Winner Takes All

by Katie Price

  Contents

  About the Book

  About the Author

  Also by Katie Price

  Title Page

  Praise

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Copyright

  About the Book

  Beautiful people and big personalities is the formula for great reality TV, as high-flying producer Jas knows all too well.

  But these days most of the drama in Jas’s life seems to be happening off screen rather than on it. From dealing with daily family conflicts to getting her ex Richard to accept that she’s just not taking him back… Jas needs a break from her own reality.

  Enter Mr Right – a TV show with a winning formula – which Jas has been tasked with producing. What better place to escape her own personal drama than in a lavish villa in the hills of Ibiza? But with twelve gorgeous contestants competing for the love of one perfect man, there is bound to be trouble in paradise.

  It’s Jas’s job to see through the secrets, the backstabbing and lies.

  About the Author

  Katie Price is one of the UK’s top celebrities. She was formerly the glamour model Jordan and is now a bestselling author, successful businesswoman and star of her own reality TV show. In 2015, Katie won Celebrity Big Brother. She is a patron of Vision Charity and currently lives in Sussex with her five children.

  Also available by Katie Price

  Fiction

  Angel

  Crystal

  Angel Uncovered

  Sapphire

  Paradise

  The Come-back Girl

  In the Name of Love

  He’s the One

  Make My Wish Come True

  Playing With Fire

  Non-fiction

  Jordan: A Whole New World

  Jordan: Pushed to the Limit

  You Only Live Once

  Love, Lipstick and Lies

  Reborn

  Praise for Katie Price’s novels:

  ‘A page turner … it is brilliant’ Evening Standard

  ‘The perfect post-modern fairy tale’ Glamour

  ‘Angel is the perfect sexy summer read’ New Woman

  ‘A perfect book for the beach’ Sun

  ‘Glam, glitz, gorgeous people’ Woman

  ‘A real insight into the celebrity world’ OK!

  ‘Brilliantly bitchy’ New!

  ‘Celebrity fans, want the perfect night in? Flick back those hair extensions, pull on the Juicy Couture trackie then join Angel on her rocky ride to WAG central’ Scottish Daily

  ‘Crystal is charming. Gloriously infectious’ Evening Standard

  ‘Passion-filled … an incredibly addictive read’ Heat

  ‘Peppered with cutting asides and a directness you can only imagine coming from Katie Price, it’s a fun, blisteringly paced yet fluffy novel’ Cosmopolitan

  Chapter 1

  December 2017

  Jas collapsed into the back of an Uber, dropping the heavy bouquet and bulging Selfridges bag next to her. Her colleagues really were the best, spoiling her that afternoon with the flowers and lunch before she’d taken the rest of the day off to go shopping. Jas had treated herself to a Burberry eyeshadow palette, Jo Malone candle, Topshop ankle boots and her favourite Tom Ford perfume. It was her birthday, after all.

  She let her eyes close momentarily and her navy-blue Prada heels slip off her feet as the Prius crawled through the bustling streets of Soho. It was the week before Christmas and, although it was only 6.30 p.m., groups of drunken revellers in Santa hats and Christmas jumpers were already laughing and singing. It was peak office Christmas party time. Oxford Street was lit up by twinkling neon lights overhead.

  Jas sighed. She might just have turned twenty-eight, but she felt more like fifty-eight! So far this week she had attended a launch for a major TV show on Monday and a drinks party for its crew on Tuesday. Wednesday was pre-birthday dinner and cocktails with her sisters, Megan and Lila; Thursday night she’d spent clubbing with her old mates from Manchester University, and today, her actual birthday, there’d been lunch with her closest colleagues before she went shopping. Jas was a TV producer in the entertainment division of Channel 6. This week she’d pitched what would be the biggest series of her career yet, a reality TV show called Mr Right, in which a houseful of female contestants would vie for the attention of one lucky man. It would be a dramatic, glamorous and expensive series and Jas was praying she would get the green light to go ahead with it. Her job was her passion and she needed a new project.

  Jas wished she could have rejoined her team after work in the pub for a mulled wine, before going home to her flat in Hackney, East London. Usually she loved a night out, but at this point she could think of nothing better than a long, luxurious bath followed by a weekend under her duvet; phone off, make-up-free and bingeing on Netflix. Yet there was still one more event for her to attend: dinner with her husband Richard.

  Most women would be thrilled at the prospect of going for a romantic, intimate birthday dinner with their husband. Then again, most husbands didn’t stay out all night without their wives and eventually come home reeking of booze and cheap perfume. They’d been living apart for weeks now, Jas in their jointly owned flat and he in a temporary rental in Moorgate, a stone’s throw from where he worked as a City trader. Nevertheless Richard had insisted that he take Jas to a small French restaurant in Islington where they had spent their last few anniversaries, saying this occasion was just as special.

  She yawned and scraped her long, thick blonde hair into a messy bun, trying to muster up some energy but already mentally preparing for bed. Her phone beeped with a Whatsapp message. It was from Richard.

  ‘Hey, babe, just checking you’re on your way?’

  Jas didn’t reply, instead staring out of the window as the car approached Upper Street. Not for the first time that week, she started analysing where it all went wrong.

  For years Jas had ignored their strained relationship, and Richard’s increasingly arrogant and self-centred behaviour. Ignored the fact that they’d taken to sleeping in separate bedrooms months ago and barely touched or spoke to each other unless it was to say something negative. But when she’d seen his phone flashing with messages from another woman, read through their steamy exchanges, no doubt had been left in her mind that he was having an affair. She had thrown him out immediately. This dinner seemed to be his way of attempting to make things up with her, though she wasn’t so sure one expensive meal could fix a broken marriage.

  ‘Le Petit?’ The Uber driver jolted Jas out of her train of thought. ‘We’re here, love.’

  ‘Oh, thanks.’ She slipped her heels back on. Let’s just get this ove
r with, she thought, fantasising about a hot chocolate and her pyjamas. Straight to the main course, no dessert, and you’ll be home in a couple of hours.

  Jas walked into the restaurant and was surprised not to see Richard at their usual table at the front by the window.

  ‘Ms Whiteley?’ asked a pretty maitre d’, somehow knowing instantly who Jas was and what she was here for. ‘Mr Butler is waiting for you at the back of the restaurant.’

  ‘Ah.’ Jas smiled and wound her way through the tables. Still no sign of Richard. The maitre d’ pointed to a red velvet curtain, which Jas presumed led to a room even further back. Weird. She pulled the curtain aside.

  ‘SURPRISE!’

  Jas jumped back, screamed and dropped her bags and flowers to the floor. A huge area was filled with people she’d never seen before: grinning, popping champagne corks and bursting party poppers so confetti rained everywhere. ‘What the … ?’ she started to say.

  ‘Surprise!’ Richard bounced over, planting a kiss on Jas’s gobsmacked face and handing her a glass of champagne. ‘Happy birthday, Jazzy. Sorry for scaring you but, you have to admit, you weren’t expecting this!’

  ‘No shit,’ she hissed at him. ‘You’ve just taken another twenty-eight years off my life. I was so shocked!’ But before he could reply, throngs of strangers were kissing her on the cheek, congratulating her on how beautiful she looked, wishing her happy birthday and laughing that ‘of course, this was all Richard’s idea’.

  Jas smiled at the crowd, not wishing to be rude, but shot a reproachful look at Richard, who simply winked at her then leant in to whisper: ‘You do like it, don’t you?’ He looked so hopeful.

  ‘Well …’ Her voice trailed off. She was feeling a tad guilty and wondering what was so bad about a party being thrown in her honour. She’d sleep when she was dead, right?

  ‘It’s just … I mean … who are all these people?’

  ‘Colleagues. Mates. Friends from work.’ It was typical of Richard to throw Jas a birthday party and invite his friends. He disappeared to circulate.

  Then, thankfully, Jas saw her sisters, Meg and Lila, weaving through the crowd towards her. ‘Thank God. People I actually like. And recognise! I was starting to feel like I’d walked into a parallel universe.’ The three of them embraced in a warm group-hug.

  Jas was the middle sibling. They’d grown up in a close family. Her parents had lived in and around Manchester their entire lives. Lila, the youngest at twenty-five, had recently moved to London too. The last Jas could remember, Lila was living in a warehouse in Seven Sisters and working in a pub in Camden, though she could never keep up with her sister’s escapades.

  As the eldest, Meg was ‘the sensible one’. She ran a boutique in Manchester city centre and was happily married, though loved coming down to London to see her sisters. They’d each inherited their dad’s green eyes and their mum’s blonde hair. Jas’s was long and, although naturally curly, she hit it with GHD straighteners most mornings, while Meg let her curls hang free to her shoulders. Lila’s hair was cut just below her chin in a sleek bob.

  Meg grabbed Jas’s hand. ‘I am so sorry about this. I knew you’d been out all week and just wanted to chill tonight. I’m still recovering from our night on Wednesday so you must be knackered.’

  Then Lila interrupted, ‘But Richard Facebook-messaged us both saying we had to come as it would mean so much to you. And we just figured, if you hated it then at least we’d be here to make you feel better.’

  ‘And,’ Meg continued, ‘he says he has some other big surprise coming up and we couldn’t miss that. So, I drove down and I’m going to crash with you and drive back up north tomorrow.’ It was a given that Jas’s sofa bed would always be offered to her sisters.

  Jas gulped down some champagne. ‘I don’t hate it. It’s just so typical of Richard. I’ve been telling him all week that I need space but he insisted we must talk and, he’s right, we do need to get together at some point … ’ She sighed. ‘A quiet dinner is one thing but throwing me a big party when we’re not even together? It’s weird.’

  Meg and Lila looked awkwardly at each other. They knew the ins and outs of Jas’s marriage and how much she’d put up with from Richard over the years. Jas finding out he was sleeping with another woman was nothing new. He’d cheated on her several times but always managed to win her back. This last time looked like it was the final straw, though.

  ‘Maybe he really is trying to turn over a new leaf ?’ offered Lila, but Jas raised an eyebrow. Her little sister still somewhat idolised her brother-in-law, thinking he was achingly cool with his big-shot City job and access to the most exclusive nightlife. She often stuck up for him, which could be annoying.

  Jas gulped down her champagne. ‘Listen to me, all grumpy. It’s my goddamn’ birthday. And it’s a party! Let’s go get more drinks. And there’s cake, right? There better be cake otherwise I’m outta here!’

  The three sisters giggled and Lila brandished a bottle. ‘Drinks first, cake second, and find-me-a-hot-guy third. Richard works in the City. There must be a handsome, rich, eligible bachelor here somewhere!’

  Be careful what you wish for, thought Jas. When she and Richard fell in love he was the charming, handsome bachelor fancied by everyone at their university. Six years older than Jas, he had taken an extended gap year (paid for by his parents’ bulging bank account) spent drinking his way through Australia. Since his father had then insisted he ‘get back to the real world’, he was finishing a Masters degree in Economics at Manchester while Jas was in her second year of a Media Studies BA when they met. It wasn’t long before he was offered a lucrative job as a trader in the City, complete with a brand-new flat for them to live in until they found their own place. Jas was head over heels in love with him. How could she not be? Richard was charismatic and gorgeous, with ash-blond hair, bright blue eyes and a dazzling smile. Sure, he was a little spoilt, Jas thought at the time, but no one was perfect. When he whisked her off for a surprise weekend to Paris the following year, and proposed in a restaurant overlooking the Eiffel Tower, she accepted instantly.

  Now, four years after that weekend and three years since their lavish wedding, she could barely recognise the man she’d met when they were both students. Working in the cut-throat City of London with its big bonuses, sixteen-hour days on the trading floor, late nights spent in swanky clubs ‘letting off steam’, as he called it, and lavish expense accounts, had turned Richard from sweet and funny to power-hungry and status-obsessed. As Jas looked around the restaurant she wondered how many of these party revellers he was trying to impress. Then she heard the tinkle of a silver spoon tapped against a glass. She looked over to see Richard standing on a chair.

  ‘Everyone, can I have your attention, please?’ he called. ‘First of all, thank you for coming. I know we gave Jas the fright of her life but that’s what birthdays are all about, right?’ Some of his co-workers started cheering at this. Meg, Lila and Jas looked at each other.

  ‘Now, I’ve brought you all here not just to celebrate my beautiful wife’s birthday, but because I want to make an announcement … here … in front of all our friends and loved ones. As you may or may not know, Jasmine and I have had a rocky few months. Marriages are hard. Especially when you have jobs as demanding, time-consuming and competitive as ours.’

  Jas narrowed her eyes. She had no idea where Richard was going with this but she was already cringing. Her sisters aside, she recognised a couple of faces from previous Christmas parties held by the firm Richard worked for. Describing them as loved ones was a stretch.

  ‘But I want everyone to know – and Jazzy, in particular, I want you to know – just how much I love you.’ A few women in the crowd ahhhh-ed at this. ‘And I’ve missed you.’ He stepped off the chair and came towards Jas, taking her hand. ‘I’ve really missed you, babe. And …’ At this, the crowd gasped as Richard knelt down on one knee.

  ‘What are you doing?’ whispered Jas in dismay. He held out a small blue Tiffa
ny box and offered it to her.

  ‘We’ve both made mistakes, Jasmine. Neither of us are perfect. But I want to keep trying. So …’ He opened the box to reveal a shiny set of keys. More gasps from the crowd.

  ‘I’ve bought us a house! Well, I’ve made an offer on a house and it’s been accepted! These aren’t the real keys, of course. But they’re a symbol of our future.’ He sprang up. ‘This is all for you, Jas, so we can be together again!’ He kissed her as the crowd toasted them and cheered.

  ‘Jas, this house is perfect,’ he said, lowering his voice while the guests mostly returned to their own conversations, a few of them still patting Richard on the back and offering him congratulations.

  ‘It’s in Surrey … huge, with a massive garden. It’s totally rundown, of course, and needs a full overhaul. But that’s a project for you! I know you’ve always wanted to do up a house. I’ll keep the flat here, of course, and stay up during the week while you’re decorating. Then I’ll come down for weekends. It’s perfect!’

  Jas was speechless, turning to her sisters who, like her, wore shocked expressions. It took a few moments for her to find her voice. ‘You’ve bought a house?’

  ‘Had an offer accepted, yes. Don’t worry, babe, my bonus covered most of the deposit.’ He winked at her.

  ‘For me to do up? While you stay here?’ She spluttered out the words. ‘Let me get this straight: you live here Monday to Friday, alone, in our flat, while I live, alone, in Surrey, decorating? What about my job? My life, my friends, my family? You do realise Surrey is in the south of England and my family are in the north?’

  ‘I don’t get it. Jazzy, I thought you’d be happy.’

  ‘Happy? Richard, we’re not together. We’re separated!’ Jas shouted the last word so loudly that the crowd quietened, listening in.

  ‘Darling, don’t make a scene.’ Richard laughed, awkwardly, only infuriating Jas further. Just who did he think he was?

  ‘This is nothing to do with what I want. You know this isn’t what I want!’ She looked around the restaurant. ‘Jesus, Richard, I don’t even like French food. In fact, I hate it! You’re the one who insists on coming here every year and not once have you asked me where I’d like to go. And now you just want me out of the way in Surrey’ – she spat out the word – ‘tucked away like a good little wife so you can live the single life in London. This is over, Richard. OVER. I’ve told you so many times. I don’t want to be married any more.’