Andi said nothing. She didn’t think she would ever get over the fact that he’d lied to her. In her mind Jonty’s deceit was interwoven with Tom’s.
“You didn’t trust me,” was all she could say.
Jonty looked bleak. “If you’d been through what I’ve been through you’d find it hard to trust too. Jesus, you’ve met Jax. It crucified me when she left and it was a million times worse when she came back just because I was rich. But Andi, I was going to tell you about me; you have to believe that.”
Did she believe him? Andi wanted to but right at this minute the pain of being deceived, even by omission, was too much to bear.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he said. “I wanted to but it never seemed the right time and, stupid as it sounds, I was scared.”
“We all get scared,” Andi said bitterly. “But this is something else. I don’t know who you are, Jonty, and I don’t think I ever did. “
He looked at her long and hard. “Nothing I can say is going to change the way you feel about me now, is it?”
She shook her head. It was over before it had even begun. This was probably a good thing. At least he’d never hurt her again and she’d never face the pain of being abandoned when Jax next clicked her fingers or a stunning model type came along. It was probably for the best. Jonty was, and always had been, way out of her league.
“I don’t think so,” she whispered.
The fight seemed to seep from him.
“Fine,” said Jonty defeatedly. “You can’t handle the truth, I get it.”
“The truth I could handle; being lied to and made to look like an idiot I can’t,” she said softly. “Goodbye, Jonty. Enjoy the rest of the summer.”
With her shoulders back and her head held high, Andi walked away. Tears stung her eyes but she knew she was doing the right thing. Of course she was. Men lied and cheated and only let you down. Why waste any more time on Jonty? He was the worst of the lot. Stepping away now was going to save her a whole world of pain a few months down the line when he got bored or decided that the chilled-out life in Cornwall was no longer quite so exciting.
No, this was definitely the right thing to do.
Which just raised one thorny question: why then did it feel so totally and utterly wrong?
Chapter 48
The champagne cork exploded from the bottle with a loud pop and a hiss of foam. All eyes in The Wharf Café swivelled to the furthest table at the end of the balcony, where a group of people were toasting each other and laughing. It didn’t really need the opening of the champagne to grab the attention of the other customers: the presence of a major TV star – who’d been splashed across the papers all week long – was quite enough to make them whisper behind their menus, and the stunning blonde pouring the bubbles into glasses was already attracting glances. Add to that an oligarch who looked as though he’d be more at home torturing Bond, an ex-City trader turned cake-maker to royalty, a genuine viscount, plus the heir to one of Britain’s biggest pet-food companies, and the eclectic mix was bound to draw attention.
Partying at lunchtime and midweek, the group were certainly having the time of their lives. Even the infamous TV star didn’t look very sad about his public humiliation; instead he was smiling at a girl whose tumbling blonde curls and eye-watering curves would have had Playboy sign her on the spot.
Their good mood was infectious. Lashings of sunshine were pouring down from the sky in celebration with them while the dark clouds on the horizon stayed firmly in the distance, as though reluctant to spoil the festivities. Even the seagulls strutting along the edge of the rooftop didn’t interrupt with their usual squawking.
Angel raised her glass and grinned at the others. She was so over the moon that they had not only listened to her idea but liked it, she was practically in orbit. It had taken all the courage she possessed to visit each one and put her plan to them. Even though Laurence had assured her that she was onto something good, and she was convinced that this was the biggest stroke of genius since the invention of the wheel, everything depended on the other parties agreeing to it. After arranging to meet everyone here she had been on tenterhooks all morning and had almost driven Laurence to distraction. Combined with a late night worrying about her sister’s whereabouts that had only ended once Andi had texted to say she was with Jonty, it was amazing that Angel hadn’t started to gnaw her new acrylics all the way to her elbows. The last twenty-four hours had been beyond crazy.
“So, we’re all agreed, then? You really want to give it a shot?” Angel gazed at them all nervously. As, one by one, they nodded, her heart began to thud with excitement. Call it instinct, call it business acumen, call it psychic powers, call it whatever you wanted – Angel knew with every fibre of her being that this was something good. Something huge.
Mr Yuri, resplendent in a tight white suit that made him look like an obese version of the man from Del Monte, slammed his glass down on the table while his wife nodded like the Churchill dog.
“I have not ever given my backing to a project that fail! With my team to help, it will be beeg, beeg success. Is very good idea. I tell Abramovich and he say, ‘Yes, is very good.’” Already he was tapping away on his BlackBerry with his sausage fingers, and when he looked up Angel could almost see pound signs in his eyes. Phew. The concrete boots could go right to the back of the metaphorical shoe cupboard.
“I second that,” agreed Dee. “The business plan that Anton and I will put together will help to make some forecasts, but my gut feeling is that this has the ingredients to do very well indeed.” Holding up her hands she began to tick them off on her fingers. “Baking is huge business at the moment, the nation still loves reality TV, we’ve got an A-list celebrity on board as a big name – and throw into the mix a dilapidated mansion—”
“Steady on,” said Laurence, looking hurt. “Kenniston isn’t that bad.”
“It bloody well is,” Angel said firmly. “Babe, I’m still thawing out! But that’s the whole point. It’s kind of Downton Abbey meets TOWIE meets The Great British Bake Off, with a dollop of Sarah Beeny and Made in Chelsea thrown in.”
“Which is what makes it such a fantastic pitch,” Cal added. His brown eyes were bright with excitement and it said everything about Angel’s idea that he was more interested in discussing it than reaching for the breadbasket. “Mike and I had a preliminary chat with ITV2 and they made some very positive noises. They like the idea that this could cash in on my latest escapade and actually turn it into a positive for us. Jaysus, who’d have thought it? Being papped stuffing me face could be my best career move yet. And it’s all thanks to Gemma.”
Gemma blushed. “I don’t think I can take the credit. They also loved the idea of being able to give the BBC’s Bake Off a run for its money.” She entwined her fingers with Cal’s and smiled at him adoringly. “Paul Hollywood had better watch out. There’s a new sexy TV baker in town. The female viewers will go crazy.”
Cal kissed her. “I only have eyes for you, Gemma me darlin’!”
God, I must be going soft in my old age, Angel thought, because her eyes were going all misty. It was wonderful to see how happy Cal and Gemma were together. Since the night of the play when he’d declared his feelings in such a dramatic fashion, Cal hadn’t let Gemma out of his sight; they were like Siamese twins joined at the lips. No wonder Gemma was losing pounds: she was far too busy snogging to eat!
“And you’re really happy about this?” Angel turned to Laurence. Kenniston was his ancestral home and she knew just how much it meant to him. Would he really want to fling open the doors and invite the world inside? Although the Elliotts were only months away from finding themselves in serious danger of losing the place, she knew that the changes she had in mind would alter life at Kenniston forever. Lady Elliott had been surprisingly thrilled; she was a massive fan of Cal’s apparently, and an even greater fan of Travis, who had leapt at the chance to be involved and invest a chunk of his inheritance. Angel knew that he w
as still riddled with guilt from almost running Gemma over with his speedboat and, naughty as it was, if this was his way of atoning then she wasn’t about to tell him that Gemma had long since forgotten about the incident.
Laurence just raised her hand to his lips and brushed his mouth across the soft skin. Delicious shivers of desire dusted her limbs and suddenly she longed for everyone else to vanish so that it was just the two of them again. It was little short of miraculous that she’d actually managed to drag herself out of bed to put her idea into action.
“It’s the answer we’ve all been looking for,” he said firmly.
“Even you, Gemma?” Angel was worried. She’d sat down with Gemma and Cal, since he was the key to her idea succeeding, and they’d both been very enthusiastic. Gemma, who’d been inundated with rave reviews following her performance in Twelfth Night, had since turned down a plum TV role. Her ex-agent, Chloe, had called the day before, frantic to make amends and convince Gemma to sign a contract, which Gemma had flatly refused to do. Angel hated to think that Gemma might yet again be putting her own dreams on hold. She gave her friend a hard and searching look. “I don’t want you stepping away from your acting because of this. I don’t want anything else to get in the way of all your dreams.”
But Gemma shook her head. “It’s the weirdest thing, Angel, but when Chloe called yesterday I was horrified. It was a real case of ‘be careful what you ask for’. I’ve spent years dreaming of getting a part in a soap and then when I do I find it’s the last thing I want.”
“But you love acting. And you’re so talented. Why quit now?” Angel was confused. How many hours had she and Gemma spent trying to devise a master plan that would launch her friend into stardom? From control pants to bumping into Callum South – they had tried everything.
“Because I’ve only just rediscovered just how much I love it!” Gemma said. “I’m never going to give up acting but I don’t want the crap that goes with doing it professionally. All that bollocks about dieting and having to look a certain way; look at how Chloe treated me – she dropped me like a hot brick when she thought that I looked wrong.”
Cal looked at her with adoring eyes. “She’s a silly cow, so she is. You’re gorgeous and talented.”
“Thanks,” Gemma blushed.
Dee clapped delightedly. “Accepting compliments at last! There’s hope for you yet, Gemma!”
Gemma grinned at her. “I’m a work in progress. Seriously though, doing the play here has been brilliant and I’ve loved every minute of it, which has made me realise how I didn’t love it when I was trying so hard to succeed. I’ll keep on acting, I can’t imagine giving it up, but I’ll do it for fun. I’ve found that I love baking just as much and I can’t wait to try something new.” She smiled at Angel. “Your idea is brilliant. And spending more time with Cal is an added bonus too.”
Cal leaned across and kissed her.
Angel rolled her eyes at Laurence. “This could go on a while!”
He laughed. “In that case, may I propose a final toast? To the team behind Bread and Butlers and our new production company, Seaside Rock! To us!”
“To us!” they chorused. Amid the chinking of glasses and excited chatter their food arrived, and before long everyone was tucking into moules frites and tearing off chunks of oven-warm baguette to dunk in the white-wine and garlic sauce. Their enthusiasm and energy for her idea could have powered Rock for a year.
It was a simple plan, as all the best plans tend to be, but once it was in her head Angel hadn’t been able to ignore it. From the second she’d learned that Kenniston was in such financial dire straits her agile mind had been whirling back and forth to try to find a solution. When the idea finally landed it was so obvious that she had laughed out loud. What had she been dreaming of for so long? Reality TV, that was what! And what did she have at her fingertips? Only a mansion that needed saving, complete with dotty aristocrats, Laurence and his loaded blue-blooded pals, and a disgraced reality TV star whose career had to be rescued – and there it was, the perfect hit formula. Lots of talking with Laurence, Cal and Mike and a huge cash injection from Mr Yuri and Travis later, and the pitch for Bread and Butlers was ready to be turned into a treatment. Angel was so excited she could hardly breathe, although this could just be from being close to Laurence. Minted or moneyless, it didn’t make the slightest bit of difference. Just the sight of him turned her into a puddle of longing.
As she watched her friends, both new and old, chat and excitedly discuss their plans, Angel felt a warm buzz of pride that was bigger and better than anything she’d ever felt in her life. Seeing her idea start to take shape was a thousand times more satisfying than buying a new handbag or the latest must-have shoes. Only one thing could have made her happier and that was knowing that Andi’s problems were over.
Angel had been distraught. Andi was running away? It hadn’t made any sense until she’d spotted that total and utter tosser Tom swaggering through the town as though he owned the place. It hadn’t taken long to put two and two together after that, and in a blind panic Angel, with the help of Travis’s Aston Martin, had torn through the town like the Tasmanian Devil on tyres until she’d enlisted the help of just about everyone they knew.
Angel sipped her champagne thoughtfully. Interesting that it had been Jonty who’d managed to find her sister and persuade her to come back to Rock. Perhaps she should give Jonty a chance? After Tomgate Angel had been ready to strangle any man who treated her sister badly and all she’d wanted was somebody to take care of her sister; was that so bad? How could a guy who earned only pennies possibly manage that? But he if genuinely did care about her sister then perhaps Angel could make an exception?
Maybe there could be a job for Jonty on Bread and Butlers, Angel wondered as she stared out into the street. He seemed pretty practical. He was also very easy on the eye, with that taut ripped stomach, smooth golden tan and summer-sea gaze, and he would look great on camera. Not that she was being mercenary or anything! She crinkled her brow in concentration. Maybe he could help with the renovations? Or set-building? Or even the grounds at Kenniston – although he might need more than a Flymo to cope with several hundred thousand acres. And Andi too could be an asset to the team as Seaside Rock’s accountant.
Angel was just drifting into a wonderful dream where, several months down the line, she was attending the BAFTAs (dressed in something slinky and designer, obviously, and posing on the red carpet with Laurence, who was jaw-droppingly handsome in his tux) when a slumped-shouldered figure passing by the café caught her attention.
It was Andi.
Angel leaned forward. Surely not? Andi was with Jonty. She must be. Angel had sent her several texts already and none of them had been answered, which she’d taken as a very good sign indeed – when she was lying in Laurence’s arms her iPhone could chime and beep itself silly, but there was no way she was going to answer – so she hadn’t worried about the silence in the slightest. Now though, a cold hand squeezed Angel’s heart. Something was up. She knew it.
Excusing herself from the party, Angel tore down the steps and out into the street. Sure enough the slender red-headed figure walking out of town was her sister.
“Andi!” Angel cried, kicking off her heels and sprinting through clusters of surprised tourists. “Andi! Wait up! Ouch! Shit!” The gritty tarmac bit into her soles and she winced with every step she took. Angel took her hat off to the Little Mermaid. Personally she’d have said sod the prince and reached for her Uggs. “Ow! Andi! Stop, before my feet fall to bits!”
Her last agonised yelp caught the attention of several holidaymakers and her sister. Slowly Andi turned around, as though she’d been plucked from her own world. When she saw her sister’s face, Angel stopped in her tracks. She was shocked beyond words.
Andi, strong and sensible Andi – the sister who’d carried her, who’d helped her through the horrors of school and loss and crappy boyfriends and even crappier finances, the sister who never moaned or ma
de a fuss – wore an expression so bleak that it took Angel’s breath away.
But even worse than this? Her sister, her strong and clever sister, was crying. Angel’s hands balled into tight and angry fists.
If this was Jonty’s doing, then she was going to kill him.
Chapter 49
Andi had been so deep in gloomy thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed Angel until her sister grabbed her arm. Before she could even so much as protest, Angel had frogmarched her up the road and into the Mariners pub. Once the sisters were ensconced in a window seat and nursing halves of scrumpy, Angel began an interrogation that would have made the Spanish Inquisition look like amateurs.
“You can cut out all that ‘I’m fine’ bollocks,” Angel told her. She leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. “I know you, remember? You can’t fob me off. What’s happened? Is it something to do with Jonty?”
Andi stared down at the table. Condensation ran down her glass like the tears she had wept from the moment she’d walked away from him. Every step she’d taken had felt like a knife through her heart, and it had taken all the willpower she possessed not to turn around and fling herself back into his arms.
“He’s a liar,” she said bleakly. Was that really her voice? It sounded really odd. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window and winced. She looked dreadful: her face was ashen and her eyes were red from crying so hard. It was ridiculous; she hadn’t even cried this much when she’d caught Tom cheating. What was the matter with her? She’d only spent one night with Jonty.
Angel’s perfect brows drew together. “Jonty? What on earth can he have to lie about?” Then a thought occurred – Andi could almost see the cogs in her sister’s mind turning – and she gasped, “Oh my God! He’s not married?”
In spite of her despair, Andi laughed. “No, of course not!”
Angel exhaled. “Phew. That’s a relief! So, he’s not married and I presume he’s not murdered anyone, so what’s he lied about?”
[Escape 01.0] Escape for the Summer Page 43
