Page 16 of Love ad Lib
Henry gave his mother a look as they started towards the front of the building. ‘You know I don’t want to be there.’
She gifted him one of her thousand kilowatt smiles in return. ‘You never know, you might enjoy yourself?’
He rolled his eyes and held the door open for her.
Outside, the streets were filled with City suits, barking at each other or into a phone. Everyone gave them second glances. Henry tried to fit in, and most of the time, succeeded. However, his mother had made a career of standing out from the crowd and revelled in the attention.
Today her hair was styled in neat braids. Her cheekbones shimmered with a dusting of gold, and her lips were painted a deep, sensuous red. She was wearing a pure-white cashmere coat over a designer sheath dress, and her heels took her almost to Henry’s height. Vivienne Camille Boucher-Foxbrooke was even more beautiful in her early fifties than she’d been in her late teens when she’d started modelling in Paris. And she knew it.
He steered her into the nearest restaurant but lost the battle when it came to where they were seated. Both the Maître d' and Vivienne knew that the best place for a beautiful and titled celebrity, and her handsome and titled son, was by the window for all the world to admire.
‘Avez-vous une bouteille de Perrier-Jouët?’ His mother asked, sparking an animated conversation in French with the Maître d' who was now falling over himself to get Vivienne anything she wanted.
‘Mom, I can’t drink, I’m working.’
She waved her hand dismissively. ‘You need to live a little.’
He bunched his hands into fists under the table, then forced them to relax.Just one lunch. He could work late again that evening. After they’d ordered, she lifted her glass to chink it with his, a mischievous glint in her eye.
‘So…’ she began. ‘Tell me all about your girlfriend.’
He tensed. ‘It’s early days.’
‘And?’
He shrugged.
‘What’s her name? How did you meet?’
Fuck, fuck, fuck!He was totally unprepared for this ambush. He had a second date lined up for next week with a lawyer. She would have to do.
‘Elizabeth,’ he replied. ‘But that’s all you’re going to get.’
‘Aw, c’mon.’
He shook his head.
‘One more thing, please, honey? Where’s she from?’
Libby’s bright face popped into his mind. ‘Hollywood,’ he said without thinking.
‘Oh, really? Now that sounds like something you don’t just make up on the fly. I can’t wait to tell your father.’
‘What?’
‘That you didn’t invent her. We’re all convinced she doesn’t exist.’
‘Excuse me?’ he spluttered.
‘Are you bringing her to the party?’
‘No, absolutely not.’
‘Then she’s not your girlfriend.’
‘How does that make any sense?’
‘It’s your thirtieth. If she’s going to be the most important person in your life, then she should be there by your side.’
