The Glamorous (Double) Life of Isabel Bookbinder by Holly McQueen

Author:Holly McQueen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books

Katriona is not pleased with my Super-Hair.

Well, she doesn’t actually say this, but the glances I see her shooting in my direction as I come downstairs for our party speak volumes.

She doesn’t seem pleased with the styling work I’ve done on the Very Very Little Black Dress either. With the thickest black tights I own, I’ve managed to make the hemline hover on the right side of revealing, as opposed to practically gynecological. I’ve also pulled it down as far as it will go on the top half. This has made it more of a high-waisted skirt than an actual dress, but with the little sparkly black sweater I’m wearing over the top, nobody will notice.

“Gorgeous hair,” Katriona says thinly once we’re in the cab and on our way.

Looking out the window for MI5, I’m too distracted to answer. But neither Frizz-Hair nor her Nissan seems to be there anymore, thank God.

“You know, with a long, thin face like yours, that fringe really works.”

Oh. God. She’s “complimenting” me again.

I just smile. “I can’t thank you enough for inviting me tonight, Katriona.”

She looks put out that I’m not rising to her bait. “Oh. Well. That’s quite all right, Isabel. Jennifer and Gordon are very much looking forward to meeting you.”

“Really?” I feel my heart skip.

“Well, of course they are,” she says, applying apricot lipstick that’s going to clash with her royal dress the moment she takes her coat off. “I actually spoke to Jennifer earlier today, and she practically dropped the phone when I told her more about Showjumpers.”

Milly Barnsley, do your worst, I think as we pull up outside Claridge’s and a gold-braided doorman opens the door to let us out.

“Kat! Over here!”

It’s Myles Salisbury-Kent. He’s leaning against the wall, smoking, his tie loose around his neck, as usual. It’s probably partly the light, but he looks a lot less ginger than I remember.

“Darling,” Katriona kisses him. “Pay the cab man, will you? Neither Isabel nor I brought any money.”

“Isabel?” Myles’s jaw literally drops. I don’t know if it’s gratifying or incredibly insulting. “You look amazing,” he continues. “I mean, my God! I hardly recognized you!”

All right. It’s incredibly insulting.

“I sent Iz to Luc,” Katriona butts in. “And I bought her this little dress. Sweet, isn’t she?”

“I’ll say,” says Myles, sounding posher than ever. “Well, well, Isabel. Aren’t you the belle of the ball?”

“Myles, darling! You know I’m always the belle of the ball.” Katriona gives her tinkly laugh. “Now let’s go in. I’m freezing!”

I have to say, the bar at Claridge’s is just a teensy bit disappointing. The lack of cocaine-snorting celebrities in the toilets at the Wolseley should probably have given me a bit of a heads-up. But it could literally have been any bar, in any hotel, pretty much anywhere. It’s incredibly dark and smoky, and stuffed to the gills with people knocking back booze like there’s no tomorrow. The men are mostly dressed like Myles, in crumpled designer jackets and untucked handmade shirts, and they’re all smoking furiously.

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