Lovers' Dance

Chapter 10.2

Matt kept the strained smile on his face as he conversed with a couple of his parents’ friends. Internally, he was fuming. When he’d spoken to his mother, she’d given the impression it would be a relaxed family dinner. This was anything but. Had she done this on purpose? He wouldn’t put it past her. Matt tried to curb his negative assessment of his mother. Maybe this was her way of showing her friends she was fine with Matt’s new girlfriend. Maybe not, he thought as he glanced over to where the Gillifords stood in deep conversation with his grandfather. Louisa was a guest along with her parents. Bloody hell. What had his mother been thinking? After the necessary perfunctory greetings, Matt had avoided his ex-lover like the plague. He stifled his annoyance and agreed with Carter Bishop about the worry the man had over the government’s draconian measures in place to crack down on tax evasion. Matt spared a look past his shoulder. Where was she? Madi should be changed by now. The glimmer of a real smile tickled the edges of his mouth. His sweet poppet. The look on her face when he pulled her out of the pool. Priceless. The way she kept her calm when he introduced her to his family filled him with pride. Matt wasn’t a fool though, he suspected his laughter over the pool incident would earn him some form of well-deserved punishment at her hands. He glanced at the double doors leading off the grand salon. Where was she?

Hannah glided over with Stuart on her heels. The Bishops, on seeing their approach, politely wandered away.

“Have the girls not come down yet?” Stuart asked, swishing the whiskey in his tumbler.

Matt arched an eyebrow at his brother-in-law. His tone was dry. “Do you see them anywhere?”

Hannah smacked Matt’s arm, narrowing her grey-blue eyes at him. “The girls are probably getting to know her.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I love my nieces, but they never shut up,” Matt drawled, and Hannah gently smacked his arm.

“She seems nice, Matty,” Hannah said softly. There was a touch of uncertainty in her voice.

Matt winced at her use of his childhood nickname, but smiled at his only sister. “She is, Hannah.”

Hannah peered at his face, as if searching for some indication of how he truly felt.

Stuart cleared his throat softly. Not wanting to be left out of the conversation, he added, “Adam mentioned something about her owning a dance company. Is she classically trained?”

Matt shot him a suspicious look as he nodded. “She attended the School of American Ballet. You can ask her about it when she comes down.” He glanced at the double doors. “If she can escape your girls.”

“Stuart, darling.” Hannah dimpled up at her husband. “Go see what the girls are up to. I want to have a word with Matt in private.”

Stuart promptly moved away. Matt covered his amused chuckle with a fake cough. Hannah might no longer carry the Bradley name, but she was a Bradley through and through. She wore the pants in her marriage.

“So,” she began, twirling the champagne flute between her well-manicured fingers.

“So,” Matt repeated, eyeing her intently. Hannah could be outrageous sometimes. He hoped now was not one of those times.

“It must be awkward for you.” Hannah glanced over in the direction of the Gillifords speaking to their grandfather. “What with Louisa being here.”

Matt shrugged. “It’s unexpected. Bearable, but definitely unexpected.”

Hannah nodded. “Yes, I have no idea what Mother was thinking, but you know how persistent she can be. She’s not pleased with the recent publicity.”

“Neither am I, Hannah,” Matt said curtly.

Hannah didn’t react to the obvious change in his demeanour. Instead, she reached up with her free hand and fixed the collar of his shirt. “Does Madison know about your past with Louisa?”

Matt felt a spurt of alarm. “No, and I’d rather she didn’t.”

Hannah scoffed lightly. “I can’t see how it can be avoided, Matt. They’ll be seated at the same table, and you know what Louisa Gilliford is like. Completely obsessed with you. She’s determined to have you and our name.” Hannah waved that unsettling comment away to say, “Adam told me he had dinner at your place in Kensington last night, with Madison.” That uncertain air returned to hover around her.

Matt simply waited for her to continue with whatever she was getting at while his mind frantically tried to work out a way of explaining his past relationship to Madi.

“He mentioned something you may have said.”

Matt’s mouth tightened slightly.

Hannah noticed, but she forged on. “Do you honestly feel that strongly about this woman, Matthew?”

Matt pondered his sister’s words for a moment, then said the only thing he could, “Yes, I do.”

She scrutinized his face for a few minutes. Matt held her unwavering gaze and grinned like a schoolboy.

“I hope she’s worth it.”

“She is,” Matt informed her, still grinning.

Hannah cocked her head at him. “Would you like me to speak to our parents on your behalf?”

Matt shook his head. “I am far from being a child anymore, Hannah. You don’t have to intercede on my behalf. Thank you, though. Don’t tell Adam, but you’re my favourite sibling.”

She chuckled and swatted his arm. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have protested so much when Stuart made known his intentions to marry me all those years ago. And you would spend more time with the girls. They hardly see you.”

Matt leaned over to press a kiss to Hannah’s cheek. “First of all, you and Stuart together seems a bit incestuous to me.” Matt received a mock glare from his sister. He continued jokingly. “Spend more time with Terror and Trouble? You must be losing your mind. I’d rather give up my claim to the inheritance fortune.”

Whatever retort Hannah planned on making wasn’t uttered as they saw Louisa gliding over to them.

“Bollocks,” Matt muttered under his breath.

“Indeed,” Hannah murmured back. “Would you like me to play interference for you?”

“No, I might as well deal wi—” Matt broke off to coolly regard the blonde bombshell who was a few feet away.

“Matt, darling,” she crooned, closing the distance between them. “I feel thoroughly neglected by you tonight.”

“Don’t be silly, Louisa. No one could possibly ignore you,” he said pleasantly, gripping Hannah’s arm when she tried to slip away. Matt was more than capable of dealing with Louisa, but if it could be avoided, then he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. She’d been giving him bedroom eyes from the moment he said hello.

“How’s your charity work going?” Matt asked into the charged silence. He saw her change of expression and knew what it meant. She was angry and trying to hide it.

“Fine,” she said. “It’s been ages since we’ve seen each other. We’re long overdue a catch up.”

Matt knew exactly what sort of catch up she was implying. The bedroom eyes were back. His gaze wandered over her impeccably dressed form before returning to her face. Yes, Louisa was beautiful, there was no doubt about her stunning features.

But Madi was perfect.

The realization that, only a few months ago, he’d resigned himself to proposing to the woman standing in front of him was just this side of terrifying. Matt felt giddy relief blossoming inside. That relief turned to something more intense and all the more consuming when he saw Stuart ushering Madi and the girls—

“What on earth?” Hannah exclaimed, before jerking away from Matt and striding towards her husband and children. Matt gave Louisa a distracted smile before hurrying after his sister.

Madi’s eyes brightened when they rested on him, and he couldn’t stop the tender smile on his face.

“Natalia,” Hannah scolded in hushed tones. “Why have you changed clothes?”

Matt spared a glance at his nieces. Their sleek dresses had been replaced by jeans and t-shirts.

“Why do you always start in on me, Mum? Nikki’s changed, too,” Natty hissed back.

Matt turned his attention back to Madi. He reached out, slipping his large hand over her dainty one. “All right, poppet?”

“Yes, I am now. Does everyone know about the thing?” She peeked past his shoulders at his parents’ guests before her warm, brown eyes settled on his face.

“What thing?” Matt teased, then gently squeezed her hand when she pouted at him. “If anyone brings it up, I’ll tell them to sod off.”

His niece Nicole slid closer to them, and Matt reluctantly paid attention to the whispered spat taking place between his sister and her other daughter.

“Stop, Mum. You’re making a big deal about nothing. We didn’t want Madi to be the only one in jeans,” Natty said. “Who cares anyway? I don’t even want to be here.”

Matt released Madi’s hand, taking a few steps towards the members of his family. “Hannah, leave the girl alone. I think it’s sweet they changed.”

Natalia sent him a grateful smile before scowling at her mother. His brother-in-law exchanged a frustrated look with him. Matt felt sorry for the man. He was completely outnumbered by the women in his life.

“Should I say something?” Madi asked from his side. She was peering at Hannah and Natty with a guilty expression. Matt shook his head, raising a hand to smooth one of her wild curls back into place.

“They argue all the time, poppet. Let’s get you a drink, then I’ll introduce you to the other guests.”

“We’re taking her to meet Grumps,” Natty said, turning away from her mother’s unamused face. “Come on, Nikki.”

Matt watched as the twins practically swarmed over Madi and started dragging her away.

“Girls, I should—” he started to say, but they ignored him and, with Madi in tow, began to make their way over to where his grandfather sat. Matt turned to his sister, who was obviously annoyed if her flushed cheeks and virulent eyes were anything to go off. “It’s sweet, Hannah. They seem to like her.”

Hannah sighed as Stuart wrapped an arm around her waist. “Yes, you’re right. Natalia is so…so combative of late. I swear she’s trying to turn my hair grey.”

Matt surveyed his sister in her floor-length black and silver dress. Hannah’s chestnut hair didn’t have a strand of grey. Even though she was forty-one, her skin didn’t reflect the ravages of time. Of course, Matt knew she’d recently begun using Botox, something he felt she had no need of. But Hannah did as she pleased.

“And you wanted me to spend more time with them?” Matt joked in an attempt to lighten her mood.

Stuart, like everyone else in the grand salon, watched his daughters and Madi approach William Bradley, Sr. “Do you think it’s wise to let the girls introduce Madison to Grumps?”

“No.” Matt made a move forward but Hannah caught the edge of his dinner jacket, stopping him in his tracks.

“Leave them be, Matt. Grumps knows to behave. I’m sure he’ll be polite and Dad is coming over here anyway. He probably wants to talk business with you. Adam’s been avoiding him all night.”

Matt did notice his father’s looming stride in their direction. He smothered a groan while simultaneously looking around for Adam. His gaze tracked Madi’s movements, unconsciously resting on that sweet arse of hers and causing a stirring in his blood. Madison DuMont had no idea about the lethal effect she had on him. Matt repressed his ill-timed urges and affected a relaxed pose as his father drew nearer. Perhaps coming to dinner tonight had been a mistake after all, Matt mused. The more he dwelled on it, the more he regretted forcing this night on Madi. And himself.

>>>

“Why do you call him Grumps?” I asked quietly as the girls led me across the huge room. Everyone was staring at us, and I was secretly glad the girls had changed their clothes in a show of support.

“Because he’s always grumpy,” Nikki replied.

On that discomfiting note, we came to a stop in front the white-haired gentleman stiffly seated on a chair. There was a young woman behind the chair, dressed in a proper nurse’s uniform, and I wondered how old Matt’s grandfather was. The man looked ancient.

Cold, grey eyes looked up at me as Natty leaned forward to touch his hand reverently. She suddenly seemed calmer, almost as shy as Nikki.

“Grumps, we want you to meet Madi.”

“She’s Uncle Matt’s girlfriend, Grumps,” Nikki said, smiling sweetly at the old man.

Grumps arched an eyebrow at Nikki’s words, and I swear it was exactly the way Matt would do it. Was it genetic?

I straightened my shoulders and held out a sweaty palm. “Hello, Mr Bradley. I’m Madison DuMont.”

“Uncle Matt’s girlfriend,” Natty reiterated, unnecessarily might I add, unless he was hard of hearing.

Grumps took my hand and shook it firmly. Damn. He had a strong grip for his age. We peered at each other, his eyes travelling over me, pausing on my rambunctious curls before taking in my attire. He glanced at his great-granddaughters on either side of me, then returned that cold gaze of his to my face. Why hadn’t he released my hand yet? This was getting awkward.

“William Bradley,” he finally replied in a deep, firm voice that belied his years. “Senior.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, wondering if I should attempt to pull my darned hand away. Why wasn’t he letting go?

“So,” he started, holding my hand prisoner, “you’re Matthew’s girlfriend.”

I could hear the questioning tone in his statement.

I inhaled softly, mentally toughening up. “Yes, I am.”

“I see,” he said and fell silent, still holding my goddamned hand. The hell? I counted to five and took matters into my own hand.

“Could I have my hand back now?” I asked politely, realizing after the words left my mouth I hadn’t added a ‘please’. Shit. This Grumps was starting to freak me out. The corners of his mouth tightened ever so slightly, and I wasn’t certain, but there was definitely a gleam of something in his eyes.

“Of course,” he said, releasing my hand. I checked my sigh of relief and clasped my hands behind my back. I didn’t want to risk it getting captured again. Maybe he had a hand fetish.

Natty and Nikki stood demurely, as if awaiting instructions, and I was caught in the middle. It felt like being called in front of the principal at school to confess your misdeeds. I risked a slow, moving glance behind me, catching Matt’s gaze and mouthing “help” to him.

He smiled at me. It was mesmerizing. I couldn’t stop my answering smile. Fuck it. My man was hot stuff, and his family were going to be blown away by me. I silently pledged that, after tonight, they would be lighting up my phone begging us to come over.

A raspy clearing of a throat had my head jerking around. Grumps regarded me for a moment before turning to Nikki.

“Nicole, tell your grandmother to have dinner served at once.”

The teenager immediately spun around and raced off to find Matt’s mom.

“Grumps,” Natty said, touching his jacket covered arm this time. “Have you spoken to Mum about letting us get a car? She’s being ridiculous. All our friends have their own cars. It’s embarrassing.”

“Natalia, now is not the time to discuss this,” he chastised.

Natty’s lip quivered, but she nodded and was about to pull away when Grumps patted her hand resting on his arm.

“I’ll have a word with her tomorrow.”

She beamed at him, then beamed at me. I grinned back. Nothing quite like getting your first car. I remembered my first car back home in the States. It was a beat-up, old Volvo, but I loved it. It represented freedom.

Grumps signalled to the nurse, and she instantly came around to help him up from the chair. Natty and I stepped back to give her room.

“Ms DuMont.”

“Madi,” I corrected automatically.

“How long have you and my grandson been courting?”

Courting? No one used that word anymore. I played with the thought of saying we’d been doing the nasty for a few months, but I doubted Matt would appreciate me giving his granddad a heart attack.

“We’ve been seeing each other for a few months, Mr Bradley,” I responded, once again very polite. Grumps was eyeing me the same way Matt did whenever he thought I was being secretive—a probing look that made me uncomfortable. Come to think of it, Adam had given me the same look last night a couple of times. Did all the Bradley men act the same? That was a terrifying thought. I could barely deal with Matt.

“I see,” he said. I wondered exactly what did he see. The nurse moved forward gripping his arm, and Grumps huffed in annoyance. “I am fully capable of walking once I’m on my feet.”

She released him and stepped back. If his curt reprimand stung, she gave no outward indication of it.

“How long have you lived in England, Ms DuMont?” he asked, slowly smoothing his dark jacket over his stomach. “You’re obviously foreign.”

“I’m actually English,” I started as Natty came closer to her great-granddad.

“Really?” Grumps eyed me up and down again. “You don’t sound English, Ms DuMont.”

“It’s Madi, and that’s because I moved to the States when I was six,” I explained.

Grumps started moving forward, was quite spry for an old man, and I tried to do a quick mental calculation. Matt was thirty-seven, his parents must be around sixty, so that must make him—

“How old are you?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

“Too old for you, Ms DuMont,” he replied blandly. He walked off, dismissing me without a backward glance. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? I stared at his back, face twisted in confusion. I noticed Matt making his way over to me, and I forgot about Grumps and his cryptic comment. I forgot to breathe, only realizing it when my lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. How cheesy. Matt literally took my breath away.

“Hey,” I said with a smile when he stopped in front of me.

Matt shot Natty a worried look as he took my hand in his. “Did Grumps behave himself, Trouble?”

She nodded distractedly, peering in the direction her twin had gone. “He was fine. Uncle Matt, can you talk to mum? She won’t let us get a car.”

Matt tilted his head, a bemused smirk on his face. “I’m not getting involved, Trouble.”

Natty pouted at her uncle. “She’s being unfair. Everyone else has a car. Nikki and I are still being chauffeured around like babies.”

Matt shrugged. “That’s because you are babies. Now go away, I want to talk to Madi in private.”

Natty stuck her tongue out at him, then scampered away when Matt shook a threatening open palm at her. I laughed at their antics and my heart twisted at the fond expression on Matt’s face as he observed his niece’s departure. This was a new side to him I’d never seen before.

Matt turned his attention to me, intense grey eyes roving my face. “Poppet, there’s something you should know before dinner.”

I was staring at his lips. He had sexy lips. Every time I was near him, it made me horny.

“Poppet, listen to me,” he called and my eyes jerked upwards.

“Matt.” My voice was a husky whisper. “How long do we have to stay?”

He frowned, misunderstanding my intentions. “Don’t be like that. I know you’re scared of interacting with my family, but there’s no need for it. The girls seem to like you. I’m certain my parents will eventually come around. Stop fretting,” he ordered.

I blinked slowly at him, very slowly, while the tip of my tongue moistened my lips. Matt’s gaze zoned in on my mouth, then he cleared his throat softly as understanding dawned.

“Are you coming on to me, Madison DuMont?”

I nodded, glancing around to make sure no one could overhear us. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

His mouth split into a sensuous smile. “Absolutely nothing. After dinner, I’ll give you a tour of the house. We’ll stop by my old room, or we could wait until we get to my place. Your choice, poppet.”

He had done it again, sucked me into some sort of liquid vortex of promised pleasure. Matt raised my hand to his lips and pressed a fleeting kiss over my wrist. A flick of his tongue across my skin…Yeah, I was in the vortex.

Matt rubbed his free hand over his face. “Stop distracting me. I need to tell you something.”

I tried to focus. “What is it?” I inhaled deeply, chest rising, and Matt’s eyes dropped lower, no longer on my face. I grinned, liking the effect my small boobs had on him. If I kept this up, we mightn’t have to stay for a dinner I was dreading. Matt would come up with a plausible excuse, and he could take me to his home in Surrey and rock my world.

“Stop it, poppet.” Matt groaned, forcing his eyes upwards. “Otherwise, I won’t be held accountable for my actions, and I don’t think my parents would appreciate me bending you over that antique table and shagging you senseless in front their guests.”

I glanced at said table. It looked fragile. Maybe I should behave. Matt was a determined man and, once he made his mind up to do something, he would get it done.

“What did you want to tell me?” I clasped my hands in front me demurely. Seriously. Something was wrong with me. I needed to start acting right.

Matt took a shaky breath, then got serious as he reached out to grasp my clasped hands. “My ex is here.”

All horniness disappeared. I tugged my hand away.

“Excuse me?” Did I hear him right? His ex? I turned around, looking at the people milling around. When I turned back to face Matt, he looked as if he’d swallowed something foul. “Who?”

Matt sighed and his gaze slid over to the left. I followed the movement and died inside when I saw her.

“Oh my God, Matt,” I said, feeling like shit in my borrowed clothes and flip flops. The twins had come through for me on the shoe problem. “She’s…that’s your ex? Is she a frigging supermodel?”

“No. Don’t be silly, poppet,” he replied.

I didn’t believe him. The blonde woman I was staring at looked like a freaking goddess. What the hell? I watched her. Gorgeous wasn’t a good enough description. She was mouth-wateringly stunning, and looking over at us right at that moment.

I turned away and stared at the parquet flooring.

“Poppet.” Matt stroked a finger over my cheek. “I didn’t know she was going to be here tonight.”

I nodded, unable to look at anything else but the floor. Why would he want to be with me when he could be with her? I wasn’t ugly, I knew that, but—fuck me—I knew my level…and Matt’s ex was on a whole different level.

“Look at me,” Matt commanded softly. It took a few moments, but I did as he asked. He winked at me. “I don’t want her, I don’t love her, so stop frowning and smile. You’re the one I want.”

I chewed my inner cheeks and plastered a bright smile on my face. Matt’s eyebrows lowered as he scrutinized my expression.

“I didn’t know she’d be here, poppet,” he repeated.

“I believe you,” I said, fake smiling. “It would be in bad taste for you to bring me to a dinner party where your ex-girlfriend was a guest, and I know you wouldn’t do that. What is she doing here anyway?”

Matt looked away. It smacked of evasive manoeuvres. “Louisa is a childhood friend. I’ve known her all my life it seems, and both our families are very close.”

My smile stayed in place, but my heart sank lower. A childhood sweetheart? Oh shit. Now I felt worse. Nothing quite like your first experience of love. Was she his first love? Dante was my first love, never mind it was unrequited. He was my first love, and I still sometimes had vivid dreams about us hooking up. Of course, I was with Matt now and, most of the times after those ridiculous dreams, I would wake up with his strong arms wrapped around me chasing away thoughts of anyone else.

We stood there, both silent, observing each other with an uncomfortable feeling growing between us every passing second. Matt put on his trademark stern expression.

“This is not going to be an issue. I won’t allow it to be. She’s my past, and you’re my future. It looks like dinner is about to start so I want to see a real smile on your face, not that poor imitation which, by the way, isn’t fooling anyone. Smile.”

My smile got tighter as I lied. “It’s not fake and stop being bossy.”

Matt held an arm out for me, and I took it without hesitation as we began to follow the other guests. I couldn’t help staring at his ex. She was wearing a sophisticated black cocktail dress that hugged the lines of her figure. Her accessories: diamonds—and I knew they were the real thing. A pair of Louboutins finished her attire. I patted my wild curls self-consciously after noting the sleek chignon of blonde silkiness gracing her head. If she wasn’t a supermodel, then she was Aphrodite. And she was Matt’s ex.

“How long were you two together for?” I murmured as we walked through the massive double doors. We were the last ones to leave the salon.

“Long enough, poppet.”

I squeezed his arm and he twisted his head to arch that eyebrow at me.

“Bullshit answer, Matt.”

He nodded, jaw clenched tightly, before he sighed and shrugged. “Longer than I was happy with and this is not the time, nor the place, to have this discussion.”

He was wearing that aloof expression on his face, the one that signalled he was done talking about it. Whether or not I wanted the conversation to continue didn’t matter. I sighed and mentally prepared myself for the upcoming ordeal. It was bad enough I had embarrassed myself in front Matt’s family, although that situation wasn’t of my own doing. An unlucky twist of fate and Satan’s hounds were wholly responsible for my pool dunking.

Now I had to deal with the fact Matt’s ex was here. Why was she here? Why on earth would she be invited when his parents knew he was bringing me to dinner? It couldn’t be deliberate…could it? No, no, I wouldn’t think that way. Matt had mentioned their families were close. Just having close friends over for grub, friends whose daughter used to screw your son.

It had to be deliberate.

“Stop frowning, poppet,” Matt hissed between clenched teeth as he led me along a hallway with paintings lining the walls. I jerked to a stop in front of one. Matt tugged me forward. Impatiently.

“Is that a—”

“Matisse, yes,” Matt supplied quickly as I dragged my feet. “It’s a copy. The real painting is in one of my father’s vaults somewhere with all the others. Hurry up, poppet. I don’t want us to be the last ones seated.”

I hurried. When we entered another humongous room, I had to pause to take in the grandeur. I knew Matt’s family was loaded, but damn. Crystal chandeliers that wouldn’t look out of place in an exclusive hotel hung from the high ceiling. Ten formally dressed staff waited at designated points around a huge dining table, which glistened and gleamed from the dinnerware. The floor in this room was marble, like the foyer. There were columns, marble columns that matched the floor. And the softest hint of background music—classical, of course.

“Bollocks,” Matt muttered under his breath, eyeing the table with trepidation.

“What?” I muttered back, smoothing a hand over my curls before tugging my t-shirt nervously.

“Place cards, poppet.” Matt glared at the table as the other guests started taking their allocated seats. “Your name better be next to mine.”

I noticed little white cards placed neatly in front each seat on our approach to the fancy table. I echoed Matt’s annoyed words in my head.

“Madi,” Natty called, with a hand beckoning me over. “You’re seated with us.”

I looked to where she and her sister stood. It was at one end of the large table, the end where Grumps sat. Oh shit. I prayed Matt’s name was next to mine. Obviously God was busy dealing with another more important crisis the moment my prayer went through, because there was only one free chair next to the girls. Matt and I exchanged a look.

“It’ll be fine, poppet. I’ll swap with Trouble. I promised not to leave your side tonight.”

Look how well that turned out, I thought, remembering the pool water closing over my head as I stared a canine-induced death in the eye.

The other guests were almost seated when Matt and I walked over to Natty. I could feel Grumps’s beady gaze on me, watching me with eyes so similar to Matt’s.

“Trouble,” Matt murmured, tweaking Natty’s nose. “Let’s change seats.”

“Matt, darling. You’re next to me.” A sultry, feminine voice called from the other side of the table. My head snapped around. Aphrodite. Matt was going to be seated next to Aphrodite. Her presence here had been deliberate, I decided in irritation. Matt sitting next to his hot ex was not happening.

Matt flashed her a quick smile as he replied, “Louisa, you can’t possibly want to be subjected to me boring you all through dinner.”

“You could never bore me, darling,” she shot back, with a seductive fluttering of eyelids. Was she insane? Did she not sense danger? Did Aphrodite not fear a duel of epic proportions where only one of us would emerge bloodied and victorious?

Wow. Jealousy was a bitch. Never had I experienced such an obliteration of logical thought. All I wanted was to sock her in the face and wipe that smirk off her mouth. This was nothing in comparison to watching Dante with his girlfriends. This was the seething green of jealousy, mingled with the vivid red of anger clouding my vision. Matt better swap seats if he knew what was good for him, and what the hell was up with her calling him ‘darling’ in her posh voice? This was not happening.

“Matthew,” Grumps barked from his end of the table. “Sit down. I’m hungry and you’re making everyone wait.”

Matt sent me a resigned look, then made his way over to the other side of the table. I silently took my seat next to Natty, in shock over Matt’s immediate compliance to his grandfather’s command. My Matt, who always did what he wanted, was sheepishly sitting down next to his ex. It reminded me of the twins’ behaviour earlier. It seemed Grumps was the big dog in the Bradley clan, and I was seated way too close for comfort to him. There was one couple on my right between Grumps and me. I was beginning to think one couple wouldn’t be enough. I looked up and down the table. Matt’s dad, William, Jr, was at the other end. His wife, Portia, sat smiling confidently next to him. Matt’s siblings were down the other end, too. I was interspersed between the guests I hadn’t yet had a formal introduction to.

“Smile,” Matt mouthed to me from across the table. At least he sat almost opposite me. I could send him secret messages with my eyes, if need be. My attention lowered to the table between us. I was raised in a household where we always tried to eat together. Aunt Cleo was an ace in the kitchen, and she liked watching us wolf down her culinary delights with gasps of ecstasy as each morsel brought us closer to the Promised Land. She implemented draconian measures when it came to table manners and the proper use of cutlery, but she had never prepared me for this much silverware. How many courses were they planning on serving? Why hadn’t I thought to look this shit up on Google the moment Matt had said we were having dinner with his family? I should’ve known better.

Staring anxiously at the silverware, I barely noticed the man hovering over my and Natty’s shoulders. When he reached down to place a gold-edged napkin on my lap, I jerked in surprise, then looked around the table. Matt’s parents were in deep conversation with the people seated close to them, and I remembered Matt’s warning about them being stand-offish. They hadn’t spoken to me since our introduction. How on earth was I supposed to wow them sitting way over here?

I noticed Natty, head bent and fingers flying over her cell, which she was hiding in her lap. The drama was still going on it seemed. I smiled politely at the woman on my right. She looked about fifty and her makeup was so well done you could barely tell she wore any. She returned my smile, then turned away before I could introduce myself. I caught Grumps’s gaze on me and suddenly found the intricate lacing of the heavy tablecloth interesting. Matt was chuckling at something Aphrodite had said. He was chuckling with his ex, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. Whatever it was I was currently feeling got pushed aside as the staff started bringing out the starters. When my plate was placed in front of me, I sent my first panicked eye message to Matt. He got it. Matt stared down at his plate, then sent me an apologetic look.

Steak tartare, garnished with—were those quail eggs expertly placed with designer flair?—and a delicate sprinkling of salad. I threw up a bit in the back of my throat. Everyone started tucking in like they weren’t shovelling raw meat in their mouths. We had come a long way since man’s first awareness of fire and what it could do. Why were there still dishes where raw meat starred as the main attraction? Another sickly, wet gag occurred in my poor throat when I spotted Natty’s knife splitting the little egg open which caused the runny yolk to slither over the meat. I loved meat, cooked meat, not meat with the remnants of a pulse.

Matt’s gaze was sympathetic as he popped a forkful in his mouth. If he thought I was going to kiss him after this, he was mad. Then, again, he mightn’t want to kiss me if he knew about the small vomit eruptions that had taken place in my oesophagus.

I sent another fervent prayer upwards, hoping God was done dealing with the more important problems and could lend a helping hand. I’d take anything; an earthquake, the return of mammoths, the Second Coming. I couldn’t stomach the thought of putting that meaty red mess in my mouth. Grumps was staring at me again. Oh crap.

I gingerly picked up a knife and fork. Revolting.

Stuck the cutlery into the starter. Nauseating.

Raised the steak tartare clinging to the fork. Vile.

Please, God, do something. The fork’s journey towards my mouth had begun. There was no backing out. Matt was watching me intently as he chewed. Once, on the few occasions he cooked dinner for me, he had done steak with vegetables. The steak had been dark pink when I cut into it, the juices leaking out from the meat too red for my liking. I had gotten up from the table, grabbed a frying pan, and cremated the meat within an inch of edibility. Matt had been offended. I told him the only meat I intended to eat in such a raw state was his dick, and he stopped berating me after that comment.

But, back to the problem at hand. The raw meat on my fork.

“Ms DuMont,” Grumps said, after swallowing his mouthful. I paused, mouth clamping shut and fork being lowered quickly, as I smiled politely and waited for Matt’s grandfather to continue.

Thank you, God.

“Adam mentioned you were a dancer.”

I nodded. “A ballet dancer and, please, call me Madi.”

“That’s so cool,” Nikki piped up.

Grumps sent her a little frown and she resumed eating quietly.

“You own a dance company?” he asked. The couple next to me were looking on in interest. Matt was giving me encouraging stares as he ate. I made a mental note to remind him to brush his teeth before he snogged me later.

“Yes, I do,” I replied, while pushing the food around on my plate. “Well, seventy percent that is. The co-owner is a childhood friend of mine. We both trained at the School of American Ballet—”

“Why did you decide to move to England?” Grumps queried abruptly. He put his cutlery down and leaned back in his chair.

“It was a spur of the moment sort of thing,” I said half-jokingly, hoping he would smile at me.

Grumps arched an eyebrow. “One should never make rash decisions when it comes to business. A practical, well-thought out strategy is needed in order to succeed.”

I risked a glance at Matt, who was frowning slightly at his grandfather. Then his body stiffened. The movement was so subtle I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been watching him. One of Matt’s hand slipped under the table, unnoticed by the others, and he scowled at Aphrodite’s side profile. Louisa was nodding her head in agreement with Grumps, and Matt’s hand returned to the table.

“A dance company is quite different from a normal business, Mr Bradley,” I explained.

Grumps let out a bark of mocking laughter. “Of course it is. Ballet companies routinely make a loss at the box office and are perpetually dependant on outside financial support of some manner. Are you aware of the Royal Ballet?”

“Yes, of course I am,” I replied, a touch sharper than I’d intended, but damn. I didn’t know if Grumps was on the attack or whether he was interested in my career. If he was only interested, why did I feel defensive?

“And the Royal Opera House?” he questioned, piercing gaze trained on my face.

I put my knife and fork down. “Yes, I am.”

“You know that both are in direct competition for annual grants by the Arts Council?”

“Because they use the same building, they not only compete for funds but also for space in the Opera House. Yes, I know this, Mr Bradley.”

“Do you know what the current funding allocation is, Ms DuMont?”

I gritted my teeth, but managed to smile at the man. “I don’t have the exact figures.” My eyes narrowed at the soft snort coming from Grumps. “But, if I were to hazard a guess, around twenty million pounds.”

The rest of the table had fallen silent and was avidly listening to our conversation. Damn it, we’d only had starters so far.

“Did you also know that, even with that shared funding, the Royal Ballet only manages to cover a mere thirty-five percent of its costs. The remainder of its income must be sourced elsewhere.”

I nodded curtly. The skin on my face felt hot. “Most, if not all, dance companies raise income by fundraising, sponsorship and ticket sales. The larger ballet companies can, of course, generate funds from sales of souvenirs and whatnot.”

Grumps was nodding slowly. I didn’t like the expression on his lined features. It reminded me of that interview Matt had on TV when he pulverized that reporter. I hoped there would be no pulverization taking place tonight.

“If the Royal Ballet, a world renowned ballet company, finds it difficult at most times to ensure sufficient funding to cover its costs,”—here he exhaled noisily—“I dread to think what your little dance company has to do to get money.”

“Grumps,” Matt said with reproach. Respectful reproach, that is. Dare I say, nervous reproach? His gaze jumped between his grandfather and me. “That’s enough now. Madi—”

“Is perfectly capable of answering for herself.” I cut Matt off, sending him a tender smile of gratitude. I turned back to Grumps. “We do what any dance company does, Mr Bradley. We apply for funding through the Arts Council and we work like hell to raise enough sponsorship to cover our running costs. I am fully aware how precarious this business is. Many smaller dance companies, much like my own, have found the struggle to survive insurmountable and, unfortunately, their doors have closed.” I glared at Grumps, in the nicest way possible. “My dance company is open, and it will remain so for as long as humanly possible. I employ gifted dancers who believe in what we do. Our productions may not be on the grand scale of the Royal Ballet, or any of the other larger and well-known ballet companies, but our work is polished, technically exquisite and downright beautiful.” The rest of the table was quiet. Hell, I might as well finish what Grumps started. “Maybe you should come see one of our shows. We’re working on our own interpretation of Snow White. It’s called The Ice Queen and Princess.”

Grumps stared at me in disbelief, mouth parting for a second, before he cleared his throat. “I rarely attend public functions anymore and, if I were to feel the urge to see ballet, I can assure you, the Royal Ballet would be my first choice.”

I shrugged and looked across the table at Matt, who was observing me with something close to astonishment on his face, before addressing Grumps’s last comment. “You don’t know what you’re missing. At your age, you should get out more. It helps keep senility at bay.”

Matt gave me wide grey eyes. Seriously, I thought they were going to pop out of their sockets.

I plastered a sweet smile on my face and blinked innocently at Grumps. So it was a little bit impolite, but the man had held my hand hostage earlier, made a cryptic comment before dismissing me, and he’d basically finished saying my dance company was shit. My family and my work: no one bad-mouthed those two things.

“Grumps,” Nikki called in the following silence. “Mum was hoping you’d come to my piano recital next week. Granddad and Nana have already agreed to come. Shall we reserve a ticket for you?”

Grumps tore his gaze away from me to peer at his great-granddaughter. “We’ll see, Nicole. You’ve been doing well with your lessons, haven’t you?”

She nodded and exchanged a look with her sister. The conversation around the table started up after that. I breathed a sigh of relief as our plates were taken away in preparation for the second course.

“Are you mental?” Natty whispered, fingers tapping furiously on her cell. “No one talks to Grumps that way.”

I shrugged, wondering what the hell was going on across the table. Matt’s hand had dived under the table at least two more times, and he kept trying to hide his scowls at Louisa as he conversed with the man on his right.

I observed his ex with suspicion, already figuring out what was going on, and feeling the urge to do something violent to the beautiful woman across the table.