'I hadn't taken you for a typical woman.'
'And I hadn't taken you for a jaundiced misogynist spouting clichés about stereotypes.'
'Ouch!'
'Sorry. You were just kidding, right?'
'If you were to meet my ex you would appreciate my jaundiced, misogynist's view of female spending habits.'
This was the first time that Ethan had volunteered information about Chloe's mum. The tidbits she had found out about Ethan's socialite ex-wife had all been garnered from Darlene. As for Chloe, she merely saw her mother as a living Barbie doll who sometimes took her out to play. Jem had hoped that she was plastic and false not blonde, gorgeous and long legged. A mental comparison of herself and Celeste was way too depressing.
'Are you sure you want to meet for lunch? You've wasted so much time on me since, um, the accident that I don't want your business and other…matters to suffer.'
'It's not been a waste.' Though he didn't clarify what the time spent on her was. 'My business and other-'the pause Jem felt was deliberate '-matters are not suffering. So lunch it is then. I'll let David know what time once I've checked my schedule. I'll get out of your hair now, shall I?'
'Good.' Ethan's raised eyebrow in response showed Jem that unintentionally she'd voiced her thought out loud. 'oh…I mean Good oh!...Right oh…I'll see you soon, then.'
'Till then.' With a small bow he was gone.
Jem let out a deep relieved sigh. Playing word games with Ethan was draining, the battle to hide her female response to his overwhelming maleness, her growing love for the man, absolutely exhausting. Lunch will be heaven and hell.
Ethan, leaning back into his cars plush leather seats, paused before he opened the Financial Times paper and wondered what she would be buying. More clothes perhaps? Having seen the bill for Darlene's shopping spree he seriously doubted it. Even Celeste couldn't have needed another piece of clothing on top of that inventory, so soon. But then maybe she could, one of her less endearing habits. Since thinking about his ex usually put him in a bad mood he decided to redirect his thoughts.
Maybe she would be buying a birthday present for him? Strange how Darlene hadn't mentioned his forthcoming 35th? A mind like a steel trap, each year since coming into his employ she'd tried to cajole him into throwing a party. Not this year though. One request then it was dropped. Probably forgotten in all the fuss. The advent of Jemima, her name bringing a smile to his lips, had turned his neatly ordered life on its head and probably that of his housekeepers too. To think that he'd actually gone out on a whim and bought himself a boat, all because of a throwaway line of Jem's. And taken a day off work to show it off to boot. Midlife crisis?