Illusions of Love - By Michelle Betham Page 0,110

how to pitch both her salons to the right clientele. She had Beverly Hills down to a tee with the glamour and glitz that her mainly socialite clients demanded, whilst here in Vegas she had it spot on, with just the right amount of slightly-over-the-top kitsch combined with a touch of the Hollywood edge Charley’s was known for.

‘Have you got an appointment? Because, I’m not sure we can fit you in, we’re so very, very busy these days, y’know.’

India swung round to see Charley standing there, beautiful and business-woman-smart in a pair of black tailored trousers, white shirt and extremely high black heels, her dark hair piled up on top of her head. She looked calm, in control, but India knew that, inside, she must be feeling anything but.

The stories of her past seemed to keep coming every day, matching the stories coming out concerning India, Dominic and Michael. Together they were keeping the gossip columns on red alert, and it was hard. But even harder for Charley, because she had so much to lose. And it was what happened if she lost it all that concerned India.

‘You mean, you can’t squeeze me in? Me? A Hollywood movie star? Don’t you know who I am?’

They both burst out laughing, hugging each other tight.

‘You haven’t come here for any treatment though, have you?’ Charley asked, holding her friend out at arm’s length, taking in her stunning outfit of a simple short white dress that showed off her lightly tanned skin to perfection, and wedge-heeled ankle boots, her long blond hair pulled back into a loose and messy ponytail. She looked every inch the movie star, and a long way from the tomboy who’d started out on this journey two decades ago.

India shook her head. ‘Of course I haven’t. I’ve come to see you. I can get a massage anytime.’

‘From anyone in particular?’ Charley smiled. ‘Or is all of that still very much up in the air?’

‘Don’t even go there,’ India sighed, taking her friend’s arm and leading her towards the elevator. ‘Come on. Let’s go talk.’

‘India…’ Charley groaned, not really in the mood to talk about anything. She came here to forget, she had enough of the talking at home with Vince.

‘Don’t “India” me. We’re going to talk, okay?’

‘Okay,’ Charley sighed. She didn’t have the energy to fight this one.

‘And have you got any wine in that office of yours?’ India asked as the elevator opened it’s doors, leading them out onto the first floor. ‘I could do with a really large glass of anything cold and white.’

Upstairs in Charley’s office India couldn’t help but notice how Charley’s demeanour seemed to change in an instant the second the door closed behind them. That calm and in-control look had changed to one of a person who spent a lot of time putting on a front, someone who didn’t feel quite as calm as her outward appearance might have you think. But that was only to be expected. Charley was a professional out there on the floor, but behind closed doors didn’t she have a right to feel slightly more uneasy?

‘So, how are you holding up?’ India asked, sitting down on one of Charley’s huge brown sofas, crossing her legs and smiling her thanks as Charley handed her a glass of Californian chardonnay, straight from Vince’s vineyard.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Liar. You can’t kid a kidder, Charley. Come on, this is me you’re talking to.’

Charley sighed, leaning back against her desk, folding her arms. ‘It’s a nightmare, India. And I just don’t know what to do. I really don’t.’

‘I thought Vince had got some kind of injunction in place, y’know, to stop Jimmy from distributing any more of those films?’

‘He had. I mean, he has. But do you honestly think a man like Jimmy Cash is going to take notice of any injunction? Why would he? He doesn’t play by the rules, he doesn’t work that way, and you know that. You know what kind of a man he is.’

India stared down into her glass for a few seconds, remembering her brother again – her incredible, amazing brother and even now, fourteen years after his murder, she could still feel tears welling up in the back of her eyes. The pain of losing him would never go away, and it never really got any easier. She’d just learnt to deal with it.

‘I want to be there for you, Charley. You know that, don’t you? I’ve always wanted to be there for you, no matter what. So

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