by Susan Lewis
“I assume he’s beyond reasoning with?”
“You assume correctly.”
“But you can’t go on like this, Jenneen. You’ll have no life to call your own. No money, no freedom, no peace of mind. You’ve got to get rid of him.”
“Short of murder, nothing else springs to mind.”
Vicky laughed. “Well, he’d deserve it, but I suppose that’s no answer. No, we’ll have to think of something. Somehow he’s got to be stopped. The problem is, how?”
“There’s no point in even talking about it. Believe me, if there was a way out of this, I’d have found it by now. I almost did, until you stopped me. No, Matthew Bordsleigh will be a leech on the Jenneen Grey coffers, until he decides otherwise. And I’m just going to have to accept it.”
“Why don’t you let me talk to him?”
“He won’t listen, and besides I’d rather that you didn’t get involved. He’s a very nasty character, capable of almost anything.”
“It’s funny, but when I saw him earlier, I thought how nice he looked. Attractive, with a certain sort of style, a ready smile. It’s difficult to believe that he’s a liar, a cheat, and a blackmailer.”
“I can assure you he is,” said Jenneen. “And there’s nothing more deceiving than looks. Especially his, and I should know.”
“Well, I’m not going to let it rest there. There must be something we can do, I’ll just have to think of it.”
Jenneen looked worried. “Look, I’ve never discussed this with anyone, not even my closest friends. No one else knows.”
Vicky smiled. “Don’t worry, it’ll be our secret, if that’s what you want. Now, any more Scotch?”
“Sure,” said Jenneen, getting up. As she poured the drinks she was beginning to regret ever having told Vicky anything. She thought back to the day that Vicky had saved her life, and wondered sadly if she would ever reach that pitch again. But that was a silly thing to think. Weren’t things looking up now? Everything had been sorted with Kate, and she was getting her own programme idea off the ground, with the blessings of the company, and under the auspices of Bill.
“I’ve got something to celebrate,” she said, turning back to Vicky.
“That makes a change,” was Vicky’s dry reply.
Jenneen laughed, and fell back into the chair. Vicky was delighted with her news and suggested that they go out to eat, on her.
“Lunch and dinner? I am doing well today,” Jenneen remarked. “I’ll go and change, I can’t go like this, I look a mess.”
“You look fine to me,” said Vicky, arching an eyebrow. “In fact, don’t I recognise that dress from somewhere?”
“Indeed you do. But it’s a bit crumpled, I’ve had it on all day. No offence meant.”
“None taken.”
Jenneen put her Scotch on the table, and got up to leave the room.
“Jenn.”
Jenneen turned back, alerted by the serious note in Vicky’s voice.
“Look, Jenn, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have poked my nose in. It’s none of my business, and I’m sorry, I was only trying to help.”
“Oh Vicky,” said Jenneen, sitting down again. “I know you were.”
“Well, I hope you believe me when I say that it will go no further. If any of this ever gets out, then I can promise you, it won’t have come from me. But I’m glad you told me. As I said before, it doesn’t do any good to bottle these things up. But it’s your life, and you must handle things your way. I won’t mention it again, I promise.”
“Thanks,” said Jenneen. “And I’m sorry if I seemed a bit off.”
“You weren’t. Now, you go and change. I’m starving, and I want to hear all about this programme idea of yours.”
TWENTY-FIVE
It had all happened so quickly Ashley could hardly believe that it was only four weeks since she had asked Julian to arrange it for her. And now she was here, in New York, in Manhattan, and she had never felt so alive. She longed to throw out her arms and spin round and round with the sheer excitement of it all. Already she adored the exhilaration of the place. Everything was so fast, so electrifying, and she, Ashley Mayne, was a part of it. She was no mere tourist, stopping over on a quick week’s holiday – or vacation – she was a real, bona fide citizen of New York. At least, she would be once she had found herself somewhere to live.
In the meantime she was staying in a small, rather English hotel over on the East side, where the people fussed over her and “just loved her cute English accent”.
She had thought that she would be lonely at first and, in truth, if she had allowed herself the time, she probably would have been. She had had five days free before she started work on Madison Avenue, and had crammed as much into those five days as was humanly possible – a bus tour of the city, visits to museums, art galleries and all the tourist sites. The place that gave her the greatest thrill of all was, without a doubt. Fifth Avenue. All those glorious shops – stores – displaying a myriad of riches, from diamonds to furs, and Cartier to Tiffany. She had already opened an account at Saks, and was now toying with the idea of opening another at Tiffany. Not that she could afford to use it, but what the hell, wouldn’t the others be impressed!
She had called home a couple of times, but her mother was so worried about the expense of the trans-Atlantic connection that she always hurried her off the line. Jenneen had phoned twice, and Ellamarie and Bob had called her once too. She had been especially pleased to hear from Ellamarie; she hadn’t seemed herself at all in the weeks leading up to Ashley’s departure, and Ashley had wondered if it had had anything to do with Bob. But Ellamarie had sounded better when she’d rung, and Bob had been with her, wanting to speak too. Hopefully, whatever it was that had been wrong between them, had been sorted now. She had not only received a phone call from Kate, there had been a bottle of champagne and some flowers waiting for her at her hotel when she’d arrived. The card had read: “With all my love, Kate. And mine too, Nick.” Nick’s addition had made Ashley smile, and she had had to admit to a pang of homesickness at that moment. But really, her only sadness was that they weren’t all here to share her new life with her.
On the Friday morning after she’d arrived she called in at the IBM building on Madison Avenue where Frazier, Nelmes had their offices. She received a friendly welcome from a smart and surprisingly middle-aged woman, called Jan, who was to be her secretary. When Jan showed her into her office, Ashley tried very hard not to look as overwhelmed as she felt. It was almost as big as the entire Art Department at Frazier, Nelmes back in London, with a desk of such monumental proportions that she felt faintly ridiculous sitting behind it. At the other end of the room was a small alcove where two leather sofas flanked a marble-topped coffee table. Jan referred to this area as a casual, where less formal meetings could be held, and Ashley noticed a drinks cabinet built into the wall, which, she found when she opened it, was stocked with everything she could imagine, and more.
Later, after Jan had shown her round and introduced her to the heads of every department, she took her along to Conrad’s office, where she introduced Ashley to Candice, Conrad’s secretary. Candice was no surprise. She was exactly how Ashley imagined Conrad’s secretary would be. Chic, sophisticated, and very glamorous. Ashley liked her immediately, and the feeling appeared to be mutual. Candice told her that Conrad was away right now and wouldn’t be back until the end of the month. He was cruising the Caribbean with clients – one of the more enviable functions of the Chairman.
Ashley was secretly relieved that he wasn’t there; she did not relish their inevitable meeting. She was sure that he was deeply resentful of her being foisted upon him by Julian, and was in no doubt that he had probably made the telephone lines to London curl with his opinion of the situation. Still, she would deal with him when the time came.
When she returned on Monday morning, fresh and ready to go at eight thirty, she found that everything had been set up for her. She was quietly impressed by the efficiency of her
department, and most of all of Jan. At ten o’dock she held a meeting in her “casual” of all the Account Execs who could make it, and was pleasantly surprised by their manner towards her. She had expected a certain amount of resentment, hostility even, but she only received friendship, and offers of help; she knew they were all going to get along.
At lunchtime Candice took her to a restaurant called Prima Donna where she proceeded to fill Ashley in on everyone at the agency. Ashley didn’t ask anything about Conrad, and if Candice mentioned him at all it was with a good deal of affection. Ashley was more surprised by that than perhaps anything else so far. She could imagine a lot of feelings one might have towards Conrad Frazier, but affection was certainly not one of them. Still, what Candice felt about Conrad was none of her business; she was here to do a job, and start a new life, and that’s what she aimed to do.
The first couple of weeks flew by, leaving her with hardly a minute to herself. There were so many meetings. She had heard how the Americans liked to meet, but this was beyond anything she had expected. The first ones of the day started at breakfast, around eight in the morning, and continued on and off all day, sometimes until well past midnight, in some club or restaurant.
She found the clients to be a great deal less awkward than those she had come across in England, but in being less awkward, they were far more demanding. Everything had to be done yesterday, and if not yesterday, then last week. It was all go. Commercials were being shot every day; billboards and posters were going up and down all over town; newspapers and magazines were continuously bombarded for the purchase of space, and the Art Department churned out their work with such speed and efficiency that Ashley almost blushed to think of its small counterpart in London. These people certainly knew how to work. And they did, solidly, until the job was done.
All she had to do now was find somewhere to live, but that wasn’t an immediate problem, luckily. Jan helped out as much as she could, and every day she searched the real estate pages to see if she could find something suitable. Ashley was happy to put herself into Jan’s capable hands, as she had no idea where was acceptable for a woman in her position to live. She tried not to shudder every time Jan circled something; it was even more expensive than London. What she kept forgetting was that she now had the salary to afford it.
The end of the month soon came round, and before she knew it Conrad was back. She wanted to get their first meeting over with as quickly as possible, and had expected him to summon her almost immediately, but she was disappointed. He closeted himself with the Financial Director and President for the best part of the week, and then disappeared again.
This made Ashley even more nervous about seeing him than she already was. To have ignored her so blatantly must mean that he was still resentful of her being thrust upon him. Oh well, let him stew in it. She was here now, and he would just have to lump it. She wished her emotions matched her sentiments.
Halfway through her fifth week Conrad finally called her in. She was surprised when the call came from Candice, she hadn’t even known he was in his office. Luckily things were marginally less hectic than they had been up to now, and she felt as able to cope with it as she supposed she would ever be.
Candice was sitting at her desk speaking into the telephone when Ashley let herself into the Chairman’s suite. She looked up and waved Ashley on through, mouthing the words “he’s waiting”.
Ashley knocked on the door and waited. When he didn’t answer she pushed the door open and looked inside. He was on the telephone and glanced up as she put her head round. His eyes moved to the seat at the other side of his desk, so she went in and closed the door behind her. She walked over to the window and looked out at the tiny streets in the distance below.
Whoever Conrad was speaking to, it was not a business call, and she tried not to listen. At last he put the phone down and swung round in his chair to face her.
Immediately she felt like slapping his face. He had that aggravating half-smile on his face and his eyes were quite openly assessing her. It was already more than plain to her that they were going to get along no better now than they ever had.
“So,” he drawled, sounding more American than she had noticed before, “you’ve come to join us, Ashton.”
Her nostrils flared to capacity. “Ley,” she snapped.
“Leigh?” He looked down at a sheet of paper in front of him. “I thought your name was Mayne.”
“It is. And my other name is Ashley.”
“I apologize,” he said. “Come and sit down, I’d like to have a talk.”
At first she made to sit in the chair at the other side of his desk, but he had got to his feet, and was strolling across to the casual at the far end of his office. She followed him over and sat down facing him. Candice came in with some coffee, and as she put it down on the table she winked at Ashley.
Conrad poured the coffee. “Didn’t see you at the wedding,” he said, as he handed her a cup.
She took it, and smiled sweetly at him. “I wasn’t there,” she said, refusing to be baited.
“So, how are you settling in?”
“Very well,” she answered, relieved that he’d changed the subject. “Everyone’s been marvellous, and very helpful. I’m learning the ropes far quicker than I imagined I might.”
“Good. They’re a pretty good bunch. High turnover, of course, not like in London.”
“Most London agencies do have a high turnover.”
“Ah, but not Frazier, Nelmes.”
“No. Not Frazier, Nelmes. Julian seems to instil a sense of loyalty in his bunch, as you call them.”
“But haven’t you flown the nest?”
“I’m still with the same agency.”
“Yes, indeed you are. Incidentally, my congratulations on your speedy promotion.”
Ashley flushed, and as she couldn’t think of a suitable answer, she said nothing.
“Anyway,” Conrad went on. “Julian assures me that I have a gem in you, and so I suppose I have to believe him.”
“You’d better see how I do, before you start believing Julian.”
“Oh, I already know how you’re doing,” he said. “I might not have been here, but I’ve had a close eye on you. And, you’ll be pleased to hear, I’m impressed with what I’ve heard so far. I hope you can keep it up.”
God, this man was so infuriating; she could only hope that contact with him would be limited.
“Have you found anywhere to live yet?”
“So the eye isn’t that close then?”
He lifted a heavy eyebrow, but didn’t answer.
“No,” she said, feeling herself beginning to blush. “No, I haven’t found anywhere yet. Jan is helping me look.”
“Where are you staying?”
“In a hotel.”
He nodded, and with the niceties over, went on to tell her more about the agency and the monthly progress meetings that he held in the boardroom. Ashley listened, and found herself more than once caught by his penetrating eyes. And every time she did, she felt the colour rush to her cheeks. By the time Candice knocked on the door, half an hour later, Ashley was so relieved she let go an audible sigh and knocked her cup over in the saucer. Luckily it was empty. Conrad glanced at her, and she saw that he was amused.
Candice said that Gavin Berkley, the Financial Director, was outside. “Shall I ask him to wait?”
“No,” Conrad answered, getting to his feet. “I’ve finished here. Ask him to come in.”
Ashley stood up. Apparently she was dismissed.
“I’m sure we’ll run into one another again soon,” he said, walking with her to the door, “but I just wanted to say hello, welcome you to New York.”
“Thank you,” she said, surprised. He sounded as though he meant it.
He reached out for the door handle. “How about your social life?” he asked. “Are you getting about much?”
“Enough, thank you.”
The door opened and Gavin Berkley came in, f
ollowed by Candice.
The four of them stood in a cluster at the door. Conrad pulled it wider so that Ashley could get through.
“I’ll have Candice draw you up a list of good swimming pools,” he said, looking at her with a perfectly straight face. “From what I seem to remember, you have something of a liking for water sports.”
Ashley gasped, and felt her face flood with colour. She was aware of Candice and Gavin watching her curiously, but as there was nothing she could say, she attempted a quick smile and swept out of the office.
Without turning on the lights, Ellamarie stomped up the stairs to her flat and threw open the door. She slammed it behind her, then walked into the kitchen and dumped the flowers she was carrying into the sink. Then she went to pour herself a very large brandy. She was furious. Absolutely hopping mad.
Tonight had been the last night of Twelfth Night and everyone was going out for dinner. Everyone, that was, except her and Bob. And where he was now she had no idea, which was probably just as well for him, given the rage she was in.
He had promised that he would be back in time to pick her up after the show. He had had to be at the Colisseum tonight, and then he was meeting Adrian Cowley about the Queen of Cornwall, though he hadn’t told her where, and she hadn’t thought it necessary to ask. He had never let her down before. Maureen Woodley, with a nasty little smirk on her face, said that she’d seen him directly after the performance was over, but where he was now, she was sorry, but she really had no idea. Ellamarie then checked with Bob’s secretary, but she confirmed that Bob hadn’t any other meetings planned for later that night. If Ellamarie had been less angry she might have noticed the secretary’s discomfort.
But if he went back to the theatre as Maureen had said, then where was he now? And why hadn’t he waited for her? It wasn’t as if they’d had a fight earlier, in fact it had been quite to the contrary. They had spent the best part of the afternoon in bed together.
She had waited by the Stage Door for over half an hour, until Nick, who waited with her, said that he really must go. He had to go and pick up Kate, who was staying the night at her flat in South Kensington.