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“I’m pretty sure they would be,” Jeremy said with an air of mystery to his answer.
“Fingers crossed.”
We ate the rest of our food in relative silence, but I couldn’t stop checking him out, and I caught him sending me furtive glances more than once.
When he was finished, Jeremy cleared his throat and carried his empty plate to the sink in my bathroom. “What if I said I might be able to help you get in contact with Mad Lurchers?”
I swallowed my last mouthful. “That would be fantastic. You know them?”
Jeremy didn’t answer me directly. Instead, he headed toward my apartment door and paused by it. “Leave it with me.”
Before I could question him further, he was gone.
The Lemon Square was a hole-in-the-wall, easy-to-miss music club in Ealing, an outer western suburb of London, and it was where I’d tracked down a beautiful folk artist.
Settling into the front row with a martini, I shrugged off my woolen wrap and allowed the transcendent sound of the singer’s voice to wash over me. Isidora Salinas lit up the stage as her fingers strummed her acoustic guitar. Dressed in dark blue tights, tasseled blue-gray ankle boots, a white peasant dress, and a light blue overlay embroidered with delicate, dark blue flowers, she was like a fairy as she flitted around the stage and sang her heart out.
Having obtained permission to waive the ‘no recording’ rule, I set up the video recorder on my cell phone and began filming Isidora. Estate Styles had some serious sway. As soon as I mentioned my mission, Miss Salinas’ manager was more than happy for me to do so.
No matter how I tried to stay objective, I found myself tapping my feet to the tune. I wrote notes about her appearance, music, and ability to capture the crowd’s interest. She was mesmerizing, and I was sure she’d be a great fit for our fashion show.
“Estate Styles?Are you kidding me? Why would I want anything to do with a company who sees fit to steal wool from sheep for their overpriced clothing?”
All I could do was blink. “Uh, what? But sheep need to be shorn. It’s cruel not to do so.” I knew this from first-hand experience, given my father had raised a few sheep on his and Mom’s farm in Wayborough Valley.
“Would you like to have your hair cut short against your will? So, what do you have to say for yourself for representing such a horrid industry?” Miss Salinas folded her arms firmly across her chest and glared at me.
I matched her stance. “Personally, I think you’re out of touch and misinformed. I’d pay a little less attention to PETA, honey.” I picked up my purse. “And for goodness sake, grab a decent meal on the way home. You look more than a little iron deficient.”Wow.I had no idea where my mean-girl routine had came from. I hadn’t dished that out in years and was proud of myself.
“Good show, my dear.” The words were accompanied by clapping.
Narrowing my eyes, I slowly turned around and found the one and only Adele smirking at me.
“I think it’s safe to say that vile creature is permanently etched off the Estate Styles’ performer list.”
“Not even a hint of her left.” I winked and pulled her into a warm hug. “Adele, I’ve missed your face behind the Estate Styles’ reception desk each morning.” I stepped back to look her up and down. Her dark blue dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and she looked gorgeous with her hair in a chignon which was pulled slightly to the side of her head. “You look incredible as always.”
“Well, you know, one must always dress up for a visit to London.”
“What brings you here?”I asked.
“I’m taking a breather from Christmas shopping. London is the best for it, no matter how hectic it gets. Plus, it gives me a weekend away from all the madness at home.”
“How’s your brother doing?”
She sighed.“Not great. The lad needs a strict routine, and the split has knocked it out of balance. But Mum and I are succeeding in distracting him with holiday chores. He loves decorating and baking Christmas biscuits. I’d say the whole shire will have tasted some biscuits by the end of the season.”
It took me a moment to remember that over here,biscuitsmeantcookies,unlike back home. “Well, if you want to send a batch to someone, I’d be a happy recipient.”
Adele winked. “I’ll keep that in mind. Have you got time for a coffee? You know… somewhere that’s not here? I’d love to catch up.”
Would I ever.I needed a friend right now. “Of course,” I said with enthusiasm.
“Great. I know the perfect place.”
Adele’s coffee-marked lips parted in an “O,” and her eyes almost bugged out of her skull. Tapping the corner of my mouth, I tipped my head to her with my eyebrows raised, and she hurriedly dabbed at her lips with a napkin as she set her mug back down onto the tabletop. I’d just told her about everything that was bothering me. About Ruben, about Augustus, the arrangement that had transpired because of my attraction to the viscount that I felt had sprung from missing my boyfriend, and now the fear of the British media’s scrutiny on top of it all and how it had ruined the press junket.
After a time, she finally spoke, “Wow, haven’t you been a busy one? Never mind the paps.Iwant all the juicy details. What’s it like having two men?”
