Hen Party 1 (Hen Party #1) (8 page)

“Are you sure he’s not coming back?” Denise folded her arms on the table and leant forward. “Maddy put the party on hold while we waited to see if our tart dramas had shocked him enough into leaving.”

Kyra sat back against the wooden seat to brace her spine. “He flew into Perth earlier this evening. He must have driven from the airport straight to the Ainslie. He told him me he was leaving to check into his city accommodation.”
And wait for me to join him.
She rearranged the folds of her dress over her thighs and dug her fingers into the chiffon until her skin pinched into points of pain. He would be waiting for the end of the world to arrive before Kyra went to bed with him now.

“There you go, champ. Enjoy.” Susie placed the rum cocktail on the table in front of Kyra. Then Susie sat down beside Denise.

“Maddy will be pleased that her game plan worked,” Denise said. “She was relying on you to keep the mole’s attention away from Elin, and at the same time trying to help you get over your man problems.”

A strange, garbled sound left Kyra’s throat at the revelation that Maddy had deliberately set out to couple her with Joe. She’d succeeded with incredible results.

Denise slid the glass closer to Kyra. “You did a fab job getting rid of him. Drink up, sister. Get the color back in your cheeks.”

Kyra took a large swig of alcohol to wash down the bitter lemon taste in her mouth. “Did Maddy dish out the tart tips and undo the top of my dress to use me as a piece of meat to snag Joe’s interest?” Kyra’s voice was a quivery shambles.

A guilty look passed across Susie’s face. “We all used you, but hey, Elin was our excuse. Maddy said you’d understand someone attractive had to bait the fetching mole and lure him away, or the party was over.”

Kyra’s hand shook as she reached for her glass again. “I don’t understand how she could deliberately humiliate me to play a game with a spy,” she said, her anger rising. “Why didn’t Maddy use her natural charm to chase Joe out of the hotel?” The evening was a living nightmare, a horror showcase of her dysfunctional relationships with the Henriettas and men.

“Yeah…she has a way of fixing serious man problems by grabbing her hockey stick and going after the dude’s balls. It usually scares them away for good,” Denise said. “But nah, she didn’t bring her hockey stick to the party, didn’t think she’d need to use it with a bunch of girlfriends.”

Susie laid a hand on Kyra’s arm. “Take it from me. You were a convincing hot mess. Joe swooped on you and forgot about Elin and Sergeant Paul. Thanks to you, we defeated the spy. He took off to the car park with his tail between his legs.”

Kyra’s temper exploded. Joe had used her as a cover for his spying activities, and Maddy had treated her as a decoy to distract him. The pair of despicable human beings had played off sides so they could both get what they wanted from her. Could the night get any worse? Her head was cuckoo and her heart in tatters from the abuse of the two cunning schemers.

“This is what I think of Maddy’s game plan.” Kyra leant across the table and swung her handbag into Denise’s side. “You’re a bunch of blood-sucking, fleabag disgraces.” She took another swing and then another.

The hockey player held up her arms in self-defense. “Eek… handbag attack,” she cried. “Someone help me, save me!”

Susie laughed brightly.

Kyra bobbed to her feet. “I’m out of here, bitches.”

“Sit down and shut up for a minute.” Denise yanked on Kyra’s arm to pull her back down to the seat. “Before you go off to hide and lick your wounds, accept our thanks for returning Elin’s party to her.”

When Kyra gave Denise’s tight fingers a slap, she loosed her grip. “Get out of my face,” she snapped.

Denise stood up. “Elin doesn’t know what you did for her, but the Henriettas saw the whole soap opera thing play out. None of us could have blindsided the mole like you did. You’re an awesome chick!”

Susie rose from her chair. “I reckon Kyra is a Luv Goddess, which is the top spot on the Henrietta Honor Board.”

“We should stop calling her Princess.”

“Yeah, I’ll go with that,” Susie applauded.

“Okay, from this night onwards,” Denise said in a posh voice, “Kyra shall be known as… Her Vadgesty.”

“Ma-ha, ha, ha, ma-ha ha…” Susie lost control of her cackles.

Kyra gave the two hockey clowns a death stare to send them on their way, and she didn’t blink until both of them high-tailed it to the bar. Then she emptied her tall glass and gazed at the French doors, waiting for the alcohol to numb her ravaged head and soothe her injured heart before she went to find Elin.

“For you, babe,” a guy said out of the blue. A hairy, masculine hand with midnight blue painted fingernails slid another cocktail glass across the table toward her. “Your friend, Maddy, ordered you a drink to cheer you up,” the uber-cool waiter said.

“Wonderful,” Kyra jeered.

“Sure thing,” he said, his gaze fixed on her chest.

Her thoughts drifted to the sad, empty woman she’d been when she’d ordered her first drink at the bar tonight. Her twenties had raced by, leaving her a cynical thirty year old whose romantic hopes and dreams had been battered. When she did meet the guy who set her heart on fire, he was a rotten, spying Mr. Wrong.

There was a lesson to be learnt from blindly giving into Joe’s seduction, but stuff it. Tomorrow she’d give herself a flogging for being an air-head.

“Cheers.” She raised the glass to end the conversation with the young barman.

When he left, she poked the straw through the delicious chocolate sprinkled cream to reach the underlying rum mixed with coconut juice. A door clicked open in the background. She half-turned on the seat to see Elin walk through the front bar door and head straight over. Kyra clasped her hands together, vice-like to wait for her bestie’s arrival.

“Hi Elin, sit down and talk to me.” Kyra dredged up a pleasant voice from goodness knows where as her friend sat down beside her. “Has Maddy finished organizing the alternate entertainment for the night?”

“No, she hasn’t.” Elin buried her fingertips in the wispy blond tendrils at the side of her face and shook them to add more bounce to the curls. “Maddy says she’s sorry you’re upset about Sergeant Paul, but you’ll have to suck it up. She refuses to waste money and spoil the fun because you don’t like him. She’s already paid him for a double-booking. We have the hunky-dory policeman at the party for another hour.”

So it was true that Elin was oblivious to the Joe-mole drama and was still stuck on the stripper gig. Kyra’s gaze swept over Elin’s pinched face. It showed tragedy—the loss of the radiant, bridal bloom—and it was Kyra’s fault for wiping out her friend’s joy just half an hour ago.

Kyra threaded her hair behind her ears. She took a paper napkin from the holder and curled up one end with her fingers. Joe the spy wasn’t around to watch the next gig. She plonked her purse on top of the serviette to stop herself fiddling with it. Enough of Joe’s deception, and the unhappiness Maddy created. There was no reason to deny Elin the entertainment she wanted to have on her girls’ night out.

“Do you really want to watch the he-man strip off his police uniform?” she asked, watching her friend’s face for any signs of hesitation.

“Yes, I do,” Elin said, her arms hugging her waist. “I want to remember being surrounded by my girlfriends and having a crackerjack party before I give it all up to make Marco happy.”

Kyra could argue that Elin shouldn’t sacrifice her happiness to please Marco but why bother carrying on like a judgmental wet blanket? “When you’re a senior citizen, you’ll have some fun times to remember, huh?”

“Yes, when my Vadge needs tightening cream, I’ll remember the night I didn’t need it.” Elin giggled.

Kyra looped her arm through Elin’s. “Bestie, I can’t think of a comeback to that.”

“Bestie, stop being so uptight. Don’t you want to be the happy boss of your lady parts?” Elin asked.

Kyra met Elin’s baby blue eyes that were lit with mischief now. “Yes, I do, but I can’t hit the cherry spot humor like you can.”

“First, you have to try to let it out.” Elin ran her tongue across her lips. “With lots of practice at being funny, your Vadge will become a happy home for a guy’s Peen to call his own.

Kyra burst out laughing. “Ditch the marital advice. I won’t need it, ever.” She covered her flushed cheeks with her hands.

Elin leant in close, shoulder to shoulder. “Think down low now. What are you waiting for?” she asked in a whisper. “Earlier on, I saw the yummy-looking guy trailing after you like a puppy dog. Oh yes, I did, miss.” She bobbed her head up and down to emphasis her point. “Maddy said to me, ‘He’s my top shelf pick for Kyra but she won’t believe me until she works it out for herself’.”

Kyra managed a black-humored chuckle at Maddy’s dating theory about Joe.

“So what do you think about Maddy’s prediction that you’ve found the guy who’s smitten with you?” Elin said.

“Not much at all,” Kyra said, forthright. “He’s a whole lot of trouble, and I give him a zero score out of ten as a potential boyfriend.”

“Where is he anyway?” She glanced around the room.

“Forget about him. He’s gone. He’s history.”

Elin shook her head. “Why did you lose him without getting to know him first?” Elin looked Kyra straight in the eyes. “You know, keeping out of trouble during our high school years wasn’t our rap, bestie. Do you remember the war cry of the sisterhood? Good girls get a pat on the head if they’re lucky enough to be noticed. Bad-asses who kick away the noose get the attention, the money and the man.”

Kyra propped her elbows on the table. “The war cry was for high school, and it doesn’t work for me anymore. I’m sticking to my relationship values to find a guy I can like before I love. Ding, dong, I’m done with my mushy lady brain and poor choices.”

“Oh Kyra, you sound sad and sixty years old.” Elin’s gaze dropped to the teardrop diamond ring on her engagement finger. “Do you remember in senior high when half the boys were running away scared of you? The other half were fighting over who was going to date you.”

“All the attention from the young Romeos didn’t help me. I’m still a douche magnet,” Kyra said.

“No, you’re not.” Elin used a finger to push a drink coaster around in circles. “For years I’ve watched you rush off to work and stagger home exhausted at the end of the day. At knock-off time, leave the stress behind at the office. Stop your job from draining your energy.”

“I can’t stop worrying about work. It’s my livelihood… my bleak career sliding into a hole.” Underneath the table, Kyra tapped her foot up and down. “The Tisci business is heading toward the red line, and no one will listen to my warnings.”

“Marco will sort out those knobs in the office when he gets a chance. He’ll tell them to shut up when you speak up about issues at the management meetings.”

“Just like he’s going to sort out the refrigeration problems with the Sydney delivery trucks and properly account for the spoiled stock,” Kyra quipped.

“But you know he’s requested the maintenance schedules for the trucks from the Sydney office,” Elin reproached.

Yes, he had, and Kyra had to be patient until the paperwork arrived in the Perth office.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Why are we talking about work anyway?”

Kyra shrugged. “I apologize, too, for being a bore.”

“I really wanted you to come to my party and forget about what you can’t change at Tisci Smallgoods. Loosen up and get ready to enjoy my gorgeous wedding next weekend.”

Kyra lowered her head. “I guess I’ve forgotten how to pick myself up from the ground, have a quick dust off and get running after my dreams again.”

“Well, you can get your joggers tomorrow, girl. I’m counting on you to pull me through the hubbub when the Tisci family roll into town, and find out I’m not a ‘good little wife’ type of woman.”

“I’ll be there,” Kyra said.

Elin’s eyes turned dewy. “I’ve always known you’re my one true friend…Thanks, chick.”

“You’re such a dag, but thanks for caring about me, too.” Kyra rubbed her temples in circles with her fingers. “The Tisci family won’t be putting the good girl nooses around our necks anytime soon.”

Elin laughed. “That’s the way to hitch Mr. Right.”

Kyra poked the ice cubes with her drinking straw. “How about I watch Sergeant Paul get down and dirty with you?”

“Yippee!” Elin squealed. “Wait here while I go and drag Paul and Maddy apart. I won’t be long, sweet pea.”

“Okay, great.” Kyra fixed a smile on her face to please Elin. Then she concentrated on drinking more rum to stop tormenting herself over the guy who’d battered her heart and used her for his own gain.

Her phone beeped with a message. She took it from her purse to read the text.

I’ve got the keycard for the Litton. Thinking of you, x J.

Same,
she sent back as the understatement of the year. She was thinking so hard about him now, she ran a search for
Marco Tisci and Joe
on her phone’s Internet app. Soon after, her pulse jumped as the screen filled with entries. She scrolled down to the bottom of the page and her eyes froze on a business article written two years ago titled, “Jovanni and Marco Tisci—Growing Their Father’s Smallgoods Empire Across Australia.”