a banker’ rear back in horror when she realised that the star of the ten-year school reunion alumni had a plaster cast over her right wrist, but recovered enough to bend forward and air kiss her on both cheeks with a loud mmwwahh.
‘Amber. Darling. How lovely to see you again. We are so pleased that you could make our little get-together—especially when you lead such an exciting life these days. Do come inside. We want to know everything!’
Amber was practically propelled across the lovely marble floor, which was tricky to do in platform designer slingbacks. She had barely caught her breath when a hand at her back pushed her forwards into a huge room. The walls were covered with cream brocade, broken up by floor to ceiling mirrors, and huge gilded chandeliers hung from the ceiling.
It was a ballroom designed to cope with hundreds of people.
Only at that moment several clusters of extremely bored-looking women in their late twenties were standing with their hands clasped around buffet plates and wine glasses.
Every single one of them stopped talking and turned around.
And stared at her.
In total silence.
Amber had faced concert audiences of all shapes and sizes—but the frosty atmosphere in this cold elegant room was frigid enough to send a shiver down her spine.
‘Look everyone. Amber DuBois made it in the end. Isn’t that marvellous! Now carry on enjoying yourself. Fabulous!’
Two minutes later Amber was standing at the buffet and drinks table with a glass of fizzy water in her hand. She smiled down at her guide, who had started to chew the corner of her lower lip. ‘Is everything all right?’ Amber asked.
The other woman gulped and whimpered slightly. ‘Yes—yes, of course. Everything is just divine. I just need to check something—but feel free to mingle, darling...mingle.’
And then she practically jogged over to a girl who might have been one of the prefects, grabbed her arm and in no uncertain terms jabbed her head towards Amber and glared towards the other side of the room.
Amber peered over the elaborate hairstyles of a cluster of chattering women who were giving her sideways glances as though scared to come and talk to her.
This was so ridiculous. So what if she had made a name for herself as a concert pianist over the years? She was still the quiet, lanky, awkward girl they used to pick on.
And then she saw it. A stunning glossy black grand piano had been brought out in front of the tall picture windows. Just waiting for someone to play it.
So that was the reason her old high school had gone to such lengths to track her down with an email invitation to the ten-year school reunion.
Amber sighed out loud and her shoulders slumped down.
It seemed that some things never changed.
They had never shown the slightest interest in her when she was their schoolmate—far from it in fact. Amber DuBois might have had the connections but she was not one of the posh clique of girls or the seriously academic group. She was usually on the last table and the back of the bus with the rest of the eccentrics.
Well. If there was a time to channel her inner diva, then this was it. One final performance—and the only one they would be getting from her that evening.
Cameras flashed as Amber strode, head high, canapés wobbling, across the polished wooden floor towards the ladies room.
Behind her back, Amber heard someone tap twice on the microphone but the squeaky posh voice was cut off as she stepped inside the powder room, pushed the door firmly closed with her bottom and collapsed back against it for a moment, eyes closed.
Sanctuary! If the speeches had just started she might have the place to hide out for a few precious minutes—it could even be a chance to escape.
She was just about to peek outside to check for options when the sound of something falling onto the tiled floor echoed from the adjoining powder room, quickly followed by a colourful expletive.
Amber’s heels clattered on the tiles as she strolled over and peered around the corner to see where the noise was coming from.
A short brunette was standing on tiptoe, straddling two washbasins, with her arms outstretched, trying to reach the handle of the double-glazed window which was high on the wall above her. A red plastic mop bucket was lying on its side next to the washbasin.
‘What’s this? Kate Lovat running out on a party? I must be seeing things.’ A short chuckle escaped from Amber’s lips before she could stop it, and instantly the brunette whirled around to see who it was—and screamed and waved her arms about the instant she saw who had asked the question.
Which made her wobble so much that Amber rushed forwards, slid her buffet plate onto the marble counter, flipped up the bucket to create a step and then wrapped her left arm around the waist of a compact bundle of fun in a stunning cerise vintage cocktail dress.
Kate Lovat was one of the few real pals that she had made at high school.
Irrepressible, petite and fierce, Kate used to have a self-confidence which was as large as the heels she wore to push her height up to medium and a spirit to match. Today her short tousled dark hair was slicked into an asymmetric style which managed to make her look both elegant and quirky at the same time.
‘Kate!’ Amber laughed. ‘I was praying that you were going to turn up at the reunion. You look fabulous!’
‘Why thank you, pretty lady. Right back at you. You are even more gorgeous than ever.’ Then Kate’s mouth fell open, her eyes locked onto the floor and she gave a high pitched squeak as she grabbed Amber’s arm. ‘Oh my...those shoes. I want those shoes. In fact if you were not several sizes bigger than me, I would knock you down and run off with them.’
Then Kate took one step back and peered into Amber’s face, her eyes narrow and her brow creased. ‘Wait a minute. You look peaky. And a lot skinnier than the last time I saw you... Did I tell you that I have suddenly become clairvoyant? Because I foresee chocolate and plenty of it in your very near future.’
Then she pointed at the plaster cast on Amber’s wrist. ‘I have to know. Wait.’ She held up one hand and pressed the fingertips of the other hand to her forehead as though she was doing her own mind-reading act. ‘Let me guess. You slipped on an ice cube at some fashionista party, or was it a yacht cruising the Caribbean? It must make playing the piano a tad tricky.’
‘Kate. Slow down. If you must know, I tripped over my own suitcase a couple of weeks ago. And yes, I have cancelled everything for the next six months so my wrist has a chance to heal.’ Then she paused. ‘And why do you need to sneak out of the window at our school reunion when you could be catching up on the gossip with the rest of our class?’
Kate took a breath, her lower lip quivered and she seemed about to say something, then changed her mind, broke into a smile and waved one hand towards the door. ‘Been there. Done that. This has been one hell of a rotten day and the kidnappers have blockaded the doors to stop us from getting out.’
Then Kate lifted her chin. ‘But here is an idea,’ she said, her dark green eyes twinkling with delight. She gestured with her head towards the red velvet chaise at the other
