Two Weddings and a Fugitive (The Chanel Series Book 4) by Donna Joy Usher

hug.
    ‘Tess,’ Tara called from behind me. ‘I’m so glad you could make it at such short notice.’
    Mum gave Tara a hug then stepped back and looked at her. ‘You look like you just got thoroughly kissed.’
    Tara’s blush said it all. ‘Lil decided she wasn’t up to it.’ Tara looked over at me. ‘So I rang your Mum.’ She pursed her lips, ‘Sorry, I hope that was okay.’
    The woman was unbelievable. It was her wedding and she was worried that she was upsetting me .
    I let out a laugh. ‘A wise woman once told me, the more the merrier.’
    She linked her arm through mine and Mum’s and said, ‘Exactly.’
    The Spa staff were waiting for us. They took us through to a room where we changed into white cotton robes. Then we followed them through to the group treatment room. Eight massage beds were arranged into two rows. We each took one and our little piece of heaven began.
    It started with the massage and finished with a facial. There I was, lying on my back with honey and grated cucumber gooped on my face when I opened an eye to survey the room. Martine was lying next to me and Mum was on her other side.
    All conversation had died about ten minutes into the treatment and now all you could hear was the occasional sigh.
    I was looking across at the other row of ladies, all of them in the same state I was, when a head appeared, staring through the little glass window in the door.
    Overly large head; angry boring eyes; sharp, pointy teeth.
    I inhaled sharply and some cucumber sucked from my lips into the back of my throat. Boris.
    He disappeared so quickly that for a second I thought I had dreamt it. And then the next moment I was hacking and coughing, bent over the side of the table while a piece of cucumber worked its way back out of my oesophagus.
    By the time I recovered, Boris would have been long gone. If he had left. If he wasn’t waiting on the other side of the door.
    ‘Need water,’ I rasped at the lady who had been working me over with her magical hands.
    ‘I’ll be right back.’ She turned to go and I put a hand on her arm.
    ‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘I’ll go. Need to go to the toilet as well.’
    I slipped off the table into my robe and wiped the back of my hand across my face. It came away covered in honey and cucumber. Great. Hopefully, if I ran into Boris he’s be so busy laughing that I’d have time to get my gun.
    Which brought me to my current problem. Boris was between me and my handbag.
    I smiled at the woman and walked as normally as I could towards the door. It was difficult to maintain a normal gait when I really wanted to crouch and scuttle.
    I paused at the door, looking back over my shoulder. The others still lay on their backs, their eyes closed and their faces covered in cucumber. They had no idea that a crazy Russian mobster lurked somewhere in the building.
    That was probably for the best.
    Pulling open the door, I looked through, trying to see if anybody was acting in an abnormal manner. A woman walked through the door on the far side of the room towards me. She tilted her head to the side as she looked at me and said, ‘May I help you?’
    I was guessing if Boris was hiding on the other side, there would have been fewer polite questions and more running and screaming.
    ‘All good.’ I shot her a quick smile.
    She smiled in return so I was guessing my face had moved normally.
    I trotted through that room and turned left towards the change rooms, leaving globs of cucumber in a trail behind me.
    What if Boris was hiding in there? There was only one thing to do. I hit the door at a run, bursting through it and diving into a roll. I came to my feet and spun around.
    A couple of women stood by their lockers, their mouths open as they stared at me. Apart from that the room was clear.
    ‘Parkour,’ I said as a lump of cucumber dripped off my nose onto my chin.
    ‘Very…urrrr…impressive.’ The taller one slammed her locker shut and edged towards the door. Her short,