‘Hey, don’t be like that,’ said Tess. ‘Jack is my friend and he needs my help.’
‘And the father, this Kevin? He wouldn’t be the strong handsome type by any chance, would he?’
‘I’ve had enough of men,’ Tess smiled cynically.
For a moment, Patty sat there, thinking. Even though they were friends, Patty’s calm unnerved Tess. She wasn’t used to dealing with someone so composed, not after a decade of working in newspapers, where anger was regularly vented in outbursts of expletives and desk–thumping. Finally Patty said, ‘I’m not a family lawyer.’
‘But you are a lawyer,’ insisted Tess, ‘a good one.’
‘I’m a lawyer who works fifteen hours a day for the Asgills. I have no life, let alone spare time to go on a crusade. I just don’t have the time for taking on board Kramer versus Kramer.’
It was exactly the way Tess had expected her to respond. After all, Tess would have said the same thing six months ago. Back then she had practically been allergic to children, but now, having got to know and care for Jack and his father, she couldn’t stand by and watch their family broken up.
‘That little boy means the world to Kevin,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how he’d react if his wife took Jack away.’
‘Then why can’t he get a lawyer?’
‘Because he just hasn’t got that type of money. As we speak, he’s probably on the Internet trying to do it himself, taking advice from amateur Judge Judys.’
Patty raised a hand, ‘Okay, okay. I get the picture.’
‘He’s single–’
‘And that’s supposed to make a difference?’
‘He’s cute too … ’
Tess could see the crack of a smile on her friend’s lips.
‘All right, what do you want me to do?’ said Patty with a note of slight exasperation.
‘Meet Kevin. Give him some advice. In fact, let’s make a night of it. Come to mine for supper tomorrow and I’ll invite Kevin. I’ll get Jemma in too and we can all put our thinking caps on.’
Patty looked wary. ‘I’ll be working late all week,’ she said.
‘Friday night then,’ said Tess, refusing to give up. ‘No one works late on a Friday night.’
Patty let out a long breath. ‘Okay, as long as you make one of those English roasts with those funny little potatoes.’
‘It’s a deal!’ said Tess. ‘I might even do bread sauce.’
‘Eweugh!’
Tess got up and backed out through the door before she could change her mind.
‘Eight p.m.,’ she said, ‘and maybe you should think about dressing up?’
‘Out!’ shouted Patty, throwing a paper clip at the space where Tess had been.
*
Tess’s apartment was more crowded than it had been since she had arrived in New York.
Four people in the little flat was enough to make it feel like a party, especially as Kevin and Jemma were already halfway through a bottle of Chablis by the time Patty rang the doorbell.
‘So where’s the roast?’ she asked as she handed Tess her Armani coat.
Tess held up a carton of noodles. ‘Well … I thought I’d call in Chinese instead. Didn’t want anyone to die of food poisoning.’
Patty rolled her eyes, then extended her hand to Kevin and Jemma. Kevin stood up, almost jumping to attention as he shook her hand. Tess could see why Kevin was looking intimidated, especially as Patty wasted no time in sitting down and opening her notebook.
‘The situation is this,’ she said finally, pausing for a sip of wine. ‘New York State doesn’t recognize one parent as being better than the other. However, the fact that you and Melissa never married puts a slightly different complexion on things.’
Kevin face, which minutes before had looked hopeful, now seemed to fall. ‘So the court will rule in Melissa’s favour?’
‘No, not exactly. The fact that Jack currently lives with you helps enormously. What we need to do is prove to the court that this is a stable home for Jack.’
Tess looked at Kevin. ‘Well, that will be easy – it is, isn’t it?’
Patty shook her head. ‘I’m afraid it is a claim that Melissa will try and sabotage.’
Kevin nodded. ‘I thought of that, so I’ve already asked about getting school reports to show that Jack is happy and settled and doing well.’
‘Good start,’ said Patty. ‘We need more of that. People in the community who can attest to your stability as a family unit – perhaps a priest or a doctor? We just need to gather as much evidence in our favour as possible and try and anticipate where Melissa’s people will try to trip you up.’
She paused and smiled. ‘And on top of that, there are a few tricks I’ve learned in corporate law. Winning is not just about firefighting, it’s about going on the attack.’
‘You mean you need to prove Melissa is a crappy mother?’ said Jemma.
Patty smiled. ‘That would certainly help.’
‘Well, you’ve come to the right place. I can do some snooping around,’ said Jemma, snapping a prawn cracker. ‘She lives in Greenwich right? That’s not too far. I bet you fifty quid she’s no Mother Teresa.’
‘It’s dollars now, Jem,’ smiled Tess. They continued the discussion as they picked at the takeaway and opened more wine, laughing and joking, although Tess thought that Kevin was still looking cautious. As Jemma cleared away the plates, he began playing nervously with the cuff of his smart pale blue shirt.
‘I just want to say how grateful I am to all you ladies,’ he said haltingly. ‘But I want you to know I’ve got money. I got a five thousand–buck loan from a friend, so I want to pay everyone for what they’re doing.’
A quiet, uncomfortable hush descended around the table.
‘That won’t be necessary, Kevin,’ said Patty gently. ‘I’m happy to look after this for the moment, and if it starts getting too time–consuming, then I’ll hand it over to a friend of mine who has a great family law practice in Brooklyn.’
‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Kevin.
‘My pleasure,’ she said, waving his thanks away, then glanced down at her Cartier watch. If Tess didn’t know better, she’d say she was a little embarrassed.
‘I’d better go,’ she said, closing her notebook. ‘I have to be in work at six.’
‘It’s Saturday tomorrow, Pats,’ smiled Tess, walking her to the door. ‘I thought it was only me who was on duty twenty–four/seven.’
‘Thanks,’ said Tess simply when they were out of earshot of Kevin and Jemma. Patty hooked her Bottega Veneta bag over her shoulder and opened the front door. ‘You know what?’ she said, her face shining, ‘it felt good tonight. I’ve definitely been working in the corporate jungle too long – sometimes you need to come up for fresh air.’
Silently Tess agreed with her.
When she had gone, Tess walked back into the living room.
‘Well, I’m going to bed,’ said Jemma, stretching her arms out. ‘I was out until four a.m. last night.’
‘Good luck in Greenwich,’ said Kevin.
‘She’s a wily old fox. She’ll get results,’ grinned Tess.
‘Less of the old, more of the foxy,’ said Jemma playfully. Yawning she waved at them. ‘G’night.’
Tess poured herself another glass of Chablis and sank onto the sofa next to Kevin.
‘Remind me not to get on your bad side,’ he said as they heard Jemma’s bedroom door click shut.
Tess frowned. ‘My bad side? What do you mean? It’s Patty Shackleton you have to worry about.’
‘Oh yes, she’s great too,’ said Kevin. ‘But you got this whole ball rolling, getting things fixed and arranged. I’m impressed.’
Tess shrugged modestly. ‘Is that a compliment?’ she smiled, the wine’s warm fuzziness making her a little flirtatious.
‘Sure,’ he grinned.
‘Well thank you,’ said Tess. ‘A lot of men seem to think that strong women are intimidating.’
�
�Hey, I didn’t say I wasn’t intimidated,’ he teased.
Suddenly Tess was very aware of just how close they were sitting on the sofa, his warm thigh against hers. Four glasses of wine had made her feel light–headed and unusually calm, and she found she was enjoying Kevin’s company. Maybe she was projecting an image of the strong, sensitive type onto Kevin after all the crap with Dom and his shallowness, but Kevin seemed different, and not in a bad way. Plus, she couldn’t help noticing what blue eyes he had.
‘Listen,’ he began, leaning over to put his wine glass on the coffee table. In almost slow motion, Tess saw it overbalance and tip sideways in a perfect arc onto the floor.
‘Oh shit, damn!’ he said, jumping up. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ he muttered, stretching to pick it up.
Tess grabbed his arm, which felt strong to the touch.
‘It’s only wine. Forget it,’ she said, and without thinking she leant forward and touched her lips against his, her eyes closing as she opened her mouth gently for a sweet featherlite kiss. But it never came. Kevin was moving back, his lips pulling away until there was nothing between them but three feet of air prickling with awkwardness.
‘Oh, uh, that’s probably not a good idea,’ he said, looking at the floor.
Tess felt her cheeks flare. ‘Yeah, I’m sorry … Kevin, sorry,’ she said cursing. She felt stupid and ashamed, suddenly realizing how it must look to him: that the whole night had been cooked up with the sole intention of seducing him.
Kevin smiled and pointed to the wine. ‘Don’t worry, I blame the devil’s soda.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Tess firmly. ‘I think my alcohol tolerance is way down from what it was in London. I’m just so drunk, I … ’ She shook her head. ‘I’ll just stop babbling now.’
‘Heck, and I thought it was my movie–star good looks,’ said Kevin kindly.
They both laughed weakly.
‘I think I should go,’ said Kevin, grabbing his jacket. ‘I told the babysitter I wouldn’t be late.’
She waved him out of the room. ‘Yes, go. Go pick up Jack. Go.’
When he was gone, Tess sank down into a chair and put her head in her hands. ‘Nooo … ’ she whispered to herself. ‘Someone tell me that didn’t just happen.’
But it did and it had, and it didn’t look like the ground was going to open up and swallow her. So, groaning, Tess got up, grabbed the empty bottle of Chablis, and threw it into the bin with a thud.
CHAPTER THIRTY–EIGHT
Debs Asquith marched into Brooke’s apartment and handed her a takeaway coffee. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Not quite,’ said Brooke, hunting around her bedroom for a missing Jimmy Choo shoe. They were due to set off for a girlie afternoon of pampering at Skin Plus, Brooke’s treat to Debs for all the extra Portico–related work she’d had to pile onto her friend recently.
‘So, how good are these therapists at your sister’s spa exactly?’ asked Debs, sipping her Frappuccino. ‘Can they get me looking as good as you by this evening? I could do with it because, believe it or not, I have a date.’
‘A date!’ smiled Brooke, looking up from her closet. ‘You didn’t tell me.’
‘Well, you’ve been in La La Land for the last three days, haven’t you? Speaking of which, how was the City of Angels?’
‘Fantastic,’ grinned Brooke, still on a high. ‘Do you know what? I think I could live in LA.’
‘You? The die–hard New York City girl?’
Brooke had surprised herself by how much she had enjoyed herself on the West Coast, despite the scariness of the meetings at the Hollywood studios. At one point she and Eileen had been round a conference table with seven executives, one of whom actually had four flashing telephones in front of him, and there was still no word about whether they wanted to option Portico. But what Brooke had loved was the LA life. For a huge metropolis, teeming with freeways, cars, and beautiful people, she’d had an unusually relaxed time. She’d stayed at the home of one of Sean’s ex–girlfriends, an actress currently out of the country filming, which was high up and secluded in the Hollywood Hills, surrounded by oleander bushes and covered with a wraparound sky that seemed so close Brooke could almost touch it. Even better had been when she and Eileen had ventured out to dinner at a Japanese restaurant recommended by one of the studio execs. The paparazzi’s flashbulbs had started popping on the streets as soon as she stepped out of her car but, to her astonishment, she saw that the fuss and excitement was actually over the arrival of Hayley Milano, an eighteen–year–old singer caught in the middle of a sex–tape scandal. Brooke realized with a flutter that outside of New York she just wasn’t as famous, and it felt wonderful.
The missing shoe, inexplicably, was in her swimwear drawer. ‘Finally,’ sighed Debs, ‘let’s go!’
Brooke held up one finger. ‘Just a minute,’ she said, beckoning Debs towards her spare room. ‘What size feet are you again?’
‘Eight,’ replied Debs, following her friend with a puzzled look.
‘Wow,’ she gasped. The room was crammed with boxes and bags full of clothes, handbags, shoes, jewellery, and cosmetics, piled in heaps and spilling onto the floor. Debs ran a finger along a rail full of designer clothes.
‘Look at this stuff.’
‘Take what you want,’ smiled Brooke. ‘You have got a date tonight, after all.’
‘But … but there’s thousands of dollars’ worth of stuff in here,’ Debs protested.
‘Don’t worry, I didn’t pay for any of it,’ said Brooke. ‘As soon as I got engaged, whoosh, all this free stuff started appearing. Apparently celebrities get given free stuff by publicists and designers so they can wear it, get photographed in it, endorse it, so that thousands of women around the world run out and buy it. Cheap advertising for them, I guess.’
Debs clapped her hands together. ‘I love having a friend getting married to a famous billionaire.’
Brooke smiled with pleasure as she watched Debbie dance around the room like a child in a sweet shop. Debs was her most down–to–earth friend, openly disdainful of the society world and the fashion circus that Brooke was obliged to involve herself in, but every girl loved shoes and handbags, didn’t they? Putting down her drink, she joined in, opening bags and foraging in boxes. Debbie slipped on a pair of zebra–print heels, then unzipped a white linen garment bag, peeking inside. ‘Oh, now this is amazing,’ she said, pulling out a long, quartz–coloured gown and holding it against her. She posed in front of the full–length mirror, then pulled a face.
‘Nah, one for you I think,’ she said. ‘For a start, I wouldn’t get the zip halfway up, and I’m not quite sure where the hell I’d wear it in Queens.’
But Brooke was only half listening. She couldn’t take her eyes off the dress that she had just removed from a black garment bag. It was incredible. Long, lean, and so fluid it shimmered. An elegant V–shaped neckline curved into a finely beaded bodice, the slim column of the dress sweeping out into a fishtail. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t even bothered to open it before now.
She quickly stripped off her jeans and top.
‘Having a hot flush or something?’ smiled Debs, raising an eyebrow.
Ignoring her, Brooke slid into the dress. Looking into the mirror, her heart leapt. It was perfect, her dream dress. In fact it was exactly the dress she had imagined she would get married in. Not the colour, or even the fabric, but the shape – it was exquisite, both relaxed and romantic yet elegant and dramatic. It was exactly what she had been trying to describe to Guillaume Riche before he had steam–rollered her into an elaborate corseted gown she knew in her heart of hearts was wrong.
‘Now that’s … wow!’ was all Debs could say.
Feeling a little shudder of excitement, she went over to the bag to examine the label. Nicholas Diaz. She’d never heard of him. But he was going to hear from her, and soon.
*
Of Meredith’s many skills, one of her most impressive was entertaining. More precisely, she was a seasoned
expert in commanding and coordinating a vast team of people – chefs, maids, butlers, waiters, and barmen – who together would create a dinner that looked, to its guests, effortless. In another life, Meredith would have made a great general. Every one of her talents was required for this night, however, as it would be the first time all of the Billingtons and Asgills would meet. The arranging of their respective diaries had been a military campaign in itself, but Meredith would not – could not – let a single detail slip on this important night. By three in the afternoon, Meredith’s house was chaos, with caterers, delivery boys, and flower arrangers all jostling for space. Liz was used to the pomp and circumstance of her mother’s parties, but she had never seen so much intense activity before a ‘casual supper’.
‘I don’t remember you making all this effort for a meet–the–family supper when I was getting married,’ said Liz, watching from the doorway of the formal dining room as her mother supervised three Filipina maids in the delicate task of arranging the place cards according to her intricate table plan.
‘We had a brunch,’ said Meredith distractedly, before turning her attention back to the maids. ‘No, no, Sunita. Wendell must go to my right, David to my left. Can we please do it as per the plan?’
Liz smiled as her mother flapped and clucked like a hen. Party arrangements were the only time she saw Meredith lose her seamless elegance. Then again, she was probably still upset about the sale of Asgill Cosmetics falling through. Well, it was swings and roundabouts; the very reason for her mother’s disappointment was Liz’s cause to celebrate tonight.
‘Correction, Mother. We had a brunch the day before the ceremony as part of the festivities,’ said Liz, pointedly.
‘So let me get this straight,’ said Meredith, picking a crystal goblet off the table and examining it in the light, ‘You are objecting to getting to know the Billingtons better on the basis of wedding envy?’
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