‘My hair colour bothers me for starters. It’s too red,’ she said, touching it gingerly with her equally red nails.
‘Honey, you can carry off red now,’ he reassured softly.
‘Oh…’ She blushed prettily. ‘But don’t you think the make-up girl put too much foundation on me? I look like a ghost.’
‘No, you don’t. That’s the fashion. You know, that’s the slinkiest bridesmaid dress I think I’ve ever seen,’ he remarked, shaking his head as his gaze ran down the dress again.
It was a turquoise silk sheath, with thin shoulder straps and a fitted waist that showed off Rachel’s nice bustline and tiny waist to perfection. The skirt was straight and slender, and fell to mid-calf, with a slanted hem from which hung strands of crystal beads. Under this rather provocative feature her legs were bare, yet looked as smooth and shiny as they would if covered in the most expensive stockings. Her feet were shod in turquoise high heels, which matched the colour of the dress and had open toes, showing scarlet-painted toes. She smelled faintly of jasmine, possibly from a scented oil used to massage her skin. Her arms, Justin also noted as his eyes travelled back up to her face, looked as soft and shiny as her legs, probably the result of a full body massage today.
That beauty salon deserved a medal for the miracle it had managed in one short day. Not that he’d tell Rachel that. Despite her fab new look, her self-esteem was still wavering, which was a problem. Frankly, he’d been looking forward to exacting some well-deserved revenge on rotten exes tonight, and he needed Rachel’s full co-operation to achieve that end. Clearly, her confidence still needed some more boosting.
‘You look good enough to eat, Rachel. Eric the Mongrel is going to be jealous as sin when I walk into that dinner party with you on my arm.’
‘I think it’s Eric’s girlfriend who might be the jealous one,’ Rachel returned as she looked him up and down.
Justin was surprised but pleased that she thought him attractive. It would make his plan for the evening run smoother. ‘Yes, we’ve both cleaned up rather well, haven’t we? Come on, let’s go and put a cat amongst the pigeons. Do you have a bag?’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘No need. It’s not as though we have to go outside. There’ll be no wind to mess up your hair. If you feel in the need for any repairs during the night you can always whip up here in the lift. I’ll have my key card with me.’
‘Yes, I might need to do that after dinner. I always eat off my lipstick, though the make-up girl who did me up said this particular brand is renowned for not coming off. She said it’s the one the actresses use who make blue movies.’
Justin laughed and started shepherding Rachel towards the door. ‘That’s handy to know. So if you disappear under the tablecloth at any time tonight I’ll feel confident you’ll resurface still looking immaculate.’
When she looked scandalised Justin tut-tutted. ‘Come, now, Rachel, try to get with the spirit of this occasion. Remember, I’m not just your boss for tonight. I’m your lover as well.’
‘What?’ She ground to a startled halt.
Justin was taken aback. ‘I thought you understood that was part of my plan. Look, how else are we going to get up Eric the Mongrel’s nose, unless he thinks we’re a hot item? We want him to believe you haven’t missed him one bit, that you’ve survived his callous dumping; you did your duty to Lettie like the angel you are and are now moving on to a much more exciting and fulfilling life than you would have had married to him. You’re looking better than ever. You live in a fantastic town house at Turramurra. And you have this great new job, with a handsome, successful, besotted boss who can’t keep his hands off you.’
‘But…but I wouldn’t like having a boss like that!’
‘You might not, but it’s some men’s fantasy. And some women’s. Trust me on that. I would imagine it was right up Eric the Mongrel’s alley.’
‘You have to stop calling him that or I’m going to giggle all night.’
‘That’s all right. Giggling’s good.’
‘But it’s not me.’
‘It can be. You can be anything you want to be tonight. The point of this exercise is to show your ex that he doesn’t know you at all, if he ever did. And to make him want the new you like crazy!’
‘I…I don’t think…’
‘Now, thinking’s a definite no-no for this evening as well. Thinking rarely does anyone any good. Just follow my lead, honey, and everything will be fine.’
When he took her elbow he felt her resistance and stared down at her. She stared back up at him.
‘You called me honey.’
‘Well, I’m not going to call you Rachel all the time. Sounds far too platonic. OK, so honey’s out. How about the occasional darling? Yes, that’s much better. Much classier. Come along, Cinders, darling,’ Justin said with a rueful smile. ‘It’s time to go to the ball.’
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_f5ee7cef-5864-5e0f-8aa6-d8b48e233398)
RACHEL stood silently by Justin’s side in the ride down in the lift, her stomach twisted into nervous knots.
How could she possibly carry this charade off? It was…beyond her. She might be looking good on the outside but inside she was still the same Rachel who’d run into Eric yesterday and bolted like a frightened horse. Fear rippled down her spine and invaded every pore in her body. The thought of confronting her ex with his new lady-love held nothing but a sick-making apprehension.
‘I…I can’t do this, Justin,’ she whispered just as the lift stopped at one of the floors on the way down to the lobby.
‘Yes, you can,’ he reassured firmly.
The lift doors whooshed back and there, waiting for the lift, were the objects of her fear.
Rachel sucked in sharply.
‘I gather that’s Eric the Mongrel,’ Justin whispered.
‘Yes,’ she choked out, not feeling at all like giggling at the silly nickname this time. Eric the Magnificent would be more like it. He really was a drop-dead gorgeous-looking guy, especially in a dinner suit. Charlotte was no slouch in the looks department, either, the passing years seeming to have enhanced her darkly striking beauty. Tall and supermodel-slim, she was chic personified with her concave-cut dark brown bob and elegant black dress.
‘Charlotte, come on,’ Eric said impatiently, stepping forward to hold the lift doors open whilst not giving its occupants a second glance.
Charlotte, who’d been checking her hair and make-up in the hall mirror when the lift doors opened, finally swung round. ‘Keep your shirt on, lover,’ she said. ‘These things never start on time.’
As Charlotte walked past Eric into the lift he glanced up over her shoulder and finally noticed Rachel in the corner, his face registering instant recognition this time, plus considerable shock.
‘Good lord!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s Rachel. You remember Rachel, Charlotte. Rachel Witherspoon.’
Rachel would later wonder where her courage—and her composure—came from. Possibly from the look of surprise on that bitch’s face as she surveyed Rachel from top to toe.
‘So it is,’ Charlotte said. ‘Fancy seeing you here, of all people.’ Her sexily slanting black eyes soon slid over to Justin. Women like Charlotte never looked at other women for long when there were attractive men around.
Meanwhile, Eric kept staring at her as though she were a little green man from Mars.
‘I was just thinking the same about you two,’ Rachel returned, proud as punch of her cool control. ‘I gather you’re together? This is my boss, Justin McCarthy,’ she swept on, not giving either of them the chance to answer. ‘Justin, these are friends of mine, Eric Farmer and Charlotte—er—sorry. I can’t seem to recall your second name, Charlotte.’
‘Raper.’
‘Oh, yes. Raper…’ A ghastly surname. ‘So what brings you two up to the Gold Coast this weekend? Business, or pleasure?’
Eric muttered ‘Pleasure’ the same time as Charlotte said ‘Business’. After Charlotte shot him an angry look he changed his answer to ‘Both’. But he looked far from happy.
Rachel had to smile at having rattled Eric so easily. Justin was right. A spot of revenge was a good salve for old wounds. But she still wasn’t sure about pretending she and Justin were lovers.
‘And you?’ Eric finally thought to ask. ‘Are you here for business or pleasure?’ He too was assessing Justin on the quiet, Rachel noticed. And perhaps not feeling his usual male superiority. For, as glamorous as Eric still looked at first glance, up close there was some evidence he was beginning to go to seed. He was becoming jowly, his crowning glory was thinning on top and his stomach was no longer athletically flat.
Frankly, he was looking a bit flabby. Of course, he had to be going on forty nowadays, whereas Justin was in his earlier thirties. Justin was taller than Eric, too. Taller and fitter and possibly more attractive, Rachel was surprised to discover.