Career Girls (31 page)

Alone with him, Rowena couldn’t look him in the face. ‘Don’t groupies usually end up down here?’ ‘Yes they do,’ he said.

‘Why don’t you show me what happens to them?’

He came over towards her, twisting a piece of flex in his hands. ‘Do managing directors and groupies fuck in the same way?’ he said, teasing her again. ‘Put your hands up by the crossbeam.’

He lashed her wrists to the ceiling, so she was perched on a case, helpless and aroused before him.

‘That’s tight,’ she protested, tugging futilely at the cable.

Krebs looked her over, all velvet and pearls, her breasts unprotected beneath the fabric, her’arms over her head.

‘You can’t touch me,’ he said. ‘You an’t free yourself. You can’t caress me, you can’t brush my hand away. Do you understand? I can do whatever I like to you. You’re at my mercy.’

‘I know,’ she whispered.

‘Do you like it?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You know I do.’

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For a moment he didn’t move, just stood there looking

her.

She twisted impatiently. ‘Do you want me to beg?’ Krebs reached forward and eased her dress away from shoulders, kissing and licking the collarbone. She moaned, quietly. He unsnapped her bra in a practised movement, freeing her breasts, swollen with lust, the nipples red and erect with longing. As she gasped with pleasure, he to lick slowly round the left aureole, flicking his tongue back and forwards across the peak, which was getting bigger and harder in his mouth.

‘That’s OK,’ he said. ‘Your body is begging for you.’ Then he moved to her right breast, and when she was practically incoherent, he took the whole thing in his mouth and sucked.

She screamed, little rivers of sensation coursing through her to her crotch, which was beating, throbbing with need. She tried to press herself against him but he held her back, smiling.

‘What do you want?’ he whispered. ‘Tell me. Tell me exactly what you want me to do.’

‘I want you to put your cock inside me!’ she gasped. The sound of the band and the screaming fans was all around them; her triumph heightened his every touch. She had never in her wildest dreams thought her body capable of such feelings.

About to burst, he shoved Up her dress and pulled her legs open, freeing himself and thrusting into her, hard, as far as he could go, grinding into her. Krebs had his hands on velvet and warm skin, feeling his woman clench around him like she wanted to milk him dry. Christ, she felt so good. He fucked her even harder. Oh, she was great. She was the best. Look at her bucking and writhing against him, pleading with him not to stop . .

‘I’m gonna come, Rowena,’ he said thickly. She was already there; he looked down and saw her stomach literally convulse beneath him, one, two, three times …

He catled out her name over and over as he came.

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‘It was amazing! I’ve never seen a reaction like that,’ gushed the Music Week reporter to her an hour later, at the glittering post-launch party at the Dorchester. ‘I’ve never felt like that during a concert.’

‘I felt good during that concert too,’ Michael Krebs said, joining them with a glass of champagne for Rowena. She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing; Krebs winked at her.

The reporter looked from one to the other, bewildered. ‘There’s obviously a great friendship between you two,’ he said.

‘Not really,’ Rowena grinned. ‘Michael produces great records, so I just pretend to like him so he’ll keep working with me.’

‘Ha, ha, ha!’ laughed the reporter sycophantically. ‘But would you go on the record as saying you make a great team?’

‘Yes, indeed,’ said Michael.

Tll go on the record too,’ Rowena added, dropping her voice conspiratorially, ‘as saying - ‘

The reporter hastily took out a biro and a scrap of paper. ‘- Atomic Mass are a really, really great band.’ Krebs made a strangled coughing noise.

‘- really great band,’ the reporter wrote earnestly. ‘Excuse us,’ Krebs said, pulling her away to dance.

The hotel ballroom was full of media types, celebrities, musicians and executives from Musica and other record companies. Both Rowena and Michael had networked the place for hours, and finally wanted to relax. The playback had been another huge success; Michael’s laborious, fat productio, n had brought out the be’st in the band, who were fantastic to start offwith, andit looked tonight as if Heat Street might become the bestselling album of his career. Rowena watched, burning with pride, as suit after suit came up to pay homage. She accepted her own tributes with one eye on him, absentmindedly spooned beluga caviar into her mouth while staring at him smiling and shaking hands across the room. Half the other women there were doing the same thing.

24I

Tmjealous,’ she said lightly. She could feel the pressure

of his hands, pulling her closer towards him. She loved the way the black dinner jacket picked out his eyes. ‘All these other girls are looking at you.’

‘Don’t you think I see the guys stripping you with their eyes?’ he smiled. ‘But I know who you want. And I only want you. ‘

What about Debbie? she thought, but didn’t say it.

‘Come over tonight,’ he said, ‘47 Park Street. We’ll take

up where we left off.’

Tll check my diary,’ she said, laughing.

God, I like this woman so much, Krebs thought affectionately, smiling at his friend.

As she was about to leave - ten minutes after Michael-a

rough hand grabbed her shoulder.

‘Rowena,’ said Joe.

She looked at her singer, who was hoarse, sweating and exhausted.

He held out his hand for her to shake. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘For everything.’

‘Oh, Joe,’ she said, clasping it, and her eyes filled with tears.

That night, Michael was tender and gentle with her.

‘I love you,’ said Rowena afterwards, and regretted it instantly.

‘Come on, Rowena, don’t spoil it,’ he said, pulling his jeans back on. ‘You’re not my girlfriend.’

‘What am I, then?’ she asked, astonished.

‘You’re my friend,’ Michael’said breezily. ‘You’re my good friend, who I happen to enjoy having sex with. Debbie and I are absolutely secure in our relationship.’

He said this without a trace of irony.

Topaz organized the funeral. It was merciful that she had something to do, it took her mind off the loneliness and the

lOSS.

Nathan had died instantly, hit by a drunk-driver, cross242

ing the road. He’d been carrying coffee ice cream. When she saw it spattered over his shirt, mixed with dirt and blood, Topaz had felt grief so violent she’d fainted.

They held the service at Mt Hebron Synagogue, his favourite. She drove upfront in a long black limousine and stared out numbly at Fifth Avenue, at the cold sidewalks and crawling traffic. She thought about Nathan the whole time. The synagogue and the roads were jammed with his friends, the ones she knew and dozens she’d never met; a sister, a cousin; all weeping for him and praying for his soul.

Topaz felt her pain as if it were a great stone, physically blocking her breath and the tears that might clean her. She had loved Nathan and felt safe and comforted in his presence; her initial hot sexual crush had mellowed into friendship and alliance over the months. Up until now, she hadn’t realized just how dependent on him she had been. Nathan had made all these friends; real friends, crying because he “was dead. Topaz had companions, her buddies from the office, who’d all come round and been honestly sorry for her. But amongst them all, there was not one real friend. She had not one soul whom she could call on in the night, when she lay awake staring into space.

Nathan Rosen was the only person she’d allowed to truly befriend her since Rowena’s betrayal.

His sister, Miriam, began the eulogy. Topaz crossed herself, and beseeched the Blessed Virgin to intercede for his soul.

‘Thank you again, Miss Rossi,’ Miriam Rosen said, kissing her on the cheek. Tll be thinking of you. You make sure and call me if there’s anything you need.’

‘I will, Miriam,’ said Topaz. ‘Gootbye now. Thank you.’

She shut the door on her and breathed out. That was the last guest gone; now she could clear up the wake and just sit and think. Maybe cry some.

Joc Goldstein cleared his throat.

She jumped and spun round.

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‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He was standing in the kitchen

doorway. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’

‘It’s OK,’ she said.

‘I - I wanted to wait until everyone else had gone,’ he said. ‘I have to say something to you.’

She gestured wearily at the sideboard and tables, covered with plates and glasses. ‘Can it wait until Monday, Joe? I’m really busy.’

‘It’s not that, it’s not work.’ He shifted slightly, uncomfortable. ‘I wanted to apologize to-you. For the record, not

just because Nathan …’ He petered out.

‘I know.’

‘What I said about the two of you was unforgivable. And it wasn’t true. I was just jealous, I guess I felt humiliated when you got Economic. You know Nathan was my mentor; I could see you meant more to him than I did.’

Topaz looked levelly at him. Man, it was really costing him something to come out with this stuff.

‘OK, I accept your apology,’ she said. ‘It’s decent of you to admit it.’

lie nodded curtly, obviously debating with himself whether to say something more, decided against it and walked to the door.

‘You make sure and - ‘

‘- call you if I have any problems, OK, Joe,’ finished Topaz, a shade sarcastically.

lie smiled ruefully at her. ‘You know, I do realize you’re very talented,’ he said, and let himself out.

The phone rang, shatteringly loud in the darkness.

Goldstein glanced wearily at his bedside clock. It was

3.3o a.m. ‘Goldstein,’ he said.

‘Joe?’

‘Topaz, is that you?’ he asked, wide-awake. She was crying so hard he could barely make the words out, but it was her, definitely.

‘Could you come over, please? I can’t be alone…’

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‘I’m on my way, OK? Don’t do anything,’ said Joe, illogically, reaching for his slacks.

She opened the door for him, red-eyed and haggard.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’ ‘It’s OK,’ said Joe. ‘Honestly.’

‘I know it’s pathetic,’ said Topaz, ‘but I don’t have anyone I can call,’ and she started to cry again.

He shut the door and guided her into the kitchen, putting on the kettle.

‘So I’m nobody, right? You never stop,’ he said, and she made a weak attempt at a smile.

‘Grief comes at bad hours for the people who really care,’ he said. ‘You need to mourn him, and not just by yourself. You know what sitting shiva is?’

‘I am a New Yorker,’ said Topaz indignantly, through her tears.

‘Oh, OI˘, Sorry.’ ‘Stop saying sorry.’ ‘OK.’

There was silence for a minute or so.

‘I brought some cheese popcorn over,’ said Joe. ‘I love cheese popcorn.’ ‘Wanna talk about him?’ ‘Yes I do,’ she sobbed.

Joe stayed with her till dawn.

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Nathan Rosen’s death changed a lot of things.

In practical terms, it meant that Topaz lossi, the main beneficiary of his will, became a very rich woman overnight, with a net worth of more than four million dollars. She was also that rarest of creatures in New York, a house owner.

It left a vacant seat on the American Magazines board. Joe Goldstein, in confident possession of his MB A-Topaz had given up on hers due to pressure of work - was determined to occupy it. He mourned his friend and bitterly regretted his behaviour towards him over the Rossi business. But he knew that Rosen was dead, no amount of sorrov˘ could change it. And life-and business - went on.

Joe planned on being on the board by forty and president

by fifty. Gowers wouldn’t stay in the game for ever. He hoped Topaz Rossi would be content to consolidate and build on her three magazines-because he’d annihilate her if she went for this one, and he was beginning to enjoy her company.

Topaz grew up. She took a step back from her work, made time for her friends. She was appalled to discover how little she knew about the people she’d been working with for years. She had dinner with Elise and her husband, and baby-sat for her secretary. Josh Stein, who’d moved from Westside to be art director for US Womam, introduced her to his boyfriend. Socially, she was awkward and stilted, but people made allowances. She began to feel less alone.

She got herself an accountant and a lawyer and a realtor, who sold the house for a huge amount of money. Topaz

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didn’t want to mess up her head any worse, thinking about Nathan promising to be right back. The realtor plunged all the money straight into a new apartment - a fashionable triplex on 5th Avenue, with lots of bare space and natural light.

Topaz spent the better part of half a million dollars redecorating it. It gave her something to do, and it seemed appropriate. After all, she was going to be the youngest board member of a major magazine group in history. She hoped Joe wouldn’t fight on this one; she’d beaten him before and would do it again if she had to, but she was really getting fond of the guy.

Heat Street sold a million records in six months.

Michael Krebs made a fortune offthe deal.

Joshua Oberman succeeded John Watson as the new chairman of Musica.

Rowena et up Luther as a full company. She found a building with a knockdown rent across the park and called it Musica Towers - not exactly Black Rock, but it’d do. She bought five pairs of jeans and twenty Tshirts and stopped caring what she looked like. She was in the office by eight every morning, fine-tuning Oberman’s distribution deals, supervising computer systems and decorators and huge wall-mounted TVs that could blast out MTV and VHI twenty-four hours a day. She stomped about in a cloud of dust and woodshavings, losing her temper. She started hiring, and that was the fun part; there was so much talent going begging it wasn’t true. She hired people like herself, young, clever hustlerswho were also music junkies. Nobody older was going to work for a fledgling company anyway. She did try to recruit a few established names, and failed miserably. It didn’t bother her superiors much, though; young hungry staff were more motivated-and they came cheaper.