The Summer Flings Travel Club: A Fun, Flirty and Hilarious Beach Read. Aimee Duffy

make the most of it if it killed her.

       Chapter Two

      Gem let out a low, star struck squee. ‘Don’t look now, but Shakira’s behind you!’

      Ciara turned anyway, pretending to dig something out of her bag and saw the same thing Gem did. A woman with a mass of gorgeous blonde hair ordering a smoothie at the outdoor café they’d taken a break at. And there was no mistaking who it was – those hips didn’t lie.

      ‘I love LA,’ Elle said. ‘There’s pretty and celebrity everywhere.’

      There definitely was. Elle and Gem had dragged her around the designer shops all afternoon and they’d spotted movie stars, an opera singer and the host of a reality TV show. But the high was mixed with anxiety when Elle got an outfit that probably cost more than her house back home and Gem’s wasn’t far off. Part of her wished her friends hadn’t scored tickets to the premiere later, but when would she ever get the chance to go to something this amazing again?

      ‘You know, you can get a new outfit too, Ciara,’ Gem said, waving her father’s plastic Amex around. It was as tempting as the double fudge and raspberry sundae they wouldn’t let her order (they had dresses to squeeze into later, after all). ‘I don’t have a limit.’

      ‘I told you, I don’t want to spend your money,’ she insisted, again.

      They didn’t understand, since technically neither had paid their bills ever. One of the only things that frustrated her about her friends was that they hadn’t a clue how much money was worth – and how hard it was for the normal people in the world to get it.

      They didn’t get how tempting it was to ditch her morals and let them get her the prettiest dress, shoes, handbag and jewels in all of LA, either.

      But they got the important stuff. The first night she met them she was studying in the library at uni and it had hit her hard that she was really alone. At school she’d always gone home to her da and been able to tell him about her day but all bets were off in England. That’s when Gem and Elle had found her.

      She’d escaped to a quiet corner in the library when the waterworks started. They’d cheered her up, comforted her and made her feel like she had other people in her life who cared. People she could rely on.

      They’d grown so close over the years they even knew her worst fears and insecurities – mainly that she’d end up like her ma.

      But, more importantly, they knew how much she hated charity.

      ‘Okay, so if you don’t want to hit our plastic, but you’re miserable about having nothing—’

      ‘I’m not miserable and I do have something,’ she said, cutting Elle off.

      ‘That’s why you’ve been all smiles since we left Gucci?’ Gem asked.

      ‘Is this pick on Ciara day?’ She wasn’t budging, or spending enough to buy her da a house for one party. It was madness. Wasn’t it?

      Elle relaxed back into her chair with a calculating gleam that kept Ciara sharp, despite her wavering. After sipping on her ice tea, Elle said, ‘Okay, so you rent. You can afford that, surely.’

      ‘Rent?’ she asked.

      Gem clapped her hands. ‘Yes! Why didn’t I think of that?’

      ‘Because I’m trained to see every angle and you’re trained to see whatever’s in front of you,’ Elle suggested.

      Before a fight erupted about business management verses biological science, Ciara jumped in quickly, ‘How do I do that?’

      ‘Exactly how Shakira does it!’ Gem said too loudly. Ciara hoped the woman was out of earshot. ‘You don’t think they really buy all those red carpet dresses to wear once, do you?’

      Ciara did, and also thought it was a bit of a waste when you could do so much more with the money, but she didn’t say that to her friends either. They wouldn’t get it. She was just the poorest point in their triangle who always dressed plain and had such a thick accent when she got worked up that it was hard for anyone to understand her. But she was pretty and funny at times too, so the other girls had taken her under their wings, styled her hair and taught her about make-up and boys.

      More than that though, they’d been there for her when she needed them. More than she could say for her ma who’d walked out on her without saying goodbye.

      ‘Which shops do that?’ she asked.

      Elle slipped her Ray Bans off and leaned over the table. ‘We flash this, and we’re good to go anywhere.’

      The little rectangle of plastic was black, no doubt limitless in its spending potential but she couldn’t take money from her friends. It was bad enough her da had worked fourteen hour days to send her to Oxford and she was done owing people she cared about.

      ‘Elle—’

      ‘Before you start, this is just to wave at the sales assistants so we have their undivided attention. You can give me back the dollars if it makes you feel better.’

      It definitely did.

      Elle hadn’t been kidding. The second she flashed the black credit card at the Louis Vuitton counter she had three sales assistants eager to give her anything she desired. Ciara had even wondered if they’d go out to get her lunch if she asked, but according to Gem and Elle they wouldn’t be eating anything after three in the afternoon so they could look slim and sexy tonight, and by the time they’d got to the shop it was closer to four.

      And after she’d been brought a zillion dresses, stripped and dressed in the middle of the biggest dressing room she’d seen surrounded by her friends, sales people and far too many mirrors, they’d picked the perfect dress – or so Elle and Gem said. Personally, she liked it. It had a high neckline and focused more on the simple slit all the way up her thigh, almost to the right of her belly button. Knickers would be out, but the deep blue looked great with her dark blonde hair, which the sales assistants said had to be put up.

      Gem agreed, planning the perfect style all the way home and now it was 6pm they had mere hours to get ready (which according to Elle, was not enough time). While her friends hectically showered, buffed, fake tanned and buffed again, Ciara snuck off to the kitchen to find something to ease the grumbling in her stomach. She didn’t care if she burst out the dress, she just wanted the starvation pains gone.

      Jackpot. There was cheese, like honest to god full fat cheddar cheese and a loaf of British, thick cut bread. Heaven. Firing the grill up she hunted for a knife and got to work shredding thin slices of cheddar, hoping Gem and Elle didn’t catch her fatty carb on carb pig out.

      When one side of the bread was nice and toasted, she flipped it over, layered on the cheese and slipped it back under the grill.

      ‘So you won’t steal a room but you’ll steal food?’

      She whirled around, her hand over her heart to stop the thumping – like that would work. Ciara just hoped it was shock and a little bit fear rather than think Zack brought this reaction out in her.

      Then something clicked. Elle had barely nibbled on a carrot stick since they’d arrived – there was no way she’d eat bread and cheese when they were hitting the beach in a few days. She dived for the tray, whipping it out before the lovely, orange stuff even managed to bubble.

      ‘This is yours, isn’t it? Sorry.’ She switched off the grill, thinking it was a bit late since she’d already wasted his food.

      He sauntered over to the tray and poked at the cheese on top of the bread.

      ‘It doesn’t look done.’ Zack then switched on the grill and shoved it in. ‘You don’t have to apologise for being human. I’ll bet Elle has you