Page 11 of Broken Beyond Repair

Sam continued. “Assuming you brought her.”

“Of course,” Sydney said, “though she’s not in great shape.”

James chuckled. “That’s an understatement. She sounded like she’s on twenty a day on the way here.”

“I could take a look at her tomorrow if you like?” Sam said, plopping his glass on the table.

“Thanks,” Sydney said. “That would be great.”

Rosie crossed her arms and interrupted. “Erm, excuse me, day one of cat-sitting and you’re already abandoning your post?”

James had put two and two together at this point. “Can I assume Napoleon is the someone you are ditching Beatrice Russell for?” he asked.

“Syd!” Rosie cried. “How could you agree to cat-sit when you’ve got an opportunity like that? Beatrice Russell is, like, one of the most famous actresses in the world.”

“Even I’d choose her over Napoleon, Syd.” Greg laughed, earning him a scowl from Rosie. “Not over you, though, obviously, my beautiful wife.”

Sydney had to give him style points for his backtracking abilities.

“I should think so too! I loved her in that film with that woman. Oh, what was it called?” Rosie said, clicking her fingers.

“I’ve never heard of her and have no wish to,” Sydney said, firmly in James’s direction.

“I’d bet the last film you watched wasJurassic Park. The original one.” James scrunched his face at her.

Sydney shrugged. “I prefer books. Shoot me.”

“Didn’t Beatrice Russell break her leg on set yesterday?” Sam asked.

Sydney scowled at James. “Didn’t think to mention that? So you’d have me waiting on her hand and foot?”

“Yes,” James conceded. “It’s live-in on her estate in the South Downs. It’s not exactly far. You could easily pop in on the bloody cat.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, Rosie,” he apologized. “I’m sure Napoleon is adorable.”

“I’ve been working non-stop for months,” Sydney protested. “I promised myself some time off.”

Rosie reached forward and placed her phone under Sydney’s nose.

“This is her; you must know her face at least.”

Sydney closed her mouth before she could embarrass herself with involuntary noises. Beatrice Russell was… exquisite. Her blonde, shoulder-length wavy hair encased an oval face, and her dazzling blue eyes were perched upon prominent, high cheekbones. An ethereal beauty.

In the picture on Rosie’s screen, the actress was dressed in a red, off-the-shoulder silk dress with heels. Perched on a stool, Beatrice Russell’s long dress was pulled up to her knees, showing off a pair of long, shapely legs. An attractive diamond necklace pulled the eye down to her ample cleavage. She resembled a predator about to devour its prey — after she’d fully intimidated it.

“Syd?”

Sydney glanced up at James, not wanting to take her eyes away from the photo.

“You’ve got a bit of drool, just there.” He grinned as he rubbed the side of his mouth.

Her face flushed; she hoped no one would notice. “Shut it.”

“I think we all have… and not only from the mouth.”

“Eww!” Rosie slapped Greg playfully across the arm and popped her phone down the top of her wedding dress. “I’m sorry, Will. You’ve only just met us all, and some of us are already lowering the tone.”