Now,thatwas more like it.
Roberta rubbed her hands together. ‘Ho, ho, don’t mind if I—’
A voice cut across The Lobby That Brigadoon Forgot.‘Roberta?’Sounding a bit shocked.
She pivoted around and there was Susan, marching towards her, in jeans and a floral shirt, hair up in a ‘do’ that was far too fancy for what she was wearing. Voice a sharp-edged whisper. ‘What are you doing here?’
Roberta preened a little. ‘Decided to surprise you. Wee romantic gesture, and all that.’ Threw in a little swagger and a dig in the ribs for good measure. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘You said you weren’t coming! You’re not on the guest...’ Her eyes bugged as one of those strapping athletic types wandered into the room.
Now, being a professional police officer, you notice certain wee details that would probably pass your ordinary punter by, but to atrainedeye, one with decades of experience in law enforcement – going by the big white meringue-style dress she was wearing – Little Miss Athletic was probably getting married today. It was an off-the-shoulder job, exposing a delicious amount of cleavage that swelled and wobbled as she breathed. Attractive, in a broad-shouldered-could-snap-you-in-two kind of way, even with her hair still in rollers.
Probably liked being spanked. The bossy ones always did.
Susan grabbed Roberta’s hand. ‘Don’t youdareembarrass me!’ Then raised her voice to a more normal and cheery volume, waving at the bride-to-be. ‘Adriana!’
Athletic Adriana turned and beamed at her, sweeping in for a hug. ‘Susan!’ She pulled a constipated-frog face, arms out. ‘What do you think of the dress, is it too froofie-meringue-bums? I think it’s a bit froofie, but it’s my wedding day and if you can’t be froofie on your wedding day, when can you?’
The two of them shared a mwah-mwah air kiss.
Then Athletic Adriana finally noticed Roberta. Stared for a moment, then went back to Susan. ‘Oh. But I thought you...?’
‘Adriana, you remember my wife, Roberta Steel?’ Pulling on a smile that looked a bit pained. ‘She decided it would beromanticto surprise me and come after all. Aftertellingme shehadto be at a training conference all weekend.’ Was that a note of disapproval in her voice? ‘And couldn’t make it.’
Nah, course it wasn’t. That was the problem with big romantic gestures, some people took a while to get over the shock.
Roberta treated Athletic Adriana to a swaggery head wobble too. ‘Wee white lie. You know, for romantic purposes.’
And for some reason, Susan mouthed ‘Sorry!’ at the bride-to-be.
Weird.
There was a pause, then Adriana had a bash at a none-too-convincing smile of her own. ‘I see. How... lovely.’
‘Nothing’s too good for my main squeeze.’ And to prove the point, Roberta grabbed a handful of Susan’s bum and gave it a squeezing.
Which made her go bright pink and mouth, ‘Sorry!’ again.
A couple of blinks and Adriana seemed to get it together. ‘Oh, yah, you’re the police officer, right? We met... at the work’s Christmas bash? Yes. Glad you could join us after all.’ Then went in for one of those ridiculous mwah-mwah kisses.
Yeah, not playing that game.
But it did give Roberta a really good look down the front of her dress.
Magnificent boobage.
The mwah-mwahs over, she turned back to Susan. ‘Nobody told me getting married was atotalorganisational nightmarefest! The wedding planner’s broken her leg, Mummy’s gonecompletemeltdown because of the centrepieces, Daddy’s disappeared, and I’m supposed to be having a nice relaxing bath, instead of stomping about like anabsoluteBridezilla in my dress! But there’s amillionthings to do,’ sideways glance in Roberta’s direction, ‘likereorganisethe seating plan. And I haven’t even had my hair styled yet. Disasterama!’
Susan took both of her hands. ‘I’m here to help. What needs doing?’
‘Oh, you’re just the best bossever!’ She actually welled up a bit at that.
‘Robbie, why don’t you go check in and freshen up?’ Susan stuck her chin in the air. ‘I’ve got some bottom to kick.’
And with that, the pair of them swept off, laughing, leaving Roberta alone with Captain String-and-Bones.
He cleared his throat and held out one of those crystal tumblers, a teeny finger of molten amber sloshing about at the bottom of the trembling glass. ‘Madam?’
