I huff, taking my naked body over to my underwear drawer to find my most racy set. Pink lace should do it. I slip it on and retrieve the posh boutique bag, smiling as I unfold the tissue paper that’s protecting the five hundred pound, ultimate taboo dress. She who laughs last, Mr Ward!

I battle with the zip again, sort out my half-finished make-up and present myself to the mirror. I’m very pleased with myself. The cream, silk taboo dress looks damn good, my skin sun kissed, my eyes dark and smoky and my hair a mass of chocolate waves. I slip my feet into my cream Carvella stilettos and spritz myself with Calvin Klein’s Eternity.

‘Fucking hell!’ Kate screeches. I turn to face her, finding her looking up and down my tight, silk clad body. ‘He’ll go mad!’

I scoff. ‘The Lord of the Manor can fuck right off!’

Kate laughs. ‘Oh, you are feeling brave. I love it!’ She walks in, looking her usual stunning self, in a vivid green dress and navy heels. ‘What did he do to deserve this?’

‘He left me pre-orgasm after failing to fuck some sense into me.’ I toss it out there casually. I can’t believe I just admitted that.

Kate falls onto the bed in a helpless heap of laughter. I can’t help but laugh with her. I suppose it is quite funny. ‘God love him,’ she splutters through her hysteria. ‘I’m glad I’m not the only one enjoying the best sex I’ve ever had.’ She wipes the laughter tears from under her eyes.

I’m not at all surprised to hear that – not at all. Sam isn’t walking around her apartment, semi-naked and with that dirty grin on his face, because she’s making him lots of cakes.

‘He has me in knots.’ I shake my head, returning to the mirror to apply my nude lipstick.

‘Have we figured out how old he is yet?’ Kate picks up my bronzer brush to give her pale cheeks an extra dusting.

‘No idea. It’s a no go subject, just like the scar on his stomach.’

She pinches her cheeks. ‘Does it matter? And what scar?’

‘No, it doesn’t. And the scar is quite a nasty affair from here to here.’ I run my finger from the middle of my lower stomach to my hip bone.

She looks at me in the reflection of the mirror. ‘You’re in love with him.’

‘Crazily,’ I admit.

Chapter 32

We bowl past the bouncers of Baroque in fits of giggles. We’re not in the least bit drunk, but the laughter is just rolling tonight.

‘What are you having?’ Kate asks as a waiter approaches us at the bar.

‘Wine,’ I answer, smiling to myself. That was easy.

Kate gets served and we make our way through the Friday night crowd to find the last available table at the back of the bar. I gingerly lift myself onto the bar stool, keeping a good grip of the hem on my dress. It really is taboo.

‘So, tell me. Sam?’ I ask off-the-cuff. I know there’s more to this than sex. I think both of them have met their match. I don’t know Sam, but I know Kate very well, and for her to be dedicating so much time to a man, he must be pretty special. All I know about Sam is that he has a cheeky grin and he likes to run around half naked. She hasn’t spent so much time with a man since my brother. I smile at his impending arrival. I can’t wait to see him, but I won’t be talking about Dan tonight – not with Kate.

She shrugs. ‘Fun,’

‘Come on!’ I exclaim. ‘I’ve divulged far too much information on Jesse. Give me something!’

She sips her wine, placing it back down on the table casually. ‘Ava, he’s not the sort of man you settle down with. I’ll take the fun while it lasts, but I won’t be getting attached.’

I inwardly hiss as Kate reminds me of Sarah’s words about building dreams. ‘How do you know?’ I ask, trying to reign in my drifting thoughts.

‘I just do.’ she says on a half laugh.

I’m a bit disappointed, if I’m honest. She’s lively, amazingly laid back and completely uninhibited – all of the things that Sam seems to be. Well, from what I’ve seen – which is quite a lot. What’s the issue?

‘I like him.’ I admit. He might be an exhibitionist and a complete pest, but he’s very endearing with it.

‘Well, I like Jesse.’

I laugh. Yes she would like him. He brought her a van. But then I recoil. ‘You don’t like him like that do you?’ Oh God, I’d never thought that Kate might be attracted to him. Well, everyone’s attracted to him. I’ve been to the receiving end of numerous sneers from admiring women, but I never thought, not for a moment, that Kate might look at him like that.

‘No!’ She looks at me all offended. ‘I like how much he clearly loves you.’

‘What? He doesn’t love me, Kate. He loves to fuck me.’ I take a long glug of wine to dull the affect that Kate’s statement’s had on me. Or is it the affect of my alternative statement? Clearly loves me, or clearly loves to control me?

‘Ava, again, you’re the master of denial.’

‘How old do you think he is?’ I ask.

Kate shrugs. ‘Mid-thirties, I’m going for a quick fag.’ She slips down from the stool, retrieving her cigarettes from her bag. ‘Wait here, we don’t want to lose the table.’

She makes her way to the smoking area, leaving me pondering my diabolical situation. I’m in love with the trampling, unreasonable control freak. I knew I should have stayed away from him. I can’t help but think that I could have easily rebuffed, denied and walked away from any other man. Jesse is another story entirely, though. I’m addicted to him, and I’m not sure it’s healthy.

‘Ava?’

I’m dragged from my brief thoughts by a very familiar voice. It’s also a most unwelcome voice. I swivel on my tight, silk clad butt.

‘Hi, Matt.’ I sound way more pleased to see him than I actually am.

‘Shit, Ava. You look great.’ He runs his smutty eyes up and down my body, making me feel highly uncomfortable and conspicuous. How does he make my skin crawl now? I loved him for four years. Or did I? What I felt for Matt seems to have paled into insignificance compared to how I’m feeling about a certain Mr Control Freak of an age that I still don’t know.

‘Thanks, how are you?’ I ask politely, taking in his shirt and black jeans. I hate those jeans, and the shirt looks cheap and nasty.

‘Really good, thanks. What have you been up to?’

Fucking. Lots of amazing fucking! ‘Not a lot. Working heaps, looking for a new place.’ I’m lying, of course. I’ve not even visited a letting agent. Matt doesn’t pick up on my hair being coiled around my finger. He never did pick up on my hair twiddling habit - a sign, maybe?

‘Is the job going well?’ He rests his elbows on the edge of the table, getting way too close to my personal space. My back straightens, pulling me away, and I pray for Kate’s quick return. He’ll soon scarper if Kate makes an appearance.

‘Yes, really good, thanks?’ I reply, while deliberating on asking him the same question. After he called and told me about the redundancies being made at his work place, I suppose I should, but I don’t want to get too tied up in conversation.