she once had.
Dread threatened to suffocate her.
No. Never. It can’t be.
She backed off, staggering blind. ‘Who are you?’ she whispered hoarsely.
He laughed. The sound was reminiscent, like déjà vu. She knew she should be able to identify it, and yet it seemed to belong to another life, like knowing how it feels to swim even though you’d never learned.
Numb, she staggered towards him.
Get him out. Just get this man out of here.
Without warning he punched her in the face. The pain was exquisite; for a sweet split second it knocked her out cold. She landed hard on her back, the impact slowly bringing her round. Her vision was smudged. Shapes loomed above.
In a movement that lasted for ever, the man lifted an arm and removed his cap.
‘Hello, Laura.’
96
At the Parthenon, Chloe French cleaned her teeth one more time and took a deep breath in, then out. She could do this. There was no other choice.
She studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror. To an onlooker she was flawless, but close, much closer, there was an uncertainty in her eyes that gave her away. Fear was a dangerous thing. However hard you pushed it down, it always found a way back.
Turning her head to one side, she attempted a practised smile and almost convinced herself. She was a professional–it was her job to make people believe.
In a white toga-style dress amid the stylised opulence of one of Vegas’s most renowned hotels, she resembled a Greek goddess. Tomorrow morning her image would appear in magazines all across the world. Fashion editors would appraise her gown. Reviewers would dissect her performance. Gossip columnists would speculate on the man she was with.
Fame. Celebrity. Stardom. Chloe had imagined this moment for a long time, and now she had arrived.
It’s one night, she told herself. That’s all. You can do this.
Blood rushed to her head and she struggled to focus, fighting down yet another tide of nausea. She touched the palm of one hand flat against the marble wall and bowed her head.
It was karma. Everybody had to pay for the mistakes they made.
This is what you deserve. You knew it from the start.
‘Just not tonight,’ she begged, her lips cracked and dry. ‘Please, not tonight.’
‘Are you OK?’
Chloe jumped, less at the shock of remembering Nate was out there as at the concern in his voice. But the second time he spoke it was with the familiar bitterness.
‘Limo’s here in five. Let’s move.’
No sympathy there, then. She breathed deeply, smoothed down her dress for a final time and reached for the lock on the door. It was show time.
Nate was standing at the panorama, adjusting his tie. He looked good, like he had the night they’d first met.
When he turned to her, his eyes were cold.
‘Is everything all right now?’ he asked quietly.
‘Everything’s fine,’ she said blankly. ‘I feel better.’
Nate frowned and took a step forward, reaching for her hand. For a crazy moment she thought he might kiss her.
‘Tonight matters,’ he said instead. ‘You understand why.’
She nodded. ‘I’m ready,’ she told him. ‘Let’s do it.’
‘Good. Don’t let me down.’
Unexpectedly her phone shrilled to life. Reaching to retrieve it from her clutch, she noticed a flash of unease pass across his face.
‘Who is it?’ he demanded.
It was a private number.
‘I’ll take it outside.’ Chloe crossed to the sliding doors and stepped out on to the terrace. The fresh air was invigorating and she experienced a rush of hope. It was just one night. How much could go wrong?
She flipped it open. ‘Hello?’
At first, only silence. Then the voice began to speak. It was low and distinctive. She recognised it immediately.
‘I know about you, sweetheart,’ the voice said. ‘Remember? I know everything. Get ready, baby–because now it’s payback time.’
Fighting a wave of panic, Chloe gripped the balcony rail, her knuckles bleeding white in the darkness. Forty storeys below traffic throbbed down the Strip.
‘What do you want, Kate?’ she blurted.
The answer was swift. ‘I want you to know what it feels like.’
‘What?’ she whispered hoarsely.
‘Humiliation.’
‘Listen,’ she pleaded, desperate, ‘I’m sorry. It should never have happened. It was stupid, it meant nothing. I had my own reasons for it and it was a mistake. It’s over now.’
‘Oh, I know it’s over,’ Kate said gleefully. ‘Jimmy told me everything: how he called it off because you were getting too clingy; how you’d started badgering him about your career; but above all, darling, how very easy you were.’
Chloe was shaking.
‘And do you know why he told me, hmm?’ A beat. ‘He