One Night On The Virgin's Terms - Melanie Milburne Page 0,21
people depending on me, clients and staff, and I’m committed to doing a good job of everything I take on.’ He took a sip of champagne, savouring the pear and honey notes.
‘Do you enjoy it?’
‘Of course I enjoy it.’ He put down his glass and glanced at his watch to see how much longer before the second half of the show. ‘It sure beats the hell out of being an accountant.’
‘Is that what your father wanted? For you to work in his accountancy firm?’
Louis was conscious of his jaw automatically tightening. ‘In my father’s mind, I let the family line down by pursuing architecture instead of accountancy like him and his father before him. The Charpentier accountancy firm will end with my father and for that he will never forgive me. Nor, I suspect, will my mother, mostly because she desperately wants grandchildren and I’m not interested in providing them.’
He picked up his champagne again and took another sip. That was another feeling he suppressed—the guilt he felt about his mother’s hopes and dreams being dashed by his decision.
Ivy’s small white teeth sank into the pillow-softness of her lower lip and her eyes lost their sparkle. ‘Oh, Louis, that’s terrible. You have to live your own life—fulfil your own dreams and aspirations instead of those of your parents’.’
‘Try telling them that.’ Louis gave a twisted smile and put his champagne glass down again before he spilled any more family secrets.
‘Maybe you’ll change your mind about having kids one day,’ Ivy said after a small silence. ‘Lots of men do. Even Ronan is considering having a child with Ricky via a surrogate. He’ll be a great dad, and so would you if you’d—’
‘I won’t change my mind.’
Just then the bell rang to announce the end of the interval and people started filing back into the theatre.
Louis was relieved the conversation was halted by the bell. He rarely spoke to anyone about his family. Not out of a sense of disloyalty to his parents but rather because it was nothing short of depressing to know how much of a disappointment he was to his family. The strange thing was, his grandfather had been exactly like his father—nit-picking, pedantic and overly critical of anyone who didn’t follow his orders to a T. Another good reason for Louis to resist the biological drive to procreate. The last thing the world needed was another difficult Charpentier.
Ivy left the theatre with Louis after the musical came to an end. She had enjoyed it immensely but found she could barely recall what’d happened in the second half because she’d been mulling over what Louis had told her about his family. And his adamant stance on never having children. Even though she knew it was none of her business what choices he made about his life, a part of her felt sad he would never experience the joys of parenthood, not to mention the satisfaction of a long-term relationship with a partner. He said he had never fallen in love, but she wondered if he would never allow himself to, closing off his emotions so he wasn’t made vulnerable by anyone. She, on the other hand, longed to be loved and supported by a lifelong partner, someone who wouldn’t reject her or give up his love for her the way her father had done so easily.
Louis led her to a wine bar that served cocktails and light meals, a short walk from the theatre. Their table was upstairs in an exclusive and private section that overlooked the bustling street below.
Ivy sat on the plush velvet wing-back chair opposite Louis and looked around the room with avid appreciation. ‘This is gorgeous. I’ve never been here before. I feel like royalty or a celebrity or something.’
‘A friend I went to university with owns it,’ Louis said, handing her the cocktail menu. ‘What would you like to drink?’
Ivy looked at the array of exotic cocktails. ‘Let me see, now... Gosh, so many to choose from. What do you recommend?’
‘How about a strawberry gin cocktail?’ He pointed to the one on the menu.
‘Sounds good. I love strawberries.’
His eyes flicked to her lips and one side of his mouth curved upwards. ‘I’ve developed rather a fancy for them myself lately.’
Something about his wry tone sent a light shiver over her skin.
Their drinks soon appeared, and soon after that a light tapas-style supper followed, with a host of flavoursome delicacies both savoury and sweet. Once she had eaten her fill, Ivy dabbed at the