Sins by Penny Jordan

Author:Penny Jordan [Penny Jordan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780007331659
Google: HZd8Fz3_NwAC
Amazon: B002RI9QUS
Goodreads: 6305827
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2009-07-25T14:00:00+00:00

Josh had been waiting for Rose for over half an hour. She was never late. The pub was packed, it being Christmas Eve, heaving with bodies and a sense of cares being thrown aside in favour of celebrating the season. Outside it was freezing cold and he was knackered. One of his stylists had thrown a full-on dramatic hissy fit with one of the juniors on whom he also had a massive crush, and had ended up walking out, which had meant that Josh had had to take on his clients as well as his own. The air inside the pub surrounded him with a relaxing fug of warmth and cigarette smoke, making him reluctant to move from the table he had managed to bag when he had first come in.

But Rose was now very late. He knew she had been working at the Russells’ and that was enough to have his nerves firing on all cylinders. He reached for his overcoat, a new one, bespoke, made by his father’s friend Harry Cohen in his Savile Row shop. It was black and made from pure cashmere, and he’d made poor old Harry almost weep when he’d demanded that he cut it into such a narrow fit, but Josh was well pleased with the result. He was wearing handmade shoes as well–both the coat and the shoes a Christmas present to himself. The salon was starting to make proper money for him, and it would make more. Josh grinned at the pert-looking blonde eyeing him up as he squeezed past her. He liked to change his girls as regularly as he changed his shirts; that way none of them got any silly ideas about tying him down. Josh had ambitions, big ones, and they didn’t include getting married and ending up with a wife and half a dozen kids to support. He’d already started to get one or two girls coming in who hung around with the new singers and groups whose records were in the music charts, and once they’d got into the new year he intended to try to persuade Ollie to let him cut the hair of one of his many model girlfriends–one who was likely to be photographed for Vogue.

The air outside the pub was ball-shrinkingly cold, the sky clear and studded with stars. Josh knew the address of the Russells’ mansion flat. It was a good half-hour’s walk away, but there wasn’t a taxi in sight. Not that that bothered Josh. He liked a challenge. The Dorchester was the nearest posh hotel, so he headed for it, using a small rear entrance and then making his way to the foyer, strolling through it and out past the uniformed doorman, who asked politely, ‘Taxi, sir?’

Josh just managed to suppress his grin of triumph when the doorman hailed one of the cabs waiting for the Dorchester’s wealthy clients. It was worth the tip he’d had to give the doorman just to be inside the warmth of the taxi instead of outside on the freezing cold street.

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