To the Moon and Back - By Jill Mansell Page 0,105

of the other business people due at the meeting in Monaco. Thanks to her negotiations, the journey from Nice airport to Monte Carlo would no longer be by car; they were to be whisked there by helicopter instead.

‘Oh God. I’m sorry.’ Zack handed the phone back.

‘Good.’

‘I mean, really sorry.’

‘That’s OK. You’ve been a bit twitchy today. In a funny mood.’

‘I know.’

Ellie was looking at him. ‘Is something wrong?’

What could he say? Yes, something is wrong, and it’s all your fault?

‘No.’ Zack shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t have had a go. I’m not usually like that.’

‘I know you aren’t. Anyway, thanks.’

‘For apologizing? That’s the least I can do.’

‘Not for the apology,’ said Ellie. ‘For the argument. My first proper one in a long time.’

‘Oh.’ He began to relax. ‘Did you enjoy it?’

‘Very much. Especially the bit where I won. In fact…’

‘In fact what?’ She was eyeing him thoughtfully.

‘Was this all part of the plan? You knew I missed having arguments so you decided to start one?’ A slow smile was spreading across Ellie’s face. ‘Oh my God, am I right? Did you do it on purpose?’

Zack briefly considered the alternatives. Talk about a moral dilemma. Bloody morals.

‘OK,’ he said finally, ‘I’d love to be able to tell you that was true. But I’m afraid it wasn’t. I was just being a bad-tempered old git.’

Ellie’s smile broadened. ‘The thing is, you say that now. But I’m still not sure I believe you.’

Zack couldn’t speak. All he wanted to do was kiss her.

And he wasn’t allowed to do that either.

Chapter 42

The irony of the situation didn’t escape Roo. Here she was, lying in a reclining chair allowing her ex-lover’s wife to inflict pain on her.

Pain is good.

She wouldn’t even mind more pain than this, but Yasmin was a pro. Swiftly, skillfully, she manipulated the twirled-together threads, whisking out tiny hairs and leaving perfectly sculpted eyebrows in their place. Well, hopefully she was. Roo imagined sitting up at the end, gazing into the mirror, and discovering that one eyebrow was arched and the other one flat. Or missing altogether.

‘So,’ Yasmin said cheerfully, ‘how’s everything been going with you?’

‘Not so bad.’ Between the razor-sharp ting ting tings as each hair was tweaked out, Roo updated her with the latest goings-on in the shop. Yesterday a man had donated a portrait in oils of the ugliest woman any of them had ever seen. This morning he had returned explaining that it was a painting of his late wife and he’d missed her too much, could he please have it back? His relief when he learned that it hadn’t been snapped up had touched the hearts of everyone in the shop. When they’d handed over the hideous portrait, he’d wept tears of joy.

‘How about you?’ Roo changed the subject.

‘Me? Oh, I’m getting a divorce.’

‘What?’ Roo’s eyes had been closed. Now they snapped open. ‘You mean, you and your… husband?’

‘That’s generally how it works.’

‘But… why?’ Was she sounding too shocked? Oh God, this was awful. But she had to ask.

‘Nothing very original, I’m afraid. Same old story. I found out he’s been having an affair.’ Yasmin stopped threading, raised the back of the recliner slightly, and handed Roo a mirror. ‘Here you are. Have a look and see what you think.’

Roo gazed at her reflection and saw a selfish, marriage-wrecking harlot with stunning eyebrows.

‘Is that about right,’ said Yasmin, ‘or do you want them narrower?’

‘This is fine.’ It was hard to look at herself. Roo put the mirror down.

‘OK, the skin’s a bit red. I’m going to put some aloe vera gel on there to cool it down. You just lie back and relax.’

When the gel had been applied, Roo said, ‘Who was it?’

‘Who was what?’

‘The other woman.’

‘Oh, they used to work together. She’s a sales rep with another company now.’

‘That’s awful.’ What would be really awful was if she were to accidentally mention Vivica’s name. Roo clamped her mouth shut so it couldn’t slip out.

‘It is awful, but I’m doing OK. Oh, bless you for looking so upset.’ Yasmin gave her shoulder a grateful squeeze. ‘You’ve come here to be pampered, you don’t have to put up with me bleating on about my marriage.’

‘You aren’t bleating.’

‘If I get tedious, just tell me to change the subject.’

Roo needed to know. ‘So what happened? How did you find out?’

‘Total cliché. Came home unexpectedly and caught them at it.’

Oh God, that could have been me. It couldn’t have, because she’d never visited their house, but Roo covered her mouth in

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