Free The Heartbreak Cafe by Melissa Hill Page A

Pacific Time
immediately made her worry about the bags she knew had formed under
her eyes. A good excuse as any to wear her sunglasses, despite the
grey mist that was visible through the window.
    To think
that for years she had pictured this moment; her glorious
homecoming, stepping off the plane to meet a swarm of Irish media,
who all wanted to take her picture and shower her with compliments.
She had always pictured herself looking ultra-glamorous but chic 
the way Gwyneth always did when getting off of a plane after ten
hours.
    Now,
looking down at her wrinkled silk Dolce & Gabbana top over
Seven for All Mankind jeans, she wondered how Gwyneth always looked
so pristine and unrumpled. Maybe it had to do with the fact that
she probably flew on a private jet, got actual sleep because the
aircraft had a bed, and was able to shower and change?
    While
Ruth didn’t have the option to do any of those things, being
hungover for the majority of the flight probably didn’t help
either, and Gwyneth likely also never flew anywhere without a team
of stylists. Ruth immediately regretted not bringing Chloe on this
trip, because not only did she miss the constant flattery that her
assistant provided, but her organizational and PR skills too. She
knew that upon arrival she would be met by a driver, but it just
wasn’t the same.
    The
flight attendants were preparing the cabin to be opened and Ruth
started to gather her things. She checked her makeup one more time
in her compact, and made sure that the amount of lipstick she had
on was acceptable. She also noted that tell-tale bags under her
eyes were indeed present. Damn! Ruth put a stick of chewing gum in
her mouth and chewed it intensely for a moment, trying to rid
herself of the dreaded hangover breath. Ugh. Forget her triumphant
homecoming, all Ruth wanted at that moment was to get to the
nearest hotel room and sleep for days. But there would be little
time for rest as the following afternoon she was due at the TV
studios for her long-awaited appearance on the Late Tonight
show.
    Her brain
full of cobwebs, she shook her head and tried to regain that
feeling of excitement that she’d had all week in the run-up to
this, but found it was hard coming.
    Eventually she exited the plane, but instead of descending
the steps movie-star-like to a greeting swarm of media, she was
instead shunted through a narrow passenger gangway tunnel with the
rest of the hordes.
    She
exited the tunnel and made her way through to passport control.
Looking around, she found that quite a lot had changed since the
last time she had been here. The airport looked all shiny and
modern, not too unlike LAX. Where were all the diddly-aye Guinness
and Aran sweater shops? From what she could see they were even
selling MAC here now. OK, so it had been a while since she was last
here, and she knew Ireland had improved somewhat, but hell, was
that a caviar bar?
    She
really hadn’t expected this at all, this glossy, urbane first
glimpse of her home country. She tried to alter the confused
expression on her face and replace it with a carefree smile. After
all, she reminded herself, no matter how sophisticated things
seemed here now, people would still be excited by her visit,
wouldn’t they?
    Best foot
forward and all that…
    Regardless of how miserable she was feeling, Ruth reminded
herself that no one knew about what happened last night, no one
knew about her and Troy so really she’d be better off putting it to
the back of her mind for now and hope that the pill did its thing.
It was her secret and she could deal with anything that she had to
in her own time. So for the moment, why not soak up the platitudes
and the magic of her big moment? She was allowed be happy today;
she was returning home to Ireland as a huge success, would see her
family soon, and would be appearing on the highest rating TV
chat-show tomorrow night so what was there to be glum about? Lifted
by these thoughts, a wave of optimism flooded