The Hen Night Prophecies: Unlucky in Love

by Jessica Fox

Genres: Women's Fiction; Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

The fourth novel in this addictive series, THE HEN NIGHT PROPHECIES, following the fortunes of five different girls, each given their own puzzling prophecy at a friend's hen night, focuses on Libby, 'A danger to men...' Risk-taker Libby Foster wishes she thought things through more - maybe then she'd avoid being humiliated at work over her reckless romantic attachments. So it's just as well that she's swearing herself off men and escaping to a Thai island to work on location casting for a romance-slash-action film. But is she really such a danger to the opposite sex? A series of bizarre events in the serene beach surroundings have Libby fretting, but could it be she's met her match in Craig, the daredevil martial arts instructor training her cast?

Release date: October 20, 2016

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 290

Sample

Libby Forster could hardly believe her luck. The Jasmine Hotel was so amazing she could have pinched herself. But bruised arms were not a good look when you were wearing a strappy green maxi-dress and glittery sandals.

Libby tucked her long golden hair behind her ears and stepped from the lush green gardens into the bar. Although it was night time, the air was warm and soupy so Libby was pleased to spot her colleagues sitting out on the terrace where it was cooler.

Tom was standing at the bar chatting to a man who Libby recognised as one of the production team from the The Indian Prince and I, the big-budget movie that was the reason they were all here in gorgeous Thailand. Tom caught her eye and smiled warmly. Wow, that man could make her stomach flip like an acrobat! Even though they had been seeing each other for a couple of months, he still had the same effect on her as the first time they kissed. His hawk-like profile and strong forearms were showcased tonight by a streamlined white T-shirt and he looked great.

He didn’t beckon her over. But that was fair enough, Libby thought, as she decided against her usual cider and ordered a cocktail. Tom was here to network and promote the company, not to hang out with her. And he was always most insistent that, when on business time, they kept things strictly professional. Libby was more than happy to go along with this because she was still the newest junior casting agent at Cast Away and she didn’t think that sleeping with the boss was the way to win friends and influence people.

‘Hey, Libby!’ Her fellow agent and friend Kyle called out, waving at her across the bar. ‘We’re over here. Come and join us.’

Ripping her gaze away from Tom, Libby waved back and wove her way through the busy bar towards them. Her heart sank a little when she saw that Hilary was part of the group, wearing her usual expression of someone sucking an acid drop, but she felt a bit more cheered by the presence of Kyle’s girlfriend Janine. Like Libby, Janine was a junior casting agent and they shared the same dry sense of humour. But looks-wise the two girls were polar opposites: Janine being a petite and curvaceous brunette while Libby was a tall, slender blonde. Relationship-wise their lives were in total contrast too: while Libby dated a string of fun but totally unreliable men (she was hoping Tom would be the exception to this rule) Janine had been with Kyle for years and was five months pregnant. ‘How’s it going, hon?’ Libby asked, slipping into the seat beside Janine.

‘Oh, I’m coping,’ she said, shifting uncomfortably. ‘Have you managed to get a glimpse of him yet?’

Him, was Dash Suri, Bollywood legend and total sex god. Libby had nearly combusted with excitement when Tom had let slip that Dash was the leading man in the film. She had had a huge crush on him when she was a teenager and, although she was now a mature and sensible twenty-four, rather than a star-struck fifteen, Libby still felt rather faint that her idol was in such close proximity.

‘Not yet,’ she said, ‘and I have no idea how I’ll manage when I do. He’s so—Janine, are you all right?’ Her friend’s eyes were filling.

‘Kyle’s being a total bastard,’ she replied, a tear trickling down her face. ‘He’s hardly spoken to me. I’m sure it’s because he thinks I’m fat and ugly. He’s probably got someone else on the go.’

Libby glanced across at Kyle who was deep in conversation with some of the cast members. Naturally gregarious, Kyle was always the life and soul of the party, radiating charm and wide-boy confidence wherever he went. He was also desperately ambitious and never missed an opportunity to meet potential new clients.

‘He’s just talking shop, babes,’ Libby reassured her, giving her friend’s hand a squeeze. ‘He adores you. And besides, you’re not fat, you’re a BOGOF. Two for the price of one, which makes you even more gorgeous!’

‘Well, I didn’t realise this was in the bargain. I wish he could puke his guts up and waddle round like a heifer for a while,’ sniffed Janine.

Libby patted her arm sympathetically as her friend went on to list Kyle’s failings: so far tonight he’d commented on Hilary’s high heels when he knew she couldn’t wear them, had thoughtlessly ordered champagne when he knew she couldn’t drink, and now he was ignoring her. It was all paranoid nonsense – Libby knew Kyle loved Janine and was over the moon about the baby – but trying to convince Janine of this was harder than splitting the atom. In the end she just listened patiently, while trying her hardest to stop her thoughts from drifting back to Tom.

Now and again their eyes would meet and his gaze would slip over her body as though he was already peeling off the maxi-dress to reveal the skimpy bronze bikini beneath. Libby felt herself grow so hot and flustered that she had to look away.

Honestly, she thought wryly, Janine doesn’t know how lucky she is! At least her partner acknowledges they’re together. It was fun having a secret relationship with her sexy boss but recently Libby had found herself wondering what life would be like if they were a proper couple. Surely it wouldn’t matter that much? People met at work all the time and coped with being professional. It wasn’t as though she and Tom would spend all day having passionate sex on the boardroom table!

Unfortunately.

No. It was time they came clean. Her relationship with Tom was two months old now and it was getting to the stage where she was having to lie to her colleagues and her sister about what was going on. Things were going to have to change.

‘What’s the matter? Have I said something to upset you?’ Janine was asking, concern written all over her pretty, freckled face. ‘You looked really sad for a minute there.’

Libby ripped her thoughts away from Tom and pasted a smile on to her face.

‘I’m fine. Just thinking about things,’ she hedged.

‘About your mystery man, you mean? It’s OK, I’m not going to ask you to spill the chilli beans,’ Janine promised, holding up her hands. ‘I know how secret you like to keep your love life.’

‘I’d tell you if I could. In fact, I’d love to tell you, but it’s complicated.’

Janine’s hands flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, my God! You’re seeing a married man!’

‘I am not!’ This was one rumour that Libby had to nip in the bud before it flowered. ‘Honestly, I’m not.’

Janine looked doubtful. ‘Whatever you say. Anyway, I thought you said you were staying well away from men after what that psychic told you at your sister’s hen night?’

Janine laughed but Libby groaned. She had tried her best to forget.

‘What was it she said?’ Janine went on, but Libby couldn’t bring herself to repeat it. ‘That’s it: you are a danger to many men!’

‘Don’t worry, she could have got it wrong,’ Janine said, once she saw the panicked look on Libby’s face.

‘Angela’s never wrong,’ replied Libby with a sigh, wishing she could say that the fortune-teller was a charlatan. ‘She was spot on with everything.’

Janine’s brow pleated. ‘Maybe I should ask her what’s going on with Kyle these days.’

Libby opened her mouth to point out that this hardly required the skills of a psychic: Kyle was clearly stressing about the forthcoming promotion which had been internally advertised. Getting that job, he’d told Libby as they’d queued for their luggage, would just about cover the shortfall when Janine went on maternity leave. But, remembering that Kyle had sworn her to secrecy, she shut her mouth. What was it with having to keep secrets lately?

‘I think I’ll go and see her when we get home,’ Janine was thinking aloud now, ‘and maybe I’ll get my runes read, too. You never know, it might help.’

Libby nodded. This was another thing they had in common. Like Janine, she adored all things spiritual and was often to be found with her nose buried in Fate and Fortune magazine, or consulting online tarot spreads. When Janine had given Libby the card for Angela Lambert, the tarot reader she swore by, Libby hadn’t hesitated to book her for Zoe’s hen night.

Janine continued. ‘If she tells you something then it’ll come true. She was spot on about the baby.’

‘She knew all about me, that was for certain,’ Libby agreed. ‘I’d better be really careful. My horoscope in Heat this week says I need to look before I leap.’

The two girls looked at each other, wide eyed.

‘That man of yours had better watch out!’ breathed Janine.

Libby bit her lip. This morning she’d checked her stars online, in the papers and in the five gossip magazines she’d brought with her and she was still none the wiser. Should she stay in or go out? Would she meet a stranger or should she focus on her partner? Were abundant finances winging their way to her or should she listen to Russell Grant and save? Argh! It was all so confusing. If only somebody would come along and tell her exactly what to do.

She sighed. Hiring a fortune-teller for Zoe’s hen night was such a good idea at the time. Zoe had been adamant no strippers would be tolerated and had even vetoed a night out clubbing, opting instead for a quiet night in with a select group of friends. A hen night should be a wild occasion, in Libby’s opinion, a chance to let down your hair and party! But Libby would never want to upset Zoe, so a psychic had seemed like the perfect solution. They’d sink a few bottles of white wine, have their cards read and then giggle about the predictions of tall dark strangers, career changes and bouncing babies.

What could possibly go wrong?

It had been a good plan, Libby told herself firmly; it wasn’t her fault things hadn’t quite worked out as expected. For a start, the fortune-teller had turned up looking more like someone’s nan than a travelling gypsy – all M&S slacks and curly grey perm rather than tasselled skirts and hooped earrings – and her prophecies had been rather odd, too. There were none of the usual generic platitudes, and several of the girls had been rather ashen faced after their individual readings. Zoe had been especially quiet and had refused to discuss what she’d been told, insisting instead that they all concentrated on the nibbles and wine. Only the antics of zany Fern Moss, who flamenco’d a drunken dance with a tray of flaming Sambucas held above her head, had brought a smile back to Zoe’s pale complexion.

Sitting in the hotel bar on this balmy September evening Libby recalled her own reading with Angela. She’d had it done so many times that she hardly needed to be told to shuffle the tarot cards, before cutting them into three piles.

Angela picked up a selection and laid them out on her red tablecloth in the Celtic Cross formation. For a moment she studied them, before shaking her grey head.

‘You have a taste for adventure, lovie, don’t you?’ she asked. ‘You crave excitement and risks.’

‘Mmm,’ Libby had mumbled. This was all true but seeing as she was dressed in Billabong, Quiksilver and Roxy gear it could have just been a lucky guess. Libby was a believer, not a sucker.

‘But no matter how fast you run or how many times you choose to risk your neck, you can never escape one person: you,’ the psychic continued. Looking up, she fixed Libby with a beady stare. ‘You need to accept yourself, my love. You’re different from your sister but equally as valid and cherished. The High Priestess is in the ascendancy of your spread, which means you have the potential to be a very strong woman indeed.’

‘Cool,’ said Libby. ‘Girl Power!’ Then, because Tom had just asked her out, she added, ‘What about the men in my future?’

‘Let’s ask the cards, shall we? Turn the top one over on the left-hand pile.’

Libby did as she was told and flipped one over, her heart plummeting when she saw the blank eyes and sharp scythe of the Grim Reaper.

‘Oh my God, am I going to die?’

Angela laughed. ‘We’re all born to die, my sweetheart, but this card isn’t talking about physical death so don’t look so worried.’

‘Phew.’ Libby giggled nervously, although her heart was still break-dancing somewhere in her chest cavity. ‘I was wondering if I ought to cancel my trip to Snowdonia next weekend.’

She’d cancelled it anyway, just in case.

‘This card is no laughing matter,’ said Angela gently. ‘It’s a warning, my love and a very serious one. You can’t ignore it!’ Her bright eyes searched Libby’s as though looking for the answer. ‘Sweetheart, you are the danger! You are a danger to many men. Take special care in September because that is when I see this all happening.’

Libby gaped at her. ‘Are you sure you haven’t got things the wrong way round? Most of the guys I meet are a danger to me!’

Take Tom for instance; deadly attractive, but her boss. Surely that didn’t bode well?

But Angela had slumped in her seat. Suddenly she looked exhausted, as though dredging up this warning had drained the life from her.

‘I’m sorry, lovie, I can’t tell you any more. I can only pass on what the cards show or what my guides tell me. It might not make sense now but it will become clear in the end. And remember September. Please take the greatest of care in September.’

Well, it’s September now, Libby thought as she sipped her cocktail. Maybe I’ll be a danger to men by breaking their hearts? Then she laughed aloud. She’d hardly break Tom’s heart. If she was totally honest with herself she knew he only picked her up when he had nothing else on. Generally, this suited Libby; no-strings sex with a handsome older man left her free to climb and canoe and party. Although it would be nice if they could stop skulking around – all the secrecy was starting to get her down. Libby knew that Janine was already suspicious. Just lately she was always asking where she was off to whenever she left the office.

‘What are you two whispering about?’ Hilary demanded as, uninvited, she joined them. An empty glass in one hand, a bottle of Moët in the other, and two spots of livid crimson burned in her usually pale face. She clutched the table to steady herself before sliding into the empty seat. ‘So, what’s going on? Which hot guys have you two been eyeing up?’

Oh Lord, Hilly was pissed! Libby was taken aback because the senior agent was a total control freak and always very po-faced when her colleagues overindulged on nights out. Her desk was neat, her record keeping was second to none and her clothes were always perfectly pressed and co-ordinated. The long flight and heat must have been too much for her. Catching Libby’s eye, Janine pulled a face.

‘I need the loo, again,’ Janine said quickly and with great presence of mind. ‘I seem to pee nonstop these days. Yet another joy of being up the duff.’

She rose heavily to her feet, waving away Libby’s offer to escort her and, protesting that she was fine, waddled away through the busy bar.

‘Christ,’ said Hilary once Janine was out of earshot. ‘You’d think that nobody ever had a baby before.’ Sloshing more champagne into her glass, she added, ‘Do you ever think about having kids?’

Libby shook her head. ‘Whoa there! I’m not ready for that yet. My sister and her friends talk about it a lot but they’ve got a few years on me.’

‘Yeah, that stuff can wait a while for me, too. I’m concentrating on my career right now.’ She leaned forward confidingly and winked at Libby. ‘In fact, between you and me, I’m pretty sure Tom’s going to make a big announcement soon.’

In spite of herself Libby was curious. ‘Really? About what exactly?’ She hoped for a second that he could be about to tell the company that they were together.

‘About who’s been chosen for senior partner, of course!’ Hilary rolled her eyes.

‘Oh.’

‘You must know that job’s been under consideration since Mike left?’

Libby did know. From the moment the vacancy had been announced it was all everyone had been talking about.

‘And you think Tom might choose you?’

Hilary nodded. ‘I don’t think. I know he’s going to choose me. And do you know why?’

Libby did not know. Hilary might be good at her job (although the word ‘anal’ did spring to mind) but she totally lacked Kyle’s dynamism and creative flair. Tom would have to be mad to choose Hilly over Kyle but since Hilary was staring at her expectantly she shook her head dutifully.

‘It’s not just because I’m the best at my job,’ Hilary crowed, ‘although obviously I am!’ She leaned forward and dropped her voice conspiratorially. ‘No, the reason why I know I’m definitely getting that promotion is because it’ll mean Tom and I will have to work even more closely together.’

Libby was so lost that even a sat nav wouldn’t have helped. Why on earth would Tom want to work more closely with Hilary?

‘Don’t you get it?’ Hilary asked, draining her glass. ‘My God, I can’t keep it a secret any more, but you must promise not to tell.’ Leaning forward she fixed Libby with a triumphant smile. ‘Tom’s more than just my boss, Libby. Much, mu. . .