you and keep you at it.’
Some stranger who wouldn’t know all her little foibles?
‘I’ll backslide without constant help,’ Dodie said. ‘Right now, for instance, I’m taking a pot of chocolate spread out of the fridge.’ She’d finally found it lurking in the depths of the salad bin, where she’d tucked it away out of temptation. Sadly, all that remained was a slick of chocolate clinging to the sides of the jar. But Gina didn’t know that. ‘I’m going to spread it half an inch deep on this really thick slice of toast,’ she said, fingers crossed as she stretched the truth until it twanged. She did have the toast, however, and, holding it close to the phone, she took a crunchy bite. ‘It’s white bread,’ she warned, mumbling through a mouthful of crumbs.
Gina just laughed. ‘Nice try, Dodie, but it’ll take more than that to stop me from catching my flight. Look, why don’t you forget the diet, relax and just enjoy yourself at the wedding? Wear something low-cut and the starlets won’t get a look in with the photographers, believe me. Besides, Charles Gray is probably bored to death with girls who are little more than skin and bone.’
‘Are you supposed to say things like that? It’s your business to get women down to skin and bone.’
‘It’s my business to get them fit. There’s a big difference. Besides, it’ll probably be a whole new experience for him to dance with a woman-sized woman. An armful of cuddle. A bit of a treat, in fact.’
‘Get real.’
Gina sighed. ‘Martin Jackson didn’t cheat on you because you were a few pounds overweight, Dodie. He did it because he’s a Class A piece of—’
Dodie took another crunchy bite of toast to drown out the word Gina used. She knew what Martin was. It didn’t make what he’d done—or the fact that he’d done it with a girl the size of a stick insect—any easier to bear.
‘I’m more than a few pounds overweight now.’
Gina kindly refrained from pointing out that she’d done that to herself. Instead she went straight to the point, the way she always did.
‘What do you really want, Dodie?’ she asked.
‘I want to be thin, I want to be beautiful, I want heads to turn wherever I go.’ Like her sister. If she was going to dream, she might as well dream big.
After a momentary pause—probably to pick herself up off the floor—Gina said, ‘Oka-a-a-y. Let’s start with the weight—get that right and everything else will fall into place.’
‘I now know why you’re my best friend.’
‘I love you, too. But this is going to be tough love. The first thing you have to do is put the chocolate spread in the bin—with all the other comfort food you’re addicted to.’
‘If it was that easy,’ Dodie said, ‘you’d be out of business.’
‘All right, all right. Don’t fret. Cinderella will go to the ball. I’ll find you someone who’ll keep you at it. Angie. She’s your girl. She’ll not only monitor your progress but clean the junk food out of your cupboards and be a friend on the end of the phone when you’re tempted by a triple cheeseburger with French fries.’
‘At the end of the phone won’t work. She’ll have to be here to forcibly remove them from my fingers.’
‘Angie has a husband and kids of her own to babysit. She can’t babysit you.’
Dodie caught her breath. What on earth was the matter with her? ‘No, no, of course not. I’m sorry. I’m being unreasonable.’
‘No, you’re in a state. In your shoes I’d be in a state, too. But Angie will do everything else I’d do, and if you just listen to her—’
‘You’re a star, Gina.’
‘She can only do so much. The sweat, pain and tears are down to you. And there’ll be plenty of those. If you want to turn heads it’s going to take more than cutting out the comfort food. You’re going to have to exercise.’
‘Cheers.’
‘My pleasure. Present yourself at the health club at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. Angie will take a “before” picture of you to stick on your fridge door as a deterrent against backsliding. To get the “after”, you have to do everything she says. No argument.’
‘That’s all very well, but how am I going to pay for this new life?’
‘Oh, I see. The only reason you want me to supervise your regime is because I’d do for love, is that it?’
‘I’m an artist—’
‘But not a starving one, apparently. You’re far more likely to keep on the straight and narrow if it’s costing you. But,’ she went on quickly, cutting off a squeal of pain from Dodie’s wallet, ‘if you stick to the regime and don’t break the zipper on the two-sizes-smaller dress on the big day, I’ll give you a special deal.’
‘Gina, you’re the best—’
‘A three-month free membership of the health club, use of all the facilities and the services of a personal trainer.’
‘But that’s—’
‘In return, you can design and make a textile hanging for the health club. Something that reflects the spirit of the place. There’s a large empty wall in Reception simply crying out for a Dodie Layton.’
‘Ouch.’
‘I know. Lake Spa is getting the best of the deal. But this is business, and I have to repay the boss-man’s faith in me. Of course, if you don’t shape up, I’ll forget the textile and charge you the going rate. Believe me, you can’t afford it.’
Actually, Dodie realised—given ten seconds to consider the matter—having one of her works on permanent display in a place used by people with high disposable incomes was a win-win situation for her. It gave her a double reason to shape up.
She’d undoubtedly need both of them. She grinned. Gina wasn’t just a whip-slender body. She had motivation down to a fine art.
‘You’ve got a deal. I’ll bring the digital camera with me tomorrow and take some pictures. I can work on some ideas while you’re away.’
‘Excellent.’ Before Dodie could respond, she added, ‘Oh, and make sure that invitation is on my doormat when I return. If Charles Gray isn’t bowled over by your smile, I’m planning on being second in line.’
‘Problem?’
Brad Morgan had been staring out of the window of his penthouse office for the last twenty minutes.
‘What makes you think I’ve got a problem?’ he said, without turning around, as his secretary placed a cup of coffee on his desk.
‘Your body’s here, but it seems to me that just lately your mind’s been somewhere else. Want to talk about it?’
‘No, thanks.’
