Maid for Advertising - Susie Tate Page 0,9

wrong end of the stick and I think its best to be open about these things. She said she wouldn’t be with you in a million years.”

My mouth snapped shut and I stared at Stella for a long moment.

“I had to do something Jack. This weekend is really important. Your head’s got to be in the game, not mooning over some teenager who’d never even give you the time of day anyway. Give me her number and I’ll let her know we don’t really need her to work – job done.”

That did shut me up. A teenager? Bloody hell, Stella was right. Messing about with a teenager was the last thing I should be doing. I knew she was young but . . .

“It’s probably better this way,” she said smoothly. “Now she won’t be on the yacht and you can get on with the – “

“She’s coming on the yacht,” I said, straightening in my chair and then clearing my throat. My mind flicked to that hole in her jumper. “If she needs the work then she can have it. We need extra serving staff anyway and she has plenty of experience.”

Stella’s eyes flashed with what looked like anger for a moment before her expression cleared. “Right, well, that’s your decision. I’m only trying to help.”

“I know you are, Stell,” I said, managing a quick smile for her. It wasn’t her fault that I wasn’t the irresistible bastard I thought I was. For some reason Stella was unpopular in the office, but she was good with most of the clients and I knew I could trust her. “Look, I’m sorry I snapped. You were just looking out for me.”

She flipped her hair over one shoulder and the blonde sheet fell perfectly down her back as always (hair flipping seemed to be Stella’s favourite thing – it was a wonder she didn’t have arthritis in her neck the amount of twisting it did all day).

“Anything for you, Jack,” she told me, her voice husky and low.

“Are you getting a cold?” I asked. Only last week Tom had been off with laryngitis. For some reason her mouth went from smiling to a flat line.

*****

Urvi

“Tell me you’re taking more than this, loser,” Kira said as she rooted through my small bag. “I’m not sure they’ll even let you into Saint-Tropez with only these outfits.” She held up a pair off frayed, cut-off denim shorts that had seen better days and shook her head in disgust. “Where are your bikinis? Where are the sexy little cover-ups.”

“I’ve packed my swimmers,” I told her and she held up my Speedo one-piece with the tips of her fingers as if it was contaminated with some dread disease.

“This is not a bikini,” she told me, chucking it back into the bag. “The only time it’s acceptable to wear this item is if you are training for a women-only sea swim marathon, or going to a leisure centre with kids. And even then it’s pushing it. But in Saint-Tropez those swimmers will be burnt by the locals. My bikini is basically dental floss with tiny gwat-slash-nipple-covering triangles. Waaay more appropriate.”

I rolled my eyes. “Bugger off Kira and concentrate on your own bag or we’ll be late. I don’t need any more clothes. We’re going to be stuck in uniform all week anyway.”

Kira grimaced and I felt like doing it too. Mr Blight or the head steward, as he called himself, had phoned me a few days ago, sounding mighty pissed off that we were last minute additions, which I found weird seeing as he was the one short on staff. He told me that all the staff wore uniforms and flat shoes - no heels on boats apparently. Seeing as one pair of ugly court shoes was my entire heel collection, and most of my clothes had seen better days, I was in fact relieved by this information.

“I’m not sure I can be confined to a uniform for five days,” Kira complained, hitching her enormous bag up onto her shoulder.

“For a grand I’m sure you’ll manage,” I muttered as I zipped up my bag and pushed her out towards the front door.

*****

I closed my eyes tight and leaned my head back against the seat. Finally we’d made it onto the goddamn plane. The flight had been delayed and the toilets by the departure gate had been so rammed that I hadn’t had time to wait for a cubicle. Unfortunately this meant no insulin for me yet. I still