by Susan Lewis
‘Nut-cruncher. Shrink,’ Ula elucidated, selecting a fuscia-pink nail polish from the manicurist’s tray and testing it out. ‘They say she’s been seeing a shrink.’
‘So? Doesn’t everyone?’ Mimi said, standing back to admire her handiwork.
‘Not any more. It’s passé. Cornelius, do you think you could do something with my hair?’ Ula groaned, running the unpolished fingernails of her left hand through the neglected thatch of black hair that framed her lovely Irish face. ‘Shall we try red? I kind of like red. Did you see that movie with Kim Basinger, or was it Sharon Stone? She had red hair. It looked sensational . . .’
‘OK, we’ll give it another shot when you’re dressed,’ Mimi pronounced, tissuing off Galina’s lipstick and raising her voice to make herself heard over the fitness tape someone had just slotted into the video. ‘Turn it down!’ she yelled, sliding her brushes back into the felt roll. ‘OK, Cornelius, she’s all yours. Robyn, you got the camera over there? We need some shots for our records.’
‘Any sign of any other arrivals?’ Maribeth called over to the couple of assistants who were standing at the window keeping vigil on the forecourt below.
‘A few,’ one of them called back. ‘No one recognizable yet.’
‘Did you invite the women from your club?’ Galina asked Maribeth, wincing as Cornelius peeled off her protective headband and began brutally scrunching her hair.
‘Water,’ he shouted. ‘Someone bring water.’
His assistant leapt to the deed, thrusting a spray into Cornelius’s outstretched hand.
‘They’ll all be here,’ Maribeth said confidently.
‘The Poisoner’s after your club, isn’t she?’ Ula said, settling down to finish polishing her nails. ‘Didn’t I read somewhere that she’s suing you for age discrimination?’
‘She’s trying,’ Maribeth confirmed, watching Galina’s reflection in the mirror as Cornelius went about his work. Galina’s dazzlingly white-blonde hair was so short that, unless Maribeth had been watching this herself, she’d never have believed that it could call for such skill to style it.
‘Does she want to become a member?’ Mimi asked. ‘Is that her problem? How old is she? She’s got to be over thirty.’
‘She’s twenty-eight,’ Maribeth said. ‘And yes, she wants to become a member.’ Sighing she added, ‘I guess I’d better go see what she wants. Make sure, all of you, that Galina gets ten minutes’ quiet before we get started. I’ll be back to see you then, honey,’ she said, smiling at Galina in the mirror.
‘Bring Peggy,’ Galina said mischievously. ‘I want to hear her last-minute advice.’
‘Don’t tease her,’ Maribeth chided. ‘It’s not easy doing these press calls, as you’re about to find out. See you all later,’ and leaving the scent of Giorgio Red behind her she departed.
Being an expert at his craft it wasn’t long before Cornelius was finished, and spinning Galina round in her chair so she was facing into the room he cried, ‘Da-da!’
Ula, who was in the middle of telling everyone about a new cellulite treatment she’d recently read about, stopped and let her mouth drop open as the others gasped or murmured or simply stared in mute admiration.
‘Will you just look at her?’ Ula murmured. ‘Galina, honey, you look like a god-damned angel. You look so gorgeous I – Hell, I don’t know what to say. I feel like I could cry.’
Galina arched an eyebrow.
‘No, I’m serious,’ Ula said. ‘I feel humbled and deeply moved to be in the presence of such divine beauty . . . What was that for?’ she cried, as a hand towel hit her in the face. ‘I mean it. You look sensational.’
‘Can I get out of this chair now?’ Galina said, struggling up. ‘God, I’m so stiff, I feel like I’ve been here a week.’
‘Let’s take a look at your back and shoulders,’ Mimi said, coming forward and untying the pink gown Galina was wearing. ‘Here,’ she said, throwing the gown at one of her assistants, ‘put that in with the rest of the laundry and someone bring me a touch-up stick.’
‘You mean she’s got a blemish!’ Ula cried ecstatically.
‘One day,’ Mimi sighed, feeling every one of her hundred and thirty pounds as she gazed at Galina’s perfect long-legged figure and beautifully burnished skin in the pure white silk and lace body from Anne Klein, ‘I am going to look like that.’
‘In your dreams,’ Cornelius said waspishly.
Mimi eyed him nastily, then dabbing around Galina’s shoulders with the touch-up stick, she said, ‘OK, everyone out. Verena, be back in ten minutes to dress her. Cornelius and the rest of you in fifteen for finals. Ula, I take it you’re staying?’
‘You bet.’
‘OK. If either of you needs anything you can get it for yourselves. No, seriously, I’ll post someone outside to satisfy your legal-substance cravings, but no more than one coffee for you, Galina, and make it decaff.’
‘It’s like having a nanny,’ Ula grumbled as the door closed behind Mimi. ‘Is she always like that?’
Galina laughed. ‘I imagine so. I’ve only known her four days, remember?’ Sitting back in the make-up chair she pulled her long legs up to her chest and circled them with her arms. ‘So, tell me, you spoke to Max this morning? What did he say? Is he still angry?’
Ula’s small red mouth moved thoughtfully to one side as she pondered the question. ‘No,’ she said, sitting in another make-up chair and propping her legs on the arm of Galina’s. ‘I don’t think so. He didn’t sound it, anyway.’
‘Not that you’d tell me if he did,’ Galina grinned, her luminous blue eyes glittering the challenge.
Ula’s answering grin made Galina laugh. ‘He’s furious, Ula, and we both know it,’ she said.
‘He’s concerned,’ Ula corrected. ‘You know how much he hates publicity and he’s worried about how you’re going to handle it.’
Galina turned to look at herself in the mirror. ‘What does he think, that I’m going to start talking about him the minute the cameras roll?’
‘You know what I mean,’ Ula said.
Galina appeared not to be listening as she eyed herself curiously in the mirror. ‘I wonder what it’s going to be like being famous,’ she said.
‘Conspiracy’s gonna put you up there with the biggest,’ Ula assured her.
Galina continued to look at the mirror, though it was evident from her expression that her mind was elsewhere. ‘I wish Max were here,’ she said bleakly. ‘I hate him for going off last night like that.’
‘He had things to do in New York,’ Ula said tactfully.
Galina’s dark, crescent-shaped eyebrows went up as her eyes focused on Ula’s in the mirror. ‘We both know that’s not true,’ she said.
Ula nodded. ‘It is true. There are always things for him to do in New York.’
‘OK,’ Galina conceded, ‘but they could have waited. He’s gone to punish me for accepting this contract . . .’
‘Rubbish,’ Ula interrupted. ‘He’s trying to protect you.’
‘Like I need protecting?’
Ula looked at her with steady, uncompromising eyes.
‘OK,’ Galina shrugged, ‘so maybe I do, but whose fault is that?’
‘It’s no one’s fault,’ Ula answered. ‘Things are just the way they are, that’s all. And Max doesn’t want you to begin your career with Conspiracy surrounded by all the adverse publicity you’d get if the two of you were to go public on your relationship now.’
‘So he’s not using it as an excuse to get out of marrying me?’ Galina said.
Ula’s surprise showed. ‘Is that what you think?’ she said.
Galina’s head went to one side as she considered the question. ‘No, I don’t suppose so,’ she sighed. ‘But there again I don’t know what I do think. I mean, sometimes I’m not even sure if I want to marry him.’ Her eyes slanted towards Ula’s.
Ula was shaking her head and grinning. ‘Not working,’ she said. ‘Even if I told Max what you just said it wouldn’t change his mi
nd on anything. You know what he’s like.’
Galina pulled a face. ‘Don’t I just,’ she muttered, resting her chin on her knees.
She was quiet for a while, lost in her thoughts as she pondered her unusual and extremely volatile relationship with the man she loved above anyone else in the world and who almost totally dominated her life. ‘I still think he should have been here for me today,’ she grumbled, evidently debating whether or not to let him off the hook. ‘Except it’s typical of him to go into hiding the minute the spotlight’s turned on.’
‘Wouldn’t you if you were in his position and they said the kind of things about you that they say about him?’
‘Max doesn’t care what anyone says about him,’ Galina scoffed.
Ula frowned. ‘Why do you think that?’
‘Because it’s true. Max doesn’t care about anyone or anything, except his kids, of course.’
‘And you.’
‘And me. He wants to protect us all because he cares about us, but he doesn’t care for himself. He’s not afraid of anyone or what they say about him. Nothing ever gets to Max. He’s invincible, or hadn’t you noticed?’
‘Not especially,’ Ula responded, knowing very well what was really going on here, for it was Galina’s way to attack Max when she was feeling insecure or nervous or afraid, as she surely must be now.
‘He should have stayed,’ Galina snapped. ‘I don’t care what they say about me so why should he?’
‘There’s not only you,’ Ula reminded her. ‘There’s Primaire and the entire Conspiracy campaign. They’re spending millions, as well you know, so to kick off with the kind of publicity a public confirmation of your relationship with Max would generate wouldn’t be particularly wise.’
‘Stop being so reasonable,’ Galina retorted. ‘I just want to hate him for five minutes, OK?’
‘Then call him up and tell him,’ Ula suggested.
‘Where’s the phone?’
Digging into her belt-bag, Ula produced the mobile and handed it over. ‘Press 3 for his direct number,’ she said.
It rang several times before Galina glanced at her watch and felt her stomach tighten with nerves as she realized he had probably already left to go and watch the video link-up at Primaire’s New York headquarters.
‘Max Romanov.’ His voice came so suddenly down the line that it made her jump.
‘Hello, darling,’ she smiled, turning away from Ula. ‘It’s me. I just called to tell you I hate you. Ula thought I should.’
‘Is Ula there with you?’ he said.
‘Yes.’
‘Then put her on.’
Rolling her eyes, Galina passed the phone over to Ula.
‘Max?’ Ula said.
‘How’s she doing?’ Max asked.
‘Fine. Just fine,’ Ula answered. ‘But nothing’s happened yet. The press are only just arriving and she’s not even dressed . . .’
Galina reached out and grabbed the phone. ‘I could have told you that myself, Max,’ she said tightly. ‘Why do you always have to ask someone else how I am? What do you think, that I lie to you or something? I’m nervous, OK? I’m as nervous as hell and I wish you were here and you damned well should be here. You didn’t have to go out front with me, you could have waited somewhere behind the scenes . . .’
‘Galina, don’t let’s go into all that again,’ he interrupted. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow night, we can talk things through then.’
‘It’ll be too late then. Everything will already have happened then.’
‘Put Ula back on.’
‘No. Talk to me. I’m not a child, Max, nor am I a halfwit. I know what’s going on and I understand why you’re concerned and I love you for being concerned, but I need you here. God knows you deprive me of everything else, so you could at least do me the favour of being here when I’m going into something so big.’
From the silence at the other end Galina knew she’d gone too far. Her heart was thumping as she waited for him to speak, while inside she was debating whether she should teach him a lesson for this. ‘I don’t think you’ve got any idea how important it is to me knowing you’re near,’ she told him miserably.
‘I do know, honey,’ he said, surprising her with the gentleness of his tone when she’d thought she’d made him angry. ‘It’s important for me too. It won’t happen again. Next time I’ll be there for you.’
‘Do you promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘Do you love me?’
‘You know I do.’
‘Say it.’
‘I love you.’
‘I love you too. And I’m sorry I’m being such a brat. I’ll make it up to you when you get back.’
‘You’re darned right you will,’ he said, making her laugh.
‘Do you want to speak to Ula?’ she offered.
‘No. I’ll wait to hear from you as soon as the show is over.’
‘OK.’
‘Good luck, darling. You’ll be terrific, I know.’
‘Yeah. Speak to you later.’ As she clicked the phone off and passed it back to Ula she was about to say something when Verena walked in the door. ‘Can you give us a few more seconds?’ Galina said.
‘Sure. But we’re cutting it fine,’ Verena responded, looking at her watch.
‘A few seconds, no more,’ Galina promised.
‘I’m all agog,’ Ula remarked when Verena had gone. ‘What is it?’
‘My old school friend, Rhiannon Edwardes,’ Galina answered, sending Ula’s eyebrows skywards. ‘I saw some photos of her in Max’s study a few days ago. Don’t look like that, they were on the desk, I wasn’t snooping. Is he having her checked out because of what I did to her or because of what she represents?’
‘Jesus,’ Ula muttered, ‘you sure as hell pick your moments, Galina. What did you do to her?’
‘Nothing much. Well, I suppose it was at the time, but it’s years ago now and . . .’
‘What did you do?’ Ula prompted.
‘I ran off with the man she was about to marry.’
Ula’s eyes widened. ‘Nothing much, she says. Who was he?’
‘A nobody. I can’t even remember his name now. Peter something or other, I think. Or was it Phillip? I don’t know, it doesn’t matter. I just want to know what Max thinks of Rhiannon. Do you think he trusts her?’
Ula shook her head as though something inside it had got jammed. ‘Trusts her?’ she repeated. ‘Where did that suddenly come from? And why should it be an issue?’
‘Trust is always an issue with Max,’ Galina responded. ‘So what do you think? Will he let me write to her?’
‘I’m afraid you’re gonna have to ask him that question,’ Ula answered, looking up as Verena came back into the room.
‘If he does, do you think she’ll come see me?’ Galina said, getting to her feet.
Ula looked at her, trying to keep the disbelief from her face. ‘Well let’s put it this way,’ she said, ‘would you, if someone had run off with the man you were about to marry?’
‘I told you, that was years ago,’ Galina laughed. ‘She’s met someone else now and she probably can’t remember the other guy’s name either.’
‘I’ll put money on it she can,’ Ula commented.
‘OK, everyone,’ Mimi boomed, crashing open the door and marching in like a general at the head of an army. ‘How are we all doing? Galina, let me look at you? Someone get the Queen, her hair needs touching up. Maribeth! Maribeth? You were right there a moment ago . . .’
‘I’m here,’ Maribeth said, coming in through the door with Peggy Wilson.
‘We’re going for the frosted pink?’ Mimi said. ‘Is that what we finalized?’
‘Yes, the frosted pink,’ Maribeth confirmed. ‘Mauve lips are going to make her look like she’s got a heart condition. In fact, try mixing the pink with the pearlized white.’
‘In that dress?’ Mimi cried. ‘She’ll look like a skier at a garden party. But it’s a good idea. It mi
ght work. I’ll try it.’
‘Have you read Louisa Hay’s book?’ Peggy was asking Galina as Verena helped her into the immaculately tailored white silk dress with an over-the-knee pleated skirt and two deep-cut Vs at the front and back. It was stunning in its simplicity and couldn’t have been better for Galina with her white-blonde hair and lovely golden skin.
‘Whose?’ Galina asked.
‘Louisa Hay. She is full of such excellent advice and I must tell . . . No, no, she says not to use the word must . . . I feel it incumbent upon me, Galina, to suggest that you turn to the mirror and look at your beautiful face and tell yourself that you love yourself. I did it this morning to help me overcome my nerves at making the presentation today and it works. I’m telling you, it really works.’
‘Well that’s good, Peggy,’ Galina remarked smoothly. ‘I mean, someone’s got to love you I guess, so it seems like you’ve let the rest of us off the hook.’
The whole room plunged into silence as everyone stared at Galina in disbelief. It had been an unforgivably cruel thing to say when everyone knew that Peggy only ever wanted to make people feel good, even if she did take it a bit far at times. And for Galina to have hurt her now, only minutes before Peggy was about to go on and introduce Galina to the world, was as shocking as it was confusing.
Peggy’s face was ashen as she tried nervously to laugh the insult off. Ula stepped forward as though to offer comfort, then fell back as Mimi looked at Maribeth and Maribeth looked at Galina.
Galina’s eyes were wide with astonishment as she gazed nervously about the room. Then reaching out to Peggy she said, ‘I’m sorry, Peggy. I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out that way. It was supposed to be a joke . . . Oh God,’ she groaned looking helplessly at Ula. ‘Tell her, it was supposed to be a joke.’
‘It’s OK, honey,’ Peggy assured her, patting her hand. ‘I know it was a joke. It’s what you British call irony, isn’t it? And I know we Californians don’t always understand it. I promise you, there’s no offence taken.’
Galina looked at her, wanting desperately to cry for the stupidity that had suddenly come over her and spurred an insensitivity that had, she knew instinctively, put a whole new slant on the way the rest of the team now viewed her.