by Melissa Hill
Natalie shook her head. “I really admire you, Tara. You’ve really got it all under control – you and Glenn, your career, family, friends.”
“Under control? I wish!” Tara laughed easily. “Natalie, my youngest sister is pregnant by a mystery man, which of course means the whole family is up in arms, my best friend is going through a marriage crisis and these days Glenn and I are so busy with work that we barely see one another. It’s not half as calm and controlled as you make it sound!”
“And then you’ve got me whining on about my relationship problems too,” Natalie said, feeling guilty. “God, I’m frightfully sorry, Tara – I really didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.”
“Oh Natalie, no, don’t be silly, that’s not at all what I meant! To be honest, I’m enjoying this – and I think we’re making very good progress.”
“We certainly are!” Natalie laughed, relieved that at least Tara seemed to be getting some enjoyment out of all of this. “But are you sure you’ve got time to deal with me and my stupid problems too? It sounds as though you’ve got a lot going on at the moment.”
“Natalie, honestly – if I didn’t have you to boss around at the end of the day, I don’t know what I’d do! So, stop going on about it – I’m really having fun with this, honestly.”
“Well, as long as you’re sure.”
“Believe me – I’m sure.”
“Your sister is still keeping mum about the father of her baby?” she asked, recalling how Tara had confided this while they were on holidays.
“Yep – there isn’t a peep out of her and if I didn’t know better I’d swear she was enjoying all the attention she’s getting by keeping us in the dark. So, of course, the rest of us are driven mad trying to figure out who it might be – my friend Liz in particular,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
“The one who’s having the marriage crisis?” Natalie clarified, and the penny dropped. “Oh. Does your friend think it might be –”
“Honestly, Natalie, I’m not really sure,” Tara interjected quickly. “I don’t think it’s a possibility but . . . well, you just never know. Anyway, we shouldn’t really be talking about me and my situation – what about Jay? What did he sound like when he phoned earlier?”
Natalie knew when she was getting the brush-off. Tara was probably uncomfortable discussing her best friend’s private business with a complete stranger, although Natalie was hardly that now. The two of them had spent ages over the last few weeks discussing what was the best way forward with Jay, and Natalie had already admitted all her past embarrassing mistakes. In fact, she thought, Tara Harrington now knew more about her than possibly all of her friends put together! She and Freya phoned one another now and again, but there was little to say.
Freya was dreadfully irritable because of the pregnancy and clearly wasn’t the slightest bit interested in hearing about Natalie’s life, and while of course Natalie wanted to be there for her friend, she knew deep down that Freya didn’t need her. Why would she when she had Simon and all the other yummy mummies in Richmond to confide in? And at the end of the day, they could give her a lot more advice than Natalie ever could about what she was going through.
Maybe things would get better when the baby was born, or maybe not. Perhaps Natalie just had to come to terms with the fact that the friendship she and Freya now had was based on mental nights out in London many years ago, and while they’d had lots of fun in their twenties, there just wasn’t enough in the friendship to sustain it into their latter years. Latter years? Goodness, now she was thinking like a pensioner!
“Well,” she told Tara, in response to her earlier question about Jay, “apparently, this time, he’s cooking dinner for us at his place.”
“I’m beginning to get a teeny bit concerned about this guy,” Tara said, although her tone was humorous. “He’s gorgeous, successful, single – and he can cook too? Are you absolutely sure he’s an Irishman?”
Natalie laughed. “I know – besides being Irish, I’m beginning to wonder if he’s really a man at all! But, Tara, you know this will be a serious test, don’t you? Me being with him on my own – in private?”
“Let me have a think about this for a second. It’s been, what, three or four weeks since you two first met, and this will be the third date?”
“Yes.” Natalie was beginning to get excited. Would Tara give her permission to sleep with Jay this time? If so, she was going straight to Selfridges after work to pick up some decent Agent Provocateur underwear and –
“No, it’s still not time. I think you should definitely hold off for one more date.”
“What?” Natalie wailed. “But I’ll be at his place, near his bedroom and –”
“I’m serious, Natalie, don’t give in just yet. Anyway, speaking of giving in, he hasn’t been pushy about that, has he?”
“Well, no.”
That was a good point, Natalie decided. Jay hadn’t tried anything – at all. They’d kissed, of course, nice but brief goodbye kisses in cabs at the end of the evening, but nothing major or spine-tingly. Goodness, he’d better not be gay, she thought, horrified. Maybe that’s why he seemed so bloody perfect!
Tara was right. Forget the new underwear. She’d go to his place on Saturday night for dinner and just wait and see what happened. And if Jay didn’t make any sort of move on her, well, there was no bloody point in her jumping on him, was there? If he were the other way inclined, which she now thought was a bloody good possibility, then no amount of push-up basques and silk stockings would do it for him, would they?
“So,” Tara asked the all-important question, “on a scale of one to ten, ten being totally committed, how committed are you to not sleeping with him on your next date?”
“Ten, definitely ten,” Natalie replied with feeling.
“Good woman. It’ll be worth it in the end, you know that, don’t you? And this upcoming date will be a very good test.”
Yes, Friday night would certainly be a bit of a test, Natalie agreed.
And she hoped to goodness that Jay Murray would pass it with flying colours.
Chapter 24
Dinner at Jay’s place for their next date had sounded straightforward enough, but as Natalie discovered while the train they were on zipped forward to its destination, there was nothing at all straightforward about Jay Murray.
She supposed she should have realised something was up when they spoke on the phone earlier in the week to arrange it, and Jay had insisted on sending a cab to collect her at her flat, instead of just giving her his address.
Then, when the cab did collect her, the driver had eventually dropped her off at Waterloo station, where a smiling Jay greeted her at the entrance.
“What’s going on?” Natalie asked, bewildered, as they walked inside the train station. “Why are we here?”
“I told you – we’re having dinner at my place.”
“Yes, but I thought you lived in –”
“I do, but I have another place elsewhere, so I thought I’d cook for you there if that’s OK.”
“Another place? Where?” Natalie was in no mood nor in the right state of dress to go trekking down to Dorset or wherever it was that well-off London executives had second homes these days.
She’d chosen a deliberately provocative yet understated outfit this evening: a red low-cut V-neck cashmere sweater worn over a slim-fitting black satin pencil skirt and the obligatory five-inch heels. She didn’t want to look too dressed up for a quiet night in, yet she wanted to be sure she looked good enough for Jay to at least want to tear her clothes off!
Now that the idea he might be gay had inveigled itself into her thoughts, Natalie couldn’t think of anything else. It had to be the reason he hadn’t yet been snapped up by some woman, didn’t it?
“Why don’t you go and get a coffee while you wait?”
Wait for what? Natalie wanted to scream with frustration at him, but just as quickly he answered her unspoken question.
“I’ll just go and get our tickets.”
Natalie ordered a latte for herself and another for Jay before sinking gratefully into one of the coffee bar’s oversized armchairs, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what on earth was going on. Why was he being so mysterious? And what idiot thought that taking a girl on a train on a busy Friday evening was a nice idea for a date?
A few minutes later, Jay appeared alongside her table. “Ready to go? Sorry to rush you, but our train is just about to leave.”
“Where are we going, Jay?”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” he said, his tone cool as a cucumber. “On the Eurostar.”
Natalie’s mouth dropped open as the penny dropped. “To Paris? You have a house in Paris?”
Jay smiled insouciantly at her. “Well, it’s an apartment actually. Is that OK with you?”
“But – but what about a quiet night in sampling your cooking?” Natalie was so overwhelmed she could hardly take it in. Paris! Thank God she hadn’t decided to dress down in a pair of jeans or something like that. At least the Audrey Hepburn-style outfit she was wearing would look fine alongside Parisian haute couture. But Paris – oh wow! Natalie grinned delightedly.
“Well, that’s still the plan,” Jay told her. “I thought it might be a nice idea to go and cook up something nice there instead of Finchley.”
“But . . . don’t I need a passport or . . . oh God, it’s at the office. Danni needed it to arrange some visa or other for a trip I’m taking to the States soon.”
Jay smiled knowingly. “That’s what she told you.”
Natalie looked at him, shocked, as all at once she realised that he had arranged all this behind her back with her assistant as a willing accomplice. She’d kill Danni on Monday morning for making her give up her passport under false pretences! Well, no, she wouldn’t really, because this was just wonderful – a truly wonderful surprise.
Here she was expecting a straightforward night in at some townhouse in North London and instead the man was whisking her off to Paris! Funny, she thought absently as she and Jay took their (first-class) seats on the Eurostar, how people always used that word “whisk” when speaking about being brought to Paris.
But in this case it was certainly true, Natalie thought now, as the train zoomed towards the most romantic city in the world – a city she’d always wanted to see, but would never dream of visiting on her own.
Paris wasn’t the kind of place a girl visited other than with someone special, and none of the men in Natalie’s life would have ever dreamed of taking her there. But it was becoming all too clear that Jay Murray was different to any man Natalie had ever been involved with before. She found the idea thrilling but also a little bit terrifying, the idea that there must be something wrong with him becoming all too sharply ingrained in her mind.
Yet, something Tara had mentioned before now came to the forefront of her mind. Why shouldn’t she be treated like this? Why shouldn’t a man like Jay want to impress or do something special for someone like her, Natalie Webb, who (according to Tara anyway) was just as attractive and as good a “catch” as he was?
And there was nothing wrong with her, was there? Well, she thought grimacing, apart from the fact that she had a tendency to come over a little on the “strong” side whenever a man paid her some attention. But she was over all that now.
And, speaking of Tara, she would be totally gobsmacked when she heard about this!
“You’re very quiet,” Jay remarked from alongside her. “Is all this OK with you? I hope I didn’t overwhelm you too much or make you uncomfortable – it’s just I wanted to do something special.”
“Are you mad? This is amazing! No, I’m just thinking about how jealous everyone will be when I tell them all about this.”
“Phew!” he said in mock-relief. “I was thinking I might have made a serious cock-up. It’s just . . . Natalie, I know you’re used to being wined and dined in the best places in London, and you admitted yourself that you’re bored with all of that. I suppose I’m deliberately trying to up the ante by trying to be a little bit imaginative.”
He sounded so sincere that Natalie wanted to hug him. Imagine doing all this just for her!
“Jay, please don’t think that because I’ve overdosed a bit on foie gras you have to do all this. I’m just happy spending time with you, and it doesn’t matter if it’s afternoon tea at the Ritz or greasy burgers at TGI Friday’s. Now, don’t get me wrong – I’m loving all this, and visiting this city has been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember – but you really shouldn’t feel you have to do something extravagant all the time.” She grinned broadly. “Paris, I can’t wait!”
“You’re going to love it,” Jay assured her, taking her hand in his.
His “place” was an amazing Haussmann-style apartment not far from the 4th Arrondissement, which, considering property prices in Paris were some of the highest in Europe, must have cost him an absolute fortune.
“It’s a leaseback actually,” Jay told her, when Natalie remarked how expensive it must have been. “I get to use it for only a couple of weeks a year, and I have to book them well in advance, no matter whether I use it or not. So this wasn’t as spontaneous as it might look,” he added wryly, pouring her a glass of wine, while she sat at the counter and watched him prepare dinner. “I knew I’d booked it free this week, and again for a couple of weeks at the end of the year, so I thought why not make the most of it? And of course,” he said with a wink, “it gave me the perfect opportunity to impress you.”
“It certainly did. So how does the leaseback thing work, then? The rent pays your mortgage?”
Jay nodded. “It’s part of a scheme operated by the French government. I paid upfront for the property, and they gave me twenty per cent of the asking price back. So in effect, you’re only paying eighty per cent of what it’s worth. Then the leaseback company take charge of renting it out and all that, and as you say the rent pays some, but not all, of the mortgage. I need to contribute something too. But hopefully by the time the leaseback period is finished, it will be worth something so . . .” He shrugged as if being the owner of an amazing city centre Parisian apartment was no big deal.
“Great investment,” Natalie agreed. “I wish I’d thought of doing something like this ages ago, but I suppose I’m still hanging onto my dream of affording something in Belgravia.” She sighed dreamily.
Jay laughed. “You publicists are obviously earning much more than I thought!”
“I did say it was a dream,” she replied, making a face at him. “But honestly, I really adore this place – your own little piece of Paris, it’s heavenly.”
“I’m glad you like it and, to be truthful, it’s nice to have someone to enjoy it with.”
Natalie raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t bring any of your previous girlfriends here?” Or boyfriends, a wicked voice piped up inside her, and she gulped.
“I’ve only had it a year, and seeing as I broke up with my last girlfriend over a year ago . . .” The rest of his sentence trailed off, as he went to check the food in the oven. Behind his back, Natalie smiled, pleased that he’d taken the bait, and even more, that his reply had put to rest the idea that he might be gay.
From what she could make out, he was preparing some kind of casserole, which in a way was a little bit of a letdown. There was a side of her that was sorry they weren’t going out to some cosy Parisian restaurant on the Left Bank – despite her protestations that she’d tired of fine food – but no doubt whatever Jay had in mind would be gorgeous.
It was. When they eventually sat down to eat, not two hours after their arrival in the French capital, Natalie realised that, along with all his other attributes, Jay was a seriously good cook.
“What’s the catch?” she asked him, as she tucked into the most fantastic beef bourguignon she had ever tasted. “What am I missing here?”
“Catch – what do you mean?” Jay said, looking a little worried.
“Well,
this is clearly the nicest beef thingamajig I’ve ever tasted, and most men I know can barely boil a kettle, so what gives?”
“The best you’ve ever tasted? Wow, that’s a hell of compliment. I’ll be sure to pass it on to the boys.”
“What boys? Oh, let me guess, you’ve got an army of bloody servants dancing attendance on you too, have you? Bloody hell, Jay, who are you?” she said, dropping her fork. “I’m sorry that I haven’t had time to Google you before now. When I do, I’ll probably find that you’re a descendant of the Queen!”
“Do people really do that?” Jay said, laughing. “Look people up on the Internet?”
“Of course. Don’t you?”
“Um – no,” he said as if the thought had never, ever crossed his mind.
“Well, you should – you never know who you’re dealing with these days.”
Jay chuckled. “Now I know why you’re so successful in your work. You know everyone’s deepest, darkest secrets.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Natalie said, taking another forkful of food. “Do you have an army of servants dancing attendance on you, and making delicious beef thingamajigs for your lady friends?”
“I told you – I don’t know who all these lady friends are that you’re talking about,” he insisted, before adding casually, “and the boys I referred to are Marks and Spencer – this is from their Finest range – six ninety-nine a piece.”
For a long moment, Natalie just stared at her plate. “Bloody hell! I definitely eat out too much!” she laughed, before launching straight back into her food.
They chatted for ages over dinner, finding out more about one another’s likes and dislikes, where they’d travelled, where they’d like to travel in the future, and the more they talked the more Natalie found herself liking him. This – date or relationship or whatever it was – was so different to anything that had gone before. They had so much in common and seemed to share so many similar values that it was quite frightening really. Was this what Tara had been talking about? About Natalie finding out these things about the men she dated instead of just zooming onto the possibility of marriage like a radar missile? If so, she had to admit it was pretty good advice. Totally obvious, of course, but sometimes these things needed to be pointed out; in her case they’d certainly needed pointing out!
