I down my champagne and abandon the glass on a nearby table. I’m about to head off to the gents for a pee to give me something to do when a woman with sleek dark hair wearing a tight emerald-green dress appears in front of me. My first thought is that she looks like a mermaid.
‘Mr Redbush?’ She tilts her head to one side and hands me a glass of champagne.
‘Hugo, please,’ I say, as Olivia said I should in almost all situations. ‘And you are?’
‘Ria. I run an events company, it’s called, um, Ria Events.’
I laugh, even though it isn’t funny. ‘Good name.’
‘Thanks,’ she says, blushing. ‘Sometimes we book locations and hotels through Redbush Holidays, which is why I’m …’
‘It’s very kind of you to come,’ I say. ‘I hope you are enjoying the evening?’
I sound like some kind of Victorian gentleman or Montgomery Burns from The Simpsons. I am always rubbish at speaking to women. I look over Ria’s shoulder to see if I can spot Olivia.
‘It’s lovely here,’ she says, circling her finger around the top of her champagne glass. ‘I mean, it’s a lovely venue. I haven’t been here before.’
‘You never came to the museum as a child?’ I ask.
‘No.’ She pauses. ‘My childhood was rather odd. But you don’t want to hear about that now.’
I do actually, but feel it would now be impolite to ask.
Ria looks up at me through long, dark lashes. ‘In all honesty, I’m not much good at parties. I always find events like this intimidating. I feel I have to come for the sake of networking and the like but, honestly, I’d rather be in a quiet bar chatting one-to-one with someone.’
I smile. ‘I know exactly how you feel.’
She takes a strand of her almost-black hair and twirls it around her finger. I feel a stirring of lust in my groin and panic – is she about to walk off?
‘All these people,’ she continues. ‘So exhausting. In many ways, I think I’m in the wrong line of work. I make my living organizing parties and events, but I’d rather gouge my eyes out than actually go to one. In many ways, I’m just not that good with people.’
I smile. ‘I’m totally with you there. I’m not supposed to admit this, but these parties fill me with dread. I’m much happier talking one-to-one too.’ Argh. Does that sound too cheesy? Like a bad pick-up line?
Olivia reappears at my side. ‘Right. All sorted. Now then …’
‘Olivia – this is Ria. She runs Ria Events and books locations through Redbush sometimes.’ Making an introduction. Giving them both some information about each other. Olivia will be impressed – it’s what she’s always trying to drill into me. I don’t want Olivia to whisk me off to talk to more boring men in shiny suits – I want to stay here and talk to Ria. She’s the only woman who’s spoken to me all evening, and definitely the only person I’ve met here, or anywhere recently for that matter, who I’d actually like to spend more time with.
Olivia extends her hand. ‘Ria. Lovely to meet you. Thank you for coming. I hope you’re enjoying the evening? I’m so sorry, but I’ll need you to excuse Hugo, he has to give a speech …’
‘It was lovely to meet you, Ria. I’d love to continue our conversation later,’ I say. I feel myself blush. I’m terrible at this. Was that too direct? Am I going to scare her away? Am I supposed to pretend I’m not bothered in case she thinks I’m a potential stalker? Might she even think I’m harassing her? Am I being inappropriate as she’s a client? Would she feel like she had to come for a drink with me if I asked? It’s such a minefield talking to women these days. ‘I mean, only if you’d like to …’ I bluster.
Olivia looks at her watch, clearly embarrassed for me. ‘Hugo, we need to—’
‘I’d love to,’ Ria says, to my utter amazement.
Olivia’s mouth drops open. I clap my hands together, and then silently admonish myself for doing so. ‘Great! Well, I’ll get my presentation out the way, then we can go somewhere quieter. Nicer. Just you and me. Like we were talking about a minute ago.’
She smiles shyly. ‘Yeah. That would be lovely.’
Olivia takes me by the arm and smiles tightly at Ria. ‘Will you excuse us, please?’
‘I’ll see you by the stage in twenty minutes,’ I call behind me to Ria as Olivia bustles me away.
‘What was that about?’ Olivia hisses.
‘What? Can’t I ask a girl out if I want to? I mean, ask a woman out?’
Olivia rolls her eyes. ‘Well of course you can, but this is hardly the time or the place. You’re supposed to be networking, not asking out the first female who thrusts her tits at you. You’re the boss here – there’s no need to be so grateful.’
I am mildly shocked – Olivia never speaks to me like that. Or rather, she does but I’ve never heard her say anything like ‘tits’ before. She sighs, stops marching me towards the stage and turns to face me.
‘Sorry. Who you do or don’t ask out is none of my business – it’s up to you, of course. I just don’t want to see you … taken advantage of.’
I don’t entirely understand what she means. I get that some women are going to find my money attractive but that doesn’t mean I can’t take anyone out for a drink, does it? Sometimes I think that’s why I’m still on my own. It’s easy for me to assume women who want to spend time with me are only after my money. Sometimes they are. But I like to think I can spot those women a mile off. Besides, even if I include the so-called gold-diggers, I’m hardly beating off women with a stick.
‘Thank you for your concern, but I’m a big boy, Olivia, I can make my own decisions,’ I say primly. ‘Now, shall we get this presentation out of the way?’
The presentation is mortifying as usual but I read the words on the autocue and everyone claps politely, no doubt counting the minutes until they can get back to drinking their champagne. I can’t concentrate properly, wondering if Ria will be waiting for me like she said or if she’s already gone off to giggle with her friends about how dorky I was when we spoke. Perhaps she was only talking to me as part of a bet or dare. It’s not like that’s never happened before, though admittedly not for a good few years (or not that I know of, at least). Do grown-ups do that kind of thing? I don’t really know.
I step down off the stage and Ria is there at the front, right where I suggested she wait. I grin. Maybe I didn’t mess things up too badly this time. ‘Ready?’ I ask.
She smiles back. ‘Ready.’
I ignore Olivia, who is frantically trying to tell me that I need to stay at the party and network some more. Business can wait this time.
We go to my club, though I’m not sure it’s quite the right place to take someone like Ria. While it’s quiet and exclusive, it’s not exactly what you might call hip. But as I almost never go out socially, I can’t think of anywhere else to go.
We sit on a low sofa, facing each other and holding those enormous gin and tonics with peppercorns and rosemary they serve there. I don’t consider myself the most interesting of people, but Ria is easy to talk to and laughs at my feeble jokes. She keeps touching my arm to make her point and, after a few more drinks, her leg is pressed up against my leg. Despite my lack of confidence when it comes to these things, a couple of hours later when I ask her if she’d like to come home with me and she says yes, I’m not really that surprised.