Page 15 of Love ad Lib
‘Er, no, I gave the last of it to you the other day.’
‘And you haven’t made any more yet?’
‘I’ve been a bit busy.’
‘Well, let me know when you do. There’s nothing like it in the whole of London.’ He lifted her chin with his finger and thumb. ‘And nothing like you, either, my Lib-Lob.’
He winked at her and strolled out of the door with a wave.
She shut it behind him and went back to the kitchen. Her plate was still clean and empty. She glanced at the clock just in time to see it strike seven.
3
TWO DAYS LATER
Henry’s mobile rang. He looked away from his financial calculations and squinted at the screen.Mom. He turned the ringer off and put it back on his desk. This deal was complicated and he needed to focus. The desk phone chirped to life. He lifted the receiver and slammed it straight back down.
Five minutes later, a throaty laugh cut through his concentration as it danced towards him from the far end of the office.
He glanced up.Oh God, no.
Strolling towards him was his mother. Arm-in-arm with James Hunter-Savage.
‘Foxy!’ James crowed. ‘I can’t believe you hung up on your own mum.’ He shook his head. ‘Especially one as incredible as Vivienne Boucher.’
Vivienne released James’s arm. ‘Boucher-Foxbrooke.’
James gave a little bow. ‘And the most stunning duchess our humble shores have ever been graced with.’
She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at him, her eyes alight. ‘You are a very naughty boy.’
He winked. ‘Man, my lady—I’m all man.’
Henry grabbed his jacket, phone and wallet, and pushed past James as if he were invisible. Leading his mother out of the office, he ignored the silent faces watching the exchange from their desks. When they reached the bank of lifts in the corridor outside, his breath came out in a rush.
‘Mom, what are you doing here? I’m at work.’
She called the lift. ‘And it’s lunch time, honey.’
He rubbed his forehead. ‘Aren’t you meant to be in Paris?’
‘That was last week.’
The lift doors opened and he followed his mother inside.
‘Simone and Laurent say hi,’ she continued. ‘Apparently your cousins can’t wait for your thirtieth. Camille and Olivier haven’t visited since they were teenagers. Can you believe it?’
Henry’s stomach knotted. The party had been in the planning for years, but he would do anything to get out of it.
‘Are you sure you don’t want more input?’ his mother asked. ‘Anythingyouwant to do?’
He shook his head. The only thing he wanted was for his birthday to pass without incident. It was impossible, however, to get out of the triple celebration: Estelle’s and his thirtieth, and their grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Somerset, turning eighty.
‘I’m sure that between you, Mammy, Estelle and Gram-Gram, you’ve got it covered.’
They reached the ground floor, and the elevator opened into the spacious lobby.
‘Of course we do, honey, but it’s like you don’t want to be there.’
