Ellie has just embarrassed herself in front of Jack in the coffee shop where she buys her lunch, and now they are 'enjoying' a walk to the agency together...

 

From Chapter 2   

   Out in the street, Ellie and Jack walked along in silence, with Ellie first keeping pace with Jack's strides and then making a definite decision not to. There was no way she was going to look like one of his skipping groupies. She started to walk as slowly as her long legs would allow, which meant that every now and again he had to stop and wait for her to catch up with him. The last time he did it, she said quickly, 'You don't have to wait for me Mr Wolfe. I know my way.'
      'I've told you before, Ellie,' Jack said, starting to walk again, 'you don't have to keep calling me "Mr Wolfe."  If you do, I'm going to have to call you "Miss Somerset".'  
    'I'm sorry. It's just that "Mr Wolfe" has so much more comedy potential. You know, "What's the time, Mr Wolfe?", "What are you having for lunch, Mr Wolfe?"' 
   "Eaten any of the pigs in suits yet, Mr Wolfe?"' 
   Now that was a surprise. She grudgingly gave him points for his sense of humour. Or perhaps he wasn't joking. She could well imagine that Jack was a man perfectly capable of biting an account executive.
   'OK,' Jack said with a wry smile, '"Miss Somerset" it is, then.' 
   A few more yards and they were at the agency. Ellie's gaze was drawn to the new nameplate that had been fixed to the wall when Jack had bought into the company. 'Wiseman & Craster' was now 'Wiseman, Craster & Wolfe.' 
    Payback time Mr High and Mighty.
   'Sorry it couldn't have been "Wolfe, Wiseman & Craster",' she said, not sounding at all sorry. 'It would have read so much better.' 
   Jack reached for the door handle and gave her a side-long glance that quite suddenly made the image of a wolf licking its lips slither into her mind.
   'Oh, I don't think it matters really,' he said, pulling open the door. 'I don't mind if I'm in front or behind. Any position's fine by me.' 
   Ellie wasn't quite sure she had heard him correctly, and if she had, whether he was still simply talking about the nameplate...

 

Ellie has just pitched her idea for the singing knickers to Jack and returned home to find her Great Aunt Edith sitting on her doorstep. They're eating supper...

 

From Chapter 4

   Edith reached for another sandwich and hummed merrily away while eating it. So much energy. For as long as Ellie could remember, Edith had lied about her age and had recently taken to telling people she was in her mid seventies, whereas Ellie was sure she was nearly eighty. Edith worked diligently to put people off the scent by dressing in what her affronted daughters called an 'age inappropriate manner'. Where hair and make-up were concerned, Edith believed you could never have too much of a good thing. Tonight, in addition to the pink Lurex and tweed ensemble, she was modelling red wedge sandals, gold hoop earrings and her trademark peroxide 'helmet hair.' 
   Edith stopped mid-bite, 'Oh, the knickers, I forgot to ask... Yes or no?' 
   'Oh, a big yes. A big thumbs-up from the Wolfman.' 
   Edith clapped her hands, scattering bits of sandwich all over herself. 'I am so pleased, darling. Clever you and clever Lesley. You were always a bright little thing and you've grown up to be a bright big thing too.' 
   'You make me sound like a fluorescent elephant.' 
   'Now stop it, Ellie. You can't fool me with that jokey thing. You're embarrassed at being paid a compliment. You never could take them. You know exactly what I meant - lovely on the outside, clever on the inside.' Edith raised her teacup in a toast. 'Here's to you.' 
   They chinked teacups, Edith sloshing a lot of tea over her hand.
   'It was a bit hairy, though, Edith presenting the idea. Jack wasn't very nice to the other two teams.'
   'Well, I don't suppose they pay him to be nice. I expect he can be quite a scary prospect with all that height and those dark, brooding looks.' Edith gave a little shiver.
   'Tall with dark looks? I don't think so, Edith. He's tiny with a bald head and wears thick, thick glasses.' Ellie laughed a little at her own joke.
   'Oh, I'd presumed with a name like that he'd be a bit more imposing. A bit of a knickers-flutterer.' Edith looked disappointed. 'I'd imagined he was the kind of man who could walk past you and make you want to rip his clothes off, closely followed by your own.' She grabbed another sandwich. 'Well that's a blow. I was picturing some Heathcliff-type figure and you've given me Mr Magoo. Most, most ... underwhelming.' 
   Ellie was tempted to put Edith right, but she resisted. It was comforting to know that in one person's mind at least, Jack was not Heathcliff.