Chapter 35
The doorbell sounded. Despite it being Nic’s business on the line tonight, Aria was a bag of nerves.
How would she be able to carry off a fake romance with a man she hardly knew and who kept unbalancing her like this?
Sophie’s mother was no pushover, and it would require some ingenuity to pull the wool over her eyes.
Aria was still shaken from seeing him semi-naked and, while that private moment in her bed might have dampened the fire temporarily, his handsome face and confident manner were kindling to her desires.
And what was he doing in her room just then?
Thank God he hadn’t walked in any earlier.
She checked her appearance in the mirror again, adding two coats of mascara, a dash of eyeshadow and some lip gloss.
Then, hearing the doorbell, she adjusted her top, ran her finger over her teeth to check there was nothing stuck in them, and headed into the living room.
Donna was already seated at the dinner table, salivating at the cold meat nibbles Aria had prepared earlier and stabbing at olives with a toothpick.
She was a small woman with big hair groomed into immovable waves around ears which bore the weight of clip-on chandeliers.
Aria could see the resemblance to her daughter in her face and the way she held herself.
‘So, how did you two lovebirds meet?’ she asked, as they took their seats.
Nic offered her the platter, and she picked up a prosciutto tulip Aria had carefully crafted.
Nic pushed one into his mouth and masticated with gusto.
Aria accepted a glass of red, downing it nervously while briefing herself not to overthink her answers.
The wine was tart, but she wouldn’t know the difference between the finest wine in the land and a bargain-basement bottle.
Nic left his own glass untouched and sipped on iced water while passing her the chilli jam.
Having spent so much time with him recently, Aria could see he was nervous by the small tells he exhibited, like the way he kept clearing his throat before beginning a sentence.
Mind you, who could blame him? Donna consumed salami daffodils and pried into their business with an equal amount of relish.
Nic easily fielded the first question ‘We had a few dates in London after connecting online, but it was nothing serious and both of us had other priorities at the time. We met again recently when Aria showed me this house. She works at the estate agents on the high street.’
‘Well, I’m freelance really,’ Aria interjected.
‘But I thought you built the house?’ Donna said.
Nic threw her a crooked smile. ‘I pretended to be a buyer to check she was marketing it correctly.’
‘Thorough.’ Donna was impressed. ‘And was she?’ She turned a beady eye on Aria as Nic laughed.
‘If you call making the garage door act like the shark from Jaws while encouraging my electric toothbrush to do tumbling tricks on the bathroom floor, then yes, it was marketed with a certain kind of aplomb.’
Aria scowled at the control panel on the wall. ‘That box is high-tech black magic.’
‘It is a house that needs a careful hand. But then doors do seem to be a challenge for Aria,’ he teased her.
‘I mean, the bathroom door had a mind of its own tonight.’ Mortified he was going there, she took another slug of wine, not sure how to respond when he nudged her foot with his shoe under the table.
Was he going to regale her friend’s mother with the whole towel tale?
If so, she would kick him on the shin. She ran through the incident again in her mind, but all she could see was his sexy backside in that apron.
‘Have you been together long?’ Donna asked.
‘A few weeks?’ Aria guessed.
‘Some months, if you count the online stuff,’ Nic blurted at the same time.
‘Amazing how quickly an engagement can fly by!’ Donna chirruped.
Aria realised she had no ring on her finger and wondered if she’d noticed. ‘It helps that Tiger likes Nic. In fact, I think he prefers him to me sometimes,’ she said, looking around for her dog to slip him some meat.
‘Ach, he tolerates me,’ Nic said, as Tiger heard his name and came searching for the doggie buffet.
‘Why do you call him Tiger?’ Donna enquired.
‘He belonged to my dad. I imagine he was named ironically. He’s too sedentary to hunt and doesn’t exactly roar.’ Aria held out a little of the meat, which Tiger sniffed at.
Donna flashed big, uneven teeth and tucked into a slice of pastrami like a Neapolitan Mastiff.
‘I was sorry to hear about your father, Aria. We still miss him on the town council.’ She then spiked the last of the cheese with a cocktail stick and shoved it into her mouth.
‘I’m sure having Nic in your life brings you a great sense of happiness and comfort.
Tell me, will you live here after you are married? When’s the big day?’
After the big planning meeting, Aria thought. Possibly a million years after it.
Aria picked up the dishes and moved to the island to bring the main course together.
She took the plates out of the oven where they’d been warming as they moved on to discuss Nic’s long-term plans for his Lakeland development.
He threw her an appreciative glance as she chipped in, before announcing there was an exciting part he hadn’t even told her about yet.
‘I’m proposing a zone for swimming only, accessed through the marina.
And I’m thinking of banning jet skiing.’
Aria artfully arranged vegetables on each plate along with the beef and mashed celeriac, nodding her approval.
‘You won’t believe how badly people behave when they have one of those machines between their thighs,’ she said.
‘I was having a swim a few weeks ago and some bellend jumped on one and started weaving around the lake like a maniac.’
‘We all behave a little wildly with the right machine between our thighs,’ said Donna, winking.
As the full horror of that suggestion dawned on her, Aria blushed. She walked to the table with two of the plates and placed one in front of Donna while continuing with her complaint. ‘The guy almost killed himself and I swear, if I’d been further out, there would have been blood in the water.’
As Donna picked up her cutlery and slathered at the food, Nic knocked over his wine glass. Aria frowned. Ruining a perfect dinner table was her party trick, not his.
‘The plate was too hot,’ he said, sounding angry as he jumped up to grab a cloth.
Aria collected her food from the island and checked the temperature of her own plate.
Far from scalding. As Nic fussed around soaking up the liquid, Donna speared the tender meat and knocked back another glass of wine.
‘Ooh, I love good vino. This whole dinner is chef’s kiss!
’ As she brought her fingers to her mouth, Aria realised something about the night she’d moved into the hut.
The man on the jet ski had come from the boardwalk not far from Nic’s house.
He’d been tall and well-built with dark hair.
Come to think of it, he’d looked like Nic. A whole lot like him, actually.