Divorcees.biz

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Book excerpt

Chapter One

“I hope we’re going to have enough food.”

Connie swept into the large banqueting hall of London’s prestigious Royale Hotel, clutching an elaborately decorated cake towering high above her head. If she held her arms any lower, she would trip over the flounced hem of her long dress.   

“What’re you talking about?” Lucy gestured towards the table. “We’ve mountains of food. I think you’re forgetting we only have five people on our books; the four of us, who set up the whole thing in the first place plus my elderly aunt and she only joined for a laugh.”                                

“Yes, I know all that,” Connie huffed. “But don’t you see, this is what the launch is all about – getting more people to join and…” Unfortunately at that point, she trod on the hem of her dress and stumbled forward. The cake wobbled dangerously in her outstretched arms while she fought to regain her balance.

Seeing what was happening, Lucy rushed forward and managed to grab the cake before it crashed to the floor. “For goodness sake, your dress is far too long. Haven’t you something else you can wear?”

“No!” Connie replied. She hitched up her dress. “Well – not with me, anyway. Besides, I paid a fortune for this creation and I’m going to wear it if it kills me.”

The midnight-blue dress, with its sequined bodice had looked gorgeous draped on the model in the shop window. She knew it would accentuate her blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes perfectly. It was a dress to die for. She simply had to have it, no matter what it cost. But Connie hadn’t taken into account that the display model was several inches taller than she was.

Even the sales assistant, mindful of her commission, had felt duty-bound to point out there might be a problem when it came to actually walking. Yet Connie waved the advice aside, feeling sure it would be the right length when she wore her brand new, platform shoes. However that wasn’t the case: the dress was still so long, she kept treading on it with every step she took.   

It wasn’t so bad when she could hitch it up a little. But carrying something, which needed both hands, was a real problem. She’d very nearly had a catastrophe on her way up the stairs. There was no doubt she would have toppled over when she stepped on the dress without realising it.  That was if a rather attractive man hadn’t rushed to her side and taken the cake from her in the nick of time. 

“It probably will.” Lucy carefully placed the cake in the centre of the table. “If not the dress, then those ridiculous shoes will do the job for you. Just be careful when you go up and down the stairs. And, come to think of it, what on earth were you doing carrying the cake, anyway? Surely a member of the staff should be doing that? We’re paying enough money!”

“I was coming up here, so I thought I would save someone a journey.” Connie smoothed down her dress. “I simply forgot there were so many stairs.”

“Stairs!” Jenny screeched across from the other side of the room. “You mean you carried the cake which, might I add, cost us a small fortune on its own, all the way up the stairs? Why didn’t you at least take the lift?”

“Because I couldn’t press the button to call the lift! I was holding the cake with both hands ­– remember?”

Jenny closed her eyes and shook her head. For an intelligent woman, Connie could be unbelievably dim sometimes.

“I don’t know why we let you talk us into using the Royale in the first place,” Lucy grumbled. She and the others would rather have held the launch for their new dating agency somewhere more modest – more within their tight budget. Yet, somehow, Connie had gotten her own way. But then, didn’t Connie always get her own way? “This whole thing is costing an arm and a leg. I’m sure we could’ve found somewhere less expensive.” 

            “If you recall, I did get a bargain on the catering.” Connie was a little put out by their lack of enthusiasm.

            “But that was only because you allowed the catering manager to gaze down your cleavage while you negotiated the deal.” Jenny grinned.

            “Anyway,” Connie continued, ignoring the last remark, “we want everyone to know our new dating agency, for divorcees only, is a high class organisation – not some seedy, back street knocking-shop set up by a bunch of divorced women on the pull. Everyone recognises the Royale as somewhere special.” She gestured around the room. “Even the Queen has visited this hotel.”      

            “That may be,” said Lucy. “But, I think it’s extremely unlikely Her Majesty will be coming to sign up to our dating agency. I understand she’s happily married.” She frowned. “I still think we should’ve shopped around.”

            “I suppose you’d both have been happy to use the pokey, little nook we call an office for the launch?” Connie shook her head, causing her large, gold earrings to swing vigorously. “I simply felt we should make a big impression.”

            Lucy sighed. “We’ll make a big impression in our bank balance if we don’t manage to enrol a number of people tonight. And we’re not just talking about the Royale. Don’t forget all the ads you put in the papers; they don’t come cheap, especially the glossy magazines. Not to mention these expensive evening dresses you insisted we buy.”

“Talking of evening gowns, how do I look?” Jenny did a twirl. She hated arguments and tried to lighten the mood a little. Lucy was right, though, they had spent too much on this evening. But it was done now, so as far as she was concerned, they might as well enjoy it. Tomorrow was another day.

            “You look great; but then you always do.” Lucy looked down at her more ample shape. She felt so dowdy compared to the other two women. She had chosen to wear a black dress with an A-line skirt, which she had been assured would keep her hips in check. At the moment the dress and her hips seemed to be battling it out between them. She had tried so many diets during her life, yet she never lost more than a few pounds and even those sneaked back on when she wasn’t looking. However, deep down, she knew her love of all things chocolate didn’t help. “You have such a lovely figure and that slim-line dress shows off your trim waist and hips beautifully. I love the shade of green, too.”

She sighed. What she wouldn’t give to look even a little like Jenny. She was tall, attractive, and had the most beautiful auburn hair, which was always perfectly behaved. Whereas Lucy was short and round-ish. Okay, she was very round, with dull, mousy coloured hair, which always did its own thing, no matter how many times she combed it into place. Jenny also had a lovely bubbly personality – so full of life. In fact she had it all. Lucy had never been able to understand why Rob had taken other women to his bed when he had Jenny at home. Some men were morons.

“We all look good tonight.” Connie interrupted her thoughts. 

“I only hope it’ll all be worthwhile after the trouble we’ve gone to,” replied Lucy.

            “Of course it will. However, if you’re going to take that kind of attitude, then we’re on a loser from the start.” Connie crossed her fingers behind her back. She desperately hoped this evening would be a huge success. Lucy was right: she had been the one who insisted on having this grand launch, evening dresses and all. She had told a little white lie when she mentioned the estimated cost of the evening. If they had known the truth, she would never have got her own way.

            The idea of starting up a high-class dating agency for divorced ladies and gentlemen had come late one evening when she and her three friends were having a few drinks at a wine bar. They had been discussing how difficult it was to get a decent man interested in them after going through a divorce.

“I joined a dating agency hoping to meet a nice bloke who was looking for an ordinary girl, with a view to marriage.” Jenny had wailed. “Yet, every man I’ve been introduced to seems to think because I’m divorced, I’ll be up for a quick grope on the back seat of his car.”

            When it appeared the others had faced the same problem, Connie suddenly came up with the suggestion they should start their own dating agency for divorcees only. “Something with a bit of class, and an office in Mayfair,” she’d slurred over her umpteenth glass of wine. After further persuasion, not to mention several more drinks, the others agreed and Divorcees.biz was born.

            The following morning, lying in bed with a cold towel wrapped around her head, Connie hadn’t felt so confident about the whole idea. For a start, it would take a great deal of money to set up. Andrew, her ex-husband, had been very generous in the divorce settlement, but her allowance certainly wouldn’t stretch to paying for an elaborate launch or renting an office in Mayfair. Not unless she drastically cut back on her wardrobe, which was something she was very reluctant to do. However, as she had proposed the idea in the first place and had insisted on an extravagant launch, and an office in Park Lane, she’d kept her reservations to herself. It was only after phoning nearly every person in her address book that she managed to find a room slightly larger than a broom cupboard on the top floor of a tall building on Park Lane. At least they were able to add Mayfair to the address on the top of their stationery and that was a very important factor as far as she was concerned. 

            “It’s almost time.” Lucy looked at her watch. She was beginning to feel a little nervous. “Are we all ready? Does anyone want to go to the loo? We can’t have one of us running off to the ladies room the minute the first person shows up.”

            “If anyone shows up. Some people might be put off by such a grand venue.” Jenny gestured towards the room with its Roman style pillars, gold-flocked wallpaper, and crystal chandeliers. “I’m not sure I would’ve even thought about coming to anywhere like this, simply to join a dating agency.”

            “Nonsense! Of course you would. You enjoy the finer things in life, don’t you?” Connie pursed her lips in disapproval.

            “Well…” Jenny began. The finer things in life were all very nice, but they usually came with a large price tag attached.

            “Of course you do,” Connie interrupted. This was no time for Jenny to put doubts into everyone’s minds. “The only people who’ll be put off by the venue are the kind of people we don’t want anyway. Don’t forget, this is going to be a high-class agency. The right people will come and I’ve lined up a photographer to take some pictures during the evening, as well as photograph every person who joins. He should be here any minute now.”

            Deep furrows appeared on Lucy’s forehead. This was getting out of hand. “A photographer! You mean a real photographer – a photographer that charges lots of money for every click of his camera? Do you know how much those people cost? If you’d mentioned it earlier, I could have asked my brother. He’d have been happy to do it for a couple of drinks.”

            “If we’re going to be an online agency, we need to have really good pictures up there on our site.” Connie paused. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful to your brother, but we want professional photographs to show our prospective clients that we’re an upmarket organisation.”

            “Still,” Lucy pouted, “I think this should have been discussed. You seem to have made all the decisions without even consulting the rest of us.”

            “It’s almost time, Madam.” Connie welcomed the waiter’s interruption. However, her relief was short lived when he continued. “Do you wish me to pour the champagne now?”

            “Champagne!” Lucy hissed. “Are you mad, Connie? We can’t afford champagne.” She looked across at Jenny. “You see what I mean? I didn’t know about the champagne. Did you?”

            “No, I didn’t.” Jenny turned to Connie. “Isn’t it rather extravagant? Goodness knows how much they’ll charge us for champagne in a place like this!”

            “Yes, please pour out a few glasses now,” said Connie, smiling graciously at the waiter. She turned back to her friends. “For goodness sake, keep your voices down. He’ll hear you and think we can’t afford to pay.”

“He’ll be right then, won’t he? We can’t afford to pay!” Jenny insisted. “You’re forgetting, I’m the treasurer of our little venture and I know how much we have in the bank. You should…”

“Well, we certainly can’t afford to skimp on the drinks.” Connie broke in. “Not now we’ve spent so much setting up the launch. Calm down, have a glass of champagne and enjoy the evening.”

            “I’ll enjoy the evening a lot more, when I know we can pay for it.” Lucy grumbled, taking a glass from the waiter. She looked around. “Where’s Sadie? She should be here having some champagne. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her yet.”

            “Wasn’t she downstairs with you, Connie?” asked Jenny.

            “No! I thought she was up here with Lucy.”

            “Oh my God! What’s happened to Sadie? Surely someone must have heard from her,” Lucy wailed.

            A loud thump in the corridor caught their attention. The door swung open and Sadie strode in, towing an extremely large suitcase behind her. She was wearing a long, skin-tight, strapless, white lace dress, which looked in danger of sliding down to the floor any moment, and a pair of ridiculously high-heeled shoes. Dumping the case by the door, she hitched up her dress a little, tripped across to the waiter and took a glass of champagne. “I really need this,” she said, swallowing it down in one go. She replaced the glass and took another.

            “Where the hell have you been?” yelled Connie. “We’ve only just realised you were missing.”

            “You mean I could’ve been stripped naked, raped and left for dead in some back alley, and all the while you guys hadn’t even noticed I was missing?” She looked at the waiter. “Some friends, huh?” Her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose and she pushed them back into place.

            “You do exaggerate, Sadie,” Lucy laughed.

            “Okay, we can take it from here, thank you.” Jenny took the tray from the waiter, who was grinning broadly. “I’m sure there’s something else you should be doing.”

            “Not really. I’m part of the staff that’s been assigned to help out in here tonight,” he replied. “The others will be here to hand out canapés to the guests as they arrive.”

            “Then please help out later. We don’t need you at the moment.” Jenny placed the tray on the table and watched the waiter walk out of the door.

            “Of course we would’ve missed you. It’s just we all thought you were with another one of us – if you see what I mean. Where’re you going, anyway?” Connie pointed towards the suitcase.

            “I haven’t a clue!” Sadie took a sip of champagne. “Alex arrived at the front door a couple of hours ago and said he wanted the flat back. He had some woman with him. He told me she was his new girlfriend.” She pulled a face. “Girlfriend – my arse! She had tart written all over her. Her skirt hardly covered her backside.” Sadie’s glasses slipped down her nose again and she pushed them back.