Page 53

On the evening before the third round of heats – Round of sixteen – Leo checks his phone to find an email from his mother formally inviting him to her black-tie ball, celebrating the launch of Bind Together For Our Oceans, her new fund that will support projects dedicated to restoring and conserving marine ecosystems.

Dear Leo,

Congratulations on your continued success in the Rip Curl Pro Bells Beach stop of the World Surf League Championship Tour.

Although my various work commitments here in Australia have prevented me from attending the early heats, I hope you can attend tomorrow night’s event at The Langham Melbourne. Invitation attached.

Please RSVP to the email address stated on the invitation by tomorrow morning at the very latest.

Your presence would be much appreciated – Leo, I would love to see you.

Mx

Sitting on the sofa next to me, my legs lounging across his lap, Leo is watching me as I read it through, studying my expression.

I do everything possible to give nothing away, reading the email out loud with a neutral expression and in as emotionless a tone as I can manage.

The room falls silent as I open the attachment, checking out the elegantly designed invitation.

It looks like it’s been sent from a member of royalty.

‘What do you think?’ he asks when I lower the phone.

‘What do you think?’

He drops his eyes, his hands tapping lightly on my knees. ‘It looks like a nice event. Very grand. I’d have to find a tux.’

‘You would.’

‘I did miss a call from her publicist this afternoon. She left a voicemail.’

‘What did she say?’

‘A lot of it was her gushing about how well I’d done in the first two heats, how my mum was really happy for me and disappointed that she’d been forced to miss them.

Then she went on to say that I would be receiving an invitation to this event and it was completely her fault that I hadn’t been sent one before – sounds like she thought Mum had asked me and Mum thought her publicist had asked me. ’

I nod, my eyes fixed on him. ‘Classic mix-up.’

‘She said Mum was excited that I would be coming.’ He lifts a hand to rake it through his hair, leaving it sticking up all over the place in an adorable way. ‘At least I know now why she didn’t show at the last few heats.’

‘True.’ I glance back down at the email. ‘It’s quite formal language.’

‘That’s just how my mum communicates,’ he explains. ‘But she did add at the end that she’d love to see me. That’s, like, big .’

My lips twitch into a weak smile. ‘Yeah? I can understand that. My dad always messages quite formally.’ I watch him as he heaves a sigh. ‘What are you thinking? What do you want to do?’

‘I don’t know. I should turn it down. I’ve got Round of sixteen tomorrow, so I’ll be tired from that, and I should stick to my early nights. I should be unwinding, getting my head in gear for the next round if I’m lucky enough to get through.’

I tilt my head. ‘A lot of “should”s being thrown around here, Leo. What do you want to do?’

He chuckles, turning to look at me, his head resting back on the cushion. ‘You’re so happy to throw that back at me, aren’t you?’

‘Ecstatic.’

‘I think I want to go,’ he says, his forehead creasing as though he’s confused by his own decision. ‘It’s been a long time since Mum and I were in the same room. Things have changed and this event is clearly a big deal for her. I want to be there.’

‘We’d better find you a tux, then,’ I say, passing his phone back to him.

‘We’ll get you a dress at the same time,’ he says, grinning when I blink at him, puzzled. ‘If I’m going to this thing, you’re coming with me.’

I pause, my stomach rolling with nerves. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’

‘I’m sure,’ he says firmly, before shooting me a mischievous smile. ‘It’s about time you met your boss.’

*

I’m a sucker for Leo’s laidback beach style, but my God, he looks hot in a tux.

I was so nervous, I was kind of dreading the ball – we were wandering into unchartered territory here, considering we were still meant to be under the pretence of my following him to Bells Beach in the name of the Studio article – but then I see him in his tux and I almost melt right there on the spot.

Maybe this will be a fun night after all.

I meet him at the hotel just in time for the event.

Preparing for the ball this afternoon has been wildly chaotic and very expensive – as soon as Leo finished his heat this morning, blowing the competition out the water, I waited to congratulate him on winning but then didn’t hang around.

I left him with Adriano and got a taxi to the train station, making my way to Melbourne to shop for a gown and get my hair and make-up done.

I threw my credit card at the time-limit crisis and Melbourne came up tops.

It didn’t take me long to find the perfect dress for the occasion: a dark-green, plunge, halterneck evening gown.

With my hair expertly styled into a loose updo, wavy tendrils framing my face, and heavily mascaraed eyelashes paired with bold red lipstick, I finished the look with thin, gold dangling earrings and a pair of towering stilettos.

When I clock his jaw drop as I step out of the taxi, I relax into a smile, pleased to see he approves of my choices. The credit-card bill is worth it.

‘You look beautiful,’ he says in wonder as I approach him. His gaze running down my dress and back up again, he meets my eye and swallows, his throat bobbing. ‘God, you look unbelievable . I can’t believe I get to walk in there with you.’

Hoping the bronzer is working well to hide my fierce blush at his reaction, I reach out to take his hand, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, careful not to smudge my lipstick.

‘You were amazing this morning. I swear, Leo, you have such a strong chance of winning this contest; everyone was saying it. I’m so proud of you.’

‘Iris,’ he breathes, still taking me in, ‘I couldn’t give a shit about the contest right now. I’m about to spend the evening with the most beautiful woman in the world.’

Letting go of my hand, he holds out his arm and I gladly take it, smiling at the doorman, who greets us with a tip of his hat as we head through the glass doors of the hotel, through the grand lobby to The Clarendon Ballroom.

‘Remember, we agreed not to tell your mum about us,’ I remind him in a hurried whisper as we join the other guests filtering into the event. ‘We’re colleagues.’

‘Not with you in that dress, we’re not.’

‘I’m serious, Leo,’ I say, giving him a look. ‘You did explain that to the publicist when you RSVP’d and asked for a plus one, right?’

‘Yes, stop worrying,’ he assures me. ‘Even if nothing was going on between us, I still wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off you. No one else will be able to, either.’

I exhale, my breath shaky, betraying my nerves. It would be a big enough deal meeting Michelle Martin in any scenario, but showing up on the arm of her son feels particularly bold. My hope is that she’s going to be too busy hosting and focusing on catching up with Leo to pay much attention to me.

Once we’re in, I don’t hesitate to take the glass of champagne I’m offered, while Leo accepts the mocktail option.

One of the girls on the door said she’d let Michelle know Leo had arrived, so we linger amongst the guests at the back, admiring the lavish setting with its sparkling chandeliers and extravagant flower displays.

Music is being provided by an orchestra at the other end of the space. No expense has been spared.

There’s a camera crew working the room, all dressed in black, doing their best to move around and get involved without disturbing the conversations between guests. I assume they’re collecting stock images of the night for Michelle’s documentary.

‘Do you know anyone else here?’ I ask, glancing around the room.

‘No one. Not exactly my usual crowd,’ he says with a wry smile.

‘At least you’ll have something in common to talk about should we mingle.’

He tugs at his collar. ‘What’s that? How restraining a bow tie is?’

‘I meant the ocean,’ I laugh, swatting his hand away. ‘It’s a fund to protect and conserve the oceans, right? Stop fidgeting; you look sexy.’

‘When can I undo this thing?’

‘Not yet. You’ve been in it all of five minutes. Although…’ I hesitate, looking up at him beneath my heavy eyelashes ‘…you would look even sexier with it untied and your top button undone. I think I’d like to see that.’

A mischievous glint appears in his eye, his hand finding my waist. ‘That can be arranged. What are you doing after this?’

Giggling, I nudge his hand from my hip, glancing around to make sure that no one’s watching.

It’s lucky that Leo and I get on so well, since we’re left to our own devices for a while. We bide our time, reading through all the boards they’ve set up by the door that provide information about the project and statistics about the ocean.

‘This initiative is seriously impressive,’ I comment, sipping my champagne. ‘Your mum must be very passionate about the ocean. Also, as if there’s 1,625 different species of fish in The Great Barrier Reef! I can maybe name, like, four types of fish.’

‘Go on.’

‘What?’

‘What are the four types of fish you can name?’

‘Fine. Tuna, salmon, sea bass… and cod.’

His lips curve into a smile. ‘You’re naming the ones you eat, aren’t you.’

‘Goldfish!’ I add on excitedly. ‘And that Nemo one.’

‘Clownfish,’ he tells me. ‘Well done, London, you got five and a half.’ He gives me a stern look. ‘Only half a point for “that Nemo one”, since that’s not the actual name of the species.’

‘Bet you’re full of random fish facts.’ I roll my eyes. ‘Why is it that you have these random animal facts squirreled away in your brain?’

‘I like animals,’ he answers simply. ‘If I learn something interesting about them, I try to remember it.’

‘I still can’t believe you said I was like a meerkat,’ I sigh.