The Sweetest Revenge. Emma Darcy

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СКАЧАТЬ offered, striking precisely the bargain Sue had been angling for. ‘I take it she does look sexy,’ he added, wanting confirmation.

      Caution dictated Sue’s reply. ‘Her figure is definitely curvy in all the right proportions. But I wouldn’t want anyone to get any wrong ideas about why she’s there. This is simply a fairy princess appearance to sing ‘‘Happy Birthday.’’ Correct?’

      ‘Spot-on. Oh! Forgot to ask. Can she sing? I mean … really sing.’

      ‘She has toured the country as a professional entertainer. Good enough?’

      ‘Fabulous!’

      This is going to cost you big, Mister, Sue decided, as she proceeded to get party details and settle on the fee, which she enterprisingly quadrupled for both herself and Barbie since it was an after-hours’ engagement … plus danger money. Not that she thought there was any real danger in it but she felt such a consideration was easily justified.

      Barbie was stunned at the outrageous fee Sue was demanding for this gig. No problem about making a profit next week, she thought gratefully. Ever since they’d started Party Poppers, they’d been battling to make ends meet, but at least it brought in more regular work than their Country and Western act, and they were settled back in Sydney. Travelling around the country-club circuit had been fun but not exactly financially rewarding.

      However, listening to Sue talking on the phone, it was clear the engagement she was arranging was not about entertaining children at all. It sounded somewhat dodgy. Admittedly running a car and paying the rent on this two-bedroom apartment in Ryde, not to mention buying food and paying other bills, meant they couldn’t look a gift-horse in the mouth, but …

      The telephone receiver clattered down. ‘Got it!’ Sue cried triumphantly, dollar signs sparkling in her wickedly gleeful green eyes. She could do a great pixie or Tinkerbell with her short, ragamuffin red hair and her slim, rather petite figure, and she was definitely projecting a high degree of mischief right now.

      ‘Got what exactly?’ Barbie demanded warily.

      ‘He didn’t even hesitate over the money. Shows he’s really loaded and doesn’t mind spending. I just love men like that,’ Sue bubbled on.

      ‘Sure he’s not a dirty old man?’

      Sue grinned. ‘Could be a dirty young man. Definitely young, thirtyish, and a bachelor. Co-owner of Multi-Media Promotions.’ She cocked her head on one side. ‘Maybe I could ask him to set up a website for us. Get clients from the Internet.’

      ‘We haven’t even got a computer,’ Barbie dryly reminded her. Sue’s mind invariably soared with wild dreams and pulling her feet back onto the ground was often a difficult task.

      She shrugged. ‘Just thinking ahead. This is really good for us, Barbie. All that lovely money and opportunity plus.’

      ‘When you get your head out of the clouds with silver lining, would you mind spelling out what this is all about?’

      She did, virtually dancing around their small living room in excitement as she laid out the party details and the invitation to stay on and mix with the crème of Sydney bachelors. Which Barbie had to concede, did sound interesting, given their current dearth of social life.

      ‘What’s this guy’s name? The one who booked my fairy princess act,’ she asked, wondering if there was some way of checking out his bona fides before the night.

      ‘Leon Webster.’

      It struck a nerve and the twang was highly unpleasant. ‘Leon …’ Hadn’t Nick Armstrong had a friend of that name, a guy full of slick patter whom he’d linked up with in his university years? Compelled to know for sure, she asked, ‘And his partner’s name? The birthday boy?’

      ‘Nick Armstrong.’ Sue broke into mad song. ‘Happy birthday, dear Nick. Happy birthday, dear Nick ….’

      ‘Stop it!’ Barbie yelled, rising from her chair with clenched fists, so violent was the rush of emotion that name had stirred.

      Sue stopped dead, gawking at her as though she were mad. ‘What’s the matter?’

      As quickly as shock had drained the blood from her face, the memory of the worst hurt and humiliation of her life poured heat back into it. ‘Don’t you remember?’

      ‘Remember what?’ Obvious bewilderment.

      Above flaming cheeks Barbie’s silver-grey eyes turned to icy daggers as she remembered the man who’d broken her heart into irrecoverable little pieces. ‘Nine years ago I sang at Nick Armstrong’s twenty-first birthday party.’

      Sue still looked non-plussed. ‘You did?’

      ‘Yes, I did. And I poured it all out to you at the time … how he …’ She bit off the wretched recollection and faced Sue with blazing resolve. ‘I will never … ever … sing for him again!’

      ‘But … uh-oh!’ The memory finally caught up with her. She grimaced. ‘The guy you had the big crush on when we were schoolkids.’

      ‘I was sixteen!’ Barbie’s voice shook with the violence of feeling the memory stirred.

      She’d loved Nick Armstrong with all she was, and he’d totally belittled that love by preferring what a sexy tart with a flash car could give him. Which undoubtedly proved he wasn’t the person she’d believed he was, but even telling herself he had to be a shallow rat to be seduced by such superficial assets, did not stop her from feeling utterly crushed.

      ‘A lot of water under the bridge since then, Barbie,’ Sue pleaded.

      True, yet she’d carried that deep misery with her all the way. No other man had even scratched the surface of what she’d once felt for Nick Armstrong. He’d blighted her faith in love and had probably blighted her belief in dreams, too.

      ‘It’s only a ten-minute act,’ Sue argued. ‘It will put us well in the black financially.’ Her hands lifted in appeal. ‘He probably won’t even recognise you. You had braces on your teeth then. Your hair was short and much fairer, almost white …’

      Yes, white and crinkly like a baby lamb’s coat. Baa-Baa Lamb was what Nick’s friends had called her in those days, teasing her for following them around. She’d hated it.

      ‘You wore glasses instead of contacts,’ Sue rattled on. ‘And well … you were a skinny rake when we were teenagers. You’re much more mature in your looks now.’

      ‘That’s not the point,’ she flared. ‘I won’t sing for him. You can if you want, Sue.’

      ‘Oh, yeah … like I’m blond and beautiful and sexy. Come on, Barbie, the fairy princess act is yours, not mine. Besides which, I promised Leon Webster no wig.’

      ‘Cancel then. Let him find someone else.’

      ‘And lose all that lovely money? Not to mention the chance to rub elbows—and possibly more—with guys on the rise?’ She shook her head and advanced on Barbie, the glint of determined battle in her eyes. ‘Best for you to sit down, calm down, and think reasonably about this. If the thought of Nick СКАЧАТЬ