by Jules Wake
‘Do you know those tights are like blinking gold dust? Huh, stockings – she’s just being a cow,’ she moaned.
‘Never mind,’ I said soothingly. I wasn’t going to give Miranda’s secrets away, instead I said, ‘We’ll get her some stockings.’
‘Five denier! I don’t think so. Selfridges is the only place near here that might have them.’ She looked at her watch. ‘There’s no way I’ve got time to go there, get Miranda into her dress and do the finishing touches.’
‘I’ll go. Don’t worry. She’ll be fine,’ I said confidently.
Nikki looked dubious. ‘She won’t pull out, will she? That’s happened to me before.’ She named a well-known soap matriarch whose reputation was cast iron salt of the earth. ‘Old bat was made up and halfway through the hotel’s brandy when she announced that she wouldn’t wear the outfit the sponsors of the show had chosen.’
‘God, what did you do?’ I said, wondering what the hell I’d do if Miranda did that to me. Physical violence would probably be the answer.
‘Nothing I could do. She’d made up her mind. Did it out of spite – the producers were in the process of writing her out.’
‘I think we’ll be all right. It is the Bond premiere and if all else fails; I’ve got Gerry Finberg up my sleeve.’
‘What? Is he going to be there tonight?’ Nikki looked impressed.
Mr Finberg, a British film director, was going great guns in Hollywood with three mega-grossing blockbusters under his belt. The likes of Miranda would kill to meet him. I looked down at my feet for a second and then up. ‘Hypothetically. He might be.’ I gave Nikki a conspiratorial grin. She laughed.
‘Nice one.’
We agreed that I would go in search of stockings, as fine as I could find. There was just over an hour and a half before we had to leave the hotel. Slipping out of the room, I raced silently down the corridor back to the lift.
Chapter Eleven
I dived out of the hotel entrance to grab the first available cab.
Talk about tizz. I’d never have time to wash my hair, dry it and get made up. It was no good, I was going to have jump the taxi queue. Naughtily I barged in front of an elderly American couple explaining that I was in a terrible hurry. It was an emergency after all.
‘And which hospital will that be, love? Chelsea and Westminster, Queen Charlotte’s or St Pinocchio’s?’ asked the cabby, winking at me through the open window.
Obviously the ‘sister-in-labour’ fib only worked with gullible tourists.
‘Sorry.’ I grinned unapologetically. ‘It really is an emergency. If I don’t get back within the next fifteen minutes bearing the finest pair of stockings known to man, my life won’t be worth living and I’ll have to go to the ball looking like the fairy godmother abandoned me.’ I gave him an expurgated version of the tale.
The minute he heard Miranda’s name, he put his foot down. I wasn’t sure if it was a Pavlovian response to her name or a desire to help.
‘Now, there’s a madam. We’ve had ’er in the back. Tried to tell us we were overcharging. Said we were going the long way round. Refused to pay the full fare. Can you believe it? Bet she earns a fortune ’an all. Don’t you worry, love, we’ll get you sorted.’ I was slightly confused by the ‘we’. Were cabs and drivers twosomes?
He swung round in a violent U-turn and I clung onto the strap in the back as the cab sped along. May be the ‘we’ referred to him and his alter ego, Stirling Moss. In seconds we’d gone from nought to hair-raising and were speeding down rat runs to Selfridges.
Running into the store, I weaved in and out of busy shoppers like a mad Artful Dodger. When I reached the haberdashery department, I accosted a bemused shop assistant, one of those supercilious ones who are groomed to within an inch of their lives.
‘Help, I need some stockings – five denier. They’re for Miranda Baker for the James Bond film premiere tonight. She’s getting ready in her suite now. I’ve got to be back in ten minutes and if I don’t get it right, she says she won’t turn up.’
‘Don’t worry, love. Got just the thing.’
She marched off purposefully and I followed her up to the next floor, down one aisle and another into the lingerie section. The prices I glimpsed on the tags made me wince. How could so little cost so much?
‘What you want are hold-ups.’
‘Honest?’ I looked unsure. ‘I used to wear those when I was sixteen, and even on my stick-insect legs they left bright red marks and cut off the circulation.’
‘The Lycra’s very forgiving nowadays. These are the ones you need.’ She leaned closer and quietly said, ‘We keep this make specially. No one’s ever heard of them – just tell her they were imported for Madonna. Works every time.’
‘You’ve done this before then?’ I asked her, grinning.
She winked at me. ‘This is our best-selling line, love. Just tell her to keep schtum, as Madonna doesn’t know the order’s arrived yet.’
Thrusting a twenty pound note at the cabbie who had waited for me, with a ‘keep the change’, I hurtled out of the cab, crossing the foyer at sprint speed. Just as I was about to get into the lift, my mobile rang. Smiling apologetically at a very gorgeous man in a beautifully cut suit, I stepped back out of the lift to take the call.
It was Kate.
‘This had better be good. I’ve just missed sharing a lift with Mr Drop-Dead-Delicious to answer this.’
‘More fool you then. I thought you were meeting up with James Bond tonight,’ said Kate crisply.
‘In my dreams. I’m working. I doubt I’ll get very near him.’
‘Work?’ she sniffed. ‘You call that work. Huh. I don’t think so. You try working with white-van-man. I really earned every penny. You bloody get paid for swanning about.’
‘You’re kidding—’
‘Dressing up and going to a mega-star party – break out in a sweat, do you? Real work is when the phone never stops ringing, the paperwork is piling up and you’re ten deep in plumbers wanting U-bends and copper piping.’
‘They all loved you. It can’t have been so bad, you certainly lasted longer there tha—’
‘Lasted? Thanks a bunch.’
Oops, I had touched a raw nerve. I pressed the lift button and looked at my watch anxiously. Time was running out, only fifty minutes for me to get ready.
‘I didn’t mean that. You know Bill raved about how good you were. Said you had all those plumbers eating out of your hand and they were getting tons more work because you were designing the bathrooms for them.’
‘But it’s hardly a job to shout about is it?’ There was an unexpected trace of self-pity in her voice. ‘Selling a bath waste to a plumber who once worked in a house owned by the Prime Minister doesn’t quite compare with going to a James Bond premiere.’
‘Honestly, Kate, it isn’t glamorous at all. Miranda is a pain to deal with, you don’t—’
But Kate didn’t want to know. ‘Any chance you could smuggle me in? I came up for lunch today, so I thought I’d hang around and see if I spot you coming down the old red carpet. What time does it all start? Couldn’t you slip me in the back entrance?’
‘No. Fort Knox has nothing on this.’ The lift was back but the plaintive note in her voice made me loathe to hurry her off.
‘Sure?’ she pleaded.
‘Sure.’
‘Worth a try. So what time will you be there? At least I can take a pic of my “glam” sister.’
‘Officially the premiere starts at eight p.m., but we have to be on the red carpet at seven ten precisely.’
‘Precisely, eh?’ mimicked Kate. ‘Look out for me. Give me a wave. In fact, come over and say hello. Everyone will think you’re famous and I can tell them all I’m your more successful sister.’
I laughed. ‘Go on then.’
‘What are you wearing?’
Oh bugger, I didn’t want to tell her.
‘Your … pale blue silk shift dress.’
‘Great! My clothes are having a better time than I am. At least you aren’t wearing my Armani. That really would have been rubbing it in.’
‘Sorry, Kate,’ I said wincing. ‘You did leave them with me. The blue is the only one that hides the dressing on my arm.’ Again I looked at my watch. I was running out of time to get changed.
‘You’ll look gorgeous in that,’ she conceded. ‘More your colour than mine. Have a great time. I’ll be watching.’
Feeling relieved that she’d finally hung up, I tucked my phone back into my bag. Nice that I’d have one fan in the crowd. Damn, I looked at my watch yet again. Forty-five minutes. I still had to get myself dolled-up. Of course now there was no sign of a lift. Worried about time, I decided to take the stairs and according to the light above my head, the lift was still on floor six. The best thing would be to go straight to my room and hand over the stockings to Emily to take to Miranda.
For a horrible moment I thought it was Daniel coming towards me as I rounded the corner of the corridor to my room.
‘Sebastian,’ I greeted him.
‘Livvy, love,’ drawled Sebastian, swooping in to give me a kiss and a big hug. ‘Long time no see.’
‘Sorry,’ I said stepping back. ‘I’m a bit … hot.’ Understatement of the century but there was no way I was going to add ‘sweaty’ to this vision in a black tuxedo, who at that moment could have out-Bonded Bond himself.
He gave me a mischievous knowing grin. He looked so like Daniel, but that was where the resemblance ended.
‘Think you need a nice, cool shower.’ Those eyebrows danced again, the inference clear. ‘What’s got you all hot and bothered?’ His voice dropped a tone. Flirting came as naturally to him as breathing.
‘Last minute aerobics class,’ I said acidly. ‘I’ve just run up the stairs.’
He tutted and shook his head. ‘I can think of much better exercise.’ He gave me a naughty wink.
‘Sebastian, you don’t get any better.’ I laughed at him. ‘You’d best behave with Miranda! Have you met her yet? She’ll eat you for breakfast.’
With great exaggeration, Sebastian widened his eyes. ‘You think so?’
‘Probably not.’ I sighed. Had this been such a good idea?
‘I’m just on my way up to the suite to meet her.’
‘OK. You go on up and be good!’
He playfully tugged at one of my curls. ‘Don’t worry. Duty calls. I promise to behave. Anyway, Daniel’s already given me strict instructions not to let you down.’
‘Did he?’ I was startled for a second and then realised Sebastian probably meant ‘you’ as in the general universe rather than me specifically.
‘Yup. Big brother is watching me.’ He mimicked Daniel’s voice. ‘Don’t screw about tonight. Olivia’s worked her socks off for this. Which reminds me.’ He sauntered over to the lift and pressed the button. ‘First rule of the professional. Punctuality. Must be off.’
The bloody doors opened immediately, he stepped inside and they slid closed on him blowing extravagant kisses.
Shaking my head, smiling, I set off down the corridor. There was something infectious about Sebastian. He’d have Miranda tamed within minutes.
‘Cutting it fine, aren’t you?’ said Emily, as I proudly presented the tissue package to her, the distinctive yellow Selfridges bag stuffed out of sight in my coat pocket.
‘Just tell Miranda that these were on special order for Madonna and we managed to swipe one pair before she collects them tomorrow,’ I panted.
Emily looked impressed. ‘Wow, Olivia.’
I wasn’t going to tell her the whole truth, not when Daniel was standing behind her looking impressed by my efficiency.
‘Some of us have been working!’ I snapped as I took in her beautifully applied make-up, artfully piled-up hair and shiny nails, forgetting that I’d sent her to get ready.
‘Finding it tough being the boss?’ asked Daniel appearing from behind Emily, one eyebrow raised in amusement.
My heart lifted and sank at the same time. What was he doing here? Didn’t I have enough to contend with?
Chapter Twelve
Is it possible to register dismay and delight on your face at the same time? My cheeks must have looked as if they were practising for rigor mortis. Daniel was the last person I expected or, in my frazzled state, wanted to see. There he was standing beside Emily, next to who I looked like a bag lady.
‘Daniel,’ I said in a strangled voice. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here?’
‘Chief chauffeur,’ he said, with a teasing raise of his brows. ‘There was a problem with the trains so I drove Sebastian up. Otherwise you’d be without his services this evening. Thought I could nip out for a quick burger and catch some football on Sky somewhere while he was working and then take him home.’
My heart did that annoying little lift, which my head slapped down quickly as Emily laid a proprietary hand on his arm.
‘Hope you won’t be bored, as we’ll all be at the premiere,’ she said, flirtatious as ever and then turning to me said officiously, ‘I’ve sent Sebastian up to see Miranda and introduce himself.’
‘Don’t you think you should have gone up with him?’ I asked, a little bit miffed. It was all very well for her to be entertaining Daniel in our hotel room, but she seemed to have forgotten that she was here to work and that I might want to get ready.
‘I’m on the way, bossy,’ said Emily, smiling at Daniel and adding, ‘She does fuss so.’
I gritted my teeth. The cow. She was making me look like some power-hungry bitch. I was fuming but didn’t want to lose it in front of Daniel. He really would think I was an old harpy.
Trying to sound sweet and reasonable, when I all wanted to do was scream at her, I managed, ‘Give her the blessed stockings and just generally make sure she’s happy.’
I was going to have to leave it at that. Tonight was a big deal for the company, the Luscious Lips account was worth a lot of money and we couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong. Sadly, I really didn’t trust Emily.
‘Make sure she’s on target for our departure time. No last minute panics or tantrums. We must leave at quarter to seven to allow for the traffic and be ready at the carpet point no later than seven ten.’
‘Yeah, yeah. I know, if we miss our slot blah, blah, blah.’
I wasn’t being anal. Didn’t she realise these premieres were run with precision timing? The schedule was everything. Air traffic control had nothing on this. Arrival slots were allocated according to celebrity ranking – if you missed yours you could kiss goodbye to the red carpet. You’d have to circle around the block for an hour before being allowed to arrive at the tradesman’s entrance alongside the set designer’s mother.
I glared at her. ‘Some of us need to get ready,’ I snarled, grabbing my make-up bag and pushing past Daniel into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
Inside I glared at myself in the mirror. My hair was doing a Medusa impression and after my mad dash across town I was looking very hot and bothered. I wanted to bash my head against the door. Bugger, bugger, bugger. Just once it would have been nice for me to look glamorous. There wasn’t even time to take a bath, so I stripped off and took a quick shower. The minute I stepped out I realised I’d left my underwear in the room.
It never occurred to me that anyone would still be in there. Thank God I’d wrapped myself in a bath towel.
I let out a surprised shriek. Talk about heaven and hell. Daniel looked up. Lounging on the bed reading the paper, he’d made himself completely at home, discarded tie flung on the chair, shirt open at the neck and suit jacket hanging on the back of the d
oor.
‘Want me to scrub your …’ His grin dimmed as he registered my half-dressed state.
‘What are you still doing here?’ I snapped.
‘My we’re a bit snitty this evening. Not what it’s cracked up to be, being the boss? Or are you expecting someone else?’ he asked, the smile gone. What was it with him and his someone elses?
‘I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be here. And don’t call me “the boss”. I’m just doing my job.’
‘Not letting it go to your head?’ he asked, one eyebrow quirking. It wasn’t said in a joking tone, so I knew a little bird had been whispering in his ear.
‘No,’ I retorted just a bit too defensively. ‘Surely you know me well enough. Do you really think that running around after celebrities, sorting out designer dresses is my thing? There are days when I long for my wellies and hard hat. I even miss Jabba.’
‘Who?’
‘It’s a long story,’ I said, shaking my head.
‘I’m not going anywhere for a while,’ he looked sympathetic for a second.
‘Aren’t you?’ I said with dismay.
‘It’s all right, I’ll turn my back if you want. I told you I’m Sebastian’s chaperone. Emily said you’d got the room for the evening and that I could wait here until you leave and then I’ll snag a lift and go watch with the crowds.’
Did she now? Great – so now I had to get ready in a bathroom the size of a rabbit hutch and hide in there until I could take my Carmen rollers out. Not a look I wanted to parade in front of Daniel, although at the moment his eyes did seem quite fascinated by my legs.
I sidled past him, clutching the towel and rifled one handed in my overnight bag. A sensible person would have stopped and opened it properly instead of trying to retrieve everything through the half-fastened zip.
But I wasn’t thinking straight. Of course I managed to knock the bag on the floor, which meant struggling to hang on to my towel, as I bent down demurely so as not to flash my bottom at Daniel. Sneaking a peep at him, I caught him trying to hide his amusement.
