Career Girls (46 page)

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Authors: Louise Bagshawe

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BOOK: Career Girls
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‘Let me tick these points off,’ she said. ‘Number one, despite the fact that the company had me fired in the most ostentatious way, you now want to-make me president.’

‘Spoken to my lawyers,’ said Oberman testily, ‘and you haven’t been convicted of any wrongdoing. Even if Westside kept the tape, it doesn’t prove you did what you said you did. You might have been trying to talkJake out of it. And if the industry thinks it’s weird, so what? Everyone’s read Hit , Men. We are weird. I don’t explain myself to them.’

‘Number two, you expect me to give up Cowhide. Which is totally successful, Josh, and which I own privately.’

‘So sell it. You’ll be rich. And you’ll be the first woman ever to make president of a major and that’s your goddamn lie’s ambition, Gordon, so don’t try and snow me.’

‘Number three, according to you I’ll only have this job for a matter of months, because Mansion Industries are going to take us over and ruin our artists’ careers.’

Joshua Oberman fixed her with a watery eye. ‘Listen up, princess,’ he said. Tve been working at Musica since your morn was a teenager. After my wife died, records were my whole life. I was there for the Rolling Stones and I was there for Led Zeppelin and I was there for Metallica and I was there for Atomic Mass. Now in nineteen seventy-one management, including me, took the company public, and as you may be realizing with Cowhide, that means a lot more money but the loss of your control.’

He paused, shaking his head. ‘Finally, I made chairman. I’m running the whole show now. Took me long enough. Even a year ago, I couldn’t stop you getting fired. But right now I have control of Musica as it stands and I’m not

 

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prepared to give it up without a fight.’

Oberman grabbed his napkin and coughed into it. ‘I’m not a fool, Gordon. I know perfectly well that we may not be able to withstand Mansion Industries. But I also know that you’ve got the best chance of anybody around. Which is why you have to accept this job.’

‘Are you asking me or telling me?’

‘I’m telling you,’ he said.

She nodded, blonde hair lustrous in the morning light. ‘All right, Josh. I can’t promise anything, though.’

The old guy smiled slightly. ‘Admit it, Rowena. You missed it like hell. You want to get back to Zenith and all the rest of it. You want to be dealing with Barbara and the boys again and,’ he added slyly, ‘Michael Krebs.’

‘How is Michael?’ Rowena asked casually.

‘Still married,’ Oberman said mischievously.

‘Josh’ she protested. ‘It wasn’t like that. There was nothing going on. Anyway, I’m engaged to John Metcalf. See?’ She held up her left hand, letting her new sapphire sparkle in the sun.

The old man speared a forkful of omelette and winked at her infuriatingly.

‘Sure, kid,’ he said.

 

Knowing that word would be leaking out around the record business, Rowena got in a cab to JFK the moment she left the Regent. She called John from the first-class cabin and asked him to meet her at the house at six.

This was going to be difficult. How could she tell him that she wasgoing back to Musica Records? It would mean giving up Cowhide, which John.had helped her to build. And it would also mean moving back to New York. John ran Metropolis, he could hardly come with her. Maybe one day she’d be able to engineer a transfer of the company down to LA, or set up another branch there, but at the moment taking this job involved a return to their weekend relationship.

Lots of couples live like that, Rowena reasoned. Plus,.

 

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how many couples both run big companies? It’ll mean that we can get on with our work in the week and enjoy each other on Saturday and Sunday …

‘Champagne, ma’am?’ the steward asked, filling her glass to the brim.

She sipped thoughtfully. But will John see it like that? After all, we’re engaged.

And yet Oberman had been right. Amazing how well the old guy knew her. As soon as he’d offered her the job she’d known she would accept, for all her pretended outrage. She shifted a little in her roomy seat, feeling pure adrenalin pump through her veins. First woman in history to run a major record label! It was her dream come true. She couldn’t deny it. And however mad her boyfriend got, there was no

, way she was walking away from it.

John was waiting for her in the garden when she got home, standing under the orange tree, a glass of iced mineral water in his hand.

Rowena fixed herselfa grapefruit juice and walked out to

join him. After the dirt and cold of Manhattan, the warm fragrant air of the Hollywood hills seemed especially welcoming.

I’m gonna miss this, she decided with a pang of regret.

‘I had lunch with Josh Oberman today. He offered me the presidency of Musica Worldwide, with complete power to run the company. He reckons Mansion Industries is going to try a hostile takeover.’

Metcalf stared at her and Rowena felt her heart sink. His

handsome face had gone tight with anger.

‘Don’t tell me. You accepted.’

‘Yes, I did,’ she replied, trying to sound confident. ‘It’s everything I ever wanted, John. I can’t pass it up.’

‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘So you can be the CEO who

hands it over to Mansion? Don’t you read the Wall Street Journal or Economic Monthly, for Christ’s sake? Conrad Miles can’t be stopped. If he wants Musica, he can buy Musica twenty times over. Meanwhile, you’re prepared to

 

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sacrifice our relationship for the sake of an empty title and a corporation that threw you out on your ass.’

‘It wouldn’t be sacrificing our relationship, darling,’ she pleaded, walking over to him and putting a hand gently on his arm. ‘It’ll just be for a few months until I can open a Los Angeles office… I could fly down here at weekends.’

‘Weekends! Jesus!’ John exclaimed, pushing her away. His blue eyes were icy with fury. Tm not some puppy you

can treat however you want.”

‘That’s not fair.’

‘Isn’t it? After the way you were when they sacked you? Is your memory so short?’ he demanded, cupping her chin in his hand and tilting her face up to his. ‘Rowena, you were a recluse. I had to personally go over to your house and kick your butt. And I took risks for you then. I was the president of Metropolis and you were in the middle of a drugs scandal ‘

‘ - and d’m grateful,’ she interrupted. ‘But that can’t change this! Please try to understand.’

‘Oh, I understand,’ he said savagely. ‘Just like I understood when you were working day and night at Cowhide. When you couldn’t make time for me then, either. Christ, I’m such an idiot. I thought that when you agreed to marry me things might be different.’

He stroked her cheek, but it was a rough, almost desperate caress. ‘Your heart’s a fucking fortress, Rowena, you know that?’ he demanded. ‘I love you. What the hell is it going to take?’

‘I love you too,’ she said, grabbing his hand and pressing it to her skin. ‘That’s why I agreed to marry you.’

‘Is it?’ he asked. ‘Or is it just part of the masterplan?’ ‘John!’

‘Do what you have to do,’ he snarled. ‘Try and remember to book some space in your fucking diary for our wedding,’ and he stormed off into the house.

For a second she stared after him, and then she put down her juice and ran inside.

‘Hey, hey,’ she murmured, putting her arms around him.

 

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‘John. Sweetheart. Please, I’m sorry… I should have asked you first. I swear it’ll only be for a few months. We’ll open an office in LA.’

Metcalf tried to brush her away, but there was just something about the insistent press of her body, the catch in her tone, the scent of her hair. Despite himself, he weakened.

‘It’s OK,’ he said, ‘it’s OK, baby,’ and he scooped her up in his arms, as lightly as if she were a doll, and carried her through to their bedroom, letting her cover his chest with little breathless kisses, tiny butterfly caresses, that drove out his anger and sparked his desire.

He laid her down on the Pratesi sheets, slipping off her jacket, unbuttoning her silk chemise, his thumbs clumsy with excitement as he unhooked the lacy La Perla bra and

, felt his breath catch in this throat at the sight of her pink nipples, half stiffened in anticipation. His left hand slipped up her smooth thigh, a new rush of passion surging through him as it met the delicate wisp of her panties.

‘I can’t do without you for long,’ he murmured, but then her arm snaked round his neck and her hand reached down tcxunzip his pants, and all protest was silenced in another hot kiss, a tangle of clothes, a liquid melting of flesh.

 

‘Oberman? it’s Rowena,’ she said.

Thank Christ we bought a pied—terre in Manhattan, she thought, as she looked round the smart apartment John and she had picked out together last Christmas. It was a light, roomy place on Mercer Street in SoHo, with a huge window Rowena had fallen in love with and a polished wood floor. Neither John nor she had had much time to use it up until now, so her cases sat in an almost empty bedroom, with just one change of clothes for each of them hanging in the closet. A few of her files relating to the various offers she’d had for Cowhide, and her lawyers’ cast-iron employment contract with Musica were strewn over the bed.

‘Good, I’m glad I caught you.’ Oberman’s crabby voice

 

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crackled down the lines. ‘I’ve just spoken to Barbara Lincoln and she has some ideas about the Atomic Mass contract. Like a keyman clause relating to you. Know what that means?’

‘Nice to speak to you too,’ she replied, laughing. ‘And of course I know what it means. iF i leave the company for any reason, their contract would be null and void - they could walk out of Musica and sign to PolyGram. Clive David and Whitney Houston have the same ‘

‘Exactly. It would be a first step in persuading Mansion not to bother,’ the chairman cut in. ‘So be a good girl and hop out to Spain. They’re playing Barcelona.’

‘But I’ve just got into New York this morning.’

‘So take a shower,’ Oberman snapped. ‘You can play with your new office tomorrow.’

‘Well, yes, sir,’ Rowena said, smiling, and put down the phone. Plus ˘a change …

She opened the wardrobe. Thank God for one sensible habit I’ve got into.

She kept a small case of essentials packed and ready to go jeans, white shirt, Nikes, two pairs of panties and bras and a nightgown, along with toiletries and her passport. Next to this case were two smaller ones with extras according to the climate: sweaters for Moscow, sunblock for the Caribbean. She picked the ‘hot’ case and got on the phone to Continental airlines, then booked herself in at the Meridian. Atomic Mass would be playing the Olympic Stadium tomorrow, two nights there and then up to Paris.

At least she’d get to see the lads play Europe. The last time she’d been able to get away to go to one of their concerts had been the night they stormed the Madowlands, New Jersey, at the start of the US leg of the Questionstour. And that was so long ago she didn’t want to think about it.

Rowena faxedJohn a short note, telling him she’d be back in a couple of days, and started to get undressed, deciding on a comfortable Perry Ellis suit for the flight. It Was navy blue, a simple cut that flattered her figure and let her move about easily - perfect airport gear. She kicked off her beautiful,

 

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impractical Italian high heels and went for a smart pair of navy flats, taking nojewellery and snatching her purse from the dresser. She could make up on the way to the plane.

 

Continental Airlines flight I8635 for Spain swung slowly round on its heavy axis and prepared to head down the runway for takeoff.

Rowena Gordon, seated comfortably in first class with a blanket draped across her knees for the long night flight, was deep in thought.

Well, she told herself, you’re the Chief Executive Officer

of Musica Entertainment. The first woman to run a major: label. Congratulations. Not quite what you expected, is it? How long do you think you’ll last?

 


Barcelona slipped by her, neon and beautiful in the darkness. She hadn’t been here for years, she’d forgotten how openly the city was laid out towards the edges, all wide roads and tree-lined spaces Her cab driver, mercifully, did not speak English so she was able to appreciate the winding streets as they tore into the centre of town, hundreds of fly posters lit up by their headlights. She found she was twisting and turning, looking for Atomic Mass spots. There were plenty of them, luckily for Musica Spain. The gig had sold out within hours of being announced five months ago, but that was no excuse not to promote it. If most people in Barcelona that bought records already had a copy of Zenith, they could get Heat Street too. And besides, the Knuckleheads, on as support, needed the exposure.

The Olympic Stadium was an impressive sight, floodlit towers jabbing into the sky. As Rowena stepped out of her limo, the sound of a roaring crowd drifted towards her. She felt a quick, adolescent thrill of excitement. Christ, it had been a long time since she’d seen a band.

She walked up to a security guard, flashed her laminate and was immediately ushered inside the barriers. One of the crew took her up to the production office.

Will Macleod was sitting perched on a table, yelling into a

 

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phone. When he caught sight of Rowena, he shouted, I’ll fookin’ deal with it later,’ and slammed down the receiver.

‘Who the hell are you?’ he barked, obviously unimpressed with the all-access laminate swinging ostentatiously on her T-shirt.

‘I’m Rowena Gordon, president of Musica Records,’ she said hastily. Being mistaken for a groupie or a gatecrasher by this guy looked as though it could cause problems. ‘To see Barbara Lincoln?’ she finished, wondering why it came out as a nervous request.

‘Aye. Well, you’ve missed her,’ growled Macleod. ‘She went back to the hotel. I’m sorry I cannae help, but the boys are onstage - in five minutes,’ he added menacingly.

As if to confirm his words, the sound of SteppenwoWs ‘Born to Be Wild,’ their intro tape, flooded the air at maximum volume. A huge howl of approval tore from the crowd.

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