Prada And Prejudice. Katie Oliver

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СКАЧАТЬ easy under the best of circumstances.” Cherie sighed. “I’ve just had a row with Hannah. She and Duncan have broken it off.”

      “Yes, that’s why I’m calling, actually.”

      “I see.” She laid her knife aside. “What’s happened?”

      “Nothing serious, just something I thought you ought to know.” He hesitated. “Sunday night, while you and Alastair were celebrating your anniversary, Hannah had Duncan over.”

      Cherie sighed. “I don’t like the sound of this already.”

      “Nothing happened. You know Duncan’s keen on his music career, so when things began to go a bit too far, he told Hannah they should wait. She was upset, and asked him to leave.”

      “I see.” And suddenly, she did see. Hannah had offered herself, probably for the first time ever, and been – however tactfully – rejected. She sighed. “I’m very glad Duncan didn’t take advantage. Most boys would have done.”

      “Yes, it’s usually the other way round, isn’t it?”

      “You’re lucky, you know. Girls are much harder than boys to deal with at this age. I’m sure Duncan’s never given you or Sarah a moment’s trouble.”

      “Oh, he has his moments. But he’s always been focused on his music, from the time he was small. It’s kept him out of trouble for the most part.”

      “Hannah can’t seem to stay out of trouble, lately.”

      “She’s a teenager. You’ll get through it.”

      The front door opened and Alastair called out, “I’m home! Where is everyone?”

      Cherie cradled the phone against her ear and picked up her knife once again. “Thanks for calling, Neil. And thanks for the advice. I’m sure you’re right.” She rang off just as her husband entered the kitchen.

      “Here you are.” He kissed her. “What advice was that?”

      “Oh, nothing,” she said lightly. “Perhaps we should let Hannah work at the store this summer. What do you think?”

      “I don’t see why not. Is she in trouble?”

      “She’s been late to class, twice. Ever since she broke up with Duncan, she’s been impossible.”

      “I didn’t realise they’d broken up.” Alastair lifted his brow. “Shame, he’s a nice young man. If you like, I’ll speak to Sir Richard tomorrow and arrange something.”

      “Yes, please do. Dinner’s almost ready. Go wash up, and tell Hannah to come down.”

      As he disappeared upstairs, Cherie rinsed her hands and wondered why she hadn’t told Alastair about Hannah’s failed attempt to lose her virginity, or Neil’s phone call.

      Surely there was no need to trouble her husband with a litany of Hannah’s misdeeds. He had enough on his plate with the company’s finances in turmoil; he didn’t need to fret over his daughter’s budding sexuality as well.

      And there was no reason for her to feel guilty for having a chat with Duncan’s father, she told herself firmly.

      No reason at all.

      “Why didn’t you return my messages?” Natalie’s mother reproved her at dinner that evening.

      “I couldn’t, I was at lunch with Rhys Gordon. He wanted to discuss the store and the problems we’re facing.”

      Celia Dashwood’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not having sex with that man, are you?”

      Natalie nearly choked on her water. “Mum, honestly! No, I’m not. We don’t even like each other.”

      “It looks as though you like each other well enough, judging from those photos in the tabloids.”

      Natalie nudged at a bit of chicken with her fork. “It’s only publicity. And those pictures…they were taken out of context. They were innocent.”

      “Innocent?” her mother echoed, and raised her brow. “Is that what you call it? You were pressed against that man in full view of the world, twined round him like a garden hose!”

      Natalie dropped her fork to her plate with a clatter. “Mum, please! I can’t bear any more. It’s mortifying.”

      “Oh, very well. Tell me about Rhys Gordon,” her mother said, her face alight with curiosity as she took a sip of wine. “Is he as difficult as they say?”

      Natalie felt a renewed wave of humiliation as she remembered his comments to the man on the phone. “He’s worse.” She could still hear Rhys’s words, could see him leaning back in his high-backed chair, could hear his throaty chuckle as he discussed her with his friend.

       Probably quite a hellcat in bed, not that you’ll ever find out, mate…

      “He’s ruthless and crude and sneaky,” she went on. “I despise him.”

      “My word, you make him sound dreadful, like Machiavelli,” Lady Dashwood said mildly.

      “Picture Machiavelli on a motorbike, and you’re there.”

      “I’m sorry I missed the board meeting, I wanted to meet him.” She glanced out the window. “At least those reporters are gone.” She stood up. “I’ll go and fetch our pudding.”

      Natalie stood. “I’ll get it.” She’d do anything to escape her mother’s questions about Rhys.

      As she entered the pantry and grabbed a serving spoon from the drawer, her mobile rang. She frowned. She didn’t recognise the number. She hoped it wasn’t a reporter… “Hullo?”

      “Natalie? It’s Rhys.”

      She froze, spoon in hand. “What do you want?”

      He paused. “I called to see if everything’s all right. You never came back. Gemma said you were upset.”

      “I’m fine,” she said, her words chilly. “You needn’t worry.”

      “Why did you leave so suddenly?”

      “Something came up. Sorry, I have to go.” She pressed ‘end call’ and set it to vibrate.

      Almost immediately it began to buzz like an angry bee. Rhys again! Stubborn, pushy, awful man… Furious, Natalie tossed the mobile on one of the pantry shelves.

       …there’s no affair, just media speculation. Not that I’m complaining, mind. It’s great publicity for Dashwood and James…

      “Natalie,” her mother called out, “are you bringing the trifle?”

      “Yes, sorry.” She picked up the bowl and hurried back into the dining room.

      As they settled down to dessert, Natalie fumed. Rhys must’ve СКАЧАТЬ