Hollywood Sinners

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The trip had been extended. Stupidly she hadn’t brought next month’s Pill. She’d been ready to tell Robert that they’d need to use other precautions, before thinking at the weekend, Why should we? They both wanted kids, they’d discussed it before. Since arriving in France conversation had been so scant that sex was the only real communication they were sharing. Perhaps a baby would help get things back on track.

Now her period was late.

She extracted the test from her purse.

For the first time since she and Robert had got engaged, she wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted it to say.

Robert St Louis was trying to ignore the fact that one of his investors’ wives, a sharp-featured English woman with a tightly drawn chignon, had been giving him the come-on all night. Earlier, on the way to the restroom, she had pushed herself up against him and promised in a husky upper-class voice, ‘Later.’ Somehow he knew that later would never come.

The waiter came to take their order. It was a big table: as well as Robert, Bernstein and his two daughters, they were dining with three key financiers and their immaculately groomed wives. But what was taking Elisabeth so long?

‘Here she comes,’ droned Jessica, stirring her martini.