‘I did?’

  Amelia could hear the slight hesitation in her voice.

  ‘Yes. I’ve got an important meeting tomorrow, the last thing I needed was to be exhausted.’

  ‘Eh? Why would you be exhausted?’ Liz said. ‘We were only going for a drink.’

  ‘Believe me, Liz, we were going to be doing more than that. Much, much more,’ Amelia said in her most sultry voice.

  For the next five minutes, Amelia told Liz exactly what she had planned to do to her with the most graphic descriptions. She went into so much detail, she actually turned herself on. By the end of the fantasy scene Amelia had memorised from an erotica book earlier, she could almost hear Liz panting down the line.

  ‘Well, I’d better go now—’

  ‘No wait! Let me come over. I can be there in fifteen… no ten minutes.’

  ‘Too late I’m afraid….’

  ‘Come on—’

  Amelia put her mouth to the phone and let out a soft, seductive sigh before disconnecting the call. Almost immediately the phone started to ring again. Without looking at the caller ID, she waited a few seconds. Liz was keen. Amelia was glad the technique had worked on her. Maybe she’d think twice about standing someone up in the future.

  Swiping to accept the call, she frowned when a familiar voice that wasn’t Liz spoke into her ear.

  ‘Who’s the bestest friend in the world?’

  ‘Er… you,’ Amelia said, hazarding a guess.

  ‘Damn right I am.’

  There were a few moments of silence before Cecile spoke again.

  ‘Remember that trainee position you applied for at Styles?’

  ‘Yeah, what about it?’

  ‘Well, looks like you’re in with a chance.’ Cecile worked as an admin assistant at Styles so would be one of the first to know.

  Amelia held the phone with a trembling hand. ‘When I didn’t hear back from them, I assumed they didn’t want me.’

  Cecile laughed. ‘Only you could assume the worst from a lack of response.’

  ‘Come on, just tell me what’s happening?’

  ‘They’re starting the hiring process, and you’ve got an interview!’

  ‘What? Are you bloody kidding me?’

  ‘Nope, but you’re up against some serious competition.’

  Amelia’s heart sank. That’s the story of my life. ‘Go on, who are they?’

  ‘People from Pascha and Converts—’

  ‘Pascha! Converts? Please tell me you’re joking.’

  ‘Do I sound like I’m joking? Anyway, thanks to your BFF shoving your portfolio under the nose of Damien in HR, you’ve got as good a chance as anyone. You’ll officially hear from them tomorrow, but your interview’s on Wednesday.’

  Amelia struggled to take it all in. ‘Wednesday? But that’s only two days away. I haven’t got anywhere to stay or—’

  ‘You can stay with me. I thought you’d be happy. Do you know what having Styles on your CV can do for your career?’

  Amelia steadied herself using the basin for support. She was right. Where was her gratitude? I’ve got an interview!! I’ve got an interview!! Oh my God! Oh my God!

  Eyes closed, she pinched herself, quickly suppressing the urge to scream ‘Ouch’ having pinched a little too hard.

  ‘Are you still there?’

  I think so. Amelia’s eyes darted around her small bathroom, unsure where to settle her gaze. With a jolt, Amelia realized she hadn’t responded.

  ‘Oh, um yes, sorry, it’s just um my… there was a spider on my head,’ Amelia blurted out the first thing that came to mind and instantly regretted it.

  ‘A spider on your head?’

  ‘Er yeah, it um lives here.’ Please stop talking nonsense. ‘Anyway, sorry, Cecile, I can’t thank you enough for helping me with this. And I’m grateful, I just can’t believe it.’

  Amelia could hear the immediate reprimand in Cecile’s voice. ‘I told you, you’ve got to believe in yourself. If you won’t—’

  ‘I know, I know, no one else will.’

  ‘Right, you’re not in your PJs?’

  Amelia turned towards the mirror and took in her casual outfit. Jeans and a tight-fitted striped grey waistcoat. She would be the first to admit it wasn’t over the top glam, but the look was stylish enough. For Bournemouth anyway. ‘No, why?’

  Amelia could hear laughter in the background. ‘’Cause we’re coming to get you.’

  ‘You’re in Bournemouth?’

  ‘Yes, I’m with the girls, we had free tickets to a fashion show earlier. Now we’re ready to hit the town.’

  ‘Oh right. You know, Cecile, it’s kind of late and—’

  ‘Oh, don’t be such a bloody bore. You’re the oldest twenty-eight-year-old person I know.’

  Amelia shook her head incredulously. ‘And you’re the youngest thirty-year-old I know.’

  ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’ More laughter. ‘Put your face on, we’re five minutes away.’

  And with that, the line went dead.

  Amelia rolled her eyes. Great. Now she was going to be stuck in a straight club watching Cecile and her friends be ogled by pimple-faced teenagers. She’d had the misfortune of going out a few weeks back and was shocked that most of the ‘men’ looked no older than sixteen. She could think of nothing worse than spending another night in such a place.

  Maybe I should call Liz back. Amelia’s new-found confidence at being given a shot at her dream job had boosted her self-worth.

  She started to punch in Liz’s number then stopped. Amelia didn’t need her. She didn’t need anyone. That’s what she loved about life. Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, it flipped and did the total opposite.

  A fleeting grin appeared on Amelia’s face as she thought about all the attractive women she would meet in her new job. That’s if she managed to impress the interviewer.

  Finally, the lady downstairs might be getting some action.

  Chapter Two

  The next day, Amelia was packed and ready to go. After one last glance around her studio flat to make sure she’d not left any electrical items on, she stepped out into the communal hallway and closed the door behind her. If all went well with her interview, it was likely she’d have to give up her tenancy. There was no way she could commute between London and Bournemouth every day. Did she feel the slightest bit of sadness and regret at the prospect? No. It was moments like this that reminded Amelia why she didn’t mind being single sometimes. Having no one to answer to meant she could take off at the drop of a hat without having to explain herself to anyone. She wasn’t held back by emotional blackmail, or guilt for working away from home to earn a living.

  As much as she would have loved a furry companion to go home to at night, they were too much responsibility. They needed feeding, vet visits and companionship, just to name a few, and she wasn’t in the right space to provide any of those. Though Amelia had made a promise to herself that once she was financially solvent, she would have two cats, a dog and a rabbit. And maybe a tortoise.

  Amelia pulled onto the M3, following the signpost to London. According to her Sat Nav, Islington – her final destination, was two hours and thirty minutes away. As she crawled behind the mounting traffic in front, she reached over to the glove compartment to retrieve a CD. Distracted for no more than a few seconds, she hadn’t realised a car had stopped in front of her until it was too late.

  The noise of the two cars making contact startled her more than the actual crash itself.

  Thankfully, she’d only been crawling along at five mph.

  Amelia edged her car onto the hard shoulder and the car in front did the same. The driver of the other car got out and walked around to the rear of her vehicle to inspect the damage.

  Oh shit! By the scowl on the woman’s face, it didn’t look good. In her mind’s eye, Amelia could just see the insurance policy landing on her door mat with an extortionate increase in her premiums.

  The woman turned her attention to Amelia who was still sat in her car, her fingers tightly wound around the steering wheel. Her number one pet hate was confrontation, and the woman standing there waiting for her looked like she liked nothing but getting straight to the point.

  Reluctantly, Amelia released her seatbelt, made a show of rotating her neck and slowly climbed out of the car.

  ‘I’m—’

  ‘Were you on your phone?’ the woman asked accusingly.

  Amelia frowned. ‘What? No, of course not.’

  The look the woman gave her told her that she didn’t believe her. ‘I swear I wasn’t—’

  ‘Then you must have been asleep?’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry. I was looking for something—’

  ‘Looking for something on the motorway?’ the woman said with a shake of her head.

  ‘In my glove compartment.’

  ‘Let me guess, you’re from Bournemouth?’

  ‘I am actually,’ Amelia replied defensively. ‘You got a problem with that?’

  ‘No, what I’ve got a problem with is people who are so accustomed to driving in a town full of oldies, that they forget their senses when they come out into the real world.’

  ‘Now hold on a second—’

  ‘No, you hold on. You could’ve caused a lot of damage.’

  ‘Hardly! I was barely moving.’ Amelia fired back more out of frustration than anything else.

  ‘Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve got valuable stuff in my boot.’

  At this, Amelia felt a prickling sensation behind her eyes. Blinking away the tears, Amelia looked down at the ground.

  When she spoke, her voice was choked with emotion. She hated people raising their voice to her. ‘I’m sorry. I… if… if I’ve damaged anything….’

  As hard as Amelia tried to keep her tears at bay, they wouldn’t obey her, and slowly rolled down her cheeks. Using the back of her hand to wipe them away as she scurried back to her car, she reached inside and retrieved her mobile phone from her bag.

  When she shut the car door, the woman appeared beside her. Her features no longer hard.

  ‘I’m sorry if I was a bit harsh.’

  A bit? Instead of making her feel better, the woman’s kindness only made Amelia feel worse.

  ‘There’s no need for you to apologise,’ Amelia said. ‘I was in the wrong.’

  ‘Yeah, but no damage was done this time. My stuff is okay, the car just has a small scratch. It’s no biggie, let’s just leave it.’ The woman smiled and it transformed her whole face. ‘Are you okay?’

  Amelia nodded.

  The woman’s eyes slowly roamed down Amelia’s body then back up again to her face.

  ‘You’re looking a bit pale. I’ve got some water in my car.’ The woman gestured for Amelia to follow her and she slowly trailed behind.

  The woman leant into her car and backed out holding a bottle of water which she handed to Amelia. ‘When you get to where you’re going, maybe it would be best to have a shot of brandy to put some colour back in your face.’

  Amelia acknowledged the drink with a nod of thanks and took a mouthful. She hadn’t realised how dry her throat was. She took another sip and attempted to give the water back to the woman.

  ‘Keep it.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yes.’ The woman looked at her watch and turned to go. ‘I’d better make a move. Please drive a bit more carefully.’

  ‘Point taken,’ Amelia said. ‘And again, I really am sorry.’

  The woman leant against her car and held Amelia’s gaze, as if she was actually seeing her for the first time. The intensity of her stare caused Amelia’s breath to catch in her throat. If the woman was waiting for her to say something, she was going to be in for a long wait. Amelia was suddenly speechless. She had been so caught up in her head contemplating what could have happened, that she hadn’t realised how attractive the woman standing in front of her was. Did she say attractive? She meant hot! Top of the scale hotness.

  Now is not the time to be checking out the woman whose car you just hit!

  By the time Amelia finally found her voice, the woman had climbed into her car. The engine started and seconds later the car re-joined the traffic, with the woman waving out of the window, leaving Amelia standing there dumbstruck.

  This might not have been the best start to the day, but Amelia was sure things could only get better.

  Chapter Three

  Melissa periodically checked her rear-view mirror until the figure she’d left behind diminished in size, before finally disappearing altogether. Despite her initial irritation at the stranger’s clumsiness, she couldn’t help but smile. For some reason, the woman had left a lasting impression on her, despite only being in her company for five minutes. Five minutes? It normally took weeks for a woman to do that. If at all.

  It was a shame they hadn’t met under more favourable circumstances. If she’d had more time on her hands, Melissa could have asked the stranger if she wanted to go for a coffee at a service station. Of course it would have been under the guise of calming her nerves, but the main objective would have been to get to know her better, much better. Melissa could still see her flushed cheeks. The slight tremble of her lips.

  Melissa gave herself a quick reality check. And I wonder why lesbians get the reputation of falling in love at first sight. Next, I’ll be fantasising about us moving in together and raising babies.

  Right, forget about her, I need to focus. Melissa had a million and one things to do today, and she was already behind. If, for some reason, she fucked up, Vogue would be even more pissed off with her than she already was. ‘Heads are gonna roll’ was one of Vogue’s favourite sayings, and Melissa knew she meant it, having been the recipient of that threat many times.

  Changing lanes, Melissa ran through the mental check list in her mind. Shopping was done – two cases of Cristal champagne. Lobsters and caviar were still intact in iceboxes in the car boot. Nothing but the best for the boss.

  Earlier that day, Melissa thought Vogue had been joking when she’d told Melissa to go and pick up the champagne and food from Dorset. But Melissa should have known better. Vogue’s sense of humour wasn’t that straightforward. She thought her own jokes were amusing but no one else’s. What a waste. Like there aren’t more important things that need to be taken care of.

  But like the dutiful person she was, Melissa had done so without question. Like she always had throughout the time she had worked for Vogue.

  Vogue was the leader and Melissa the follower.

  Vogue always got the girl and Melissa always got the leftovers. The ones she didn’t want or the ones she discarded. The ones who cried on Melissa’s shoulder after Vogue had left them heartbroken.

  Melissa hoped that once she removed herself from Vogue’s shadow, all that would change. As long as she stayed, it would always be the same. It wasn’t that Melissa wasn’t attractive or didn’t have charisma of her own. It was just when Vogue was around, Melissa became invisible. While Vogue played Ms. Charming, mesmerising her prey with her wit and captivating regal air, Melissa could only fade into the background and watch from afar. Yes, she was jealous, madly so, but she knew that one day the boot would be on the other foot. She would be the one lapping up the attention and everything else she deserved.

  Problem was that Melissa just didn’t know when.

  But she would have her day.

  That, she was sure of.

  Chapter Four

  ‘Come on people, in my office now,’ Vogue called out as she strode through the open-plan office area that led directly to a glass-walled conference room. Despite the dire circumstances, a small smile curved her lips as she pushed open the door. It always amused her the way her employees sat erect whenever she made her imposing entrance. Not that she wanted them to be afraid of her. No, but commanding respect was no small feat, especially from a bunch of talented people like most of them were. What it boiled down to was knowing that they needed a leader and Vogue was born to lead. She wasn’t one of those indecisive people who couldn’t tell their arse from their elbow.

  First through the door was Lindsay, Styles Head of Marketing. Vogue looked upon her as a godsend. Bright, intelligent and as fiery as her wild red hair. The woman should have had ‘Ambitious’ tattooed on her forehead. Vogue had never known such a go –getter, apart from herself of course.

  ‘Are you still going to that networking event tonight?’ Lindsay asked.

  Lindsay dropped onto a seat and placed her coffee straight onto the polished oval-shaped table.

  At this, Vogue raised an eyebrow, a gesture that had Lindsay shoot her a sheepish smile as she moved her cup onto a coaster.

  Vogue walked around the table placing a folder before each of the eight seats. ‘It’s been cancelled. Anyway, there’s no point networking if we don’t have a new collection. We’ll all be looking for a job.’

  Vogue didn’t let the thought linger too long in her mind. If the company went bust, she knew she would have to look for a job in another industry altogether. There was no way she would be able to survive the humiliation. It was bad enough she found herself in this position in the first place. Especially as the company being on its last legs was not her doing. Her so called best friend and business partner, Bev, had plagiarized their last collection from a college student, claiming they were her own designs and implied Vogue was in cahoots with her. The student threatened to go public, a move that would not only have ruined the company’s reputation, but Vogue’s name as well.

  The substantial sum Vogue paid to avoid her reputation being tarred, was enough to bring Styles to its knees financially.

  Bev had gone into hiding since the revelation, leaving Vogue to question why she had lied. It wasn’t as if Bev didn’t have the capability to produce amazing work, because she could. She had been doing it for years. So to say this latest episode had hit Vogue like a tonne of bricks was an understatement. If only she knew why Bev had felt the need to betray her, she could at least try and make sense of things. But nothing had been forthcoming from Bev. A woman who Vogue had loved like a sister. A woman who had shit on her from a great height!