Mr Van Der Haus? Oh, he’s the other partner. I’ve not met him.
‘My partner insisted on it.’ Van Der Haus says, smiling broadly. He’s very classy – all tall and white blonde, with a bespoke suit and dress shoes. He’s quite handsome…for a mid-forties man – Another older man.
I blush. ‘I would be delighted, Mr Van Der Haus. What have you got in mind for the next project?’ I ask eagerly.
‘Please, call me Mikael. The building is nearly complete,’ He broadens his smile. ‘We have settled on traditional Scandinavian. We’re going back to our roots.’ His mild Danish accent is really sexy.
Traditional Scandinavian? Okay, this most definitely panics me. Does this mean I’ll be hijacking Ikea? Shouldn’t they employ someone Scandinavian for this? ‘It sounds exciting.’ I say, turning to place my glass on the worktop, spotting Jesse across the room with Sarah as I do.
Oh God. He’s drilling holes into me, and Sarah’s stood right bloody there. I swivel back to face my audience. The panic must be clear on my burning face.
‘I think so,’ Mikael agrees. ‘Once I’ve discussed a favourable fee with Patrick,’ He points his champagne glass at my boss. ‘We can start building a specification, then you can get started on some designs.’
‘I look forward to it.’ I shift on the spot. I can still feel Jesse’s eyes burning into my back.
‘She won’t disappoint you, Mikael.’ Patrick chirps.
He smiles. ‘I know she won’t. You’re an exceptionally talented young woman, Ava. Your vision is impeccable. Now, if you’ll excuse me,’ I feel the colour deepening in my face as he shakes Patrick’s hand and then mine. ‘I will be in touch.’ he says, holding my hand in his, a little longer than necessary, before releasing it, strolling off and greeting an Arab man.
I’m still tucked tightly under Patrick’s arm as Victoria approaches us and leans against the worktop on a huff.
‘My feet are killing me.’ she exclaims.
In unison, Patrick and I look down at her six inch leopard print platforms with blood red piping. They’re ridiculous.
Patrick looks at me, shaking his head, before releasing his hold and declaring his departure. ‘Irene will be waiting for me downstairs. I’ve got all the photographs,’ He waves his camera at me. ‘I’ll see you on Monday morning.’ He kisses each of us. ‘You’ve both worked hard tonight. Well done.’ He takes his big body out of the kitchen, staggering slightly as he does.
Worked hard? I cringe.
‘Oh, I nearly forgot,’ Victoria drags my eyes away from Patrick’s swaying body, back to her. ‘Kate said she couldn’t wait around for you anymore, something about ice cream.’ She shrugs. ‘She said that she hopes you’ve had fun and she’ll see you at home.’
Hopes I’ve had fun? Sardonic cow!
‘Thanks, Victoria. Listen, I think we’re done here.’ I pick up one more glass of champagne as the waiter passes. I can’t drive, so I may as well make the most of it. And damn, I need it. ‘I’m heading home. Go when you’re ready. I’ll see you on Monday.’ I kiss her cheek.
‘I’m going to hang around for a bit with Tom. He wants to go to Route Sixty for a dance.’ She shakes her bum.
‘Be prepared for a late one.’ I warn. Once Tom’s on the dance floor you need a bulldozer to get him off.
‘No! I told him, I can’t stay late. I’ve got too much to do tomorrow. And I can hardly walk in these stupid shoes.’
‘Good luck with that. Say bye to Tom for me.’
‘I will when I find him.’ She limps off in her ridiculous heels, leaving me to finish my last glass of champagne.