Summer at Tiffany's by Karen Swan Page A

was enjoying the feel of the sun on his face – his favourite feeling, in fact. ‘Couture runthroughs. Finished yesterday. Almost killed me.’ He looked at Cassie through one open eye. ‘
Plenty
of gossip. Want to hear it?’
    â€˜I don’t know. Do I?’
    Bas regarded her for a moment – pale, puffy eyes – and shook his head. ‘Later maybe. Now’s not the time. We all know you’re not the best in the mornings.’
    She swatted his arm playfully, but wondered what he had to share with her. She had walked through his world for only a short time in that brief, exciting ‘gap year’, as her friends called it, when her marriage to Gil had blown up in her face and she’d lived in each of their cities for a season. Kelly had looked after her in New York, introducing her to Bas and giving her a job at her fashion PR firm, which hadn’t gone
that
well, but there had been flashes of fun and first dabs of happiness again on her vastly altered landscape. She had tasted freedom and independence, been made over in the image of the butter-blonde, ultra-toned Manhattanite and fallen madly in lust, conducting a highly inappropriate affair that was off plan and out of character – and exactly what she’d needed.
    She blinked the thoughts away. She never let herself think about
him
anymore. The way things had ended . . . it had felt almost more toxic than the end of her marriage.
    Anouk had lit up and was staring out over her neighbours’ gardens with slitted, interested eyes and Cassie wondered whether the German man at number 24 was gardening nude again.
    â€˜How’s Guillaume?’
    Anouk sucked a little harder on her cigarette. ‘Didn’t you ask me that yesterday?’
    â€˜Yes, but that was on the phone. This is face to face. Now you have to give me a proper answer.’
    â€˜I think you would much rather hear about Bas’s
divertissement
with his new man.’
    Cassie frowned, her curiosity really piqued now. ‘I do, of course, want to hear about that, everything. All the gory details,’ she said, squeezing Bas’s skinny calf. ‘But I was asking about
you
. What’s happened? What’s wrong?’
    â€˜Nothing is wrong.’ She paused before giving a weary sigh. ‘Everything is right. That is the problem.’
    Cassie’s face fell, understanding the problem immediately. Men just fell too deeply in love with her, which was a problem for a woman who craved a little danger. ‘You’re bored.’
    â€˜It’s not his fault.’
    â€˜No, of course not,’ Cassie said loyally; she had always liked Guillaume.
    â€˜And it’s not mine either.’ Anouk was typically unapologetic, frank about what she did and didn’t want. In some ways, Cassie was surprised they had lasted as long as they had, although Anouk had been so bruised by the end of her long-term great love affair it had been no surprise that even she had needed to retreat to a place of safety for a while.
    â€˜Have you met someone else?’
    â€˜Not yet.’
    â€˜But you’ll tell him before it gets to that.’
    â€˜
Bien sûr.
I am very fond of him.’
    Bas met Cassie’s eyes and she gave a small shrug. Her friend’s Gallic insouciance could be hard to relate to sometimes, and she knew Bas’s soft-heartedness often translated it as coldness.
    A sound behind made them all turn and Cassie bit her lip anxiously as she heard the sound of keys being dropped onto the kitchen counter. Henry came and stood in the doorway, a surprised look and then a bemused smile growing on his lips. He looked like a fallen angel, all stubble and piercing eyes that seemed to see more than anyone else. ‘Well, well, well, what’s this? The naughty kids sneaking fags on the stairs and spying on the neighbours?’
    He bent down to Anouk – his eyes well away from Cassie – and she kissed him on