Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Boss?

‘Of course. That’s why I’ve loaded up all these fancy gizmos on my tech so that we can talk every week!’

Amy wrapped one arm around Toni’s bare shoulders and rocked from side to side. ‘It’s only a few months and I’ll be right back in time to start university in September.’ Then she slid back and sniffed once. ‘And, for the record, I’ll miss you too but I’ll work hard to block out my pain by having the best gap year trip this world has to offer.’

Then she pointed the whip at Toni. ‘All thanks to the lovely Christmas present from my darling sister.’ She nodded over her shoulder. ‘The gals still cannot believe that you bought me a round-the-world plane ticket. Magic!’

‘How else could I get you out of the house long enough to get the plumbing fixed?’ Toni grinned. ‘You’re welcome. But you do remember that there’s one condition. You have to enjoy yourself and not spend the whole time digging up bits of ancient Peru.’

‘I can guarantee it. Oh! Looks like I’m getting the signal. I think more birthday cake might be almost ready. Be back soon.’

And with that Amy got to her feet and sashayed off as though she always wore a black laced-up pink and cream frilly basque and feather-trimmed mules around the house.

Toni sat back in her hard wooden chair and swayed a little from side to side as her whole crew of pals and colleagues from the media company where she worked joined in a very loud and very out of tune version of an old hit song about an uptown girl which was playing at full volume in her honour.

There was cheap Prosecco and white wine spillages and pizza and cheesy biscuit breadcrumbs all over the tablecloth, and probably the new plum lingerie that Amy had squeezed her into as the star of her Birthday Goddess sexy party special. At some point she had lost her shoe under the table when she sat down after all the toasts had been made.

Then Amy had presented her with a crown she had made from gold paper and wire and insisted that she wear it as a party princess. At a jaunty angle, of course.

Worse. Her make-up was probably a wreck after a brief but intense crying jag when Amy had said some incredibly sweet things about how lucky she was to have her as her sister and that leaving home for the first time was not going to change a thing.

The waterworks had started again when Amy gave her a bound book of their mother’s sketches of them as children and told her how proud their late parents would have been of her and what she had achieved, which had everyone in the room reaching for the tissues, paper napkins or, in more than one case, the corner of the tablecloth. There was not a dry eye in the house. Even Amy the Strong ‘accidentally’ dropped her napkin on the floor and had to drop out of sight for a couple of minutes to find it.

Good thing that the birthday chocolate iced cupcakes had arrived just in time to prevent a meltdown of nuclear proportions.

Toni glanced up across the tables and clusters of women spread out around the room. It didn’t matter that she looked a mess and that her guests were in great danger of trashing the dining and living room of a house she was borrowing from Freya Elstrom. Not to her friends, who had come out on a cold February evening to help her celebrate her birthday.

Amy had a lot to answer for. She had told Amy for weeks that she did not want a birthday party. It would only remind her of what had happened on her last birthday, when she had found her so-called boyfriend in the shower with the Brazilian lingerie model who turned out to be his real full-time girlfriend.

The one he had so conveniently forgotten to mention during the previous few weeks when he had been dating her.

That had not been one of her life’s finer moments.

Especially since she had already stripped off and was ready to make sure that Peter was washed in all of his important places.

Hence this surprise party. Toni’s latest project had been staging professional studio photo sessions on the explosion in demand for sex toys and bedroom accessories and daring lingerie among women of all ages. Young and old.

When Toni had mentioned it was her birthday in a few days and the first anniversary of breaking up with her cheating boyfriend then the girls had insisted that they hold a party for her to mark the occasion while Amy was still in London. Complete with the full range of accessories which had been used on the show. Amy thought this was a great idea and had arranged the whole thing while Toni was at work.

These were her real friends. Her real family. Girls from the local school she had known all of her life, who had left their husbands and boyfriends at home for one evening to share her birthday party, pals from her work, students from Amy’s school. All loud, boisterous and having fun. And that was precisely how she liked it. No false pretenses here. Real people who shared her life each and every day.

She was so lucky to have them.

And she was officially on holiday for two weeks. Now that was worth celebrating. Even if she would be spending most of the time painting the company portrait of a very serious-looking businessman. According to his daughter Freya, Dr Lars Elstrom was a quiet academic used to desk work and she had talked him into sitting for his portrait while he was in the office researching some work for a client.

But there was a problem. The painting had to be painted in a specific two-week window in February before her father went back to Italy for the spring. Could she do it?

Piece of cake.

Especially when the cake came decorated with half the fee for the commission in advance.

Thank you, Freya, and thank you, Dr Lars Elstrom.

That fee had bought Amy’s round-the-world plane ticket and was paying to have the boiler replaced in her little house. Hot water! Central heating she could rely on! Bliss. Apparently any tenant thinking of renting her house would expect plumbing that worked. Amazing. Some people had no appreciation of character properties.

Toni glanced out of the dining room window at the flurries of February snow which were forecast to be with them for a few days to come. Not the weather to be modelling fancy lingerie in her freezing terraced house. It might only be thirty minutes away on foot but it might as well be in another world. Brr.

No. Much better to do it here in this nice warm house.

Freya had a lovely home and Toni was going to enjoy living here for the next two weeks rent-free. And with all of the hot water she could use.

She loved patrons who believed in carrying on old traditions! Especially when that tradition meant that the CEO of the company always had their portrait painted by a Baldoni. And since she was the last in the line... Result!

A warm glow of happiness and contentment spread from deep inside her like a furnace that pumped the heat from her heart to the very ends of her fingertips. She had not felt so safe and secure for years. Protected. And cared for and part of a very special community of friends who looked out for one another.

She grinned across at Amy’s best friend, Lucy, who was demonstrating the finer points of how to tie a sarong. They had known one another since they were at primary school together just a few streets away. It was hard to imagine that Amy, Lucy and the other girls parading up and down in various stages of undress would be flying out tomorrow, all ready for trekking through rough terrain in South America.

It was actually happening. Her baby sister was going around the world with her best friends. One month travelling. Four months on an archaeological dig in Peru then another month relaxing. Six months. Three girls. Three boys. All great teenagers she had known for years. But six months? The longest they had lived apart since their parents died was over a year ago, when she’d worked in Paris for five weeks but came home most weekends.

They might have had the training and they all spoke excellent Spanish but the hard reality of what they would be facing made her shudder.

But no sniffles allowed. Time to start living a bit. Right? That was what they’d agreed at some mad hour on New Year’s Day. A new start for both of them. Pity that Amy was insisting that a new boyfriend was part of the package.

Maybe turning twenty-seven was not so bad after all when she had friends like these in her life. So what if she didn’t have a mega career as a fine artist? She had something much better.

And somehow she knew that her father would understand that trying to scrape a living as a portrait painter had never been the life she wanted and never would be. That had been her father’s dearest wish, but it wasn’t hers. No. This portrait for Freya Elstrom would be the last. No more commissions as the last of the Baldoni family. It was time to say goodbye to foolish ideas like that and start focusing totally on her photography career.

Amy sashayed forward with a plate with a cupcake on and leant sideways and rested her head on Toni’s shoulder. ‘I stashed two of the red velvet specials, which I happen to know are your favourite, in the washing machine.’

‘Clever!’ Toni replied and popped a little finger loaded with creamy chocolate icing into her mouth and groaned in delight. ‘Delish. And have I said thank you yet again for arranging all of this? It’s amazing and I love it.’

Amy laughed out loud and gave her a one-armed hug. ‘Several times. It’s the wine, you know. Causes short-term memory loss in older women.’

Then Amy started rubbing her hands together and mumbling under her breath. ‘Now. Back to the important stuff. What totally outrageous thing have you decided to do while I’m away? Remember the rules—it has to be spontaneous, the opposite of what you would normally do, and fun! Points will be awarded for the most ingenious solution!’

‘Dance on the table? Toni suggested then shook her head and waved her arms around. ‘No. Forget that one. The table legs wouldn’t cope with my current body weight and this food is too good to waste. Something outrageous. Um...’

Then she looked over Amy’s shoulder back towards the door leading to the hallway and her breath caught in her throat.

Standing not ten feet away from her was one of the most remarkable-looking men that she had seen in her life.

She was five foot nine so he had to be at least six foot two, from his heavy working boots and quilted jacket to the black cap pulled low over long, crazily curled dirty blond hair.

Slim hips. Broad shoulders. Long legs.

Her gaze tracked up his body before the sensible part of her brain clicked in to stop it.

‘Oh, Amy—’ she breathed in a low hiss of appreciation ‘—I owe you big time.’

‘This is so true! But what particular thing have I done now?’ Amy replied between mouthfuls of cake.