Jill Mansell - Chapter 1

‘Why would I call them back? I don’t want to rent the flat out.’

No? Well, you know, I thought I’d take their number anyway, I’m sure it’s here somewhere.’

Bloody buggering hell, this was the last time she ever tidied anything up. ‘Let me just check in the kitchen bin.’

‘Leave it.’ Gabe waved her away from the kitchen door. ‘Don’t bother. If I want to speak to a lettings agent I’ll look in the Yellow Pages.’

‘OK’ She’d definitely thrown the letter out. And now she’d lied to him too, but he’d been so arsey he deserved it. Feeling guilty – but not guilty enough to confess – Sally picked up her holdall and headed for the door. ‘Bye.’

Gabe was bent over his laptop, scrolling through the day’s photographs. He muttered ‘Bye,’

without looking up.

Bastard. He hadn’t even wished her luck for her first day back at work tomorrow.

Reaching for her stick and limping more heavily than she needed to, Sally clumped out.

Gabe let out a groan and sat back on the sofa. He hadn’t even wished her good luck for tomorrow. The last ten days had been a journey to hell and back. All he could ever think about was Sally and, clearly, all Sally could think about was Nick James. Equally clearly, Nick must have passed some comment about the mess she surrounded herself with, prompting this afternoon’s out-of-the-blue blitz on the flat.

Gabe rubbed his face then ran his hands over his messed-up hair in defeat. And what had that business with the phone call from the lettings agent been about? Was that Sally’s way of dropping a hint, subliminally indicating that before long she’d be gone? Shit, and to think that for the first few weeks of her being here he’d wanted her out.

The phone rang.

‘Hi, it’s me.’ Lola, finishing up at Kingsley’s, sounded in a flap. ‘Just to let you know I’m going over to EJ’s so I won’t be home till late. But if anyone feels like cooking anything and saving some for me, they could leave it in my fridge for when I get back.’

‘Sorry. I’m working and Sally’s already gone out,’ Gabe said evenly. ‘She didn’t say where.’

There was a moment’s silence, then Lola said, ‘Oh, that’s right, her boss invited her over for dinner. She mentioned it yesterday’

Hmm, lying to her friend, covering her tracks. Gabe wondered how Lola would react if she knew who Sally was really with.

‘She took an overnight bag.’ Jealousy welled up; it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her.

‘Really? Well, it’s probably easier for work. No need to sound so disapproving.’ Lola sounded amused. ‘I’m sure Sal’s not having an affair with him. He’s a bit old for her.’

Gabe took a deep breath. Should he say it?

‘Anyway, wish me luck,’ Lola babbled on. ‘My stomach’s churning like an ice-cream maker.

I’m finishing with EJ tonight. God, I hope he takes it well, I don’t want him to be upset.’

That was it, Gabe realised he couldn’t do it. If he told Lola now, she was the one who’d be upset.

She had enough on her plate for one evening; let her get the EJ thing dealt with and out of the way first.

Chapter 47

It was like being on a really strict diet and having someone present you with a year’s supply of Thornton’s truffles. Lola had never actually been on a really strict diet owing to her inability to give up ... well, Thornton’s truffles, but she just knew this was how it would feel.Toby Rowe was a multimillionaire music mogul and an old friend of EJ’s. It had been thrilling enough being invited along to his fortieth birthday party, held at the kind of private members club Lola had only ever dreamed of visiting, but now Toby was offering something more.

Life just wasn’t fair.

‘Come on.’ Toby’s tone was cajoling. ‘It’s only for a week. You can take a week off work, can’t you? EJ, work your magic on this girl, make her say yes.’

There were people in this room so famous they’d make your head spin, and rumours swirling around that Bono was going to be dropping in later. If that happened, Lola knew her head would swivel right off.

‘Say yes,’ EJ joined in. ‘It’ll be fantastic. If I can take a week off, surely you can too.’

Toby already had a party of ten friends flying out in the firstweek of April to stay at his villa on St Kitts. Evidently it was large enough to accommodate two more. From the sound of things it could hold another twenty. And the people joining Toby and his girlfriend were all major players in the music business. Lola would be practically the only civilian. Just the thought of sunbathing around the pool in the company of singers with triple platinum albums to their names was almost too exciting to bear.

‘Go on,’ Toby added with a persuasive wink, ‘you know you want to.’

Lola bit her lip; of course she wanted to, more than anything. Imagine Robbie Williams asking if she’d mind rubbing suncream into his shoulders .. .

Oh God, this was torture. ‘I have to check the staff rota. I’m not sure if I can take the time off.’

‘Couldn’t you just phone in at the last minute,’ said Toby, ‘and tell the boss you’ve got flu?’

Wouldn’t that be nice?

‘Except I am the boss.’ Lola pulled a face. ‘And I wouldn’t believe me. I’m always suspicious when people phone in with a croaky voice and tell me they have flu.’

Toby said, ‘Or when they ring in with a croaky voice to tell you they’ve sprained an ankle.’

‘What I really hate,’ said EJ, ‘is when we’re recording an album and they phone up with a croaky voice to tell me they’ve got a croaky voice.’

Lola’s heart sank as he grinned his quirky, lopsided grin. He was such good company, the kind of person anyone would love to have as a friend. And he had buckets of money ... why, why couldn’t she look at him and feel a frisson of lust?

But there you go, she couldn’t and that was that. She wasn’t being fair to him. Checking her watch, Lola saw that it was midnight and she had to be at work by eight tomorrow morning. It was time to do what she had to do. She touched EJ’s arm and said, ‘I need to get home. If you want to stay on, I can get a cab.’

But EJ was far too much of a gentleman to do that. He shook his head and put down his orange juice. ‘It’s OK. I’m pretty shattered too.’

They said their goodbyes to Toby and his friends. As EJ drove back to Notting Hill, he told her more about Toby’s villa on St Kitts, about the view over Half Moon Bay, the golf course, the scuba diving, the spectacular Black Rocks

‘I’m sorry,’ Lola blurted out, ‘I can’t go.’

‘Don’t say that. You haven’t checked with work yet.’

Her fingernails dug into her palms as she squeezed her fists tight. ‘It’s not work.’

‘No?’ EJ pulled up at traffic lights, glanced sideways at her. ‘Is it the plane tickets? Because that’s not a problem. I’ll pay for those.’

The lights from the Burger King opposite were reflecting off his glasses. He was such a thoughtful person. Mental images of Half Moon Bay floated tantalisingly in front of Lola —

tropical palms, a glittering turquoise ocean, herself tanned and magically thinner than usual in a pink bikini .. .

‘OK, here’s the thing.’ Gearing herself up, Lola wished he could be driving the battered old Fiesta tonight; she didn’t want to be responsible for him pranging his beloved Lamborghini. ‘EJ, I really like you but we’re going to have to stop seeing each other.’ The lights changed and they moved forward; flinching and praying he wouldn’t go careering into the bus ahead of them, she said hastily, ‘But you’re a fantastic person.’

EJ remained in control of the Lamborghini. Drily he said, ‘But not quite fantastic enough.’