by D Latham
The day flew by in a flurry of meetings, culminating in taking a client out for dinner. She was the owner of a publishing company, and was negotiating the purchase of a rival. It was a different experience dealing with a woman, and I liked her enormously. She was meeting the other party the following Tuesday, and we agreed that I would attend with her. Thankfully, it wasn't a late finish, and I was able to get home by 9.30.
The flat felt empty without James, and the only item in the fridge was milk that I'd picked up on my way home from work. I sat in bed, with my laptop open, and googled Ivan. I read his Wikipedia page, and marvelled at the number of companies he controlled. Before I logged off, I clicked on images, to see page upon page of his beautiful face. I also saw the same woman in a lot of the pictures. She was tall, dark haired, and looked Slavic. Clicking on the links, I found out her name was Dascha Meranov, and was the daughter of another Oligarch. There were pictures of the two of them together from 2009 right through to the end of 2012. I studied her face before switching off the laptop, and dozing off.
I was grateful that Friday passed in a blur of busyness, and before I knew it, I was ensconced in Lauren's bar with my workmates, sipping a large glass of cold white wine. "It's been a hell of a week for you, Elle," said Peter, "you must be exhausted. Any plans for the weekend?"
"Out Saturday night to a ball, so tomorrow afternoon I have a hair appointment. That's about it. Nothing planned for Sunday, although I have a bit of paperwork to catch up on. What about you?"
"My girlfriends parents are coming to stay," he said, pulling a face, "is Golding taking you?"
"No, I'm accompanying Ivan. He said it would be good for networking. I'm not seeing Oscar anymore."
"But he instructed us?"
"Yes. That was after I stopped seeing him though."
"Did he instruct us so that he could hang around you?" God you're sharp Peter.
"There's always that possibility."
"So even when you dump them, they still hang around like devoted puppies?" I just smiled. "Jesus Elle, you're like Pearson Hardwick's secret weapon. What with Paul Lassiter making moon eyes too, we'll be roping off an area so they can form a queue soon."
"What's Paul Lassiter got to do with anything?" I frowned.
"There are three billionaires in the tower, Golding, Ivan, and Paul Lassiter, and all three of them are going stupid over you. Plus of course, all three are now Pearson Hardwick clients. Carey has been trying for years to get them signed up, and yet, even when you spit them out, they sign on the dotted line just to get to sniff your skirt. It's impressive."
"Has it occurred to you that they might actually think I'm good at my job? I saved Ivan a shitload of money on two occasions, and I wasn't even aware who Paul was. I don't think it's all about my sex appeal, it could well be my little brain too." I was getting annoyed. Peter was insinuating that I was getting new clients by being female and pretty. "The proof will be whether I can keep these clients happy. If it was just my pretty face, they'll move on to a better lawyer pretty sharpish. None of these people are fools Peter, and you're doing them a disservice assuming that they are."
"Oh, don't get me wrong, I don't think they're fools, not for one moment, I'm just saying that you managed to do what eluded Carey for years, and you made it look effortless. Whatever it is you've got, we need to clone it."
"Maybe the firm should recruit more female lawyers?"
Peter pulled a face, "they're normally more hassle than they're worth. I think we had a couple over the years, but they don't like the workload, or the long hours. They were never at their desks by 7.30 like you, nor did they land any clients. I don't think it's a female thing, although it doesn't hurt to have good looking people. Maybe it's a charisma thing." With that, he went off to get another drink.
I left the bar at ten, and was surprised to see Roger waiting patiently outside. "Mr Porenski asked that I see you home safely," he said, holding open the car door. How did he know I was here?
"Thanks Roger. Did you track my phone to find me?" Roger didn't answer, just pinked up slightly. I decided I needed to have words with Ivan about privacy, before sliding gratefully into the soft seat. My feet were aching from my new shoes, and I was shattered.
Back at the flat, I microwaved my meal for one, and switched on the telly. I flicked mindlessly through the channels, wondering what James was up to. I decided to give him a call.
"Elle! It's great to hear from you. How's everything?"
"Boring without you. How are they treating you out there?"
"Pretty good really. I have a nice apartment, and the team are ok. We're making good progress, although I can't wait to get home and work by myself again. I'd forgotten how much I hate office politics."
I laughed, "you wanna get a taste of mine sometime. Even the men are little divas at my place at times. Did you look at holidays?"
"Yep, I've booked two weeks in Spain. Nice hotel, on the beach, quite a quiet place. I keep meaning to email you the link so you can have a look. We both need some downtime by the sounds of it."
"Great. I honestly can't wait. I've not felt sand between my toes for years. Oh, by the way, did you shave your beard off?" The line went quiet, "James, are you still there?"
"Yes, I'm still here.....yes, I got rid of it."
"Oh take a photo and send it to me."
"Not yet. I'm still getting used to it. Soon."
"Okay. I promise I won't laugh or anything."
"I have no doubt you won't. I need to get on now, someone's waiting for me outside. Great to speak to you. See you soon yeah?"
"Yeah, you too. Bye." I cut the call, and switched the TV off, before flopping into bed. Tomorrow was the big day.
I did my usual workout on Saturday morning, before catching the eight o'clock yoga class. I was showered, dressed and done by half ten. I had an eleven o'clock doctor’s appointment to get to, as I had decided to get a contraceptive shot. The last thing I wanted was a pregnancy to deal with, so it seemed like the best option. On my way back from the doctors, I even managed to stop off at the supermarket and stock up on food. I unpacked the shopping, and fixed a sandwich for lunch. My hair appointment was booked for three, so I had plenty of time to exfoliate, and apply a light tan first, as I wouldn't be able to shower again once my hair was done. Ivan had already text me to say he'd be picking me up at six thirty, as the event started at seven, and we had to get over to the West End.
I sat at the island, and flicked through a hair magazine as I ate my lunch. I had decided on the red dress, and as it wasn't strapless, was trying to decide whether to wear my hair up or down. I took a quick photo of the dress on its hanger to show the stylist, and get his advice. Idly, I wondered if the salon did makeup as well. My musings were interrupted by my phone chirping as a text arrived. It was Ivan enquiring whether I had decided which dress I was wearing. I quickly replied that I'd be wearing the red one. He didn't respond, which puzzled me slightly.
After lunch, I took a long bath, and spent a pleasant hour exfoliating and buffing, applying a hint of golden tan, and carefully applying primer to my face, so my makeup would look good later. I threw on a track suit, and walked over to the salon, which was on the ground floor of the arcade.
My stylist was a delightful little Italian man called Giuseppe, who, on seeing the photo of my dress, declared my hair should be put up in a soft, elegant chignon. As it had been washed that morning, he proceed to roll it up in heated curlers to set it in curls first. I asked about makeup, and another, very gay, Frenchman called Andre was brought over to be introduced. He made a start while my rollers were cooling down, and between the two of them, they worked some powerful magic.
The woman staring back at me in the mirror an hour later would rival any model who had previously graced Ivan's arm. Even in the scruffy track suit, I looked flawless, and sophisticated. I paid my bill, buying the lipstick Andre had used, and tipped them both generously. "Youra man won't know whatsa hit 'im," said Giuseppe, giving me a
little hug.
I even stopped off at La Senza on my way home to pick up a red lace lingerie set. Tonight was very definitely the night. A shiver of excitement ran through me as I headed back to the flat.
I decided not to wear any jewellery other than a pair of small, gold earrings, mainly because I didn't own anything that would do the dress justice. With my hair and face done, all I had to do was put on my dress, underwear and shoes. It would only take five minutes, so I sat and had a coffee, and relaxed with a magazine for half an hour.
Ivan was a little early, I had only just stepped into my shoes, after zipping up my dress. I opened the door, and smiled as he just stood and stared at me. He looked amazing in his tuxedo, although to be fair, so did almost every man on the planet.
"You look stunning Elle, I knew you'd look lovely, but I wasn't prepared for this," he said as he stepped into the flat. He twirled his index finger to indicate that I should turn around. "Beautiful, beyond breathtaking," he said, unable to take his eyes off me. I glowed under his praise, wanting to look my best for him. "I bought you a little something for tonight," he said, handing me a box. I took it over to the island, and opened it. I gasped as a trio of rubies sparkled at me. "I thought something to match your dress would be nice," he said, watching my face.
"They're lovely," I said, taking the necklace out of the box. Ivan stood behind me and did up the clasp. I did notice that his hands were shaking ever so slightly. I quickly took my earrings out, and replaced them with the ruby drops. Checking myself in the hall mirror, I really did look like a billionaire's girlfriend. I grabbed my clutch bag, and keys, and we set off.
Ivan helped me into the Bentley, making sure my dress was tucked in properly before closing the door. He slid into the seat beside me, and grasped my hand, smiling at me. "I really wasn't prepared for how fabulous you look tonight. Every man there will be envious of me having such a beautiful woman on my arm."
"You look pretty damn hot too. There's going to be a lot of envious women too." He leaned over, and kissed my cheek, being careful not to smudge my makeup.
He told me all about the charity on the way over. Apparently they helped children from disadvantaged backgrounds access further education and apprenticeships. "Good cause," I said softly.
"I think so too," he replied, "so tonight we find some nice auction lots, and outbid everyone. Does that sound like fun?"
"Depends what they are. I doubt if a signed football will really go with the decor in your office."
Ivan laughed, "and I doubt if you'd thank me for a signed rugby ball for yours. I'm hopeful we'll find something nice, and I can donate some money to the charity." He grinned. "Now, Elle, we will probably be photographed as we get out of the car. Just smile, and stay next to me. My security will prevent anyone getting too close."
"I wasn't planning on running off. Will security be with us all evening?"
"Oh yes. I don't go anywhere without them."
"Why is that?"
"Business in Russia is done differently to how it's done here. Any wealthy man is in constant danger, more so for Russians. The English settle disputes through the courts, Russians settle disputes with guns, or worse. There's no specific threat against me, so nothing for you to worry about."
"Don't you get fed up with the bodyguards trailing everywhere with you?" I was curious.
"No, I've had them so long that it just feels normal. I get nervous when they're not there."
"They weren't in the woods in Sussex, did that make you edgy?"
"They were there," he said, frowning, "they patrol the perimeter of my land constantly. Unless someone parachutes in, they can't get into the estate."
Our conversation ended as we pulled up at the entrance to the Grosvener. The doors were opened by uniformed attendants, and as soon as I stepped out of the car, the flashbulbs started, blinding me slightly. Within a heartbeat, Ivan was by my side, his arm firmly round my waist, his hand squeezing my hip. I kept my professional smile firmly stuck to my face, as Ivan paused to allow the press to photograph us, voices shouting out for him to tell them who I was. Ivan simply smiled, and remained silent before we turned and walked along the red carpet, and into the venue.
I breathed a sigh of relief that the blinding flashes had stopped. "You ok?" Ivan asked.
"Fine thanks. Glad that's over though, I couldn't see a thing." I still had spots in front of my eyes, but they were clearing. We were shown through to a large reception room, which was already filled with people. Ivan took two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, and handed one to me. I sipped it gratefully, and looked around the room. The women all looked incredibly glamorous, and I was grateful for the dress Ivan had bought for me. I felt comfortable knowing I looked the part. People stood around chatting in groups, seeming to know one another.
"Come, there are some people I'd like you to meet," said Ivan, as he took my arm. As soon as we walked further in, he was accosted by various people who seemed delighted to see him. I was introduced to several CEO's, a few politicians, and two fairly famous actors, all of whom seemed to want to be Ivan's best friend.
I watched carefully as Ivan slipped on a 'public' persona. He was friendly and personable, but seemed to place himself at arms length, projecting a cool detachment to the people around us. It was fascinating to observe.
I was chatting to one of the actors, asking him about his latest role, when I felt Ivan's grip around my waist tighten. I looked up to see Oscar walk in with an impossibly beautiful brunette on his arm. I glanced at Ivan to reassure him that I wasn't bothered, and saw that Ivan was grim faced, and shooting daggers at Oscar. It was at that moment the woman moved into view, and I realised it was Dascha, and Ivan didn’t look at all happy about her being Oscar's date. My stomach sank.
Oscar caught sight of me, and stared blatantly for a moment, before bringing Dascha over to introduce us. I figured the whole thing was a ploy to make me jealous, so instead, I smiled sweetly, and complimented Dascha profusely on her dress.
"Thank you, yours is lovely too," she purred in a heavily accented voice, "Ivan chose it for you no doubt? I can spot his taste a mile away. He always did buy such beautiful gifts." Bitch. I smiled in reply, turning my attention back to the two men. I overheard Ivan growl at Oscar.
"What are you playing at?"
"The same as you. You have a problem?" Replied Oscar quietly, clearly hoping I wouldn't hear them.
"So how did you two meet?" I asked Dascha, keeping my smile going.
"Oh, we've been seeing each other a little while," she said, "did Oscar not mention me? Or do you only discuss business at your meetings? I understand that both Oscar and Ivan are clients of yours. Your company must be pleased you get to know your clients so well."
"We don't discuss personal things at our meetings, purely business. It's probably why Oscar never mentioned he had a beautiful girlfriend." Oscar looked horrified, his attempt to make me jealous was backfiring spectacularly. "By the way, Oscar, did you action the LIBOR reporting?" He looked relieved that I'd changed the subject, and began to tell me in detail the changes that had been made in line with my recommendations. I listened politely, with one ear trained on Ivan and Dascha's conversation. I noticed they had lapsed into Russian, I also caught the flirty tone to her voice, and coquettish body language. Ivan's grip on my waist loosened, and eventually fell away as he became engrossed in his conversation. I stood slightly awkwardly, wondering what to do. I was about to suggest I went home and left them to it, when we were called into the dining room.
Ivan actually walked into the room with Dascha, his hand resting on the small of her back as he guided her in. I followed behind feeling rather dejected, and wondered if I could slip away without anyone noticing. Spotting the ladies room, I ducked in, and locked myself in a stall while I figured out what to do. I felt totally out of my depth, and rather humiliated. I fingered the ruby necklace, and in a moment of clarity, realised I'd been bought and paid for, and as such, could be treated in any way
that Ivan pleased. I made the decision to leave, and in the morning I would ask Roger to return all the items Ivan had bought for me. I just couldn't help feeling that I'd sold my soul to the devil in return for a ruby and a red dress.
After ten minutes, I came out of the stall, and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like a lady. I lifted my chin defiantly, and walked out of the ladies and towards the exit.
Chapter 4
"Where do you think you're going?" Ivan called out, hurrying to catch up with me. "The dining room's the other way."
"I'm getting out of your way, and heading home," I said, "I'll speak to you in the morning." I tried to turn towards the exit, but Ivan grabbed my arm in a vice-like grip.
"Elle, what's got into you? I don't understand why you want to go."
"Ivan, you're not a stupid man. Did you really think you could ignore me to fawn all over your ex, and I wouldn't mind? I might not understand Russian, but I understand flirting. Now I suggest you let me go home, and you can go back in there and spend the rest of the evening with her."
"I don't want her, I want you."
"I'm sorry, I can't do this. Right now I feel bought and paid for, in a dress that you chose, in jewellery that is probably worth what I earn in a year, and that bitch rubbed my nose in it. I just want to go home and take it all off, and be myself again." I fought hard to control the tears that threatened to bubble up inside. I really didn't want to lose control.
"Elle, listen to me, I changed to Russian because I was telling her to behave, and to leave you alone. I told her that I was with you now, and I didn't appreciate her nasty remarks. As for my gifts, there are no strings attached, I bought them because I wanted to make you happy, not because I expected any payback. You are still you, despite how wonderful you look tonight. Please come back inside with me....please."
