Page 119 of Untether

He laughs and shakes his head. ‘Jesus, you’re relentless. Look, I’ll bear it in mind. But… it sounds like a lot. I’m a pretty straightforward guy when it comes to, you know. Sex.’

I frown. ‘You had a textbook Catholic education at the hands of Benedictine monks. There’s no way there isn’t a little kink buried in there somewhere.’

76

AIDA

“The world was all before them…

and Providence their guide.”

—Milton,Paradise Lost

In the end, it’s not Cal’s shirtless Instagrams, or the ‘candid’ shots of us Alchemy’s been dropping on its social channels, or any of the paparazzi shots we orchestrated that win the public over.

It’s some footage from inside the nightclub we all went to after Belle and Rafe’s engagement party, and afterward, as we stood on the sidewalk waiting for a cab. The footage is grainy and crappy and obviously shot on some random person’s iPhone.

But it doesn’t matter.

They’ve captured us on the dance floor, slow dancing together in a way that’s also really dirty (this is Cal we’re talking about), and then outside, Cal’s arms around my big, furry coat, holding me in a vice as he kisses me. And I getwhy the tabloids paid up for this content, because no matter how low quality it is, it does an amazing job of showing our chemistry.

We look smoking together. I can’t deny it. We’re sexy and hungry and adorable and besotted.We fit.I guess I have to be grateful to the unknown person who invaded our privacy and recorded us without our permission—or knowledge. Because you can’t fake this kind of authenticity.

When I was on theGordon Kay Show, Cal sat in the audience looking handsome and adoring, and the cameras panned to him frequently while Gordon was interviewing me. Mara’s verdict was that we did good: that the public was starting to tentatively ship us.

The headlines around this footage tell me the goodwill towards us is building. A lot of them are plays on the name of my show.AIDA FINDS PARADISE WITH SEX CLUB OWNERorLOOKS LIKE PARADISE.It’s all gold for the show’s prospects.

But is it awful that my favourite headline is in theMirrorand is accompanied by a still of Cal’s head buried in my neck on that Mayfair sidewalk? The headline isJOHN WHO?

It’s spiteful and mean spirited and vindictive, and I’m definitely a horrible person. But when your year has been dominated by lurid headlines surrounding the antics of your cheating ex, that headline is like a shot of crack to your veins. I laughed so hard when I saw it. If it wasn’t for the boys, I’d probably frame it and put it in the bathroom.

John who, indeed.

The man who’s come over to Shepherds Bush to drag me out of my office at the Television Centre and take me to lunch at White City House is most definitely not my aristocratic ex-husband.

Nope. This man is young, and stunningly good-looking, and so obviously dripping with carnality it should be illegal. Mara may have joined us for a debrief given today’s press buzz, but I only have eyes for Cal.

My club is a phone-free zone, and for that reason, it’s usually celebrity-heavy. But Cal and I have gotten a few looks, and our photograph was in full view on the stack of papers in reception when we arrived.

I’m openly admiring my hot boyfriend in his snug black cashmere turtleneck and jeans when Mara looks up from her phone.

‘Huh,’ she says.

‘What?’ I ask without looking away from Cal, who’s returning my ravenous stare with his bestdo I have plans for yousmile.

‘If you could stop eye-fucking each other for long enough, I’ll tell you.’

I twist my mouth in amusement and tear my gaze away. ‘Sorry. What is it?

She jerks her head toward Cal. ‘Looks like I’ve got myself a new client. GQ wants to interview this one.’

‘Angle?’ I ask, right as he shakes his wrist out in that universal male signal of self-satisfaction.

‘Fuck, yeah,’ he hisses. That warrants an eye roll, so I treat him to one.

‘Looks like “real men fall for strong, powerful women” kind of vibe,’ she says.

Well, isn’t that nice?

---