Page 150 of Guilty Pleasures

‘Well, whatever you do, I hope it’s fun,’ said Rob, giving Emma his playboy smile. Suddenly it had lost all its charm.

‘And if you want to have some fun together, just give me a call and I’ll…’

‘Rob, don’t,’ she snapped, cutting him off.

‘Don’t what?’ he frowned.

‘Don’t flirt with me.’

‘Why not?’

‘You truly are an insensitive bastard, you know that,’ she replied shaking her head.

‘What?’

‘You heard,’ she said, already walking away from him.

He pulled her arm.

‘Look, Emma, there’s something you should know.’

At that moment Virginia appeared behind Emma.

‘Darling, I need to talk to you,’ she said, putting an arm around her shoulders. For once, Emma welcomed her mother’s interruption. Whatever Rob wanted to tell her, Emma felt sure it wasn’t going to be good news.

‘Oh, hello, Rob,’ said Virginia with little warmth. ‘I’m just trying to persuade Emma to come to Gstaad with us. Roger positively insists she come along and I think it will be so good for the family.’

‘I agree with you,’ nodded Rob.

Emma glared at him, not welcoming the interruption. Her life was none of his business.

‘I’ll see you in the New Year, Rob,’ said Emma finally.

‘I’d better get back to my friend,’ replied Rob stiffly and turned away.

‘I do think it’s wonderfully generous of Roger to invite you to the chalet,’ said Virginia, guiding Emma to the bar. ‘Particularly as you started the year by firing him.’ Emma looked at her mother. She looked great, perhaps twenty years younger than her sixty years in a long-sleeved grey silk cocktail dress worn with a simple string of pearls.

‘Cassandra’s going too,’ continued Virginia. ‘Julia tells me there’s been some bad blood there as well so I think you can resolve a lot of differences if you can be bothered to make it.’

Emma was suddenly in no mood for her mother’s sly digs.

‘Oh, Mother, stop it!’ she snapped. ‘Can’t you give your own daughter the benefit of the doubt for once? You make it sound as if I’m the one that’s been in the wrong all year.’ Emma didn’t want to tell her mother about Cassandra’s scheming; after all, business was good and if Cassandra had been trying to further sabotage the company, she hadn’t been successful. Emma hoped her cousin had got the message that she was only hurting Julia’s shareholding; perhaps she had just got bored and had turned her destructive urges elsewhere. Before Virginia could respond, they were interrupted.

‘Great speech, Em. I think you’ve won a few more hearts and minds tonight.’

She looked up to see Ruan, looking disturbingly handsome in a midnight blue tux. His dark hair curled on his collar and buoyed by good food and drink, he seemed a little less intense.

‘You two should go and dance,’ said Virginia, motioning towards the packed dance floor. ‘The shop floor just don’t know how it’s done.’

They all looked towards Albert, the factory janitor, who was twirling his arms around like a helicopter, his large dickie bow flopping round his neck like a dead bird. Emma rolled her eyes at her mother’s snobbery. Albert wasn’t quite Fred Astaire, but he was having a good time and desperately trying to catch the eye of Abby Ferguson, Milford’s marketing executive. Just then, the music changed pace as the singer began to croon Sinatra’s ‘I’ve got you under my skin,’ to a slow, swinging beat.

‘Come on then, lady-boss, show us your fancy footwork,’ smiled Ruan pulling Emma towards him and turning her in time to the music. She squealed as he dipped her to the floor and felt herself blush as Ruan expertly whirled her around the floor, suddenly enjoying both the levity and the attention.

‘Why, Mr McCormack, I had no idea you were so accomplished,’ grinned Emma.

‘Just one of my many talents,’ murmured Ruan into her ear as he turned her smoothly.

‘Oh? And what are the others, pray tell?’