Kit, on the other hand, was expansive in victory. ‘It was a useful exercise, Julian,’ he said, in the friendliest tone she had seen him use for his sponsor. ‘Even if we did only have a few days there in the end, it was worth it.’

‘Good! And the chalet? You liked it?’

‘The chalet was great,’ Kit nodded. ‘Thanks.’

Julian looked at Clover. ‘Did you like the water wall? I loved the way you could choose the colours. So much fun for dinners!’

Clover’s mouth opened in an aghast smile. She couldn’t tell him they hadn’t stayed there after all, without revealing why. They were supposed to have been there too. That had been the plan . . . But if she lied to him and pretended they had, then Ari would know she was lying. And he would wonder why.

She could feel Kit’s gaze upon her as he saw her difficulty.

‘You sure you don’t want some pink grapefruit with that, Julian?’ he interjected. ‘There’s some pink peppercorns too. They’re good.’

Julian looked down at his pale drink. ‘Yes. Why not?’

Clover watched, her heart banging wildly, as Kit cut a thin slice for his sponsor, Johnny and Matty both shooting her ‘WTF!’ looks. Kit was helping them out?

She turned away, trying to calm herself. The blood was rushing but she knew this was the moment to keep a steady head, for she had a sense she could still turn this loss into a win after all. She had unwittingly drawn him closer to what she wanted: now that he felt he had the upper hand, he might relax and drop his guard. He might not be able to stop her filming, but he had had a slew of little victories at her expense: this chess win, mercifully ‘saving’ her in front of his boss, taking that woman home in front of her and reinforcing that their encounter had been as meaningless as brushing his teeth . . . he was relaxed and pleased with himself, beating her at every turn.

Ari had got his wish. Kit Foley was all smiles – and she hadn’t even had to dance for it.

Chapter Twenty

‘A bit more to the right?’ Johnny murmured.

Matty moved the lighting softbox a few inches over.

‘Yeah, great.’ He looked up, squinting at the set. ‘Just straighten the chair . . . No, the other way . . . That’s it . . . Okay, I think we’ve got it.’

‘Are we good?’ Clover asked, coming over and looking through the screen herself. Her chair was positioned out of shot. The angle of the camera was off-centre so that her interviewee wouldn’t be seeing its great black eye looking straight back at him over her shoulder. ‘Okay.’

She straightened up and shook her shoulders out, running over her questions in her head. She had a crib sheet if she needed it but she preferred not breaking eye contact once the camera was rolling.