The four of them snagged a table for eight, and Karl sent Chris a quick text inviting him to join them.

Lauren eyed the two unoccupied seats warily. “Please tell me that George and Nadine are not joining us,” she pleaded. “It’s going to be hard enough for me to eat in this dress. Having to sit across from those two might be what finally kills my appetite.”

“Uh, I don’t think you have to worry about that,” replied Karl hesitantly. “First, I see that the lovebirds are hanging with some of Nadine’s pals. And, yes, she does have some. And, well, I think our other tablemates might be heading this way right now with Chris.”

Lauren followed his gaze and almost choked on the bacon wrapped scallop she’d just popped into her mouth. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she muttered to herself, not much caring if anyone else heard her.

Walking alongside Chris and his new girlfriend - the one clinging to him like a limpet and who looked about sixteen – were none other than Ben and Elle. Lauren thought wildly that she’d rather sit at a table filled entirely with George and Nadine clones then have to endure an evening of Elle’s tight-lipped, disapproving little looks.

‘And doesn’t she look just perfect tonight?’ thought Lauren mockingly. ‘The perfect lady. The perfect corporate wife.’

She winced at that last thought, wishing she had time to grab and down a second drink before the two couples reached them. Elle was also wearing black but that was where the resemblance to Lauren’s gown ended. Elle’s dress was an slender, elegant column of black silk wool that skimmed rather than clung to her slender body. The high collar was banded with glittering black beads and jets, while the black satin waistband broke up the severity of the otherwise stark fabric. Her raven hair was smoothed back into its usual chignon, and a pair of diamond stud earrings was her only jewelry. As always her makeup was subdued and discreet, and Lauren suddenly felt an urge to grab a napkin and scrub away her vivid crimson lipstick.

But while Elle looked pretty much the way Lauren would have figured, it was Ben who caused her eyes to widen in mingled surprise and admiration. He was wearing a tux, for God’s sake – a classic black suit, snowy white pleated shirt, and plain black bowtie. He was clean shaven, and even though she preferred his three day stubble, her fingers itched to caress that smooth, rugged cheek.

Their gazes collided as he reached the table, and she stubbornly refused to be the first to look away. His gaze lingered for a few moments on her dress, hair, lips, and she recognized both admiration and desire in his dark blue eyes. She gave him a little half-smile and a quirk of her eyebrow, sending him a silent message that even though he looked hot she wasn’t a big fan of the tuxedo.

Elle was her typical prim and proper self, extending her hand to Tamsyn and then to Carlo as though she were a princess or something, her greeting almost excruciatingly polite. It was obvious that she had no idea who Carlo was, recognizing neither his name nor his face.

But Ben evidently did, telling Carlo as they shook hands, “I’m a big fan of your stuff. The Jack Cordero movies are some of my favorites.” To a puzzled Elle he explained, “Carlo is a very famous actor. He’s the star of four – or is it five – action adventure movies.”

“Ah.” Elle lifted that aristocratic little chin at this explanation. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize your name, Carlo. I’m not much of a moviegoer unfortunately. That is - at least not – well - ”

Carlo smiled politely in return, very likely having pegged Elle as the art house movie type and definitely not the sort to enjoy the films he typically acted in. “No worries, cara. I doubt you’d enjoy my movies. Lots of car chases, gunfights, explosions, that sort of thing. Lauren here is one of the few women I know who can’t get enough of action films. Or espionage. She should have been a spy herself. Or an assassin.”

“Oh, I like that idea!” agreed Lauren. “Like the girl in La Femme Nikita. One of my all time favorites. But the original French version, of course, not the American remake.”

Chris’s girlfriend – Mindy – wrinkled her nose. “Ugh! I don’t think I could watch a movie with subtitles. I want to focus on what’s happening in the movie and not have to read at the same time.”

Carlo gave Mindy a little wink, which only caused the impressionable young woman to gape at him in starstruck awe. “I don’t blame you, cara. But Lauren here doesn’t need subtitles. Why would she when she’s fluent in French, Italian, and Spanish?”

It seemed that Elle and Mindy were the only ones at the table who didn’t already know this information. Mindy just kept staring at Carlo, a few seconds away from melting into a full blown swoon, while Elle gave Lauren one of those tight-lipped little smiles she’d come to hate with a passion.

“I would have never guessed,” Elle replied archly. “I’ve studied French since I was a young girl. A foreign language was a requirement at my school, even from the early grades. Where did you pick up these different languages, Lauren?”

Lauren ignored the way Elle said “pick up”, almost as if to imply that she had picked up her language skills – and possibly other habits – from the street. Instead she merely smiled sweetly and explained, “I learned French from my grandparents, mother and aunt, who were all born in Montreal. The Italian I picked up from hanging around Carlo and Franco and their family, as well as from my uncle who lived in Italy for several years. And I studied Spanish in high school and college.”

She gave a little shrug, as though explaining how she came to be fluent in three languages was the simplest thing in the world. But even though she downplayed her skills, she sensed that Elle was displeased but she didn’t really care why.

She had wanted to give Chris a good hard smack for inviting Ben and Elle to sit at this table, and was frankly surprised that they had accepted. But to refuse would have likely required Elle to lie or be rude, two things Lauren sensed she never did. At least, thought Lauren as she picked up her wine glass, Carlo had seemed to sense her discomfiture with their tablemates and made sure they weren’t seated next to the other couple.

Lauren was unusually quiet as the evening wore on, and for once she ate sparingly. She blamed the tight fitting dress, plus the rather blandly prepared beef and vegetables, for her lack of appetite. But she knew it was mostly the sight of Elle and Ben together that was making her feel slightly nauseous – the way he smiled at her, the sight of her slim hand touching his sleeve, how he would bend his head to hers from time to time as she murmured something in a low voice. Lauren longed to pry those long, elegant fingers off of Ben’s arm, to pull all the pins out of Elle’s perfectly coiffed hair and pull it hard, to “accidentally” spill an entire glass of red wine on her classic black gown.

But she didn’t do any of those things, because she was just enough of a lady to mind her manners at an occasion like this. Instead, she seethed in silence as the meal dragged on, the anger and the irritation and the unwilling desire for Ben continuing to build and build until she felt like screaming.

‘You need to get laid, girl,’ she told herself. ‘That’s what your real problem is. You’re horny and Ben looks pretty damned hot in that stupid monkey suit. Maybe you should make Carlo an offer after all.’

But even as she considered sleeping with her “friend with benefits” one more time, she dismissed the idea as foolish. The last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize what had been a long standing friendship, not to mention have a bout of meaningless sex. She’d had her fill of the latter last month.

It had been the crew’s last evening in Spain, and she had been unusually morose and moody, knowing that she would be seeing Ben in a couple of days and feeling strangely reluctant to return to New York. Ever since that scene in his office in September, she had continued to have as little contact with him as possible, barely looking at or speaking to him during their team meetings. She knew the other guys had noticed her standoffishness towards their boss, but they had either been too wise or too scared to question her about it.