Good at Games by Jill Mansell Page B

each…?”
    Leaning forward with the phone balanced between her ear and her shoulder, Suzy was carefully repainting her toenails a dazzling shade of violet. She paused and listened to Lucille’s reply.
    â€œOh. Oh, I see. Well, that’s a shame but never mind. Another time. How about tomorrow? Oh, right, you’re busy then as well, are you? Maybe over the weekend, then. Ummm…you wouldn’t happen to know offhand what Harry’s phone number is, I suppose? Only he wrote it down for me the other week, but I lost it.”
    At the other end of the phone, Suzy detected barely concealed amusement.
    â€œNo, you didn’t lose it,” said Lucille, “because he never gave it to you in the first place.” She hesitated for a second, clearly struggling with her loyalties. “Look, don’t tell him I told you this, but Harry bet me a fiver you’d ask me for his phone number.”
    â€œYou’re kidding! The nerve of the man,” Suzy exclaimed.
    â€œYes, well, that’s kind of the way he is with girls. He’s just so used to them hurling themselves at his feet…oh, you know how some men can get.”
    Interestinger and interestinger.
    â€œYou mean he’s a good-looking bastard who treats women like dirt.” Suzy’s stomach did a quick, pleasurable squirm. Good-looking bastards had always been her big weakness, they were such a challenge.
    Like Jaz, of course.
    Well, who’d want a wimp?
    â€œHarry can be a bit…arrogant, I suppose.” Lucille sounded apologetic. “I mean, he is lovely, but—”
    â€œAh, just give me the number.” Suzy smiled, touched by her concern. “And don’t worry, I can look after myself.”
    * * *
    You couldn’t blame the girls for hurling themselves at him, Suzy thought, opening the front door an hour later.
    There was no getting away from it. He was gorgeous.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she told Harry, “but I have to ask you this. Your eyes. Are they real?”
    â€œThey look it, don’t they? But they actually aren’t.” He opened them wide and rolled them from side to side. “They’re made out of papier-mâché, PVA glue, and the tops from dishwashing liquid bottles. I saw it done on the Disney Channel.”
    Suzy studied his eyes closely. He wasn’t wearing colored contacts. Phew, thank goodness for that. She couldn’t be with a man who’d stoop to colored contacts.
    And—double hooray—he was looking a lot more cheerful now than he had last night.
    â€œI hope Lucille didn’t think I was only calling her for your number,” Suzy told him. “Do you think she thought that? I really did want to see her, you know. She said she was busy tonight and tomorrow night… D’you know if that’s true?”
    Suzy had her doubts about this. To be honest, Lucille had sounded evasive.
    But Harry nodded. “Oh yes, she’s working.”
    â€œWell, that’s a relief. And a coincidence,” Suzy exclaimed, “because I wanted to ask you what Lucille does. Hang on, working in the evenings, let me guess…she’s a nurse?”
    â€œRight, OK, bit of an awkward situation,” said Harry after a pause. He pushed his fingers through his dark, curly hair. “The thing is, Lucille didn’t want to tell you what she does.”
    â€œBut that’s just mad! I’m a real estate agent, for heaven’s sake.” Suzy looked amazed. “There aren’t many jobs more embarrassing than that.”
    Wooop-wooop , shrilled Harry’s car as he aimed his key at it.
    â€œWhat Lucille does isn’t embarrassing. She’s just terrified of you thinking she’s only latching on to you for one reason.” Taking Suzy’s hand, Harry led her across the road. “Look, she’s not going to be thrilled with me, but why don’t we pay her a visit? Doesn’t it drive you