I was hoping Luke might give me a kiss and tell me how perfect I am again. But his face has kind of changed. He doesn’t seem quite so upset and tortured as he did before. In fact, he’s eyeing me with a familiar kind of expression.
Something quite near suspicion.
‘What’s the name of the clinic?’ he says lightly.
‘I can’t remember now.’ I cough. ‘Anyway, let’s not talk about it any more. I feel so bad, Luke—’
‘You could look at the paperwork.’ He gestures at my bag.
‘I’ll look later.’ I nod. ‘Later. When I’m less upset at the worry I caused you.’
Luke’s still just giving me that look of his.
Oh God. He’s twigged, hasn’t he? At least, he’s twigged I wasn’t at a boob-job clinic.
‘Do you want a drink?’ he says abruptly.
‘Er … OK,’ I say, my heart pounding. ‘Do you have time?’
‘I can sneak fifteen minutes.’ He glances at his watch. ‘Don’t tell my assistant.’
‘Of course not.’ I give a slightly unnatural laugh. ‘Not that I even know her!’
‘You do know her.’ Luke gives me a puzzled look as he heads to the bar. ‘Bonnie. You’ve met.’
‘Oh right. Of course.’
I subside into a chair and unfurl my clenched fingers from round my bag. This whole secret-party lark is totally stressy, and I’ve only just started.
‘Cheers.’ Luke has returned to the table with two glasses of wine and we clink glasses.
For a while there’s a silence as we sip. Luke keeps eyeing me over the top of his glass. Then, as though coming to a decision, he puts it down.
‘So, some good news. We’ve got a couple of new clients. Not financial.’
‘Ooh!’ I look up with interest. ‘Who?’
Let it be Gucci, let it be Gucci …
‘The first is a climate technology company. They’re lobbying for investment in a new carbon-absorption project and want us to come on board. Could be interesting.’
Carbon absorption. Hmph.
‘Great!’ I say warmly. ‘Well done! What about the other one?’
‘The other one is quite a coup …’ he begins, his eyes sparkling. Then he hesitates, glances at me and sips his wine. ‘Actually, that’s not quite firmed up yet. I’ll let you know when it is. Don’t want to jinx it.’
‘Well, congratulations anyway.’ I lift my glass. ‘I guess you need a bit of good news at the moment.’
‘It’s not great out there.’ He raises his eyebrows wryly. ‘How about your shopping department? I can’t imagine that’s done great the last few days, either.’
‘Well, actually …’ I’m about to tell him about my fab new system where people can hide their shopping from their husbands.
Then I stop. On second thoughts, maybe I won’t.
‘We’re holding up,’ I say instead. ‘You know.’
Luke nods and takes another sip of wine, leaning back in his chair. ‘It’s nice to have a few moments, just the two of us. You should come this way more often. Although maybe not to the plastic-surgery clinic.’ Again he shoots me that sceptical look.
Is he going to push it, or not? I just can’t tell.
‘So, did you see the email about the nannies?’ I change the subject quickly. ‘Aren’t they fab?’
‘Yes!’ He nods. ‘I was impressed.’
We’ve already had loads of CVs sent through from Ultimate Nannies, and each one looks better than the last! One speaks five languages, one has sailed across the Atlantic and one has two degrees in history of art. If one of them can’t make Minnie well balanced and accomplished I don’t know who can.
‘I’d better go.’ Luke gets to his feet and I grab my bag. We head to the street, and Luke pauses to kiss me. ‘See you later, Becky.’
‘See you.’ I nod.
I’m off the hook. He’s just going to leave it. Even though there’s no way in a million years he believes the boob-job story.
Thanks for trusting me, I want to message silently back into his head. I wasn’t doing anything bad, –promise.
I hold my breath and watch him walk away till he rounds the corner. Then I collapse on a nearby bench, pull out a compact mirror and start studying my face in detail.
OK, Luke knows nothing about anything. I could easily have had Botox. Look at that totally smooth bit, right by my hair. He must be blind.
I get back to The Look to find Jasmine on the phone.
‘Yeah, two o’clock, no problem,’ she’s saying. ‘See you then.’ She puts the receiver down and gives me a look of triumphant joy. (That’s to say, one corner of her mouth raises reluctantly in a smile. I’ve learned to read Jasmine pretty well.) ‘Well, your plan’s working. Three clients have uncancelled their appointments.’
‘Fantastic!’
‘And there’s a customer waiting right now,’ Jasmine adds. ‘No appointment. Says she wants to see you, no one else. She’s lurking around the floor till you get back.’
‘OK,’ I say in surprise. ‘Well, just give me a minute.’
I hurry to my dressing room, put my bag away and freshen up my lipgloss, wondering who it might be. People do quite often drop in without an appointment, so it could be anybody. God, I hope it’s not that girl who wants to look like Jennifer Aniston, because the truth is, she’s never going to in a million years, however many halter tops she buys—