Chapter Four
DIDO KEPT HER head up and her spine straight as she closed the glossy black door and descended the steps to the street. In this part of London even the traffic sounds were hushed.
Despite the sunlight, she drew her tailored jacket closer around her body, though it didn’t counteract the ice frosting her vital organs. But she wouldn’t allow herself to panic. Not here, not now.
No matter how desperate she felt.
On either side of her the row of elegant Georgian houses extended in a gentle curve. Across the street a beautiful private park drew the eye from behind its wrought iron fence. Outsiders weren’t welcome there.
Just as she was no longer welcome at Weddings by Gilette.
Her mouth dried and her stomach roiled.
It had been a last-ditch attempt, coming here to see Graydon in person. She’d known it probably wouldn’t save her job, but she’d clung to the possibility.
To be fair, Graydon didn’t have much choice.
Chiara was well-connected and very angry.
While there was no doubt she’d keep the details of exactly what had happened in Tahiti private rather than look foolish, if she learned Dido was still employed by the firm, Graydon would lose valuable custom.
He’d worked too hard to let anything or anyone mar his success.
There was no question of a reference either because, as he’d explained, he couldn’t be associated with her in any way.
Basically she was poison. Chiara and Panos would see she never worked in the industry again.
No job. No reference.
And she doubted she could return to her previous events planning job.
When she’d left six months ago they’d done everything they could to persuade her to stay, except pay her a salary commensurate with her performance.
They weren’t at all pleased when she’d left them behind for a better opportunity.
Aunt Flavia said it was a sign of her competence. She worked hard and produced excellent results, so of course they hadn’t wanted to lose her.
Which was all very well, but it wouldn’t pay the bills now. The job market was tight and while the uber-wealthy were happy to splash their cash on wonderful celebrations, including lavish weddings in dream locations, most people were watching their pennies.
It wasn’t a good time to be looking for work in a field where businesses, like their customers, were tightening their belts.
She suppressed a sigh and headed towards the bus stop.
Graydon had been grim about her chance of finding work with anyone he knew, yet he’d kept her talking, trying to wheedle out more details of her scandalous situation.
He’d been avid with curiosity that she’d married or claimed to have married Panos Diamandis, sole inheritor of the enormous Diamandis fortune.
He’d barely concealed his eagerness for all the juicy details and Dido had had to walk a fine line between keeping him onside in hopes he’d find some sort of work for her, and her innate need for privacy.
The one positive was that Graydon would never repeat the little bit of information she’d provided. Absolute confidentiality was a prerequisite when working with the mega-wealthy and he’d never spread what he knew, just hoard the delicious details to himself.
Which made Dido feel like some cheap entertainment. As well as being unemployed with no immediate job prospects.
She thought of the expenses she’d been going to pay and the cash she’d been going to put in the bank when she’d finished Chiara’s wedding.
Instead of being a triumphant success it was an utter wreck. Like her career.
Picking up her pace, she followed the curve of classical mansions down the street.
She was almost at the end of the row when her footsteps faltered and a prickling at her nape penetrated her thoughts.
The sort of sensation that boded trouble to a woman walking in the dark alone.
But it was broad daylight and there were at least a few other people about, though now she looked, at this time of day most of the grand houses looked deserted.
Yet she’d felt it earlier, she remembered now. That preternatural awareness of eyes on her as she walked up the street for her meeting with Graydon.
Pausing as if to check her phone, she surreptitiously glanced back the way she’d come. There was nothing out of the ordinary.
A woman in jeans and a dark jacket was heading her way on the opposite side of the road, but she was scrolling on her phone too.
Further back, Dido noticed a figure sitting in a dark car parked not far from Graydon’s building.
But there was nothing suspicious about that.
The person was probably waiting for a companion to exit one of the buildings.
Shaking off the unnerving feeling of being watched, Dido turned and picked up her pace. The buses weren’t as frequent in the middle of the day but hopefully she wouldn’t have long to wait.
Well over an hour later, Dido trudged up the street to her place.
She’d been too nervous this morning to have more than a piece of toast and half a cup of tea.
Now she was hungry, tired and fighting to stay positive.
She would find a job. Just probably not the sort of job she’d trained for and not at the same level.
The fact she couldn’t give a reference for her last six months’ work would alarm any prospective employer.
Stop it now! If you don’t believe in yourself, why should anyone else?
Her father’s words echoed in her ears. He’d built himself up from almost nothing and become a highly successful businessman. If he’d let setbacks daunt him he’d never have achieved what he had.
You’ll feel better with some food inside you.
It was well past lunch and she’d resisted the lure of a café, knowing she had to save her pennies. She’d just got her head above water financially these last few months but that would change if she didn’t find work quickly.
Dido lengthened her stride, wishing she were in flat shoes rather than heels. But she’d dressed for success, hoping against hope that Graydon might recommend her elsewhere, even if he had to let her go.
She was almost home, had the key already in her hand, when her narrow heel caught in broken paving in front of the house next door, jerking her to a halt.
Momentarily off balance, she looked for something to grab but there was nothing. A couple of swaying moments and she was fine, bending down to take off her shoe then coax it carefully from the hole. She couldn’t afford new shoes now.
She was putting it back on when she heard the thud of a car door and approaching footsteps. Quickly straightened.
Instantly she felt off balance again, dizzy.
Because there before her was Panos Diamandis.
He stood with his feet planted wide as if expecting trouble, or casually claiming the spot. The jacket of his bespoke dark suit was open across his wide chest as his hands found his trouser pockets.
Dido’s pulse was an arrhythmic jitter that can’t have been good for her heart. She felt herself sway, ankles wobbling in the moment it took to marshal her defences.
She’d only seen him wear a suit a couple of times. She hated that he still wore it better than any other man. But then he looked good in anything. Or nothing.
Unfairly, he had the features of a sculpted Greek hero or god. Beautiful symmetry, strong lines and bold jaw. A straight nose, far-seeing long-lashed eyes and a mouth that could break into the most beguiling smile. Right now he looked brooding rather than inviting.
‘What are you doing here?’
She didn’t want to know the answer because there could be only one. He was here to see her.
That meant bad news for her.
Greek billionaires didn’t hang around the outer suburbs of London. This wasn’t a slum—she was grateful to live in a reasonably pleasant suburb—but it was a far cry from the ultra-exclusive Tahitian resort.
Or his pristine, luxury penthouse in Athens.
She shivered, remembering the all-white decor, splendid art and so many precious items, all perfectly positioned, that made it feel like an up-market gallery rather than somewhere to live.
She’d tiptoed around the place, petrified she’d break something or smudge dirt somewhere.
‘Hello to you too, Dido.’
That deep, curt voice dragged her back from the past. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. ‘I’m not in the mood to play nice with you.’
He’d destroyed her career with his claim she was a liar, and that was after his earlier appalling behaviour. He was the last person she wanted to see.
‘Nevertheless, I’m here and you need to get used to it.’
Her eyes rounded, her stomach going into free fall. Tahiti had been bad enough. She’d never wanted to lay eyes on him again. Fervently she hoped he meant she had to get used to him for the next few minutes and no more.
‘Why? You’re moving into the neighbourhood?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you going to ask inane questions or invite me in?’ He turned his gaze to the terraced house where she rented the basement flat.
Her chin rose. ‘What makes you think I live nearby?’
He shrugged. ‘What do you think? I had someone check.’
He could afford investigators to find her address. Even, she realised with realisation, to follow her. Was that what had happened today? That feeling she’d been watched?
Dido was about to confront him about that then stopped. What was the point? The vital thing was to get rid of him as soon as possible. She glanced at her watch then up the road, dismay twisting her insides. She needed to send him away quickly.
‘What do you want, Panos? If it’s to tell me to keep away, don’t worry, I will. There’s nothing I’d like better than never to see you again.’
If she’d hoped to puncture his brooding arrogance, she failed miserably.
‘At last,’ he purred in a deep rumble that rolled across her skin and made her insides quiver, ‘something we agree on.’ He let that sink in before adding, ‘We need to talk. It won’t take long, if you’re honest with me. Then I’ll be gone, out of your life for ever.’