Page 91 of Maximum Dare
“And what do you do, Cresilla?” Mum asked.
“I help Mummy out with her charity events.”
“Oh, that’s divine.” My mother had cranked up her aristocratic accent.
I took several gulps of wine, receiving a look of disapproval from Gregory. I took another sip for medicinal purposes, hoping to dull the ache of boredom until Daisy arrived.
I’d have to make some excuse and leave with her. I’d apologize to my mother later. Maybe take her to lunch at her favorite bistro. Or buy her some flowers. Then block her phone number for a week.
“I assume you’re a football fan?” asked Gregory.
“Yes, we’re all fans,” I said. “Nick will be playing for Manchester United this season.”
“We heard,” said Gregory. “You must be proud.”
“We’re thrilled for him,” I said.
“We’re all very sporty, too,” said Cresilla. “We love to ski in the winter. Do you ski?”
“I hate the cold.” I shivered dramatically.
Pain shot into my leg as something sharp connected with my shin. I gave Mum a wide-eyed crazy smile and she withdrew the heel of her Louboutin from what felt like my ankle bone.
“Oh, my goodness,” said Clementine, glancing over my shoulder.
“She looks…familiar,” said Mum, staring in the same direction.
Turning in my seat, I took in the girl at the concierge desk. She was wearing a purple wig and clown makeup.
The girl seemed to be making a beeline towards us.
“Oh, my God,” muttered Clementine.
Daisy, why are you dressed like a clown?
“Hi.” She widened her eyes at me. “I didn’t know there would be others…”
“You look…lovely,” I said, gesturing to her dress.
“Who is she?” Gregory muttered, and then motioned frantically to our waiter.
I pushed to my feet. “Daisy, this is definitely a new look for you…”
“I did try to warn you,” she said, glancing at Cresilla.
Daisy’s gaze swung back to me. She could see we wouldn’t be eating alone tonight. A stunning blonde would be joining us.
Her confused look made my gut wrench in discomfort. I wished I’d texted her with a warning. Still, Daisy looked cute in an artsy just-out-of-Notting-Hill kind of way.
“You remember Daisy, Mum.”
“How could I forget,” sneered Gillian.
The concierge approached Daisy. “Excuse me, miss?”
I waved a hand. “I know her, it’s fine.”
He sidled up to me. “Sir, this is most unusual.”
