Friend of the Family - Page 82

‘Straight to the hotel, ma’am?’ asked her driver from the front seat of the town car that had picked her up from JFK.

‘Thanks, Jimmy.’ She grinned. The old Irishman was her regular driver for the shows. You had to have a dedicated and experienced driver for Fashion Week if you wanted to get anywhere on time. And Jimmy was the best: he could find a way through traffic and seemed to know every cop in New York. If he double-parked, they wandered over to chew the fat.

The town car was moving through the deep shadows of Manhattan now: twenty, thirty floors towering above them, like a forest of vast concrete trees so tall you couldn’t see the sky, however much you craned. But at street level, the avenues were awash with backlit neon signs and flashing headlights; all bustle, energy and excitement. Despite her mood, Amy couldn’t help but smile. It was all so alien yet so familiar: the corner delis, the pizza joints, the yellow cabs, the distilled essence of a million Hollywood film sets and eighties cop shows. Just being here made you feel like you were a part of it all, dropped into your own little adventure in the city where anything was possible. At the same time, she suddenly felt old. Manhattan was a young person’s town, all hot eateries and underground clubs, and here she was crossing Seventh Avenue weighed down with work and marriage problems.

‘Your hotel, ma’am.’

‘Thank you, Jimmy,’ said Amy, climbing out of the car.

‘Always a pleasure, Mizz Shepherd,’ replied Jimmy. Always? That made her feel old too. This had to be the tenth – twelfth? – time they’d worked together. Maybe it was a young person’s town.

‘You ready for another week of this madness, Jimmy?’

‘I was born ready,’ he grinned. ‘And fashion ain’t nuthin’. You want crazy, you come on over for the dentists’ convention.’ He whistled through his teeth. ‘Those guys really let loose.’

Manhattan hotel rooms – even suites – were notoriously poky at the best of times, but Amy’s room was particularly crowded. A huge pile of invitations and VIP passes for the shows sat on the desk, with various parcels and gifts from the fashion houses on the floor next to it. And right by the window, a large bouquet of flowers that made her heart jump. From David? she wondered, snatching up the accompanying card. No, from the hotel manager, welcoming A

my and her ‘team’.

She had a quick shower and changed into a Valentino jumpsuit even though she was tempted to climb into her pyjamas. She was here to press the flesh, make a good impression with advertisers and the industry, and she had to look forward-facing at all times. During Fashion Week you never knew who you were going to bump into, and she knew she had to make an effort.

Juliet was staying around the corner at a new hotel called the Whitby, which described itself as ‘the hottest new destination in Midtown’. The unimaginatively named Sky Bar was on the twenty-ninth floor, with a view of the park, glorious in the day of course, but a strangely ominous blank space at night, like someone had forgotten to finish the city.

‘That was quick,’ she said as Amy arrived.

‘I can’t stay long.’

‘Make that call after you’ve tasted their amazing gingertinis.’

‘Great place,’ said Amy, looking around her.

‘Great people-watching. I’ve seen two world-class strops already and I’ve only been here ten minutes.’

They both laughed.

‘How was the flight?’

‘The usual,’ said Amy. ‘Matt Damon movie, two G and Ts and about half an hour of sleep. When did you get here?’

‘Sunday. I spent all day yesterday and today shooting the CEO of the hotel group in the penthouse suite. But at least I get to sleep in it.’

‘Lucky thing. Genesis keep downgrading the hotels I’m allowed to stay in. Once upon a time it was the St Regis. Now I have to beg for the YWCA.’

‘It’s not that bad,’ smiled Juliet.

‘No, it’s not,’ said Amy, enjoying their moment of banter.

The waiter brought over two drinks in elegant long-stemmed glasses.

‘I’ve hardly seen you since Provence,’ said Juliet. ‘How’ve you been?’

‘Okay. At least Claudia’s back on her feet. Literally. She came back yesterday.’

‘That’s good news.’

‘You know Josie has landed a job at Genesis?’ Amy asked.

‘Where?’ Juliet said with surprise.

Tags: Tasmina Perry Thriller
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