Page 96 of Always Alchemy

‘It’s glorious,’ he says, his eyes running over my bikini-clad body. He holds his arms out wide. ‘Come on in, French. What are you waiting for?’

It’s a shiny new year.

A gorgeous, sweet man is mostly naked in this stunning pool, and he wants to warm me up.

Nothing.

I’m waiting fornothing.

I give him my best smile, and I jump.

AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

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33

AUDACITY PREVIEW

ATHENA

When Anton Wolff’s name lights up on your phone’s display, you don’t turn it down.

For a variety of reasons.

I pause the documentary I’m watching—Winter on Fire, about an uprising in Ukraine a decade ago. It’s compelling and confronting in equal measure. Mr Wolff is guaranteed to provide some light relief.

‘Anton. Hello.’

‘Hello, Athena. How’s tricks?’

I can hear the smile in his voice as he drawls my name, and I swear to God my entire body breaks out in goosebumps. I’m a dog whose owner is clanging a bell and offering me a tasty chicken treat.

‘Still turning them.’ I set down the remote and sit up straighter, shifting in my cashmere cocoon. The sofa is a nest of Loro Piana blankets and throw pillows, all presents from Steve Goodall—the man I currently work for—who is a thoughtful and generous gift giver.

He chuckles. ‘That’s my girl.’

I would like to clarify at this point that I was never actually in love with Anton while I worked for him—not entirely, anyway. He was merely my billionaire boss who, at more than twice my age, commanded me and used me and consumed me, rendering my seven-figure salary thesecond bestthing about working for him.

Not something I can say about my current boss.

Alas, that’s not to say Anton can’t have my nipples hardening with a phrase likethat’s my girl, because the things I used to do—willingly—to earn that phrase in that particularly filthy, intimate tone aren’t easily forgotten.

‘How’s monogamy?’ I ask. It still smarts that he kicked me out as soon as his now-wife, Genevieve, rolled over for him. One Wednesday, he sidled off to Cannes with her and his number two, Max, for a recce of her sex club, the one he was investing in, and by the following Monday morning he was grinning and sun-kissed and telling me, kindly but firmly, that our gig was over.

It made for a hell of a nightmare trying to pass things over remotely to his new EA, that’s for sure. And, while it’s the nature of the job, it can sting.

‘Bloody amazing,’ he says in that cheerful, larger than life voice of his, and I know that this particular instance ofthat’s my girlis a figure of speech and nothing more.

I have to admire his total commitment to this relationship. Genevieve may be his fourth wife, but this one is here to stay. That fact was clear to me as soon as I laid eyes on her. As soon as he lured her into his office and got Max and another colleague to rail her while he let me get him off, I knew that man’s heart was toast.

Along with my job.

‘Glad to hear it.’ I clear my throat. ‘What can I do for you, Anton?’

‘I have a potential position for you,’ he says, and I roll my eyes.

‘I have a position, thank you. And I don’t need a pimp.’

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