Mediterranean Boss, Convenient Mistress

‘She’s unbelievable,’ Charlie muttered and at the same time she wondered if there was method in Sarah’s madness. Perhaps she had herself in mind to be on the arm of her darling doctor? ‘It’s just absurd.’

‘Well…’ Marco shrugged. ‘I suppose if I did get together with someone I could prove my research that love isn’t the most important prerequisite for a successful relationship. However…’ he grinned ‘…I’m not entirely sure I approve of Sarah’s suggestion and I told her that.’

Charlie nodded emphatically and enjoyed picturing the disappointment on Sarah Heart’s face as Marco disagreed with her. Sarah was undoubtedly very beautiful but she had all the warmth of the dark side of the moon. It was somehow gratifying to know that the woman didn’t get everything she wanted.

Marco directed her down some side-streets and a few seconds later they turned through the gates into the radio station. A security guard raised the barrier and allowed them in. ‘Will you park the car, Charlie?’ Marco asked as he looked at his watch. ‘I should go straight in.’

‘Yes, of course.’ She pulled to a halt by the front door. ‘Do you want me to wait for you out here?’

‘No, come in and get a coffee.’ He reached for the handle and stepped out of the car. ‘I’ll tell the receptionist to expect you.’

Charlie noticed how a young woman walking towards the building gave him an admiring look. He said something to her and then held the door so that she could precede him into the building. She looked as if she was going to swoon. It was no wonder, because he really was drop-dead gorgeous, Charlie thought dreamily. Everything about him was sexy, from the way he dressed…to the way he just looked at you as if he could unlock the secrets of your soul. It was little wonder that Sarah Heart had designs on him.

Realising that she was just sitting staring after him, Charlie shook herself out of her contemplation and drove the car around the back of the building to park. Then she collected her bag and walked towards the front entrance.

As she reached the front door a taxi pulled up. The door of the vehicle opened and a pair of high black stiletto boots and long, shapely legs swung out. As Charlie’s gaze moved upwards she saw a red skirt, and then as the woman uncurled herself from the car completely a long black cashmere coat swirled around her. It was Sarah Heart and as usual she looked very glamorous, her long brunette hair shimmering with cappuccino highlights in the sun, the perfect proportions of her face flawlessly made-up with a light smudging of gold frosted shadow over her dark eyes and a glossy shimmer of ruby-red on the fullness of her lips.

‘Hello, Sarah.’ Charlie stood and waited for her.

‘Hi.’ The woman gave her what could only be described as a look of dismissal before turning to pay the taxi driver. Charlie was tempted to just walk into the studio without her, but she forced herself to wait.

‘Did you manage to spring your celeb client from jail?’ she asked as the woman turned to walk with her into the building.

‘Yes, thank you, although it is a confidential matter that I’d rather Marco hadn’t mentioned to you.’

‘Well, maybe you shouldn’t have told him in the first place then.’ Charlie couldn’t resist the retort. Really, the woman could be most disagreeable.

Sarah ignored that. ‘Is Marco already in the building?’ she continued, unperturbed.

‘Yes, he went on ahead.’

‘Good…well, I suppose there is little point in you hanging around, then, not now that I’m here.’

‘Marco has asked me to stay,’ Charlie said firmly. She wasn’t about to be dismissed in such a manner.

‘I thought you might have typing to get on with,’ the woman shrugged, ‘or some filing perhaps.’

Charlie wondered if Sarah practised that condescending tone or if it just came naturally to her. She decided to ignore the remark and followed her towards the front desk.

Sarah nodded at the receptionist. ‘I’m here with Marco Delmari,’ she said in a crisply confident tone.

‘And your name?’ The receptionist looked down at the register in front of her.

‘Sarah Heart.’ Sarah drummed one well-manicured hand against the desk as she waited.

‘I’m sorry, Ms Heart, but I don’t appear to have your name on my list.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Sarah looked as if she was about to turn an interesting shade of purple.

Before she could launch into a scathing remark Charlie leaned across her. ‘Excuse me, but have you got my name on the list? It’s Charlotte Hopkirk,’ she said quietly.

The woman ran her eyes over the book again. ‘Oh, yes, your name is here, Ms Hopkirk.’

‘Good, well, this is Dr Delmari’s publicist, so she should be down as well.’

‘I see.’ The girl smiled at Charlie. ‘Then I guess it’s OK for her to accompany you through. You’ll find Dr Delmari in the hospitality suite next door to studio five, the door should be open.’

‘Thank you.’

‘What on earth are you thanking her for?’ Sarah muttered as they moved away from the desk. ‘She was clearly incompetent.’

‘Your name wasn’t down, so it was hardly her fault. Anyway no harm done; it’s just a good job that I stayed with you,’ Charlie couldn’t resist adding.

Sarah slanted her a narrow-eyed look but said nothing.

They found Marco talking to the station manager. He smiled over at Charlie as she walked through the door. Then he turned his attention to his publicist. ‘Sarah, this is a surprise! There was no need for you to rush down here.’

‘I wanted to, Marco. I’m so sorry I was held up,’ she said smoothly. Charlie noticed how her voice had softened now that she was talking to Marco. Then she flashed a winning smile at the station manager. ‘Sarah Heart,’ she said as she extended her hand. ‘Marco’s publicist.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Ms Heart.’

‘Call me Sarah, please,’ she practically purred.

‘Well, Sarah, we are just waiting for our DJ Sam Richmond to come through and have a word with Marco then we’ll go through to the studio.’

‘How is Sam?’ Sarah gushed. ‘It’s a while since I saw him.’

‘You’re a friend?’ the station manager asked.

‘Oh, yes, Sam and I go way back.’

He was probably ex-husband number three, Charlie thought darkly. According to gossip Sarah had been married and divorced four times, which was no mean feat by the age of thirty-eight. Ex-husband number four had been a top TV executive and a wealthy man. It was through his contacts and money that Sarah had started her business.

The DJ came in at that moment and Sarah made a performance out of greeting him and introducing him to Marco. She probably wouldn’t have bothered to include Charlie only Sam Richmond smiled at her and reached to shake her hand.

‘Oh, and that’s Charlie,’ she tagged on, her tone less than gracious. ‘She’s—’

‘My right-hand woman,’ Marco finished the sentence smoothly.

Charlie caught Marco’s eye and he smiled at her. Something about that smile made her feel warm and special. It was a delicious feeling. She almost had to shake herself to get rid of its dreamy effect.

A few moments later she was left alone in the hospitality suite as Sarah accompanied the men through to the studio. Charlie poured herself a coffee from a pot that was sitting on the sideboard and sat down in one of the comfortable armchairs to wait. She could see the others through the glass partition between her and the studio next door but she couldn’t hear what they were saying, she could only hear the record that was being played on air.

She found herself watching Marco, studying him as he talked. She liked the sincerity in his eyes as he listened to people, and she noticed that when he smiled he had a dimple in his cheek. As she glanced away her eyes connected with Sarah’s and she knew the other woman had caught her watching her boss. Hastily she looked away feeling guiltily uncomfortable…although for the life of her she couldn’t work out why.

She had just got up to replenish her coffee when Sarah joined her. ‘I’ll have one of those while you’re there,’ she told Charlie as she sat down. ‘White, no sugar.’

Charlie poured her the drink and handed it across. She noticed how Sarah didn’t even bother to say thank you. She really was quite rude, Charlie thought with annoyance.