Exotika 03 - On the Loose

by Tesni Morgan

  “Lunch, I think.” Laurette smiled graciously at Gary and Rosie Denton, owners of this rather rundown semidetached home in the suburbs. “Would you like to come with us?”

  They were over the moon. Lunch with someone as well known as her! It would give them a talking point for years, never mind actually appearing on television! They were sweet and naïve and very much in love. Carenza prayed that this exposure to fame didn’t spoil their relationship. As it was, Gary couldn’t keep his eyes off Laurette and she was playing up to him.

  The firm’s limo swept them off to an eatery frequented by reporters and media people and Laurette let it be known that she was working on another Playhouse setup that would be shown next spring on TV. Gary and Rosie sat quiet as church mice and Carenza tried to converse with them. Laurette went into a huddle with the director and the butch editor of Hi Life glossy magazine. There was no attempt made to draw either her or the couple into the limelight.

  The afternoon was occupied with work and more work as the house was measured, its furnishings discussed, the Dentons’ taste in décor hammered into the ground and their small, though pleasant, garden redesigned to incorporate decking and water features. The couple spent their time flapping around making cups of tea or coffee, while Laurette and Eddie made countless sketches, took photos, were completely enmeshed in their own concepts of how Gary and Rosie’s love-nest should be.

  “One of the upstairs rooms will be the nursery,” Rosie put in timidly at one point. “I’m having a baby soon.”

  “I see. And I thought you were just a little on the plump side. Never mind, dear, it will grow up and be off your hands one day,” Laurette answered pithily.

  “But we’ve planned it.” Rosie looked distressed. “We want children. Don’t we, Gary?”

  “You bet. And this is going to be a wonderful place to bring them up by the time you’ve finished with it, Laurette.”

  “Indeed.” Laurette sounded bored and Carenza was beginning to wonder at the woman’s popularity.

  Off-screen, she was downright rude. This was only one of a series and they all focused on her and her skills. The viewing public loved these programs with their intimate, fly-on-the-wall intrusion into other people’s lives. It was all the rage on TV now. Big Brother is watching you. It made Carenza uncomfortable, hoping that soon she would be able to work on something more worthwhile.

  At last, Laurette glanced at her wristwatch. “Time to knock off. We’ll be back tomorrow with a garden expert and some of the others. Will that be okay?”

  “Yes, that will be fine,” the Dentons chorused, flushed and excited and clasping hands. They’d be on the phone to their mums and dads as soon as the TV people had departed.

  “We’re taking our vacation this week.” Gary had an arm around his wife. “So you can come when you like.”

  Eddie went off in his shabby old car. As he said, it was no use driving anything decent in London, you’d only get it stolen or the tires slashed or the door busted in. Better far to have something that looked scruffy and of no apparent value. The chauffeur-driven limo was waiting to whisk Laurette and Carenza back to the office.

  “Jesus God, these plebs are so tedious!” Laurette stormed in to find David. “I must be a saint to put up with such crap. Little people in their dreary little homes.”

  David cast a cynical look in her direction. “They pay your salary, darling. What did you think of it, Carenza?” He smiled at her in so friendly a way that her heart skipped a beat and then went thundering on.

  “Very interesting. I like the Dentons. They seem sincere.”

  “If they had a brain cell between them, they might be dangerous,” Laurette commented nastily and helped herself to a gin and tonic, with lots of ice and a slice of lemon.

  “Don’t worry. It will be a huge success. You’re always pessimistic at the start of a production. See this one through and I promise the next one will be right up your street.”

  His eyes twinkled as he spoke and Carenza was enchanted. It didn’t matter that Laurette was in a snappy mood and had been unpleasant to her most of the day. She had notes on the laptop and was confident that she had made a good job of it. Later, she hoped to be able to show David. If only Laurette wasn’t around. There was no chance of getting to know him better with her sticking her oar in all the time.

  “Oh?” Laurette sidled close to him and wound her arms ‘round his neck, sinuous as a snake. “And what might that be, sweetie?” He didn’t attempt to free himself. Carenza couldn’t look at them, burning with envy and wishing that Laurette would get on her broomstick and fly away so that she might have him to herself.

  “A plan of my own.” He smiled mysteriously. “An idea I’ve been brooding on for some time.”

  “Don’t tease, David,” she pouted.

  “Impatient!” He scolded her lightly. “By the way, how did you get on with Marty Ryder? Does he like women?”

  Carenza’s ears pricked up. Marty Ryder was the new rock singer and everyone was talking about him. He appeared on chat shows and late-night music spots. Had Laurette really been out with him? But she must be at least ten years older than Boy Wonder.

  “He does indeed. Well, darling, he liked me. Couldn’t get enough, fucking me legless.” Laurette’s voice was languid.

  “So he’s not gay?”

  “He’s bisexual, into the best of all possible worlds.”

  At that moment David’s secretary, a middle-aged lady who looked as if she considered herself indispensable, poked her head ‘round the door. “Matthew Clayburn is here to see you, sir.”

  “There’s a pleasant surprise,” Laurette purred, and his secretary glared at her. No love lost there, Carenza concluded.

  “Thank you, Ruth. Send him in.” David disentangled himself from Laurette’s octopus grasp.

  Carenza began to panic. What was that character doing here? Was it the result of last night’s conversation with David? Or could it have to do with her?

  Matt came in almost at once, filling the room with his size and presence, and it wasn’t a small room by any means. It was as if he strode into the city from miles away on some high, mountainous plateau. His casual apparel emphasized this. He wore leather pants that clung to his thighs, the fly area concealing a substantial package. His torso was covered by a white T-shirt and he was wearing motorcycle boots and a studded jacket. He was impressive and she couldn’t deny it.

  “I left the Harley in your parking bay.” He held a crash helmet under one arm. “Hope your goons keep an eye on it. Wouldn’t like to find out it has been stolen.”

  David assured him it would be safe. “My boys are paid to see that nothing gets pinched. It’s more than their jobs are worth. If any thieving bastards touched my car, I’d be wearing their guts for garters.”

  “Or their balls for earrings.” Laurette smirked at Matt.

  “The security guards or the thieves?” He grinned back.

  “Both,” David and Laurette chorused.

  Matt perched on the corner of the desk, one leg braced to support his weight, the other swinging idly. Carenza couldn’t stop looking at him. This was one hell of a man. Trouble was, she suspected that he knew it and this was off-putting. It was bad enough having David overshadowing everyone, without the supremely confident Matt.

  “So, have you thought any more about our discussion?” David rang for the secretary and when she appeared like magic, as if hovering just outside the door, he said, “Coffee, Ruth.”

  “Yes, sir.” She almost bobbed a curtsey.

  “Yep, I sure have thought about it.” Matt answered his question.

  “And?”

  “Don’t see any problem. It should be a walk-over if everyone does as they are told. You can’t play around with nature or you’ll be in trouble.”

  “What is all this?” Laurette wanted to know.

  “My plan for a super TV show, one that will get the punters steamed up and send the ratings soaring. You know my place in Wales?”
<
br />   “Tretowyn Manor? Sure, I know it. Terribly remote, but okay if you like the big outdoors, fishing and riding and climbing. Not for me, old chum. It’s just too much. The only good part of it is the dungeon. Cool.” In a few well-chosen words, Laurette dismissed it as of no interest.

  “That’s a bit sweeping.” David’s dark brows curved in a frown. “No way to talk about my country seat.”

  “Country bollocks! Anyone would think you were born to it, instead of buying it from some poverty-stricken lord down on his luck. Bet you didn’t pay full whack either, driving a hard bargain and showing no mercy.”

  David leaned across and tipped up her chin so that she could not avoid his hard gaze. His fingers tightened as he said in a tone that held underlying menace, “Despite what you think, you don’t know everything, my sweet. Keep it buttoned until you’re in full possession of the facts.”

  “What’s all this to do with the show?”

  “You’ll see, my dear.”

  Matt seemed impatient to be off, but David delayed him. “As I mentioned last night, I shall use Tretowyn as a base, shoot some footage there, then concentrate on the wilds.” He spread out a map. “Here we go. The manor and surrounding district, the river, the forests, the mountains. A splendid location for my purpose. I’ve told the backers about it, and they agree.”

  “And who are they, may I ask? I wish you’d explain yourself, David,” Laurette demanded.

  “Cougar Ranger Four-Wheel Drive. They think it will boost sales. You know, on- and off-road vehicles, up to all winds and weather. Reliable, sporty, made for the macho man.”

  “I can see that it might work, whatever it is. You still haven’t told me, what’s the score?” Her interest was sharpening.

  “A program about bonding and surviving in the open. You’ll be the chief attraction, Laurette, and we’ll choose several stars and some of our staff to sleep under canvas, bathe in icy streams, shower naked beneath waterfalls. Learn how to live on whatever grows there or can be hunted, maybe appear to fall in love a little. This will excite the audience and keep them watching. Matt will be leader and in charge of the whole operation.”

  She registered horror. “You expect me to act like some bloody Girl Guide, living rough, eating crap, sleeping in a tent? Think again, baby. This is Laurette Upton you’re talking to, not some goddamn rookie presenter.”

  “I know, darling. That’s why it will be such a success. Think of the publicity.”

  Laurette was obviously thinking about it, especially when he added cunningly, “The audience ratings for Playhouse are dropping. BBC2 are running something similar with that good-looking guy, what’s his name? Jason Fuller. You know the one. Dresses like a dandy. All the women are in lust for him.”

  “I know.”

  David spread his hands wide in an expressive gesture. “There you go, and I bet you wouldn’t get him on a survival week. He might break a fingernail.” He swung to Carenza, adding, “I want you to be there as Laurette’s aide. Are you okay with this?”

  “I guess so.” She felt that she was being thrown in at the deep end. “I’d like to come. Thank you.”

  “It won’t be all that bad.” Matt was looking at Carenza, not David or Laurette. “Wales is a grand place at this time of the year. Cold on the mountains at night, but there are sheltered valleys and wooded areas. Plenty of wildlife to see and we’ll be using modern equipment.”

  Carenza admitted that the idea appealed to her. Because her parents had split when she was young and she had no brothers, she had missed out on fishing trips or camping. She may not like Matt much, but had to admit that it sounded as if they would be in safe hands. Her hopes soared as she realized that David wanted her along.

  “And when are you proposing to embark on this lunacy?” Laurette inquired frostily.

  “I’m scheduling it for early September.” David checked his file. “Short notice, I know, but you’ll be clear then, and so will Matt. I haven’t contacted any other celebrities yet. Must do this soon before they go off holidaying abroad.”

  “Seems I have no choice.” Then Laurette’s eyes narrowed as she focused on Matt. “You’ll be there, looking after me?”

  “I’ll be keeping tabs on all of you.” He was noncommittal. “Don’t worry. You may even get to enjoy it.” He turned to David. “I’ve got to be heading out, mate. Catch you later and we’ll get down to details. It should be a gas.”

  “Can I see your hog?” Laurette went over to him.

  “You’re interested?” He seemed surprised, and Carenza was too. Why was a woman who didn’t like camping wanting to examine a motorcycle?

  “Believe it or not, one of my lovers was a Hell’s Angel, name of Spike, leader of the Westville chapter back home. I was his old lady. Ah, the folly of youth.” Laurette smiled mysteriously and Carenza wondered if there was anything on earth that she hadn’t done. Either that or she was the world’s biggest liar!

  “Is that so?” Matt sounded dubious, but said goodbye to David and Carenza and took Laurette down to the parking lot.

  “Another conquest?” David gave a wry smile.

  “For her or him?” Carenza couldn’t help but reply, experiencing a twinge of envy.

  “He’s a canny operator. She won’t get far with him, and she’s the one likely to be hurt.”

  “He’s tough on women?”

  “Doesn’t have much to do with them. Tells me he has to be free. That’s what his work demands. If he had a steady girlfriend or a wife he wouldn’t be able to roam far and wide. He’s a nice guy. Get to know him.”

  David stood up and came toward her, so close that she could smell the fragrance of his aftershave and was oh-so aware of his rangy body under the Italian tailored summer suit.

  “The Wales trip sounds fun,” she faltered, unaware that she had retreated back until her shoulders touched the wall.

  “It will be. Tretowyn Manor is very old, fifteenth century, and there are remains of the original fort in the grounds, dating from the border wars.” He placed both arms either side of her, caging her in, and he was smiling down into her eyes.

  “Oh, yes.” She didn’t know what else to say, too overwhelmed by being alone with him, prey to a flurry of emotions, the chief of which was apprehension.

  For a split second, she though he was going to kiss her, longing for him to do so, yet fearful too. What would happen if he did? Would it be casual or suggestive of a meaningful relationship? She didn’t know what to expect of him.

  He didn’t kiss her. He stood aside so that she could move. “Show me your progress. I want to see what you did this afternoon.”

  She took a chair and placed the laptop on her knees, opening it, booting it up and getting into the program. Ruth tapped on the door. “I’m leaving now, sir.”

  “All right. I’ll shut shop and lock up.” He leaned across Carenza’s shoulder.

  After Ruth had gone, she punched in data, explaining this and that, taking him on a guided tour of the Dentons’ house and garden and surrounding location. She could feel David behind her, smell him, almost taste him and it was difficult to concentrate. Eventually he moved.

  “You’ve done well. That’s enough for now. How about a spot of dinner?”

  “That would be lovely.” She exited the program.

  Careful, warned an inner voice and it sounded like Vicky.

  “I know an Italian restaurant where they serve pasta to die for. You could almost believe you were in Tuscany.” As he spoke, he was tidying the desk, checking security then reaching for his jacket.

  Being with him in the close proximity of the elevator was an unforgettable experience. He was so relaxed and she was tense, trying to think of something conversational that wouldn’t compromise her. His eyes were twinkling and he held her arm at one point when the lift stopped, picking up others on their way home. She was glad they were there, afraid of what she might do if alone with him much longer.

  His car was in the basement. The guard in the cubby
hole came out to check his pass. “Goodnight, sir,” he said, touching his cap as they got in and David took the wheel. Carenza was glad that she had left her car at home, taking the subway to work.

  The sky was darkening, birds circling to find roosts on the ledges of tall buildings or the occasional tree. The river reflected myriad lights, and the traffic was never-ending. People were leaving their working environment or coming into the center for entertainment. London throbbed twenty-four hours a day, a seething metropolis that never slept. It reminded Carenza of an ancient dragon on constant guard over its golden horde.

  Eventually they arrived in a car park. The restaurant was brightly lit and had a Mediterranean ambience. The headwaiter welcomed them. He knew David and they conversed in Italian. All smiles and Latin charm, he ushered them to a table. It was secluded and covered in a red-and-white-checked cloth. David ordered wine and consulted the menu. Carenza just sat there and let him take charge. The bottle was carried in and a measure poured. David sniffed its bouquet, then sipped and pronounced it excellent. His glass was filled, followed by hers.

  “Here’s to a long and profitable association.” As he toasted her, she felt herself sliding deeper and deeper into the amazing power and persuasion of his eyes.

  He selected the food and she was impressed by his knowledge of the language. “You’ve lived abroad?” she ventured to ask.

  “Spent some time there, yes. Italy is my favorite. I love their manners and way of life, and am a bit of an opera buff. Do you like opera, Carenza?”

  “I’m rather an ignoramus,” she confessed. “I’ve never listened to much, but ‘One Fine Day’ makes me cry.”

  “From Puccini’s Madame Butterfly. Excellent.” He laid one of his hands on her bare knee under the table. “I’ll take you to the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. I have a box there. Will you come?”

  “I’ll give it a go.” Her skin responded outrageously to his touch. Her pulse was rapid, and she had the urge to lift her pelvis a little so that his long fingers reached deeper. He took his hand away and the disappointment was acute.