His Last Gamble Read Free Page B

actor himself, he had always been disappointed with Charmaine’s lack of talent, and had always regarded her success in the fashion world as a poor second best. Not that he’d ever said so. But both girls knew that Lucy, although not his blood, was far more his daughter.
    â€˜I know. I’m thinking of trying to break into films. I’ve had it with this starving-artist-in-a-garret gig. My agent thinks it’s a good time for it. So who knows—my next call might be from Hollywood.’
    Charmaine laughed. She could almost picture Lucy’s face, gamine, mobile, a perfect blank canvas for any emotion she cared to portray. But her voice, when it came next, sounded pensive, and Charmaine felt her knuckles tighten on the receiver.
    â€˜So, you’re on the west coast of the island,’ she said, her voice too carefully nonchalant to be sincere. ‘I somehow assumed you’d be in the capital.’
    â€˜Oh, you know Jo-Jo,’ Charmaine said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as tense as she felt. ‘He wanted beaches.’ She didn’t mention the casino. She knew she must never mention that. If Lucy got just one whiff of what she was up to . . .
    â€˜How are you feeling? No stage fright?’ she asked, trying to change the subject, then could have kicked herself. Lucy was bound to think she was just trying to check up on her. As her next, tight little words, proved.
    â€˜I’m fine. I’m not taking any medication. It was an accident, you know. What happened last month.’ Her voice, usually so warm, sounded defensive.
    Charmaine leaned forward on the bed, hugging her stomach with one arm for comfort. It still made her feel physically ill to think how close Lucy had come to dying.
    â€˜No more sleeping pills, sis, I promise,’ her sister reassured her. ‘And I’m having too much fun playing the fair Desdemona to be suffering from stage fright. Besides, Othello is quite a dish. We’re going out for Thai food tonight at this new restaurant by the river.’
    For the next five minutes the two sisters chatted happily, then, with a little cry at the sight of the time, Charmaine said she had to go, and they rang off, promising to speak tomorrow.
    She showered quickly, washing and blow-drying her hair, before tying it back in a complicated but flattering French pleat. She then wound dark, almost black, brown velvet ribbons into the strands, which contrasted beautifully with the silvery sheen of her hair.
    Next, she walked to her wardrobe and drew out the dark brown velvet dress. Too warm, really, for a balmy Barbados night, but she needed it to boost her confidence. It was one of her own creations, from autumn of last year. Cut with almost puritanical simplicity, it clung to her like poured chocolate. A deep v, narrow but plunging almost to her navel at the front was repeated, with a wider v at the back, bearing the delicate bones and contours of her shoulder and spine.
    It clung tightly to thighs and hips, and stopped just above the knee. Accessorising this with a matching pair of chocolate brown high-heels, she completed the ensemble with long amber and tiger’s-eye earrings, and a delicate tiger’s-eye pendant that nestled between her cleavage.
    As she suspected, the contrast to her pale, just-tanning skin and bright light hair was stunning.
    She kept the make-up to a minimum. Rebecca, one of
Jonniee’s
make-up girls, had always assured her that she had perfect skin, and since she was still too much a novice with more complicated make-up, she decided to keep it simple. A little blusher, a touch of mascara and darkening to the brows, and a neutral lipstick.
    She looked like a model.
    She looked perfect for what she needed to do tonight.
    Friends at home would scream with laughter if they could see her now. Gone was the girl who slopped around in jeans and T-shirts, creating gorgeous evening gowns in the converted attic/studio of her small