‘Oh. My. God. Kirk Kelner wants to take us to a party? Are you joking?’
Lucy laughed. Amy’s face was etched with delight, shock and fear.
‘Not joking, Aims. Just me, you and Kirk Kelner. You don’t think James will mind?’
‘Stuff James, Luce, it’s Kirk Kelner. If he wants our company, who are we to refuse? Of course, he really wants to be with you. Will I be in the way?’
‘Oh please. He insisted you come. Anyway, he might be Kirk Kelner but he’s still a stranger – I won’t go unless you come.’
‘Luce, I was just fishing – of course I’m coming.’
‘Good.’
‘But I am going to bugger off if it looks like you two are hitting it off. I want a Hollywood wedding, Luce, the full works. Max and I will be bridesmaids.’
‘Yes, yes. I’m sure he’ll have his pick of girls once we’re in the club. He’ll probably slip off with some gorgeous clubber barely out of her teens. Let’s just have some fun.’
‘Exactly. And don’t worry about the world knowing. I promise not to call everyone I’ve ever known tomorrow to tell them – although I bloody want to. Just James and my mum, OK? I know the last thing you want is more attention.’
‘Thanks, Aims. Now let’s party.’
Amy was delighted to hear Lucy talk like this. Lucy always put others first, often before her own happiness. She never really let go or threw caution to the wind. Perhaps that had become a natural instinct, growing up as big sister to Max. Carrying her home after a night out, fielding calls from smitten exes wondering why she was ignoring them. Lucy was so used to being the sensible one, it came naturally to her.
If only she could see how bloody attractive she was, and started enjoying it. Maybe that’s what was happening tonight. Lucy was enjoying herself. She was more vibrant than Amy had ever seen her.
She had been wounded so deeply by what had happened with Hartley – not just knowing that people thought she had set out to lie and trap him, but mostly because Hartley had believed the very worst of her. Amy was relieved to see Lucy picking herself up and having fun.
Kirk had asked them to join him at his table for a glass of champagne before they left for the club. Daphne, whose jade-green Chanel pencil skirt suit showed off her slender frame, was charm personified. She asked Lucy and Amy about themselves and said she was delighted to be leaving her son in the company of such intelligent and beautiful ladies. After twenty minutes or so Daphne glanced at her watch. With a flurry of air kisses she announced she really had to go and bade them goodnight.
Draining his flute, Kirk warned them that some paparazzi would probably be lying in wait outside the restaurant. He offered to call another car for them to leave five minutes after his exit.
‘Otherwise,’ he said, ‘you might appear in some rag as “Kirk’s mystery girls”. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.’
Lucy agreed. She was sure Kirk had no idea of the press that had followed her since meeting Hartley. Little did he know what a great story it would be for them – Lucy Lands Another Millionaire – painting her as… hell, who cared? At least this way, if they left in different cars, the press wouldn’t get the chance. Lucy giggled as she read Amy’s face. She could tell Amy quite fancied the idea of being splashed all over the papers with the world’s sexiest man.
She’d love to see James’s face as he picked up the paper with snaps of his fiancée on Kirk’s arm. It would bring a whole new meaning to keeping him on his toes.
Kirk had been thoroughly charming to Amy, asking where she lived, commenting on her lovely jewellery. But his expression changed when he looked at Lucy. He couldn’t stop taking her in – not so much in a sleazy way as with mounting curiosity. She was so different to the girls he’d been spending time with in London.
What a beautiful pairing they would make, Amy thought as she watched them. Both were almost impossibly gorgeous – tall, flawless skin, fair silky hair, bright white smiles.
Shortly after he left the restaurant, with instructions to meet him inside the Met Bar on Park Lane, where their names would be on the door, Lucy and Amy followed in a black Bentley.
‘Not bad for a standby car,’ Amy laughed as they sped off.
Full of anticipation for the glitzy night that lay ahead, the girls watched the bright lights of Covent Garden whizz by in a blur.