The air inside the Sweet Temptation HQ was rich with the scent of maple syrup and pecan muffins. The fragrance was intoxicatingly sweet and made Trudy’s stomach growl. She had always thought there was something compelling about the smoky caramel tones of maple syrup. It was one of those flavours that made her mouth water and urged her to give in to hunger cravings. Blended with the other ingredients, the smell was a constant distraction and dangerously irresistible.
Trudy had just finished working on her column for the week. Inspired by Kali’s mini carrot cakes at the wedding reception, Trudy had charted a brief history of the carrot cake and included in the article a couple of eighteenth-century Georgian recipes for carrot pudding. She would have been happier if she could have included a copy of Kali’s recipe in the text but she knew that was too much to ask from the pâtissier. Also, she relished the challenge of trying to recreate her own mini carrot cakes as a homage to Kali’s speciality. Uploading one of the photos she’d taken at the wedding, Trudy thought the article looked good to go.
After a final read-through she attached the document and the photograph to an email and sent it to her editor. As a reward, she told herself, she could go down to the bakery below and sample one of the maple syrup and pecan muffins.
It wouldn’t even be a snack, she told herself. She could look on it as an exercise in quality control, ensuring that the products Sweet Temptation supplied were up to the high standard she wanted to maintain. Almost won over by the argument, Trudy slipped out of her chair and started moving slyly towards the door.
Charlotte burst into the room. She was grinning and brandishing a bottle of champagne in one hand and a trio of crystal flutes in the other.
Trudy checked her watch. It was only just eleven in the morning. Champagne at this time of the day seemed positively decadent. Or deviant. She eyed the bottle suspiciously. ‘What are we celebrating?’
Charlotte checked the door before responding. ‘I’ve called Daryl up here too,’ she said. ‘She needs to know this as well. But I wanted to tell you first.’ She stepped close and lowered her voice as though sharing a secret. ‘Harvey proposed.’
Trudy hugged her friend. The rush of happiness was so intense that it was almost a strain keeping back the tears. Charlotte and Harvey were a beautiful couple. Yes, there was an age difference. But age differences weren’t necessarily a bad thing for some couples. And they hadn’t known each other a year. But they made each other happy and Trudy didn’t think anything else mattered in a relationship.
‘Congratulations,’ Trudy whispered. ‘That’s wonderful. What did you say?’
‘What do you think I said?’
It was, Trudy knew, a ridiculous question. But it gave Charlotte an excuse to break their embrace and display the huge diamond she now wore on her ring finger: a princess-cut oblong set on a white gold mount. Trudy admired it and grinned and congratulated her friend again.
‘Did this come out of the blue?’ Trudy asked.
Charlotte popped the cork on the champagne and filled all three flutes.
‘Obviously the subject of marriage has been bandied around a lot recently.’ She had the courtesy to blush. ‘What with Harvey being Bill’s best man and with Bill…I mean…’ Her voice trailed off into an embarrassed, apologetic murmur.
‘It’s no big deal,’ Trudy said, squeezing her friend’s hand. ‘You know I’m excited for you.’
Charlotte regarded her suspiciously.
‘For both of you,’ Trudy promised. She raised her flute of champagne and tilted it against Charlotte’s drink. ‘To your happiness,’ she said. ‘May there be lots of it filling your days.’
‘To happiness,’ Charlotte echoed. ‘And there’s something I need to ask you.’ Her blushes deepened as she added, ‘Except it’s a little awkward.’
‘Awkward?’ Trudy raised an eyebrow. ‘Go on.’
Before Charlotte could speak, Daryl opened the door and stepped into the office. Her face looked like thunder. Her eyes were the pained red of promised tears. Her upper lip trembled as though she was struggling to contain her misery.
‘Daryl?’ Trudy began.
‘Hon?’ Charlotte asked.
Daryl shook her head and pressed her lips tight together.
‘What’s the matter?’ Trudy asked. ‘Who’s upset you?’
Daryl slumped into an office chair. Her shoulders trembled and her eyes blinked constantly.
‘Who is it?’ Trudy repeated.
‘What’s happened?’ Charlotte pressed.
‘It’s Donny,’ Daryl said eventually.
‘What the fuck has he done now?’ Charlotte demanded.
She was pulling her mobile from her pocket. Whatever the awkward question she had been about to ask when they were alone, it was now clearly off the agenda for the day. Charlotte was focused on resolving Daryl’s issue.
‘Harvey promised he would sort the bastard once and for all if Donny tried again to embarrass Sweet Temptation,’ Charlotte reminded them. ‘I’m taking him at his word on this.’
Daryl was shaking her head. She stopped Charlotte before she could dial a number. ‘Donny’s not done anything to embarrass Sweet Temptation,’ she admitted. ‘Only me.’
Charlotte put her phone down. ‘What the hell has he done, hon?’
Daryl took control of Trudy’s laptop and opened a screen. It took a while for the machine to respond to her commands – it was in desperate need of upgrading or replacing. The internal components groaned and whined in protest as they struggled to make an internet connection and then laboured to retrieve pictures. Eventually, the screen presented an image of a naked Daryl with a naked man and a naked woman. Daryl was on her knees in front of the man. The woman was behind Daryl and holding her hips as though she was riding her. From the length of Daryl’s hair, Trudy guessed the picture had been taken a couple of years earlier.
‘What the hell is this?’ Charlotte demanded.
‘We were drunk,’ Daryl explained. ‘We all knew each other and we were friends so we figured there’d be no harm.’ Her voice was wretched with the sound of distress.
‘I didn’t mean, what were you doing?’ Charlotte told her. ‘I can see what you’re doing. I was asking why the pictures are on the internet.’
‘It’s a naked ex-girlfriend site,’ Daryl explained.
Trudy was going to ask what a naked ex-girlfriend site was, then realised the question would make her sound stupid and ignorant. It was a website where men could post pictures of their naked ex-girlfriends. She didn’t know why such a site would exist but she could understand how Daryl’s pictures had ended there.
Daryl and Donny had been lovers.
Donny had become a bastard.
Trudy shivered in sympathy as Daryl pressed a key to reveal the next photograph.
Daryl was an attractive woman and the pictures, although lurid and pornographic, were flattering. They showed her slenderness. They presented her as attractive and desirable. They showed she was athletic and accommodating. Some of them showed that she was very accommodating.
But Daryl was clearly unhappy with what she was seeing.
She left the screen open on an image of her face buried between the thighs of another woman. Her cheeks were slick with perspiration and other fluids. Her eyes shone happily with an excess of pleasure.
‘This is terrible,’ Daryl sniffed.
Trudy made a note of the website’s address and passed it over to Charlotte.
‘How did you find out about these?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Donny sent me a text.’ She pulled out her phone and read the message aloud. ‘These pictures remind me of the great times we used to have together. LOL.’
Charlotte hugged her. ‘We’ll get this resolved,’ she promised. She held up the note with the website address and said, ‘I’ll get our legal team on to this right now.’
‘Do you think they’ll be able to do anything?’
Charlotte shrugged. ‘I’ll go and find out.’ She was out of the office before either Trudy or Daryl could question her further.
Trudy considered her blonde friend. ‘What’s the real problem?’
Daryl studied her quietly for a moment.
‘The real problem,’ Trudy persisted. ‘This is obviously upsetting. But I know you, Daryl. Embarrassment like this doesn’t even register on your radar. Ordinarily, if someone had posted naked pictures of you online, you’d be adding the URL to your business card. So what’s the real problem?’
Daryl pointed at one of the pictures. There was a watery smile on her lips and twin clouds of smudged mascara dirtied her eyes. ‘This one is my favourite,’ Daryl said. ‘I’m naked. But it’s not indecent.’
Trudy glanced at the picture and saw it showed Daryl standing in front of the camera. The hands belonging to the man taking her from behind covered her breasts. Her sex was covered by the back of someone’s head kneeling before her. Trudy understood what Daryl was saying but she thought her friend had a very liberal interpretation of the phrase ‘not indecent’.
‘What’s the real problem?’
‘Beatrice saw them.’
‘She didn’t approve?’ Trudy guessed.
Daryl rolled her eyes. ‘She called me a slut and she left.’