Superstar Read Free Page B

contents of her suitcase, now spread all over the
bed, in despair. How the hell was she going to dress for dinner?
She picked up her best pair of black jeans and hurled them across
the room. She couldn't wear jeans to dinner. That left a floral
skirt and a doubtful collection of blouses. She picked up the skirt
and held it against herself. The material was so thin it was almost
see-through. Usually she wore a petticoat with it, but of course,
she had neglected to pack one.
    Rummaging in
the pile of underwear, she found a pair of black tights. They could
be worn on their own, but she had always considered that too
revealing, and usually wore a long shirt over them. She pulled out
a black sleeveless T-shirt. Well, it would have to do. An
embroidered sash around the waist, a few accessories, and she would
be reasonably well dressed. The only black shoes she possessed were
a pair of plimsolls, so she put them on. The skirt was long, and
the black tights were visible through it, but she thought the
combination was interesting.
    Using
her hairbrush with vigour, she slicked back her hair. She
considered her meagre armoury of make-up, which consisted of
eyeliner, mascara, powder and eye shadow. No use in plastering it
on, he had already seen her without any, and nothing could be worse
than that, except maybe being overdone. Seven o'clock approached,
so she applied the make-up sparingly. The end result was not bad;
it brightened her features and made her eyes look larger. A touch
of pink lipstick, and she was ready.
    Helen
waited at the bottom of the stairs, and her scathing look spoke
volumes as Carrin reached her. Carrin glared at the maid, who
turned and led the way down a hall to the side of the main entrance
hall. Helen wore a little more make up than before, a deep red
lipstick that complemented her creamy skin and ink-black hair. With
a contemptuous smile, she threw open the double wooden doors to a
massive lounge with a dining room next to it, visible through an
archway.
    A crowd
stood by a polished oak bar or sat on the luxurious cream leather
sofas, drinking and talking. Most turned at her entrance, and she
spotted Mark Lord by the bar, his presence like a beacon. He was
still clad in the black and grey outfit he had worn earlier. A
stunningly lovely red-head clad in a sleek white evening dress of
watered silk with a sequin-studded top clung to his arm. She was
the same supermodel Carrin had seen him with in the paparazzi
magazine. The sultry beauty leant over and spoke in Mark’s ear, but
he remained expressionless. She had to lean over, because she was
at least two inches taller than Mark Lord.
    As she
crossed the room towards her host, Carrin knew she was distinctly
dowdy amongst so many well-dressed celebrities, much like a
farmyard rooster in a flock of peacocks. The women's dresses were
straight out of fashion magazines, and any one of them must have
cost more than her mother's farm made in a year, maybe two. In
fact, one woman wore enough diamonds to buy the smallholding twice
over. Raising her chin, she approached the bar. Mark came to meet
her, offering her a barstool. She perched on it as the waiter asked
what she would drink, and he handed her the shandy she
requested.
    Mark turned to the supermodel beside him. "Jenna, I'd like
you to meet my house guest, Carrin York. Carrin, this is Jenna
Morden."
    Carrin smiled.
"Pleased to meet you."
    Jenna returned her smile coldly. "Likewise, I'm sure."
    Mark
Lord indicated someone behind Carrin, and she turned to face a
blond, blue-eyed man with classical good looks and the build of a
Greek god barely hidden by a lightweight suit. He grinned,
revealing even white teeth, as Mark Lord introduced him as Simon
Grey. Carrin smiled, a little overwhelmed. Simon Grey was another
superstar who always appeared in lead roles, a famous heartthrob
adored by millions of women. She shook his hand, then Mark Lord led
her away to meet the rest of his guests. They were all famous,
mostly