The Director's Cut by Js Taylor (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud txt) 📕

The woman returns in a few moments with a younger sales assistant. They’re both manhandling an enormous dress bag through the door.

“It’s big,” I say to James, taking in the width and height inside the bag. “I thought you said you liked understated ball gowns?”

“I do,” says James. “I think you’ll find this dress is full of surprises.”

“Es grande,” I explain to the saleswoman with an apologetic smile for excluding her by speaking in English.

“Si,” she agrees, “es necesario.”

Yes. It’s necessary.

She has that twitching smile again. What is going on? Are they dressing me as the world’s biggest prom queen?

I eye the huge bag warily, wondering what on earth could be inside.

James nods for the sales lady to unzip the bag. And she pulls down the opening with a flourish.

To my shock, instead of a dress inside, there’s a face.

I gasp. It’s a person.

What the hell?

Someone has been zipped inside.

Then I realise. It’s Lorna!

I give a loud, delighted shriek, unable to believe what’s just happened.

On either side of the dress bag, the female shop staff are beaming. They were obviously in on it all along.

I dive towards Lorna and throw my arms around her. And in a moment, we are both bouncing up and down and shrieking.

“Lorna!”

My grin threatens to split my face open as I hug her. It’s as much as I can do to take in. Lorna is here, with me, in Barcelona.

“Surprise!” she grins. “Hey, let me out of the bag, Issy! It’s claustrophobic in here.”

I squeal again and hug her tight before letting her fully emerge. We’re both laughing as I help pull her out. And then it registers how hard James must have worked to get her here.

I turn to him in wonder.

“How did you do this? You brought Lorna over here?”

James is grinning. “You’re pleased?”

“I… I am so pleased. How did you do it?”

“It’s less difficult than you think to corral women to take part in a surprise,” he says dryly.

My face hurts from smiling.

He cocks his head a little.

“I thought maybe you could use some female company, since Camilla is gone,” he adds.

How did he know that?

“I… I did. I do,” I say, still smiling ear to ear. I grab Lorna again, shrieking, and we both do a delighted little dance. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Tell me about it,” grins Lorna. “Taking a last minute first class flight. Phew.” She wipes imaginary sweat off her brow. “It was a hardship, I can tell you.”

“But what about your modelling?” I ask, suddenly anxious for her. Lorna has to make castings constantly, or she loses work.

Lorna tips her head towards James.

“Ask Mr Berkeley there,” she says. “He got me a sweet gig out here.”

I turn to him, questioningly.

James shrugs. “We needed extras on the movie,” he says. “Given our recent experience with the paparazzi, I wasn’t comfortable hiring unknowns at short notice. I thought it best to pay a little extra for a professional.”

Lorna grins at me. “Most movies can’t afford models as extras,” she adds, “but Berkeley studios has splashed out for beautiful background people.” She winks at me, and fluffs her afro hair out from where it’s been flattened from the dress bag. “I am way looking forward to movie work. Ex…cit…ing,” she concludes, drawing out the word.

Now I’m looking questioningly at James. Is he blowing big movie budgets just to keep me happy?

“I’d rather pay extra for a known quantity,” he repeats, answering my unspoken question.

Suddenly I don’t care how it was all arranged. I’m just so delighted to see my best friend.

“Thank you,” I say to James. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how happy this makes me.”

“My pleasure,” he says, and I see something dancing in his eyes. “There’s a tapas bar over the street. Perhaps you and Lorna would like to have lunch? Catch up? I’ll come pick you up later. Take you out for the afternoon.”

This day is getting better and better.

“Sure,” I say. “Is that ok with you?” I add, turning to Lorna. I don’t want to leave her alone in some strange city after lunch.

“Oh, don’t you worry about me,” she says, sensing my tone. “I’ve already met some of the crew, and we’re all staying at the same hotel. Come on, let’s get something to eat. I am starved.”

Chapter 7

Lorna and I pull up bar stools inside the tapas bar.

Inside is cosy, and a few regulars have already taken seats. But it’s still early by Spanish standards, and we have the bar mostly to ourselves.

James has already arranged us a tab, leaving instructions and a fistful of euros with the amazed restaurant owner. I was sad to see James go, but happy to have time alone with Lorna.

“What’s the deal with tapas?” she asks, eyeing the counter of prepared meats and cheeses.

“Little dishes,” I answer. “You can get the cold ones straight away from the counter. Hot ones they’ll bring out fresh. You’ll like it,” I add, seeing her uncertainty at being in a foreign place.

“This sure is surreal,” she says, grinning at me. “A few hours ago, I was in London. Now I’m eating Spanish food in Barcelona. That James Berkeley really is something,” she adds.

I smile at her.

“Want me to order?”

“Yeah. Sure. Get me some of that,” she adds, pointing to a plate of cured ham. “Ooo and some of those please.” She’s spotted another tasty looking plate.

“I’ll get a selection,” I reply. Lorna’s always been able to eat what she likes and hardly gain an ounce. She says she envies my curves, but I wouldn’t mind being able to eat like a horse and stay super-skinny like she does.

I order a few house specialities. Small dishes of meats, cheese, and salad. And they’re slid onto the counter in front of us. Then I order a dish of hot squid and cooked sausage.

“Cold beer?” asks Lorna, eyeing the fridge behind the bar.

I glower at her, and she holds her hands up, innocently.

“Alright, alright,” she laughs. “So diabetics