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“Tell me about your pussy, Gemma. Now.”
“Yes, I’m sore. Yes, it hurts. Yes, I want you in twenty minutes, I want you to open me up where it hurts and make me feel all better again.”
“Fuck, yes, dirty girl. Call me when you’re ready, I’ll be right over.”
Crazy. Fucking crazy. But I was still smiling when I let myself in, bouncing on through the living room to check Tessa’s schedule. Except I didn’t need to. Loud dramatic sobs, and Tessa’s soothing voice sounded loud from the kitchen.
“It’ll blow over, I’m sure it will.”
“No it won’t! I’m a laughing stock, a big, stupid joke.”
Chelsea.
I groaned inside.
I joined them in the kitchen, and sure enough there she was. Sat up on the worktop with her eyes screwed shut, her face a blotchy mess of smeared make-up.
“Shit, what’s happened?”
Tessa answered my question while Chelsea went in for another round of sobbing.
“The papers have photos of Jason Redfern leaving the club, alone. His wife says he was home with her from two a.m.”
I fought back the urge to say I told you so. It’s never attractive, not even when it’s warranted.
“Oh dear.” I congratulated myself on my lame-arsed response.
“They all hate me!” Chelsea cried. “Everyone’s laughing at me.”
“I’m sure you’re not the first,” I said. “And you certainly won’t be the last.”
“My career is over. Blown. Finished. I’ll have to crawl back to Hatfield with my tail between my legs.”
Tessa stroked her hair like a real mother hen. “That’s a bit dramatic.”
“I will! Reporters are outside my door and I had to turn my phone off it was ringing so much.” Her eyes widened in horror. “What if they want their money back?! I don’t have it!”
“We’ll deal with that if it happens,” I said.
She half-snotted, half-sobbed into her hands. “You don’t hate me?”
I rolled my eyes. “No. Of course I don’t hate you. I think you’ve been an idiot, but we all have our moments.”
Tessa locked me in an apologetic stare. “I’ve got to go to work, I’m sorry. I said Chelsea could have my room tonight.”
My heart sank. Shit.
“I’ll go,” Chelsea bawled. “If you don’t want me here.”
“It’s not that,” I said. “I had plans.” I pulled her into a hug, after all, that’s what friends do. “Of course you can stay.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I’m really grateful.”
I damn well hoped so.
***
Jason
