TRUDIE HEWITT .... porque?

TRUDIE HEWITT??!!

Why?

I gulped down my wine and stared at Cassie, my eyes wide and incredulous.

'Why on earth would someone like Trudie Hewitt be interested in me? Why, for God's sake would she be breaking into my store? What the f**k ... this is not what I want to hear!'

Millie came over to me and put her arms around me and held me tight.

'Maybe there's some mistake' she murmered like a mother to a child, 'maybe it's someone pretending to be her.'

'Let's hope so', said Cassie, ever the diplomat, 'this is some mean, powerful bitch, we really don't want to mess with her unless we really have to.'

'I don't want to mess with her', I said kissing Millie before standing up and going over to pour myself another glass of wine (if ever I NEEDED a drink, it was right now). 'This has nothing to do with me.'

'Evidently it does', Helen looked serious and spoke sense, ' for some reason she's got some sort of axe to grind, we'd better find out what ... and soon.'

Trudie Hewitt, I thought to myself. Rich beyond comprehension, mistress of a global publishing empire and rumoured to be involved in everything from South American drug running to arms trading. Tall, athletic and chain smoking her way around the globe, Trudie had control of the spotlight and could make or break you just for the hell of it.

She had never been particularily interested in me before, although I was a regular on the cover of her trash 'em mag 'Dish it!', but I sort of took that as par for the course when you have a reputation like mine.

I just couldn't get my head around it ... Trudie Hewitt ... what the f**k did she want with me ...?