A Very Corporate Affair Book 2 (The Corporate Series) (14 page)

 
     "All the better for seeing you, my little insurance policy. Is everything progressing as planned?"

 
     "It is... Andrea Mills is extremely efficient, and everything's in order, and on course to be done by tomorrow."

 
    "Excellent. I would have done it myself, but Ivan positively wore me out last night with his passionate lovemaking. He just couldn't get enough.." She watched for my reaction.
Nice try dozy princess.

 
     "No problem. We have it all under control here." I smiled sweetly at her scowling face.

 
     "Nice dress by the way, did Ivan buy it for you?"
Oh you have no chance pup beater.

 
     "No, he didn't. Glad you like it, it's from Roland Mouret's latest collection. I think Harvey Nichols are selling out fast though, so you need to get in quick. Mind you, all the designers will be queuing up to clothe you now."
Take aim.

 
     "Yes they will. Sadly, Elle, you'll have to carry on finding men to schlep round shops with you."

     "Luckily, I can afford to clothe myself. Benefit of having a good job Dascha. I love not being beholden to a man."
And fire.

  
    She scowled at me, before turning and stalking out of the room. I noticed the security man smirking. I smiled back at him before opening my laptop, and perusing bikinis online.

 
      My next interruption, an hour later, was Andrea, who arrived bearing two cups of tea. I waved the guard out, and she sat down. "What's up?" I asked.

 
      She looked pensive. "Mr Porenski's girlfriend, that's what's up. Do you have any control over her?" I shook my head. "She's asked us to contact all the designers and ask if they want to clothe her. Joan tried to explain that it doesn't work like that, but she won't be told. I gather Joan spoke to someone at McQueen, and they declined straightaway. Behaviour like that could cost us advertisers."

 
     "All I can do is alert Ivan, see if he can curb her enthusiasm. I don't hold out too much hope though."
Bloody glad Ivan will be out of it tomorrow, she'll destroy this place.
I thought to myself.

 
     "Well, see what you can do. Joan needs to protect the advertising revenues, and commanding top designers to clothe her for free wont endear her to anyone, especially with her reputation."

 
     "What have you heard?"

 
     "Just that she's a nasty piece of work, and her father's PR have a job keeping her out of the papers. She's abused her household staff, that type of thing. No designer is going to want to be associated with her."

 
      "I don't envy Joan having to be the one to tell her," I said. Andrea finished her tea, and updated me on progress, before leaving.

 
      I had just ordered a kindle for my holiday, when Ivan came in. "How's it going?"

 
      "Fine. Bored though. Dascha came to say hello, and the HR director's been in to tell me alls fine with the changeover, although Dascha's pissing people off already." Ivan looked quizzical. "Apparently she asked the MD to contact the designers who advertise, and offer them the opportunity to dress her for free. They declined, and Joan's scared to tell her."

 
        Ivan laughed. "I'm not surprised. She's not exactly the darling of the media that she thinks she is. What did she say to you?"

 
       "Just that she was only late because you were shagging her all night. Seeing how bandy her legs were, I couldn't be totally sure she was lying."

 
        "No, they've always been bandy. It's quite pronounced in trousers. You do know she was lying to wind you up don't you?" He looked a bit nervous.

 
        "Oh yes. Don't worry, she won't rattle me. She's way too thick to be a worthy adversary."

 
         Ivan laughed, "Elle, you really are wonderful, you know that? Now, do you have an indication as to what time it will be finished tomorrow? I need to book a press conference, and I need you to prepare a contract giving her the holding company in its entirety."

 
     "Not yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was finished today. Andrea Mills is incredibly efficient. Ranenkiov would adore her. I can do the contract now for you. It won't take long."

 
    "Now tonight. What plans have you made?"

 
    "None yet. I might call Oscar, see what he's up to. Maybe he could come round and watch telly with me. I've been a bit jumpy on my own." Ivan's lips flattened into a thin, grumpy line.

 
     "Come round to mine."

 
     "I'm sorry. I don't think that's a good idea, plus I have laundry and stuff to do. I don't have household staff like you, you know." Ivan probably thought the fairies did my washing, and cleaned my flat.

 
    "Tomorrow night then?"

 
    "Let’s see how this pans out."

 
    I checked the progress of the HR team, and wrote the contract, printing it off, before leaving at five. With just a couple of employment contracts to come back signed, they were almost done. I bade Andrea goodnight, and headed out to the car. Back at the flat, security did a sweep before allowing me inside, and told me they would be stationed just outside the door. I had called Oscar earlier, who had said he was dining out with some politician that evening, but would be home later if I needed him.

 
     I did some laundry and some housework, before heating up a tin of soup that I found in the cupboard. I had stopped for milk and bread on the way home, but my guards had been jumpy, so I didn't have time to get much. I had relaxed a bit, knowing that Dascha needed me to turn up alive the next morning, so that her deal would go through, although Ivan still had good reason to prevent that. I pondered his admission that he was in love with me. I reasoned that it could have been just a ploy to get me to drop my guard, and trust him enough to allow him close enough to kidnap me and stop the deal. I didn't really know him well, and I couldn't place a bet on it. I didn't believe for one moment that he'd kill me.

 
      I was interrupted by my phone ringing, "hi Ivan, what can I do for you?"

 
     "Can I come over? I want to see you." Alarm bells rang in my head.

     "No, not tonight. I'll see you in the morning."

 
     "It's not the same," he purred in his phone sex voice, "it's been a whole week since I last made love to you."

     "Well, it's going to be a week and a day then. If this goes through ok, maybe tomorrow night."
Oh I can dangle carrots too Ivan.
"I'm too jumpy and nervous tonight. Surely you understand?"

      "Can't I change your mind? I could give you an amazing orgasm. That would relax you, help you sleep."
Yeah, that and rohypnol.

      "No. I'll see you in the morning, assuming I'm still in one piece." I clicked off the phone, mentally slapping myself for considering going back to a man that I believed would cheerfully drug and kidnap me.

          I survived the night alone, but slept fitfully, scenarios racing round my head. I skipped the gym, as it was too risky, and couldn't wait to get back there and burn off a bit of tension. I packed my gym bag, hopeful of a session after work. I dressed carefully, wearing an outfit that Oscar had bought me, with wedge heeled shoes, in case I had to do a runner, and placed my laptop and book in my new Chloe handbag, which was also a purchase from Saturdays shopping extravaganza. At eight o'clock, I left the flat, and joined my guards, who had kept watch all night, for the drive over to Hanover Square.

 
       The traffic was appalling, and it seemed like the whole of west London was gridlocked. I asked my driver to find capital radio so we could find out what the holdup was. It turned out to be an accident, which had been attended to by the air ambulance, and had closed a number of roads around the Hammersmith flyover. I mused that it would have been quicker and easier to take the tube.

 
        We made it to Vogue House at about two minutes to nine. My being late would probably have given Ivan a heart attack, so I was glad to finally be there. I signed in, and made my way up to the fourth floor. Andrea greeted me, beaming. She explained that all employment contracts were back, signed, and the whole system was up and running. I went in search of Ivan to give him the good news.

 
      He was in the chairman's office, talking in Russian on the phone. I waited until he had finished, before informing him that the changeover was complete, and everything was ready.

 
     "Good. Press conference is at ten, downstairs in the meeting hall. I'm just hoping Dascha gets her arse in gear, and doesn't arrive an hour late, as she normally does. I told her to be here by nine, so she should be here by ten. I don't want to keep everything waiting. The sooner this is all over, the better, I've got other things to occupy my time." Ivan looked petulant and grumpy, and the little voice in my head told me that maybe, just maybe, it was because I hadn't gone missing last night. I pulled myself together quickly.

 
     "Anything you need me to do?"

     "Just stay at the back of the room. Keep out of her way. As soon as I have made the announcement, I will sign the contract giving her Conde Nast. I will then leave, and you and I meet back at my apartment."

 
     "Ok."

  
    At two minutes to ten, we travelled down to the ground floor. The meeting hall was crammed with press, and there was an air of anticipation in the room as to what was about to be revealed. Ivan didn’t often call press conferences. I tucked myself in at the side of the room. Close enough to get a good view, but unobtrusive, and out of Dascha's line of sight. Ivan arrived to a flurry of camera flashes, and smiled at everyone, before taking a seat at the table. "We are just waiting for Dascha Meranov to arrive before we begin," said Ivan, to groans from the photographers.

 
      "So we'll be waiting a couple of hours then," heckled someone at the back. Ivan just looked amused. He looked relaxed as he chatted to the press as they waited, giving nothing away until Dascha arrived. By quarter past, the press were getting edgy, as they had better things to do than wait for a spoilt woman to show up. The conference was interrupted by Nico bounding up to Ivan, and handing him a piece of paper. Ivan read it, his hand flying up to his face, and a look of horror written all over it. He conferred with Nico for a few minutes, before turning, white faced, to the press.

 
      "It's with great sadness that I have to announce the deaths of both Dascha and her father, Vladimir Meranov in a car accident this morning in Hammersmith. I have just found out myself this moment, so forgive me for not being able to furnish you with any detail, and please respect my privacy to grieve. He stood, and strode out of the room, leaving the press yelling out questions.

 
      I turned to my protection officers, "I guess I don't need you now, but would you drive me back to the docklands please?"

 
      I got texts through from both Oscar and Ivan on the way back. Oscar's just enquired as to whether or not I'd heard the news, and Ivan's instructed me to meet him at his apartment. I headed straight there, and was met at the ground floor by his security, and whisked up in the lift. Ivan came barrelling down the hallway as soon as I walked through the front door. He pulled me into a fierce hug, "Thank god you're alright," he breathed.

 
      "Why wouldn't I be? Is there something else you need to tell me?" I frowned.

 
      "No, nothing. They're dead. Nobody will want to harm you now. I'm just relieved it’s over." I pulled away from him.

 
      "Ivan, is this anything to do with you? I need to know. I won't judge, I just want you to tell me the truth."

 
      "Oh god, no, nothing to do with me. It doesn't even look like it was a hit. Apparently their driver lost control." He looked into my skeptical eyes, "Elle, you have to believe me. I had nothing to do with it. Besides, there were at least five contracts out on Vlad, as far as I know. If it was a Russian hit, they would have shot them getting out of the car, or poisoned them in Vogue house. The mafia are just henchmen, they wouldn't have the wherewithal or skill to stage a car crash."

 
      "So where does this leave you?"

 
      "Nowhere really. Nobody knows about the deal, apart from you, me and Oscar. I didn't even get that contract out of my pocket, so nobody saw it. Did you delete it from your computer after you wrote it?" I nodded.

 
      "Oscar's mum. She knows. She ordered my security."

 
      Ivan smirked. "She's quite a character, calls me Podunky. She's as sharp as a knife, and wouldn't drop Oscar in it. There is possibly another issue though."

      "Go on."

 
     "When we got engaged, Dascha and I both made wills, leaving our estates to each other. I changed mine when we split up. I don't know what she did with hers."

 
      "I see. Who drew it up?"

 
      "Pearson Hardwick. At the head office." Ivan led me into his study, and I sat down before pulling my phone out, and calling Lucy.

 
       "Hi Lucy, it's Elle. I have a strange one for you. Can you look up Dascha Meranov for me. Apparently we wrote her will a few years ago. Can you find out when it was last updated please?"

 
       "Hey babe! Sure, won't take a jiffy. I must come over and see you soon. I want to see if that hunky boyfriend of yours has a twin brother. Hang on.....yup....here it is......last updated 18th June 2011."

 
       "Brilliant," I wrote down the date on the desk pad, "now can you search Vladimir Meranov and see if we hold one for him as well please?"

       "Sure, won't be a mo......here we are.....yup, we have it.....dated 30th November 2012. Have they died then?" I wrote down the second date.

 
      "Yes. This morning in a car crash."

 
      "Oh dear, well I'll get them out of storage, and invite the relevant people in. Speak to you soon, ciao baby."

 
      "Bye Luce." I turned to Ivan, "you heard all that?" He nodded. "Have you found out any of the circumstances of their deaths yet? Who died first, that kind of thing?"

 
       "All we've been able to find out is that Vlad died at the scene, and Dascha died on the way to hospital."

 
      "Are you upset?" Ivan gave me a 'don't be stupid' look.

 
      "No. I'm relieved. Both for you, and the girls. Dascha was the only serious threat I really had. I tend to avoid doing business with Russian gangsters these days." He pulled me into a hug, holding me tight and burying his nose in my hair. "I was so scared Elle. Not much frightens me, but the thought of anything happening to you.....she tortured me, said she'd mutilate you...film you being raped, that kind of thing. I've not slept for a week. I worried you'd run back to Oscar, knowing he'd be able to keep you secure. He was worried about your safety too."

 
      "He was a good friend to me this weekend, apart from scaring me senseless on Friday night by telling me ghost stories during a thunderstorm."

 
     "Hmm, probably thought you'd be too scared to sleep alone, and would have to beg to get in with him. He's a sly devil. I never put anything past him. I'm glad he looked after you so well though. He's a great ally to have, especially in times of trouble."

 
    "So what are you going to do with Conde Nast?"

 
    "Carry on running it. I also have to find out if I'll be taking on any other companies. Depends on Vlad's will really. I may approach your firm about installing you on the board. It would be useful to have my eyes and ears on there."

 
     "I'll speak to Mr Carey when I get back to the office. Find out if that's allowed under my contract."

 
     "Otherwise resign, and I'll double the salary they were paying you."

 
     "No!! Ivan, I won't do it. I won't be beholden to you. I've not fully forgiven you for all this, and I need time to recover from it, and the shock I had with my mum, which you seemed to have forgotten about."

 
    "I'm sorry. I've been so caught up in this I've barely thought about much else. Listen, why don't I take you away somewhere nice this weekend? We can relax, play, and put all this behind us."

 
    "I'll give it some thought, and let you know." We were interrupted by a knock on the door. One of Ivan's security team opened it just enough to let the girls in, before closing it again. Bella and Tania raced over to Ivan, and jumped up at him.

 
     "How's my baby girls?" Ivan crooned, "did you miss daddy today? You did? Paws up who wants their tummy rubbed?" Both dogs immediately rolled onto their backs, and presented their rather fat little tummies to Ivan for fuss. He petted them for a few minutes with a tenderness that was at odds with the hardman gangster image of him that I'd built in my head over the previous few days. "You are the prettiest little girls in the world, yes you are," he cooed, as they both wriggled in delight.

 
      "I wish you talked to me like that." I said. Ivan stopped rubbing, and gaped at me.

 
     "You want your tummy rubbed too?"

 
      I sighed, "no, I just wish I was more sure of you. You dropped a bombshell on me yesterday, and it was only a surprise because most of the time you're either barking orders at me, or talking dirty. A bit like when you scared me by telling me we'd have wild sex, rather than just saying you wanted to make love."

    "Do I actually get anything right?" He looked annoyed.

 
    "Not lately." A thick silence spread between us. "I'm gonna get back to work. I take it I won't need security anymore?"

 
    "Roger will pick you up. Just call him as you're leaving. Can I see you tonight?"

    "I'll let you know." I picked up my handbag and left, heading straight to the office.

 
    Lewis was surprised to see me back. "The job finished early. Their HR director was organised to the point of obsessive. She had it done by nine this morning. Did you see the news this morning?"

    "I did indeed. Quite a coincidence isn't it?" Lewis said.

    "What? Do you think I stuck pins in a doll or something?"

     Lewis laughed, "no, I mean she goes back to Porenski and dies in a car crash. Maybe a jealous ex of hers had his nose out of joint."

 
    "No idea. I did hear that her father had contracts on his head. Do they suspect foul play then?"

 
    "Apparently not. The police statement just says they are performing tests on the driver. Maybe they think he was drunk. Witnesses reported seeing him driving erratically for quite a distance before he lost control and crashed."

 
     "Wonder why they didn't ask him to stop the car then? I would if a driver was that bad." I said. Lewis nodded in agreement. "I'll be in my office if there's anything you need me for." I headed down the corridor. Laura smiled as I walked in. "Any problems?" I asked.

 
      "No, some calls for you to return, but that's all." She handed me a list of callers. "So what was Conde Nast like?"

 
      "Glamorous. All the staff seemed impossibly stylish. The department I was looking at was very well run though. It's why I'm back early."

 
     "Did you know about Ivan's girlfriend?"

     "Yes, I was there during his press conference when he found out. The poor man went white."

 
    "I thought it was you he was with, then she popped up. All very confusing."