Prosecco & Paparazzi (The Passport Series Book 1) by Celia Kennedy Page B

about police records, harassment charges…” My voice trailed off as I returned to my thoughts for a few moments. “What happened…?” My question was left hanging in the air, my eyes filled with tears.
    Soon, I was wrapped in Tiziana’s arms as she whispered in my ear, “Darling, I’m so sorry.”
     

Chapter Four
    MY HOPE WAS THAT , when I returned home to New York City, all this bizarreness would be left behind in Chamonix. The interest of the paparazzi had quickly dropped off upon Des’s departure. I waited for the tabloids to find out about the restraining order, but I was spared that humiliation, which made the last few days somewhat enjoyable.
    A serious cold front descended on the mountains, so we left the slopes to the more intrepid explorers. With only a few days left, we spent time enjoying the village’s eateries, festivities, and nightlife.
    One night, Marian was trying to get the barman’s attention and became desperate enough that I thought she might take her bra off and raise it like a flag. Just as I was about to intervene, a nearby voice said, “Aren’t you the girl who was having a roll in the snow with Des Bannerman?”
    Looking through the cigarette fog, I returned my focus to within five feet of myself and gazed at the fellow. His clothes were nondescript, and his voice and body language made it clear he wasn’t trying to pick me up.
    “Probably paparazzi,” Hillary whispered in my ear. “You have the wrong girl, we’ve only just arrived. We saw the articles in the magazines. Is she still here? We heard she left town right after Des Bannerman,” she lied boldly. The guy just shrugged his non-descript shoulders and left to troll the bar.
    After that, my fifteen minutes of fame appeared to be well and truly over. We were enormously relieved when the attention returned to Tiziana, leaving us only the simple challenge of allowing one male at a time to vie for her attention.
    Finally, the day arrived for me to fly home. My flight was scheduled for the evening before everyone else’s. Packed and teary-eyed, with my coat on and a taxi waiting for me, I confessed to my friends, “I really couldn’t have done it without you. Get the restraining order, I mean! You really should consider yourselves responsible. Not only did you help me find and meet Des Bannerman, you did bugger all to protect me from him. But don’t worry, I forgive you! Well, I’ll only truly forgive you if the next time we meet up, one of you has his balls in your hand!”
    “Now, that’s the spirit! I’m glad you didn’t let it get you too down,” Marian said while giving me another hug.
    Hillary pushed Marian aside. “I’m glad you finally met him, though. Perhaps now you’ll quit mooning over him. Move on to someone more worthy, like George Clooney.”
    Kathleen moaned. “Next time we come here, I expect you to help me meet Prince Harry. He doesn’t seem to mind mixing with the riff-raff.”
    “Don’t worry, darling, we’ll never let that horrible man hurt you again. We’ll be certain he knows how terribly he’s treated you. We’ll talk soon, bella!” Tiziana reassured me as she embraced me and gave me a peck on each cheek.
    “Be good to yourself!” the girls called as I stepped into the taxi.
    Famous last words, I thought a few days later when I stepped through the etched glass doors that divided our offices from the corridor.
    For reasons unimaginable, every wall and bulletin board was covered with photographs and articles about my tryst with Des Bannerman. Des and me at the casino, Des and me at the theatre, Des and me getting in the car, Des and me standing in the fog, Des and me entwined in the snow, Des and me looking shocked. It was overwhelming and over the top.
    “I’m going to find out who the hell is behind this and sue their ass off!” I muttered under my breath as I tugged one of the most offensive magazine covers off the wall.
    As I was about to turn around and leave, I heard my name