The January Wish by Juliet Madison Read Free Book Online Page B

what I’m wearing, don’t you worry.’ Sylvia yanked the long black dress with ruffled chiffon neckline out from its hanger, almost ripping the shoulder seam on the way. She placed it on the bed then reached up to remove the strappy heels from the front-opening transparent shoe boxes stacked neatly from floor to ceiling, organised by colour, type, and purpose. Not that there were many different colours, only black, cream, and one pair of white sandals. Flats lived at the bottom, and heels towered above, gradually increasing in heel height by the time they reached the top.
    ‘Good, so I’ll see you at my place at 2 p.m.?’
    ‘Absolutely, see you then.’ Sylvia hung up the phone and carried the dress to the laundry to iron it, making a mental note to tighten the threads on the shoulder seam.
    A few hours later she’d picked up Larissa, who reluctantly put on her ‘Bride-To-Be’ tiara, and driven her and the three other bridesmaids, plus some other friends, to a classy day spa in the city of Welston, about a half hour’s drive from Tarrin’s Bay. Going there always reminded her of times gone by. She’d had placements at Welston hospital during her training. Sadly, it now also reminded her of Richard, as this was where he worked and lived.
    Each woman was to get a facial, foot massage, and their hair and make-up done, before heading over to The Rooftop Restaurant and Bar. When Sylvia had been put in charge of organising the night, she immediately booked the actual rooftop of the restaurant, aware of how quickly it booked out to group functions. She’d had her thirtieth birthday party there, and the atmosphere, food, and service was impeccable. Despite her birthday being in autumn, the weather had been mild, and the chimineas on the rooftop kept the surroundings comfortably warm. Today, though, was a steamy thirty-three degrees, so she doubted the chimineas would be in action tonight.
    Sylvia slipped out of her dress and into the robe provided by the day spa, and rang the tiny bell to indicate she was ready for her pampering session. Well, ready at least, but pampering she was not used to. She always felt she should be doing something productive, instead of wasting time having her skin rubbed, massaged, and slathered with creams containing God knows what Miracle Ingredient sourced from some exotic country or an obscure part of an amphibian’s anatomy. But heck, she may as well try to enjoy it. It could take her mind off Richard. She still couldn’t believe he’d been so inflexible and heartless. Okay, so she didn’t tell him she had a daughter, but she wasn’t exactly expecting to bump into her, at least not yet.
    ‘Okay Sylvia, close your eyes and try to relax…’ the beautician’s soft voice permeated the room as she floated in.
    Why was it that whenever someone said ‘try to relax’ she’d end up becoming more tense? It was like at work when she’d say to patients, ‘try to think of something nice’, while shoving a hypodermic needle into their deltoid muscle.
    As the beautician rhythmically lathered a thick cleansing cream over her neck and cheeks in soft upward movements, she somehow got a mental image of slopping a heap of cream onto Richard’s face, in a kind of ‘take that!’ gesture. Like they did with a cream pie in old movies. The bastard, he didn’t even stay to talk about the issue that night, he simply left. Just like that! Oh well, maybe she’d be better off without him, if he was the type to run at the first hint of commitment. Besides, once when he helped load the dishwasher, he put the forks and spoons together in the same segment of the cutlery holder. Unforgiveable!
    As the Richard in her mind tried to wipe the cream away from his face so he could breathe again, gluggy droplets of cream bobbed up and down and side to side as he cried, ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing!’
    Laughter burst out of Sylvia’s throat, as the image of Richard looking like a cross between a