Stranded With The Boss. Elizabeth Lane

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      CHAPTER TWO

      DOMINIC TEMPLETON-BURKE was sitting in the oak-panelled library of the Explorers’ Reading Room when his cellphone gave a discreet cough. It was so discreet it was almost inaudible, in fact. Even so, three assorted explorers looked up and glared.

      ‘Sorry,’ Dom mouthed.

      He went out into the corridor. Tall windows looked down onto a rustic garden, incongruous in the centre of London. He settled himself into a window seat and put the phone to his ear. Below him, late roses were golden in the September sun.

      ‘Yes, Jay?’

      ‘My staff tell me you were perfectly bloody.’ Jay Christopher sounded mildly amused.

      Dom shifted uncomfortably. Jay was an old friend. ‘Not my scene,’ he said excusingly.

      Jay was unsurprised. ‘I warned you. Why don’t you just take the book deal? That would sort out all the funding problems at a shot.’

      ‘I keep telling you. I’m a doer, not a writer.’

      Jay sighed. ‘Okay. Well, Molly has got an idea.’

      ‘What sort of idea?’ said Dom suspiciously.

      ‘Oh, some celebrity bash she thinks you should go to. It will get plenty of coverage. Not inspired. But it’s a start. She’ll call you. Do what she says, Dom,’ he ended warningly. ‘She knows what’s she’s doing.’

      Molly had obviously been waiting for Jay to finish the softening up process. She rang as soon as he’d put the phone down.

      ‘Hi, Dom. Party tonight. The Flamingo Pool,’ she said briskly. ‘Wear something tasty.’

      Dom blinked. ‘Tasty?’

      ‘Something that will get you noticed. We need those photographs in the papers tomorrow.’

      Dominic could not resist it. ‘You mean like a parka and goggles and no knickers?’

      Molly choked on a laugh in spite of herself. ‘You can be a real pain in the ass,’ she informed him. ‘But you’re worth it for the cabaret. Go and rent yourself some designer togs and have a session on the sunbed. We’re talking serious crumpet for the thinking woman, here.’

      Dominic’s heart sank. ‘Whose party?’ he said gloomily.

      ‘Pepper Calhoun. For her new business. Basically the fashion crowd,’ said Molly hardily. ‘I know it’s not your scene, but tough. Where there are frocks there are photographers. Where there are photographers there are celebrities. And where there are celebrities there are columnists. Write yourself two appealing sentences, learn them off by heart, then say them to everyone you meet.’

      ‘Sounds like a fun evening.’

      ‘Who said anything about fun? I thought this was your work!’

      Dominic laughed and capitulated. ‘You’ve got me there,’ he said ruefully. ‘Okay. Tell me where to go and I’ll do the pretty.’

      Molly gave him the club address. ‘Don’t get there before eleven-thirty,’ she said briskly. ‘And polish up your biceps for the cameras. Gotta go. See you tonight.’

      Dom went back to the library and submerged himself in the saving sanity of ice drift.

      ‘Somewhere I lost about three hours today,’ Izzy said, unpacking boxes from the back of the taxi while Molly di Peretti rang the bell in the Flamingo Pool’s ominously dark entrance. ‘We were supposed to go out for pizza. But then it took longer to clear up than I expected.

      ‘Publicity parties always take longer than you expect,’ said Molly absently. The intercom asked a question and she leant towards it. ‘Hi, Franco, it’s me. We’ve brought the stuff for the Out of the Attic party.’

      ‘Then Pepper put in an extra meeting,’ said Izzy, struggling with a couple of banners that, even folded, were as big as she was. ‘And Jemima booked me into her hairdresser’s. Somehow lunch just got lost.’

      The door swung open by remote СКАЧАТЬ