Shopaholic & Baby
Page 115
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“How could I have done that?” I say innocently, glancing at my reflection in a nearby mirror. My eyebrows do look pretty spectacular, though I say it myself. It’s this Indian woman in Crouch End who does them. You go to her house and she threads and plucks and it takes forever. But it’s worth it.
“Jasmine!” the girl calls louder.
“I’ve got to go.” Jasmine shoots me a last, evil look.
“Bye then!” I say cheerily. “I’ll bring the baby in to see you.”
Jess has been following the whole conversation, looking utterly bemused. “What’s the big deal about eyebrows?” she says as Jasmine stalks off.
I survey Jess’s eyebrows. They’re brown and tufty and it’s obvious that no pair of tweezers, brush, or eyebrow pencil has ever been near them.
“I’ll show you one day,” I say as my phone starts to ring. I take it out and flip it open. “Hello?”
“Hi,” says Luke’s voice in my ear. “It’s me. I gather the launch is a huge success. It’s just been on the news. Well done, darling!”
“Thanks! It is pretty amazing….” I take a few steps away from Jess and turn in behind a rack of chiffon beaded shrugs. “So…what’s the latest?” I add in a lower voice.
“We’ve had the meeting. I’ve just come out of it.”
“Oh my God.” I clutch the phone tighter. “And how did it go?”
“Couldn’t have been worse.”
“That good, huh?” I try to joke, but my heart sinks. I was so hoping Luke might be able to salvage the situation.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever stood up to Iain before. He doesn’t like it. Jesus, they’re a bunch of unpleasant thugs.” I can hear the anger in Luke’s voice. “They think they own the world.”
“They practically do own the world,” I point out.
“They don’t own me.” Luke sounds resolute. “Or my company.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m talking to the whole staff this afternoon.” He pauses and I picture him at his desk in his shirtsleeves, tugging at his tie to loosen it. “But it looks like we’re going to pull out of the deal. There’s no way we can work with these people.”
So that’s it. The whole Arcodas-deal-conquering-the-world dream is ended. All Luke’s hopes and plans dashed. I feel a growing, overwhelming fury at Iain Wheeler. How dare he treat people so badly and just get away with it? He needs someone to expose him.
“Luke, I have to go,” I say with sudden resolve. “I’ll see you later. We’ll talk about it tonight.”
I switch off, quickly search through my phone numbers, and speed-dial. After four rings there’s a reply.
“Dave Sharpness.”
“Oh, hi, Mr. Sharpness,” I say. “It’s Becky Brandon here.”
“Mrs. Brandon!” His hoarse voice lifts. “What a delight to hear from you again! I hope you’re keeping well?”
“Er…fine, thanks.” Two girls walk past, and I edge away to an empty spot behind a display of wigs.
“Is there another matter we might be able to help you with?” Dave Sharpness is saying. “Our surveillance operatives have undergone full retraining, you’ll be pleased to hear. And I can offer you a twenty percent discount on all investigations—”
“No!” I cut him off. “Thanks. What I need is that dossier you did for me. I shredded it. But now…I need it. Do you have a copy you could get to me?”
Dave Sharpness gives his throaty chuckle.
“Mrs. Brandon, if I could count the number of ladies I’ve known who destroy some vital piece of evidence in a fit of pique. Then, when the divorce court looms, they’re on the phone wondering if we keep copies….”
“I’m not getting divorced!” I say, trying to keep my patience. “I need it…for a different reason. Do you have a copy?”
“Well, now. Ordinarily, Mrs. Brandon, I would have a copy to you within the hour. However…” He pauses.
“What’s wrong?” I say anxiously.
“Unfortunately, there’s been a slight mishap with the client secure storage facility.” Dave Sharpness exhales. “Our office manager, Wendy, and a pot of coffee. I won’t go into details, but some of our archives are…well, to put it bluntly, a bit of a mess. We’ve had to throw a lot of it out.”
“But I need it! I need everything you’ve got on Iain Wheeler. You know, that guy you thought was my husband? Any photos, or evidence of those hushed-up cases…”
“Jasmine!” the girl calls louder.
“I’ve got to go.” Jasmine shoots me a last, evil look.
“Bye then!” I say cheerily. “I’ll bring the baby in to see you.”
Jess has been following the whole conversation, looking utterly bemused. “What’s the big deal about eyebrows?” she says as Jasmine stalks off.
I survey Jess’s eyebrows. They’re brown and tufty and it’s obvious that no pair of tweezers, brush, or eyebrow pencil has ever been near them.
“I’ll show you one day,” I say as my phone starts to ring. I take it out and flip it open. “Hello?”
“Hi,” says Luke’s voice in my ear. “It’s me. I gather the launch is a huge success. It’s just been on the news. Well done, darling!”
“Thanks! It is pretty amazing….” I take a few steps away from Jess and turn in behind a rack of chiffon beaded shrugs. “So…what’s the latest?” I add in a lower voice.
“We’ve had the meeting. I’ve just come out of it.”
“Oh my God.” I clutch the phone tighter. “And how did it go?”
“Couldn’t have been worse.”
“That good, huh?” I try to joke, but my heart sinks. I was so hoping Luke might be able to salvage the situation.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever stood up to Iain before. He doesn’t like it. Jesus, they’re a bunch of unpleasant thugs.” I can hear the anger in Luke’s voice. “They think they own the world.”
“They practically do own the world,” I point out.
“They don’t own me.” Luke sounds resolute. “Or my company.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m talking to the whole staff this afternoon.” He pauses and I picture him at his desk in his shirtsleeves, tugging at his tie to loosen it. “But it looks like we’re going to pull out of the deal. There’s no way we can work with these people.”
So that’s it. The whole Arcodas-deal-conquering-the-world dream is ended. All Luke’s hopes and plans dashed. I feel a growing, overwhelming fury at Iain Wheeler. How dare he treat people so badly and just get away with it? He needs someone to expose him.
“Luke, I have to go,” I say with sudden resolve. “I’ll see you later. We’ll talk about it tonight.”
I switch off, quickly search through my phone numbers, and speed-dial. After four rings there’s a reply.
“Dave Sharpness.”
“Oh, hi, Mr. Sharpness,” I say. “It’s Becky Brandon here.”
“Mrs. Brandon!” His hoarse voice lifts. “What a delight to hear from you again! I hope you’re keeping well?”
“Er…fine, thanks.” Two girls walk past, and I edge away to an empty spot behind a display of wigs.
“Is there another matter we might be able to help you with?” Dave Sharpness is saying. “Our surveillance operatives have undergone full retraining, you’ll be pleased to hear. And I can offer you a twenty percent discount on all investigations—”
“No!” I cut him off. “Thanks. What I need is that dossier you did for me. I shredded it. But now…I need it. Do you have a copy you could get to me?”
Dave Sharpness gives his throaty chuckle.
“Mrs. Brandon, if I could count the number of ladies I’ve known who destroy some vital piece of evidence in a fit of pique. Then, when the divorce court looms, they’re on the phone wondering if we keep copies….”
“I’m not getting divorced!” I say, trying to keep my patience. “I need it…for a different reason. Do you have a copy?”
“Well, now. Ordinarily, Mrs. Brandon, I would have a copy to you within the hour. However…” He pauses.
“What’s wrong?” I say anxiously.
“Unfortunately, there’s been a slight mishap with the client secure storage facility.” Dave Sharpness exhales. “Our office manager, Wendy, and a pot of coffee. I won’t go into details, but some of our archives are…well, to put it bluntly, a bit of a mess. We’ve had to throw a lot of it out.”
“But I need it! I need everything you’ve got on Iain Wheeler. You know, that guy you thought was my husband? Any photos, or evidence of those hushed-up cases…”
