“I can help,” she offered, butting in and sending her sheepish green eyes wide.

I let out a dry laugh. “I don’t mean to be rude, Kerry, but I think you’ve done enough.”

Her momentary composure crumpled.

“Oh, please don’t cry. If anyone should be in tears, it should be me.” Images of Flynn’s disappointment and pain at the thought of me deceiving him and his family like that lingered in front of me and refused to move. I couldn’t bear the thought of him thinking I had fooled him; lied to him.

I let out another hollow laugh. “But, hey-ho, you got to prove your aunt wrong, so that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

Kerry made a gulping noise.

The image of Flynn materialised in front of my eyes again. He had made no attempt to call me last night either and I couldn’t say I blamed him. He probably thought I’d got what I wanted now.

“I need to get back to work,” I ground out. “I suggest you do the same.”

“I’m so sorry, Leonie. I’m going to make it up to you,” choked Kerry after my retreating back. “You see if I don’t.”

I was almost back at my desk with the raindrops chasing each other down the office’s windows to fit my despondent grey mood when my mobile startled me with its sudden ring.

I sank down in my swivel chair. I didn’t recognise the number.

“Leonie? Leonie Baxter?” came a troubled woman’s voice. It was vaguely familiar.

“Yes. Speaking.”

There was palpable relief in her sigh. “It’s Lulu Stark here. We met the other week.”

I sat up straighter. “Yes. Hi. How are you?”

“Not great,” she managed, her voice dropping lower.

“What’s wrong?”

Her tone was hushed and insistent. “I’ve recorded a conversation on my phone with my agent Seth Gordon.” She breathed into my ear, steeling herself. “I think you’ll want to hear it. Can we meet?”

“Of course,” I muttered into my mobile. “But can you do me a favour?”

“Yes. Just name it.”

“Can you bring along a few samples from your Stardust range? I’ve had an idea.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Look, she’s too preoccupied with all her corny, right-on comedy to take any notice of what’s going on under her nose. I’m her agent, remember? She listens to me.”

There was a pause in the phone conversation.

“No, don’t do that. It could shoot us in the foot. Go for the packaging that we agreed. It looks the bloody same anyway.”

There was a series of mutters and mumbled exchanges.

“We need to be careful. You know how Lulu is with all that hippy crap.”

There was another voice, which was difficult to decipher.

“Right, thanks for that Rick. Much appreciated. I owe you one.”