your door."

  He helped her out of the car and stood close behind her, just as he had the very first time he had brought her back. And although he didn't say a word, his body was speaking volumes. She knew he wanted to come in. She knew he wanted to make love to her. And yet instinctively she knew that to succumb to his desires so soon was wrong. Knowledge of his feelings, however, did not solve the problem of how to keep him at bay. She did not want to offend him but at the same time she had no wish to compromise herself.

  "I must be going," Fabian said, sensitively recognising her unspoken feelings.

  "It's been lovely. Thank you for everything."

  "My pleasure. I've enjoyed it, too." Then he kissed her lightly on the cheek, but even the gentle pressure of his lips against her skin aroused feelings of passion she had not expected from so innocent a gesture. Then he ran back to his car.

  As she slipped out of her evening clothes and prepared for bed, Pippa felt like Cinderella after the ball. But setting her alarm clock for a quarter to eight brought her back to reality with a bump. The feeling was heightened when she actually awoke five hours later, tired, groggy and with a headache. She certainly wasn't in the mood for work, and when she remembered that she would have to face Hubert as well she was tempted to pull the duvet over her head and go back to sleep. She knew, though, that she would have to face the music sooner or later so, reluctantly, she pulled herself together and made her way down to the gallery.

  "You look rough!" Diana said as soon as she saw her.

  "I feel it! Is Hubert in?" Pippa asked.

  "Not yet."

  "Diana, I owe you an apology," Pippa began, deciding to come clean before Diana found out about the events of the previous evening.

  "An apology for what?"

  "I went out with Fabian Naughton last night and I didn't tell you."

  Diana laughed. "We're all entitled to our secrets."

  "I'll tell you another one. Hubert was there and he saw me," Pippa confessed.

  "You were at the charity show? You should have told me that. I could have warned you that Hubert was going."

  "I wish I had! I can assure you he didn't look pleased to see me."

  "Well, it's none of his business who you go out with," Diana said supportively.

  "I know, but I don't want to hurt him. He's been so good to me."

  "Don't worry. You know his bark's always worse than his bite."

  But when she did see Hubert later in the morning, he neither barked nor bit. He greeted her quite normally as if nothing had happened at all, and Pippa thought he wasn't going to mention it. It was only in the afternoon that he brought up the subject and invited her into his office for a chat.

  "Did you enjoy yourself last night?" he asked her.

  "Yes, thank you. And you?"

  "Indeed." He hesitated for a moment and cleared his throat. "Pippa, I couldn't help but notice your escort for the evening and, though you are perfectly entitled to see whomsoever you wish, I am most concerned that your social activities do not interfere with my business, particularly as I may be selling up shortly. Now, after what happened at Aspley Manor, I think it's reasonable to regard young Naughton as a threat, and I have to say that I am anxious that you are not used and abused for his distasteful purposes."

  Pippa listened to him carefully, then rallied to Fabian's defence. "I don't think he's a threat any more, and he has apologised to me for what happened at Aspley. He's really a very nice guy. I don't think he's quite as black as you paint him. You know he organised that whole charity thing last night?"

  Hubert listened but was unimpressed. "That's as may be, but the fact remains that he is a potential risk. You've only got to mention in casual conversation that you or I are going to such and such an auction and he's got the perfect opportunity to pull the Aspley stunt."

  "But we don't talk business, I promise. I wouldn't betray you." Her voice was cracking with indignation.

  "Not intentionally, I'm sure. He's no fool, you know. All I am saying, Pippa, is that if I do find that Naughton is acquiring information through you I shall be extremely concerned. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Then we'll say no more about it."

  But it wasn't quite as easy as that, for a little later in the afternoon King Kong—or at least somebody in a gorilla suit—came into the shop to deliver a "kissogram", just as Pippa was about to complete the sale of a lovely desk to an American gentleman in a violent blue and white checked jacket.

  "I've got a kissogram for Miss Pippa Gibson," said the voice within the suit. His voice was totally incongruous and sounded rather precious, as if he had been to a public school for apes.

  The American roared with laughter and Pippa froze. Diana and Hubert came out of their offices and Hubert nearly exploded when he saw the hairy gorilla wandering casually around the precious antique furniture.

  "What the devil's going on?" Hubert stormed.

  "I've got an Ode to Philippa," the ape began and removed a scroll of paper from a decidedly hairy pocket. "Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin:

  'To Philippa Gibson, a maiden so fair

  With beautiful eyes and such lovely blonde hair,

  Please treasure this ode from your most loving fan

  A handsome and modest, most eligible man!

  You have to believe that his feelings are true

  Since he only has eyes for wonderful you.

  Deep down you must know that you feel the same,

  You fabulous mystical marvellous dame!

  So here is a kiss from an amorous monkey

  Sent on the behalf of someone so hunky!' "

  With which King Kong planted a splodgy kiss on Pippa's cheek, presented her with the scroll and then danced out of the shop. Diana and the American gentleman were having hysterics. Pippa was positively bemused.

  "You should see your face!" Diana said. "It's a picture!" She laughed even more loudly and began clutching her ribs.

  "I'm gonna buy that desk, Philippa! I'll laugh each time I sit at it," announced Mr. Marrick, the American.

  "Good!" said Pippa as enthusiastically as possible, hoping that the sale would help soothe Hubert's fury. But it did not appear to make any difference for he stomped off to his office. She feared she was going to get into trouble even though it had nothing to do with her, and she wasn't surprised when Hubert summoned her into his office.

  "I take it we have Fabian Naughton to thank for that disgraceful display."

  "I would imagine so," Pippa said.

  "I am not amused, Pippa. This is a business not a funfair. Furthermore, it's a business that's up for sale, and it's scarcely a desirable commodity if it's full of baboons."

  "I'm terribly sorry, but I had no idea it was going to happen."

  "The point is, Pippa, that Naughton is interfering with the running of my business and I will not tolerate it!"

  "But you can't hold me responsible for his actions," Pippa said indignantly, her temper beginning to flare.

  "I can if you're actively encouraging him, and by going out with him you're doing precisely that," Hubert retort
ed.

  "Well, if I can't go out with him then maybe I shouldn't be working here at all." And before she could stop herself she said, "Would you like me to leave?"

  Hubert said nothing for a moment but he looked as if he was having great difficulty in containing his anger.

  "Of course I don't want you to leave, but I don't think you appreciate the sort of man Naughton is."

  "I think I do. He's fabulous."

  "I don't know what to say, Pippa." Hubert shook his head with disbelief. "I'm beginning to think you should take a few days off to think it over. Yes, you do that. Go away and think about it and come back next Monday. And kindly inform Naughton that you will not be here to receive baboons or anything else for that matter." He opened his office door to show her out.

  Pippa's head was pounding. For the first time she realised how the Incredible Hulk must feel as anger inflates his body. Pippa felt as if every blood vessel was about to burst. It was all so horribly unfair.

  "Are you OK?" Diana asked as she came out of Hubert's office.

  Pippa shook her head. She wanted to speak but she couldn't.

  "What on earth's the matter?"

  Pippa took a deep breath and began to explain.

  "What can I say?" Diana asked helplessly.

  "It's so ridiculous!" Outrage was beginning to give way to self-pity, and Pippa's voice was cracking with emotion as the tears started to well behind her eyes.

  "Have a good cry. It'll make you feel better."

  Although Pippa felt a little calmer after a swift weep, she was still incredibly angry, not only with Hubert but also with Fabian. After she had left the gallery she walked back to her flat through Hyde Park, mulling over her predicament. What irritated her particularly was that Fabian seemed intent on embarrassing her at work. He could have sent the snuffbox to her flat—likewise the gorilla—but he hadn't. Not for the first time was she beginning to wish that she had never set eyes on him—though that was no solution to her present muddle. She made herself a mug of coffee but her head was aching and she decided to lie down for a few minutes. Desmond, her loyal one-eyed teddy bear, looked at her sympathetically, and she spoke to him as she always did when she was unhappy.