The Perfect Christmas. Kate Forster

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      ‘Then I can’t go to London alone, I will need a chaperone,’ said Maggie with a smile and Zoe shook her head.

      ‘Okay, little Miss Christmas, let’s go to London.’

      ***

      Over the years of Zoe Greene pushing Maggie Hall to the heights of Hollywood, Maggie had learned that almost everyone was ambitious, that most people in LA would sell their grandmothers for a good deal and that true friendship was rarer than an actress over forty without Botox.

      Maggie was brave, Zoe was smart and somehow they were the perfect balance. Zoe could hear Maggie in the next room, talking to her assistant on the phone. Maggie made a point of not using Zoe as a PA, but as a business manager.

      No doubt Maggie would have them on a plane in a heartbeat and Zoe would be whisked away to the land of pints and pubs, and Maggie would spend the entire trip practicing her cockney accent.

      Zoe had so much work to do this Christmas. There were new clients with careers that needed careful guidance, existing clients who needed her advice in all areas of their life, and there was her busy office to keep running. A trip to London wasn’t something she had time for but Maggie was hard to say no to and, sometimes, friendship came before work.

      If she was honest with herself, she had to admit she had avoided Maggie as much as Maggie had avoided the world for the past few months.

      Being the manager of both Will and Maggie had the potential to create a conflict of interest and, with a separation on the cards, she had tried to stay out of the whole matter.

      But Maggie needed her and she couldn’t bear the thought of her spending Christmas alone in their huge house.

      For years Zoe had indulged Maggie and her whims. Not because she was her biggest client, a well-loved movie star who commanded millions of dollars per picture, but because she’d saved her from the worst experience in her life and, for that, she would always be grateful.

      ‘We’re all sorted,’ Maggie exclaimed in her worst Eliza Doolittle accent, ‘We’re going to Ol’ Blighty.’

      ‘I’m not going anywhere if you talk like that, you sound deranged,’ Zoe said, putting her feet on the coffee table.

      ‘Spoilsport,’ said Maggie cheerfully. ‘We leave tomorrow, first class. I’ve booked us a suite at The Dorchester.’

      ‘Jesus, you don’t give a woman much notice,’ said Zoe, thinking of everything she would have to pack for the cold weather, and the work she would have to load onto her laptop to make sure she was ready to return to the office up to date and ahead of the rest.

      ‘If you don’t remember it, you can buy it there,’ said Maggie with a sweep of her arms, ‘It’s London, the best city in the world to shop at Christmas time.’

      ***

      The trip to London was the best thing she had ever thought of, she decided as she and Zoe boarded the plane. Will and Elliot had left by the time she returned from Zoe’s house, her presents for them both were still in the shopping bags by the Christmas tree.

      The hurt was somewhat eased by the first-class lounge, she told Zoe as she sipped her glass of Dom Pérignon.

      ‘I’m going to enjoy this little vacation,’ she said, raising her glass. ‘I’ve worked hard and I’m going to do it in style. This whole week is on me, Zo, and don’t even think of arguing. I’m not the second highest-paid actress in the world right now for nothing.’

      ‘I’m not even going to argue with you,’ said Zoe, laughing as she clinked glasses with Maggie.

      ‘You know,’ Maggie whispered leaning forward, ‘I like being rich.’

      Zoe snorted champagne and started to laugh and cough simultaneously.

      ‘I’m serious. I’ve been poor, actually, what’s below poor? Well, I’ve been that and now I’m not, and it’s a much better place to be.’

      Zoe nodded with mutual understanding. ‘As Grammy used to say, “Being poor ain’t never did nobody any favours”.’

      Zoe’s phone rang and she picked it up and looked at the screen.

      ‘I thought you were on holiday,’ complained Maggie.

      ‘I am, as soon as the plane takes off,’ said Zoe as she answered the call and immediately launched into negotiations about a film deal.

      Maggie sat back and sipped her champagne, taking in the luxurious lounge. She recognized a few faces but they ignored her, as she did them. Celebrity and wealth gave you a little privacy, at least in a place like the first-class lounge; nearly everyone wanted to be left alone and to enjoy the experience.

      Zoe finished her call and pulled her laptop from her tote bag.

      ‘Are you serious?’ asked Maggie, eyeing the laptop as though it was the enemy.

      ‘One email, I promise,’ said Zoe as she opened the lid and then started rapid-fire typing.

      ‘Excuse me, Ms Hall, Ms Greene, your flight is now boarding,’ said an attendant who was as well groomed as any supermodel Maggie had ever seen.

      ‘Let’s hustle, Miss Worky Workalot,’ Maggie said as she drained the champagne and picked up her handbag.

      Zoe snapped the lid shut and sighed. ‘I’ll finish it on the plane,’ she said as she followed Maggie and the stewardess to the boarding area and then onto the plane.

      Flying was something Maggie adored. She loved the order and the little meal trays and the opportunity to watch films or TV shows she would never otherwise indulge in. But flying first class was something else again.

      ‘Your suite is here,’ said the stewardess. ‘And yours is across the aisle,’ she gestured to Zoe.

      Maggie clapped her hands and passed her coat to the stewardess. ‘Do you mind hanging this up for me?’

      The stewardess nodded politely.

      Maggie leaned into her and whispered conspiratorially, ‘You know, I always get so excited when I fly first, I never, ever take it for granted. When I was a kid, I really wanted your job; it’s so glamorous.’

      The stewardess beamed, ‘I’m more than happy to swap jobs now,’ she giggled as she went to hang up Maggie’s coat.

      ‘God, everyone loves you,’ Zoe said as she sank into her chair.

      ‘Except Will,’ said Maggie, a cloud coming over her.

      Zoe looked up from the computer. ‘None of that, you told me you were going to enjoy yourself.’

      Maggie nodded as she accepted a glass of champagne from a silver tray that a steward was offering. ‘Yes, you’re right, excuse my moment of attending my pity party for one, I’m back now,’ she said firmly.

      ‘Good,’ said Zoe, taking a glass for herself and raising it to Maggie.

      ‘To London.’

СКАЧАТЬ