Nadia Knows Best (21 page)

“Do I know you?”

At the sound of an unfamiliar voice, Nadia turned and came face to face with Redheaded Girl.

Oh shit.

“Sorry? No, I don't think so.” She'd just said sorry. How British.

“Do you know me?”

“No.” I just really want to trip you up.

“Oh. That's odd.” The girl's tone was challenging rather than friendly. “It's just that you keep looking over at me. All the time. If you don't even know me, I was wondering why you'd do that.”

“I don't keep looking over at you.” This was actually true. She was looking over at Jay. The problem was, every time he turned his head in her direction, she was forced to hastily glance away and pretend to be gazing transfixed at something or someone else instead. It wasn't her fault if the someone generally turned out to be this girl with her flame-red hair and ridiculously licky lips.

God, how could Jay like her? Surely he could see through someone like that?

“Well, if I've been looking at you, it wasn't deliberate. I didn't realize I was doing it.” Nadia was tempted to add, “Would you like me to wear a blindfold for the rest of the day?” but held herself back. How embarrassing if the girl said yes.

Where was Laurie anyway? Now that she could actually do with having him around, he'd disappeared to talk to his old workmates.

“OK.” Redheaded Girl waited and tilted her head to one side. “I hear you work for Jay.”

“That's right. Who told you that?”

“Jay.”

“So you do know who I am.” Nadia didn't normally dislike people practically on sight, but for Redheaded Girl she'd make an exception.

“You're a gardener. Jay employs you to sort out the gardens of the houses he's renovating.” Another pause. “Do you have a thing for your boss?”

Oh, for crying out loud, where
was
Laurie?

“No.” Perspiring, Nadia shook her head.

“It's just that I thought it might explain why you keep looking over. Because you want Jay and you're jealous that I have him and you don't.”

Nadia was outraged. How dare this horrible girl be right?

“That's not true.” With a huge effort she kept her voice calm. Going squeaky with indignation would only make her sound riddled with guilt.

“Well, I'm very glad to hear it.” The girl's smile didn't reach her cold, slanting eyes. “Because I've spent a long time waiting for a man like Jay to come along. He's just what I'm after, and I plan to hang on to him.”

Unable to resist it, Nadia smiled. “Really? Does he know about this?”

“I'm thirty-three,” the girl replied evenly. “It's no laughing matter. Once you reach thirty-three, there aren't that many decent men around. It's all right for you,” she added, “you've already got one of your own.”

***

Nadia bumped into Jay in the corridor on her way back from the loo.

“Why didn't you tell me you were coming to Nick and Sophie's wedding?” Three glasses of Moët had loosened her tongue. “If you saw Laurie with the bachelor party at the Alpha Bar, you must have known we'd be here.”

Jay looked mildly surprised. “I guessed he'd been invited. I didn't know you'd be coming too. Does it matter?”

They'd hardly seen each other this week. Jay's visits to the house had been brief and the only time he'd stayed longer than five minutes had been when she'd been at the garden center.

“Of course it doesn't matter.” Nadia wondered if he really liked Redheaded Girl. “It just would've been polite to mention it. How did you get invited anyway?”

As if she hadn't already worked it out for herself.

“I bumped into the girls at the Alpha Bar. Andrea used to share a flat with Sophie. She didn't have a partner for the wedding, so she asked me if I'd like to come with her.”

“She's thirty-three,” said Nadia, hoping for a glimmer of shock.

Jay looked amused. “I know. She told me.”

Bugger.

“She's been waiting ages for someone like you to come along.” Nadia wondered if they'd already slept together.

“Thanks. The garden's looking good, by the way.”

Bastard. Nadia tried to imagine picking a bit of invisible fluff off his jacket. Maybe running her tongue over her lips in a provocative manner. Except, knowing her, she'd only end up with lipstick on her teeth.

Irritated, she said off-puttingly, “Andrea likes you. A lot.”

“Really?” Now he was being downright annoying.

“I'd have thought it was pretty obvious.”

“Well, good.” Jay's brown eyes shone with amusement. “I didn't go along to the Alpha Bar to meet women who'd hate me. What would be the point of that?”

Outside, a gong sounded.

“Saved by the gong,” said Jay.

Nadia bristled. “Saved from what?”

“I'm sorry, I thought this was an interrogation.”

She gave up. The trouble with sparring with Jay was that you never actually won. He had an infuriating habit of always having an answer for everything.

The gong rang out again.

“People are going in to eat. I'd better get back to Laurie.”

“And I'll go and find Andrea,” Jay said easily.

Andrea and her shrieking, thirty-three-year-old ovaries, Nadia thought with derision. She wouldn't mind betting that Andrea was desperate for babies.

God, if they were sharing a table with Andrea and Jay, it would be pepper shakers at twenty paces.

“See you later,” said Jay.

Great.

***

They weren't sharing a table. Thankfully, the next couple of hours whizzed by. Meeting up with Laurie's old stockbroking pals and their other halves was great fun. Their table, one of the rowdiest in the room, indulged in some good-natured heckling during the best man's speech. The food was excellent. Bottles were emptied with a flourish and speedily replaced. Nadia had a stitch in her side from laughing at Nick's boss's impression of Nick making his own speech, complete with trembling chin and askew tie.

Actually, when you were laughing this hard, a stitch was the least of your worries. Keen not to disgrace herself—because leaving a wet patch on your plush velvet chair seat was never sophisticated—Nadia stood up and said, “Back in a minute.”

“Again?” Tania, who was married to Nick's boss, took a great slurp of wine. “Blimey, not pregnant are you?”

No chance of that, thought Nadia as, snorting with laughter, Tania gave Laurie a nudge and almost toppled sideways into his lap.

“Let's hope not,” Laurie said with a wry grin that only Nadia understood.

She was in much-needed mid-wee when the door to the ladies' loo opened and closed. Expensive sounding high heels clattered across the red and black marble-tiled floor. Two lots of heels. One set tap-tapped into the cubicle two down from her own, while the other set headed for the sink. Nadia heard the sound of a makeup bag being unzipped, followed by the rattle of cosmetics.

“So who's Hannah seeing now?” This question came from the girl in the cubicle.

“She went out with Toby the other night. He took her to dinner at that new place on Chandos Road.”

Dinggg
, Nadia's ears pricked up. Was that Andrea's voice?

“The Mexican? I heard it's crap. No sign of her getting back with Piers then?”

Piers? Piers who?

“Ha, she wishes! Piers is up to his old tricks again.” The voice that possibly belonged to Andrea was scornful and slightly distorted; she sounded as though she was stretching her mouth in order to put on a fresh coat of lipstick.

“When did he ever stop? Hannah was mad to ever get involved with him in the first place.” The girl in the cubicle peed noisily, pulled the flush and click-clacked over to the sink to wash her hands.

“He's been seeing this girl, some arty type apparently. Total pushover, according to Piers.”
Was
it Andrea? Pssh, pssh, went a perfume atomiser. “But when I saw him at Boom on Sunday he was all over Felicity Temple-Stewart.”

Nadia's brain was racing. Sunday, Sunday… Clare hadn't seen Piers on Sunday. He'd told her he was visiting his sister in Oxford and Clare had spent the day at work on her latest painting. Slowly, silently, Nadia tugged up her knickers then lowered herself to the floor of the cubicle. Good job it was a spotlessly clean floor.

“Anyway, how are things going with you two?” This from the girl washing her hands. “Very nicely, by the look of things.”

Nadia held her breath. Now she really had to know. Crouching on her hands and knees, she ducked her head down and to one side.

“Very nicely indeed.” The voice that possibly belonged to Andrea was smug. “I'm telling you, I really think my lottery ticket's come up. It just goes to show, there's a whole load of losers out there, but if you keep on going, you can always find a good one in the—
aaarrgh!
”

Hell. Nadia banged her forehead on the cubicle door as she tried to jerk away. Peering through the four-inch gap between the bottom of the door and the marble floor, she had found herself gazing at Andrea's bony, pale-stockinged legs.

Andrea, having glanced in the mirror and spotted a pair of dark eyes peering out from under the closed cubicle door behind her, let out another high-pitched shriek and spun round, sending her make-up bag flying into the sink.

“What the fuck's going on? I don't believe this! Get up,” Andrea shouted, “get up and get out here! What the bloody hell d'you think you're playing at?”

Nadia briefly considered doing what Ewan McGregor had done in
Trainspotting
, diving head first into the loo.

Well, maybe not. Awkwardly, she stumbled to her feet.

“You!” jeered Andrea, when Nadia reluctantly emerged from the cubicle.

Her friend said, “Andy? Who is this?”

“She works for Jay. She's a… gardener.” Andrea made it sound like maggot-eater. “She won't admit it, but she's jealous of me because I'm with Jay and she isn't. And now she's in here, crawling around on a toilet floor, eavesdropping on us.” Her mouth twisted into a triumphant smile. “Classy. I can't wait to tell Jay about this.”

Sophie seemed so nice, Nadia couldn't imagine what she'd been thinking of, sharing a flat with someone as poisonous as Andrea.

Then again, maybe that was why Sophie had been so keen to get married.

The deeply annoying thing was, if Andrea had been a nice person, she would have been able to tell her the real reason for the eavesdropping. She could have found out all about Piers. But she'd rather cut out her tongue than ask Andrea now.

Raising her chin, Nadia headed for the cloakroom door. “Tell Jay what you like. Doesn't bother me. Except I wouldn't get your hopes up too high if I were you. He's pretty crap in bed.”

Pleased with herself, Nadia swung the door open and prepared to make a dignified exit.

Andrea's friend began, “Oh, your skirt's tucked into your knick—”

“You idiot,” Andrea snapped furiously as Nadia—phew, relief—remedied the situation. “Why'd you have to go and tell her that?”

***

Well, what could she do now, other than launch into the rest of the reception with a vengeance and show Andrea, by actions rather than words, that she did indeed have a man of her own?

By this time the DJ was already playing Duran Duran's greatest hits. Determinedly not looking—even for a millisecond—in the direction of Jay and Andrea's table, Nadia danced with Laurie, then with Laurie's ex-boss, then with Nick's sweatily eager best man, then with Laurie again.

The DJ, slowing down to give the older contingent a breather, began to play something hideous by Celine Dion. When Laurie turned automatically toward their table, Nadia hauled him back.

Understandably he looked shocked. “You don't want to dance to this.”

“I do.” Nadia swung herself against him, and Laurie grinned.

“Blimey, you must be drunk.”

Nadia wound her arms round his neck. Laurie was a good dancer, loose-limbed and in possession of that ability so sadly lacking in men to actually move in time with the music. What was it called? Oh yes, natural rhythm.

And he was looking great in his suit, now that it had been unearthed from the bottom of a backpack and paid a much-needed visit to the dry-cleaners. In fact Laurie was looking great, period. He was by far the most beautiful man in the room. He had the best hair, Nadia decided, running her fingers through it as they danced together. The best eyelashes. And the very,
very
best cheekbones…

Hmm, maybe she was the tiniest bit tipsy.

Leaning her head on Laurie's shoulder, Nadia risked a speedy glance in Jay's direction. OK, bit juvenile, but she so wanted to know if he was watching her. In an envious fashion, preferably.

Except he wasn't. He was bloody writing something on a napkin while Andrea sat beside him with her body language on show. She was smirking away like a
Countdown
winner.

If Nadia's legs had been twenty-five feet long, she could have kicked her. She really hoped Jay wasn't giving Andrea his mobile number.

Celine Dion gave way to Michael Bolton. It was that kind of wedding DJ. I'm so lucky, Nadia thought, to be dancing with Laurie. So, so lucky. Ooh, Jay's standing up, hooray!

Damn, so was Andrea. Boo hiss.

“You know,” Laurie's tone was conversational, “a lesser man than me might think his luck was in.”

Mortified, Nadia realized that she'd been indulging in some shameless hip-grinding.

“It's not you, it's Michael Bolton. He has that effect on me.”

“I know what you mean.” Laurie nodded sympathetically. “I'm just the same with Eminem.”

Nadia ordered her hips to behave themselves. After Michael Bolton they danced along, rather more decorously, to something by Westlife. When they eventually returned to their table, Laurie disappeared to the bar in search of more drinks.