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‘Costa Rica?’

‘Yes. Beautiful place.’

‘When did you decide that?’

‘It’s always been a dream,’ he told her, a tranquil smile on his lips.

Leigh was glad he was happy, but she was shitting a brick. There had to be more obstacles to her career progression than one fucked ventricle. ‘You know what? We’re jumping the gun, anyway. My promotion would have to go past the senior partners,’ she noted.

‘With my recommendation, which will be glowing, I don’t think that’s going to be an issue,’ Jack assured her dismissively.

‘This is happening too fast,’ Leigh said, her heart banging loudly in her chest. Wasshegoing to have a heart attack now? ‘You nearly died a few hours ago. You’re just panicking.’

‘No,you’repanicking,’ Jack smiled. ‘I’m feeling good. I mean, I feel likeshit. But this feels right. Give it a minute to sink in. You’ll be glad this happened.’

‘I would never be glad you nearly died, Jack. I can promise you that.’

‘Well, maybe you should,’ he mused. ‘You’re talented, smart, hardworking, and you’ll go the extra mile for any client. But for yourself? You can’t seem to do it. You sell yourself short. It’s your only flaw, but it’s a big one in this business. You need to be cockier. Be bold.’

Leigh was a bit shocked that Jack knew this about her. But she couldn’t argue. She didn’t like to ask for more than she felt due. She saw people outpace her all the time as a result.

She liked to think she ran her own race. But now? The race felt like it was running her.

Three

Isabelle Kane was on a massage table in the centre of her enormous, lavishly furnished living room.

‘I’m sorry to do it like this, but the stress of this situation… I’m positively brittle from it. If someone knocked into me, I’d shatter into a million pieces,’ Isabelle murmured through the gap in the table while her shoulders were aggressively kneaded by a silent, muscly woman.

Alex nodded. ‘Sure.’ When you dealt with the wealthy, you had to adjust your expectations of how things would go. And how they would go was however the hell the rich person wanted them to. ‘So, let’s start at the beginning.’

Isabelle moaned, long and deep, enjoying a particularly deep tissue rub. ‘It’s confidential, yes?’ she managed to utter.

‘Between you and me? Yes.’ Alex threw a glance at the masseuse, who raised an eyebrow.

‘No need to worry about Greta. She’s like a sister to me,’ Isabelle moaned.

A sister you pay,Alex thought. But it was Isabelle’s call.

Greta removed her hands from Isabelle. ‘Actually, we’re about done.’

Isabelle sat up, and Alex had to swivel her head quickly not to get an eyeful. Isabelle was basically naked. Then she came over and sat on a chair, and Alex was relieved to see she was in a robe. Greta had slipped out.

It was Alex’s first time getting a good look at the actress up close. She was in her early fifties, but some very good surgical work had her more in the early forties range.

Her hair was a brilliant white blonde, shoulder length and slightly wavy. She was a fox, it had to be said. Not that Alex cared too much. She met beautiful people regularly and had developed a good immunity to gorgeous women.

‘Right, well, I’m not sure what you already know…’ Isabelle began.

‘Even though you’re obviously famous and your relationship had been very reported on, I find it best that clients assume I know nothing,’ Alex told her, a practised line of hers.

‘That’s probably best. The media makes it all up anyway,’ Isabelle said tiredly.

‘I’m sure,’ Alex smiled. ‘So, start where you think is pertinent, and I’ll ask questions if needed.’

‘I’m about to go through a divorce, and I would rather like it if my reputation didn’t suffer as a result. And I’ve got a feeling it will. So I’m getting ahead of that now. That’s where you come in.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’