‘We’ve met before,’ Owen said, taking it and flashing that devastating smile. ‘You don’t remember?’
‘Oh yes, I do! I just…’ She just hadn’t expectedhimto remember. He must meet so many people all the time.
‘I never forget a beautiful girl,’ he said. ‘It was at some bint’s wedding.’
‘That was my sister.’
‘Sorry,’ Owen grinned unrepentantly.
‘It’s okay – she’s some bint all right.’
Kate shielded her eyes to squint up at him. He was grungy and dishevelled, sporting about three days’ worth of stubble and wearing a pair of ridiculously long, baggy yellow shorts, a candy-stripe short-sleeved shirt open over his bare chest and a Rasta hat. Only he could get away with wearing such mismatched, ugly clothes and still manage to look beautiful, she thought.
‘Been reading about Tessa?’ Owen picked up the magazine. ‘Banging on about how she got so skinny, I suppose.’
‘Apparently it’s down to a combination of her diet – sorry, healthy-eating plan,’ Kate corrected herself, ‘and her favourite exercise, yoga.’
‘Bollocks! You shouldn’t believe everything you read. If you ask me, it’s down to a combination of liposuction and bulimia. And yoga isn’t her favourite form of exercise either,’ he added.
‘Oh? What is?’ Kate asked.
‘High-impact star-fucking.’
Kate giggled.
‘Really, you should hear her and Rory going at it. Sometimes I think she’ll kill him. Mind you, their fights are just as bad. Sometimes it’s hard to tell whether they’re fighting or fucking.’
Kate nearly jumped out of her skin at a sudden high-pitched shriek.
‘Just get the bloody picture!’ Tessa yelled at the photographer.
‘Let’s go and take the piss.’ Owen extended a hand to Kate and pulled her up from her lounger. ‘I hope your grub’s as tasty as you are,’ he said, when she was standing beside him. He stared unabashedly into her cleavage as she tied her sarong.
He led her to the gazebo where Tessa was standing on one leg, holding the other out at a ninety-degree angle, trying to keep her balance and maintain a smile that radiated effortless composure. Fawn stood to the side, playing with her hair and adjusting her bikini top, while the blonde clones that Kate had seen in the pool earlier were on the sidelines, wielding cases of cosmetics and hairdressing tools – Tessa’s ‘team’, she supposed.
‘Take the fucking picture!’ Tessa ground out between clenched teeth. She was wobbling furiously and lost her balance as Simon clicked, landing on her arse with a thud. The blondesdarted over, like paramedics rushing to the scene of a car crash, clutching their kit-bags.
‘Um, maybe we could come back to that one, Tessa,’ Simon suggested. ‘Why don’t we do one of Fawn’s and you can have a breather?’
‘Okay,’ Tessa said sulkily, even more put out as Fawn went into a perfect downward stretch with consummate ease.
‘This one is called theDawg,’ Fawn explained to Simon, in her soft drawl, her clear, steady voice evidence of how effortless she found it.
‘The Dog?’ Owen called, grinning from the sidelines. ‘Nice of them to name one after you, Tessa.’
Tessa shot him a filthy look. Fortunately Fawn had her head down and could hide a smile. Tessa was her friend, but she could be a real pain in the ass sometimes.
‘That’s lovely, Fawn,’ Simon said, snapping enthusiastically.
‘Lovely,’ Owen murmured, admiring Fawn’s pert bottom.
Tessa was on the floor now, manoeuvring herself into a complicated knot, legs behind her head, knees at her ears.
‘What’s this one called? The Slapper?’ Owen giggled.
‘Or Arse over Tit?’ Kate whispered.
Tessa could be heard mumbling crossly, but whatever she said was muffled by her thighs.
