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Story: A Secret Escape

Marcus and I both laugh. Raj is full of energy and impossible not to like.
“This is my girlfriend, Lila,” Marcus says, the smile on his face beaming.
Raj’s expression turns to one of amused shock. “No! Girlfriend? But she’s so young!”
I laugh, blushing as Marcus wraps an arm around me.
“Yea, who knows what she sees in me,” Marcus says. “But I’m a very lucky man.”
“Very bloody lucky,” Raj says, pointing a dramatic finger at him. “You hold on to this one,” he continues. “She’s a keeper - I can tell.”
“Absolutely Raj,” Marcus says. “You’re right about that.”
He takes another swig of his drink and looks around.
“Hey buddy, it’s been great to see you, but I’ve got to make the rounds before the service starts. Have you got your eye on anything for the silent auction?”
“Oh yes,” Raj says, his eyes lighting up. “I’ll be going for the jet ski lessons! You know, I’ve never done that!”
Marcus laughs, giving Raj a pat on the back. “That’s great. You keep well Raj, I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” he says and leads us back towards the bar.
“He was… lively,” I say with a chuckle as we get out of earshot of the group.
Marcus laughs. “That’s one word for it.”
We set our empty glasses on the bar and pick up a second round.
For the next half hour, we circle the room, repeating mostly the same conversations over and over again. Marcus introduces me to several groups of people, encourages participation in the silent auction and chats about projects he’s been working on. I don’t say much, mostly just watching him with rapt fascination. He’s magnetic. His body language tailors individually to every conversation, even his accent slightly changing depending on who he’s talking to.
I spot Angela and Carter at a nearby table, chatting and sipping their drinks and I make a mental note to catch up with them later. I’d warned them I might not have much time tonight, and they’d teased me about pretending to suddenly be above them, but Angela has been nothing but supportive - constantly commenting on how happy I’ve been lately. And she’s right. I am.
Eventually, the room falls to a hush as Catalyst’s CEO, Howard, walks onto the stage. I’ve only seen him in person once or twice. He’s a stocky man with grey hair and a charming smile, and he’s wearing a dazzling dinner jacket that sparkles in the light.
He taps the mic a few times, welcomes everyone, thanking them for coming, encourages bids on the silent auction, then announces that dinner is about to begin.
Marcus gives my arm a gentle squeeze – his subtle cue that it’s time to wrap up our current conversation.
“It’s been lovely catching up, Dawn,” he says to the woman in front of us. “But we must find our seats now. Enjoy your evening.”
The woman smiles and shakes his free hand. “Thank you. And it’s been lovely to meet you, Lila,” she says, shaking my hand with a warm smile.
“You too,” I reply as Marcus leads us away.
“You’re really good at this,” I say, turning to look at Marcus as we find our name cards on the centre table.
I’d been quietly observing him all evening – the way he uses people’s names so naturally, he makes everyone feel seen. He has this quiet command over conversations, knowing exactly when to lean in, when to close. Men and women alike are drawn to him, hanging on every word like it’s gold. And I can’t blame them.
“Years of practice,” he says, flashing that million-pound smile.
We sit down just as servers begin pouring wine. I can’t help but wonder if they’ve figured out the perfect ratio of alcohol to generosity that gets people to spend big money on an auction when they’ve already spent over £1,000 per plate just to be here.
The food arrives moments later and it’s exquisite. We had pre-ordered our menu choices ahead of time and I had opted for a selection of things I wouldn’t normally eat otherwise – a starter of seared scallops with pea puree decorated beautifully with edible flowers, followed by a rack of lamb with crushed potatoes and sauteed greens for the main. A pianist plays softly in the background, adding an extra air of sophistication to the evening.
As the plates from the main course are cleared away, and servers walk around further topping up wine glasses, Howard walks back onto the stage.
He thanks everyone for coming again and thanks the venue and the kitchen for the amazing food and the pianist for the music. He then proceeds to hand out a string of awards, calling out a slew of names of various staff throughout the company, recognising them for their achievements throughout the year. Most names I barely recognise and figure they must be higher ups in other departments.
Just as I’m starting to wonder if Marcus is going to get recognition for his part in organising the event, Howard holds up one final envelope.