Page 74 of Worth Every Penny

The rest of the day drags as the party approaches. Mum has hardly spoken to me since she harassed me out of bed, and Curtis has been avoiding me since the incident at the pool yesterday. Jack’s been so busy helping Mum get everything ready that I haven’t had a chance to speak to him.

Part of me wishes I’d taken Nico up on his offer to drive me back to London, but if I’d done that, then we wouldn't have shared that crazy, intense, mind-blowing moment in the hall.

By the time the party is in full swing, I’m grateful for the distraction.

There must be a hundred people here, scattered across the lawn, all quaffing champagne and munching on canapes, which, incidentally, are delicious.

My cheeks ache from fake-smiling.

It’s boiling, and my dress is sticking to my thighs.Damn it. I fan my face with my hand, but it makes no difference. The sky is bright blue, not a cloud to be seen, and the air smells like freshly cut grass.

Jack somehow looks composed and handsome in a linen shirt and burgundy chino shorts, a neat panama hat perched on his dark hair. He approaches across the lawn, concern etched on his face. “About last night…”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t know what to say.”

“I get it. You don’t want to rock the boat. I wouldn’t if I were you either. Your boat is awesome.” I smile, but Jack doesn’t smile back.

With one hand, he lifts his hat from the pinch and re-settles it into his thick hair, lips folded in on one another. “Mum gets these ideas in her head and they drive her mad. I think she wants grandchildren and knows I’m nowhere near ready for that shit, so she’s got a bee in her bonnet about you approaching thirty and being single.”

“There’s always something.”

Jack toes the grass with his suede loafer, observing the motion for a moment before his shrewd gaze cuts to me. “What was going on with you and Nico yesterday?”

Keep calm. Keep calm. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on. I know he said he had a family emergency, but the timing is a bit… suspicious. You and Mum get all weird, Nico steps in… the next thing he’s driving off in the middle of the night. He’s not normally one to run away.” Jack takes a swig ofhis Pimms, emptying half the glass in one go. “Did something happen?”

My body tingles with fear. I glance at him, but he’s peering into his glass, fishing out a strawberry which he pops into his mouth.

“No,” I lie.

“Hmm.” He chews on the strawberry. “You need to be careful with Nico. He’s not just a family friend anymore. He’s your boss.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Jack chuckles. “You should have seen Mum’s face when she found his note. I thought she was going to have an apoplectic fit, and I’d be left mopping bits of her brain off the floor. Either that or it was going to be your brain after she killed you. She was bloody furious.”

I roll my eyes. “She’s always furious with me. I give up trying to please her. There’s no point. Plus”—I elbow Jack—“she has you to make up for all my disappointments.”

Another platter of canapes goes by and I snatch one before it disappears.

As if she knows we’re talking about her, Mum rushes through the crowd towards us, her face like thunder.

I nudge Jack and nod at Mum. “Something’s up.”

“Bloody Curtis,” she hisses. “His art collection arrived too late to go on the walls and the van’s just arrived. Right in the middle of the party.” She grabs Jack’s arm and yanks it. “And to make matters worse, it’s a great big white thing with the most awful things spray-painted all over it. Help them get the stuff out so they can drive away before the guests see. Or the neighbours.” She tugs so furiously at Jack’s arm that I’m surprised it stays in the socket.

“How bad can it be? What does it say?” I ask.

“Stop smirking,” Mum snaps at me. “This is not funny. I’m trying to host a respectable event.”

Jack’s eyes light up and he stares at something over Mum’s head. “It says ‘you mother-fucking piece of—’”

Mum squeaks, and I turn to see the van in question. Foul language and offensive doodles are clearly visible on the paintwork.

Curtis is on the gravel, waving his arms at the driver like some kind of traffic control officer.

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