She shrugged. ‘Don’t worry. I’m used to it. I’ve heard the revolving door joke so many times I’m immune,’ she lied. And yet, even though she heard it every day, even though she was constantly sniped at by thwarted business rivals and the press took endless potshots at her reputation, still, to hear it up here in what had always seemed like the ultimate sanctuary—that hurt.
It wouldn’t be so bad, she thought, if there was any truth in it. If she had even one per cent of the fun she was supposed to have, she wouldn’t feel so hard done by—and maybe that was the trouble.
‘Come on, we’ll get you a nice cup of coffee and a menu to look at, and you can say hello to Mum. She’ll be pleased to see you.’
‘Is she expecting me?’
‘I told her I was bringing a friend in. I didn’t tell her who, but the rest of them seem to have found out.’
‘Won’t the children have said something anyway?’
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