Do Not Disturb by Tilly Bagshawe Read Free Book Online Page A

Tina, taking the olive out of her drink and pulling it in and out of her mouth slowly, like a porn star.
    “Really?” Honor was surprised. She hadn’t expected her to give in so easily.
    “Sure,” said Tina. “If I can afford to, that is. Danny pays for a lot of my shit right now. And he’s been talking about setting me up in my own place in LA. I really need to be there now, for my work.” Oh, so
that
was the deal. Blackmail. She’d drop the mobsterif Honor upped her cash. It was such vintage Tina, it actually made her smile.
    “How much?”
    Tina looked blank.
    “How much for you to drop Danny and move to the West Coast?” Honor clarified.
    “Well, LA’s not cheap,” said Tina, downing the last of her cocktail and immediately scanning the room for the waiter to order another. “And I’d have to live in Holmby Hills, obviously.”
    “Oh, obviously,” said Honor, rolling her eyes. Holmby was by far the most expensive neighborhood in the city, outpricing homes in next-door Beverly Hills by almost three to one. “So. How much?”
    “Forty-five a month,” said Tina.
    Honor choked on her water. “Forty-five thousand? Dollars?” she spluttered. “A month? Jesus, Tina. Do you understand the financial hole Dad’s gotten us into? Palmers is losing money every day. Every fucking day.”
    “Fine.” Tina shrugged as her salad arrived and started attacking it with gusto. “So I’ll stick with Danny. He can pay. Or I’ll move to New York. See what turns up there. I am willing to compromise, you know, Honor. I don’t know why you always make me out to be this, like, unreasonable bitch.”
    A move to New York was Honor’s absolute worst nightmare, and Tina knew it. It was bad enough having her sister all over the gossip columns in Boston. But at least Boston was insular, a tiny social world unto itself. Once Tina started flashing her underwear and flaunting her underworld sugar daddies on the New York club scene, it was only a matter of time before the bad press went national.
    Honor was flying out to the Hamptons herself next week, and when she did she wanted Tina to be as far away as possible. For the last month she’d been holed up with the accountants in Boston, poring over Palmers’ depressing P and L and tryingto figure out a plan of action. But the time had come to see the hotel’s problems for herself. She was dreading it.
    “Fine,” she said, waving at the waiter for the check, although she hadn’t touched her own food. “You win. I’ll sign off on forty-five thousand.”
    “Good.” Tina positively beamed with triumph.
    “But I want you on a plane to LA by the end of the week. And the very first whisper I hear about you and that slimeball Carlucci…” Pushing back her chair, she got to her feet. “The money stops like
that
.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis. “Are we clear?”
    “Sure,” said Tina. Having gotten what she wanted, she was more than willing to be accommodating. “I’ll get the check here, don’t worry. And hey, good luck with the hotel next week, OK?”
    “I don’t need luck, Tina,” said Honor drily. “At this point I need a miracle.”
    Slipping on her sunglasses, she strode out of the restaurant.

    Sitting in the back of a blacked-out limo five days later, Honor tried again to focus on the papers in front of her. On the top was a spreadsheet of all the Palmers staff and their monthly wages. Normally she was brilliant with figures, but today for some reason the numbers swirled around her head like the pink elephants in
Dumbo
, and she couldn’t concentrate.
    Giving up, she gazed out the window instead. They were almost at Southampton now, and she could still feel a faint echo of her childhood excitement as the familiar landmarks rolled past: The Boxfarm Inn; the roadside cherry stall that had been there since Honor was a tiny kid and looked completely unchanged; the hollow tree where she and Tina used to play hide-and-seek.
    Honor hadn’t been back