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‘Now go and sit down next door and I’ll get you a glass, before you totally trash the place. Who are you calling?’ Ivan glanced at the phone.
‘Jack.’ Kendall hiccuped loudly, then collapsed into giggles.
Ivan’s eyebrow shot up. ‘Really? I’m not sure that’s the best idea.’
‘Courshe it is. Jack has to be the firsht to know. He’ll be happy for me, you’ll shee. He lovesh me really.’
Ivan didn’t know whether Jack loved Kendall or not. But he’d have been willing to put good money on him not being happy about today’s events.
The reason Kendall was so drunk was that she and Ivan had only just returned from a long, celebratory lunch. They were celebrating for two reasons. The first was that ITV had called last night and confirmed Ivan’s appointment as a judge on Talent Quest, their newest reality talent show. And the second was that at eleven o’clock this morning, Kendall had signed a huge, two-album deal with Polydor’s Fascination Records. Fascination were already huge in the UK, representing the likes of Cheryl Cole and Take That, but their big focus was on signing more big-name US acts, acts whose profile was still building and who were prepared to deal exclusively with the label. Kendall Bryce fitted the bill perfectly.
Financially there was no doubt it was a terrific deal. Not only would Polydor buy Kendall out of her remaining contract with Matador, they were more than tripling her upfront money, and had committed a huge sum to promotion of her albums and at least one live tour. It also fitted well with Jack’s strategy of broadening Kendall’s appeal internationally, and particularly in the crucial UK market. The problem was that Ivan had made the deal. And he had done so without consulting Jack.
Ensconced on Ivan’s suede couch, with a fresh glass of Moët in her hand, Kendall waited impatiently for Jack to come on the line. Perhaps she was a little tipsy. The grandfather clock in the corner was swaying from side to side like a metronome, and the swaying didn’t seem to stop when she closed her eyes. But if she couldn’t let her hair down today, when could she? Jack would be so proud when he heard about her deal. Perhaps now he’d finally believe that she was capable of great things? She was determined to show him she was mature enough to make good decisions, and that all the time and effort and money he’d invested in her had been worth it. Only once he stopped seeing her as a problem, a burden, would he be able to see her as a woman. The woman. His woman.
Coming to England had changed Kendall’s thinking about a lot of things. She’d agreed to move into Jack’s guesthouse because it meant being near him and seeing him every day, but she realized now that had been a mistake. She’d become too commonplace in Jack’s mind, too familiar, a part of the furniture. They needed some distance.
Plus the trip itself had been far more enjoyable than Kendall had ever imagined. Her first gig, at the Apollo, had been a blast, and had received gratifyingly glowing reviews. Meanwhile, Ivan had put together a media tour that had her racing from rehearsals to TV studios to radio stations twenty-four seven, but he managed to make the gruelling days feel like fun. That was the thing with Ivan. With his sharp, caustic sense of humour, his flirting and his love of a good party – and of mischief-making in general, he was more like a naughty frat boy than a management company chaperone. Kendall loved Jack deeply and totally. But being with Ivan made her realize how dull her life in LA had become. Jack was still in mourning. He was depressed. It wasn’t until she got away that Kendall realized that his sadness was contagious.
‘Hey, kiddo! How’s it going over there? I hear you killed at the Apollo.’
Kendall felt awash with happiness. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard such enthusiasm in Jack’s voice. Absence really had made his heart grow fonder.
‘Yeah, it was great,’ she gushed. ‘The Evening Shtandard said I sounded like Aretha Franklin.’
Jack went silent. When he spoke again, all the warmth had drained from his voice. ‘Have you been drinking?’
Kendall was about to deny it when a loud hiccup gave her away. She giggled. ‘Jusht a little bit. But I had a very good reason. You are talking to the new, frontline act for …’ She made a boom boom boom boom noise like a drum roll: ‘Fascination Records!’
She waited for Jack to respond. He didn’t. Holding the handset away from her ear, Kendall looked at the swirling keypad curiously. Had she accidentally pressed mute?
‘Are you there?’ she said eventually. ‘I think I losht him,’ she called to Ivan.
‘I’m here.’ Jack’s voice was icy cold now. It began to dawn on Kendall that all was not well. ‘I sincerely hope you’re joking.’
‘Why would I joke about a thing like that?’ Kendall asked, defensively. ‘I thought you’d be pleased. Aren’t you going to ask me how much it’s for?’
‘No,’ said Jack. ‘Because whatever damn fool agreement you’ve made, you’re gonna unmake. You are under contract with Matador.’
‘Not any more I’m not.’ Kendall felt her anger rising. ‘Polydor are buying me out.’ Why could Jack never, ever give her the benefit of the doubt? He was against this deal before he even knew what it was.
‘I assume Ivan’s behind this. Is he with you?’
‘Ivan was kind enough to set up the meeting. But it was my—’
‘Is he with you?’ Jack interrupted tersely.
‘Yesh. We’re at the flat,’ said Kendall.
‘Put him on.’
Ivan, who’d been hovering in the kitchen doorway listening to the conversation, smiled encouragingly at Kendall. ‘He’ll calm down,’ he reassured her in a stage whisper, before taking the handset. ‘Jack. It’s Ivan. How are you, mate? Your protégée here told you the good news? As of today, she’s officially Jester’s highest-paid client.’
Jack exploded. ‘What the fuck are you playing at?’
‘I’m not playing at anything,’ Ivan said smoothly. ‘I’m doing my job. Getting the best deal possible for Jester’s clients.’
‘Kendall’s my client!’ Jack roared. ‘I sent her to you for a few weeks to do a handful of concerts. And you go and blow up her record deal?’
‘Don’t be so melodramatic,’ breezed Ivan. ‘Nothing’s been “blown up”. Matador are getting their money. Kendall’s moving on to bigger and better things, that’s all. It happens all the time. Besides, you were the one who wanted her to raise her profile over here.’
‘I didn’t want her to move to a British fucking label!’
‘Why not? They’ve got The Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus.’
‘Yeah, as side deals! Not as their primary label.’
‘Which is exactly why they wanted Kendall. She’ll be the first big US act they’ve signed exclusively, and they’ve paid handsomely for the privilege. It’s a forty-million-dollar deal, Jack. If you’d pull your head out of your arse for five minutes, you’d realize this is a good thing.’
Ivan rolled his eyes at Kendall, who was looking increasingly tense and miserable on the couch. Whatever happened, he must not let Jack talk her out of this. This morning’s paperwork would take weeks or even months to finalize. If Kendall wasn’t committed, the whole thing would unravel, and any hopes Ivan had of making the move across to the pop market would be dead in the water.
‘You know, if you really cared about Kendall, you’d be happy for her,’ he said slyly. ‘Forgive me for saying so, but you seem mightily concerned about your own, personal interests here.’
Jack started yelling so loudly that Ivan had to hold the phone away from his ear. As a result, Kendall heard everything.
‘Kendall’s a child,’ he roared. ‘She’s spoiled and short-sighted and completely emotionally immature.’
Kendall blushed scarlet. Was that really what Jack thought of her?
‘She has no idea of the kind of risk she’s taking, walking away from a US record deal at such an early point in her career. She’s an addict, Ivan. She’s unstable and needy and she’s simply not ready for the kind of pressured environment you’re throwing her into.’
Ivan responded, fixing his eyes on Kendall as he spoke.
‘I disagree. I’ve found the young lady to be smart, savvy and very much in control of her own career decisions. I made the introduction at Fascination. But it was Kendall herself who’s been driving this thing.’
‘Bullshit,’ said Jack, again loudly enough for Kendall to hear. ‘Kendall’s no more capable of driving a deal than she is of staying off the booze. I should know. I’ve been wiping the girl’s nose for the last two years. She’s a walking disaster.’
Suddenly sober, Kendall got up and snatched the phone back from Ivan.
‘You listen to me, you smug asshole. You’re not my father, and you’re not my boss. You’re my manager. Which means that you work for me. I’m not going to be held back in my career just because your nose is out of joint that I finally made a decision without you. And it was a good decision.’
‘It was a terrible decision,’ said Jack, deadpan. ‘Let me speak to Ivan.’
‘No!’ said Kendall. She was angry, but she also felt close to tears. She was pleased about the money, of course she was, but what she wanted more than anything was Jack’s approval. She hated herself for wanting it, and she hated him more for not giving it. ‘I’m the client. You can damn well talk to me.’
Jack hung up.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Kendall spluttered. ‘Of all the arrogant—’
Ivan’s mobile rang. ‘Let’s talk about this calmly, OK?’ Cupping his hand over his mouth, Ivan walked back into the kitchen and pulled the door closed. ‘We’re supposed to be a team, Jack. Team Jester.’
‘A team?’ If it hadn’t been so outrageously hypocritical it might have been funny. ‘You got my client to sign a deal behind my back!’
‘Our client,’ corrected Ivan. ‘They’re all our clients, remember?’
This was one of Jack’s favourite catchphrases back in the old days. He wasn’t amused to have it used against him.
‘And it wasn’t done behind your back. It was an opportun-ity; it came up very quickly, and Kendall wanted to take it.’
‘You should have called me.’
‘It was the middle of the night in LA. I took an executive decision, as your partner. I genuinely thought it was what you wanted.’
Jack let out a mirthless laugh. These days, Ivan was about as ‘genuine’ as a plastic Rolex.
‘You know, sometimes I really think you’re intent on holding Jester’s European business back.’
‘That’s crap,’ said Jack robustly.
‘Is it? Then why are you so against me diversifying and pursuing our interests in reality television?’
‘Because they’re not “our” interests, they’re yours,’ said Jack. ‘You want to take time out from the clients to become a TV personality.’ He injected these last two words with as much disdain as humanly possible. Ivan, who’d been about to casually drop his ITV offer into the conversation – Kendall’s deal probably made this his best opportunity to ‘bury’ any other bad news – suddenly thought better of it.
‘And this bullshit with Kendall is all about you too,’ Jack ranted on. ‘You want to move into pop and you’re using her to give you a foot in the door. She may be too naïve to see through you, but I’m sure as hell not. I trusted you.’
‘No you didn’t,’ said Ivan bitterly. ‘You haven’t trusted me for years. Just because I don’t always see things exactly the way you do. Seriously, Jack, who died and made you God?’
In his light-filled office in Beverly Glen, Jack felt his fingers tighten around the phone. How he wished it was Ivan Charles’s neck. For Ivan to pull a stunt like this was bad enough. But to try to turn it around, as if it were somehow his – Jack’s – fault … The whole thing was beyond ridiculous. On the other hand, today’s confrontation had been a long time coming. Perhaps it was no bad thing finally to air their grievances openly? As a partnership, Jester couldn’t go on like this.
‘Kendall Bryce is my client,’ Jack said evenly. ‘I will decide what deals she signs and when. I want you to call Polydor and back out.’
Ivan laughed. ‘Come on, Jack. You know I can’t do that.’
‘Sure you can. Tell them Kendall’s had a change of heart.’
Ivan paused for a moment, then said, ‘But she hasn’t had a change of heart, has she? She wants this Jack. It’s you who’s out of step here.’
‘Either you undo this deal and send Kendall back to LA,’ Jack said slowly, ‘or I leave Jester.’
Back in London, Ivan leaned against the kitchen sink for support. Jack Messenger, leave Jester? Would he really go through with it?
The idea had some advantages, of course, not least among them that Ivan would no longer have to work with Mr Saintly himself, or be hamstrung in his TV and other ambitions by Jack’s stubbornly old-fashioned approach to the business. On the other hand, Ivan had built the London business by being able to promise his clients global reach. If losing Jack meant losing the LA office, he would struggle to attract new talent, and might even lose some of the clients he now had.
If …
But what if I didn’t lose the LA business?I prised Kendall Bryce away from Jack easily enough, and she’s in love with the guy. I already have a good relationship with The Blitz. What if I convinced them all to stick with Jester? To stick with me? My star’s on the rise, after all. Talent Quest’s going to make me a household name.
Buoyed up by the twin successes of the last twenty-four hours and the adrenaline of his fight with Jack, not to mention well over a bottle of good red wine, Ivan felt emboldened.
‘If Kendall wants to stick with Polydor, I’ll stand by her.’ He chose his words carefully. ‘And if you elect not to manage her at that point, then I will. Beyond that, what happens is up to you.’
A few minutes later, Ivan opened the kitchen door and walked back into the living room looking shell-shocked.
‘What happened?’ All Kendall’s earlier defiance was gone. She looked small and anxious curled up on the sofa, like a child who’d just overheard her parents arguing. ‘Did he back down?’
‘Not exactly,’ said Ivan. ‘He quit.’
Kendall’s jaw dropped. ‘Quit? What do you mean? That’s not possible. Jester means everything to Jack. It’s his life.’
‘He gave me an ultimatum,’ said Ivan. ‘Either I get you out of the Polydor deal and send you home, or he’d leave the business.’
Kendall tried to process this, her eyes welling up with tears. ‘You mean … this is my fault?’
‘No, angel, of course it isn’t your fault. Your fault for what?’ Ivan sat down and put his arm around her. She was drunk and emotional, but she looked so fucking adorable in her knickers and T-shirt, with smudged mascara streaking over her high cheekbones, he felt a familiar stirring of desire. ‘For signing a record-breaking deal? For making a real splash in London, like Jack asked you to? I know you’re fond of him. But I’m afraid Messenger’s being a stubborn arse. This is a power thing between him and me. You just happened to get caught in the middle of it.’
Nuzzled against his chest, inhaling the protective warmth of his body, Kendall suddenly felt strangely close to Ivan. For years she’d wanted Jack to hold her like this, to hold her at all, but he was as cold towards her physically as a statue. She had Lex, of course – Lex was an amazing hugger – and scores of lovers. But none of them felt as safe and strong and solid as Ivan Charles did at this moment. Ivan was handsome and funny and powerful and smart. He’d done more for her career in the last two weeks than Jack had done since he signed her. Equally importantly, he was fun to be around. With Ivan, life was unpredictable and exciting. With Jack it was boring and claustrophobic and … disappointing. The years of unrequited love had worn her down. Before she knew what she was doing, Kendall found herself reaching up and clasping her hands around Ivan’s neck. It was Kendall who made the first move, but Ivan responded instantly, kissing her full on the mouth with a force and passion that took her breath away.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ His hands caressed her thighs as he whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck.
‘You mean the deal?’ she whispered back. ‘Or this?’
‘Both.’ Ivan’s hands were beneath her T-shirt now, fumbling with the strap of her Elle Macpherson bra. ‘If you go back to Matador and Jack,’ he planted a slow, lingering kiss on her collarbone, ‘everything could go back to the way it was.’
Kendall closed her eyes. Ivan’s hands and mouth and body felt wonderful. Wrong but wonderful. She forced herself to think about Jack. If she did this deal she would never go back to his guesthouse. Would she even go back to LA? She wasn’t sure. Either way, Jack Messenger would no longer be her manager. He won’t be my friend either. Or anything more than a friend.
But then she remembered the things she’d heard him say to Ivan. ‘She’s spoiled … emotionally immature … a walking disaster.’ With friends like that, did she really need enemies? Maybe Jack needed to lose her – really lose her – to realize she was something worth having?
Or maybe not. Either way, Kendall wasn’t about to walk away from forty million dollars just to massage Jack’s ego. Not when there were so many more appealing things to massage. Reaching down, she tentatively touched the bulge in Ivan’s jeans. It was enormous and hard as a bullet. For a second she thought about Catriona, and about Ned Williams in the stables at The Rookery, giving her the third degree. But only for a second. Clearly Ivan made a habit of extramarital flings. One more was hardly going to make a difference.
‘I don’t want things to go back to how they were,’ she murmured, unbuckling his belt. ‘I want London. And Fascination. And you.’
It was all Ivan Charles could do not to punch the air in triumph.
CHAPTER SIX
The next morning, Catriona Charles came down to breakfast to find Miley Bayley, the three-year-old daughter of The Blitz’s lead singer Brett Bayley and his wife Stella, drawing on the walls in indelible marker.
‘Stella!’ she said, horrified, removing the pen from the little girl’s clutches to a cacophony of spoilt wails. ‘Look what Miley’s doing. It’s everywhere.’
‘Hmm?’ Stella Bayley looked up absently. Sitting in the middle of Catriona’s kitchen floor in the lotus position, her lithe, perfectly toned limbs folded over one another effortlessly, like bent pipe cleaners, she was clearly in a world of her own. ‘Oh, sorry, sweetie. I was meditating. Nothing gets through to me when I’m in the zone.’ She turned her attention to her whining daughter. ‘Hey, baybeeeee,’ she crooned. ‘Whassamatter? Did you get scared, Miley-Moo?’ Scooping the child up into her arms, she turned back to Catriona. ‘We try never to raise our voices to her,’ she said chidingly. ‘Brett and I are big believers in peaceful parenting.’
Catriona bit her lip and counted to ten. What had possessed her to say yes when Stella invited herself down for the weekend? She was a well-meaning girl at heart, and Catriona felt sorry for her, trying to create an illusion of the perfect family life while married to the vain, philandering Brett Bayley. Stuck at home with Miley while her husband gallivanted around Europe on tour with his band must be a lonely life. But, even so, having Stella as a house guest was tough work. She wouldn’t eat anything that wasn’t organic and cruelty-free and purified to within an inch of its life. She would only sleep in east-facing bedrooms – something to do with energy flow – and was terribly keen on ‘healing’ people by laying her hands on their heads. Rosie and Hector both found this hilarious, but the poor dogs were really quite frightened by it. Old Mr Carruthers, the gardener, had threatened to give in his notice last time if Catriona’s American friend didn’t leave him and his tomato plants well alone. But worst of all was the little girl. Catriona felt guilty actively disliking a child of three. But Miley was without doubt the most whingeing, overindulged, obnoxious brat she had ever encountered, the spitting image of her famous father, and obviously destined to be just as much trouble.
‘I’ll pay to get it repainted,’ said Stella, sensing that Catriona had perhaps been pushed too far this time. ‘But you mustn’t yell at Miley.’
‘I didn’t yell at Miley, Stella. I merely pointed out that she was defacing my walls and took away the pen.’
‘The problem is she’s so creative,’ sighed Stella, smothering her daughter with kisses. ‘Gifted children often struggle with boundaries. Don’t they, Miley-Moo?’
