Page 218 of Private Lives

‘You wouldn’t look like a loser.’

‘Right. The sad, single sister at the back who the groom cheated on. I almost had a solution. Sam said he’d come with me, although that’s obviously not happening now. Probably a good thing, mind you. People might have thought I was a right bitch, trying to upstage the bride.’

‘Rubbish. If I had the chance to take Cameron Diaz to a traitorous sibling’s wedding, I’d be there like a shot. Shame I haven’t got any siblings, or Cameron Diaz on my tail, although Erica Sheldon was definitely after me a few weeks ago.’

‘Dream on, Casanova,’ Anna said, laughing. Her T-shirt slipped off one shoulder. Matt suddenly found himself wanting to kiss her there.

‘If you don’t fancy an A-list actor on your arm, what about a slightly going-to-seed solicitor?’

‘Are we talking about Larry here?’

He smiled. ‘Actually, I meant me.’

‘You’d come to Tuscany?’

‘Well it’s Tuscany or watching the cricket with a takeaway.’

‘You do look good in a suit,’ she mused.

‘Glad you think so.’

‘According to the secretaries, who have a sweepstake on who’s going to sleep with you first, you look snappiest in the navy single-breasted.’

‘And I didn’t think they cared.’

She paused.

‘You wouldn’t seriously consider it, would you?’

‘Well, my son’s at a sleepover this weekend. And I do need a tan.’ As he looked at her, he could almost feel the adrenalin surging around his body.

Be with the person who makes your heart beat faster. Wasn’t that what his father had told him? Twenty-five years of neglect, then Larry Donovan had come out with a happy life’s most precious secret.

For a moment he thought about his father, and his efforts to make it work with Loralee. The heart wants what it wants, he smiled to himself.

‘I’d love to come with you, Anna.’

‘You’ll never get a flight,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Not at this late notice.’

‘I believe the firm has the most efficient travel agent in the business. An old female friend of Larry’s.’

‘That figures.’

‘Right then,’ said Matt, taking out his phone. ‘Do you think I can get business class on expenses?’

70

Dressed and ready for the day in a pale blue YSL suit, Helen sat in her kitchen looking out of the French windows, her fingers curled around a mug of coffee. She listened to the early morning birdsong, wondering what they were saying to each other. She’d been up since four, watching the night sky fade and turn a muted shade of lavender, rising up over the horizon like a peacock unfolding its tail. The weather was going to be glorious; she didn’t need to watch the weather forecast to know that much: warm and balmy, a beautiful late summer’s day. How ironic, she thought, checking her watch, knowing it was time to leave for Chelsea.

She turned as she heard footsteps. Graham walked in, yawning and ineffectually smoothing down his bedhead hair.

‘Are you going?’

She nodded.

‘Soon.’

Her eyes strayed to the documents sitting on the breakfast bar.