Idol

by Carrie Duffy

  From across the room came bad-tempered muttering, but eventually Sadie heard the sound of Carla’s sheets being pulled back and bed springs creaking as she moved across to finally, blessedly, stop the ringing.

  Being woken quickly hadn’t agreed with Sadie. Before she could even find out who was calling, she felt an insistent, nauseous churning in her stomach. It wasn’t pleasant and she dashed to the bathroom, bolting across the unfamiliar carpet. Hanging over the toilet bowl, there came a gentle knock at the door.

  ‘Sadie?’

  Sadie raised her head. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Um … not great.’

  ‘Oh.’ Carla didn’t sound hugely sympathetic. ‘There’s some girl on the phone for you.’

  ‘Huh?’

  She heard Carla sigh in exasperation. ‘I said there’s some—’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I heard you. What girl? I don’t know any girl here.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Carla sounded as if she was speaking through clenched teeth. ‘She asked for you. Are you gonna take the call or not, ’cos she’s waiting.’

  Something, somewhere, seemed vaguely familiar to Sadie. ‘Yeah, I’m coming,’ she said irritably, hauling herself up from the bathroom floor and flushing the toilet. Wrapping herself in one of the delightfully fluffy and comforting robes, she crawled onto the bed and weakly picked up the receiver.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Sadie? Hi, it’s Brooke! I’m so glad I found you – I didn’t think I was gonna remember your room number ’cos I just have, like, the worst memory, but I found you! So what time are you coming to try out today?’

  Sadie held the phone away from her ear. She couldn’t cope with so much exuberance when she had just woken up, and she’d barely made it past the first sentence. ‘Brooke?’ she repeated in confusion.

  ‘Yeah. From last night,’ Brooke clarified, sounding a little deflated. ‘The Pleasuredome, remember?’

  ‘Umm …’ Sadie squinted across at Carla, hoping she might provide some clue. Carla pursed her lips and looked extremely pissed off. Sadie swallowed. Snatches of last night began to come back to her, the occasional image flitting across her mind like a movie montage. Garish coloured cocktails with Brad and Chad. A strapping transvestite in corset and suspenders. Topless women and then … Oh God, Sadie had a vague recollection of being up on stage herself, giving a steamy performance as she tried to take her clothes off. Shit, that was so embarrassing. And then talking to some stripper … ‘Brooke?’ she tried again.

  ‘Oh, now it’s all coming back,’ Brooke cackled. ‘How are you feeling today?’

  ‘Shit,’ Sadie told her bluntly.

  ‘Oh, that’s too bad. But you’re still coming for the audition, yeah?’

  Sadie fell silent again, dredging the depths of her brain for something to help her understand what Brooke was talking about. She remembered a pink flyer, and Brooke’s excited talk of a new burlesque troupe. Right, like Vegas needed another one of those. ‘Brooke, I don’t think—’

  ‘Sadie!’ Brooke immediately cut her off, and her tone was petulant. ‘But you promised me!’

  Had she promised? Sadie couldn’t remember. Brooke could have told her she’d lap-danced for Barack Obama, and she wouldn’t have known whether to believe her.

  ‘Brooke,’ Sadie began tiredly, wishing the banging in her head would stop for just one second, ‘I’m really sorry. To be honest, I can’t remember what I said last night, but I’m in no fit state to do anything today except crash out by the pool.’

  ‘But you gotta come! You were totally amazing last night. I’ve told Karl all about you, he’s dying to meet you!’

  ‘Brooke, I’m on holiday! I came here to party and to shop and to gamble – not to audition for a show.’

  But Brooke was insistent, and a weak and exhausted Sadie was no match for her tenacity. ‘Look, I know where you’re staying and I’ve got friends who work there who owe me favours. I can get them to evacuate you from your room in no time.’

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ Sadie groaned.

  ‘Because I think you’ll have fun!’ Brooke was infuriatingly perky. ‘I think you’ve really got something, and I think you should meet Karl. Get yourself in a cab and get over here as soon as possible. You still got the flyer I gave you?’

  Sadie checked her purse. ‘Yeah, I’ve got it.’

  ‘Awesome! See you in an hour.’ Brooke hung up.

  Sadie rolled over, burying her face in the blissful softness of her warm bed before letting out a long, low moan. ‘I think I have an audition,’ she told Carla.

  ‘I know, you wouldn’t shut up about it last night.’

  ‘Really?’ Sadie sat up, worried by Carla’s tone.

  Carla nodded then walked over to the windows, flinging the curtains wide open to let the bright light flood in. It was almost midday and the sun was high in the sky. The weather was glorious; in the distance the heat shimmered over the mountain tops.

  ‘Aargh,’ Sadie cried out. She fell back onto the bed, shielding her eyes dramatically. ‘Please help me,’ she begged. ‘I can’t do this alone. Help me, Carla.’

  Carla sighed. ‘I’ll ring room service and order a large pot of coffee.’

  ‘And a round of toast?’ Sadie asked hopefully, raising her head to smile winningly.

  Carla rolled her eyes as she picked up the phone.

  ‘Hey, you wanna come with me today?’ Sadie suggested, brightening at the idea.

  ‘Oh no. No way. This is your mess. I’m going to sit out by the pool and catch me some rays.’

  ‘Really supportive, thanks,’ Sadie muttered, as Carla grinned sweetly and ordered breakfast for the two of them.

  Paul Austin stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in his office, staring out at the city. It was late evening and the buildings across the capital were illuminated, a stark contrast to the blackness of the night sky. Far below him the streets were empty – most of the office workers had gone home, and the area was deserted.

  The bleakness matched Paul’s frame of mind. He was not in a good mood. He’d been taking it a little easy at work recently, taken his eye off the ball, and the chief exec had noticed. Paul reported directly to William Davis-Wright, the CEO of Willis & Bourne, a ruthless, results-driven guy who left you alone as long as you were performing but savaged you if you weren’t. Paul had been called in to discuss the productivity of all those long lunches and external meetings he had been taking, all on the company expense account, naturally. He hoped the meeting would have been kept quiet, but the gossip network in this place was notorious. William’s PA, Anna, was on the phone the second he left the office, the loose-lipped bitch. And now the sharks would be circling; any one of those on the office floor was just waiting for the chance to take his office and his position.

  Paul exhaled sharply as he watched a single droplet of rain make its way down the polished glass. It was true that he hadn’t been performing well recently, but he was sure it was just a temporary glitch. Paul had the Midas touch when it came to investments. Everyone knew it. He knew it and William Davis-Wright knew it. He just needed to rediscover it. Sure, he’d gone in for some high-risk deals recently, but how the hell was he expected to keep making returns that blew the competition out of the water if he didn’t?

  At least that silly slut Sadie had stopped phoning him. She was the reason he’d spent so many afternoons away from work; the reason he was deep in the shit now. It had been fun while it lasted, but these things had to end, surely she realized that? And boy, had she gone out with a bang …

  Oh yeah, she’d been hot, Paul smiled, allowing himself a moment to remember that perfectly flexible body, the way she’d been instantly responsive with fire in her eyes. There’d certainly been a buzz when he’d posted that footage online, with other users falling over themselves to download it. It gave him an intoxicating rush of power, an almost sexual thrill from knowing he could film the girls without their knowledge while he dominate
d them completely, then put it out there for the whole world to see. Sadie had been one of his best yet. She’d been eager to please, up for anything.

  But he was a married man – there was no way it could continue. He’d never promised her anything, never shown any signs of commitment. So what the hell did she think she was playing at, ringing him repeatedly, leaving hysterical voicemails? He knew she’d been calling the office too, but Angela had dealt with her. Paul smiled. Maybe he should give his PA more credit – she was always good at getting rid of the women who were bothering him. Now this one would just crawl back to whichever hovel she came from, like the rest of them.

  Allowing himself a satisfied smile, Paul turned back to his computer. What the …? His jaw tightened, the muscle above his left eyebrow pulsating with anger. That fledgling finance company in Qatar that he’d thought was such a good investment – the whole fucking thing had gone under. Paul smashed his fist on the desk so hard that the framed photograph of his children toppled over. He’d invested thousands in that. Jesus, why did this keep happening to him? Quickly, he checked his client portfolios. They were looking pretty awful. Fuck, he was down on nearly every transaction.

  Paul glanced quickly round the office, looking for a way to vent his anger. His gaze landed on the crystal tumbler on his desk. Snatching it up, he threw it as hard as he could against the far wall. It shattered into jagged pieces, the crash eerily loud in the silent building.

  Paul slammed his hands down on the desk, bending over as he tried to slow his ragged breathing. Almost instantly there was a knock at the door. ‘Mr Austin?’ asked a worried voice. ‘Is everything okay?’

  It was Angela. She opened the door a crack and peered in. ‘I heard a noise …’ she explained awkwardly.

  ‘Angela.’ Paul collected himself. ‘I didn’t realize you were still here.’

  ‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘I always stay until you go home, just in case you need anything.’

  ‘Right.’ Paul exhaled slowly, digesting the information. ‘That’s very dedicated.’

  ‘I am very dedicated,’ she assured him. Her eyes were wide, her voice breathy.

  Paul watched her with amusement. She couldn’t have been any more obvious if she’d lain down naked on the office floor and spread her legs wide open.

  ‘Is everyone … Is there anyone else around, Angela?’ he asked casually.

  ‘I think this floor’s empty, sir,’ she murmured, her gaze downcast. ‘You and I are the only ones left.’

  Paul could feel his pulse racing, the adrenaline still pumping from his earlier fury. He knew of one certain way to subdue his rage, something guaranteed to distract him from his problems.

  ‘Come in, Angela,’ he told her. She stepped inside and saw the smashed glass, her mouth falling open in shock.

  ‘What happened? Should I clean it up?’

  ‘Not now,’ Paul shook his head. ‘Don’t worry about it. Close the door behind you.’ Angela did as she was told. ‘Lock it,’ he commanded.

  Angela clicked the lock, her cheeks flaming.

  ‘Good.’ Paul seemed pleased, his blue eyes glittering dangerously. ‘Now come over here, Angela.’

  Angela gazed up at him, her heart thumping. They both knew she would do anything he wanted.

  Slowly, she began to walk across the office towards him.

  17

  Sadie staggered through the door of The Play Rooms wearing enormous dark sunglasses and clutching a Starbucks. She’d been surprised to see a long line of girls outside the building, all super-groomed and dressed to the nines. The queue snaked round the block, and Sadie had had to sweet-talk the guy on the door, using Brooke’s name to jump to the front. Seeing the way some of the women were dressed, Sadie began to wish she’d made more of an effort. She hadn’t brought any dance gear to Vegas, so she was wearing a pair of black leggings over which she had layered a couple of vest tops. On her feet were silver flip-flops; she planned to dance barefoot. The look was casual but sexy, showing off the curved lines of her slim figure.

  Inside, the club was spectacular. The overhead lights were on, but it must have looked amazing at night, Sadie realized. It was decorated in shades of chocolate and burgundy, giving it a dark, decadent feel. The seating was low, plush red velvet with dark wooden tables and beautiful silver lanterns to hold candles. Gilt chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and every wall was decorated with huge mirrors framed by crystals that sparkled in the light. It was like being in a very glamorous boudoir. As Brooke had said, it was in a different league to The Pleasuredome: sexy, sophisticated and intimate. Sadie was impressed. This was much bigger than the seedy strip show she had expected. She began to feel a little nervous.

  ‘Sadie!’ Brooke screeched as soon as she saw her. ‘You came!’

  Sadie gave her a little wave, then walked across the room to introduce herself.

  The set-up looked like a TV talent show, with Brooke, a short bald guy she assumed must be Karl, and a woman she didn’t recognize at all, sitting behind a long table. Piles of notes, résumés and headshots were stacked up in front of them, and they each sipped from a can of Diet Pepsi.

  ‘So this is the famous Sadie Laine,’ Karl commented, in his nasal San Francisco accent, as Sadie shook his hand. ‘I hope you’re as good as your reputation,’ he sniped, and Sadie wasn’t entirely sure whether he was being friendly.

  ‘Just ignore him,’ Brooke told her. ‘He’s the bitchiest queen around.’

  Even sitting down, Sadie could tell that Karl Madison was not a tall man. In fact, he was all of five foot five, but what he lacked in height he made up for in acidic put-downs. He was as lean as a whippet and dressed immaculately with a real sense of flair. A self-confessed star-fucker, Karl was as camp as they came but was a total pussycat behind the tigress exterior.

  ‘How’s your head, darling?’ he yelled loudly in Sadie’s direction.

  Sadie made a noncommittal gesture, hoping he wasn’t planning on doing any more shouting.

  ‘Oh, I heard all about it. Your reputation precedes you my dear,’ he drawled smugly, before introducing the attractive black woman beside him. ‘This is Desiree Jones. She’s an amazing choreographer and we’ve worked together many times over the years. I adore her vision,’ he told Sadie, ‘And I trust her judgement implicitly. It’s almost as flawless as mine.’

  Sadie and Desiree shook hands, then Karl said, ‘Okay, show me what you can do. Astound me.’

  ‘But … I don’t have anything prepared,’ Sadie faltered, immediately forgetting all of her training. The first rule of auditioning was that you never said no.

  ‘Are you wasting my time?’ Karl asked sharply, narrowing his eyes.

  ‘No. I’m on holiday. I don’t have my music with me,’ Sadie retorted stubbornly, wondering why she had even bothered to turn up. This was all a big mistake. Brooke had made it sound fun and casual, but it was clearly more serious than that.

  ‘Maybe she could freestyle,’ Brooke suggested, looking worried. She’d gone out on a limb to get Karl interested in this girl, and she didn’t want him to think she was stupid.

  ‘Okay,’ Karl agreed with a theatrical sigh. ‘Desiree, could you put on some music?’

  ‘What style do you want to see?’ asked Sadie, as she put down her coffee and kicked off her flip-flops.

  ‘Whatever you prefer,’ Karl said magnanimously.

  The music started and Sadie could have laughed out loud at the irony; it was Feel It by Jenna Jonsson.

  Karl noted the look on her face. ‘What’s the matter, Miss Sour Puss? Don’t you like the music? Jenna’s one of my favourite clients, I totally adore her.’

  ‘You’re Jenna’s choreographer?’ Sadie burst out. Great. This was just totally fucking perfect.

  ‘You want to discuss it or you want to dance?’ Karl shot back.

  His attitude fired up Sadie with the adrenaline she needed. She could have walked out, but she knew there were five hundred girls outside who would kill for this opport
unity. Despite everything, she still couldn’t fight her competitive instincts. Defiantly, Sadie began to move, feeling herself get into the rhythm of the song. She’d always tried to avoid listening to Jenna’s music, but she couldn’t deny that the beat on this was hot. Desiree turned it up loud so that the building throbbed, as Sadie broke into hip-hop. It was her favourite style so she concentrated on that, but she sexed up her moves, giving it pace and attitude.

  After a minute or so, Karl signalled for her to stop. ‘I want to see how you take choreography,’ he said, his face giving nothing away.

  ‘Okay.’ Sadie ran her hands over her hair, smoothing back the loose strands. She hadn’t had time to dry it properly before she left, so had just pulled it back in a ponytail.

  Karl got up from behind the table and ran over a short routine with her. It had strong elements of burlesque, and was different to anything that Sadie had ever done. To her surprise, she found herself wanting to do well. Karl was clearly an amazing dancer, undeniably dedicated to what he did, and she wanted to please him. There was a tricky section in the final eight, where the steps were fast and complicated. Sadie gave it her all and began to break a sweat.

  Finally Karl stood back and it was left to Sadie to perform alone. She knew she had to step it up a notch, and she made sure her moves were clean and sharp, that she made it her own. Her face expressed everything she was feeling; she was intense, strong and passionate. Most of all, she was enjoying it.

  Karl was clapping along with the music, keeping pace, unable to stay still as he bounced from side to side. He kept up a constant stream of encouragement and direction. ‘Yes, that’s it, give me attitude, give me sexy … Work it girl, you look hot, hot, hot … I love it!’

  When Sadie finished she felt elated. She’d been good and she knew it. She assumed the audition was over, but then Karl unexpectedly asked if she could sing.

  ‘Sing?’ she repeated dumbly.