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Patty tried to look serious, but Tess could see she was bursting with joy.
‘He’s walking out to find a taxi with me. Although I’ve been invited back for coffee. Just coffee.’
‘Just coffee my arse.’
‘Tess, he’s a client,’ scolded Patty.
‘Was a client,’ corrected Tess. ‘I think the tables are about to turn and he’s going to be providing you with a very special service.’
Patty rolled her eyes with a smile. ‘Naughty girl. You’re not working for the London tabloids now.’
‘Well, the ice queen melteth,’ said Tess, rubbing her friend’s arm.
‘The ice que
en needs some fun, you were right.’
Tess watched Patty cross the room where Kevin helped her with her coat. He put his big hand on her shoulder, the other behind Jake’s head as he guided them out of the door. Suddenly Tess cringed, remembering her own drunken attempts to kiss Kevin and the way he had looked at her with such awkwardness and embarrassment. Tonight, with Patty, his face was shining with hope and happiness. What a curious beast sexual chemistry was, she smiled to herself – something you could not predict or force. Who knew what made two people completely wrong for each other, while other people fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle? On the face of it, she would not have put Patty, the sophisticated career woman, and Kevin, the down–to–earth handyman, together in a month of Sundays. And yet she had a strong feeling that, together, they’d found their Happy Ever After.
‘What do you think of Phil?’ whispered a voice at her elbow. She turned to see Jemma, an anxious look on her face. Tess smiled and patted her hand.
‘He’s cute. I knew I should have gone to Tahoe instead of Hawaii.’
‘Hey, hands off!’ grinned Jemma. ‘Oh, talking of which, I’ve got a present for you.’
‘Fantastic,’ said Tess. ‘Is Brad Pitt going to jump out of my birthday cake?’
‘Not even Brooke can swing that one,’ said Jemma, taking a piece of paper from her jeans pocket. Tess unfolded it. It was the printout of a photograph. In the picture, a glamorous brunette was leaning forward kissing a balding, thirty–something man wearing a long black overcoat. Glancing around the table, Tess pulled Jemma into a corner.
‘Who are they?’ she asked, sensing that this was important.
‘The brunette is Alicia Wintrop.’
Tess frowned. ‘Why do I know that name?’
‘She’s David Billington’s ex–girlfriend.’
Tess glanced over at David, who was laughing and feeding tiramisu to a protesting Brooke.
‘Guess why the Washington Spy ran the Olivia Martin story?’ said Jemma. ‘Alicia Wintrop is sleeping with this guy,’ she said, tapping the picture of the balding man. ‘The very married but easily distracted Benjamin Foley, CEO of Spy media. Which owns the Washington Spy.’
‘Shit! How do you find these things out?’
‘Elementary, my dear Tess,’ said Jemma. ‘I wondered who would have the balls to sanction a story like that, when they knew that they would be pissing off someone as powerful as the Billingtons? Only the proprietor, which made me wonder why he’d do such a crazy thing. So I followed Foley for a couple of days. He’s spent at least two afternoons at Alicia’s house in the Village in the last week alone.’
‘So you have Alicia’s address?’
‘She’s within spitting distance of our apartment.’
Tess grabbed Jemma’s face and kissed her. ‘Jem, you’re a genius!’
‘Steady on,’ laughed Jemma, ‘I’m saving myself for Phil.’
Tess heard a polite cough to her left.
‘Miss Garrett?’ said the waiter, hovering apologetically. ‘There is someone outside for you. I’ve told him your party is almost finished, but he asks if you can step out to speak to him for a moment?’
Tess glanced in bemusement at Jemma.
