Page 11 of Home Grown Talent
Okay, fine, he remembered that much about Owen. But still his expression hadn’t exactly been friendly…
Just then, Mason and Jay took their seats, preventing Owen from chewing over the matter any longer.
For the next few minutes, everyone was busy putting their napkins on their knees, selecting bread rolls from the basket one of the waiting staff brought round, and deciding whether to have red or white wine. But eventually, all of that was done, and they settled in to chat to their neighbours. Since Tag was laughing with Aaron about something, and Jay was listening politely to the blonde woman, Owen turned to Mason.
He offered a wary smile. “You’re looking well, Mason.”
“Uh—thanks,” Mason said, eyebrows lifting in surprise. After a moment, he added, “So are you.”
It didn’t sound sincere exactly, and Owen chuckled.
“Tuxes aren’t really my style,” he said ruefully. “But I suppose they’re mandatory at this sort of shindig.”
“I’m not wearing a tux,” Mason pointed out.
“True,” Owen agreed, “but your outfit probably cost more than all our tuxes put together.”
Mason glanced round the table. “Not Jay’s,” he said at last, “but yes, that’s probably true for the rest of you.” He smiled slightly, a wry, attractive expression, and Owen felt a tiny surge of excitement in his belly, just at having those clear green eyes meeting his own.
He opened his mouth to tease Mason back, but before he could get a word out, Jay’s neighbour, the blonde woman in the slinky gold dress, leaned over the table and said to him, “I don’t think we’ve met? I’m Misty Watson-King.”
“Nice to meet you,” Owen replied. “Owen Hunter. Lewis’s brother.”
Misty looked like she was going to respond, but right then, Lewis stood up and addressed the whole table. “Hey everyone, can I interrupt for a second?” Everyone quietened, turning their attention to him.
“I just want to introduce my brother, Owen.” He pointed at Owen and grinned. Then he indicated Tag and added, “And for those of you who haven’t met him, this is Tag O’Rourke—he’s one of the cast in Aaron and Toni’s new project, Bow Street. You know, the one Toni’s been banging on about at all our monthly meetings?” A couple of people laughed, and Toni stuck her tongue out at him. Lewis grinned at her before turning his attention back to Owen. “Owen, you already know Toni, my boss. And this is Poor—er, Geoff Hall. He’s…?” His eyebrows rose in what was clearly a silent question for Toni.
Smoothly, she said, “Geoff’s considering investing in RPP, so I thought it would be a great idea for him to see some of our amazing people being recognised by the industry tonight.”
For a moment, Lewis looked like he was about to say something more—probably something tactless by the look in his eye—but apparently, he thought better of it. And that had to be Aaron’s influence, no doubt about it. Lewis pointed at the smug couple next. “Henry and Dinah Armitage—Henry’s head of Factual Programming at RPP.” Dinah gave a tiny wave with just the tips of her fingers, while Henry lifted his champagne glass by way of greeting. Owen nodded back.
“And this is Misty Watson-King and Naomi Lee,” Lewis said, gesturing at the blonde woman and her black-velvet-and-pearls companion. “Misty’s a producer in Henry’s department. Weekend Wellness is hers. It’s up for an award tonight. And Naomi is—”
“Best daytime programme,” Misty interrupted chirpily, cutting Lewis off. “Our team is like a family so we’re all pretty excited, aren’t we, Naomi?”
Naomi looked startled to be asked a question. “Oh, um, yes. Super-excited.” She smiled nervously, eyeing Misty.
“Okay,” Lewis said, clapping his hands together, “introductions done. Now we can all get pissed.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Owen
For some reason, Misty seemed to find Owen fascinating. She kept staring at him, so much so that he shifted in his seat, uncomfortably conscious of her gaze skewering him across the table. She’d been studying him for a while now, eyeing him in a way that made him feel like he was something she was considering buying. He didn’t think it was sexual interest, but it was some sort of interest. Something acquisitive that made his skin crawl, just a little.
She was quite attractive in her way, though not his type. Early-to-mid-forties, he guessed, and sort of long all over. Long blonde hair, obscuring one eye, a long, elegant nose, and a long, slim body that looked toned and well-maintained. She reminded him of a well-groomed Afghan hound.
“So, Owen,” she said. “What is it that you do?”
“Oh, I’m just a gardener,” he replied with an easy smile.
“Bollocks,” Lewis interjected from the other side of the table. He was spreading his bread roll with a thick layer of butter. “Don’t listen to him. He’s not just a gardener; he’s a successful businessman. He has a thriving garden design and landscaping business with a waiting list as long as your arm.”
Owen forced a smile, but that little comment—He’s not just a gardener; he’s a successful businessman—got to him. Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder whether Lewis thought that being a mere gardener wasn’t good enough. He always seemed to want Owen to be doing more. He’d offered to invest in the business several times so Owen could expand and bring in more work. More money. He never seemed to get that Owen didn’t want that, no matter how many times Owen told him.
“Gardening?” Misty said. She tilted her head, examining him even more closely. “Yes, I can see that. With those shoulders…”
Christ, she was making him feel like a side of beef.