Page 29

‘Not really. But I’m rich now, so who cares?’ Ashley said. She was immediately embarrassed. What a pathetic brag. She needed a redirection, fast. But why she chose the topic switch she did was a mystery. ‘So, how’s your love life?’

Molly gave a thin smile. ‘Casual and infrequent.’

‘Oh. No one special?’

‘Nope.’

‘I’m surprised.’

‘Well, finding a good one is tough. As you know.’

Ashley gave a rueful smile. ‘Ah. You’ve heard about my producer problems, then?’

‘She wasn’t your girlfriend?’ Molly asked coolly.

‘I guess. Briefly.’ Ashley didn’t know why she was playing it down like this. Reva had been a real girlfriend, albeit a terrible one.

The silence that followed was suffocating, but food arrived quickly for a small mercy. Ashley cut into her turbot carefully, while Molly systematically dismantled her gourmet burger, eyeing the single leaf of rocket inside it with deep suspicion.

Ashley swallowed a bite of fish that suddenly tasted like cardboard. She couldn’t stand being this bloody polite. She’d rather have argued with Molly.

But they didn’t do that anymore. So all Ashley could say was something true, yet mannerly.

‘The green suits you.’

Molly looked up from her fries, startled. ‘Thanks. It’s a bit tight. I feel like a sausage.’

That caught Ashley off guard, and she laughed wholeheartedly. And then she made the catastrophic mistake. ‘I missed you,’ she said without thinking.

Molly froze, a fry halfway to her mouth. She slowly put the fry back down on her plate. ‘Ashley,’ she said quietly. ‘Please don’t say things like that.’

Ashley’s stomach dropped. Oh god, she was angry. And she had every right to be. Absolute idiot. It wasn’t just a breach of the rules; it was an unfair, selfish thing to say on a fake date meant for public relations.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ashley said instantly, her face burning. She checked her watch. ‘We should go soon. It’s late, and Simon said he tipped off the photographers half an hour ago. We should get it over with.’

‘Right,’ Molly said, her voice completely flat. ‘The photos.’

Ashley threw down a credit card before the waiter could even ask, signalling for the bill with a desperate gesture. Within three minutes, they were standing in the dimly lit foyer, pulling on their coats. Ashley’s hands were shaking as she tied the belt of her trench coat.

‘Ready?’ Ashley asked, not looking at her.

‘Born ready,’ Molly muttered.

Ashley pushed the heavy oak door open, and it started: ‘Ashley! Over here!’

‘Molly! Are you and Ashley Malone in a relationship?’

The paparazzi were a small, aggressive pack of men in dark puffa jackets, their cameras raised like weapons.

Ashley felt the instinctual urge to duck her head, but Simon’s voice echoed in her mind: Smile. Look natural. She forced a soft, relaxed smile onto her face and, without thinking, reached out and slotted her fingers through Molly’s.

Molly’s hand flinched, then gripped back loosely.

‘A cab’s coming,’ Ashley whispered through her teeth, her smile fixed as she spotted the glowing orange ‘TAXI’ sign turning the corner.

The black cab pulled up to the curb with a light screech of brakes. Ashley moved first, pulling Molly along behind her. She slid onto the back, Molly jumping in after her.

‘Where to, girls?’