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“I’m, um, well–” I frantically search for a good reason why I’m here and say quickly, “I was at university here and somebody told me about the agency.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “Wow, obviously someone trusted you. You usually only get invited by the great woman herself and she hasn’t been here for some time. The only reason there’s an English branch to her business is because of Adele Heatherington.”
“Who’s she?” I hold my breath because I’m finally getting somewhere, and Chantelle shakes her head. “I thought you would know. She’s Marsha’s best friend. They go way back.”
She cocks her head to one side and says thoughtfully. “There were three of them, I believe. They went to school together and have remained good friends. She’s not involved in the industry now, though. She was at the beginning but married a politician and had to distance herself from this line of work.”
“How do you know this stuff?” I’m amazed, and she grins. “A lot of men talk when you’re sitting on their dick and asking them leading questions. Knowledge is power darling, and I may be here now, but I’m not going to stick around long. I’m building my own future and using these sick shits to get me there.”
I watch as Mikhail heads over to us with an angry expression on his face, and it makes me giggle. “Someone doesn’t look happy.”
Chantelle sighs. “Wow, I bet he’s a beast between the sheets. You’re one lucky bitch.”
She heads back to her lord and Mikhail wastes no time in pulling me close and growling, “I fucking hate this shit. What did she say?”
I whisper, “The woman over by the piano with the guy wearing the velvet jacket that’s giving up the fight. That’s Beatrice.”
“We’ll find out what she knows and get the hell back to London before it gets crazy.”
I spy a waiter nearby and say quickly, “Grab a couple of drinks. I have an idea.”
We take them as we pass and approach the couple who are talking to a man who is almost bent over double and holding a walking stick.
“Christ, I hope he has Viagra in that drink.” I whisper, and Mikhail smirks. “You’re a wicked woman, Lilli. It’s what I love about you.”
“You love me now?” I raise my eyes. “Now, what am I going to do about that? It’s so inconvenient when there is so much else here to choose from.”
His angry glower makes me giggle as we head across to the woman I believe to be Beatrice.
The men glance up and Mikhail offers them his outstretched hand.
“Gentlemen.” He sweeps his gaze over their companions to indicate an interest and I hate every minute of it, even though I realize it’s his reason for interrupting their conversation.
“Mikhail Romanov.”
He introduces himself to each man in turn, and as they offer the same greeting, I peer at their escorts with interest. Both gaze at Mikhail with interest and appear resigned to their own fate at ending up with the most decrepit guys in the room. I guess they’re hoping for swapsies tonight, but that will be Mikhail over his dead body.
I waste no time and pretend to stumble on my heels and the contents of my glass spill down Beatrice’s front, soaking her in the process.
I cry out. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Let me help you.”
She jumps back with a start and stares in horror at the liquid running between her breasts and the guy beside her laughs out loud. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll lick that off soon.”
I swear she winces at his words, and I take my chance. “Please, I’ll help you clean up. I’m so clumsy, I never should have worn these heels.”
I guide her away from the crowd and toward the restroom, apologizing profusely as I go.
As we enter the room, she stares at her reflection in the mirror and moans, “I hate my fucking life.”
“I’m so sorry.” I hand her a towel and as she attempts to dry off, I say nervously, “I’m sorry, but I’m a last-minute replacement for your friend. She was sick and asked me to tell you.”
“Heather?” Her eyes widen. “Oh no, the poor thing. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Safe in the knowledge, we’ll be far away by then, I say with a sigh. “She told me that neither of us were supposed to be here, anyway. That Mr. Romanov always had the same escort and never swapped.”
“Mr. Romanov senior she means.”
“What, not the man I’m with?” I feign surprise and she sighs as she pats the liquid from her chest.
