Melissa helped herself to her third croissant, before breaking off a large piece, smothering it with home-made strawberry jam and popping it into her mouth. Sophie watched her in fascination. ‘How on earth you manage to stay so slim when you eat so much is an absolute mystery. If I ate anything like the amount you do, I’d be enormous.’
Melissa shrugged, unconcerned. ‘I have a fast metabolism.’
‘You are so LA, Melissa!’ Amy laughed, shaking her head.
‘Well, it’s the truth!’ Melissa protested, polishing off the rest of the croissant in two huge bites.
Amy gave her a sceptical look. ‘I’d say it’s more likely to be all the sex you’re having…’
Sophie frowned. ‘Really? Who are you having lots of sex with?’
‘I’m not!’ Melissa shot back, blushing furiously and shooting a scowl in Amy’s direction. She didn’t want any mention of her relationship with Mark to spoil Sophie’s hen weekend, which Melissa had been planning for months. And it wasn’t as if she was having a relationship with him anyway… Well, not a real one.
‘I think we should go to LA together from now on.’ They were in Mark’s sumptuous offices in central London, the hub of his by-now global TV empire. He was sitting behind the huge, heavy wooden desk, which she often teased him was modelled on the American President’s desk in the Oval Office, not that she’d ever seen it, apart from on The West Wing.
‘Don’t we already go together anyway?’ Melissa was watching a DVD of the latest episode of their American singing talent show, which had just been delivered. Mark was supposed to be watching it too but he kept being distracted by calls and texts on his mobile. She was pointedly trying not to take too much notice of who was calling.
‘I meant, we should travel together, rather than just meeting each other there.’ He flashed her a flirtatious, perfect, white smile. Melissa looked at him and pondered how much he had changed physically since the days when she’d known him as a lowly record executive. Although he had lost weight, developed a six-pack thanks to his daily workouts with a personal trainer, and now had suspiciously fewer wrinkles, she often thought she preferred the old Mark.
Back then, he smoked too much, drank too much and, like her, probably did too many drugs, but she had always thought he was gorgeous and great fun. He had sleepy-looking dark brown eyes, framed with long black lashes and a throaty, slightly filthy laugh to complement his wickedly sharp sense of humour.
Melissa pulled her eyes away from him and pretended to concentrate on the show she was watching, but a tiny thrill of excitement passed through her. This was the first time Mark had really acknowledged that there was something going on between them. Usually, they arrived separately in LA and met up at the hotel. She would go to his room, supposedly to catch up on work matters, then invariably she would end up spending the night with him.
But unlike any relationship she had ever had before, it was about so much more than sex with Mark. She would never, ever admit it to anyone, but over the past year she had been steadily falling in love with him. She knew it was futile. Mark had a string of beautiful women at his beck and call and he had never led her to believe that their relationship was in any way exclusive. But she couldn’t help it. He was like a drug to her and it wasn’t a drug that she wanted to give up.
‘So… what do you think?’ he prompted, jolting her out of her thoughts.
‘I thought you were always paranoid about being photographed with any women…?’
Mark shrugged. ‘You’re a work colleague. Nothing more.’ There was a mischievous glint in his eye.
‘So is Sophie.’ Melissa met his gaze with a mischievous look of her own.
Mark smiled. ‘Yes, that’s true, darling, but as Sophie runs the UK side of the business, there’s no need for her to travel to LA every couple of weeks the way we do.’
Melissa loved it when he talked about ‘we’. ‘Well, I’m not sure what difference it would make for us to travel together…’ she began, although in truth she loved the idea and was never in a million years going to turn him down.
‘The difference is that we’d be together for the whole trip. I like that thought.’ He flashed her another smile and held her gaze with his beautiful, liquid brown eyes.
Melissa groaned inwardly. She wished he didn’t have such a hold over her. She knew she ought to put a stop to it. Tell him she wasn’t going to be used any more. But the truth was she kept hoping he might one day feel the same way about her as she did about him.
She had never let Sophie know how she was feeling because she felt sure she knew exactly what Sophie would say. ‘Don’t waste your time.’ Or: ‘You’ll only get hurt.’ And she would be right. But Melissa didn’t want to hear it. She turned towards Mark and gave him her most seductive smile. ‘I’d love to.’
After those first few heady trips together, Melissa also found herself spending more and more time at Mark’s house in London. He had just bought a magnificent town house in Holland Park, which wasn’t far from her two-bedroom flat in Kensington.
He had developed a habit of calling her late at night and telling her he couldn’t sleep, before begging her to come over. A little voice inside her head told her it was nothing more than a booty call and she should have more respect for herself than to go running every time he clicked his fingers. But she just didn’t have the willpower to resist him.
It was as she was sneaking out of the house early one morning after one of his calls, that she came face to face with Amy, who was unpacking a vast array of food in the kitchen. True to his word, Mark had put a lot of work Amy’s way and booked her to cater for numerous dinner parties, which had in turn thrown her into the path of other potential clients. As a result, her fledgling business was already booming.
‘Oh!’ Amy gasped, putting her hand to her chest as Melissa tiptoed past the kitchen, wearing just her underwear. ‘Melissa! God, you gave me a fright!’ she added, relaxing as she recognized who it was, as if it was the most natural sight in the world to see her friend semi-naked in someone else’s hallway.
Melissa froze in horror, holding her breath, hoping it would somehow make her less conspicuous.
As she watched her, Amy smiled to herself and continued unpacking before realization dawned and her head suddenly snapped up again. ‘Melissa?’ she repeated. ‘What the hell are you doing here…?’ As she spoke, her eyes slid down to the scrunched-up pile of clothes Melissa was clutching.
Melissa closed her eyes and groaned. ‘Shit,’ she hissed, dropping the pile of clothes onto the wooden hall floor and fishing out her T-shirt, which she quickly slipped over her head. ‘I could just as easily ask you the same thing,’ she mumbled, knowing she was trying to buy time to think up a plausible excuse.
‘Umm… how about, I’m here to do this…?’ Her voice heavy with sarcasm, Amy swept her hand over the granite worktop, covered with food.
Melissa pulled on her jeans and padded into the kitchen, still doing up her zip. ‘Look, Amy. Don’t mention to Sophie that you’ve seen me here, will you?’
Amy adopted a disapproving expression. ‘I don’t like keeping things from Sophie. It makes me feel disloyal.’
Melissa rolled her eyes. ‘It’s not being disloyal, it’s protecting her feelings.’
Amy looked doubtful. ‘Why would Sophie care whether you’re sleeping with Mark or not? She’s very happy with Steve.’
‘I know that.’ Melissa tried to keep her tone as patient as possible. ‘It’s just that sometimes she gets a bit possessive… In a work sense,’ she added, seeing that Amy was about to object. ‘I just think there’s no need to mention it to her.’
Amy sighed. ‘I don’t know… it feels wrong, somehow.’
‘Look,’ Melissa began, changing tack. ‘Why do you think Mark gave you so much work when he didn’t even know anything about you?’
Amy didn’t reply, although she squinted slightly, as if trying to work out what Melissa was up to.
‘It was because I asked him to. It was a favour to me.’ Melissa hoped Amy wouldn’t argue that Mark would have done exactly the same for Sophie.
‘I know… and I’m very grateful to you.’ Amy resumed her unpacking, looking flustered.
‘So if you want to repay that favour… maybe you could promise not to say anything to Sophie? Or Emily? Or anyone, actually.’
Amy smiled to herself suddenly and Melissa exhaled with relief. She knew she’d won her over.
‘Oh, OK. But I really do think you’re making more out of it than you need to. You’re a grown-up. What you get up to in your own spare time is up to you.’
‘I agree.’ Melissa swung her leather jacket over her shoulders and pushed her feet into her strappy sandals. ‘But probably best to say nothing all the same.’
‘I’ve agreed, haven’t I?’ Amy retorted. ‘So… how long has it been going on then? Are you and Mark an item?’
Melissa had turned to leave but she stopped and walked over to the counter where Amy was standing. ‘No,’ she said, leaning her elbows on the worktop.
Amy looked at her carefully. ‘But you’d like to be?’
‘No,’ Melissa replied automatically. ‘He’s not the type to settle down. We’re just having fun.’
Amy nodded. ‘Well, as long as you’re both having fun. The problems start when one is keener than the other.’ She glanced up at Melissa. ‘And he’s a bit of player, Melissa.…’
Melissa could feel herself reddening. ‘I know that!’ Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to her. ‘He hasn’t… made a move on you, has he?’ Melissa wouldn’t blame him. Amy was looking radiant at the moment and if she had been ten years younger, she could easily have had a career as a top model.
Amy laughed. ‘No! Of course not. I’m far too tall for him.…’ She winked at Melissa, who could feel the relief flooding through her. ‘But,’ she continued. ‘He does seem to have quite a few girlfriends.… Doesn’t that bother you?’
‘No,’ Melissa lied, unable to meet Amy’s eye. ‘We’re both free agents and can see whoever we want.’ She didn’t mention that she didn’t see anyone apart from Mark. ‘We’re just “friends with benefits”,’ she added breezily.
Amy raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, good luck to you, sweetie. As long as you promise not to fall in love with him, I’m very happy for you.’
Melissa held up three fingers. ‘I promise. Brownie’s honour.’
‘So, how do you want to spend your last day in LA, then, Sophie?’
‘Well,’ Sophie began, looking around the breakfast table, preparing for the reaction to what she was about to say. ‘I would like to go shopping for my wedding dress.’
‘What!’ They exploded in unison.
‘Surely you haven’t left it this late to buy the most important dress of your life?’ Melissa gasped. ‘You’re the most organized person I know – and a total control freak, at that…’
‘Gee, thanks!’ Sophie muttered.
‘So, why would you leave getting your dress until the last minute? It doesn’t make sense.’ Melissa sat back and frowned suspiciously at Sophie.
‘It makes perfect sense to me.’ Sophie said, enjoying the moment. Melissa was right – she rarely did anything spontaneous and was always super-organized. ‘I wanted you all to be with me when I bought it and that hasn’t really been a possibility, what with Amy always busy at weekends, catering for rock stars and tycoons, and of course, Emily having to spend so much time in hospital with Jack…’ She glanced at Emily, who nodded her acknowledgement.
‘So,’ she continued. ‘I thought we could get it here in LA, while we’re all together.’
‘That’s such a lovely idea, Soph.’ Amy gave Sophie a wide smile. ‘I’m so chuffed that you wanted us with you.’
‘Of course it’s a great idea,’ Melissa agreed, eyeing a fourth croissant contemplatively. ‘It’s just a bit of a surprise, that’s all. Right, well, I will just finish this last pastry…’ She picked up the croissant and took a huge bite, causing buttery flakes to drop all over her chin. ‘And then we can go shopping. Literally, my idea of heaven.’
‘So, shall we try Rodeo Drive first?’ Sophie glanced at Melissa, marvelling at her driving skills, as she sped expertly through the wide boulevards of Beverly Hills. She had been to LA many times for work but she didn’t particularly like the place and would certainly never consider living here, unlike Melissa who seemed as though she already did.
‘Nope,’ Melissa retorted, flashing Sophie a mischievous grin.
‘But… where then?’
‘Leave it to me. I know exactly where to go.’ Melissa took her hand off the wheel and tapped the side of her nose conspiratorially.
They drove in silence for a few more minutes, before Melissa pulled into a car park underneath what looked to her like an ordinary office block. ‘Where are we?’ Sophie hissed. ‘I’m not hoping to buy stationery supplies!’
‘Shh!’ Melissa opened the car window and leaned out to speak into an intercom. ‘Hi there, Geneva? It’s Melissa!’
‘Melissa Williams?’ replied a woman’s voice, the line cracking slightly with static. ‘How lovely to hear from you! Wait – are you in the parking garage?’
‘Yes. Look, I know we don’t have a reservation.…’ Melissa began, as Sophie started to giggle at her sudden transatlantic drawl. ‘But a very, very dear friend of mine is getting married and I would really love her to be able to look at your dresses. We’re going home to the UK this evening, so it’s kinda now or never!’
There was a snort of laughter from Amy in the back seat. ‘She can’t be serious!’ she whispered to Emily, who was also sniggering quietly.
There was a tiny pause on the other end of the line, before the tinny voice replied: ‘Sure she can! Why don’t you park and come right on up?’
‘Melissa…’ Sophie gripped her arm in panic. ‘I’m not sure this is such a good idea. I don’t want to feel pressurized into buying something. Can’t we just go to Barney’s or somewhere instead?’
Melissa drove through the barrier. ‘You are not getting your wedding dress from bloody Barney’s! Don’t worry,’ she soothed, patting Sophie’s leg reassuringly. ‘Trust me.’
As soon as the lift doors opened, Sophie relaxed. In front of her was a vast, sumptuous room decorated with exquisite taste and filled with the scent of lilies and luxuriously scented candles. Along every wall hung rows and rows of bridal gowns in various shades of white, pink and cream. She stepped onto the deep, plush carpet, hardly daring to breathe, in case she broke the spell.
She needn’t have worried. ‘Geneva!’ Melissa squealed, throwing herself at a stunningly attractive, tall, slim, black woman, who looked like she had just stepped off a catwalk, wearing a white designer trouser suit and eye-wateringly high black stilettos.
‘Melissa, honey, you are a bad, bad girl! Why didn’t you call me up if you were in town?’ Geneva wagged her finger at Melissa mockingly.
‘Sorry, honey, I couldn’t.’ Melissa motioned towards the three others, standing shyly behind her. ‘This is my friend Sophie’s hen weekend and it was my job to organize it.’
Geneva fixed her huge, dark, almond-shaped eyes on Sophie and gasped prettily. ‘Her hen weekend?’
Melissa nodded. ‘Yup.’
‘So… you mean she’s getting married pretty soon?’
‘Yup.’ Melissa shrugged and threw her hands up in exasperation. ‘One month’s time…’
‘OK.’ Geneva was instantly businesslike, as she fixed Sophie with a long, appraising stare that made her instantly regret dressing in jeans and a T-shirt. ‘In that case, let’s get started!’
While Geneva ushered Sophie into a changing room and ordered her to strip, Melissa instantly became like a child in a toy shop, as she danced excitedly from dress to dress, picking them up and holding them against her tiny, perfect frame.
‘Look at this one!’ she cried, sashaying into the changing room with a fussy, lace concoction that would have looked a million dollars on Melissa, but would have made Sophie look like a giant toilet-roll cover.
‘Um, I don’t think so,’ Sophie said tactfully, as she stood in her underwear, waiting for Geneva to reappear.
‘Melissa!’ Amy shouted from outside in the salon, where she was lounging on a chaise longue, sipping a glass of champagne. ‘We’re here to get Sophie a wedding dress, not you!’
Melissa stuck her bottom lip out. ‘Doesn’t mean I can’t try them too, though, does it?’ She looked up at Sophie for approval.
Sophie grimaced. ‘I’d rather you didn’t – there isn’t a dress in here that wouldn’t look better on you than it does on me.’
‘Oh, now, honey, that’s just where you’re wrong,’ drawled Geneva, returning to the changing room with an armful of dresses, which she hung neatly from every available hook.
Sophie scanned the dresses she’d chosen for her. All of them were strapless. ‘I’m not sure strapless is the right look for me.’ Sophie gave Geneva a doubtful look. ‘I don’t have the arms for it.…’
But Geneva either hadn’t heard her or was choosing to ignore her because before Sophie could object, she was manhandling her into one of the gowns. It was the first time she had ever been dressed by someone taller than her, who didn’t make her feel like a lumpy giant, and Sophie began to feel a frisson of excitement, as Geneva expertly buttoned the gown and smoothed it down over her hips with a flourish. ‘There, that’s the one,’ she said, as she stood back to admire her handiwork.
‘But it’s only the first one I’ve tried!’
Geneva nodded. ‘I know. But you’ll choose this one. Here, step into these shoes,’ she ordered, slipping Sophie’s feet into some exquisitely dainty, crystal-encrusted sandals.
‘Can I see?’ Sophie tried to open the curtain to get to the mirror but Geneva blocked her way.
‘Just a minute.’ She reached out and grabbed Sophie’s long, thick hair, and twisted it deftly it into a knot on top of her head, securing it with a beautiful, diamond-encrusted clip. ‘There. Now you can look.’
Sophie stepped once more onto the thick, pale carpet and walked out into the room where Melissa, Emily and Sophie were all reclining on separate chaises. One by one, they sat up and their mouths dropped open.
‘Oh, Sophie,’ Amy put her hand over her mouth, as she let out a gasp. ‘You look absolutely beautiful.’
‘You do…’ Emily agreed, smiling at Sophie like a proud mother. ‘Really stunning.’
‘What do you think, Liss?’ Sophie turned to Melissa, who was uncharacteristically quiet.
‘I think,’ Melissa said, standing up and raising her champagne flute towards Sophie, ‘that there isn’t one single dress in here that would look as good on me as that one does on you.’
Sophie could feel her eyes filling with tears. She had never felt like a great beauty. She had always compared herself unfavourably with the others, feeling bigger, lumpier, uglier. But as she twirled in front of the giant, gilt mirror, for the first time in her life, she was prepared to admit that she looked almost beautiful.