Unwrapping Her Italian Doc

Hugh arched his neck at Louise’s openness and Emily smiled.

They both loved her.

As they arrived at the rather nice venue, Louise got her first full-length look at Emily.

‘You look gorgeous and I want one …’ she said, referring to Emily’s six–months-pregnant belly, which was tonight dressed in black and looking amazing.

‘You will soon,’ Emily said, because Louise had shared with her her plans to get pregnant next year.

‘I hope so.’

Louise’s eyes scanned the room. It had been very tastefully decorated—there were pale pinkish gold twigs in vases on the tables and pale pinkish gold decorations and lights that twinkled, and there was Anton, talking to Alex, who was Hugh’s boss, and Rory was with them as well.

Perfect, Louise thought as the trio made their way over and all the hellos began.

‘Aren’t the decorations gorgeous?’ Emily said, but Louise pulled a face.

‘Some colour would be nice. Who would choose pink for Christmas decorations?’ As a waiter passed with a tray, she took a mini pale pink chocolate that the waiter called a frosted snowball but even the coconut was pink. ‘They have a theme,’ she said, and smiled at Anton, but it went to the wall because he wasn’t looking at her.

‘No Jennifer?’ Hugh checked with Alex, because normally his wife Jennifer accompanied him on nights such as this.

‘No, Josie’s got a fever.’ Alex explained things a little better for Anton. ‘Josie’s our youngest child. You haven’t yet met my wife Jennifer, have you?’

‘Your wife?’ Anton said. ‘I have heard a lot of nice things.’

Perhaps because Louise was close to PhD level in Anton’s facial features, Anton’s accent, Anton’s words, oh, just everything Anton, she frowned just a little at his slightly vague response. Still, she didn’t dwell on it for long because he simply looked fantastic in an evening suit. Her eyes swept his body, taking in his long legs, his very long black leather shoes and then, when her mind darted to rude places, she looked up. His olive complexion was accentuated by the white of his shirt and he was just so austere that it made her want to jump onto his lap and whisper in his ear all the things she wanted him to do to her for Christmas.

Oh, a relationship might not be on the agenda but so pointed was his dismissal of her tonight that they were clearly both thinking sex.

‘Is that holly on your stockings?’ Rory asked, and everyone looked down to examine Louise’s long legs.

Everyone, that was, but Anton.

‘Yes, I got them free after that shoot I did a couple of months ago,’ Louise said. ‘I’ve been dying to wear them ever since. Got to get into the Christmas spirit. Speaking of which, does anyone want a drink?’

‘No, thank you,’ Alex said.

‘I’ll have a tomato juice,’ Emily sighed. ‘A virgin bloody Mary.’

‘Hugh?’ Louise asked.

‘I’d love an eggnog.’

‘Yay!’ Louise said. ‘Anton?’

‘No, thank you.’

‘Are you sure?’ Louise said. ‘I thought I owed you one.’

‘I’m fine,’ he responded, barely looking at her. ‘I think Saffarella is getting me a drink. Here she is …’

Here she was, indeedy!

Rippling black hair, chocolate-brown eyes, a figure to die for, and she was so seriously stunning that she actually made Louise feel drab, especially when her thick Italian accent purred around every name as introductions were made.

‘Em-il-ee, Loo-ease.’

On sight the two women bristled.

It was like two cats meeting in the back yard and Louise almost felt her tail bush up as they both smiled and nodded.

‘Sorry, I didn’t catch your name,’ Louise said.

Saffarella was already getting on her nerves.

‘Saffarella,’ she repeated in her beautiful, treacle voice, and then was kind enough to give Louise a further explanation. ‘Like Cinderella.’

With a staph infection attached, Louise thought, but thankfully Rory knew Louise’s humour and decided to move her on quickly!

‘I’ll come and help you with the drinks.’ Rory took Louise’s arm and they both walked over to the bar.

‘Good God!’ Louise said the second they were out of earshot.

‘No wonder you’ve got nowhere with him.’ Rory laughed. ‘She’s stunning.’

‘Oh!’ Louise was seriously rattled, she was far too used to being the best-looking woman in the room. ‘What sort of name is Saffarella? Well, there goes my fun for the night. I thought I’d at least get a dance with him. I don’t have anyone to fancy any more,’ Louise sighed. ‘And I’m going to look like a wallflower.’

‘Don’t worry, Louise.’ Rory smiled. ‘I’ll dance with you.’

‘You have to now,’ Louise said. ‘I’m not having him seeing me sitting on my own. I was so positive that he liked me.’

Louise returned with Emily’s virgin bloody Mary but then she caught sight of Connor and Miriam and excused herself and headed over for a good old catch up with ex-colleagues. It was actually a good, if not brilliant night—Rory was as good as his word and midway through proceedings he did dance with her.

Rory was lovely, possibly one of the nicest men that a woman could know.

In fact, Rory was the last really nice boyfriend that Louise had had.

There was absolutely nothing going on between them. Their parting, three years ago, had been an amicable one. Though most people lied when they said that, in Rory and Louise’s case it had been true. Just a few weeks into their relationship Louise had, while undergoing what she’d thought were basic investigations for her erratic menstrual cycle, received the confronting news that, when the time came, she might not fall pregnant very easily.

It hadn’t been a complete bombshell, Louise had known things hadn’t been right, but when it had finally dropped Louise had been inconsolable. Rory had put his hands up in the end and had said that, as much as he liked her, there wasn’t enough there to be talking baby, baby, baby every day of the week.

They were far better as exes than as a couple.

‘How’s Christmas behaving?’ Rory asked, as they danced.

‘Much better this time.’

‘You look so much happier.’