Page 117 of Ride the Wave

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 theStudioarticle – 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 lookunbelievable. 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.’

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