Cupcakes and Christmas: The Carrington’s Collection: Cupcakes at Carrington’s, Me and Mr. Carrington, Christmas at Carrington’s (40 page)

‘Yes I would.’ She follows Eddie towards the lift, and then stops abruptly. ‘Maximillian! What have you done with my little Maxi? Help me. My dog has been stolen,’ she shrieks to the whole shop floor. Thankfully, the chauffeur reappears quickly and calm is restored with little Maxi leaping into his mistress’s arms and licking her actual face all over. Yuk!

I hand the Carrington’s carrier bag to Adrianna – desperately wishing my trembling hands weren’t quite so obvious.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she says, quietly. ‘My mother gets a little … animated at times.’
That’s one way of putting it I suppose
. I smile politely, wishing I were anywhere but here right now. ‘She can’t help herself, I suppose. We’ve known the Carrington family for generations and she’s always had it in mind that Lucia and Tom would end up together so when Tom invited Lucia to meet him in Milan to …’ Adrianna’s mobile rings. ‘Oh, will you excuse me please?’ I nod and force a smile in response. She looks at the screen before switching the phone off. ‘They can wait. Yes, where was I?’

‘Lucia?’ I just about manage.

‘Oh yes, Lucia is truly stunning,’ she explains, rolling her eyes nonchalantly. ‘Makes me feel positively ugly. She’s always been Mother’s favourite.’ Adrianna laughs as if it’s a mere detail, a family joke almost, but oh my God, if Lucia makes Adrianna feel ugly then I might as well shove a sack over my head right now and be done with it because from where I’m standing, she’s drop-dead gorgeous. ‘Thank you so much for this.’ She swings the carrier bag in the air. ‘A true bargain.’

And after slipping the limited edition Dior bag back into the crook of arm, she follows the Countess towards the personal shopping suite while I place both hands on the counter to calm myself, silently praying that the tears stinging in my eyes don’t actually spill out on to my cheeks.

Crushed!

That’s the only way to describe how I feel this morning. And exhausted. I hardly slept last night after letting my mind spiral, going over and over everything that’s happened with Tom. I even switched on the lamp on my nightstand at around 3am – a particularly low point – to read back through our email exchange. Nothing. No clues. Everything points to him being one hundred percent interested in me, so then why am I now convinced that our long distance flirtation is just a dalliance because he’s bored? A distraction. Light entertainment to ease his hectic schedule while he waits for Lucia to join him in Milan …

I should have known it was too good to be true – that I was punching above my weight with Tom. Mrs Grace even warned me to watch my back, but I didn’t, I let my heart do a running bodyslam, unable to get him out of my head from that first moment he appeared before me … And it all makes sense now, because he still hasn’t replied to my last email, sent yesterday afternoon, and he’s usually right there, inboxing me just a few minutes later.

‘Cheer up babe.’ It’s Annie, with a bag of Haribo strawbs in her hand. ‘Take them and go hide in the alcove,’ she says, on seeing my face.

‘I’m fine. Honestly,’ I lie. ‘It’s not as if we were actually dating or anything …’

‘Hmm, well if sweets won’t make you smile, then this will.’ Annie stashes the strawbs under the counter and pulls out her mobile.

‘What is it?’

‘Only that obscenely expensive limited edition Dior handbag.’

‘You took a picture?’

‘Sure did, when that Countess was carrying on. Nobody noticed, and then I tweeted it – my mentions have gone mental,’ she laughs.

‘Let me see.’ Annie hands me her phone and sure enough, her mentions and retweets are stratospheric.

‘See what happens when you mention Italian royalty. And I must have at least twenty new followers – fashionistas, designers, journalists and stuff, they can’t get enough of that handbag …’ She tosses her hair back and is just about to stuff a Marc Jacobs tote with paper in preparation for replenishing the shelves after last night’s bumper sale, when Jodie from HR appears in front of us with Denise from Home Electricals standing next to her.

‘Georgie and Annie, you’re wanted upstairs immediately,’ Jodie orders, sounding like a robot.

‘But why?’ Annie asks.

‘All will be explained, you must go right away. Denise will cover your section, Georgie – with my help if she gets a sudden rush.’ Denise beams and instantly reaches across our counter to take the stuffing from Annie, while Jodie tentatively positions herself near the till with a look that suggests she’d rather be naked on the bandstand singing a Rihanna song complete with raunchy dance moves than have to serve an actual customer.

‘Well, I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s going on. I know my rights,’ Annie says, folding her arms and sticking her bottom lip out.

‘Come on, let’s just go and find out what this is all about,’ I say, wanting to get it over with. The sooner we go, the sooner I can escape to the café for a caffeine and cake hit while I go over in my head everything that’s happened with Tom for the trillionth time.

We arrive on the executive floor, and Amy, the HR manager and queen of the poker face and dead-eye look, is waiting for us just inside the security door. She presses the chrome keypad on the wall to let us in.

‘Just tell the truth, then apologise, and I’m sure everything will be fine,’ Amy says, marching us down the long corridor and through an anteroom outside Tom’s office. I discretely wipe the sweat from my hands on the sides of my trousers and attempt to bouf up my hair – what if Tom is in there, come back early to sort out this problem? And I didn’t even bother with my Velcro rollers last night, I was that hacked off. I don’t want to see him under these circumstances, not when I’ve obviously done something wrong … Why else would Annie and I have been summoned to the executive floor without explanation? Amy looks as if she’s about to combust with anxiety, she’s twitching that much. And after finding out about Lucia, I don’t even know where I stand with Tom, if anywhere at all. Talk about awks!

The door to Tom’s office opens.

‘Here they are! The saboteurs!’

The Countess is in the middle of the room pointing her cane at Annie and me. Adrianna is standing in the corner by Tom’s desk with her head bowed, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, and Eddie is sitting in an armchair with a notebook and pen. He glances up and when the others aren’t looking, he very subtly gives me an
oh shiiiiiit
look in solidarity.

‘Sack them! I demand they be fired immediately.’ The Countess strides towards us. ‘Which one of you is it?’ Annie and I stare at her, goggle-eyed and speechless. A nauseous feeling swirls in the pit of my stomach – Tom is going to hate me now, the Countess is a personal family friend after all.

‘Err, I’m not sure we know what this is about,’ I venture, praying it isn’t about Annie’s stupid tweet, and wishing Amy would step up and manage this nightmare situation, but instead she’s chewing the skin around her left thumb.

‘Gypsy Tart! Which one of you? Own up this instance.’ Oh God!

‘It’s me.’ Annie steps forward boldly. ‘My Twitter name. It’s just a laugh, I’m a Traveller you see—’ she tries to explain, but the Countess cuts her off.

‘I don’t care what you are. I only care that you have destroyed my daughter’s career. Ruined everything.’

Adriana sobs loudly and I instinctively step towards her.

‘Please don’t cry,’ I say quietly. ‘We’re really—’

‘Not her!’ The Countess spits. ‘My other daughter. The talented one.’ There’s another sob from Adrianna and I sooo want to thump her mother. Instead I cough before taking control.

‘Can somebody please explain what the problem is here? Amy?’ I turn to her, and she reluctantly pipes up, her neck all blotchy.

‘It seems that the picture you tweeted, Annie, has caused quite a stir.’

‘A stir?’ The Countess butts in. ‘It’s a little more than a stir, it’s a catastrophe. You showed Lucia’s exclusive piece to the whole world.’ She waves her free hand in the air dramatically. ‘There are already fakes to buy online.’

I’m fed up with this charade. Annie hasn’t done anything wrong. OK, she shouldn’t have mentioned names when tweeting about the Dior bag, but since when was it a crime to share a picture of a gorge handbag? And demanding we be sacked for it, well … Just as I open my mouth to protest, the door swings open.

OH MY GOD.

‘What’s going on?’ It’s Tom. And he looks even hotter than our last FaceTime call. His real tan is now a dark, rich toffee colour, and his hair is a little longer, the curls messier than before. I quickly close my mouth on realising that it’s still hanging open. My stomach flips and my pulse races but the feeling quickly evaporates when a woman who looks as if she’s just sauntered in from an exclusive Vogue photo-shoot, and without the need for airbrushing, glides in behind Tom. She’s about six foot tall with big glossy hair that hangs in waves down her back.

‘Lucia! Thank heavens you’re here …’ The Countess clears her throat as if she’s relishing in the showdown that’s about to unfold.

‘Why, what’s up? And wow, we weren’t expecting a welcome party, were we Tom?’ Lucia laughs pleasantly, smiling around the room and I instantly want to hate her, but I can’t, she seems really nice, bubbly and fun. Tom looks directly at me but I study the pattern on the carpet instead.

‘These ridiculous shop girls …’ the Countess continues, making me bristle, ‘have plastered one of your exclusive designs all over the world wide web.’
Who even says that? And oh purlease, don’t tell me Lucia designs for Dior
…
In addition to being the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in real life, she also has my dream job. Some people have all the luck!
‘That’s right. One of them … this, err … gypsy girl or whatever she calls herself,’ she flicks a finger in Annie’s direction, ‘took it upon herself to put a picture of your latest masterpiece, the gold keychain, on to Twitter. And completely ruined the surprise that is the essence of your new collection to be revealed exclusively in Carrington’s
next month
.’ She finishes with a flourish before clasping her chest like she’s the leading lady in a Shakespearean tragedy.

‘I’m so sorry, Lu. It’s my fault really.’ Adrianna looks up. ‘I put the keychain on my handbag when I came to the store last night and—’

‘Both of them should be sacked,’ the Countess spits.

‘But it’s not Georgie’s fault,’ Annie interjects.

‘Well, she’s the supervisor and should keep you in line. Sack the pair of them!’

‘OK, that’s enough. I’m sure it can be sorted out,’ Tom steps in.

‘Of course it can. Honestly Mother, from the sounds of it …’ Lucia pauses. ‘Sorry, I don’t know your name?’ she asks, politely.

‘Annie.’

‘Thank you. I think Annie has done me a favour, Mother. My office called just before we boarded the plane and pre-orders are phenomenal, and surely an ‘exclusive glimpse’ of my new range of key chains is a good thing. I’d love to see the tweet.’ Annie hesitates, before pulling her phone from her pocket to show Lucia. ‘Fantastic, and well done you for mentioning the family name.’ Annie beams. ‘Best advertisement ever, and so funny.’ Lucia laughs. ‘I bet my competitors and critics are assuming it was a deliberate stunt. Oh well, keep them on their toes …’

‘Lucia darling, tell me your news?’ the Countess says, flicking on a simpering voice and totally ignoring what just happened as she attempts to marshal her overly-Botoxed face into a smile position – the result is a kind of freaky grimace. I hold my breath and bite my bottom lip. Please please please don’t let this be what I think it is …

‘Well, Tom and I have done the deal as they say …’ Lucia smiles in Tom’s direction, and I will myself not to cry. Oh God, I blooming knew it.

‘Daaaaarling, I’m so delighted. Come here, let me give you a kiss. And my new son-to-be, Tom!’

‘What do you mean? Mother have you been at the bubbles again?’ Lucia asks, looking at Adrianna for confirmation.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, it isn’t even eleven o’clock.’ The Countess sniffs. ‘Stop teasing me, when are you and Tom getting married?’

I shift from one foot to other. This is hideous. Tom steps forward and gently places a hand on Lucia’s arm. I want to run away. The beautiful people, the happy couple together. NO. So I was just a distraction, a dalliance, after all …

‘Paola, your daughter, Lucia, is an amazing woman,’ Tom starts and I resist the urge to scream out loud. ‘Adrianna too, but—’

‘Oh, this is ridiculous,’ Lucia jumps in. ‘Don’t be silly Mother. I’ve been telling you this for years … Tom is like a brother.’ She shakes her head. ‘Besides, he has a girlfriend.’

He does?

WHO IS SHE?

I glance at Tom.

‘Paola, meet Georgie,’ Tom says, moving closer to me, and the Countess’s jaw actually drops open.

‘Oh wow. Georgie I’ve heard
so
much about you,’ Lucia says, warmly. ‘This man is smitten.’ She laughs and slaps Tom on the arm before taking me by the shoulders and giving me three air kisses. Stunned and delirious, I catch Eddie smiling and nodding his head in my periphery vision. ‘And honey, you must come to my wedding next summer.’

I nod and grin like a looper as I try to take it all in, instantly shoving any doubts I had about Tom from my head. Lucia is a designer! And one of Carrington’s suppliers. Of course she is! I do an almost-crying-but-not-quite sort of laugh in relief. No wonder Tom invited her to meet up in Sicily, it was for business that’s all. Thank you, God. THANK YOU.

‘Wedding? What wedding? I thought you said …’ The Countess barks.

‘That’s right Mother. It’s all arranged, I’m marrying Massimo.’

‘Over my dead body!’

‘Then so be it,’ Lucia responds in a very breezy voice, before going over to Adrianna. ‘And you’ll be my bridesmaid, won’t you sweetheart?’ She puts an arm around her sister and smiles kindly. ‘Although on second thoughts, I don’t want you upstaging me on my big day with your gloriously natural beauty …’ Adrianna manages a watery smile before the Countess sweeps from the room in disgust, instructing them both to follow. Lucia rolls her eyes and carries on talking to her sister.

‘And I’ll be needing you with me when I’m living with Massimo in his castle. You’ll have your own wing of course.’ Adrianna’s eyes light up at the prospect of escaping her overbearing mother. Lucia loops her arm through Adrianna’s as they leave the room.