Page 39 of His Beautiful Revenge
Orlando put down the plates he was holding and came to her. He pulled her into a hug. “You don’t need to justify yourself to me, Zul. I think you should; it’ll bring you some confidence.”
They cleared away the mess together in a companionable silence. Before she said goodnight, she paused at the bottom of the stairs. “It doesn’t have to be just yet, Lando.”
Orlando’s smile was warm. “It can be whenever you feel ready. As far as I’m concerned …this is your home too.”
Much, much later, Zulika would realize that was the moment when she fell in love with him.
The girl, not older than eighteen, had rainbow-colored hair, tattoos, and a broad grin. “Like I said, I ain’t had too much experience since leaving school, but I love books more than anything. Give me Harper Lee or Jack Kerouac over the telly anytime.”
Her broad Cockney accent sounded strange in this most American of surroundings, but Norah and Zulika shared a glance and a smile. The girl—“Fred. That’s what I prefer. Call me Freda and I won’t answer. Stupid bloody name.”—had walked in off the street. They’d actually witnessed her doing a body swerve when she saw the ‘hiring’ notice in the window. She was a regular customer, had chatted with both Norah and Zulika on occasion, and now the two women knew they had found their new colleague.
“When can you start, Fred?” Zulika said warmly and watched as the girl’s eyes widened.
“Really?”
Norah grinned. “Really. You had us at ‘wotcha,' whatever that means.”
Fred laughed. “It’s London for ‘Hiya.' God, thank you so much. I’m so fucking excited. Whoops, sorry.”
Zulika rolled her eyes. “It’s fine. Just not in front of the customers. So, seriously, when can you start?”
“Right now, if you like.”
They laughed. “How about in the morning?” Norah said and Zulika nodded. Fred hesitated then hugged them both.
“Seriously, dudes, thank you. I have all the visa stuff I need. Shall I bring it in?”
Zulika nodded. “Do, and we’ll do all the paperwork we need to. So, welcome toAnthology.”
After Fred, who was obviously excited as hell, had left, Norah looked at her friend. “How are you feeling?”
Zulika hid a smile. It was the third time that morning that Norah had asked. “I’m good. Really good, I promise. I’ve been spending some time back at my apartment, getting used to being independent again. I miss Lando and Ferma, but I think it’s something I need to do.”
Norah smiled. “I bet they miss your cooking.”
Zulika laughed. “Lando’s actually a much better cook than me. All I do, really, is remember all the Indian food you taught me how to make and try to recreate it. Sometimes it works better than others. Ask Lando about the fish curry …yeah, that was an adventure.”
Norah laughed. “I shudder to think. How’s he doing?”
“Frustrated that the police have given up on finding Carmel’s killer.”
“Giacomo’s got his men on it.”
“They find anything?”
Norah grimaced, shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. Not yet.”
There was a long silence. “Have you heard from Lucian again? Lando told me that he’d been bothering you.”
Norah sighed. “Not since I mangled his junk with my knee, thank god. Maybe he’s finally taken the hint.”
“Let’s hope.”
Norah left Zulika alone and went up to her office to sort through some emails. Her schedule was filled through to the end of the year, and for a moment, she felt overwhelmed.This is what you have worked for, Reddy,she told herself and drew in a long breath. She pulled up the details of the three contracts she was working on: one for a designer clothing store in the city, another for a cosmetics company, and the last and biggest, the one which would make her name, a campaign for one of San Francisco’s most exclusive boutique hotels. On that one, she would be working with an advertisement agency who had connections worldwide. If she could nail it, her network would grow exponentially.
She set about outlining her ideas, doing rough sketches of what she envisioned, and before long, it was late afternoon and Zulika had come to say goodbye.
“Have to pick the munchkin up from school,” Zulika told her as she pulled on her jacket. It was late spring, but a cold front had rolled in from the ocean. She kissed the top of Norah’s head. “Don’t work too late; that gorgeous man will be waiting for you.”
