by Carrie Duffy
But Alyson was up for the challenge. Naturally, it was stressful as hell, but she put her head down and got on with it – reading, learning, doing. It was a joy to finally be working for herself, to be able to channel her natural focus and dedication into her own company. Her work was no longer simply looking pretty and saying nothing, while everyone else around her got to have input and an opinion; now she was able to use her brain, stretching herself to solve problems and create solutions. It was everything Alyson had loved at Rochefort Champagne, but fifty times more challenging – and without the sleazy boss.
She was aware that Aidan was still pursuing his idea of acquiring some of Philippe’s properties. Alyson hadn’t asked him too much about it – she was still uneasy about mentioning Philippe’s name, and she was aware that the negotiations were complex and confidential. Aidan hadn’t wanted to reveal his identity, concluding – probably rightly – that Philippe wouldn’t sell if he knew who the buyer was, so the whole deal was shrouded in secrecy.
In the meantime, all Alyson could do was work hard on Kennedy’s Dubai and offer her support in that way. She’d promised Aidan she could do it, and she didn’t want to let him down. Hell, she didn’t want to let herself down. Kennedy’s was her first client, the first commission Dante Consulting had taken on, and that was why she couldn’t let her feelings for Aidan get in the way of her work. It would be completely unprofessional. And she did have feelings for him: she’d admitted that to herself now.
At night, when she closed her eyes, she could see his face; she longed to reach out and touch him, to trail her fingers over the soft skin of his cheeks, or run her hands through his hair and pull him close. Her dreams were full of him. She would wake up alone in her hotel room, her skin drenched in sweat, her heart racing – and it wasn’t just the Gulf heat that was having that effect on her body. She wanted him, badly. It was more than just some silly crush – she was no longer the naïve young girl she’d been with Philippe. She’d known Aidan for a long time, and the realization had hit her suddenly, out of the blue: she was falling for him, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Oh, she would be crazy to act on it, she knew that well enough. There were a million reasons why it wouldn’t be right, and Alyson could list every one. He was her client, they had to keep their relationship professional, they had a complicated history … But the more time she spent around him, the more she was inspired by him. His attitude fired her up, his enthusiasm motivating her to make a success of Dante Consulting. As long as she could channel all her passion into her business, hopefully that would be enough. Then she could throw herself into her career and repress all unprofessional thoughts and forget about Aidan.
Yeah right, she thought in despair. Who was she kidding?
But she had to try, so she attempted to smother her feelings and fill the gaping void inside by burying herself in her work. Luckily for her, there was never a shortage of that.
The clock was ticking to opening night, just over a week away now. A spectacular party had been planned, with fireworks, belly dancers, circus performers and all manner of extravagant entertainment. The guest list was high profile and exclusive – an eclectic mix of Arab sheikhs, Russian oligarchs, British footballers and their wives, as well as a handful of journalists and bloggers to help spread the word that Kennedy’s was the place to be. Alyson had been working with a PR firm to get the word out there and help create a buzz in the press, both at home and abroad.
She was trying hard not to become the story herself. Naturally, the PR company were pushing Aidan as the face of the venture, and planning to do a lot of press with him personally, but when they found out that Alyson was somehow involved – Ally, the former supermodel who’d dropped off the radar – they were intrigued. What was the story there? Alyson explained briefly that they’d known each other way back when; had worked together in Paris before either of them had attained the dizzy heights they were at now.
The story was too good to resist. Alyson hadn’t wanted to take part, but Dana, the pushy PR guru she’d hired, persuaded her it was a great angle. Alyson reluctantly agreed; if it helped make Kennedy’s a success, who was she to argue? And so they’d invited journalists to Aidan’s suite at the Madinat and done a series of interviews together.
A couple of reporters seemed more interested in their private lives.
‘Your friendship goes back a long way, and you obviously have a great chemistry – has there ever been anything more than a working relationship between the two of you?’ asked Anna Jones from Dubai Living, the British expat magazine.
Alyson froze, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on a spot on the floor, terrified that her feelings would be betrayed. Aidan smiled easily. He was great at dealing with the press: charismatic, warm and just a little flirtatious. The Irish charm surfaced easily, and he had an assured, laid-back air. It was what had made him so popular, as both a boss and a landlord, back at Chez Paddy.
‘As you said, Alyson and I have a great working relationship, and we’re good friends, but that’s as far as it goes.’
‘No mixing business with pleasure then?’ Anna pressed, thinking she wouldn’t mind a little pleasure-seeking with the eligible Aidan Kennedy.
‘Exactly,’ Aidan grinned at her.
Anna simpered and giggled, uncrossing then recrossing her long legs in a flirtatious gesture. Unlike Alyson, who favoured concealing trouser suits, Anna was flouting convention in a short skirt.
Alyson smiled weakly to back him up, but the words were like a knife in her heart. Aidan couldn’t have put it any more plainly – they were just friends, nothing more, and she’d been stupid to ever think they might be. She blamed it on Dubai itself; on getting swept up in the magic and unreality of the place, just as she’d feared when she’d first arrived. It didn’t help that she spent night after night out here alone, and it was so long since she’d been with a man. Aidan probably had a different girl every night, she thought, killing herself at the thought. Women flocked to rich, handsome men like him – she’d seen it with Philippe.
‘Miss Wakefield, the cutlery’s arrived. Where should I put it? Miss Wakefield?’
With a start, Alyson realized one of the workmen was trying to speak to her.
‘Oh … put it over there,’ she gestured vaguely, feeling flustered.
‘Daydreaming on the job?’ said a voice behind her.
‘Aidan!’ Alyson whirled round. Damn, he looked so handsome in a light-grey suit, the collar of his shirt unbuttoned due to the heat. She was completely thrown, suddenly horribly embarrassed that he should see her with her hair a mess, no make-up, and a scruffy old suit that she’d put on to work in the dusty environment. She’d planned to go back to her room and change before he arrived. ‘I didn’t expect you until later.’
‘I like to keep you on your toes,’ Aidan grinned. ‘Nah, I finished up a little earlier than I expected in London so I took the earlier flight. How’s everything going?’
‘We’re getting there,’ Alyson assured him, trying to sound calm and in control, and not as though the guy she wanted most in the world was standing just inches away from her, looking the hottest she’d ever seen him.
‘It’s changed so much since the last time I was here.’ Aidan looked round admiringly. ‘It’s really taking shape.’
‘I hoped we’d have everything in place by the time you arrived, but you’ve beaten me to it.’ Alyson’s voice revealed a trace of disappointment – she’d wanted everything to be perfect for him so he could see how hard she’d worked.
‘That doesn’t matter. It looks great,’ Aidan assured her.
Alyson walked him round the space, filling him in on the changes that had taken place. Nothing to do with the fact that while she was talking shop she could try and ignore the way her heart was thumping wildly, the way her stomach was tying itself in knots. Even though he’d taken her completely unawares, she was thrilled he was here. Just being around him made her feel happier, giddy like a child. S
he wanted to grin ridiculously.
‘Okay, time for a break, Miss Wakefield,’ said Aidan, when he’d seen the whole property. ‘I’m taking you out to lunch.’
Alyson hesitated. She was reluctant to leave, even for an hour or so, as they had a tight schedule to keep to. And it was more than that – she was scared to be alone with Aidan, unable to trust her feelings around him.
‘They can spare you for an hour,’ Aidan insisted. ‘And I promise we’ll only talk about work so you won’t feel guilty being away.’
Alyson smiled. It was so easy to give in to him. ‘Okay,’ she agreed. ‘Let’s go.’
Ten minutes later, they were seated in a casual little restaurant in the souk, an Asian-fusion place and one of their favourites. It was mid-afternoon and the place was dead, the lunchtime rush having been and gone. Aidan was glad they were alone. He didn’t want anything to distract him from Alyson.
The truth was that he’d taken the earlier flight because he was missing her so badly. He knew it was crazy, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on his work while he’d been in Dublin, so he’d flown to London, hoping that being there might bring him some focus. It was worse than ever. Since Alyson had stayed with him, everything reminded Aidan of her. His apartment seemed empty without her there, and when he went into Kennedy’s, all he could think about was the night they’d been there together. He could almost picture the way she’d sipped from her water glass, the way she’d taken a delicate bite of her asparagus or how her cheeks flushed when she’d had a glass of wine. He remembered what she’d worn, the close-fitting clothes showing off her body perfectly, the shape of her small breasts crushed beneath the fabric, flaring out gently to those slim hips.
He had it bad. There was no denying it. He’d been ringing her up on the most spurious of excuses, just to hear her voice.
‘I don’t know who she is, but it’s love,’ his friend Niall had teased him when they’d gone drinking one evening. Aidan had thought a night out with the guys might be the way to stop thinking about Alyson, but he’d just become drunk and morose.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Aidan denied it hotly. But Niall was right. He’d fallen for her, big style.
But Alyson had never given him any indication that she might feel the same way. It was all about work with her: she was so focused on that. It was almost as though he didn’t exist outside of Kennedy’s, Aidan thought resentfully. But he was determined to tell her how he felt – maybe after the Dubai launch. That way, if it all went wrong and she told him to go to hell, they never had to see each other again. He would move on with his life once and for all.
‘So, how’s everything going?’ he asked neutrally, sticking to safe topics.
‘Crazy,’ Alyson replied. She looked stressed, but she forced a smile. ‘Don’t get me wrong, it’s fantastic, but everything’s getting a little hectic.’
‘I really appreciate what you’ve been doing. You’ve done a great job.’
‘Thanks.’ Alyson sipped at her mineral water.
‘And what about after this?’ Aidan asked, trying to sound casual. ‘Do you have anything lined up?’
‘No idea,’ Alyson shook her head. ‘I haven’t even thought about it. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to look for anything else or start pitching for contracts. I’m hoping if this goes well I might get some work out of it. Hopefully you’ll give me a great reference,’ she grinned.
‘Absolutely,’ Aidan smiled back, unable to stop himself from checking out her body. Man, she looked gorgeous, even though she was wearing just simple, loose cotton trousers and a demure white shirt. She always looked polished, classically chic. ‘Seriously, if I can help you out in any way, just let me know.’
‘You’ve already helped me enough,’ she told him honestly. ‘Just thinking back to the state I was in when that story came out … You were my knight in shining armour,’ she teased. She was only half joking. There was no way she’d have picked herself up and created Dante Consulting without him.
‘Hey, I can’t resist a damsel in distress,’ he smiled, then immediately felt like an idiot. He watched as Alyson shifted uncomfortably on her chair, instantly regretting what he’d said. He’d made himself look stupid and embarrassed her. ‘So you really don’t have any idea where you’ll be next?’ he said, trying to move the conversation on.
Alyson shrugged. ‘I could be anywhere in the world,’ she said, sounding a little sad. ‘I guess that’s the beauty of this job, right? I get to see new places, learn new things …’
Aidan nodded. ‘But you’ll miss me, right?’ he couldn’t resist asking.
‘Of course.’ Alyson hesitated for a moment. ‘I’ll really miss you, actually, Aidan.’ Her voice seemed to crack; she couldn’t meet his gaze.
Aidan felt as though his heart was being compressed; his gut was tight with nerves. ‘Alyson,’ he said. There was something in his tone; she looked up immediately, her blue eyes searching his.
‘Yes?’ she asked eagerly.
Aidan wanted to throw caution to the wind, to just tell her how he felt and to hell with the consequences. He was feeling reckless, as if nothing else mattered. ‘I don’t know if this is the right time,’ he began quickly, the words rushing out before he lost his nerve. ‘But there’s something I have to tell you. Shit,’ he swore under his breath, as Alyson’s phone started to ring.
She looked back at him anxiously, her expression apologetic. ‘I’m so sorry, Aidan, I’m going to have to take this. I’m waiting to hear back from the printers – they’re querying the menu.’
‘No problem,’ Aidan said automatically. The phone call had killed the mood, but he was still resolved to tell her. He had to.
‘My God, that’s not possible!’ Alyson burst out in shock.
Aidan looked up sharply. Her face had turned ashen, tears springing into her eyes. Shakily she hung up, putting her phone down on the table. Her whole body was trembling.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Aidan demanded.
Alyson’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. ‘CeCe,’ she finally managed to say. ‘My old housemate, Cécile. She’s killed herself.’
36
It was the afternoon of CeCe’s memorial.
Her funeral had been held a few days before, her body taken back to her home village of Clochiers. It had been a family-only affair. Her parents had never reconciled themselves to CeCe’s choice of career, and the fashion world wasn’t invited. As far as CeCe’s parents saw it, it was the industry itself that had killed their daughter. The intense pressure, the constant stress, the merciless criticism – that’s what had driven CeCe to it, in their eyes.
She’d been found in the bath, her wrists slit. Her blood-alcohol level had been off the scale, and there had been other substances in her system too. A neighbour had discovered her, an elderly woman who’d nearly had a heart attack herself when she discovered CeCe’s lifeless body.
Dionne was still in shock, still unable to believe what had happened. They’d only just reconciled, and now CeCe had been taken away from her in the cruellest way possible. She’d known CeCe was in a bad way, but she’d never imagined … She should never have left, Dionne told herself repeatedly. Surely the signs had been there, if only she’d bothered to look …
But could she really have done anything? She’d asked herself that question a thousand times since she’d heard the news, going over it again and again. She knew she had to let it go – it would destroy her if she continued to think about it.
She stood up carefully from the chair in front of her dressing table, checking her appearance in the mirror. The day was warm, and she wore a simple black dress, empire line to accommodate her growing bump. She turned sideways, looking in the mirror to see how much she’d grown, smoothing the dress down over her stomach. Now that the initial trimester was over, she was almost enjoying being pregnant. Dionne Summers, the eternal party girl, was looking forward to being a
mom! She loved the feeling of new life growing inside her, seeing her body develop and change. She’d expected the experience to freak her out, but she was revelling in it. Her skin was glowing, her eyes bright, and it was such a joy not to deprive herself of food but to eat healthily for the sake of the baby.
It was bizarre to think that CeCe would never know her child. That someone who had been such a big part of her life, who’d been her closest friend at one time, wouldn’t be here for the next chapter. She guessed that was how the world worked, but it was pretty shitty sometimes.
Dionne checked her watch – lately, she’d gone back to wearing the Cartier Tank David had bought for her – and realized that time was getting on. She didn’t want to be late. It was hard to change the habits of a lifetime, but she was slowly getting there.
Dionne took a deep breath as she picked up her oversized Gucci shades. There were going to be a lot of people there today that she didn’t want to see – Alyson Wakefield for one. But she would rise above it all. Yeah, she was definitely mellowing in her old age, becoming more mature. Of course, it wasn’t just Alyson. There were all the people from the fashion world who’d turned their back on her as soon as things went sour, cutting off ties and refusing to take her calls. She would be persona non grata at this memorial, practically a leper.
But she didn’t care what they said. She was doing this for CeCe.
It seemed as though the whole of the fashion world was crammed into l’eglise de la Madeleine in central Paris. It was amazing how popular you became after you were gone, Alyson reflected cynically, thinking of the flood of tributes in the papers from people who’d written CeCe off a long time ago. The fashion press had hounded her during the final weeks of her life, but now those who’d slated her were queuing up to pay tribute, speculating on what heights she could have achieved if her life hadn’t ended so tragically.
