Beauty (44 page)

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You will.’ The girls were laden down with shopping bags. Dina hailed a cab for her apartment. ‘Just come with me.’

Once there, she pulled out a fitted dress in red, some hose and a pair of platform pumps, and sent Natalya into the spare bedroom to change.

‘Yes. Wonderful,’ Dina said when she reappeared. The red dress woke her up, clinging beautifully to the slim curves of her body, and the pumps made her look model thin. There was no bag, but Dina figured she could pick up one of those tomorrow. She caught Natalya glancing around, trying to see a mirror. ‘Not yet. The reveal is the whole fun of it.’

The older girl looked doubtful.

‘Just sit on the chair. We’re nearly done, and then I’ll get you a cab back to Brooklyn, OK? And you can take the afternoon off.’

Natalya sighed. ‘Yes, Dina, OK. You not be too long.’

It was quick work. She applied BB cream, two shades mixed together, and highlighted Natalya’s slim cheekbones with a dusting of Bobbi Brown’s Pink Quartz Brick in gold and rose. There was no point going heavy; Natalya was a dark blonde with a fair skin, and natural would always suit her. Dina used the most basic cosmetics: light brown eye shadow from Mac, a single coat of lash-separating Maybelline mascara – drug-store cheap – and a Revlon glittering lip gloss in clear, to give a wet look to her lips.

‘OK. Stand. Come to the mirror,’ she said, taking the girl into her own bedroom, to the full-length French antique that stood there by the bed. ‘This is how you should look.’

Natalya stared at the mirror, as if spellbound. She reached her hands up to her new hair and touched it, gingerly. Then she smoothed down the dress and turned. She walked closer, examining her face.

Then she said something in Russian. And then she burst into tears.

That was the start of their friendship. Natalya became even more confident, stronger. She looked wonderful, and the men on the crew propositioned her, but she said no. Each day, she attended work in a casual, chic outfit, fitted to her body, and experimented with make-up the way Dina instructed her to.

Within a month, she had a boyfriend: a doctor. He was from Texas, working paediatric oncology at Mount Sinai.

‘How did you meet?’

‘At the theatre. I go for my English. He had the next seat. His friend is not coming; she gets called into hospital. I was wearing the red dress,’ Natalya said, happily. ‘He asked me out the next day. And so I like him, very much.’

‘That’s great.’

‘It’s you, Dina. It’s this.’ She gestured at herself. ‘Maybe I’m not so beautiful, like you, but I feel beautiful – for me. It gives me confidence to know I can look this way.’

Dina grinned. ‘Great. That’s exactly what we’re going for.’

‘Confidence makes me happy. And he tells me all the time I am beautiful, but not just this, also brave and clever. He loves my story.’ She giggled, and it was strange to hear that light laughter from Natalya. ‘He even likes the accent. Isn’t that crazy?’

‘Not crazy. I’m glad for you.’

‘I can’t know if we are to get married yet.’ She smiled. ‘But I like being with him, getting to understand him.’

Dina hugged her. ‘Oh, seriously, that’s perfect, Natalya. Take it slow. I’m thrilled for you.’

But there was an ache under the words, because Dina didn’t have anyone, couldn’t have anyone. The mad work of setting this company up was slowing, her days were slowing, and now, when she wanted it least, Dina was thinking about Joel Gaines once again.

There would not be anyone else. And when Natalya talked about her doctor, Jesse, it sent the old longing rushing back through Dina’s veins.

She hadn’t called him, hadn’t been weak. But he hadn’t called her, either.

There was nothing, just silence. No emails, no texts. It was as if none of it had happened, or as if it had happened to someone else, long ago. In another life.

She dreaded the days after the launch. When things settled down, and she had time and space to herself, and Dina Kane, Inc. was growing, but more slowly, then how would she stop thinking about Joel? How would she manage to get a grip on herself?

But, for now, she just hugged her new friend.

Tonight, she was glad to be with Natalya. It had been a very long day. At nine p.m., her deputy forced her to put away her cellphone and stop talking to the beauty bloggers and fashion PRs and editor types who were all due in Times Square at nine a.m. tomorrow; their little space would be full to overflowing. Dina had to parcel out invitations, and that made it better. She now had a b-list of smaller bloggers and magazines, due in an hour later, at ten.

‘Starting small is unfortunate. But you made it into a virtue,’ Natalya said.

Her English was almost perfect now. The two girls chinked glasses.

‘I think it’ll go well.’ Dina shrugged. ‘Scrub that. I know it will.’

‘Your cash on hand is very low. Your apartment is the security?’

‘I’m not worried,’ Dina replied. She took a long, cool drink of the champagne, playing with it, letting the bubbles crackle around her mouth. ‘Dina Kane, Inc. is going to work. We will double our financing within the month.’

Natalya shook her blond head, admiringly. She was wearing a chic little brown dress and comfortable ballet flats in burnt orange: perfect for the coming days of fall, for New York’s warm September. Style was something she was learning, along with her English; she felt accomplished, beautiful – reborn, almost. Dina believed in her, and she was starting to believe in herself again.

Every day, she thanked God for her cousin Piotr, who had brought her to this woman.

‘How can you have such certainty?’

‘The products are good. The design is good.’ Dina drank a little more. ‘I’m good. We’ve worked the insider beauty press relentlessly. It’s a story because of Ludo and Torch, and the products and the store back it up.’

‘They ran a server test on the website. Do you really think you’re going to get all those hits?’

Dina nodded. ‘We have to be ready. If we crash on day one, it will be a disaster.’ She thought for a second of Edward Johnson. ‘And there could be a cyber attack, who knows?’

‘You’ve spent so much on that website.’

‘It matters more than the stores. That’s beauty now, Natalya – global. Somebody could log in in Auckland and get our stuff. We will ship it to Reykjavik. Every girl has a dream; we want to inspire them. Even those who can’t afford it: we want them on that site, playing our videos –’ her eyes lit up – ‘learning how beauty works, the canvas of the face.’

‘But if they can’t afford it—’

‘Maybe one day they will grow up and be able to. Or suddenly get a better job. We want them to sink into beauty with Dina Kane.’ She drank a little more, feeling a sudden rush of pleasure, of triumph. Her dream was here – and she had made it, against all odds, against everything. The launch, the money – it seemed like an afterthought. This was her dream for other women, and it was coming true.

‘I understand.’

‘Beauty was my escape. I want it to be their escape, too.’

Natalya drained her glass. ‘You will be very successful with it, Dina. And I can’t wait to work with you.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I should go; Jesse’s shift is ending. I’d like to be back for him.’

‘Of course.’ The girls hugged. ‘See you tomorrow,’ Dina said. ‘Be there at eight?’

‘Seven thirty,’ Natalya promised her.

She knew she should probably get up and leave, too. But Dina didn’t want to move, not just yet. She was tired, happy, enjoying her champagne.

‘Have a great night.’ She kissed Natalya goodbye, and tipped the glass to her mouth, savouring it. And then she took out her phone. Maybe there were some bloggers she could call, some last minute work she could do . . . just while she finished one more flute of the ice-cold, glittering froth of a wine.

There were no messages on her phone. But there was a text.

From Joel Gaines.

Where are you? We need to talk.

Dina breathed in, hard. Her hand gripped the side of the bar; her head swayed. Carefully, she steadied herself so the others around her – the couples, the businessmen standing around in knots, socialising – wouldn’t see it.

She paused, then tapped out a reply.

I can’t bear it, Joel. Please. It’s a big day for me tomorrow.

His reply came through almost immediately.

Ten minutes, that’s all. Where are you?

Dina took her glass and swallowed a large gulp of the champagne, tossing it quickly down her throat, letting it burn.

She shivered. What if she said no? She would be off her game, thinking about him, obsessing, on one of the most important days of her life. If Joel was here, she had to deal with him. Talk to him now. Get it out of the way.

Tomorrow she needed to concentrate.

He could come to her. She was on Central Park South, right in the heart of Manhattan. Not her apartment, where her bedroom was. Where she might do something stupid.

I just said goodnight to my friend. I was leaving, but I’m in the bar of the Victrix. Call me, or I can wait for you for fifteen minutes.

There was a pause. Dina held her breath, wishing it didn’t matter so much. But it did. She was in suspended animation, staring at the screen.

My garage is a block away. I’ll be with you in five minutes, Dina. Don’t leave.

She texted back
OK
and sat there, sipping slowly. Time passed like treacle. She could not think, could not concentrate, could not act her age. When Joel appeared, would she have any dignity?

Frenzied work had distracted her, but they were close now, almost at the end. She had nothing to hide behind. And her feelings for Joel were beating at her resistance, relentless as the tides.

She was past dignity, maybe. One text from him and her body was on fire. Joel Gaines had only kissed her once. If he wanted more tonight, Dina had no idea how the hell she was going to turn him down.

And then, there he was, walking in through the door from the lobby, paying no attention to the wait staff talking to him. He was moving fast, the hugeness of that body, the spread of his chest, the power of it, striding towards her in his suit, like nothing could stop him; purposeful, intent.

Dina was immediately wet and aroused, absolutely responsive to him. Her body crackled with adrenaline, as though she’d been shocked.

‘Joel,’ she whispered.

She could hardly speak. Joel was right in front of her. His body was close to hers, in her space again. Towering over her. Looking down on her. She trembled; she couldn’t say a word.

‘Dina –’ he grabbed her hand, fiercely – ‘I love you. I’ve loved you for a year, maybe more. I want you. I cannot stop thinking about you. You’re stronger than everything. I have to be with you. That’s it. I have to be.’

Tears sprang to her eyes. ‘But you’re married.’

‘I asked Susan for a divorce. It’s done. I left the house. I told the boys. They’re grown, and I want to be with you.’ He clutched her hands. ‘As soon as the papers come through, we can get married. Yes? Tell me yes.’

The tears brimmed over, running down her cheeks. She swayed where she sat, and Gaines put out an arm to support her. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Yes. Why?’

‘Because I couldn’t take the rest of my life thinking about you, and not seeing you. Wanting you, and not having you. Because I never met a woman like you. Because you are the girl I should have married first. I don’t want a roommate; I want a lover, a friend, a challenge. I want you, and none other. You understand?’

She nodded. ‘Yes.’ Her face was in her hands, sobbing.

‘Let’s go home.’

‘I have to get the check . . .’

Joel gestured to the barman. ‘Put this on my account.’

‘Yes, sir, Mr Gaines.’

The small display of power thrilled Dina. She couldn’t help herself. Her body shuddered at his touch as he slipped her off the stool. The rest of her champagne lay on the counter, but she already felt drunk, almost high.

‘Where shall we go?’ she asked, as they stood at the coat check, and Gaines slipped his hands around her waist, her shoulders, touching her everywhere as he put the garment on her. ‘Your place or mine?’

‘Yours,’ Gaines replied, immediately.

His apartment would need to be cleaned out, all of Susan’s things returned: the framed photos of them together, the detritus of a failed marriage. Dina’s neat, ambitious little place was perfect; she had won it on her own, succeeded on her own. It was small, beautiful, an up-and-comer’s apartment. Everything he’d wanted to be, once, a long while ago. Everything he admired in her.

‘Fine.’ She kissed him, melted into him.

He felt himself stiffen, harden. He had to get her into a taxi. ‘Dina. Not here. Let’s go.’

Edward knew he was drunk. But that was fine, because he had cut it with cocaine – lots of cocaine. It made you see things clearer. He felt big now, confident; he could do exactly as he liked. And mostly what he wanted was to deal with Dina Kane.

Once. For all. Forever.

He’d sent Lena home, and the night housekeeper. And then he’d looked, and read, and drank, and pulled it all close into him. Dina Kane, Inc., the new wave, the next big thing, was launching tomorrow. Times Square. Tickets like gold dust.

Once he got good and drunk, it seemed he had to cut it. That was what the coke was for. It had been a while, but Edward still kept his stash. And, tonight, he needed to use it.

The bad feelings left him; he woke up, became powerful and strong again. Dina Kane, a ten-minute diversion, had derailed his whole life. He saw that clearly now. And, even as he was getting back on track, the bitch was returning from the grave to fucking haunt him.

It was time to be done. To get it over with.

He barely registered what he was doing as he walked upstairs to the bathroom cabinet and took out the Klonopin and the plastic gloves – little cheap plastic gloves, the kind that came with a packet of hair dye. He found a small bottle of whiskey and a long, sharp knife. He had a gun, too, but that was messy, that led to all kinds of annoying things, like splatter patterns on the wall; the FBI worked things out that way. Edward was smarter than them; he had seen the TV shows, all the cop series. He was no fool.