“Come on,” I say softly. “Let’s go and find Orson and Scarlett. You’ll like her—she was in a similar position to you. She was brought up in the Kahukura commune.”
Her eyebrows rise as we cross the courtyard to the restaurant door. “Oh, I didn’t realize that.”
“Yeah, so she wasn’t used to the lifestyle either. She’s had to make a lot of adjustments. It’s why she suggested the two of them join us tonight. She thought it might make it easier for you.”
She doesn’t get a chance to reply, because we’re approaching the door. I lead her past the waiting queue of people to the guy in a suit standing at the front.
“Mr. Davis,” the head waiter says with a smile, “nice to see you again.”
“And you, Marc. I think Orson’s already here?”
“Yes, follow me please, sir.” He leads the way inside.
I glance at the photographer standing under the large oak tree that arches over the center of the courtyard. He’s lifted his camera and is watching us through the lens. Chessie hasn’t seen him, but I look straight at the lens and give a small smile, knowing he’ll have captured me holding her hand.
We enter the restaurant, and the head waiter leads the way through the tables, which are nearly all full. I can already see Orson and Scarlett seated at one of the best tables, situated in the corner of the restaurant so it has views over both the courtyard and the waterfront. It’s a little quieter here, too, which I think Chessie will like.
Heads turn as we pass, and I nod at a couple of people I recognize, and stop briefly to greet a friend from a rival property development firm. I continue to hold Chessie’s hand while we exchange pleasantries, which I know that nobody at his table misses.
“Aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” the woman next to him asks with a smile.
“Oh of course… Chess, this is Ricky Turner, his wife, Emma, Darren Cunningham, and his wife, Fiona. Guys, this is Francesca Ross.”
They all say hello. She smiles back, but oh God, she’s actually trembling. I hadn’t considered how nervous she’d be.
I slide an arm around her waist. This is the first test of how she’s going to react in social situations. If she goes to pieces, we might as well call it a day now.
“E ipo,” I say easily, “you remember me telling you about the Bay of Islands tour I took last year? That was on Ricky and Emma’s yacht.”
I wait for her to mumble, look embarrassed, or just not be able to think of anything to say at all.
But as my thumb strokes her waist, she turns and rests a hand on my chest in a familiar way and says to them, “Oh of course, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so nice to finally put faces to the names.” She speaks clearly, without a waver in her voice, and the others smile. Good girl, I think.
“How’s the food?” I ask.
“Excellent,” Emma says. “You absolutely have to try the oysters, Francesca… the mignonette dressing is to die for.”
Chessie smiles. “I’ll have to trust you on recommendations. I’m more of a fish-and-chips girl myself.”
They chuckle, I excuse us, and we continue across the restaurant.
“I’m surprised you said that,” I murmur.
She shrugs. “You said it would make sense to others if you fell for a girl-next-door type. What was it you called me? Wholesome?” She gives me a wry look. “I’m happier just being me anyway.”
There’s no chance to reply because we’re approaching the table. Orson glances around, sees us, and stands.
“Hey,” he says, smiling. “Chessie! Long time no see.” He takes her outstretched hand in his, then moves forward and kisses her cheek before releasing her.
“Nice to see you again,” she says, her face flushing a little.
“Likewise. This is Scarlett.” He turns to the woman who has also risen to her feet.
“Hello.” Scarlett shakes her hand, “it’s lovely to meet you at last.”
“You too,” Chessie replies.
“Come and sit next to me.” Scarlett pats the chair beside her. “I remember how overwhelming it was the first time Orson brought me here. We can agonize over the menu together.”