High Heels & Pink Glitter (the heavily edited version)

Fashionistas

To her chagrin, Kelly realised she had been spotted, as Nate approached their booth. "Hiya, Kelly. How are you?"

"Fine." She bared her teeth in a bad imitation of a smile. "How's Ross?"

"Recovering and taking full advantage of his invalid status," he responded, abruptly turning his head, his attention drawn to the commotion at the door. Once again, Leon and Martin appeared to be drop-jawed, stunned expressions on both their faces.

"Is that...?" Martin whispered, digging his elbow into Leon's side. Leon nodded slowly.

At a disadvantage because she was facing the other way, Kelly glanced over her shoulder. Avril Taylor, a Hollywood superstar and darling of Glasgow, stood at the door. There had been a piece in the Evening Times the other week mentioning that she was in the city filming the TV adaptation of Melanie Faulkner's City Girls novels.

Had Avril chosen to stand there deliberately? Backlit, she resembled a glowing angel bringing light, glamour and star quality to ordinary mortals. She was dressed in a scarlet shift dress that accentuated the colour of her hair and the luminous whiteness of her skin. She appeared to be searching for someone, her eyes scanning the room.

To Kelly's astonishment, Nate lifted a hand and Avril nodded.

"You're with her?" Leon's tone, already awed thanks to Nate's physical attraction, became even more deferential.

"Eh, aye. She needed a date for some fashion event she's attending." His expression turned sheepish. "That's why I look like such a twat."

Avril made her way through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea. A couple of bulky, suited men hovered at the doorway. Avril's casual appearance at a Glasgow bar wasn't quite as ordinary as it seemed.

She pecked Nate on the cheek and extended a hand to all of them, the nails on it painted new season release Chanel Singuliere purple pink. "Hello there, I'm Avril Taylor."

Leon and Martin looked as if they had died and gone to heaven. Avril attracted a lot of gay fans. Leon shook her hand first, standing up and asking her if she wanted a seat. She examined her watch—an expensive, elegant time piece that matched her diamond tear-drop earrings. "I think we've got time for one drink," she remarked, sliding in alongside Martin and shaking his hand as well.

The booth was cramped, and Kelly felt Avril's bony knees brush against hers. She twisted her legs away as far as possible, her mind racing with the news that Nate knew Avril. And to think, she'd wondered about him in that way. If Avril Taylor was the type of woman he hung out with, she was wasting her time.

Having consulted everyone on what they wanted to drink, Nate took himself off to the bar. Avril must be like the Queen, where minions always carried her money for her.

"Am I right in thinking you're filming in Glasgow?" Kelly asked, wondering if she could wrangle an interview with Avril. At the very least the Daily Record would pay for it. If she managed a personal angle, then the Daily Mail might bite. Avril Taylor reveals her sorrow when away from Scotland kind of thing.

Avril nodded, leaning forward to make herself heard over the din. "Mmm-hmm. Nate's been training me. How do you know him?"

Oh, training with him. That explained everything, and cheered Kelly up immensely. Although, of course, it shouldn't.

Her mind still on how she might use this information—what about an article on Avril Taylor's workout programme for Women's Health?—Kelly shrugged. "I don't know him that well. My friend designed his website, and I've met him a few times."

Nate reappeared with a tray, two bottles of beer balanced on it, along with two glasses of sparkling water. Sticking to the bottle of Prosecco that wasn't yet finished, Kelly wondered why the two of them had bothered with the pub. The thought must have shown on her face, as Avril explained herself.

"We're in here for old time's sakes," she said, sipping her water. "The event doesn't start for another hour. I used to come here when I was at the Royal Conservatoire." She named Scotland's top performing arts venue.

Leon and Martin fired questions at her. Kelly admired her ability to reveal nothing personal whatsoever. She also deflected questions by asking Leon and Martin about themselves. It was an age-old female tactic that worked nine times out of ten.

Sat across from her, Nate fiddled with his glass. All credit to the guy. He hadn't said a word about training the Avril Taylor.

"I wouldn't have classed you as a fashionista," she said. "It's a great outfit, though."

Nate peered down, as if seeing himself for the first time. "What, really? Avril and me—well, it was her stylist who came up wi' this. If any of ma friends could see me right now..."

He sounded rueful, but then grinned, the smile lighting up his face. It transformed him. Yes, he was attractive, but the smile emphasised his teeth and eyes and made her want to fan herself. "Mmm," she settled for instead. "Though I doubt you'd last long on the streets of Glasgow in that get-up."

"About thirty seconds, I reckon."

Their companions had fallen silent beside them. Avril glanced at her watch once more.

"Nate." She sounded abrupt. "We'd better make a move."

She edged her way out of the booth, signalling to Nate that he should do the same. He glugged the rest of the water and pushed himself to his feet.

Avril raised a hand. "Lovely to meet you all. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"Aye," Nate echoed. "Kelly, I'll be in touch?"

Avril narrowed her eyes at him and the two of them exchanged looks. Whatever was conveyed stopped Avril in her tracks. She smiled broadly at everyone at the table.

"Hey, you always see the same people at these events. Why don't you all accompany me?"

Leon and Martin didn't need asking twice. As media types, they received invites to Glasgow's best and biggest events, but Best Dressed Scotland was something else entirely. Several other young and very well-dressed people were in the bar and Kelly wondered if they too had stopped off for pre-event drinks.

"You must come too, of course." Avril addressed Kelly. The invitation had the air of an after-thought.

"But I'm not dressed for a fashion thingie..." Kelly glanced at her sequin embellished jumpsuit. Lovely as it was, the dress she'd worn to her fortieth was a much more fashion-forward choice.

Her words fell on deaf ears. One of the security guards at the door was pointing outside to the road. The limousine had arrived, and it was time to depart.