The Other Wives Club

by Shari Low

  ‘You honestly never find it difficult having your ex-wife working for you?’ She’d asked this when they first met and she didn’t expect his reply to have changed. Tess had found it irksome at first, but she’d come to accept it as a fact of life she couldn’t change, just like his workaholic ways.

  Drew took a long gulp of his San Miguel and shrugged. ‘Not at all. She’s brilliant at her job.’

  His reply set off another wave of panic. Forget Mona’s job, what about hers? How could she work at Anderson & McWilliam with Cameron after this? A whole new stream of catastrophizing took flight. She would lose the job she loved because Cameron would announce that he couldn’t work with her anymore and he was higher up the company ladder than she was. Then Drew would find out about Cameron’s feelings for her and suspect her of reciprocation. He’d then realize that their marriage wasn’t working and divorce her. And in the space of about three seconds, she was unemployed, homeless and living in a camper van with two hippy parents, one of them wearing nipple tassels. Oh crap, her life was over.

  ‘Well, look who it is.’

  The voice came from behind Tess and immediately sent the hairs on the back of her neck up. Maybe Mona did actually annoy her more than a little. She steeled herself and prepared to launch Operation Pretend You’re Happy To Be On Holiday With The Husband’s Ex-Wives. Was it just her, or did that sound like the title of one of those crazy American talk shows where they did paternity tests and everyone was related to their cousin? Cameron loved those. Aaaargh, stop thinking about him!

  If anyone was watching them they’d think they were a group of close friends, as much air-kissing, hand-pumping and hugging ensued. Piers was his normal over-the-top ebullient self. Tess actually quite liked him. In the beginning she’d felt a little intimidated in his presence and recoiled slightly from his flash, brash manner. What did a super-wealthy businessman have in common with a marketing executive who spent all day doing vitally important work like dreaming about new ways to bring Doggie Doo Bags to the world? Over the few times she’d met him, though, she’d come to realize that inside he was really just a working-class guy who’d made good and wasn’t shy about showing his wealth. In fact, if she was being completely honest with herself, she preferred his loud, charismatic company to spending time with Mona. Oh bugger, more evil thoughts. Make an effort. Make an effort, she told herself. Mona is nice. She is harmless. This is all going to be fine.

  ‘You look… lovely,’ Mona told her with a wide smile. She mentally retracted the ‘fine’ prediction. The men didn’t notice the patronizing undertone, but it was definitely there. She suddenly wished she’d made more of an effort with her appearance. The simple pair of cropped, straight jeans, white wedge sandals and a white T-shirt, with a chunky silver chain and bracelet set that Drew had bought her for her last birthday, had all seemed like presentable enough travelling clothes, but now she felt decidedly underdressed. And overweight. Why hadn’t she stuck to the diet and shifted the ten pounds her arse could live without? She was chronically under-groomed, too. All she’d bothered with that morning was a quick coat of mascara and a slick of lip gloss that she’d long ago chewed off.

  Mona definitely left her in the shade, in a stunning white crepe, sleeveless shift dress that stopped just above her knees and was accessorized with navy fifties-style kitten heels and a necklace of large navy and white marbles. With her jet-black, Dita Von Teese hair and ruby red lips, she looked like an exotic creature from an old movie. Tess was more suited to being an extra in Friends.

  ‘And you are gorgeous as ever, Mona. I bet you’re the most glamorous woman on the boat.’ And the most bitchy. For reasons of diplomacy, the second comment wasn’t said aloud.

  Mona accepted the compliment gracefully and offered no objection. Job done, Tess switched her attention to Piers, who was ordering up a couple of cocktails, giving Chad, USA a thrilling opportunity to show off his bartending acrobatics, then back to Piers.

  ‘Did Drew tell me you were bringing your son, too, Piers?’

  As she was saying it, out of the corner of her eye she noticed a tall, dark-haired guy enter the bar and come striding over to them.

  ‘There you are. Just in time,’ Piers boomed. ‘This is my son, Max.’

  The newcomer shook hands all round, before adding another beer to Chad, USA’s order.

  ‘I’m glad you could come,’ Drew told the younger man. ‘Mona said that you’d always wanted to cruise the Med.’

  Tess caught the hint of confusion that crossed Max’s face, before Mona swept into the conversation, pushing her arm through Max’s and turning her smile to megawatt. Something odd had just happened but before Tess could work out what it was, Mona interjected.

  ‘It will be great for you too, darling,’ she remarked pointedly to Tess. ‘Won’t it be nice for you to have someone your own age around?’

  Mona

  Bitch. Bloody bitch. It was the first thing that had crossed Mona’s mind when she entered the bar and saw Tess standing there looking carefree, and naturally gorgeous and YOUNG. By her reckoning her replacement must be twenty-eight, but she could be at least five years younger. She didn’t have a scrap of make-up on and yet she was irresistibly pretty. Pouring her curvaceous body into a plain T-shirt and jeans just made her look even sweeter. Bitch. To keep this figure, Mona hadn’t eaten a carbohydrate since somewhere around 1998, and yet here was this girl, obviously no stranger to a bacon roll yet managing to pull off voluptuous and gorgeous.

  Mona’s inner hungry bitch seethed with the injustice of it, but she was smart enough to know that making it obvious wouldn’t do her any favours. Drew had always hated her more caustic side and Piers would be furious with her if she was rude. This was only day one – no time to cause issues. Not when there was so much at stake.

  She watched Drew effortlessly charm Max and get into a friendly banter with Piers over football – the standard class-bridging, non-ageist, all-consuming topic of the Scottish male.

  She wasn’t desperate enough to get involved, so instead she turned her attention to Tess. On closer inspection, the younger woman did seem a little tense across the eyes. It was never too young to begin having Botox. Purely as a preventative measure, of course.

  She decided to make an effort. ‘So, how are things in the marketing world, then?’ she asked Tess sweetly.

  ‘They’re good. Busy.’

  If Mona was a little less ladylike she might have snorted with derision. Busy? She had worked twelve-hour days, six days a week for twenty years. That was bloody busy. Tess probably thought she was rushed off her feet if she didn’t have time to pop into Starbucks twice a day.

  ‘Great,’ she replied, acting as if she was totally engaged in the conversation. ‘What are you working on at the moment?’

  She noticed that the tension in Tess’s eyes ramped up a little as she answered. ‘Oh, just a new dog product. It’s a… actually, I won’t bore you with it. It’s not very exciting.’

  For the love of God. Drew Gold was married to a woman who was plugging dog products. How had that ever happened?

  It took her a moment to realize that Tess was returning the question. ‘And how are things with you, Mona? I saw your double-spread on the resurgence of the military vibe last week. The clothes were beautiful. But then, everything looks fabulous on the models, doesn’t it?’

  Was this child trying to taunt her? The dress Mona was wearing right now had been from that spread, albeit it had then been paired with a short navy jacket with gold buttons, and braiding on the epaulettes.

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Sometimes. But then, some of those young girls have the IQ of an Ugg boot, so it’s just as well they’re beautiful.’

  Direct hit. Score one-nil to Mona. It was just too easy.

  Tess’s stunned silence caused a lull in the conversation.

  OK, bored. She didn’t come here to make small talk and indulge in petty point-scoring with Tess. In fact… She glanced at her stepson and a genius th
ought slipped into her mind. Her earlier comment about Max and Tess being good company for each other because they were the same age echoed in her mind. Many a true word spoken in jest. Max and Tess. Not a romance, of course, Tess wouldn’t have the balls nor, she was sure, the inclination to stray. But perhaps Max could keep Tess just busy enough to put some building blocks for her Piers Delaney exit plan into place.

  Sarah

  ‘Come on, Lawrence, let’s see what’s along here, shall we?’ Sarah wandered along the busy deck, gently guiding her grandson with one hand and holding a chocolate ice cream with the other. It had come from the ice cream parlour in the main public area on deck five, which was possibly the most amazing thing she’d ever seen – an actual street in the middle of the ship, with bars, restaurants and shops along either side. She’d already located the ice cream parlour, the pizzeria, the Irish-themed pub and a cake and candy shop that sold the most mouth-watering range of treats, with not a tit cake in sight.

  After giving into the temptation of her mint chocolate chip treat (she couldn’t bear to wonder how many Weight Watchers points were in it), she stopped to study one of the ship plans that she’d noticed were on the wall beside every elevator. Every deck except the top two were heavily populated with cabins, but some also had other outlets or activities. The main dining rooms at either end of the ship had three layers, spanning decks two, three and four. Deck five was taken up mostly with The Main Street and guest services. Deck six had the Internet cafe, the library and the conference room. Deck seven was home to the ice rink and cinema. The two-storey theatre was at the front of decks eight and nine. The casino and casual restaurant, Waterfalls, were on deck ten, right below the spa, gym and several speciality restaurants. Deck twelve had the kids’ clubs, a basketball court and the first of the swimming pools. There was no deck thirteen – a superstitious thing. On the next level there was a wave pool with surfing simulator, an obstacle course, a jogging track, an ‘adults only’ area and a church. She might pop in there to pray that no one would ever force her to go on the obstacle course. And finally, the very top deck had a bar called The Ocean View and an observation deck with telescopes. Telescopes! Lawrence would love that.

  ‘Come on, my lovely, let’s go look at the birds and the boats through the telescopes, shall we?’

  Lawrence followed her, toddling along quite happily. He was by far the most placid of the twins, obviously having absorbed all the ‘laid-back and content’ genes in the womb, leaving ‘loves excitement and easily bored’ for Lavinia. Not too dissimilar to her own children’s splash in the genetic pool.

  For a moment, she wished that Patsy were here. They’d probably be in a cocktail bar by now, half-tipsy on pina coladas, and they’d already be fully studied in the entire stock range of every shop on the ship. She’d thought about suggesting she bring her pal when Drew had invited her, but didn’t want it to seem like she was taking advantage. Her and Drew weren’t exactly BFFs, but she was happy that an easy friendship had arisen from the devastation of their divorce.

  She wasn’t paying much attention to the gent who held open the lift for them to enter.

  ‘Cute little guy. Is this your son?’

  Sarah felt a minor flush of pink in her cheeks as she laughed. ‘My grandson. But that question might just have made my day,’ she joked. ‘And I don’t suppose you’re Tim McGraw?’

  ‘No, ma’am, but that question might just have made my day, so I guess that makes us even.’ Not that Sarah was particularly up on her US dialects, but that definitely sounded like a Texan twang. The white T-shirt, blue jeans, big silver buckle on the belt and cowboy boots added weight to her theory. Oh, bloody hell, a cowboy who looked like a slightly chunkier, slightly older, but ruggedly attractive version of country legend Tim McGraw. On a ship. In the Med. Wait till she told Patsy about this.

  Perhaps he was with a tribute act? Or maybe there was a C&W-themed bar on the ship and he worked there.

  ‘What floor ma’am?’

  Ma’am. She liked that.

  ‘Top deck, please. We’re going to look at the boats, aren’t we, Lawrence?’

  Lawrence nodded, his gaze transfixed by the silver toecaps of Tim McGraw’s cowboy boots.

  ‘That’s where I’m headed, too.’ His eyes crinkled when he smiled. Sarah tried not to notice. She also tried not to notice his broad shoulders, his flat stomach and his buttocks. DO NOT GET CAUGHT LOOKING AT HIS ARSE. DO NOT. This was ridiculous. First day out of her kitchen and she was in a lift with a cowboy with incredibly tight buttocks. Yes, she looked at his arse.

  As the lift shot upwards she made a mental note to get a grip of herself. And no, much as she was dying to know, asking him if he had a horse wouldn’t be a good idea. Just keep quiet. And dignified. If he had a horse called Tonto that was his own business.

  ‘Nate McKenzie,’ he drawled, holding out his hand.

  Oh bollocks, so much for keeping quiet. ‘Sarah Gold. And this is Lawrence.’

  After shaking Sarah’s hand, he leant down and shook Lawrence’s too. So cute. A cute cowboy. Who may or may not have a horse called Tonto. Patsy was going to laugh her arse off.

  The doors pinged open and as they both turned right, Sarah wittered, ‘Apparently there’s a viewing tower along here with telescopes, so that’s where I’m taking Lawrence.’

  ‘That’s where I’m headed, too,’ Nate replied. ‘My grandsons are along there, they’re a might older than this little guy, and I’m going to track them down.’ Sarah tried not to show her surprise. He didn’t look old enough to be a grandfather to older kids. She’d have put him at around the same age as her, so somewhere around the forty-eight-to-fifty mark. Still, hadn’t she read somewhere that they had children really young in the South?

  ‘I’m here with my daughter and her sons,’ he explained. ‘I promised her since she was a little girl that I’d bring her to Europe and I’m just gettin’ to it now. Sure hope it lives up to expectations.’ There was a warmth in his voice that made Sarah smile. Or maybe it was just because somewhere in her head she was still pretending he was Tim McGraw. How weird. Yesterday she was dreading this whole trip and today here she was, wandering along in the sunshine and thoroughly enjoying chatting to a stranger.

  They weaved in and out of the crowd as they walked the length of the deck in companionable silence.

  ‘I think it must be round behind that bar there,’ Sarah said, pointing to the circular glass structure right in front of them.

  ‘Sarah!’ When she was a little girl she hated the sound of nails scratching down a blackboard. She’d just discovered the adult version. Mona’s voice rang out clear and grating. Several more familiar faces emerged from the bar.

  ‘Mona! Good to see you. And Drew. Tess. Piers. And…’

  ‘Max,’ Mona replied. ‘My stepson.’

  Sarah knew her cheeks were the colour of Mona’s ruby red lips.

  ‘Hey, buddy.’ Drew greeted Lawrence, scooping him up and squeezing him, to Lawrence’s obvious delight. ‘We were just coming to find you,’ Drew told her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. ‘We thought we were all meeting in this bar.’

  ‘Oh. I didn’t know.’

  ‘Didn’t Eliza tell you? I texted her this morning to suggest it.’

  ‘Unless a text involves an eighteen-year-old boy or shopping, she just ignores it.’

  ‘Ah, sorry. That probably explains why she’s not here yet either. I should have checked with you, too.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. I was just taking Lawrence along to the viewing tower, but we could join you later.’

  ‘Yes, give you a chance to freshen up,’ Mona said with a sweet smile that Sarah instinctively knew concealed a caustic barb. Here we go, she thought. Ding. Ding. Round one. ‘Because I think you’ve, erm, spilled something on your top.’

  Sarah automatically looked down, then groaned in horror. ‘It’s mint chocolate chip ice cream.’ Mortified didn’t even begin to cover it, made even more toe-curling by the sure
knowledge that Mona would be loving this. Her gaze was drawn to another suspicious stain on the other side of her white top, and despite a firm command from her brain to her gob to stop talking immediately, embarrassment kept her chatter going. ‘And that one is…’ she racked her brain and eventually came to the point of even more embarrassment. ‘Actually, you don’t want to know.’

  ‘Oh, we do.’ Mona giggled.

  What would be the penalty for tossing a seven-and-a-half stone woman overboard? Sarah rapidly came to the conclusion that she would do the time.

  ‘Oh, it was just… well, Lavinia was sick and I cuddled her and… OK, I told you that you wouldn’t want to know.’

  In her subconscious, she heard the splash as Mona and her smug grin hit the water. Thankfully, Tess spoke up with a kindly, ‘Not to worry. I bet Penny appreciated your help. Shall we arrange to meet later?’ Tess didn’t wait for an answer, before her gaze moved sideward. ‘Sorry, we’re being incredibly rude. I’m Tess Gold.’

  It took Sarah a second to realize that Nate had been standing beside her the whole time and had witnessed every word of the exchange. Poor guy was clearly too polite to run for the hills.

  ‘Nate McKenzie. Please to meet you ma’am.’

  His voice was like warm, smooth barbeque sauce being poured on a rack of ribs. Dolly should write a song about it.

  Drew wasn’t looking particularly cheery, but nevertheless he shook Nate’s hand and introduced himself. The others followed suit.

  ‘So, Sarah Gold, Mona Gold and Tess Gold – are you three lovely ladies sisters?’ Nate asked.

  Oh bollocks, Sarah groaned inside. Could they perhaps go back to talking about the vomit on her top?

  ‘No, actually,’ Mona replied, her expression alive with mischief. ‘We’re all Drew’s wives.’

  To his credit, Nate barely blinked, just gave a small nod and said, ‘Well, it was good to meet you folks. You all have a great trip.’