Do Not Disturb by Tilly Bagshawe Read Free Book Online

for an answer.
    A commotion out on the restaurant terrace made Honor look up. A small gaggle of kids, college boys by the look of them, had pushed their way through the tables and were fighting with each other trying to get pictures on their cell phones, much to the annoyance of the alfresco diners.
    “Step back now, please.” A booming male voice rang out through the melee. “No pictures. Let Miss Palmer through.”
    Honor put her head in her hands. Why did her sister always, always have to make a scene?
    Dressed utterly inappropriately for the formal restaurant in a tiny pair of white shorts and pink tank top, Tina was strutting through the throng, accompanied by a suited black man not much smaller than a rhino.
    “Hi,” she said breathlessly, reaching Honor’s table at last but sitting down only once she was sure that all eyes in the room were on her.
    “Sorry about that. Ever since I hooked up with Danny I can’t seem to go anywhere without, you know,” she waved regally at the gaggle of boys outside, “all this shit.”
    “Is Godzilla staying for lunch?” Honor asked frostily, nodding at the black giant who stood looming over them, arms folded, like a sentinel. “Because if so, you can eat on your own.”
    “He’s my security,” Tina pouted. “I need him.”
    Seeing Honor pushing her chair back to leave, she reluctantly relented.
    “Oh, all right then. Mike,” she turned to the heavy, “you’d better go wait in the car. I won’t be long.”
    Once he’d gone and the furor in the restaurant had finally died down, Honor let her have it: “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.
    “What do you mean?” Tina feigned innocence. It wasn’t a look that suited her.
    “Turning up here looking like Christina fucking Aguilera,” said Honor. “Courting publicity like some cheap starlet. You promised me you’d cut it out, at least until I make some progress with Palmers. You know how conservative our clientele are—what’s left of them,” she added ruefully. “Everything this family does reflects on the business.”
    “Blah, blah, blah,” said Tina, looking bored. “Change the record, would you? Martini,” she added, barking at the waiter without looking up.
    “And you’re late,” said Honor. Her green cat’s eyes were flashing with irritation, and her knuckles were white from where she’d been clenching her napkin so tightly. But other than that she betrayed no outward sign of her fraying patience. Unlike Tina, she had always preferred to keep her inner feelingsprivate. Even at school, kids used to tease her that the
“C”
of her initials—actually “Constance” in Honor C. Palmer—stood for “Control.”
    “I’m late because people kept stopping me for pictures,” said Tina. “And I’m not courting publicity, thank you very much. I can’t help it if people find my life exciting or think I’m a sex symbol or whatever, can I? That’s the way life is when you’re a famous actress.”
    Honor bit her lip. The arrogance was breathtaking.
    “Tina, you’ve done two commercials. That doesn’t make you a famous actress.”
    “It makes me an actress,” Tina shot back. “And dating Danny’s made me famous. Whether you like it or not.”
    Ah, yes. Danny.
    Danny Carlucci, officially a local real estate entrepreneur, was in fact a well-known mafioso, tapped by those in the know as the likely future boss of Massachusetts. He was pushing sixty, heavily overweight, and already had a wife, two grown sons, and a legion of grandchildren. He was also Tina Palmer’s latest lover.
    “We need to talk about that, too,” Honor whispered. “It’s got to stop.”
    Tina’s martini arrived at the same time as Honor’s sparkling water. Taking their drinks, they both ordered salads—Tina was on a diet and Honor seemed to have suddenly lost her appetite. It was a few minutes before either of them spoke again.
    “I’m open to it. Breaking it off with Danny, I mean,” said