‘I can see you like the best,’ he said, filling one of the white wine glasses to the rim and sipping it thoughtfully.
‘Yes, I do.’ She was certainly not going to apologise, if that was what he expected.
‘That’s something. We need the best. I believe you know Jeremy Northcott quite well.’
‘Yes, I do. Quite well.’
‘He says you’re what we need. I can only take his word for that, of course. Especially as he hasn’t worked here for five years, and, as I understand it, neither have you.’
‘Look,’ said Eliza, feeling her temper rising. ‘I didn’t ask to have lunch with you. You rang me. Jeremy suggested that, as far as I can understand it, none of it’s my fault.’
‘Yes all right,’ he said, sounding half-irritated, half-amused. ‘I was just making the point that I need to reassure myself that you’re what we need. That I run the department, not Jeremy. It’s down to me who I hire. If you’re right then that’s great. If you’re not …’ He shrugged. ‘No hard feelings, I hope. Got any examples of your work on you?’
Eliza felt a flicker of rage, which grew into a hot white flame, soaring through her. How dare he insult her like this? She, who had been acknowledged one of the finest fashion editors in London, if not the world? How could he not have at least done his homework, looked up some old issues? How could he imply she was only under consideration because she was some kind of past girlfriend of the boss? And how dare he not even show her the most basic courtesy of turning up to lunch on time?
‘If you don’t want to talk to me, Mr Brigstocke, that’s absolutely fine, it makes no difference to me. I didn’t ask you to get in touch with me and I certainly didn’t ask Jeremy Northcott to put me forward.’
‘Now look,’ he said, ‘be reasonable. I’m perfectly prepared to consider you for this job. But given that you didn’t even think to bring any of your work with you—’
‘Ye-es?’ she said slowly.
‘And that Jeremy didn’t give more than the slightest clue as to the sort of skills you could bring to the table—’
‘Yes?’
‘Well, you must see I’m being asked to take an awful lot on trust.’
‘No,’ she said, ‘no, not really. Because I would have thought you would have been professional – and actually courteous – enough to do some research on my work yourself, before putting me through this farce. Probably best if I go now, actually, not waste any more of your time. Or mine, come to that. Very nice champagne, thank you—’
‘I don’t think I had much choice in that either,’ said Rob Brigstocke.
‘If you’d been here on time, as I was, you’d have had plenty of choice,’ said Eliza, standing up, ‘but you weren’t and you don’t seem to feel you have to apologise for that either. Will you tell Jeremy what’s happened or shall I?’
‘No doubt you will,’ he said, ‘you seem to have his ear.’
‘That is a repulsive thing to say,’ said Eliza, ‘and I do assure you, I wouldn’t consider working for you now if you offered me a thousand pounds a day and unlimited supplies of Veuve Clicquot. Good afternoon, Mr Brigstocke.’
She walked out, rather pleasingly aware that the other occupants of the restaurant had greatly enjoyed their exchange.
David had said he would book a table for one o’clock; Scarlett was there at quarter past, determined to make him wait, only to find a message waiting for her to say he was desperately sorry, he’d been delayed but there was champagne at the table and he’d be there by one thirty.
She was tempted to walk out, and indeed as the clock said one twenty-eight, she looked up from the file she had been pretending to study, and stood up – to see Mark Frost standing in front of her.
‘Miss Scarlett,’ he said, smiling in apparently genuine pleasure, ‘how lovely to see you. How are you and have you been to Trisos lately?’
‘No,’ she said, flustered, ‘no, I haven’t, sadly. Just too busy. But I’m hoping to make a trip pretty soon.’
‘I too. Perhaps our paths will cross.’
‘That would be – be nice. How is the building project?’
‘Oh – almost there. I’m rather thrilled with it all as a matter of fact. I’ve got some photographs here.’ He rummaged in the battered briefcase he was carrying. ‘I’d like you to see them. I feel we are united in our ambition to see Trisos preserved as much as possible, and as we like it.’
‘Oh – yes. Yes, I do feel that so much. That would be nice.’
‘Are you lunching alone?’
‘No, no, just waiting for someone. You?’
‘Meeting my agent. But apparently she’s going to be late. May I sit down for a moment?’
‘Yes. Yes, of course. Would you like some champagne, it’s here to stop me feeling cross.’
‘Is it working?’
‘Not entirely.’
‘Right. Well – I think not for me. Drinking at lunchtime never agrees with me. Now, here we are. Look. What do you think?’
She looked, at a lovely wide, white construction with the requisite domed roof over one half of it, the other half flat – ‘I intend that to be a terrace, so I can sit and look at the sea. And down here, look, this will be the garden, small of course, but big enough to sit in and grow bougainvillea and here, you see, I am going to plant a vine, to make a sort of arbour – do you like it?’
‘I think it’s absolutely lovely. Really. So simple and – and so – so – Greek. Oh, dear, sorry, what a stupid thing to say.’
‘Not at all, the very nicest thing, actually. I want it to look Greek. I’m pleased you think so. Anyway, next time you’re there, do – oh, I’m sorry.’ He stood up, knocking the photographs onto the floor. ‘So sorry.’
Scarlett looked up; David had arrived. She had forgotten the sheer pulse-speeding, knee-weakening force of David’s presence, the size of him, the power, his blond almost-perfect looks, his sexual magnetism. He was wearing a pale grey flannel suit and a fine cotton shirt that almost exactly matched his eyes, those extraordinary green eyes, the legacy from his mother. He was smiling, easy, his eyes moving over Scarlett, appreciating her. He was carrying a rather overdressed parcel.
‘Let me help,’ he said, bending to pick up Mark’s photographs. ‘Lovely place. This wouldn’t be your Trisos, would it, Scarlett?’
Scarlett saw Mark look at her swiftly, clearly surprised by the adjective. ‘It’s hardly mine,’ she said as coolly as she could.
‘Well, it’s lovely. What a great house. Is it yours?’ he said to Mark.
‘It will be, yes, when it’s finished.’
‘I have heard so much about that place. Scarlett does love it so. Scarlett, I am so, so sorry to be late. Unforgivable. But you look as if you are putting the time to good use.’ He held out his hand to Mark. ‘David Berenson.’
‘Mark Frost.’
‘And – has Scarlett invited you to lunch in my place? I could hardly blame her. I cannot stand people who are late, so rude, so offensive even, I always think. It implies the other person’s time is of no value. When I know how hugely valuable Scarlett’s is.’
‘David, it’s fine. And no, of course I haven’t asked Mark to join us, but I did offer him a drink.’
‘Of course. Mr Frost, do please sit down and have a drink with us – we’d love that, wouldn’t we Scarlett?’
‘No,’ said Mark, ‘no, no, I – that is …’
‘Scarlett, these are for you,’ said David, handing her the parcel, clearly impatient with his awkwardness. ‘Truffles, your favourite.’
‘Thank you,’ said Scarlett briefly.
‘Mr Frost – please do join us.’
‘David, Mark is having lunch with his agent.’
‘His agent? Sounds intriguing. What do you do, Mark?’
‘I – I travel a bit—’
‘Oh, oh, I see. You’re in the same business as Scarlett, are you?’
‘David, Mark is not in the travel business. Well he is, but not like me. He
writes books, travel books—’
‘Oh, but how marvellous! I adore travel writing. Rebecca West, one could read her for ever, and Jan Morris and I never leave home without Paddy of course—’
‘Paddy?’
‘Paddy Leigh Fermor. You know his work? Yes, of course you do. And you write under your own name – can’t say I’ve read any, but I’ll certainly look out for them in future. Scarlett my dear, if you move up a little, I can sit next to you, and Mark here can have my chair – tell me, Mark, have you written about the States? I come from Charleston, the Southern states are all so lovely, but we think the Carolinas win the prize – I’ve been trying to persuade Scarlett to take her business there for years.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Mark, by now sounding desperate, ‘I must go, I see my lunching companion coming now, do excuse me.’ He made a half-bow to Scarlett, then turned to David. ‘Very nice to have met you.’
And then he did what could be best described, Scarlett thought, as scuttling off to the other side of the restaurant.
‘Odd chap,’ said David, sitting down, kissing Scarlett briefly on the cheek.
‘He’s not odd, actually, he’s very nice,’ said Scarlett, pulling her head away, ‘and he’s a wonderful writer, very highly thought of—’
‘I’m sure. No need to sound so defensive. But he’s obviously very shy. Now, let me refill that glass and maybe we should order and then we can relax. It’s so good to see you. Love the dress. That colour is wonderful on you. Oh, Scarlett.’ He reached for her hand, kissed it. ‘Thank you for agreeing to this. It’s so very – generous of you.’
He raised his glass to her, smiled into her eyes. She felt irritated, upset, couldn’t think of anything to say. She had only just managed to regain her cool by the time her main course had arrived; to cut into his fulsome chatter about his mother, about Charleston in the fall, about …
‘Goodbye – Scarlett. Goodbye, Mr Berenson. Nice to have met you.’
He was leaving: a very short lunch, obviously.
‘Bye, Mark.’
‘Goodbye, Mr Frost. I’ll look out for your titles. A treat in store I’m sure.’
What in the name of heaven had she been doing with him? With that appalling, slimy, smarmy creature with his blow-dried hair and his platitudinous observations and his patronising complacency? ‘Never leave home without Paddy’ indeed. What a cretin. Surely, surely she couldn’t like him? If she did – well, he struggled against the concept.
‘So – what was it you particularly wanted to talk to me about?’ asked Scarlett.
‘You’re wearing my bracelet,’ he said, ignoring the question.
‘Yes. I like it.’
‘That makes me very happy. And maybe hope that you’ve forgiven me.’
‘No, David, it just means I like the bracelet.’
She did; she’d sold a lot of the other stuff he had given her, to raise money, but the charm bracelet – something had stopped her parting from that. Too many memories.
‘So,’ she said again, ‘what did you want to talk to me about?’
‘Ah. Yes. Well, it’s complicated. Even a little delicate. I – I hope you’re going to understand.’
‘David, do get on with it,’ Scarlett said. She was beginning to feel a little uneasy.
‘Well – well, Scarlett, it’s the divorce. My divorce.’
‘Ye-es. Isn’t it over yet?’
‘Well, we tried to make a go of it. For the kids. I thought I’d told you.’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘But – impossible. So now it’s happening. And God, I don’t know how to put this.’
‘Try telling it how it is. As they say in your country.’
‘Yes. OK. It’s just that, as you know, I’m divorcing Gaby on grounds of infidelity. That was how we agreed to do it. She wants to carry on living exactly as she has done, with all the considerable goodies she’s grown accustomed to, but without the tedium of having to accommodate me in her life. And although naturally I want to see the children well-provided for …’
‘Yes, of course. Your mother tells me family is everything to you.’
‘Indeed.’ He smiled at her, gloriously unaware of the irony of this. ‘It is. But you see – well – if she knew that I had also – also—’
‘Been screwing around?’ said Scarlett, smiling at him sweetly.
‘Scarlett! I like to think we had something a little better than that. A lot better than that. You know how much you mean to me—’
‘Not really, no. I know how much you said I meant to you. Bit different, from where I’m sitting—’
‘Oh, dear.’ He sighed.
She realised there were beads of sweat on his forehead. She took another large sip of champagne.
‘OK. I’ll come to the point. My lawyer says if Gaby was to even suspect that I’ve been having an affair, she would take me to the cleaners. And it could all get very ugly.’
‘I don’t see what I can do about it.’
‘Scarlett – you can. You can – can – not talk about us.’
‘David, I’m not going to talk about us. I never have and I don’t see why you should think I ever will.’
‘Yes, but – but you see, it’s the money.’
‘What money?’
‘That I – er, invested in your business.’
‘Who’s going to know about that?’
‘Unfortunately, my lawyers have to. And my accountant. Because they’re going through all my assets with a fine-tooth comb. And – they spotted a thirty-thousand-dollar discrepancy. The shares I sold to – to make the money over to you.’
‘Oh. Oh, I see.’
‘Yes. And they say it’s inevitable they’ll appear in the accounts. Because it’s quite a lot of money.’
‘Ye-es. And—’
‘I have to concoct something. The best thing would be to say it was a business start-up. Can you tell me exactly how you explained the money to your accountant?’
‘I said it was from a private source. Which it was.’
‘Yes, of course. Did you name the – the source?’
‘No, of course not. I didn’t have to. As it came in in dribs and drabs.’
He relaxed suddenly. ‘Thank God. That’s marvellous.’ He smiled at her. ‘Here, have some more champagne.’
‘No, thanks. I’ve had enough. I’m still a little confused.’
‘Ah yes. Well, the thing is, you see, if you had named me, I’d have been in the doodoo. Caught out big time. So I’m so, so grateful to you. What a clever girl you are.’
‘Now just a minute, David. All this is about, this lunch and everything, is finding out whether you were going to get caught out in your relationship with me.’
‘Of course not. It was so I could see you, discuss our friendship for the future—’
‘Our friendship. I thought we had a little more than that.’
‘Darling, of course we did. But for now – until the divorce is through – it’s very, very important that that is how it is. How it’s seen. Well, if it’s seen at all.’
‘OK. So the most important thing about me in your life is that nobody knows about me. In case it costs you some money.’
‘A lot of money. And a much uglier divorce, yes. But when it’s over—’
‘David, I don’t find that very flattering, actually. That really does reduce me to a bit on the side. You always used to say that when you and Gaby did actually separate, then we could be together. Now suddenly everything’s different. Because it’s going to cost you money. That doesn’t give me a very warm feeling inside. In fact it confirms the opinion I had formed of you over these past years that you were one huge, extremely offensive shit.’
‘Scarlett – darling—’
‘No, David, not darling. God, I feel sorry for Gaby suddenly. Being married to you. You know, your mother’s always wanted us to meet, said how well we’d get on. Suddenly I rather fancy that. A long cosy chat with her. I think we’d have a
great time.’
‘Scarlett – don’t play games, please—’
‘What makes you think I’m playing games?’
He looked at her, very intently, and realised she was serious, and his demeanour changed almost in a moment.
‘Right. In that case, I have something else to put to you.’
‘Yes?’
‘You actually obtained that money from me by a criminal process. Blackmail is a crime, Scarlett, under whatever circumstances you committed it. And I don’t think it would look very pretty in court. If you do talk to Gaby I shall have nothing to lose. And therefore I can reveal that you blackmailed me, took advantage of my vulnerability, at a time when my marriage was breaking up, when I was hoping to repair it—’
‘You can’t do that! It’s a filthy lie.’
‘Scarlett, you did blackmail me. And a good lawyer, and I do have a brilliant one, can present you as a cheap little gold-digger on the make. It won’t do your reputation in the business world any good. And you might very possibly have to give the money back. So – checkmate, don’t you think?’
‘This is what I think,’ said Scarlett, very loudly, and she stood up, looked around the dining room to make sure people were looking. ‘I think you’re even more of a bastard than I’d realised. Which is saying quite a lot. Now, I’m going to leave you to enjoy your divorce in the bosom of your family undisturbed, so you can relax. Thanks for the champagne; I don’t think I want any more. Why don’t you have it?’
And she pulled the still half-full bottle out of the ice bucket and tipped it over David’s head.
‘So, Jeremy. This is very – very nice.’
She was looking, of course, incredible. Red maxi dress, wonderfully sexy, in soft jersey, high-heeled black boots, hair drawn back from her face, her huge eyes fixed on him, her lips just slightly parted. Her purpose very clear. He didn’t have a chance really. And – did he want one?
She had called him out of the blue, had said she was in New York for a few days’ shopping, that Giovanni had stayed at home in Milan, he was tired after the Christmas celebrations. Could they have lunch, she wanted to see him.
And he had wanted to see her too, still disturbed, shaken indeed, by the flare of attraction – and more – that had begun at Scala that night. Nothing was said, no contact made beyond the occasional social kiss, embrace, farewell, but he had felt its insistence, its refusal to be soothed, sent on its way.
The Decision Page 53
