Authors: Clare Naylor
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Psychological Thrillers, #Romance
“You’re right, a girl gets only one birthday a year,” Mirri said softly. And as Kate positively flounced back into the restaurant with a determination that ought to have won her a medal of honor, Mirri watched her and looked sad. She really had been there, she really had done that. And she knew how painful it was.
Kate’s fish was on the bone, which made life even more awful. Every time she took a mouthful she was skewered in the windpipe by a sharp sliver. She gave up and dallied halfheartedly with her potatoes.
“You know this waiter we have?” Mirri leaned into the assembled company and asked in a theatrical whisper. Everyone except Kate looked at the waiter and nodded. “Well, he looks exactly like a man I knew when I was younger.” Kate wiped butter off her lips with her napkin and looked one more time at her phone. The nasty bastard. She barely had words harsh enough for Jake right now, but she knew, simply knew, that this time it had to be over. Someone had once told her that the areas of the brain that govern pain and love are right next to one another and sometimes the signals get crossed. Kate certainly knew that there was a fine line between the two—but she had truly crossed over into masochistic territory now, and unless she ditched Jake once and for all, really walked away, she would quite literally have to go and have her head examined. And she couldn’t afford a shrink so she’d have to just quit now.
“He was called Tyler, which is a terrible name, and I should have known that he was trouble. But,
non,
off I tripped after this Tyler.” Mirri loaded the name with such melodramatic disdain that Kate was momentarily distracted by her story.
“He would have been incredibly handsome if he looked like that waiter,” Tanya, who was clearly also warming to Mirri, chipped in.
“He was okay. I’ve had better. I’ve had worse.”
Ugh, here we go.
Kate couldn’t believe that Mirri was about to turn her burned-out wreck of a birthday into an opportunity to gloat. That was just about beyond the pale. Even for a thoughtless, pampered pain-in-the-ass French movie star.
“Anyway, for some reason I loved Tyler. And he didn’t love me. And the more he didn’t love me, the more I tripped after him and changed my hair and read books so that I could impress him with my knowledge of early French novels and invited him to come on expensive holidays with me. And sometimes he would come and I’d want to have his babies and sometimes he’d leave. And then one day, when I realized that he had told all my friends that I was a pest—after he stole money from my purse to take another woman out to dinner—when he had told me that I dressed badly and ate noisily and after he had brought some girl back to my house and made love to her in my swimming pool and she had worn my robe . . . well, then I thought, you know, Mirabelle—” Mirri paused and the table was still. “—this man is a piece of shit.”
“Absolutely right.” Leonard broke the silence and guffawed.
“And what happened then?” Tanya asked.
“I have no idea. I never saw him again.” Mirri shrugged and fleetingly looked over at Kate.
“And the moral of the story is, at least I’m not going out with Tyler,” Kate said miserably to Mirri.
“There is no moral, darling. Just immoral men who take beautiful, sweet women for granted.”
“Let’s have a toast . . . to Kate.” Leonard raised his glass and stood up. “To a beautiful and sweet woman whom I have known for a very long time now, and who, like the finest of clarets, simply gets better and better and more and more delicious with age.”
“Hear hear.” Robbie leaned over and kissed Kate on the cheek, then stood up himself. Much to the delight of the women in the room, who hadn’t quite managed to tear their eyes away from him entirely. “To my gorgeous friend Kate. I hope you have the fabulous, successful year you deserve and I hope all your wishes come true, darling.”
Kate looked up appreciatively at Robbie and felt a sudden surge of anger. How the fuck dare Jake ruin her birthday like this? Here she was surrounded by wonderful friends saying amazing things about her, a once-in-a-lifetime moment, and he was spoiling it for her. Like he’d spoiled too many days. Days when the sun was shining yet Kate couldn’t be happy. Days when she’d been given a great commission but was miserable to the core because he’d behaved badly toward her.
Kate looked at Robbie and her friends. “Thanks, guys,” she whispered almost inaudibly and then stood up and made her slightly jagged way to the bathroom, where she stumbled into a cubicle and closed the door behind her.
Kate sat down on the loo seat and a huge, stupid tear rolled down her cheek. She must not cry. She had all those people out there smiling at her, her friends rallying around. And she could not bear for them to feel sorry for her. The role of abused, pathetic girlfriend was wearing thin even by her standards. Everyone else must be bored to the back teeth of her. But she couldn’t help it. She pulled a tissue out of her bag and wiped her eyes. The roller coaster of life with Jake had taken her from yesterday morning when she was singing in the shower to now, with her head in her hands at her own birthday party. She had to get off this bloody ride.
“Darling.” There was a gentle tap on the door of her cubicle. Kate contemplated not responding. It came again.
“Tanya?” Kate sniffed.
“It’s me. Mirabelle,” the voice came back.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Kate was beyond rudeness. Besides, why should she punish poor Mirri, who really only seemed to be being kind to her.
“I have a present for you.”
“I’ll be out in a minute. I promise. I just have to . . . get myself together.” Kate rubbed her eyes with the crumbling, surprisingly wet tissue.
“Then I’ll come in. Please.” Mirri wasn’t going anywhere, Kate deduced, so she slid back the lock of the door.
“Here, darling. I was going to give it to you this afternoon when you were being so sweet with Bébé in my bedroom but I couldn’t find it. I think it will bring you luck.” And Mirri took Kate’s hand and pressed something small and hard into her fist. Kate opened her palm and through her tears saw a ring. Not the great canary diamond that Mirri had been wearing this morning but a tiny little shiny ring with a perfect, glinting little stone on the top.
“Mirri, don’t be ridiculous. I couldn’t. It’s too generous,” Kate began.
Mirri simply folded her arms and refused to be drawn. “It was given to me by my favorite husband. He had a very kind heart and not as much money as many of the others. And I’m giving it to you because I thought that if you had something sparkling to wear on your finger then you won’t be so desperate to find yourself a husband and then . . . and only then . . . can you begin to enjoy yourself like a charming girl like you should.”
“Mirri, you can’t. Really that’s amazing but I think that—”
“I’ve told you before that you think too much. Now put it on.”
Kate looked down at the diamond on her finger. A beautiful, sparkling movie star’s diamond. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s not the Hope Diamond but it will give you hope. I promise.” Mirri looked approvingly at Kate’s finger. “Now, look at your face. You have red eyes and your hair . . .”
“God is it a mess?” Kate smoothed down her hair with her palm.
“A mess? Heavens no. Not a mess at all.” And with that Mirri took Kate’s hand and led her out of the cubicle toward the large mirrors in the bathroom. “Let me look at you.” She swiftly extracted a black eyeliner pencil from her handbag and took Kate’s face between her hands. “They say that every woman is preserved in her heyday. I know that I wear too much eyeliner and too many jewels but it makes me feel young and sexy. And you, my dear, have not had your heyday yet.”
“I don’t think I’m the heyday type.” Kate sighed defeatedly.
“You are very silly sometimes.” Mirri began drawing dark rims around Kate’s pretty amber eyes with satisfaction. “And you are also very pretty. And for tonight, and until you find the man who lights up your heart and your life and you find your own heyday, you are going to borrow mine. Okay?”
“What do you mean?” Kate asked as she patiently allowed Mirri to run her fingers through her hair and gently shove her under the hand dryer until she looked as though she had been sitting on the wing of a jumbo jet in midflight. Or—and Kate thought this was probably the point—she’d been kissed to within an inch of her life, had sex for six hours without pause for breath, and hadn’t been near a mirror for a week at least. “Just fucked.” Kate smiled sadly. “Then chucked?”
“No no no. This Slug. He loves you. But his love is not enough. He loves you in his way but you deserve so much more. You deserve a man who will want to die for you.” Mirri assured Kate, “He probably won’t be required to do this, you understand. But you need to feel that he would if you asked him to.”
“But why should anyone die for me? Why should anyone die for anyone else? Really, Mirri, I just don’t believe that any human being should ever rely on someone else so completely.”
“That is because you don’t know what it’s like to really be loved.” Mirri looked almost sad.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m okay. I like my life this way,” Kate said. “I’m independent, I’m strong. Despite all the Jake stuff. I’ll be okay.” Clearly the hair was beginning to work its magic.
“I wasn’t sorry for you. I was sad for me,” Mirri said unexpectedly.
“Really?” Kate looked in the mirror and though she didn’t look a bit like herself, she did look pretty hot.
“Life isn’t simple for anyone, Kate. I tell you. Whether you are alone or with a man you love. It’s never without problems.” And Mirri checked her own reflection in the mirror and turned to her new charge. “Now I want you to come out there with me, not give another thought to that man all night, and have some fun. And I don’t mean just eating olives and being polite. We are going to enjoy ourselves. Okay?” She looked at Kate, who nodded resolutely and checked her phone one last time. No Jake. No more Jake ever, she decided, as Mirri took her hand, with her new, first-ever diamond on her finger, and led her out into the restaurant.
“We have a birthday over here, darling.” Mirri called the Tyler look-alike waiter over as she and Kate settled back down into their seats, “And we’d like to celebrate.” She looked intently into his eyes, and doubtless his lungs were being scorched with the scent of Shalimar, which was the MM signature scent. Well, at least she could commit to something, Kate thought, even if it was only a fragrance.
“You would maybe like some champagne?” The waiter was shaking just a little bit.
“And some music. We would like a little music.”
“I’m afraid that as it’s a residential neighborhood we’re not really allowed to play music . . .”
“Pah.” Mirri scoffed and stood up. She marched toward the bar and sought out the manager, returning moments later with her hips swaying to the beat of what could only be described as jungle drums. The lights of the restaurant had been mysteriously dimmed. Mirri was followed moments later by a procession of slim young men bearing in turn a bucket of champagne on ice, a birthday cake ablaze with candles, and, at the end of the line, the ultimate conjuring trick of all time, Jonah Sinclair.
“Now we dance,” she said as she shook off her shoes and began pouring out overflowing, foaming glasses of champagne. “Jonah, this is my great friend Kate.”
“Ah, the birthday girl.” Jonah took Kate’s hand, rather satisfactorily, the one with the diamond on it, and kissed it. “May I have the pleasure?”
“Well, I usually only dance when I’m drunk or alone,” Kate began to stammer. Not only was she knocked out by how sexy Jonah was in real life, close up, but she also felt a creeping sense of embarrassment in case he knew that she was the peeping pervert from the other night at the house.
“Ah, no, you’re not getting out of it that easily.” He grinned and pulled Kate to her feet. His voice was lilting and gorgeous, and she was about to humiliate herself by not being able to dance with him. She snatched up one of the now diminished glasses of champagne and felled the lot in one swallow. “That-a-girl,” he whispered in her ear as he led her to the dance floor. They were followed moments later by Mirri, whose dress was already swishing around her thighs like a gypsy queen, and Leonard, who had Tanya’s hand and was ballroom whirling her around. Mirri then proceeded to lure the famously undancing Robbie Hirst to the floor with one come-hither curl of her finger.
At first Kate could not get her feet to beat in time to anything. Not her heart, not her thudding head, and certainly not the music. She was hopelessly off beat, and her shoes seemed to stick awkwardly to the floor. Everyone else looked as though they were gliding around on crushed velvet. But Jonah knew exactly what he was doing, and when he stood opposite her, with both his hands resting on her hips, there was little she could do but get in time with him. Or evaporate, of course. But that would have seemed a little ungrateful.
“You’ve got pretty lips.” He breathed his warm, champagne-sour breath onto her neck.
“So have you,” Kate replied. What else to say? Mirri sidled over and Jonah, try as he might to be polite to the birthday girl, clearly couldn’t stop himself from reacting to the musk in Mirri’s scent. Or something, because seconds later his pretty lips were having a party all of their own with Mirri’s neck.
“My turn.” No sooner had Kate sidled over to where Robbie was dancing than Leonard whisked her off to spin the light fantastic. “Are you having fun?” he asked.
“A ball.” Kate laughed. Having genuinely forgotten all about whatshisname. “I love being twenty-nine.”
And so, in the words of Leonard Cohen, Kate was danced to the end of love. Well, not the end, exactly. But certainly the end until the morning, when she would undoubtedly remember all about Jake. But for tonight she was lovely. She was adored by her fantastic friends and she had a whole new friendship with Mirri.
“Thank you,” she called out to Mirri as she was flung, inexpertly, by Robbie across the restaurant-cum-dance-floor.
“My pleasure.” Mirri laughed, then whispered something into Jonah’s ear. Moments later Kate found herself on the receiving end of a true screen kiss. It was sweet and sexy and just like the movies. And it was delivered with a twinkle by Jonah Sinclair. As his hands settled on the back of her neck and his lips sank into hers, Kate was aware only that this was very, very nice. This blew whatshisname out of the water. Until tomorrow. But then, in the words of another song, Kate had tonight, who needed tomorrow?