The Look of Love (19 page)

“Thank you,”
she told them.

Adam was
similarly treated, and when they were both comfortably seated, the
Head Waiter presented them each with a menu.

“The wine
waiter will be along shortly,” he said and left them.

Another waiter
appeared with their drinks. He placed them on the table. Chrissy
had forgotten about her glass of white wine. She thanked him and he
smiled at her and departed. A second waiter then delivered the wine
list to Adam as promised.

When the wine
waiter had left and they were finally alone again, Chrissy said,
“You have warm hands.”

“And you have a
warm back,” Adam replied.

“You know what
they say about warm hands?”

“Do tell
me.”

“Warm hands,
cold heart. Are you cold hearted, Adam?”

“I told you
before that my heart was too warm for the solitary life. As to how
warm, well, you may find out if I am fortunate.”

Chrissy
laughed. It was a short chuckle. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“There is much
to gain. And the more I see and feel you, the more I wish to pursue
our game.”

“That just
means that I’m winning. I told you that you couldn’t match me.”

Adam nodded.
“It is true. And I now concede the point. But your beauty only
succeeds in intensifying my desire to win. I like the way you look,
Chrissy, and the way you feel, even though my touch has been
tantalizingly brief. I also like the way you smell, and I even
liked the sounds you made as you walked to the table. No, I won’t
give up, Chrissy. I want you, and I intend to have you.”

“And there was
I thinking that you were only interested in me for my mind,”
Chrissy replied tartly. She opened the menu and gazed down at it.
“Now then. Shall I be a good girl and go for the table d’hote menu
as it’s cheaper? Or should I make my choice from the a la carte
menu and bleed you dry?”

Adam turned the
page on his menu and said, “You could do even worse and choose the
menu gourmet.”

Chrissy turned
to the appropriate page. “Oh, yes.” She smacked her lips. “Mmmh!
Black pudding and beans for starters! I could go for that!” She
flipped back to another page. “But I also like the idea of the
Venison as a main course. No, I think the a la carte is for me. I
can mix and match what I like.”

Adam nodded.
“As you wish. But I am sure the chef would have preferred ‘A
Medallion of Lancashire Black Pudding on a bed of Beans Garnished
in a Rich Tomato Sauce.’“

Chrissy
chuckled again. “So long as I can eat it with the Venison I don’t
mind what you call it.”

“You seem to
have an appetite for strong and rich meats.”

“I didn’t get
this shape by eating rabbit food, I much prefer the rabbit. You
might say that I come from the Sophia Loren School of Dieting.” She
put on a false Italian accent. “‘What you see I owe to pasta.’ Or
in my case, pie and chips!” She held up her finger. “Oh, and gravy!
You can’t have chips without gravy.”

Adam smiled and
stared at her thoughtfully as she went back to reading her menu.
“You know, there are times when I wish most dearly that we had not
started this game.”

Chrissy looked
up. “Weakening, are we?”

Adam’s smile
broadened. “Maybe I am. I find you most endearing.”

“That’s just my
working class charm, Professor ‘iggins.” Chrissy spoke
sarcastically and her expression had hardened. “That kind of
attitude is very patronising, Adam.”

“On the
contrary. I think you’re lovely and very refreshing. I didn’t mean
to offend you, but you have to remember that most of the women I
have entertained tend to be arrogant and aloof. I think I may have
told you this before. They expect to be wined and dinned
expensively. They are used to it and unimpressed by it. However,
that expectation has made them unappreciative. They are often
contemptuous and bad mannered, and not just with the waiters. They
certainly wouldn’t stoop to thanking them. I think you would refer
to them as ‘stuck up.’”

“Whereas, I am
common and easily pleased?” Chrissy quickly added when he had
finished. She still wasn’t placated. “You’re not finished yet,
Adam, it’s a long creek you’ve worked your way up, and your paddles
are getting shorter by the minute.”

Adam leaned
forward. “If common and easily pleased means that your feet are
firmly fixed on the ground and that you treat people fairly, then I
agree. And I wouldn’t swap you for any of those other women any
day. I could take you to McDonalds and you would eat heartily and
enjoy the conversation just as much as you would here. You
appreciate the things you get and you value them. That bracelet on
your wrist would have meant nothing to one of those other women,
but you knew its value and its worth. You think I’m insulting you,
but I am not. I am praising you.”

Adam was
becoming more and more serious as he spoke. He was no longer
smiling and his voice held a passion that Chrissy hadn’t heard
before.

“Yesterday we
spoke a lot about dreams. We spoke about your dreams and my dreams.
And we spoke about the delights of achieving the attainable, and
about the futility of dreaming for the unattainable. But what we
didn’t talk about was the people who don’t have dreams. They have
expectations instead. That makes them hard. Hard, uncompromising
and unforgiving. I am sick of such people. I meet with them every
day and I despise them. They are constantly conscious of their
position and they look down on anyone else.”

Chrissy was
unforgiving. “Attended the wrong school, did you? Shame.”

“You think my
words are hollow? That I am bleating about the unfairness of the
world?” Adam was suddenly angry. “But you are right! In their world
the livery of your school tie
is
important. More important
than your character or motives. An axe murderer would be accepted
with the right tie and connections, even if he carried his bloody
axe over his shoulder.”

“Would you like
to order, sir?”

Unnoticed, the
Head Waiter had returned.

Adam looked up
at him. Chrissy continued to watch Adam. He looked momentarily
embarrassed, but then he recovered and smiled.

“Yes, I think
we are.” He looked towards Chrissy. “What would you like, my
darling?”

Chrissy made
her order, choosing the dishes from the a la carte menu they had
discussed earlier. Adam then followed. He chose the menu gourmet.
The Head Waiter was instantly replaced by the wine waiter. Chrissy
watched Adam as he chose then ordered the wine.

Chrissy could
tell by his expression and the look in his eyes when he had been
speaking earlier that Adam had been deadly serious. This was
obviously a topic close to his heart, and one that cut deep. She
waited until the waiter had left before she spoke.

“What do you do
for a living, Adam?”

Adam sighed. “I
have an investment company that my father started years ago in the
seventies. Before that my father was a partner in a bank in London
that specialised in overseas investments. He used his knowledge and
overseas contacts to set up the company. I always knew I would
follow in his footsteps, and I did as soon as I left school. What I
know I learned from him. He was a hard teacher. But I have put to
good use everything he taught me.”

“When did he
die?”

“In 1989.” Adam
looked closely at her. “Am I forgiven?”

She nodded.
“I’m glad to see you’re human. It’s the first time I’ve seen you
really angry.”

“I apologise. I
don’t usually loose control like that. But I find the topic of my
working relationships to be very volatile.”

“Some of that
was my fault,” Chrissy said. “I egged you on a bit.”

“No matter.”
Adam paused for a moment then added, “I meant what I said. We could
end the game now if you wish. We could start afresh. This could be
our first date. Do you agree?”

Chrissy shook
her head. “I told you, Adam. I take no prisoners. The only way to
end this game is to win or lose. You started this, remember. You
could have been honest with me, you weren’t.”

Adam sighed.
“You are right, of course. And now you want your revenge.”

The waiters
returned and prepared the table for their starters. Glasses were
changed and the wine brought in. Adam tasted it and nodded. The
waiter then filled Chrissy’s glass.

“If you don’t
like the people you work with, why don’t you just change jobs?”
Chrissy asked as Adam’s glass was being topped up.

“Because it’s
the only thing I know how to do well.”

“What exactly
do you do?”

“I buy and sell
currency.”

“Like the yen
and the dollar?”

“Yes. The yen,
dollar, rupee or shilling. You name it; I’ve probably traded in
it.”

Chrissy was
suddenly fascinated. “So you know the currencies of all sorts of
different countries?”

“Yes. Boring,
isn’t it? But if you can name a country, I’ll tell you its
currency.”

Chrissy was
delighted. She smiled brightly. “I don’t think it’s boring at all!
I think this could be fun! Denmark!”

“That’s easy,
the krone.”

As the waiters
brought in their starters Chrissy tried again.

“Hungary!”

“The
forint.”

“You’re making
that up!” Chrissy accused him.

Adam laughed.
“I am not. I know them all.” Adam began to develop a very smug
expression. “In fact, I’ll make you a wager,” he said with a broad
smile. “If you can name one country that I cannot give you the
correct currency for, you may have the victory in our game.”

“That’s too
easy,” Chrissy remarked. “I’m bound to find a country with a
currency you can’t remember sooner or later.”

“You think so?
Try again.”

Adam picked up
his knife and fork and began to eat. He was very confident. Chrissy
couldn’t resist.

“Nepal.”

“Rupee.”

“Albania.”

“The lek.”

Chrissy stared
at him, her eyes narrow. “How do I know you aren’t making these up?
I mean, who ever heard of the lek?”

“Albanians of
course,” Adam replied smugly. He held up his hand as he saw her
about to protest further. “It is a fair point. We need validation.
I will give you time to look up some countries and their
currencies. That way you will know I am telling the truth. But in
return, I will put a limit on the length of our game. I will give
you fifty countries. If you cannot name a country whose currency I
do not remember out of those fifty, I win. Do you agree?”

Chrissy looked
thoughtful. She picked up her knife and fork. “That seems fair. But
when will I see you again? I’ve got to have the chance to put the
names of the countries to you.”

“Spend the
afternoon with me tomorrow,” Adam replied quickly.

“You slick
bugger!” Chrissy exclaimed. “Alright, Adam! I’ll spend the
afternoon with you tomorrow. It’ll give us the chance to talk about
winnings.”

“I already know
what I want.”

“And what’s
that –as if I didn’t know,” Chrissy said as she ate.

Adam smiled. “I
intend to find out what you’re wearing under that dress.”

Chrissy
swallowed with a gulp, a hand to her chest. “You’re being a bit
premature aren’t you?” she said reaching for her wine.

“Not at all. I
want you at my house, wearing that dress next Saturday night. I
want you to wear exactly the same things as you’re wearing tonight,
down to the last tiny detail. The same perfume, everything. I want
to know what makes that sound when you move and walk. But I want to
find out in my own good time. I want to spend the night with you.
One night, during which I can explore you and truly know you.”

Chrissy stared
at him. “You don’t want much do you?”

Adam shrugged.
“As always, I want the unattainable.”

Slowly she
smiled and nodded her head. “Alright. But tomorrow you can show me
your house. I want to see everything you’ve got. And when I win, I
get to pick whatever I want, no matter what it is. Deal?”

“Deal!”

By the time
Charles returned to pick them up at ten-thirty as arranged, both
Chrissy and Adam were in high spirits.

“Well, Chrissy,
did you enjoy your meal?” Adam asked as they left the
restaurant.

“Yes, I did,”
Chrissy replied, smiling. “I’m glad you talked me into going. I’m a
stuffed bunny. Holland.”

“Yes, a very
expensively stuffed bunny. Guilder.”

“Permit me,
Sir, Miss,” Charles said as he held the door of the car open for
them. “But you both appear to be free of any blood stains. Have you
called a truce?”

“Not at all,
Charles!” Adam said as he walked Chrissy to the car. “We have
merely decided on a more civilised solution to our wager. Isn’t
that so, my dear?”

“Of course,”
Chrissy replied as she climbed into the car. “And a lot of fun it’s
been too. Guatemala.”

“Quetzal.” Adam
followed her in.

“That’s
something you eat at parties.”

“That’s a
pretzel.”

Charles smiled
and closed the door.

Chrissy pointed
warningly at Adam. “If I find out that you’ve been making any of
these up, you forfeit. Understand? Cuba.”

“I understand
perfectly. Peso.”

As they drove
away, Charles said over his shoulder, “I hope you’ve been keeping
count, Miss.”

“I have,”
Chrissy replied. “That’s twenty-three so far.”

The way Charles
had asked his question in such a casual and knowing way brought a
sudden thought to Chrissy’s mind. It was a cold realisation that
caused her nicely filled stomach to sink.

“He’s done this
before hasn’t he, Charles!” she exclaimed in dismay.

“I’m afraid so,
Miss,” Charles replied in a sad voice. “So far it’s eight to one in
Mr Campbell’s favour. The only woman to beat him did so on a count
of forty-nine. She was a financier from New York.”