Beauty (32 page)

‘I’m so sorry. You know, maybe it’s for the best, Ludo. I was getting kind of uncomfortable working for you and—’

‘No, you weren’t. You never had a problem.’

‘I just – I liked dating.’

‘Liked my money, our restaurants, is what you mean, isn’t it?’ he said, though he knew how dumb that was. She was turning down millions. ‘I hired you; I backed you; I
made
you. I brought you here and you humiliate me like this?’

‘Nobody knows. Nobody’s out here but us.’

Thank God he hadn’t told Susan. ‘You’ll regret this, Dina. You led me on.’

‘Ludo, please. You don’t want to marry somebody you don’t love . . .’

‘How do you know I don’t love you? I had a
life
planned for us. You were going to make the best wedding, decorate our beach house. We’d have children. You were going to be the star at home, just like tonight, Dina.’ He waved at the beach house, Roxana’s glittering party. ‘Why the hell not? Are you seeing somebody else?’

‘I’m not seeing anybody.’

‘Fucking somebody else, then?’

She looked at him, mute in the face of his anger.

‘Ludo, I need more credit for my work. You shouldn’t have told Susan Gaines that you revamped the store. It’s mine. You really need to stop doing press like it’s all yours.’

He pressed his fingers to his temples. The girl was insane, clinically insane. She was walking out on a vast fortune – and now arguing with him over her shitty six-figure job?

‘Is that what this is about? Your job?’

‘It matters to me.’

‘You’re nuts. I don’t believe this. Jesus Christ!’ He looked around, snapped the velvet ring box shut and shoved it back in his pocket. ‘I think maybe you should just go home.’

‘I don’t know where the cottage is.’

Ludo stood up. ‘I meant go to your home. I’m not interested in being around you.’

Dina almost laughed. ‘Ludo, Manhattan is hours away. You brought me here; you have my stuff at your place. You will take me there for the night and you will take me back to Manhattan in the morning.’

‘Or what?’ he snarled.

‘Or I go right back in there and I will make the most horrible scene. And the first person I talk to will be Roxana Felix when I ask her for a spare bedroom and if I can borrow pyjamas.’

He swallowed, hard. It was bitter. Back home, the housekeeper would be waiting with champagne. He had to call her, tell her to get the fuck out and put Dina’s stuff in the smallest guest room.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘And tomorrow the chauffeur will drive you and your case all the way home. And you can start looking for another job. You’re fired.’

Dina laughed. ‘I will sue you.’

‘You don’t have the money and you don’t have a case. Look at your contract: under a year, still. I can terminate you without cause at any time and pay you two months’ salary. And, since you signed off all the documents listing my contribution to Torch, if you start claiming credit, the company will sue you.’

Dina blinked. ‘Ludo – you can’t do that.’

‘I can. I will. It’s done. Go wait at the front of the house while I call the driver.’

When she woke up in the morning, Dina Kane felt like she’d got drunk and had the world’s worst hangover.

Her head was thumping. Her body ached from poor, stressed-out sleep. For a few moments, she was so groggy she didn’t realise where she was.

Then the sound of the sea came faintly in at her window, the small single bed looking out over farmland to the water, and she remembered it all.

She pushed back the covers and sat up in bed. Surely Ludo wouldn’t be this much of an asshole. He wouldn’t fire her, just because she turned him down – she was the key to everything at Torch. It was her job, her life, her everything . . .

Dina shrieked. Ludo Morgan was standing in the doorway of her room, staring down at her.

‘Get dressed,’ he said, contemptuously. ‘You’re leaving in thirty minutes. Or you can walk home.’

She didn’t cry. She showered quickly, hating to be naked in a house with him. And then she pulled on clothes as fast as she could from the half-packed case Ludo had dumped in her bedroom: panties, jeans, last night’s bra and a T-shirt; screw style, anything that could cover her. Frantically, she closed the suitcase and hauled it downstairs, her dress and shoes from last night shoved inside. Ludo had brought her a pair of flip-flops, for the beach; that was what she would travel home in.

‘Enjoy it,’ he said, coldly, as she lugged the heavy case across his flagstone path, laid out over a manicured lawn. ‘It’s the last limousine ride you’ll be getting for a while.’

It was a long drive home. Dina sat and thought for most of it. Who could she call? Her mother? What a joke. She had no one.

Maybe a couple of the girls on the shop floor? But she didn’t want to put them through it. Ludo was their boss, too; they would be risking their jobs by talking with Dina. She felt ill, frantic that she’d been this stupid. Of course, he was right, the little asshole; her contract had a year’s grace period, and they could fire her whenever they liked.

Dina had to go quietly, or Ludo Morgan could make her name mud. She thought of Gaines, of his kiss, of his advice. He was right – goddamn him – he’d seen in a moment what she’d blocked out for months.

And she could call him, if he wasn’t in bed sleeping with his wife.

In the end, there was only one person she could talk to: Johnny. The thought of hearing his voice made her happy, made the tears she’d been suppressing well up and drift down her cheek. Somebody was there who loved her, who would not sell her out. Who wouldn’t fire her. And who, any minute now, she would get to see again. He was coming home.

Tears trickling down her face, Dina dialled the number.

‘Hi. Can you put me through to Johnny Kane’s room?’

‘One moment please.’ Pause. ‘Oh, Mr Kane isn’t with us anymore, I’m afraid.’

‘What? That’s impossible. This is his sister, Dina. He hasn’t been taken back to hospital?’

‘No, ma’am. Mr Kane checked out yesterday, with his friend.’

She dabbed at her face. ‘His friend?’

‘Said he was a friend of Brad’s, or something.’

She relaxed. ‘And Johnny was fine to leave?’

‘He seemed OK, but you know it is up to the patient. We can’t compel them to complete treatment.’

‘I’ve been paying his bills. You can send me the final accounts.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Dina dried her tears. If Brad had sent somebody for Johnny, that was wonderful news. She thought they were all over, all finished. Nothing could welcome her brother back to the world better than Brad taking him back.

Edward looked around the flat, very satisfied with it. It was scummy, cheap – Red Hook in Brooklyn – and right around drug dealer central. It had been rented in cash for him by Olivia Broadwell, his private investigator, using a fake ID; the owner never saw or met him. The furniture was revolting, but they had cleaned it up, tidied it with throws and pillows and put clean, cheap sheets on the bed. The fridge was stocked with food, and there was a rack of wine – screw-top; easy to open. He had cigarettes, lighters and ashtrays, and cold beers in the fridge, along with soft drinks. Nothing too pushy or obvious.

Most importantly, there were the ‘friends’ sitting around: male hookers – gay and gorgeous. They made Edward’s stomach turn; he hated perversion – scorned everybody not like him. He despised Johnny, that weak, detestable fag with the bitch sister. But he loved what these boys were going to do for him. Olivia’s hires; she’d bought them to order: twenty-one through twenty-six, blonds, brunettes, a couple with muscles, mostly smooth-featured pretty guys. There were five of them, all well-paid and known for being discreet.

And following orders.

The orders right now were to show Johnny a
great
time, to party with him and to pretend they were friends with this guy, Brad – just maybe knew him casually – but to talk more about the scene. They’d been instructed not to be found out. Sex – yes; clubs – yes. And as many drugs and as much alcohol as they could take.

Olivia supplied the bonuses: ecstasy, pure coke, high-level heroin – mostly unadulterated. It was on them what they did with it.

‘Hey, here he is!’ one of them said, as Olivia opened the door. She was unrecognisable, dressed as a graduate student, Iona college sweatshirt, beanie on her head, coloured contact lenses. ‘Hey, Johnny! Welcome back. My name’s Mark.’

‘And I’m Joaquin.’

‘David.’

‘Justus. How you doing?’

‘I’m Karl; I don’t really know Brad that well, but what the hell? Welcome home, dude.’

Johnny waved hi, and his eyes lit up. People –
guys
. He looked around at the low-rent apartment like it was paradise.

‘All yours for two months,’ Edward said, breezily. ‘Paid upfront. OK, so, my job’s done. There’s one more thing, though – can you come into the bedroom a second?’

Johnny followed him in there, while the hookers laughed and catcalled.

‘Those boys are incorrigible. Well, look. It’s not much, but Brad wanted you to have a fresh start, not be so dependent on Dina while you think about a job. And remember, the rent’s taken care of.’ He handed Johnny a white envelope, fat with bills. ‘There’s ten grand in there, plus another two grand in twenties. Please don’t contact Brad, though.’ He put on a fake air of concern. ‘Are you sure you’ll be OK with alcohol in the house? We figured, for your friends, not you. And, anyway, you can drink Diet Coke, or moderate it or whatever.’

The sound of beer cans cracking open and young male laughter came from the other room.

‘Of course, you can also tell them to pour it away, but it might be a pretty short party. Up to you.’

Johnny’s eyes looked hunted. He heard the sound of the booze pouring, the boys having fun. ‘I . . . I guess. Like, maybe it’ll be OK. If they drink it all.’

‘Sweet. And now I’ve got to split.’

Johnny nodded. ‘Hey, thanks, man. When do I see you again?’

‘You don’t. Brad’s farewell gift, you know? Better make a clean break of it. Have fun! I think those guys like the look of you.
Sayonara
.’

And Edward left with a wave, closing the door behind him.

He walked down the stairs as fast as he could, scarf pulled up over his face, woollen hat low on his eyes. There was no doubt now. He was happy to bank on Johnny Kane’s weakness.

Nature was tough, and she was going to take her course.

His limousine was heading back to the townhouse when Olivia called.

‘You wanted to be kept updated on Dina Kane.’

She never indulged in pleasantries.

‘Obviously. Go.’

‘She’s been fired. Last night. Word went out at Torch today.’

Edward sat up. ‘You’re kidding me?’

‘Not at all. The rumour is that Ludo Morgan, her boss, dumped her. They were dating, remember?’

‘Of course I fucking remember.’ The only way to get to that bitch had seemed to be through her brother. Morgan was serious about the girl, Olivia had reported; and he was richer than Edward or his father had ever been.

That marriage would have taken her out of his grasp – at least, financially.

‘Well, there was a party in the Hamptons. Some sort of scene. We heard from staff at the beach house that she was flung out and fired. Sources at Torch confirmed it this morning.’

‘Any press release?’

‘All the press has been in Ludo Morgan’s name. She’s just been fired. Their plan seems to be to replace her and move on.’

Edward thought of Johnny. Was he drinking, right now? Smoking something? How long would it take? And she was at home, crying and wailing, dumped and fired. He felt his cock hardening. Revenge at long last.

‘Get something in the gossip columns. Dumped. Scene at fancy party. Trying to pass off Ludo’s work as her own. Pattern with the Meadow cream invented by an old man. No respectable guy should date her.’

Olivia paused. ‘Maybe I can do something on Ludo and the Hamptons, but the other stuff is boring, at least to the press.’

‘Just do what I say,’ Edward repeated. ‘Use your connections.’

‘Very well.’

She hung up.

Edward almost laughed. What a pain in the ass, setting all this shit up, but it was going to be so worth it. The perfect one-two punch. In a moment, in a day, Dina Kane was going to be finished.

‘There’s nothing you can do.’ The lawyer, Marie Costas, was a no-nonsense older woman, and she gave it to Dina straight.

‘That can’t be true.’

‘Get another job.’ Costas sighed. ‘Look, Miss Kane, I’d be happy to represent you, but I’d just be stealing your money. You have no case. A trial period is just that. For the first year, they get to fire you, no cause needed.’

‘Sexual discrimination, though?’

‘You signed the contract; you dated freely; this was an open relationship. In court, I can’t prove you were compelled to do anything.’

‘But they promoted me – gave me five pay rises, all in a few months.’

‘Creative differences? Maybe you argued about how to present the beauty department, it doesn’t matter. That clause means get out of jail free. I’m an employment lawyer and I have to give you the facts.’

Dina’s fist curled around the receiver. ‘I saved his store.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.’

She let out a long, whistling sigh. Johnny was nowhere to be found, Ludo wouldn’t even return her calls, and human resources was sending her stuff back to her apartment in a box.

‘I suppose I will have to find another job,’ she said, slowly. ‘Wow. It’s going to be hard, starting from scratch.’

‘Dina, there’s more bad news.’

‘What else could there be?’ she asked, bitterly.

‘Your next job. It can’t be in beauty, or style. At least, not for two years.’

Dina actually laughed. ‘What? What’s that? Beauty is all I know.’

‘Your contract included a noncompetition clause. You can’t go to work for any other department store, or any existing store in the United States that works in a “competing field”, which they define as retail, beauty or fashion.’

She felt a cold wave of fear wash over her. ‘You have to be kidding me, Marie. How can I support myself?’