by Victoria Fox
But sitting through lunch with Cosmo Angel was a summit she could not climb.
‘I’m not feeling great,’ she told Donna Cameron that morning. ‘Can we postpone?’
‘Not really,’ came the curt reply. ‘This is the only opening you have.’
‘I think I’m contagious.’
There was a pause before Donna said, ‘Turquoise, what’s up? You’re never contagious. Come to think of it, you’re never ill. I can’t remember the last time you got sick. What’s going on? You’ve been lukewarm about this project since the start. Is it Cosmo?’
‘No,’ she cut in. ‘Of course not.’ She felt tangled in a web of lies. It was too late to back away; the decline would mean too much, the sacrifice of her future. My little star…
‘Then help me out.’
Every excuse was a weak one. She had changed her mind. She wanted to focus on her music a while longer. She didn’t feel ready, despite the role Sam Lucas described in London having her name written all over it. Only the truth could save her, and in the same blow spell total destruction. She had been abused and degraded and forced to endure untold suffering at the hands of Cosmo Angelopoulos, and it had all come to a shattering head when they had buried a young corpse in the desert one night…one dark, lonely, terrible night…
Now he had her trapped all over again.
‘It’s OK.’ The words took all her strength. ‘I’ll grab a coffee, see if that sorts me out.’
‘Good girl. Il Cielo, one o’clock.’ The line went dead.
His wife was with him. She hadn’t expected that.
When Turquoise entered the bustling restaurant it was with a mixture of distress and relief that she spotted Ava Bennett rising to meet her. Ava looked lovely in a pale shift dress, her silky white-blonde hair secured in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. It was impossible to imagine her in bed with Cosmo. Had he grown out of his perversions? He must have.
‘Hope you don’t mind me coming along.’ Ava grinned. ‘Only this is so exciting! When Cosmo told me you were on board I couldn’t believe it…’
‘Turquoise.’ Sam Lucas stood to kiss her on both cheeks. ‘Gorgeous, as always. Come and sit down. We’ve ordered champagne.’
Cosmo didn’t stand. She was aware of his dark, brooding presence and the conflict of wills she had known would take place. To anyone else just a few seconds; to her an unspoken stalemate. Cosmo still saw her as a seventeen-year-old whore getting screwed on all fours by anything he set her up against. It didn’t matter how famous she got. She was still that girl.
And he wouldn’t deign to speak to her first.
‘Cosmo, a pleasure to see you again,’ she said hollowly. He got to his feet, an amused smirk on his face, and leaned in to kiss her. His lips hit the skin by her ear lobe, sending a grisly chill racing down her spine.
‘You’re glowing.’ His black eyes flashed. ‘Who’s the lucky man?’
‘Exactly what I said!’ trilled Ava, but she waved him down all the same. ‘Come on, don’t embarrass her.’
‘I’m not embarrassing her. Am I?’
‘Never.’
‘Sam, did you bring a copy of the script?’ asked Donna, lifting her champagne for a toast. ‘To the best screenplay and the best cast we’ll see all year.’
‘Well, I’ve got a little news on that front.’ Sam shifted eagerly in his seat, like a boy on the cusp of revealing a secret he knew he shouldn’t. The celebrated director had recently made a controversial comeback with the release of Lana Falcon’s movie Eastern Sky, whose Vegas premiere had been overshadowed by scandal. Insider accounts suggested the ensuing publicity whirlwind had made Sam feel invincible, and his behaviour, at times, erratic.
Donna didn’t like surprises. ‘Oh?’
Turquoise liked them even less. Across the table, Cosmo slid her a smile. It was the same smile he had greeted her with all those years ago at the door to his home, whispering of all the wicked things he wanted to do to her…Her heart dropped to her toes.
‘Cosmo’s been working on a script,’ said Sam, barely able to contain his excitement.
‘Congratulations,’ said Donna politely. ‘What does that mean for us?’
Turquoise knew exactly what it meant. Ava caught her eye and winked. So this was the script she had told Turquoise about that time they met up in New York, the one Cosmo was keeping close to his chest. The one about the murder…
‘I read it at the weekend,’ enthused Sam, leaning back as a waiter came to refill their glasses, ‘and I gotta say it blew my socks off. This guy’s penned a masterpiece.’
Cosmo lifted his shoulders in mock humility and Ava rolled her eyes affectionately. ‘Wise up, baby,’ she crooned, ‘you know it’s good.’
‘We didn’t want to say anything before now because it wasn’t in the can,’ continued Sam. ‘But, if you’re game, we’d like you to take a look at this script instead.’
Donna frowned. ‘What about the movie you talked to us about? What about Gloria, the singer who gets her revenge? That’s what sold it to Turquoise.’
‘Cosmo wanted it to be a revelation. Right, buddy?’
Cosmo took a long slow sip of the champagne and watched Turquoise over the top.
‘You’ll like this character even more,’ he said.
‘You can’t change the game like this, Sam,’ pressed Donna. ‘I don’t care if Cosmo’s come up with a magnum opus, it’s not the project Turquoise and I agreed to.’
Their orders were taken, allowing time for the tension to be dispelled. Turquoise felt Cosmo’s eyes on her and feared that if she tried to speak only a dry rasp would come out.
‘Just hear the pitch.’ Sam gestured for them to be calm. ‘I know it’s not what we talked about and I appreciate that comes as a shock. However, as a movie written by and starring Cosmo Angel it spells a fortune. With Turquoise on board? Gold dust. I know you’re going to fall in love with it just as much as I have. Cosmo, over to you.’
‘You mean I finally get to hear what it’s about?’ teased Ava.
Donna glanced at Turquoise and gave her an imperceptible shake of the head. Don’t worry; we’re not consenting to anything.
Turquoise wanted to close her ears. She wanted to run and hide. She wanted to be anywhere else on Earth but here. Cosmo doesn’t give a shit about consent.
‘The story’s simple,’ explained Cosmo, never once taking his eyes from Turquoise’s face, ‘as all the best stories are. You play a girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Momma gave her up, Daddy’s long gone and the only person she can rely on is herself. She gets in with the wrong crowd, experiments with drugs and before she knows it her life’s a wreck. Penniless, she’s struggling to make ends meet. But, and this is the thing, she’s gorgeous. The kind of girl guys want in their bed; the kind of girl they leave their wives for; the hottest body on the west coast with a smile and a pair of tits to die for. She embraces a life of vice.’
‘Hang on a second,’ interrupted Donna. ‘You want Turquoise to play a hooker?’
Bastard. Heartless, merciless, cold-blooded bastard.
‘Is that a problem?’ challenged Cosmo, playing with her like a kitten on a string.
‘Hear the rest,’ Sam cut in. ‘I promised you an empowerment story and that’s what you’ll get. Not for one second would I assume this wouldn’t be a challenging role for Turquoise and that she’d have to dig deep…’
‘Real deep,’ echoed Cosmo.
‘But it’s that same rawness that will showcase Turquoise’s considerable ability.’
‘Go on, darling,’ urged Ava. She smiled reassuringly at Turquoise, but since she herself hadn’t had a clue what the script was about must have suppressed her misgivings.
‘She becomes romantically involved with a client.’ Cosmo patted his chest with one tanned, long-fingered hand. ‘Me.’
‘Isn’t this Pretty Woman?’ Ava joked weakly.
‘Hardly,’ snapped Cosmo, before correcting himself. ‘It’s darker.’
/> Sam nodded. ‘Much darker.’
‘They become involved in a killing,’ said Cosmo, ‘a very violent one. A minor dies while in their care.’
Turquoise thought she would be sick. In their care?
‘They vow never to speak of it again. My character goes on to become a successful businessman, and yours grows into, of course—’ and here he spread his hands wide, like the magician revealing his trick ‘—an acclaimed singer.’
‘Victory against the odds,’ Sam put in, delightedly.
Cosmo smiled, baring his teeth. ‘They go their separate ways, only my character can’t forget. Yours pretends not to know him, forgetting the nights they spent together.’
‘Surely she loathes him.’ Turquoise spoke for the first time. ‘He was a job, after all.’
‘That’s where you’re mistaken,’ Cosmo replied, running a finger across his chin, ‘because this man taught her the ways of the world. He taught her to be strong, and resilient, and to toughen up; and those same things led to her becoming the star she is today.’
Bullshit! she wanted to cry. Total and utter goddamn bullshit!
Was it a joke? It had to be a joke.
Donna smoothed things over. ‘Perhaps we ought to take the script away.’
‘I want to hear what happens next,’ Turquoise said. ‘Go on. What happens next?’
Cosmo’s gaze never wavered. ‘What do you think happens?’
Their food was brought over. As the waiters deposited the plates Donna leaned in and murmured, ‘Let’s hear them out, OK? We don’t have to decide now.’
‘I’ve already decided. I’m not doing it.’
‘We should read it first. This could be an opportunity, Turquoise. Sam Lucas, you and Cosmo Angel, the fact it’s his brainchild—’
‘This looks delicious!’ Ava exclaimed.
Cosmo speared a hunk of white fish with his fork. ‘While she pretends not to care,’ he resumed, ignoring his wife, ‘that’s only a mask. This woman’s conscience is secretly killing her. She might have millions in the bank, fans across the globe, all she’s ever dreamed of…but she can’t sleep at night. And, in spite of herself, she can’t forget his touch.’
‘This is meant to be enlightened?’ Turquoise threw at Sam. ‘She wouldn’t give a crap about this guy, other than despising his guts. For God’s sake—!’
Donna put a hand on her arm.
‘This is the blackest point of the story,’ said Sam. ‘Come the end the couple resolve to go to the cops because it’s the only way of clearing their conscience. But through it all your character realises that the past ten years of her life…’ He turned to Cosmo. ‘It is ten years?’
Cosmo seasoned his frites. ‘About that.’
‘The past ten years of her life have been defined by this event, and the only person to have shared that with her, however inadvertently, is this man whom, as you rightly say, she’s spent so long resenting.’
‘Resenting?’ Turquoise objected. ‘She was whoring for him, by definition he’s a vicious sonofabitch!’ She knew she was losing it but she couldn’t contain herself.
Ava put down her cutlery. ‘Perhaps we should talk about something else.’
‘No, no.’ Cosmo raised his hand. ‘She has a point. But tell me, Turquoise, have you ever found yourself in that position?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I think we’ve heard enough,’ said Donna.
‘Let her answer the question.’ Cosmo wiped a dip of oil from the corner of his mouth.
Her voice was ragged. ‘How dare you even ask?’
‘The reason I do,’ continued Cosmo smoothly, ‘is to illustrate that we, leading our lives, can’t possibly imagine what goes on behind closed doors.’
‘Speak for yourself.’
‘Prostitutes aren’t all dirty money-grabbing whores, are they?’ He was daring her, baiting her. ‘They’re ordinary women trying to make ends meet.’
‘And the men who sleep with them?’ she asked tightly.
‘Aren’t all vicious sonofabitches, as you put it. Our characters fall for each other. This is a romance that turns conventional notions of love, how men and women should meet and what the rules should be, on its head.’
‘At the same time as commenting on our preoccupation with celebrity.’ Sam took up the baton. ‘Can money buy freedom? Can success take you so far away from a crime that you can forget it ever happened? Can love survive under desperate circumstances? You’re two of the biggest stars there are—scratch that, you’re the biggest. By taking on these questions you’re holding a mirror up to your own lives. And the answer’s sure gonna pack a punch.’
Silence. Donna turned to her. In her manager’s eyes Turquoise saw a splinter of approval and it frightened her to death.
‘We’ll consider it,’ said Donna swiftly.
‘I was hoping for an answer now,’ ventured Sam. ‘We want to get rolling as soon as possible. Turquoise is our number one; she always has been. Cosmo even wrote a lot of it with her in mind, isn’t that right, Cosmo?’
Like a lizard he drew the food from his knife. ‘That’s right.’
Turquoise met Cosmo’s stare. In a rush she was back on his bed, tied at her wrists and ankles, naked and vulnerable. That stare spoke of ultimate supremacy. She was a toy, and he her master. He would do with her however he pleased.
‘What’s your gut tell you?’ Sam urged.
It told her she was done for.
‘Let them think about it.’ Cosmo returned to his meal, spiking his food and carving it leisurely. It was part of the fun, to keep her dangling like a worm on a hook, just how he liked it. It turned him on. Did Ava not notice?
‘It’s meant to be,’ he concluded with the killer Cosmo Angel smile. ‘We’ll be here when you’re ready to say yes.’
18
Robin was back in London for a video shoot. They were filming for her fourth single ‘You Win’ and had closed off an area by Tower Bridge. Crowds were gathered on the Southbank to catch a glimpse of the star.
‘Ready to go?’ the director called as Robin stepped out of her robe.
With the majestic bridge in the background, historic seal of the capital with its twin golden strongholds and sky-blue suspensions, Robin’s venture was deliberately grass roots. Her American tour was less than two months away and she had been advised to remind fans where her priorities lay, plus the legacy of the summer Games meant that for the first time in a while the city was pervaded by a tentative patriotism.
Her track pumped up and Robin fell into step with ease. Even when drowned out by the recording, she preferred to sing: her face didn’t move right when she was miming.
‘Why does it have to be a competition? What are we fighting for? Baby, this is my extradition, and still you’re wanting more…’
Every few lines they would stop and take it again, stop and take it again, until she and the director were satisfied. It was exhausting, repetitive work, characterised by fits of faltering rain during which Robin and the crew would shelter under enormous umbrellas and glance beseechingly at the sky. Each time they did, fans hollered for her—’Robin! Over here! We love you!’—and she’d wave back, driving them nuts, while thinking how weird it was that these people were standing around getting wet just to watch what had to be one of the most drawn-out and uneventful video shoots in history.
Afterwards she had three hours of back-to-back interviews lined up at a nearby hotel. No encounter was ever quite the same. From an earnest inquisition with a Sunday paper about the sentiment behind her new single, to a fun glossy mag piece where she spilled her make-up secrets, it never got boring. Robin loved all the people she got to meet, and the easy conversation they fell into as soon as they realised she wasn’t a bitch who was going to sit there scowling and worrying about what angle they were getting her at.
The car arrived at six to pick her up. Barney was accompanying her to the evening’s premiere at Leicester Square, a Brit action film in which Robin’s fri
end had a supporting role.
They pulled up at the Odeon ten minutes later, Barney trying to be chilled but covertly checking his phone every five seconds because he had fallen out with his boyfriend and they were meant to be going to Barcelona at the weekend. The theatre was plastered in ginormous billboards and sweeping purple lights. Outside an army of fans huddled against the cold.
Robin received a rapturous reception as she stepped from the car and waved to her supporters. Her Grecian Versace drape dress was a stunning vision in grey lace, a departure from her usual urban style that was both sexy and sophisticated.
‘Robin, can we get just a second of your time? Can you tell us about your tour? Is it good to be back in England?’
Barney steered her along the line, politely declining the queue of waiting microphones and journalists begging for a word.
Inside, the foyer was teeming. Barney peeled off to fetch them cocktails, just as Robin scanned the room and landed straight into the gaze of Leon Sway. It was like walking into sunlight. He raised a hand in acknowledgement. She ignored him.
‘Robin, hi, great to see you.’ She was joined by one of the judges from her series on The Launch. Barney came back with the drinks and the three of them chatted, Robin trying not to steal glances in Leon’s direction, and feeling the heat of his gaze whenever his eyes fell on her. With him was Jax Jackson. Even from this distance she could sense the friction between the men. Jax was donning a gold tie, his victory statement clear, and puffing his chest out like a prize peacock. At least the cock part was accurate.
‘Are we going in yet?’ The idea of sitting in a dark room and switching off from all social interaction was appealing. The day had taken it out of her.
‘Another one of these and I’m there.’ Barney held up his empty glass. ‘Anyone else?’
‘I’ll go,’ Robin offered, heading to the bar.
She’d just had time to collect the drinks when a voice at her side said:
‘Hey. You never called.’
She was struck by how crisp his scent was, nothing like aftershave, nothing chemical, just a clean skin smell. He was warm, and the fabric of his suit jacket soft, grazing against her bare shoulder. She hadn’t stood this close to him before and realised how much shorter than him she was, the top of her head only just meeting his throat.