old fears came into play. The odds were not in her favour, which was why she had to work twice as hard to keep their union solid. Dipping her hand into her bag, she slid out her mobile phone and checked on George’s location through the Friend Finder app. A separate notification came through as George sent the latest recording of his conversations with Roz. She would listen to them later, checking for any gaps between recordings so every minute was accounted for.
As she lowered her phone, her gaze fell on Felicity Grey. Twenty years Sheridan’s senior, she was a fading actress well beyond her prime. Inhaling a sudden breath, Sheridan took in her ragged features. What surgeon had butchered her this time? Her lips were bulbous; the skin on her face tugged so tightly it appeared painful to the touch. Twin black lines represented her eyebrows, setting her face in cartoonish shock. Not that the obscenely young actor across from her seemed to mind. Sheridan recognised him as a clinger-on. Rumour had it he was willing to sleep his way to the top. He made an adequate replacement for Felicity’s movie producer husband, given he had left her for a much younger model, too. Sheridan sighed. Would that be her in twenty years’ time? Or would she end up like her mother, penniless and alone? Cold dread spread like ice water through her veins.
‘Sorry, traffic was hell.’ Monica’s Boston accent infiltrated her thoughts. Slightly breathless, she paused to air-kiss Sheridan’s cheeks. Sheridan mentally assessed her wardrobe, a low-cut Saint Laurent print blouse with a knee-length black skirt.
Monica briefly acknowledged the ma?tre d’ as he pulled out her chair. ‘Howareya?’
It was the typical Bostonian greeting, a mixture of eastern New England dialect delivered in her own unique style.
‘Fine.’ Sheridan wasted no time in ordering Monica a drink.
‘I’m impressed you got a table. Adam called yesterday – they said they had nuthin’ until next week.’
Sheridan forced back a smug smile. Tables were allocated on a tier system and she never had to wait. ‘I can’t stay long, I’m afraid – I’ve got a new member of staff I need to keep an eye on.’ It was a lie, a cover in case Monica should ever see Roz at the house.
‘Really? What’s she like?’ Monica paused. ‘I say she, but I shouldn’t presume.’
‘She’s inexperienced, but Daniel loves her. He only hired her because she’s Irish.’ She smiled at Monica’s quizzical expression. ‘His mom’s Irish. You must be the only person on the planet who doesn’t know that.’
Magazine articles contained everything from the colour of his eyes to his favourite flavour chewing gum. In the early days, Daniel used to chat to interviewers as if they were his friends. He was more guarded now, but his early indiscretions still did the rounds. Sheridan had learned from her childhood to only tell people what you wanted them to believe.
In the end, she went for a salad; no dressing, no oil. Felicity Grey’s presence was enough to curb her appetite. The ghost of her future self? She picked at her iceberg lettuce while Monica devoured her pasta dish.
‘How’s Adam?’ Sheridan asked, nodding towards the diamond on Monica’s pinky finger. ‘Is that a precursor to an engagement ring?’
‘Not much chance of that,’ Monica replied, her hand before her mouth as she chewed the last of her food. She rested her cutlery on her plate. ‘To be honest, I’m worried . . .’ She dabbed the napkin against her lips. ‘But you knew Adam before me . . . I shouldn’t be bringing this to your door.’
Now she had Sheridan’s attention. If developments were underway, she needed to know. She reached across the table, squeezed Monica’s hand. ‘Hey, you’re my friend. Now tell me . . . what’s wrong?’
Monica chewed on her bottom lip, her conflicted emotions creasing the corners of her eyes. ‘I promised not to say anythin’.’
‘I won’t say a word. Is it work? Has he been offered a part?’ It was not unusual for actors to be separated from their loved ones for months when they filmed on location abroad.
‘It’s his agent,’ Monica replied with a sigh.
Sheridan knew TJ Greene, the renowned agent to the stars; he was Daniel’s agent, too. She could see him in her mind’s eye: his over-tanned skin, too-white teeth and crocodile smile. Sheridan had sought out a female agent because she refused to deal with TJ, that misogynistic pig. She waited for Monica to continue, refusing the waiter’s offer