Idol

by Carrie Duffy

  But although her appearance had been transformed, her head was clearly elsewhere. In her skinny jeans and pink corset top, a pair of chicken fillets rounding out her nonexistent breasts, Amber was half-heartedly running through a series of poses, thrusting out her chest and butt in a way that was clearly intended to be sexy. It didn’t work. The moves looked forced and unnatural. When she looked into the camera lens, her eyes were glazed.

  Annie stood behind the computer screen, watching the shots come up as they were taken. The more she saw, the more worried she became.

  ‘Okay, take a break everybody.’

  Amber staggered off the set, while Deanna and Ken ran in for touch-ups. Dan Markovic, the renowned fashion photographer, headed over to Annie.

  ‘What do you think?’ she asked, biting her lip nervously.

  Dan eyed the screen critically. He scrolled through a few shots, zooming in as he adjusted the contrast, adding a little density. Annie watched him as he worked. He was in his thirties, sandy-haired and attractive.

  ‘It’s not working,’ Dan said ruefully. ‘I’m really sorry, Annie. I’m doing my best.’

  ‘It’s okay, I know it’s not you,’ Annie said. Her voice was tight, as it always was when she was angry. ‘We can’t use her, can we?’

  Dan shook his head. ‘It’s not looking good.’

  They both glanced across to where Amber was huddled against the wall, crouched over her handbag.

  ‘Wait a minute, what the …?’ Annie marched over. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ she yelled. The room fell silent immediately as the crew turned round to look at them.

  Amber hastily wiped her face with the back of her hand, streaking a white trail across her upper lip. She sniffed hard, struggling to focus on Annie. Then something snapped.

  ‘Get the fuck away from me, you ugly bitch. Leave me alone! What are you, some kind of fucking lesbian? Piss off, you fucking chinky dyke!’ Amber was out of control. She began to pull things out of her handbag, grabbing anything she could and launching it at Annie. The tirade of abuse continued as the contents of Bloomingdales’ cosmetics hall rained down on Annie, half a dozen Juicy Tubes whistling past her ears followed by a Touche Éclat that met its target. Amber was screaming and shouting, utterly off her face.

  ‘Get out!’ Annie roared. ‘Get out now. I’ve had enough. Someone get her the fuck out of my face before I kill her. You’re fired,’ she added, unnecessarily.

  ‘You can’t fire me,’ Amber rasped, her eyes narrowing into slits.

  ‘Too late, sweetheart, I just did.’ Annie was livid.

  Suddenly all the fight seemed to go out of Amber. She shrugged, sinking onto the floor as she half-heartedly gathered a few of the things that were scattered around her. If she didn’t have to work today that meant she was free to do what she wanted – go back to bed, go to a party, score some coke, get laid.

  ‘Whatever.’ Amber picked up her practically empty handbag and staggered out, leaving a stunned silence behind her.

  Jenna watched the white-tipped waves break on the Hawaiian shoreline, crashing onto the sand and pounding against the rocks. Further down the beach a group of surfers revelled in the choppy conditions, expertly riding the huge swells. The day was overcast but warm, the billowing clouds spectacular as they blew in off the sea and rolled over the lush green mountains beyond.

  Jenna and Phoenix had flown out to Kauai after the Vegas show at the request of their record company. The response to ‘Without You’ had been incredible. Immediately after the performance, radio stations across the country had been flooded with requests to play the single as fans demanded to know when they could buy it. The record company had been somewhat caught out – they’d planned the Vegas gig as a teaser, with the song being rolled out a few weeks later amid a massive publicity campaign. But, due to overwhelming demand, it was put onto iTunes the day after the concert and looked set to top the midweek charts on downloads alone. The problem was that the music channels weren’t playing it. The rush release meant MTV had no video and a visual image was essential, so the trip to Hawaii was hastily arranged.

  The concept for the video was simple – just the band and their instruments, barefoot in the sand with the beautiful island backdrop. Each band member had filmed individual scenes and Jenna’s had taken place in the heart of the rainforest. She looked like Tarzan’s mate in a barely there skirt and clinging top, slashed to reveal the tanned, glistening flesh beneath. Her hair was wild, her face streaked with camouflage stripes, as she writhed against a tree and crawled, cat-like, through the undergrowth, fixing the camera with a seductive gaze.

  Today was the final day of filming and they were working on the group scenes. Jenna was in full rock-chick mode, dressed all in black with heavily kohled eyes and nude lips. They were resetting the cameras for the next take, so she had retired to her cabana. It had been an early start that morning and she was eager to grab a break.

  Jenna lay on the soft day-bed, absentmindedly twisting her engagement ring on her finger as she stared unseeingly at the stunning view outside. The ring was enormous, a five-carat princess-cut diamond surrounded by no less than twenty-four smaller stones, on a platinum band. As yet, there was no wedding ring nestled beside it.

  Jenna still couldn’t say what exactly had caused her to change her mind at the Chapel of the King – so many issues had been circling in her head, resulting in a pretty serious case of cold feet. To Nick’s credit, he hadn’t pushed for an explanation, but she could tell he was annoyed. He’d shrugged and told her not to worry, that everything was cool, but it seemed pretty obvious it wasn’t. The easy intimacy that had existed between them had vanished. They’d gone from being so loved-up that anyone in the same room as them felt like a voyeur, to stilted conversation and a sexual restraint that would have made the Puritans look like party animals.

  On their first night in Kauai, Nick had proposed again – privately this time – and presented Jenna with the ring he’d bought before they left Vegas. She’d squealed with excitement at the sight of the huge diamond, but as he slipped it on her finger she was struck by a sense of oppression, an inexplicable sensation of being trapped. Her fingers had swollen in the heat and the ring’s tightness was constrictive, the sheer weight of the thing weighing her hand down. She had to keep taking it off whenever they were filming and she was terrified of losing it. Nick had already kicked up a fuss about her removing it in the first place, demanding to know why she couldn’t leave it on for the video. He said he loved her, that he wanted the whole world to know she was his. Sometimes she wondered if he was more in love with the idea of Jenna Jonsson than he was with Jenna herself.

  She shook her head, trying to dispel the thought as she stared out of the open cabana to the glorious beach. The crew were swarming about, rigging up cameras and lights. Then Nick strolled into her line of vision. He was still some distance away, by the water’s edge, and he had his back to her as he looked out over the blue-green sea. Jenna watched him, feeling her stomach contract with a fresh stab of pain. He looked breathtakingly handsome, with his tanned skin and his blond hair lightened by the sun. She wished everything could go back to how it was before, but she didn’t know how to do that. It felt like the damage to their relationship was irreparable.

  As Jenna watched, one of the girls on the production team approached him. She was a runner, so way down the food chain. The girl skipped up to him, tossing her long, dark hair as she presented him with a glass of fruit juice, lavishly decorated with a paper umbrella, sparkler and glittery straw. She was a little younger than Jenna – probably around eighteen – and very pretty. She wore sports shorts and tennis shoes that showed off her long, slim legs and a tight little T-shirt outlining her small breasts. The girl was giggling excessively, hanging on Nick’s every word, and Nick was loving the attention.

  He took a sip of his drink and Jenna saw them laugh about the garish decoration. Then Nick removed the paper umbrella, tucking it behind the girl’s ea
r as she bowed her head and blushed. He smoothed down her hair, his fingers brushing her cheek in a shockingly intimate gesture.

  Jenna blinked in astonishment. She felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach.

  ‘Five minutes, Miss Jonsson.’ An assistant appeared in the entrance to her cabana.

  ‘Thank you,’ Jenna managed to reply. When the assistant moved, Nick and the girl had gone.

  She shook her head, telling herself that she was being ridiculous, that she was overreacting to something harmless. Nick was a natural flirt, she knew that. He wanted to marry her, Jenna thought fiercely, not that silly slut out there, throwing herself at him because he was in a band. It was pathetic.

  Jenna’s phone began to ring and she jumped guiltily, as though caught doing something she shouldn’t. It was Sadie. They’d been speaking every day, exchanging progress updates.

  ‘Jenna.’ Sadie’s voice was different; Jenna could hear it immediately.

  ‘Has something happened?’

  ‘We’ve got him,’ Sadie declared triumphantly.

  ‘We have?’ Jenna exclaimed, all thoughts of Nick forgotten.

  ‘I contacted his PA. She emailed me a few pages and it’s dynamite. Names, dates, contracts – copies of everything.’

  ‘Sadie, that’s amazing.’

  Sadie smiled in satisfaction. She’d worked damned hard on this, and she was pleased Jenna had acknowledged that. ‘But she’s reluctant to give me any more. Something’s holding her back – I don’t know what – but I’m sure I could persuade her face to face.’

  ‘Face to face?’

  ‘I’m flying out tonight. My plane leaves in two hours.’

  ‘What do you need me to do?’

  ‘Can you come too? I’m sure it would make a difference.’

  ‘You really think this woman can get that kind of information?’

  ‘It’s our best shot. Think about it – she works with him, she has access to all his files, knows who he’s meeting and when. I just think if the two of us were there together – and with you being who you are – she’d help us. There are all sorts of rumours on the Internet, whispers about the soundness of his deals, accusations of fraud and insider trading. She could get us all the proof we need. Can you fly back?’

  Jenna thought about it. It sounded crazy, but this could be the best chance they had. She hadn’t come up with anything else – hell, she hadn’t done anything, she realized guiltily. ‘Sure,’ Jenna agreed. ‘Filming finishes tonight. It’s Zac’s birthday, so I need to show my face for a couple of hours, but I’ll leave as soon as I can.’

  ‘Fantastic. Once we have everything, we can confront him.’

  ‘Don’t do anything until I get there, will you?’ Jenna asked, a note of panic in her voice. She wasn’t going to miss her chance of seeing the smug expression wiped off that creep’s face.

  ‘No way. We need to do this together,’ Sadie agreed. If she could just get a little more information from Angela Lee, Paul Austin would be annihilated. He’d lose everything – his job, his reputation – and one call to the Serious Fraud Office should see him locked away for a very long time. Sadie didn’t feel the slightest pang of guilt as she contemplated it. That bastard deserved everything he got.

  ‘Thanks Sadie.’

  ‘No problem,’ Sadie said lightly. Then her voice hardened. ‘I want to make sure he loses everything. He’s going to be destroyed. And I want him to know that we’re the ones who did it.’

  31

  The sound of laughter rang out across the dark Hawaiian beach, which was illuminated by torches and a giant bonfire on the sand. The hotel had thrown a traditional luau in honour of Zac’s twenty-fifth birthday, and the party was well under way with the band and crew anticipating a wild night. Tables piled high with food and drink had been set up on the beach as the guests sat barefoot, the sensuous feel of the sand between their toes as they ate. Beside them a band played Hawaiian music as two beautiful local girls in grass skirts and leis danced dreamily, swaying their hips to the music. Later there would be hula and limbo competitions, but Jenna would have left before then.

  She picked at her food, unable to relax. The island was beautiful at night, truly a paradise as the moonlight reflected on the water and a warm breeze blew gently through the pineapple trees. But Jenna was far too tense to appreciate its loveliness, thinking about the confrontation that lay ahead. She had been imagining the moment when she and Sadie came face to face with Paul, and hoped she could refrain from slapping him across the face. She badly wanted to do that; her fingers itched at the thought.

  A waiter appeared behind her and tried to refill her wine glass, but Jenna declined. She wanted to be clear headed when she arrived in London. She could sleep on the plane, but there was no way she wanted to feel hungover when she woke up. She needed her wits about her for this meeting.

  As the guest of honour, Zac was sitting at the head of the table, and Jenna had been seated to his right. They’d been getting on great during this shoot, and she was surprised to find how happy that made her. Unlike Nick, who’d been desperate to get into her pants since the first time he saw her, she felt as though she’d really had to work to earn Zac’s respect. It was a good feeling.

  His brow furrowed as he saw her refuse the drink. ‘Aren’t you celebrating my birthday?’ he teased.

  Jenna smiled as she turned to him. He looked the most relaxed she’d seen him in a long time, sitting easily in his chair drinking a beer, his light grey shirt open at the neck.

  ‘I have to leave tonight,’ she reminded him. ‘I’m flying back to London.’

  ‘So early?’ Zac raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I have some … business to attend to.’

  ‘Shame,’ he said lightly, his eyes never leaving her face. Jenna shivered, although the night was balmy.

  ‘Are you cold?’ Zac asked in concern. Jenna was wearing just a plain yellow sundress, its simplicity highlighting her natural beauty. Her shoulders were bare, her skin exposed. In a completely impulsive gesture, Zac leaned towards her and, with exquisite gentleness, trailed a finger along her forearm. Jenna inhaled sharply. Electricity was coursing through her whole body and her skin felt like it was burning. It was as though he’d slashed her arm with a razor blade – every cell had burst into life.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she managed to breathe.

  ‘I can ask them to bring you a wrap.’ Zac’s voice was low, his gaze intense.

  ‘I said I’m fine,’ Jenna snapped, pulling her arm away. Heart pounding, she turned to Nick beside her, hoping the familiar presence would calm her.

  Nick was already roaring drunk, having worked his way through the best part of a bottle of Jack. They were barely halfway through the main course and already his cheeks were red, his words slurred.

  Jenna felt his hand clamp on her leg, his fingers crawling teasingly along her inner thigh, but he didn’t turn round. He was deep in conversation with the runner from earlier – Hailey. She was American and spoke in a breathy, little-girl voice as she told Nick earnestly how she really, really wanted to be a singer.

  ‘You should be a model,’ Nick slurred. ‘You could be. You’re really beautiful y’know.’ He raised his voice deliberately, his hand sliding higher up Jenna’s thigh as he spoke. ‘The most beautiful girl here tonight.’ She knew he was getting off on it, playing the two women against each other. Fuck this, Jenna thought. She needed to get out of there.

  She stood up sharply so that Nick’s hand smacked the underside of the table. That got his attention. He yelled in pain.

  ‘I’m leaving,’ Jenna told him icily.

  Nick was struggling to focus. ‘Going? Back to London, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jenna replied through clenched teeth.

  Nick seemed unconcerned. ‘Cool. I’ll see you in a couple of days.’

  Don’t bet on it, thought Jenna furiously, as she stalked off across the beach. She had packed her case earlier – all she had left to do was shower, chang
e, then get the hell out of this place.

  Back at the table, Zac clenched his fists in fury. He’d witnessed the whole exchange and couldn’t believe the way Nick was behaving.

  ‘That was out of order,’ he told him, his voice low with repressed anger.

  ‘What did you say?’ Nick turned to him slowly.

  ‘You just treated Jenna like crap. Go after her.’

  ‘What the fuck is your problem …?’ Nick rose unsteadily to his feet, stumbling towards Zac. For a second, it looked as though Nick was going to knock him out, but suddenly he smiled, slumping back down in his chair.

  ‘Don’t worry about me, buddy,’ he began, his voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘Maybe you wanna sort out your own problems first.’

  ‘What the hell are you—’

  ‘Baby!’

  Zac whirled round as he heard an all-too-familiar screech behind him. Amber threw her skinny arms around him in an ostentatious gesture, covering him with kisses. ‘Look at you all having your little wrap party!’

  Her voice was loud. People were turning to look, nudging others as they realized who it was.

  ‘Amber, what …?’ Zac let the question hang. ‘I didn’t know you were coming,’ he finished coldly.

  She looked a mess. Some of her extensions had come loose and were hanging at odd angles. Her make-up looked as if she’d slept in it, and she was completely overdressed in a one-shoulder sequinned mini that hung loosely from her emaciated frame. In a blinding moment of clarity, Zac realized he didn’t feel anything for her except a sense of embarrassment.