LITMIR.BIZ

       CHAPTER FIVE

      BY THE Friday of the party, Romy felt far more in control of her emotions.

      OK, she reasoned as she drove through the massive gates of St Fiacre’s Hill, so she might witness Dominic ‘getting off’ with Triss Alexander. She might even stumble upon them kissing or—far worse—catch Dominic creeping stealthily out of her bedroom.

      But so what?

      It might hurt like hell—and Romy was determined to face the fact that it probably would—but at least she would be forced to confront it. And she would get over it

      People did.

      People had their hearts broken all the time and lived to face another day. People, moreover, who had shared far more than a passionate and illicit encounter in a broken-down lift!

      As well as having a set of his housekeys sent over by courier, Dominic had faxed the guest list to her, and she had found it difficult to understand. Or rather she had been unable to work out just who was partnering whom.

      Apart from the Baileys—both senior and junior—no one else seemed to be married. Or, if they were, then the women were all very liberated, since none of them had adopted their husband’s surnames.

      The party consisted of Dominic, the Baileys senior, the Baileys junior, Lola Hennessy, Geraint Howell-Williams, Cormack Casey and Triss Alexander. Cormack Casey—the scriptwriter—was the only person she had heard of, apart from Triss, and the last person on the list was Romy herself.

      So Dominic was including her in the guest list, was he? People often did. They seemed to find it socially more acceptable if the party planner was masquerading as a guest, rather than looking like the paid help! And Romy could more than hold her own in any company.

      Perhaps she had been expecting Dominic to have her slaving away in the background, wearing an apron and a frilly hat and tripping around with a little tray, serving drinks!

      Romy zoomed down the winding drive towards Dominic’s house, and when she finally drew up outside the warm, red-brick building she sat there quietly for a moment or two, just breathing in the delicious scents of his summer garden.

      Had he lived here long? she wondered.

      It was an awfully big house for a single man to own. Even a man who entertained lavishly—which Dominic clearly did not, judging by his conversation in the restaurant. Had he bought it as a prospective family home—and was that where Triss Alexander came in?

      Romy watched her knuckles whitening as she clutched the steering wheel like a lifeline, and realised that it was actually painful to think of Dominic with another woman. And it was that pain which made her mind up for her.

      Because perhaps she needed to see Dominic with another woman, if only to make her forget him once and for all.

      Romy jumped out of the car and then had to remind herself to move slowly, the way they did in naturally hot countries.

      The heatwave had shown no signs of abating, and it was a swelteringly hot day. She was wearing a white linen shift dress which came to halfway down her thighs, but even so she was still hot.

      She tugged a straw hat down over her head and had just started inspecting the flowerbeds with a view to filling the house with flowers when she heard someone throatily call, “Hello!”

      Romy looked up, her smile instinctively becoming fixed and forced.

      A young woman whose height was almost as exceptional as her bone-structure was walking towards her. She was dressed for tennis in a simple white skirt and T-shirt—worn with the casual air of one who was used to designer gowns but who nevertheless could wear a dress made of sackcloth and still look like a million dollars!

      Her short red-brown hair held the subtle brightness of autumn leaves, and she gave a wide smile as she sashayed elegantly across the lawn towards Romy, who suddenly felt like a rag-bag in spite of the white linen dress.

      The woman held her hand out. ‘Hi! You must be Romy Salisbury, who creates such wonderful parties that people talk about them for months afterwards!’ she said. ‘I’m Triss Alexander.’

      ‘Yes, I know. Hello,’ said Romy woodenly. She had met more supermodels than most people, so why did she suddenly feel completely out of her depth? ‘I recognised you straight away, of course, but Dominic also mentioned that you were joining his house party.’

      ‘Did he?’ Triss asked absently as she bent down to sniff at the centre of a huge yellow rose whose petals were tinged with pink. ‘Mmm! What a wonderful scent—I love it!’ She straightened up again and gave Romy a quizzical smile. ‘So have you got everything organised?’

      Was that a command? Romy wondered defensively.

      What if—despite her clearing it with Dominic—what if Triss started getting all possessive, playing the heavy-handed-hostess role with a vengeance?

      ‘I think so,’ she answered, trying to summon up some of her normal enthusiasm. ‘I’ve spoken to Gilly, the caterer, on the phone, and I’m just about to go inside and see if there are any problems with the menus.’

      ‘Shouldn’t think so—I popped in at lunchtime and my nostrils were assailed by the most dee-licious smell!’ Triss smiled. ‘They were baking scones and chocolate cake like it was going out of fashion! I must say I haven’t had a proper English tea for ages.’

      ‘Really?’ said Romy, aware that her smile was iced with frost. Just who was this beautiful nymph who made so free with Dominic’s house? she found herself wondering.

      ‘The Baileys are arriving for dinner tonight, aren’t they?’ questioned Triss chattily. ‘Thank goodness I only have to travel from next door—I probably won’t be able to move after all that yummy food!’ She drew a slim hand across her forehead. ‘Especially in this heat! Much more of this sun and I think I’ll expire!’

      She looked at Romy expectantly, but Romy felt curiously deflated, and in no mood for chatting.

      Triss gave her a mildly perplexed look. ‘Yes, well...it’s been lovely meeting you, Romy. I’d better go now—I have a hungry baby at home to feed.’

      Romy very nearly passed out with shock. A baby? Surely she and Dominic hadn’t had a child together? ‘A b-b-baby?’ she stammered, aware that her teeth were actually beginning to chatter.

      Triss frowned. ‘Yes. Simon. He’s a poppet. Are you all right, Romy? You’ve gone awfully pale. Why don’t we go inside and I’ll fetch you something?’

      ’N-no!‘ said Romy, much too forcefully, but she was still reeling from the idea of Dominic being a father.

      Triss looked startled. ‘Well, if you’re sure there isn’t anything you need me to do...’

      ‘I can’t think of anything just now,’ said Romy quickly. Inside she felt sick with the need to know whether

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