Page 8 of Private Lives

For a moment Anna couldn’t breathe, her heart thudding, her mind racing. She knew they were both staring at her, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the floor. Deep down she had known what her mother had wanted to tell her. The newspapers had been on to the story, but she had wanted to ignore the whispers.

‘He proposed last month and they want to do it quickly, first week in September, so not long,’ said her dad. ‘You know what Sophie is like once she gets an idea in her head. And she wants you to come, of course.’

Anna willed herself to inhale.

‘Oh darling, it’s going to be lovely,’ said Sue. ‘We offered to host it here, of course, but Sophie wanted to have it at Andrew’s parents’ place, that villa in Tuscany.’

The most beautiful house in the world. That was what Anna had thought when Andrew had taken her to Villa Sole on a romantic break. She’d even had a few thoughts about having her own wedding there, not that she and Andrew had ever talked about marriage in their three years together. They were too busy with their lives and their careers. I thought we were happy. Maybe they had been. Just not happy enough.

‘Can’t you come? Or at least think about it.’

Brian’s sad, regretful expression was enough to make her resolve wobble.

She pictured her sister and her ex stepping out of some idyllic Tuscan church, ducking and laughing as they were showered with confetti. Andrew’s witty, romantic after-dinner speech, telling everyone how much he was in love with his new bride. No, she couldn’t put herself through it.

‘I can’t, Dad, it’s work . . .’ she said, searching for a reason.

‘Oh, just leave her then, Brian,’ said Sue impatiently. ‘You know work always comes first with her. That’s always been the problem, hasn’t it?’

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing,’ said Sue. ‘Just that Sophie has always been able to juggle her personal and professional life.’

‘And that’s why Andrew’s marrying her, not me?’

‘Come on, you two,’ said Brian soothingly. ‘Let’s not make this bigger than it has to be. We’re going out to Italy for the week, there’s lots planned apparently. But I’m sure Davidson’s won’t mind you having a couple of days off, will they?’

The hangover buzzing lightly between her temples presented a solution.

‘Actually, Dad, it’s not Davidson’s that’s the problem. I’ve just got a new job, starting soon. I can’t really take a holiday as soon as I’ve got there, can I?’

‘A new job?’ said Brian, looking at his wife uncertainly. ‘That’s fantastic.’

Anna felt buoyed, heady, steeled.

‘Yes, I was only offered it yesterday. Donovan Pierce, they’re the most prestigious media law firm in the country. It’s a big step up for me, a trial for a partnership there.’

‘Well done, love.’

Her mother pulled a sour face.

‘I still don’t see why you can’t come to the wedding. There’s more to life than work, you know.’

Anna drained her glass, her mind made up.

‘Not for me, Mum,’ she said. ‘Not any more.’

2

At any other time, Sam Charles would have thought he had woken up in heaven. Lying on his back in a soft, warm bed, crisp cotton sheets against his skin, he could feel a gorgeous swelling, lapping sensation around his cock.

‘Mmm . . .’ he moaned, receiving a similar murmur from under the sheets. His mouth curled into a grin. God, a good-morning blowjob; how long had it been since he’d had one of those? Jessica must have . . .

‘Shit . . .’ he gasped, sitting up too suddenly, sending lights flashing across his vision. He pushed himself up against the headboard – a headboard, he suddenly realised, he had never seen before – and looked down into the green eyes of a very pretty redhead, her expression poised somewhere between amused and seductive.

‘Did I do something wrong?’ she asked.

‘No. Yes,’ he stuttered, looking around the room for clues, something, anything familiar to tell him where he was.