The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,31

I swallowed a large gulp of vodka. It was time to cut the crap. ‘So, why are you here?’

‘Because . . . because I have something to tell you.’

‘Oh, what?’

‘Well, I wanted you to know before it was officially announced. I kinda felt I owed it to you.’

I stared at him silently, having no idea what it was he wanted to tell me but that it sure wasn’t going to be a declaration of undying love.

‘I’m getting married,’ he announced, ‘to a wonderful lady I met on the tour. She’s a backing singer and from the South like me. We just fit together, y’know?’

I’d heard descriptions of blood turning to ice, but until this moment, I’d never experienced it.

‘Congratulations,’ I managed, almost choking with the effort.

‘Thanks. Now I feel stupid coming here to tell you in person, because it’s obvious you’re doin’ just fine.’

‘I am, oh yes, I really am,’ I said, using every ounce of self-control I’d ever possessed not to pick up the heavy bronze statuette that stood on the glass coffee table and crash it onto his handsome, arrogant head.

‘So, I guess that’s it. I’m gonna tell the fans tomorrow night on stage – pull Sharon forward and just put it out there.’

I watched him nod at the rightness of the scenario he was clearly imagining. I remained silent, sucking hard on my straw, but there was nothing left to suck.

‘I can get you VIP tickets for tomorrow if you’d like.’

‘Sorry, I’m busy tomorrow night.’ I gave him a nonchalant shrug.

I watched him stand up. ‘Well then, I’ll leave you in peace. Gotta grab some sleep tonight. It’s a big day tomorrow.’

‘Sure sounds like it,’ I nodded, not moving.

He looked at me then, and maybe something in my expression gave him a hint.

‘Did I do the wrong thing by droppin’ by? I just—’

‘Mitch?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Will you get the hell out of my apartment? Now!’

I rose from the couch then and stood toe to toe with him.

‘Sure, I’m going. I’m real sorry, Electra,’ he said as he walked towards the door. ‘The last thing I meant to do was upset you.’

‘Well, guess what? You have! Big time!’

I marched ahead of him and held open the door.

‘Bye, Mitch. Have a nice life with your new wife,’ I spat.

Luckily for him, he said nothing else, because if he had, I may well have ended up doing time for murder. As he passed through the door, I slammed it behind him so hard that the glasses rattled in the kitchen cupboard. Then I slid down the wall and burst into great heaving sobs of anger and pain.

‘Can I get you anything, Miss D’Aplièse?’ the cabin attendant asked.

‘Yeah, a glass of tonic water with ice.’

‘Will you want lemon with that?’

‘No thanks.’

‘What about something to eat?’

I looked around my seat for the menu card.

‘Don’t worry, I have one here.’

He handed me the card. My head was spinning so hard, I could hardly focus.

‘I’ll take the stir-fry noodles and a side of salad.’

‘Perfect. Any wine to accompany that?’

‘No, just the tonic water.’

The attendant nodded and glided away down the first-class cabin. I opened up the bin in which my purse and duty-free were stored, and making sure no one was looking, screwed the top off the bottle of Grey Goose I had bought and took a swig. When the cabin attendant came back with my tonic, I’d drink half of it and fill it up with my private vodka stash. I lay back in my seat and closed my eyes, but there were weird bright lights pinging against my eyelids. I knew I’d done too much coke last night, and ecstasy didn’t suit me. It had been seven in the morning before I’d begun to come down, but by then, I’d taken a couple of sleeping pills. The next thing I’d known, I’d heard someone calling my name and had dragged open my eyes to see Mariam staring down at me, telling me it was time to leave for JFK.

‘Hi.’

Talk of the devil, I thought as Mariam appeared beside me from her seat in business class.

‘Hi,’ I said, looking up at her.

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked me.

‘I’m okay, thanks. It was a late one last night, that’s all.’

‘Well, the flight to São Paulo takes ten hours, so hopefully you can catch some sleep before we board the private jet up to Rio. You have a full day on the commercial shoot tomorrow.’

‘I know. I’ll be just fine, really,’ I assured her.

‘Did you contact your sister,