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‘I’ll leave the tickets behind the Resus desk for you before your shift ends tomorrow.’
And then, before she could answer, or say anything uncharacteristically stupid, Sol walked away. The way they probably both should have done ten minutes earlier.
CHAPTER THREE
‘THIS PLACE IS STUNNING,’ Anouk breathed as she gazed up at the huge sandstone arches that lined either side of the gala venue, and then up again to the breathtaking vaulted ceiling.
‘Isn’t it?’ Saskia demurred.
‘I feel positively shabby by comparison.’
‘Well, you don’t look it.’ Saskia laughed and Anouk wondered if she’d imagined the tension she’d noted in her friend over the past few months. ‘You look like you’re sparkling, and it isn’t just the new dress. Although I’m glad you let me talk you into buying it.’
‘I’m glad I let you talk me into buying it, too,’ admitted Anouk, smoothing her hands over the glorious fabric.
It was amazing how much confidence the dress was giving her, from its fitted body and plunging sweetheart neckline to its mermaid hemline. Three strings of jewelled, off-the-shoulder straps swished over her upper arms whilst the royal-blue colour seemed to complement her blonde hair perfectly.
‘You look totally Hollywood.’
‘Don’t.’ Anouk shuddered, knowing Saskia was the one person she could be honest with. ‘I think I’ve had enough of Hollywood to last me a lifetime.’
‘Me, too. But still, the look is good.’
‘Maybe I should have been in more festive colours.’ She glanced at Saskia’s own, stunning emerald dress, which had looked gorgeous on the rack, but on her friend’s voluptuously feminine body seemed entirely bespoke, complementing Saskia’s dark skin tone to perfection.
‘I look like a Christmas tree.’ Her friend laughed, before waving towards the glorious eighteen-foot work of art, complete with elegant decorations, that dominated the entrance. ‘Although if I looked that amazing I’d be happy.’
‘You look even better, and you know it.’ Anouk laughed. ‘You’ve only just walked in and you’ve turned a dozen heads.’
‘They’re probably looking at you, and, either way, I don’t care. Tonight, Anouk, we’re going to relax and enjoy ourselves.’
‘We are?’
‘We are.’ Saskia was firm, taking a champagne flute from the tray of a passing waiter, her beam of thanks making the poor guy fall for her instantly. ‘Starting with this.’
She passed the drink to Anouk.
‘You still feeling sick?’ Anouk frowned.
‘Yeah.’ Saskia pulled a rueful face but Anouk didn’t miss the flush of colour staining her cheeks.
If she hadn’t known better she might have suspected that Saskia was pregnant. But that surely wasn’t possible? Up until ten months
ago Saskia had been engaged and, for all Saskia’s confidence and effervescent personality, Anouk knew her ex-fiancé had been only the second man her friend had ever slept with.
But he hadn’t been as loyal, and Anouk had never really taken to him. Whenever she’d looked at him she’d seen yet another playboy—just like her mother’s lovers.
Just like Sol, a voice whispered in her head.
‘Relax.’ Saskia nudged her gently. ‘Enjoy your drink.’
‘I don’t really like...’ Anouk began, but her friend shushed her.
‘You do tonight.’
Anouk balked.
She still wasn’t sure what had happened at that nightclub. She had the vaguest memory of starting to relax and trying to have a little fun, and then a sense of panic. After that it wasn’t clear, but she’d ended up back home, in her own bed, alone.
