Between The Sheets (9 page)

'Ow!'

Stumbling into the corridor, Gus almost fell over a girl lying in a heap on the floor. 'Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?'

'Yes, you did,' she mumbled, easing her sandal off to reveal a bloody toe.

'I am so sorry,' he said again. 'Here, let me help you. Sit down over here and I'll go and see if I can find you a bandage.'

'There's no need,' the girl said, but her eyes were scrunched up in pain and a tear was sliding down her cheek.

'Stop arguing,' Gus told her and was turning to leave when a waitress approached him.

'Can I help you, sir?'

'Yes, please. Do you have a first-aid kit? This lady has cut her foot.'

'Of course, I'll go and get it.'

The waitress disappeared and Gus crouched down to take a closer look at the injury. The wound wasn't deep but the skin had been dragged back where her foot had got caught under the door. He looked up into the girl's face. 'I am really terribly sorry.'

'I wish you'd stop apologizing,' she said faintly, trying to smile. 'It was an accident.'

'I'm Gus, Gus Johnson.'

'Yes, I know. I'm Terry Andrews, I work for the
Daily Journal.'

He winced slightly. Trust him to injure a member of the press. 'Are you here to cover the show?'

She nodded. 'Yes, although I don't know how I'm going to do it now. I'm supposed to get at least four interviews and I've got nothing yet. My photographer said to stand near the door, that I was sure to nab someone.'

Gus grinned. 'Well, I suppose he got that right.'

The waitress reappeared with a damp towel, some antiseptic cream and a large plaster.

'Thank you.' Gus nodded at the girl,, then gently dabbed the cut before applying the cream and carefully sticking on the plaster. 'How's that?'

'Fine, thank you, Dr Johnson.' Terry smiled as she slipped her sandal back on and went to stand up. 'Ouch!' She grimaced in pain as she put weight on her foot.

He lowered her back into the chair. 'I think you'd better stay here for a while.'

'But I have a job to do,' she wailed. 'My boss will kill me if I go back with nothing.'

Gus thought for a moment. She seemed genuinely upset; much too nice to be employed by a rag like the
Daily Journal.
'Tell you what, why don't I arrange for a few people to come out to you to be interviewed and then we'll get you into a taxi home?'

She brightened. 'Could you do that?'

'It's my show,' he reminded her with a wink.

Terry laughed. 'Great.'

'So who would you like to interview?'

Immediately Terry rattled off four names and, with a sly smile, added his on the end.

He grimaced. 'I suppose I can hardly refuse.'

'I'll be gentle,' she promised with a delighted grin.

'I'm sure,' he said drily, before nodding towards the waitress still hovering in the background. 'Would you like a cup of tea or coffee, or maybe something stronger?'

'Coffee would be great, thanks.'

Gus gave the order and asked the waitress to add it to his bill. 'Right, I'll go and see who I can find. The second half will be starting in a few minutes, so you might have to wait until the show is over.'

Terry settled back in her chair. 'No problem, I'm used to hanging around. It comes with the job.'

After having a word with the producer of the show, Gus made his way back to his table, stopping off to murmur in the ears of some of the people Terry wanted to interview.

'Where on earth have you been?' Ashling hissed, when he eventually returned to his seat. 'Tom's hopping mad.'

Gus leaned forward to look at his furious partner and winked. 'Talking to the press.'

Ashling's eyes widened. 'You're kidding.'

'No, but you don't have to worry. Everything's under control.' Gus settled down to watch the show, his mind still on Terry Andrews. Who'd have thought he would ever look forward to a press interview?

The
Daily Journal
photographer crossed the reception to Terry's side, a broad grin on his face. 'Well, you're some player, I'll give you that.'

'What do you mean?' Terry frowned.

'Gus Johnson.' He tapped his camera. 'I got the whole thing. I can see the caption now.
AUTHOR'S HUBBY
FINDS NEW HEROINE
. Nice work.'

'You can't use any of those shots,' she warned him. 'He's off now arranging interviews for me and he's even agreed to talk to me himself.'

Stan's eyes widened. 'About his marriage break-down?'

Terry smiled. 'Well, I hadn't planned on discussing the weather.'

'Oh, Ian, I just can't believe it!'

The PR man had phoned Sylvie first thing and when Iris told him the PA wouldn't be in until lunchtime, he'd begged the housekeeper to get in touch with Sylvie and ask her to call him ASAP. After a brief conversation, Sylvie had charged down to the nearest newsagent and now sat with the
Daily Journal
spread out in front of her. 'I can't believe it,' she said again. 'I never thought he'd do something like this.'

'You don't know he did anything,' Ian told her. 'It's just a photograph. It may be totally innocent.'

'But it says that they were together all evening.'

'As my father always says, "Paper never refuses ink.'"

'Pardon?'

'It could be all lies,' Ian translated.

'Oh. Still, it doesn't matter. Dana will still be devastated if she sees it.'

'Which is why I've called. You must make sure she does.'

'What?' Sylvie shrieked. 'Are you mad?'

'No, just trying to do my job. Look, Sylvie, if Dana doesn't pull out of this stupor soon you could be out of a job. You must realize that.'

'So?' Sylvie said, reluctantly.

'So, perhaps this photo is the kick-start she needs,' he said gently. 'I know it might hurt her initially, Sylvie, but maybe it will make her come to her senses.'

'Are you saying we should be cruel to be kind?'

'She's going to hear about this sooner or later. It would be best if she heard it from you.'

'What?' Sylvie shrieked again.

'Call her,' he urged. 'If you don't, I will and I know which she'd prefer.'

Iris was halfway up the stairs with Dana's coffee when the phone rang. She paused, wondering if she should retrace her steps and answer it, and then realized that Dana already had. When she knocked and went into the bedroom, Dana was sitting in the armchair by the window with the phone in her hand.

'Good morning, Dana, how are you today?' Iris did a double take. 'What is it? Has something happened.'

'Have you got the
Daily Journal
there?'

Iris pulled the papers from under her arm and looked through them. 'Yes, here it is.'

Dana snatched it from her and flicked through it until she came to a two-page spread of coloured photographs. They were all of the fashion show in the Shelbourne the previous evening.

Iris, who was looking over her shoulder, smiled. 'Look, it's Mr and Mrs Cleary!'

Dana nodded dumbly. It was a nice photo of Ashling but Tom looked slightly stern at her side.

'And Mr Johnson — Oh!' Iris pulled up short.

Dana froze as she, too, saw the photographs — three of them. They showed Gus in a variety of poses with an attractive young blonde. In one of them, his arm was around her. In the next, her hand was on his arm and she was looking up into his face. In the last photo, they were walking away from the camera, arm in arm. Dana's heart beat wildly in her chest as she stared at the photos and then ran her eye down through the text until she spotted her husband's name.

Gus Johnson, who's been lying low since his split from his wife, prolific author Dana De Lacey, seems to have found someone to help him through this difficult time. Friends reported that he spent most of the evening with the beautiful young blonde and had eyes only for her.

'I'm sure it was completely innocent,' Iris said with conviction.

'I'd like to be alone,' Dana said quietly.

Iris put a hand out to her. 'Mrs Johnson—'

'Don't call me that!' Dana cried, tearfully.

'I'm sorry, but I'm sure—'

'Please! Please, Iris, just leave me.'

When the door had closed after the housekeeper, Dana threw down the paper and stared at the phone. Was there any point in calling Gus now? It seemed he had moved on. Of course, it could be completely innocent. Women always flocked to Gus on social occasions like this. Everyone kissed and hugged these days. Her eyes were drawn to the photo where she could clearly see his hand on the small of the girl's back. It was a gentle — almost intimate — gesture. Coupled with the warm expression in his eyes — which was clear even in this fuzzy photo — it was enough to worry Dana. 'Bastard didn't wait long,' she muttered bitterly, wondering whether he'd only just met her or whether she was the reason he'd left. Was she, in fact, his date last night? No. Ashling had said he wasn't seeing anyone. Still, it was always possible that Gus had brought her along and not bothered to warn his business partner.

Dana picked up the paper again and studied the picture of Tom and Ashling. Yes, Tom definitely looked pissed off about something. Dana stared at the phone and considered her options. She could phone Gus and pretend that she hadn't seen the paper. She could phone Ashling and ask what exactly had happened last night. Or, she sighed, flopping back in the chair, she could do nothing. Her eyes filled up as the familiar feeling of depression started to engulf her. Gus had a new woman. Her career was going down the tubes. What was the point in going on?

She could almost hear Judy's voice in her head. Fight! She dashed the tears from her cheeks and took a deep breath. It was up to her if she fell apart. It was up to her to show Gus that she didn't care. It was up to her to get up off her arse and get on with life. Going to the mirror, she studied herself critically. Since her visit to the beauty salon on Saturday she was looking a lot better. Her hair was cut in a shorter, blunt bob. Her skin had a glow that had been lacking for some time. Her eyebrows were plucked into a perfect arch. But the eyes they framed were troubled and sad. They gave everything away. Still, Dana managed a wry smile, that's why God had invented sunglasses.

Striding into her dressing room, Dana rummaged through her clothes until she found her white linen trouser suit. Next she called Sylvie back, taking deep breaths as she waited for her PA to answer.

'Hello?'

Dana forced herself to sound bright and breezy. 'Hi, Sylvie. Fancy going shopping?'

'I can't believe it! Thank you, God! Where is she now?'

Sylvie laughed at Ian's delight. 'We're having lunch in Les Frères Jacques and washing it down with Moet. She's just nipped out to the loo.'

'So she saw the photos?'

'I rang her, like you said — I have to tell you that wasn't easy — but she hasn't mentioned the photos since we met up.' Sylvie shot an anxious look at the door. 'But I'm sure she has. She's done up to the nines and obviously putting on a show.'

'You see? Didn't I tell you it would work?'

'Well, let's hope it stays working this time.'

'You need to play along, make it a great day and boost her confidence and ego as much as you can,' he urged. 'Don't let her drink too much, though, or she'll get depressed and end up back in that bloody bedroom again.'

'I'm not a childminder, Ian.'

Ian laughed. 'Oh, like you're having such a miserable time.'

'I suppose I can just about cope.' Sylvie smiled as she took a sip of her champagne.

'You need to keep her on the go all day,' Ian continued. 'Don't give her time to think. Take her to an uber-trendy bar later. Let me know where first and I'll make sure someone's there to snap you. Be her best buddy, Sylvie, do whatever it takes to get her back on the straight and narrow. Tell her that being seen out socializing is the best way to let Gus and everyone else know that she's over him. The only way to save face.'

'This could backfire on us,' Sylvie pointed out. 'If she starts going out every night, she might be too tired and hung-over to write.'

'We'll worry about that next week. For now, let's just concentrate on keeping her out of that bedroom.'

The door opened and Dana strode back into the restaurant, receiving several appreciative stares from men and envious ones from women.

'Gotta go, she's coming,' Sylvie whispered.

'Everything okay?' Dana asked.

Sylvie grinned. 'Oh, yes.'

'What?'

'Everyone in the place is watching you.'

Dana frowned. 'Do they recognize me, do you think?'

'Maybe, but I think it's just the fact that you're looking gorgeous today. I love your hair like that.'

Dana put up a self-conscious hand to her bob. 'I went to the beauty salon on Saturday.'

'Well, you look great.'

'Thanks.' Dana nodded towards the phone in Sylvie's hand. 'Problems?'

Sylvie shrugged. 'I just checked the answering machine and Gretta is looking for you again.'

Dana sighed. 'Wouldn't you think after eighteen books I'd be entitled to take a break?'

'She's worried because you won't take her calls,' Sylvie said gently. 'If you talked to her and Walter, they'd back off. You're scaring them because you've never behaved like this before,'

'I've never been dumped by my husband before,' Dana reminded her.

'I know it's hard, Dana, but try not to shut us all out. We're really worried about you.'

'Worried that the gravy train's about to stop, you mean.'

Sylvie reddened. 'That's not fair.'

Dana grasped her PA's hand. 'Oh, Sylvie, I'm sorry! You know I didn't mean you. But Gretta is as tough as nails, and while Wally is a great friend, he's still a businessman with a job to do.'

'Tell me about it,' Sylvie murmured, having been on the end of several lengthy phone calls.

Dana smiled. 'But they can all wait for another week or so. I've had a lousy time and I plan to make up for it. My husband obviously isn't sitting home, crying into his pillow.'

'You saw the photos, then?'

Dana nodded. 'Do you know who she is?'

Sylvie shook her head.