Last Resort (10 page)

"Perhaps Marielle's right: we should save it for the office."

"As you like/ David responded, seeming either not to notice Marielle's hand or happy just to enjoy it.

"What were you doing in Miami?"

Penny enquired as he turned back to Marielle.

He shrugged.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that/ he answered.

"Have you ever been to Miami?"

"No."

But Marielle had and once again Penny was cut out of the conversation.

Penny wasn't sure whether there was any real malice on David's part, maybe, she tried comforting herself, it was just a total oblivion to everything beyond Marielle's figure-hugging dress that clearly defied the wearing of underwear. Her nipples were so prominent that even Penny found her eyes repeatedly drawn to them. Turning away to gaze absently at the other diners and the various knick-knacks on the walls, Penny began asking herself again how she was going to handle this, for as David's so-called equal partner she must not allow herself to be treated like a nonentity.

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The situation continued for several more minutes, during which time Penny persevered with the struggle to control her temper. They appeared so impervious to her discomfort and so engrossed in their flirtation that she began to wonder if by some strange quirk of the atmosphere she had managed to become invisible. Their heads were so close together as they murmured and laughed and curled their fingers around each other's that Penny could feel the colour blazing a route to her cheeks. But whatever happened she was determined to hang on to her temper. She wouldn't, mustn't, allow herself to make a scene that might be construed as jealousy. She watched Marielle's fingers slide along the back of David's hand and bury themselves inside the sleeve of his thick, navy sweater; then, lifting her eyes to his face, which appeared more handsome than ever as the firelight bathed his skin with a warm glow and made his smile impossibly white, Penny found herself wondering if there was some kind of conspiracy going on here. Were they intentionally trying to put her in her place, to make her feel of such lowly importance that she might just give up and go back to London for good?

Tearing her eyes away, she felt a great swell of resentment rise within her.

It was going to take a damned sight more than their sordid flirting to get her to abandon ship now. After all, she was the one who'd put it together so far, so the hell was she going to hand it over to them.

Looking up as the waiter handed her a dessert menu, Penny detected a light of sympathy in his eyes, which was almost too much to bear. But, with a warming smile of reassurance, she said,

"Cogito, ergo sum."

"What?"

Marielle said, running her eyes down the menu.

"Descartes/ David enlightened her, his eyes laughing as he turned them to Penny's.

"I think, therefore I exist,'

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he translated.

Marielle appeared none the wiser; nor did she appear to appreciate the way David was regarding Penny. Penny turned haughtily to her menu, made her selection and realized too late that she was the only one taking dessert.

This, coupled with the fact that David was again preoccupied with Marielle, didn't do anything to help alleviate the feeling that she was once more the big fat gooseberry.

However, as they waited for the dessert to arrive, David began making a half-hearted attempt to bring her into the conversation ... until Penny's stony reception caused him to say,

"Hey, come on, lighten up, will you?"

Penny glared at him, speechless with indignation but before she could think of a suitable rejoinder her tiramisu arrived and her temper instantly deflated as she regarded it with dismay. It was such an enormous helping she felt sure that everyone was looking at her with disgust.

Closing her eyes, she dug in her spoon and was just lifting the creamy, chocolatey evil to her mouth, when David said,

"You're not actually going to eat that, are you?"

Penny stopped dead and turned to look at him. The sex-starved Sumo remark was screaming through her mind and, looking down at her plate she suddenly saw red!

"Not now, no,"

she said through her teeth.

"Oh, la, la\"

Marielle murmured as Penny landed the dish splat, in David's face.

lesus Christ, what did you do that for?"

he cried, grabbing a napkin.

"I was only trying to tell you there was silver foil on your spoon."

As the fury drained from Penny's face, mortification turned her rigid.

"Oh God, I'm sorry,"

she mumbled.

"I thought . . ."

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I TH FTi

Toil thought what?"

David laughed, attempting to wipe the gooey custard from his face.

"Nothing/ she said.

"I just ... I just misunderstood, that's all."

The other diners were all looking in their direction by now and, as David got up to go and clean himself off, Penny wished that the eagle whose nest they were dining in would come back and carry her off to a distant land. Brilliant, she was thinking to herself, just brilliant. After an entire evening of amazingly uncharacteristic restraint you go and blow it all by jamming a damned custard pie in his face. What will you think of as an encore!

They travelled back to Cannes in near silence, except for David's occasional burst of laughter. Penny was in the back seat again, wishing she could flick the little bit of cream off his hair that he'd obviously overlooked. It was a nasty little reminder of what a toe-curling idiot she had made of herself and what was worse was how funny David seemed to find it. She wasn't sure why she minded so much about that, she just did.

When they got back to the Carlton she was tempted to invite him in for a nightcap to try. to make amends, but guessing that he and Marielle had other things to do she simply said good night and started to get out of the car.

"Oh by the way,"

she said to David as he held the door open for her,

"I'm going back to London tomorrow, so I was wondering where I might be able to get hold of you should I need to."

Til be staying right down the road here,"

he said, waving an arm in the general direction of the Martinez Hotel a few blocks down.

"Some friends of mine have misguidedly handed over the keys to their apartment. I'll call the hotel later and leave a message for you with the phone number."

"OK,"

she said.

"Well, good night and, once again, I'm

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sorry about the, uh, misunderstanding."

Think no more of it/ he told her with a grin and, getting back into the car, he and Marielle drove away - no doubt, Penny was thinking to herself as she walked into the hotel, to get on with the dastardly deed. Then quite suddenly she started to laugh as the funny side of what had happened finally reached her. He'd deserved nothing less after the way he'd treated her, the bastard, and just wait till she told her friends back in London! The episode would be good for a laugh, if nothing else ...

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Chapter 4

Here, let me help you with that."

In mid-stumble through the front door, bags suspended from each shoulder and suitcase dragging on the floor, Penny looked up to find her sister's cheery face grinning down at her.

"Sammy!"

she cried, dropping her luggage and wrapping Sammy in her arms.

"When did you get here?"

"Yesterday/ Sammy answered, hugging Penny tightly.

"Peter's gone off skiing with his boyfriend and said I could stay."

"For how long?"

Penny asked, holding Sammy at arm's length and giving her a thorough, motherly-like inspection.

"You look fantastic,"

she told her, pulling her into another embrace.

"I can hardly believe you're here."

Sammy's eyes were suffused with sisterly devotion as she watched Penny give her another critical once-over before turning to haul her suitcase in the door. She was five years younger than Penny, and, like Penny, had such a glowing complexion she could almost have passed for a teenager. At five feet ten she was six inches taller than Penny and slender almost to the point of being skinny. Her hair, unlike Penny's, was extremely fine, several shades darker, and fell from a centre parting to well below her shoulders. But her eyes were a virtually identical cornflower-blue and shone with the same wicked humour and intelligence.

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'So whaf s all this Peter's been telling me about a new job?"

she said excitedly, following Penny down the narrow, dark hallway into the spacious sitting room, which, were it not for the dull sky outside, might have been invitingly sunny.

"It's in France, he said. Something to do with a new magazine."

"Make me a cup of tea and I'll fill you in,"

Penny said, shrugging off her coat and hitting the button on the answerphone.

"And don't think you're off the hook over that Casablanca caper,"

she called after her,

"because I haven't forgotten."

Half an hour later, having replayed her dozen or so messages and returned the more urgent calls, Penny slumped on to a tatty sofa and looked at Sammy's bright, eager face. She adored her sister more than anyone else in the world -

always had, since the day Sammy was born. So had their father, but sadly he had died before Sammy had reached her eleventh birthday and now, since their mother's death, Penny sometimes felt as though she'd taken on the role of both parents. Meaning that Sammy was an unruly, often unmanageable child, but Penny wouldn't have had her any other way. Actually, she would, for she'd have had Sammy living with her if only she could pin her down, but since Sammy had graduated she'd spent her time roaming the world and getting into more scrapes than the Marquess of Blandford, that Penny was continually obliged to get her out of.

It wasn't long before they were doubled-up with laughter as Penny reached the tiramisu part of her story, then gave a long and painful groan at the spectacular childishness of it when she was supposed to be the smart and sophisticated editor of a new magazine aiming to take the South of France by storm.

"I wish I could have seen this David's face!"

Sammy laughed, folding her legs in under her.

"What did he say?"

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(

'Would you believe he laughed?"

Penny grimaced.

"The bastard actually found it funny, which made me feel even worse, like I was some kind of clown or something."

Laughing again and shaking her head, she said,

"How on earth am I ever going to get him to take me seriously when I go around flinging custard pies in people's faces? Still, that's up to me to sort out.

What you have to sort out is whether or not you're going to come with me."

Sammy's face instantly lit up.

"Me!"

she cried incredulously.

Tes, you. I've got a job all lined up for you, if you want it, that is, and just you wait till you see where we'll be living. It's out of this world."

"Oh, Penny Moon, I just love you/ Sammy gushed, diving on to Penny and throwing her arms around her.

"I've been wondering what I should do next and I thought it was about time I got myself a job - what is it, by the way?"

Penny grinned.

"Agony Aunt,"

she said.

"I want you to take on the problem page and a few other things besides."

"Are you kidding?"

Sammy shrieked.

"My own column?"

"Your own column,"

Penny confirmed. Til have to try you out first, obviously, but we both know you can do it standing on your head. I just need to get you past Marielle."

"Why, if you're the editor?"

"Because I don't want her giving me any more problems than she's already creating/ Penny yawned.

"What's she like?"

"To look at, absolutely stunning. I couldn't work out at first why she wasn't striding the catwalks or brazening it out with other journalists in Paris. But these past couple of weeks have shown me why she's still on the Cote d'Azur."

"Why?"

Sammy prompted.

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'Because/ Penny answered pensively,

"she isn't actually all that bright. She certainly thinks she is, but if you ask me she's a bit of a pygmy in the intellect department and her writing is .

. ."

Her eyes flashed as though daring herself to voice what she really thought.

Deciding it was too bitchy she sufficed with:

"barely average. And the way she's throwing herself at David, trying to create a rift between us, just isn't subtle enough to make me think her clever in any way."

"Can't wait to meet her/ Sammy commented wryly.

"And what about David? What's he like?"

"Oh God/ Penny groaned,

"don't ask me about him!

fe, He's your typical right-up-himself playboy type with so If much charm it oozes out of him like jam. And why I

"

should be worrying about him taking me seriously when he's done absolutely zilch to get this magazine up and running so far ... Did I tell you, he's Sylvia's godson?

I did. Well, he behaves like he is, because though she's assured me we have equal power he's already parading around like he owns the joint and Marielle is lapping it up/

"So he's a bit of a looker, is he?"

Sammy grinned.

"Oh, yeah, he's that all right."

Penny sighed.

"How old is he?"

Penny shrugged.

"God knows. Mid to late thirties, I suppose."

Sammy was eyeing her closely.

"You sure you don't fancy him?"

she said.

Penny was on the brink of an explosive response, when she pulled herself back.

To go that route might appear she was protesting too much.

"Perfectly sure/ she answered calmly.

Sammy started to laugh.

"I am!"

Penny said indignantly.

"I've always told you that I'll know instantly when the right man comes along."

"How will you?"

"Instinct, of course."

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Sammy nodded wisely.

"Like you did with, what was his name? You know, the transvestite?"