Consequences

Part 17

Isabelle phoned Doug at three pm that afternoon and arranged to meet him at six at the McIntyre. Fortunately it worked. For they would meet before he headed off to another meeting and she headed for a dinner party at seven thirty. Though why she simply did not tell him what she knew on the phone was a bit of a puzzle. One she explained when they met up that evening.

"Sorry, I didn't want to explain on the phone." She apologised as she got to her feet. She knew that was a little white lie. She could have easily explained on the telephone. But her heart had insisted on meeting him again. Just to see if he still pushed all her buttons. She had never felt such an instant attraction for anyone before. And she wasn't sure why she was attracted to him. A man who clearly had a chip on his shoulder about old society families, and equally clearly he thought she was a spoilt prima donna. So in reality he should be the last person to interest her. But something about him made her world a brighter place.

Isabelle had arrived ten minutes before him, because she wanted to be calm and ready before he arrived. She had ordered a hot chocolate to drink and was mentally rehearsing possible conversation gambits in the lead up to his arrival. Of course the main conversation would be grandmothers.

"Sounds intriguing." Doug took the seat opposite her, gave his coffee order to the waiter who arrived as if by magic, and then focused all his attention on her. It wasn't a hardship. Her jet black hair was in a twisted knot, with a few tendrils floating around her face and neck. Two tiny diamonds winked at her earlobes, and a fine mesh of silver and diamonds formed a choker at her throat. She was wearing a simple bronze silk evening gown that seemed to cause her skin to shimmer. Her makeup was flawless and made her almond shaped eyes even more dramatic. He hesitated for the briefest of micro-seconds, unsure whether his compliment would be gauche, "I imagine you are told this often, but you look lovely." The sincerity was obvious.

Delighted Isabelle smiled at him, genuinely pleased to receive the simple compliment, "Thank you." She tweaked her earlobe nervously, "I didn't think I'd have time to go home and get ready for tonight." She smiled ruefully. "Sorry, it's a bit out of place here. I'm over dressed, but, I.." She was over dressed, and she did have an event to get to later that evening.

This dress took her from pretty to pretty damn spectacular. It was the cut as well as the colour that suited her height, shape and skin tone. She knew she was looking her best, but then she was going all out to interest and attract this man! She was sure this man was not short of dates, so she needed a fail-safe strategy. And for that, only the best would do.

"Don't apologise. You look lovely." And she did. Doug was impressed. The woman was immaculate, and yet managed to convey sexy without being flamboyant. Style. That's what it was, he decided, though he wasn't sure whether style automatically generated sexy. The dress made her skin glow. And with the added sparkle in her eyes, she was sophisticated and sexy.

The waiter moved the glasses of water, and placed Doug's coffee in front of him and then left.

Isabelle watched Doug as he waited for the waiter to leave. Her heart skidded as she studied his profile. The man had a strong jaw, his face was hard, clean cut planes and angles. It could not be described as handsome. Not in the purest sense of the word But she found him attractive. Of course Doug felt her gaze, and his eyes swiveled to clash with hers as he fastened his gaze to hers. His brow quirked. She gulped. So much for not appearing gauche, she thought.

Nervous, her heart tripped, and she launched into speech quickly, "I spoke with my grandmother this afternoon." Isabelle wondered how he was going to take the next bit of news. Doug waited. He knew the strategy would put her on the back foot. But it was a strategy that worked if you wanted people to spill rather than invent. Isabelle winced slightly. "Apparently she met your grandmother at my sister's wedding, about ten days ago?" She prodded. When he nodded, Isabelle continued with the explanation. "I understand she used to be Rafe's nanny or something."

"Yes." His eyes narrowed, as he tried to figure out what that meant. "So?" He braced his elbows on the table and leaned forward.

She licked her lips nervously before saying, "They apparently got talking." Isabelle figured she ought to break the news gently. From Doug's perspective it was like pulling teeth.

"And?" He prompted when she simply chewed on her lower lip and appeared to be contemplating what to say next.

"And, your grandmother told mine that your company was being stalled because you, well, didn't come from..."

"The cultured end of town?" He suggested with a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Something like that." Isabelle felt awkward.

"So?" He prodded, knowing what was coming and yet hoping that he was wrong.

"So, they thought they would help you along. My grandmother didn't think I'd mind lending you my name, because I'm not seeing anyone at the moment."

"Shit!" He rocked back, in bemusement, then added, when he saw her raised brow, "Sorry. Wrong end of town behaviour."

Isabelle banked her smile. She liked his candour. The way he responded with honest emotion. "Your grandmother apparently didn't think you were involved in a serious relationship, whereas, Jared, your friend, is married, and Ryan, your brother and his wife are expecting their first child." She shrugged, "Apparently you were the best option."

"Unbelievable!" Doug snapped tersely recovering from the shock of Isabelle's disclosures.

"Your language is a lot tamer than mine." Isabelle told him with a twinkle in her eyes, hoping to make him see the funny side to the whole thing.

"I doubt that." He replied through gritted teeth.