Page 4 of CEO April: Zed Barker
“A couple. Anna is a regular and I’ve heard of Miriam.”
I didn’t enquire as to what he heard about her. Even if I had wanted to, another gentleman interrupted us.
“Friends,” he said, arms outstretched by the doorway. “We have a new guy,” he added, looking my way.
“That’s the duke, a real one,” Darius said, and I wasn’t sure why I needed the clarification as to whether he was a real duke or not.
“Damian,” the duke said, introducing himself. He nodded to Darius and held out his hand to me first. I shook it. “Although everyone just calls me Duke.”
“Zed,” I offered, omitting my last name since he had as well.
“The publisher, yes? Angela has told me all about you. The naughty minx was thrilled when Rebecca swapped herself out.”
Rebecca swapped herself out?Confusion laced my face, and I felt my brow frown.
“Maybe someone here wants to pitch a book to you,” he added for clarification.
I wanted to sigh and roll my eyes. I hated to spend my free time being pitched to and wasn’t the kind to blow them off immediately. I’d spend many an hour listening to a whole plot when I wanted the elevator pitch. Hearing how the book was sure to be a bestseller and Hollywood would be calling.
“Well, I’m suresomeonecan contact me at my office next week, if that’s the case,” I said, noting that Angela had joined the group of women.
“Duke, that is simply not the case and you know it. Zed, ignore him. He lives to stir trouble,” Angela said, and I relaxed. “Since we are all here, would you like to follow me through for afternoon tea?”
We did and found ourselves in a dining room with a buffet set to one side. Serving staff filled plates and refreshed glasses and we sat at a rather ornate antique dining table. Angela sat to one side of me and Miriam the other.
“Have you had a chance to look through your itinerary?” Angela asked.
“I haven’t, fully. Just a quick glance.”
“After tea we have a spa experience. I think you might enjoy that.”
“I think I will,” I replied, having no idea what she meant.
We continued to chat and most of what I overheard was often coupled with an innuendo of some sort. It wasn’t hard to notice there was a pairing up, as such. Darius was deep in conversations and couldn’t get any closer to her cleavage if he tried, with Anna. Miriam was running her nails up and down the duke’s arm and Angela was waiting on me as if she were staff and I was the guest of honour.
“Are there any more guests arriving?” I asked, bringing my attention back to Angela.
“Yes, a couple more. Harry never arrives until dinner is practically served and Laura should be here soon.”
“Is that the usual number of guest for one of yourparties?”
She laughed. “No, this is a small, intimate, gathering. A soirée.”
She told me she owned properties in the UK and the US, she held small parties, and then there could be others with a hundred or so guests. She wasn’t bragging or name-dropping but it wasn’t difficult to know she ran with the elite, the upper class, and the movie stars. Which brought a question to my mind.
“The duke told me that Rebecca, my personal assistant, usually attends but she gave up her place for me. Is that so?”
Angela turned on her chair to face me. She placed one hand on my thigh. “She’s a lovely woman and so very popular among my friends. She didn’t swap out; she wasn’t booked in this weekend. However, she did call and ask if there was a spare place going and could you attend. Of course, I wanted to accommodate her.”
It was the second time I’d heard the termswap out, and I only thought I understood what she meant.
“No more chat,” she said, and then turned to the rest of the table. She clapped her hands for silence. “Friends, I think we all deserve a little massage. Please, let’s adjourn to the spa.”
I wanted to ask if we should change our clothes but seeing that everyone else simply got up and walked to the French doors, answered my question. Bemused, I followed. We crossed the patio and along a small secluded pathway until I saw a large log cabin with a few wooden hot tubs in front of it. Standing at an open door was a couple, both dressed in white uniforms. Both very ‘Nordic’ looking. We were welcomed in a Scandinavian accent and shown to a single dressing room, told to strip, robe up, and take advantage of the hot tubs outside before treatments.
Hanging along the back wall were white fluffy robes, lined up on the floor were the usual type of white towelling slippers one would expect at a luxury spa. Not through embarrassment, but I hung back, delayed the ‘strip’ to see if we were really going to do this in a communal changing room. With the women peeling off trousers and skirts, blouses and jumpers, the men trying not to stare, even though they were adults and not teenagers, I chuckled. Yep, we were really stripping in the one room.
I slipped off my jeans and pulled my shirt over my head, other than toeing off my loafers, that was me undressed. I pulled a robe from a hook and slipped it on. While pushing my feet into too small slippers, I tied the belt around my waist.
