on the door made my heart jump up into my throat. I had counted the hours to meeting my mystery couple, but now I felt glued to the spot. It had to be the PA. Inhaling a deep breath, I forced myself to open the door.
‘It’s about time, dear. I was beginning to think you weren’t in. You’re Roz, I presume?’ A short Asian man bustled inside, his eyes dancing around the room. His black hair was gelled into a small wave over his forehead, and he wore his navy suit with a slim purple tie. He had a face made for smiling, but his eyes were determined, lacking any real warmth.
‘Yes . . . Sorry,’ I said. Already, he was telling me off and I didn’t even know his name. ‘Are you the PA?’
‘Goodness, don’t look so scared!’ he said. ‘Yes, I’m George, not the big bad wolf.’ He held out his hand.
I gripped it with terrified enthusiasm.
‘Nice firm handshake,’ he smiled, shaking his fingers as I let go. ‘Now, are you sure you’re OK? Because you look like you’re about to faint.’ He looked me up and down, his eyes resting on my stomach, which was still relatively flat.
‘Sorry,’ I said again. Why was I apologising? ‘It’s my first time in America and I’m a bit overwhelmed. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m meant to do.’
‘Ah.’ He looked at me knowingly. ‘It explains why you’re wearing that.’
My smile faded. I had changed into my jeans – white ones, which I’d complemented with a flowery blouse. From the look on George’s face, anyone would think I was wearing a bin bag.
‘Have you got anything else to wear?’ He made his way to my wardrobe. ‘I’m presuming you’d like to impress this couple.’
‘I . . . I was told to pack light,’ I stuttered, watching him throw back my hangers and sort through my things. There wasn’t a lot there, so it didn’t take long. He tutted at my paltry offering. ‘Are there no designer stores in Ireland? Or maybe we should go for a subtler look.’
‘We have plenty of designer outlets,’ I retorted, feeling my cheeks burn. ‘I just can’t afford to shop in them. And I don’t see the point in pretending to be something I’m not.’ My annoyance was evident in my voice. I’d promised myself a long time ago that I would not be treated like a second-class citizen again.
George raised his perfectly formed eyebrows as he glanced my way. ‘Ooh, sassy, I like it. How about . . .’ He pushed a hanger aside. ‘This.’
The white knee-length dress was relatively new, and I was keeping it for a special occasion. It was linen with tiny flowers above the seams, and still a good fit.
‘If you think it’s best,’ I said haughtily.
‘I do, darling. I’m just trying to help, and we do have a little time to kill. Now, take off that make-up so I can redo your face. It’s too vampy for my liking. Utterly gorgeous, but first impressions count.’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘You need to be more of a girl next door.’
Sitting me at my dresser, he proceeded to rifle his way through my make-up bag. There was no point in arguing, and he seemed to know his way around a make-up brush. I was relieved I’d invested in a new palette, rather than bringing my grubby cosmetics from home.
‘Is this all you have?’ he said, picking up the packet of Boots make-up remover wipes. ‘Darling, you must cleanse, tone, moisturise with Clarins at the very least. You may have perfect skin now, but it won’t always be that way.’
I mumbled something about my baggage allowance as I wiped the foundation off my face. I wanted to dislike him, but I found myself warming to his brutal honesty. Besides, he was right; I had overdone it, and red lipstick was probably not the best choice when I had been coming across as holier than thou up until now.
‘Have you just straightened your hair?’ he said, after applying a gentler coating of make-up to my face.
‘Um . . . yes, I . . .’
He plucked my hair straighteners from my bag and plugged them in to the hotel travel plug. ‘Mind if I soften it with a little wave?’
He would be undoing all my hard work, but again, I agreed.
My hair and make-up complete, I heard George chuckle as I went into the bathroom to dress. Dympna used