Flora turned to face the plump, sandy-haired girl sitting in the seat beside her.
Georgie held up the book for her inspection. ‘It’s the very latest novel by Duncan Ross. Quite honestly, I hardly got a wink of sleep last night!’ she added enthusiastically. ‘It’s so exciting that I simply couldn’t put it down. I’m on the last chapter, so I’ll lend it to you when I’m finished. I know you’re going to love it.’
‘I doubt it!’ Flora muttered, grimacing at the sight of the book’s dramatic, vividly coloured dust-jacket—mainly featuring a gruesome, evil-looking dagger dripping with blood. ‘To tell you the truth, I really don’t care for those sort of “action man” type of books, which I reckon are mostly written for overgrown schoolboys.’
‘You’re quite wrong—it’s not that sort of book at all!’ the other girl protested.
Flora merely smiled and shook her head. ‘We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. So I think I’ll just try and catch up on some beauty sleep.’
‘Come off it!’ Georgie gave a hoot of wry laughter, gazing enviously at the thick cloud of tightly curled blonde hair and beautiful features of the slim girl now reclining in the seat beside her. ‘As far as I can see, you need more beauty sleep about as much as fish need bicycles!’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’ Flora grinned before determinedly closing her eyes against any further conversation.
In fact, following the late photographic session last night and an early dash to the airport this morning, she really was feeling a bit sleepy. The steady rhythmic background hum of the plane’s engines wasn’t helping, of course—nor her deep, comfortable seat in the First Class section of the aircraft, which was positively encouraging her to nod off.
And that, now she came to think about it, probably wasn’t such a bad idea after all. She knew, from past experience, that the dry, pressurised air in the cabin was likely to play havoc with the texture of her fine, delicate skin. Besides, if she made the mistake of drinking any alcohol during the flight she would undoubtedly find herself arriving at Antigua for their onward flight to a small private island looking thoroughly tired and washed out.
Not that it would normally matter, of course. Most of the passengers on the plane were anticipating a well-earned, relaxing holiday in the sun, well away from the stress and strain of everyday life. So it didn’t matter a hoot how weary or crumpled they appeared on their arrival in the Caribbean. Unfortunately, she was expected to walk down the steps of the aircraft looking a million dollars—and all ready to grace the pages of high-fashion magazines.
So, while she appreciated Georgie’s kind remarks about her looks—which amounted to nothing more than a useful tool, as far as her working life was concerned—Flora knew that the other girl could have no idea of the problems which might lie ahead. Nor of the many difficulties she’d had to face in the past.
Up until just over a year ago, Flora had enjoyed a very successful career as a top fashion and photographic model. Earning huge sums of money, and accustomed to a highly luxurious way of life, she’d foolishly given little thought to such boring, mundane matters as health insurance, or the need to save money for a rainy day.
Which only went to show just how much of an idiot she’d been! Because, following that horrendous car accident, which had resulted in a long stay in hospital and an even longer convalescence, she’d not only found herself flat broke—but, with no work in sight, it had also looked as if her career was on the skids as well.
In fact, what she’d have done without her agent, she had no idea. Meredith Taylor, who’d been virtually a mother-figure to Flora ever since she’d run away from home seeking the bright lights of London at the tender age of sixteen, had done her best to calm her fears.
‘So, OK—you’ve been out of the action for some time. But it’s not the end of the world,’ the older woman had told her firmly. ‘Just be patient. Once the word gets around that you’re available for work again, I’m sure the jobs will flood in.’
However for Flora, now aged twenty-six and only too well aware of the many fresh, beautiful young girls who were desperately keen to take her place—both on the catwalk and in front of the cameras of world-famous photographers—it had been a nerve-wracking few months. With her phone remaining ominously silent, she had almost given up hope of ever working again when she’d received an urgent call from Meredith with the news that a very large American company were desperately looking for a fresh face to launch their new line of cosmetics.
‘Get yourself over there as fast as possible,’ Meredith had told her urgently, quickly rattling off an address in Mayfair. ‘ACE Cosmetics are up against a heavy deadline, so I reckon there’s a good chance of you getting the job. But they’ll insist on you being as pure as the driven snow,’ she’d warned, before explaining that the model who’d originally gained the three-year, multi-million-dollar contract had just been sacked following unfortunate reports in the Press regarding the girl’s private life.
‘Too many riotous, drug-related late-night parties in Bad Company,’ the older woman had added succinctly. ‘So, just make sure you come over as squeaky clean. And no mention of your brief marriage to that awful man. Right?’
‘Er...right,’ Flora had muttered, guiltily suppressing the fact that despite Meredith’s strong advice she’d never, somehow, quite got around to arranging a divorce from her husband, whom she hadn’t seen for almost six years.
Successfully gaining the job, and almost light-headed with relief at the thought of finally having solved her pressing financial problems, she hadn’t taken any particular notice of Meredith’s sage advice. But over the past few weeks she’d come to realise that her future prospects might not be quite so rosy after all.
‘You might have warned me about that simply awful woman!’ she’d moaned down the phone to her agent. ‘I thought I’d already met most of the fierce, hard-as-nails ladies in this business. But I bet anything you like that Claudia Davidson turns out to be an absolute nightmare!’
‘What on earth are you talking about? I’ve never had any problems with Claudia.’
‘Well...lucky old you—because she scared me rigid!’ Flora retorted grimly. ‘I’d hardly entered her glamorous, ultra-modern office to sign the contract when she announced that I was positively the last person she’d have chosen for the job. And, she seemed to take great pleasure in pointing out that I was only picked because Mr Schwartz, the American marketing director of ACE Cosmetics, refused to accept any of the other girls she’d got lined up and insisted on me being given the job.’
‘Well, if you’ve got the head honcho rooting for you I can’t see that you’ve got too many problems,’ Meredith had responded soothingly.
‘Yes, but...’
‘Even if you don’t particularly like Claudia,’ the other woman continued firmly, ‘she was amazingly successful at creating a totally new, up-market image for the Elegance Fashion Group. Which is why, I heard, she was headhunted last year by ACE Cosmetics to completely revamp and promote their products for a major assault on the European market. And, in any case,’ Meredith added, ‘I’m sure you’ll find that her bark is far worse than her bite.’
‘I should be so lucky!’ Flora had ground out glumly, before putting down the phone.
It wasn’t just the fact that she and the glamorous, high-powered PR executive in charge of promoting the cosmetic company’s
