Career Girls (49 page)

She placed a cool hand on Topaz’s swollen stomach and started to press it gently. After a few seconds she stopped dead still, looked at Topaz, and repeated the process, more slowly.

Joe went white. ‘What’s the matter? Is something wrong with the baby? Is something wrong with Topaz?’

‘Not exactly,’ replied Lisa Martinez. ‘But I think you should have another ultrasound.’

‘Why?’ Topaz asked. A wave of anxiety spread through her. ‘What can you feel?’

‘This reorganization, is it vital?’ the doctor asked her patient.

‘No,’ said Joe.

‘Absolutely,’ said Topaz. ‘There’s no question of me taking time offunless it’s a medical necessity.’

‘No, it’s not a medical necessity. But I do advise you to rest as much as you can and to avoid arguments,’ she added, looking sternly at Joe. ‘You’ll need as much rest as you can get.’

Lisa Martinez smiled at the young couple. ‘Congratulations,’ she said. ‘You’re having twins.’

After her husband had fallen asleep, Topaz Rossi lay quietly on her black silk sheets, staring into space.

She was tired, but she couldn’t stop her mind racing. Twins. Eleanor and Maria.Joe junior and Marco. Eleanor and

Joe.

Connor Miles. No one has.ever stopped him before and the guys want to hand him American on a silver platter. Is having two babies gonna hurt more? Should I cut down? I can’t cut down … Jesus, why now? Gowers won’t like,t, he’ll reckon I’m about to walk out. Maybe he won’t. He’s seen” what we did with Impact … maybe if I could get the data and work from home …

Antitrust. Has to be. I mean, we’re not a small company, we’re not Pitt Group. We can afford Maughan Macaskill … but we need help.

I’m not fucking Superwoman, I’m tired …

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She’s a goddamn bitch …

If I can save the company maybe I could succeed Matt.

wants the job but he’s ready to give in and Gowers hates that attitude.

Why should she help me? She hates me.

Look at the way she jumped at it when she got a second

chance … they need us. Tradeoff. Strictly business … I want to keep my job. I love my work. Can a woman really have it all?

Topaz swung her legs carefully over the side of the bed grabbed her satin robe and padded across to her stu flicking on the Apple. The digits on the radio glowed tz.45

a.m.

She paged through her private addresses file, found

number she was looking for and punched it into the phone i A voice answered, not sleepily. ‘Hello?’ ‘Hello, Rowena,’ said Topaz.

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Rowena Gordon had never been so powerful, celebrated and rich.

She was president of Musica Worldwide, the first woman to hold such high office in the record business. She was one half of a glittering Hollywood couple. She had liquidated her own consultancy for a personal profit of $6,ooo, ooo. She was profiled in Newsweek and Forbes. Her social appearances with John Metcalfwere reported by Marissa Matthews and Liz Smith. o

Rowena Gordon had never been so pressured.

Day and night she found herself struggling to make sense of financial data, company histories, legal defences for her company. Rowena, Sam Nell and a bitter Hans Bauer arranged for as many big acts as possible to include ‘keyman’ provisions in their contracts, making Musica a less attractive target. It was a losing battle. Connor Miles bought parcels of stock wherever he could find them, hiding his interest behind webs of holding companies and fake subsidiaries.

Rowena Gordon had never been so unhappy.

‘What are you thinking about?’ John would ask her after they finished making love, and she would turn aside, kiss him and whisper, ‘Nothing.’

Michael. Michael. Michael.

‘Spain was a mistake.’

Rowena Gordon sat opposite Michael Krebs in the Oak Room at the Plaza, sipping a fine cognac and trying to sound as confident as she looked. She was wearing an Adrienne .

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Vittadini dress in fluid peach chiffon, Stuart mules and a sapphire bracelet, intentionally chosen to match her engagement ring.

Michael wore jeans and a black sweatshirt and

sneakers, and he radiated authority and intensity. She had to use every inch of her self-assurance to prevent her res

to his mere presence showing up in her face.

‘No it wasn’t,’ he said flatly.

Oh, this was hard, Rowena thought. It truly was hard. Michael was fifty now, still with those knockout black eyes, still with that salt-and-pepper hair, still with that mus, torso that paid tribute to a lifetime of taking care of himself. Still, to her - she tried unsuccessfully to suppress thought even as it surfaced - the most desirable man in th world. In terms of classic good looks, Michael couldn’t hold a candle to John Metcalf. She knew that. She’d never, as she!: had with John, had her breath taken away by his pure beauty in certain positions, under certain lights.

But Michael’s sexuality hung about him like perfume. She saw he was staring at her. ‘What is it?’ she demanded.

‘I was thinking how proud you’ve made me,’ Krebs said.

‘Thanks,’ she smiled, angry with herself for being disappointed with that reply.

Come on, Rowena. He never lied to you. He was never a jerk about it. He said straight out that he didn’t love you and never would, he said he was your friend and that was it. He doesn’t want

)OU.

‘And I was thinking how much I want you back,’ he added, not looking at her.

‘Come on, Michael. You really don’t mean that,’ Rowena said calmly.

‘Oh, I really do,’ Krebs said. ‘I really do.’

‘Do you love me?’ Rowena asked, despising herself for her weakness.

Michael battled with himself. It would be so easy just to say yes to that, and then she’d never deny him again.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t love you. But I do want you. I miss

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you around in my life. I miss watching you have those Richter-scale orgasms.’

Tm with somebody else now,’ she said.

‘But you enjoyed it. We had fun together.’

‘We had a lot of fun together,’ she agreed, determined to

stay composed. ‘But now I’m with John.’

‘So what?’ demanded Krebs.

‘What do you mean, so wkat?’ Rowena shot back. ‘So I’m not gonna cheat on him.’

‘You can’t even meet my eyes,’ Michael said, and started to look her over, slowly, a sexual, assessing look.

Rowena could feel his gaze, and blushed scarlet. He was right, she didn’t dare look up.

‘So tell me about John,’ Krebs said conversationally. ‘Is it good, with him?’

‘Yes it is. It’s very good, OK? Enough, Michael. I don’t

want to talk about this with you.’

‘Does he atisfy you?’

‘Yes, he does,’ said Rowena defiantly. He was still looking at her like that. ‘And cut it out.’

‘So look at me,’ Michael said. ‘Come on, Rowena. I mean, your boyfriend satisfies you, so you shouldn’t be afraid to look me in the face.’

She looked up and glanced at him. ‘OK? Now let it go.’ She was so wet and aroused for him. -Jesus. This is killing the.

‘He must be quite a man, if he can satisfy you,’ Michael said, adding mercilessly, ‘so you come for him like you came for me.’

Rowena stared straight ahead of her, stony-faced.

‘That is true, right?’ Michael pressed her. ‘You come as hard for him as you came for me.’

‘Yes!’ Rowena snapped. ‘That’s right. Now shut the luck

Michael put his hand under her chin, and turned her face sharply towards him. His touch on her skin was electric.

‘That’s the second time you*ve lied to me,’ he said. ‘I don’t like it.’

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‘It’s over,’ she said.

‘I could get us a room here, right now,’ Michael said, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘I could take you upstairs and push you across the desk. I could fuck you on your hands and knees, on the floor.’

Rowena looked down at her untouched fruit salad, aware that she was flushing bright red with longing.

Please. You have to let me go,’ she whispered.

‘I will not,’ he said.

‘What do you want?’ she demanded, raising her head and staring him in the face. ‘What do you want of me? I’ve had success and a good relationship without you. Now you want me to come back to you and screw it all up for myself. Why? For what? Isn’t it just sex? Isn’t that what you always said?’

‘You fascinate me,’ he said.

Rowena closed her eyes for a split second. The force of his personality radiated across the table like heat from an open oven.

‘You love me, Michael,’ she said.

‘No.’

,

‘Yes, you do. You love me,’ she said.

Then she stood up and walked out.

Michael. Michael. Michael.

It had become an obsession.

Even as she organized her own wedding, posed for the society photographers and worried herself sick about Musica, his name beat in the back of her mind like a drum. After the blinding, intense, wonderful ecstasy of what had happened to her in Barcelona, she was incapable of shoving him into the background of her mind.

When she’d left New York, she had left him behind her. The combination of failure in business and the sudden awareness of Michael’s wife had been a double whammy that had utterly destroyed her.

Cowhide gave her back her control. Cowhide let her work day and night. It gave her something to fight for. It let

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her forget Michael Krebs, and gave her a little space to grow fond of John, to rediscover pleasure in sex with someone else.

But now she was back in New York, in his city, with his band, working with him every day, and resistance was futile.

She loved him so fiercely it hurt.

She wanted him so much she could scream.

One morning, on the way to work, she had found herself driving miles out of her way, to Turtle Bay where he lived. She’d parked the Mercedes a few yards down the street from the Krebses’ house and just stared at it. It had been six o’clock in the morning, and the tree-lined streets were empty in the predawn darkness.

She had just stared at the front of the house for twenty minutes and then driven away.

She knew it was unhealthy. Dumb, narrow and faithless to her own partner.

Krebs had never even admitted he was having an affair. ‘Just two friends who have great sex,’ he told her.

She’d asked about everything. His brothers. His unemotional parents. High school. College. How he’d lost his virginity. Everything remotely connected with him was endlessly intriguing to her.

Now she began to dream up ridiculous ideas. Like finding where his father had his medical practice and booking an appointment, just to see what David Krebs looked like. Of finding the art gallery where Debbie worked and going to have another look at her.

Rowena did none of these things. She flew out to LA every week, avoided Michael, and worked on the defence of Josh Oberman’s company. At least staying at the top was something she cared about passionately.

Because what can you do when the fairytale goes wrong? When you find the love of your life, and he belongs to someone else?

‘I think we have a problem.’ Hans Bauer’s voice was

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gravelly with concern. , ….

‘No shit, Miss Marple,’ snapped Joshua Oberman. He sat

at the head of the Musica boardroom table, staring down at a photocopy of a letter addressed to Rowena Gordon from Waddington, Edwards & Harris, Mansion Indus lawyers.

Central Park was bathed in the setting sun outside windows, and the rays were reflecting off the 17 trophies hanging all over the walls, so that at certain angle Rowena was dazzled. She lovedthis time of day; Perdita’s Holding Out sparkling gold across the mahogany floors, Black Ice’s Cry Wolf and Run silver, and the huge Atomic Mass displays for Heat and Zenith glittering light back from twenty platinum disc

‘We’ve got a bunch of fucking problems. Like

fucking company’s going up in smoke. Jesus Christ, I’m gonna have to sit here and watch while it slips into the hands of a bunch of fucking accountants,’ Oberman cursed. He

looked older and greyer than Rowena had ever seen him. ‘There has to be something we can do,’ she muttered. Actually, I don’t think there is,’ said Hans Bauer, ,sounding almost pleased about it. ‘The terms of this letter: are clear. If we keep on spinning keyman clauses into our artists’ contracts, they’re going to sue for dilution of assets. They own shares, so they have every right to do it. And our lawyers think they will win.’

‘They won’t win over Atomic Mass,’ Rowena said, with some sharpness. ‘I found them, I’ve been their manager’s closest friend for years and I’ve been involved in every aspect of their career, production and touring included. If Musica wanted me back, I can legitimately say I demanded a keyman clause.’

‘You might be right. But the case could take years. They could put an injunction on the release of their third album,’

Maurice LeBec pointed out. ‘We have clout.’ ‘Mansion has more.’

‘Then we should have more! Why do they want a record

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company, Maurice? Who else are they targeting? Can we get some kind of common defence?’ Rowena demanded.

Jesus Christ! Like these jerks give a damn about the artists!

They’ve all got stock and they want to be rich. Well, fuck that, I justgot here, she thought furiously.

‘It’s a good point. We know Connor Miles is South African,’ Oberman interjected. ‘There are laws about foreign nationals owning media companies.’

‘Communications media. Not records,’ said Jakob van Rees.

‘So we buy a fucking radio station. We buy three,’ shrugged Rowena.

‘They’ll sue,’ objected LeBec.

‘Who are the other targets, Hans? Didn’t you tell me there were others?’Josh asked.

The senior executive group president, Finance, gave a petulant shrug. ‘Prime Radio in California. Four or five small print companies, a daily newspaper in Chicago and American Magazines.’