I stretch out along the bed, my shoulders stiff.Yuck. Froggy porridge-glued eyes, sore shoulders, and drool.
‘Why areyouin a state of shock? Ivy’s the one who’s been through the mill.’
‘Through the mill is right. And hammered a bit, too. God, my head feels like it’s been hammered, at least.’ Great; so now, I’m talking to myself.
Pulling myself upright, no mean feat when you’ve a beach ball shoved under your clothes, I catch the tail end of Nat’s reasoning.
‘Like how I’ve only just realised that not only has my boss—’
‘Friend, Natasha,’ Fin asserts. ‘I think in this instance the correct title is friend. She’s going to need them.’
I swallow a small sob as my feet touch the floor in my attempt to reach the bathroom to guzzle mouthwash.
‘I know that—I know! I’m just in a state of shock, that’s why—whisky!’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘For one, I’ve just found out my bossand friendhumped a real live movie star—and then . . . then married him!’
Tears prick at my lids as I pause at the bathroom door because yes, yes I did. And now, he’s turned up fuzzy of face and shaggy of hair and he still looks like the sexiest thing ever, and I want him still.
Shuffling into the bathroom, I leave the door open to their squabbling.God, my hair.It looks like a load of crows has nested in it.
‘Yes, a real live movie star as opposed to a real dead one?’ Fin asks, deadpan.
‘Two,’ Nat says, absolutely ignoring Fin’s snarky response. ‘He’s just turned up with a beard I could f—fondle all day, and I took a maddy on him.’
‘Please don’t say that’s as bad as it sounds, and you can’t fondle the beard of a friend’s husband, no matter how secret he is.’
‘I know that!’ she says, incredulous. ‘But I just lost my rag with a film star. Come on—I went mental! I was really rude to him. Then I flipped him the bird—my favourite movie manandwith a beard, and I flipped him the bird!’
Fin sets off laughing as Natasha begins to complain about the workings of the universe.
Rinse. Spit. Wipe away Listerine and more tears. I probably won’t need to pee for the next fortnight.
‘It gets worse,’ Nat cries, sounding a little distraught. ‘Because I might have also watched him getting it on with another girl. More than once!’ Fin’s laughter halts. ‘In my defence, it was really hot. Like—off the charts. I can’t even explain.’
‘When? Here, at the hotel? You saw him? I don’t think I quite understand.’
As Nat’s voice lowers to just above a whisper, I tiptoe over to the door. ‘There were no faces or anything, but I could tell it was him.’
‘Start from the beginning,’ my sensible friend says, her words heavy with concern.
‘It was a video; I haven’t been spying on him or anything.’
‘Thank the Lord.’
‘Pfft! Like any girl wouldn’t, given half the chance. Anyway, it didn’t show faces, just the good stuff.’
‘Please don’t explain, except to say how you know it was him.’
‘He has that voice, doesn’t he? Like it’d get you to do things you might not ordinarily do.’
‘Kinda sexy,’ Fin agrees. ‘Sexy and gravelly.’
‘Aye, an accent with a whole load of sex butter thrown in.’
‘I don’t know what that is, but yeah.’
