by Nigel May
It was Sheridan who broke the silence. ‘So, care to join me in a celebratory drink? I’ll be glad to get shot of that site in Hong Kong. It’s been a bit of a bloody albatross.’
‘Sure, what do you fancy?’ Max wasn’t really in the mood for his father-in-law and he was worried about Heather, but if he was going to have to spend time with Sheridan then perhaps a short, sharp shot of something strong might be a good idea.
‘Couple of ouzos suit you?’
‘Sounds good.’
‘I’ll get them in.’
Sheridan raised his hands and clapped them at a passing waiter, already stacked up with a pile of plates from other diners in the restaurant.
‘Two ouzos over here as soon as.’
It was pure ignorance. The waiter nodded his acknowledgement and scuttled off, doubtless muttering something Greek and insulting under his breath.
It was half an hour later that the two men left the restaurant, both still enjoying the flavour of the anise from the ouzo on their lips. The evening sun was just putting itself to bed for the night and the lights around Elounda harbour reflected on the water, performing a multicoloured dance across its surface. Music filled the air, the mandolin-soaked tunes that typified the region sounding from many of the bars and restaurants spread across the harbour. Max couldn’t help but smile. He could definitely understand Heather loving it here. With its fishing boats bobbing on the aquamarine waters and locals repairing nets and sharing jokes on the quayside it possessed a simple, unspoilt charm. The last thing it needed was a huge new-build carbuncle erected in the middle of it, even if it was to be a six-star carbuncle.
‘You’re not thinking of building directly here, are you?’ asked Max, as the two men climbed into their hire car.
Sheridan raised his eyebrows and pushed out his bottom lip in contemplation, staring out at the harbour as he turned the key in the ignition. There was something of the predator in his face, like a lion working out which was the weakest zebra to chase and claw. There was a considerable pause before he replied.
‘Not here, no. Too many businesses to deal with. I’d have to persuade at least twelve or so properties to sell up and sign things over to me and then it would only take one to fuck things up. The land I’m looking at isn’t too far away from here and would only mean buying out a few tavernas and smallholdings. There won’t be as much chance of some local goat farmer screwing up my plans.’
‘And you don’t care about destroying their family businesses.’
It wasn’t a question.
‘I live by the ethic that I was born to win. And to be a winner, I have to plan to win, prepare to win and expect to win. And that means that everybody else has to be losers by default. It’s just the way it is. And having top dollar means coming out on top.’
Max was determined to have his say – Heather would want him to.
‘But wasn’t it Henry Ford who said that a business that makes nothing but money is a poor business?’ Max knew that it was; it was one of the motivational quotes he had pinned to his corkboard in his dressing room at work.
Now it was Sheridan’s turn to have his say. ‘That, son, is a bag of wank! You need to fucking wake up and smell the coffee. It’s cash that keeps this world afloat, not sentimentality. You should know that, even in your poxy job.’ He stared directly at Max, his glare somewhat headmaster-like. It was drenched in condescension. ‘Now, let’s head off into the mountains and try to find some of these hidden villages. If they’re as pretty as I’m led to believe then I’m thinking they shouldn’t stay hidden for too long. I’ll make fucking sure of it.’
Max remained silent, inwardly bubbling with anger, as Sheridan pulled the car out of the restaurant car park and onto the main harbour road.
‘Now, which way do we go?’
Max had never wanted to tell his father-in-law exactly where to go as much in his life as he did at that particular moment.
18
Nikki removed her phone from underneath her Hugo Boss leather skirt and moved it back to her face. She was perched on the edge of a table in her New York hotel suite with her legs spread as wide apart as the leather would allow.
‘And that is all you’re seeing for now, Julian. I have to go. The event starts in a while and if I’m not there looking resplendent on the red carpet and telling the world about how fabulous Velvet is then my father will not be a happy bunny, will he? And besides, you FaceTiming me just so that I can flash you my lingerie is borderline pervy and you know it!’
‘And your point is?’ laughed Julian, his face animated and decidedly happy after the frilly thrills he’d just seen underneath Nikki’s skirt. She suspected he was masturbating out of shot, but chose not to ask. ‘I thought you would have worked out by now just how I get my kicks and a guided tour of your underwear on FaceTime is a definite winner. Can I see again, please?’ His voice was almost pleading.
‘No, Julian, you can’t. Where are you anyway?’
‘I’m at my house in Barbados. Your father’s away in Crete with Heather and your mum is in the UK and what with you there in New York, I’m feeling kind of lonely.’
‘Well, I’ll be back in a few days so you’ll have to stay lonely until then. Can’t you go and log on to some dirty app or whatever freaky thing it is you use to get your rocks off? I’m sure that will take your mind off missing me.’
‘I’m busy, believe you me,’ said Julian. ‘We’re selling the Velvet hotel in Hong Kong and I have shitloads to do to make that happen smoothly so I’m not sitting idle.’
‘Are you sure you’re not bored stiff, Julian?’ Nikki giggled. ‘There’s a definite jiggle to the camera at your end and I think I know exactly what you’re doing.’
Julian grinned and moved his own phone down to his cock so that it filled the screen. He was pumping the shaft of his penis with a pair of panties in his hand. Nikki immediately recognised them.
‘Jesus, Julian, those are my Tommy Hilfigers!’
Julian moved the phone back up to his face. ‘Well spotted! Now, hurry home.’
Nikki smiled. She liked Julian; she needed him. For the cash, of course, but she had to admit to herself that he was an open book when it came to sex. He had an enjoyment for it that she appreciated even if some of his kinks were a little out there. He might have been way beyond her normal age bracket, but the money he could supply was an erogenous zone that could never be ageist.
‘I’ll be back in a day or two. Now get out of here, I have to go.’
‘Just one more flash of your panties before you go,’ begged Julian, his voice now a little shaky and desperate. ‘Can I please see them again?’
It was easy for Nikki to guess why, given the ‘urgency’ in his voice. She grinned and moved the phone down her body until it was in line with her skirt and her open legs. She was just about to move it under the leather when she pressed her finger to the off button and the vision of an expectant and visibly excited Julian disappeared. It was a deliberate move – she figured it was always good to leave a man wanting more, even a dirty old one like Julian.
She was looking forward to the night ahead. Velvet New York was one of her favourite places to be in the Velvet chain and after the day she’d had, delivering yet more money into the hands of her blackmailers, she was determined to try and let her hair down. She had teamed her skirt with a Victoria Beckham appliqué woven tee and she had to admit that she was rocking the cool-just-out-of-school look. She may have been twenty-seven but given the right outfit and a trace of make-up, Nikki could easily pass for late teens, early twenties. Virtually every fashion magazine and trendy blog in both the States and the UK had commented on how Nikki Rivers had looks to die for and a youthful glow that would look just as at home on the front row of a Little Mix concert as it would on the front row of Fashion Week.
She checked her watch; she was due on the red carpet in an hour. She knew the routine by now. She’d talk about how proud Velvet were to be hosting another sensational evening wit
h top international DJ Blair Lonergan, especially now he was back on his home NYC turf. Not that she’d met him as yet – time zones had never permitted. From what she’d heard he was a major player, not just of the best tunes out there, but also every possible female he came into contact with. DJs were the new gods and it seemed women around the globe were more than happy to get on their knees and worship.
Doubtless there would be a few photo opportunities with herself and Blair. This would guarantee the column inches on Perez Hilton and Celebitchy. Blogs like that were imperative if the reputation of Velvet was to keep on growing, especially with a megastar like Blair connecting his name with the chain.
After that, Nikki would hook up with her New York girlfriends and make sure that she lost herself as far away as possible from the snapping lenses of the paparazzi, burying herself in the darkest corner of the Velvet VIP area where she and her model friends could drink till dawn and party like hyperactive children without the worry of a smudged lipstick or a stray false lash photo hitting the media highway.
A knock sounded at the door as she lost herself in contemplation about the evening ahead. Perhaps it was her make-up artist coming to make sure she looked nothing short of fabulous for the red carpet. Nikki walked to the door of her suite and opened it. A sea of red greeted her as she stared at a massive bouquet of long-stemmed roses. She could hardly see the man carrying them behind the blooms.
‘Delivery for you, Miss Rivers,’ he said, his voice somewhat lost behind the display.
‘Thank you,’ said Nikki, a smile of excitement spreading across her face. Who were they from? She knew it wouldn’t be Julian. Flowers were not his style – he was more of a matching bra and panties kind of man. ‘Bring them in… if you can see where you’re going!’
‘Thank you, miss.’ The hotel worker manoeuvred himself into the room and placed the flowers on the nearest table. He then excused himself, leaving Nikki alone with the blooms.
They were truly magnificent and Nikki spotted a small envelope placed at the centre of the bouquet. She picked it up and opened the flap, keen to read any message inside. She smiled as she read it.
I hope you enjoy what you hear tonight. And I hope you enjoy what you see. Blair x
Nikki couldn’t contain her smile. The man was slick, she had to give him that. Of course she would like what she’d hear. Blair Lonergan played the trendiest tunes and mixed them to within an inch of their lives. But like what she saw? What could that mean? Was he flirting with her? She believed he was; she suspected he did it with every woman. She tossed the card back on the table, a smile still on her face. If he thought that she was going to become another one of his long list of conquests then he had another think coming but she was certainly looking forward to meeting him.
Another knock sounded on the door ten minutes later. This time it was the make-up artist, a camp guy by the name of Zan, who Nikki always used when she was in New York.
‘Somebody looks happy,’ said Zan, flouncing into the room make-up bag in hand. He was pointing at Nikki’s face with the other hand. She was indeed still smiling.
Blair Lonergan smiled as he sprayed a mist of Bottega Veneta Pour Homme across his neck and chest. One of his favourite scents, it always put him in the mood to perform to the peak of his capabilities. It was a lucky talisman and spraying it on was part of his pre-gig ritual – it reminded him just how far he had come in life since those early days playing the backstreet dives of New York. The fusion of bergamot from Italy, pink peppercorns from Brazil, patchouli from Indonesia and jasmine from India merged into a heady aroma that, just like Blair and his international DJ travels, sampled a myriad of different intercontinental regions.
He breathed in the aroma as he stared out the window at the New York skyline. The rain had stopped and in an hour’s time he would be ready to bring nothing but glorious, euphoric sunshine into people’s lives by playing the songs that would transport them to a place where only happy endings existed. For Blair, that was the power of music, how a press of a button and a segue from one song into another could take people on a journey they never imagined, with Blair as their invincible captain. Under his guidance, all the stresses and strains, worries about the day and about the shit that life could throw at you would be banished in a fast-paced mix of seductive beats.
He wondered if Nikki Rivers had any worries. Somehow he doubted it. What would the heiress of the hallowed Velvet empire have to concern herself other than if her latest outfit had already been seen on a fellow socialite or if Daddy hadn’t paid her a decent allowance that month? Life was easy for the likes of Nikki. She’d been born into money. Back in the days when he had no money she wouldn’t have dreamt of looking at a guy like Blair. They wouldn’t have shared the same air space. But now he was the ultimate DJ and if his success had proved anything to him it was that success meant money and with money came choices. More choices than ever before, and that meant more sex than ever before too. Something he was more than happy to indulge in. He’d played the shag-it-bag-it card for years and that was how he rolled.
But a slight niggle had been eating away at him for a while now, ever since he first laid eyes on Nikki Rivers. Yes, he loved the fact that money and success would mean that she would definitely look in his direction and she would doubtless be blown away by his ridiculously massive bouquet of flowers. He even loved the thought that maybe their night would end up in the sack. But what he couldn’t quite get his head around was the fact that he had been thinking about Nikki non-stop for hours and he’d never even met the woman. Maybe tonight was the night. But was she single? Would she be interested in him and why did he care? There would be hundreds of women there tonight who would gladly give their right arm to wrap their lips around what Blair had to offer. But strangely that didn’t appease him. He was just thinking about one woman in particular. His aim for this evening was to make sure that he didn’t blow his chances with her.
Blair moved away from the window and towards his bedside table. A fresh line of thick, white cocaine was already laid out on the surface from where he’d chopped it earlier. He picked up a freshly rolled hundred-dollar bill, bent over and snorted the powder in one swift move. If anything would calm his inner niggles then that would be it. Besides, a couple of lines before playtime were another pre-gig ritual.
As the elevator doors opened, the excited chatter of voices and an explosion of camera flashes greeted Nikki Rivers as she stepped out. The Velvet NYC nightclub was situated on the top floor of the hotel and afforded some of the best views in the whole of the Big Apple. The entrance to the club was directly opposite the elevator and already the red carpet area was buzzing with activity. Nikki waved across to some of her girlfriends who were already working their way down the line of reporters, bloggers and fashion gurus desperate for their attention. As she knew would happen, the minute she appeared there was a scramble towards her, which was why she had two of the Velvet security team flanking her. Only a serious amount of muscle could stop a charging herd of microphone-armed reporters and their camera-wielding cohorts.
Used to working the crowds, Nikki moved her way towards the red carpet and ignored the shouts from the rampage surging towards her. They would find out what she was wearing, who she was supposedly seeing and what she thought about the latest celebrity tittle-tattle when she was ready and not before.
Taking her place in front of a display embellished with the Velvet logo and the name of Blair Lonergan, Nikki flashed her best Hollywood smile and posed for the glitterball of camera flashes coming at her from every direction. She wouldn’t utter a word until the cameras had finished. No one would be getting a photo of her with a half-open mouth or an expression anything less than picture perfect.
It was only when the cameras stopped that she started to take questions. She was just about to answer her first one – perhaps unsurprisingly about her appliqué tee – when she was left hanging mid-sentence. The press had charged away from her and towards the opening elevator do
ors. This had never happened to Nikki before; she was always the centre of attention.
As she turned towards the elevator doors she saw that Blair Lonergan was vacating the lift. She gave a gasp as she looked at him, remembering the flowers that he had sent her earlier. So there he was in the flesh. What did she think? A fusion of emotions washed through her. Anger that he had taken the spotlight away from her before she had decided that it was her time to finish answering the questions. But mixed in with that, and possibly drowning out all other thoughts was the fact that he was right about what he had written on the card with the flowers. She did indeed like what she saw; every inch of him.
Yes, she liked what she saw a hell of a lot.
19
‘Why does everybody on this island drive like they’re on a day trip to the fucking seaside, ambling along at twenty kilometres an hour? It’s fucking insane!’
Sheridan Rivers was not in the best of moods. He’d been stuck behind a tractor for the last twenty minutes on a road that was little more than a dirt track with jagged, dramatic boulders on either side. He had spent his time turning the air blue and sounding the horn so often that it was nigh on continuous. And sitting alongside him, as they headed into the mountains of Crete, was the last place that Max Stoneham wanted to be right now.
‘There’s no rush. I’m sure the mountain villages aren’t going anywhere. They’ve been there for centuries after all. Another half an hour is hardly going to make any difference,’ he said, his annoyance clear.
But Sheridan was having none of it. ‘If I do decide to build a hotel around here then I’ll tell you one thing, I’ll be making sure there’s a fucking decent dual carriageway up here that can handle coach-loads of rich sodding tourists for one. Not even the roads in bloody Barbados are this bad!’