He smiles fondly. ‘It’s seven thirty.’

‘Jesse!’ I jump up and run into the bathroom. ‘Why didn’t you wake me when you went for a run?’ I flick the shower on and turn to the sink, loading my toothbrush with toothpaste.

‘I didn’t want to disturb you.’ He leans on the doorframe and watches me frantically scrubbing my teeth. He’s grinning, no doubt at my little fluster.

‘Never… bother… fore.’ I spit around my mouthful of paste.

His grin widens. ‘Pardon?’

I shake my head on an eye roll and return to the mirror, finishing up and rinsing out. ‘I said it never bothered you before. Why didn’t you drag me out of bed and punish me with fourteen miles?’ I’m suspicious, and you can tell.

He shrugs and joins me by the mirror, grabbing his own toothbrush. ‘I will if you want me to.’

‘No, just wondering.’ I won’t push it. I step in the shower and make a quick job of washing my hair and shaving before stepping out and practically running into the walk-in-wardrobe. I stand and stare at the rails and rails of clothes, mostly all with tags still attached. It feels like hard work trying to choose, there’s way too much, so I yank down my red shift dress. That’ll do.

By the time I’ve rough dried my hair, haphazardly slapped on my make-up, and landed downstairs, Jesse is suited up in navy with a crisp white shirt and collecting his car keys.

‘I’ll take you,’

‘Where’s Cathy?’ I eye him up. All of him. That’s my husband. Do I really need to go work?

He frowns a little. ‘I don’t know. It’s not like her to be late.’ Grabbing my hand, he starts leading me from the penthouse. ‘You got everything?’

‘I have,’

We make our way down to the foyer of Lusso and as we approach the concierge desk, I see Cathy leaning up, chatting with Clive. I grin and look up to Jesse, but he ignores me, even though he knows damn well I’m looking at him and probably what I’m thinking, too. ‘That would explain.’ I say on a little laugh.

‘They’re just talking.’ Jesse grumbles, leading on.

‘They look very friendly.’ I watch Cathy fidget and giggle as Clive entertains her with words and hand gestures. He looks just as enthralled as Jesse’s housekeeper.

She spots us. ‘Oh! I was just on my way up!’

‘No problem,’ Jesse doesn’t sound impressed, and he doesn’t stop. I, however, would love to hang around and see the developments. My grin widens as I pass, and Cathy and Clive both blush profusely. ‘I’m out of peanut butter.’ Jesse calls back crossly.

‘There’s a whole box of it in the cupboard, my boy. Do you think I’d let that run dry?’ Cathy sounds irritated by Jesse’s critical comment. It makes me laugh, especially when Jesse starts grumbling under his breath.

‘Don’t be so moody. They’re only talking.’ I rebuke him as we emerge into the sunshine and Jesse slips his wayfarer’s on.

‘It’s not right,’ He shudders and releases my hand.

I start rummaging through my bag for my own shades. ‘Ooh, she might be inviting him up when we’re not there. I did notice the sheets it the spare room were a little… ruffled.’

‘Ava!’ he yells as he points a screwed up face of displeasure to the heavens. ‘Don’t!’

I laugh. ‘Stop being ageist.’

‘I’m not,’ His disgusted face disappears immediately. He’s grinning now.

‘What are you smirking at?’ I ask.

He removes his shades and closes the distance between us, stooping down so our noses touch. ‘I bought you a present.’

‘You have?’ I rest my lips on his. ‘What?’

‘Turn around.’

I pull back and watch his delighted eyes as he nods over my shoulder. I slowly pivot and stand for a few moments, scanning the car park for whatever I should be looking for, but nothing is jumping out at me. His arm appears over my shoulder and a set of car keys are dangling in front of my face, and it’s then I spot a dirty great big, bright white, sparkly wheeled Range Rover Sport. Or tank—whichever.

Oh no!

I can’t even think of any words. How did I miss it? It’s blinding me now. I squint as the keys are jangled in front of me, like he doesn’t realise that I’ve clocked my present and he’s trying to hint further. No need. I can see it. And I hate it!

‘Over there,’ he prompts, jangling the keys again.

‘You mean that spaceship?’ I ask dryly. I’m not driving that thing, no matter how many countdowns or sense fucks I get as a consequence.

‘You don’t like it?’ He sounds hurt. Oh shit, what do I say?

‘I like my Mini.’

‘It’s not safe.’ Now he sounds affronted, as I knew he would. He makes his way around me and looks down at my shocked face. ‘This is safer.’

I can’t help the incredulous look my face is naturally morphing into. ‘Jesse, that’s a man’s car—a John car. It’s fucking huge!’

‘Ava! Watch your fucking mouth!’ He scowls at me. ‘I got it in white. That’s a lady’s colour. Come on, I’ll show you.’ He takes my reluctant shoulders and leads me over to the giant snowball. The closer I get, the more I hate it. It’s far too showy. I love my Mini. ‘Look,’ He opens the door… and I gasp.

It gets worse.

White… everywhere. White leather steering wheel; white leather gearstick; white leather seats. Even the carpets are white.

I look up at him, my deluded husband, and shake my head, but I can’t be ungrateful. He looks so pleased with himself. I thought this man had taste. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ I really don’t. ‘You could’ve just bought me a watch or a necklace or something.’ I wish he’d have bought me a watch or necklace or something.

‘Jump in.’ He ushers me towards the thing.

I gasp. Oh no! Stitched in the headrest of the front seat is Mrs Ward.

Now that’s going too far. ‘I am not driving this!’ I blurt, before my brain filters the insulting declaration.

‘You fucking are!’

Well, that just got rid of any guilt I had, and now my heels are firmly digging in. ‘I am not! Jesse, it’s way too big for me!’

‘It’s safe.’ He picks me up and places me on the driver’s seat. I feel small. ‘Look,’ Reaching in, he presses a button and a compartment pops open, revealing a computer screen. ‘Everything you’ll need. I’ve loaded all of your favourite music.’ He grins, pressing a button and Massive Attack seeps through all of the millions of speakers. ‘You can think of me.’

‘I think of you every time you call and I hear that track.’ I jump out. ‘I want your car. You can have this.’ I signal to the gleaming heap of metal.

‘Me?’ A worried looks passes over his face. ‘But it’s a bit…’ He runs his eyes over my present. ‘… girly.’

‘It is, and I know your game, Ward.’ I look inside and my mind conjures up images of baby seats and child booster seats. And a pram in the boot. Oh no! I point my finger at his chest. ‘The only reason you want me to drive this thing is because it’s enormous and there’s less chance of injury if I crash. Prettying it up isn’t going to convince me.’ I turn and storm off towards my lovely little mini, in which there is no chance of squeezing a pram in the boot.