Chasing Dreams

by Susan Lewis

  ‘I say we check out Kernik’s availability first,’ Craig answered, looking at Harry.

  Harry nodded. ‘Sounds cool,’ he said.

  Sandy’s eyes were bright with excitement as she sucked in her bottom lip and looked at them. ‘God, this is amazing, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘I’ve only just done the deal with Prime Targets in Hollywood and already we’re offering one of their clients the lead in a West End show.’

  ‘Let’s just hope they can come up with something equally as good for our chaps,’ Harry commented.

  ‘Precisely,’ Sandy said, sobering for a moment. Then, clicking down her ball-point pen, she started to write. ‘We need to check on the spelling of Kernik,’ she said, ‘it wouldn’t look very professional if we got it wrong.’

  ‘Where’s Nesta,’ Craig said. ‘I thought she was coming in this afternoon.’

  ‘She was supposed to,’ Sandy answered, ‘but she called an hour ago to say she couldn’t make it. She had a heavy date last night that didn’t finish until four this morning.’ Sighing, she cupped her face in her hands. ‘Do you think we should get another assistant? I mean, Nesta’s good, but she’s not very reliable and I honestly don’t think we’re going to persuade her to give up the night job.’

  ‘What about another part-timer?’ Harry suggested.

  Sandy pursed her lips as she thought. ‘We could,’ she said, ‘or,’ she went on, looking at Craig, ‘you could ask Bertie if he wants to join us.’

  Craig spluttered with laughter. ‘Are you serious?’ he said. ‘I thought you couldn’t stand the guy.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Sandy smiled, ‘but he’s good, and you’re busier than the rest of us at the moment so it’s you who gets to choose.’

  Craig looked at Harry, who shrugged.

  ‘Think it over,’ Sandy said, getting to her feet, ‘and let me know what you want to do. Now, I have to go home or I’m going to fall asleep where I’m standing. You were joking, weren’t you, when you said it takes a week to get over jet lag?’

  ‘Takes me ten days or more,’ Harry informed her. ‘But you’ll survive. Just stay up as late as you can tonight.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Sandy responded, stifling another yawn and, leaving them in the grand octagonal room, with its wonderfully high ceiling, newly whitewashed walls and immense bay window, she went back to her own office to collect up her belongings.

  In the end she hadn’t gone with the premises Maurice had found in Chelsea, as he’d come up with these in Mayfair and though they consisted of almost twice the square footage, which was far too big at this stage of the agency, Sandy had been unable to resist one of the smartest addresses in London.

  They were on the second floor of a magnificent Edwardian house which was just off Berkeley Square, not far from the Ritz, and boasted two blue plaques on its double-fronted facade, twin balustraded balconies that overlooked the elegant street below and a huge black front door with a shiny brass number ten, much like the prime minister’s. When there was sun it streamed into the main office, making it a cheerful and welcoming place to work, which was why she had given it to Harry and Craig, taking the smaller, slightly darker ante-room for herself. She rarely worked there, though, for she preferred being outside with the others, not only because she didn’t like being shut away on her own, but because she still had so much to learn and actually didn’t have the first idea how to run an agency single-handed. Just thank God for Maurice, whose accountants were keeping an eye on the books, and for Craig and Harry, who were every bit as much in charge as she was.

  As she went to retrieve the luggage she had brought straight from the airport her heart was swelling with pride and gratitude, and so many other emotions she could barely distinguish them all. She knew it was tiredness that was making her feel this way, but right now she’d love to throw her arms around Harry and Craig for all the support and enthusiasm they had brought to their jobs.

  Sitting down at her desk, she started another quick check of her mail to make sure she hadn’t missed anything vital. She ended up no further than a few letters down before she was staring absently at the two sash windows and doing one of her regular marvels at how far she had come in such a short space of time. In fact, it was incredible to think that she, Sandy Paull of fourteen Fairweather Street and West Green Comprehensive for Girls, could actually be sitting here in her own Mayfair offices, employer of two of the country’s top agents, representative of some of the country’s leading actors, actresses and writers, and the holder of a brand-new exchange representation deal with a big Hollywood agent. It would be so easy for it all to go to her head, but in truth she was as daunted as she was exhilarated by it and knew that were it not for Nesta and Maurice, she would never have had the courage to come this far. And were it not for Harry and Craig there would be virtually no chance at all of it working.

  Looking down at where she had stopped in the mail, she picked up the fax she had already read once and started to read it again. Cosmopolitan had approached her a while ago, asking to do a feature on her and her meteoric rise to success, and this fax contained an outline of the way they saw the interview going. What a scream it was going to be, a photographer turning up on her mother’s front doorstep asking to take shots of their shabby little terraced house, while her brothers and sisters strutted about in their Sunday best and tried to talk posh. It was almost worth going back just to see what prats they made of themselves – and, of course, to show them how it was really done. She wondered what they’d make of her being an escort girl, because that was going to come out in the article too, provided she was willing. Actually, she didn’t much care what her family thought of that and rather than have anyone throw it in her face later, she reckoned it would probably be a good idea to get it out in the open now. After all, she’d never really done anything to be ashamed of and besides, it would probably add something to her cachet. She hadn’t decided yet what she was going to say about Michael, she’d make up her mind about that later, and to answer the question what was her proudest achievement so far, well, she supposed it had to be the deal she had just pulled off in LA, because it was one she had achieved all on her own.

  Indeed, she almost had to pinch herself now to make herself believe that she had actually been on an aeroplane, never mind flown half way round the world to negotiate with some of the industry’s toughest and most devious players. But it hadn’t been so difficult when she’d done most of it by phone, and when Craig and Harry had given her stacks of advice and plenty of names to call up while she was there. In fact she had quite enjoyed the town and wouldn’t have minded staying a bit longer, but she’d managed to get done everything she’d gone there to do – including lunch with Ellen Shelby – and judging by the amount of work that was piling up it really had been time to come back.

  Smiling to herself, she wondered what Ellen had made of their lunch and almost laughed out loud as she pictured the confusion she must have sewn by discussing nothing more than the latest movie releases, the number of commercials on American TV and how brave Ellen was to drive on the freeways. Not a single mention of Michael had passed either of their lips, nor had they made even the slightest reference to the way Sandy had got her own business going. In fact, if Sandy had played this as well as she hoped, Ellen wouldn’t have the faintest idea what the lunch was really about, nor was she going to find out until Sandy was ready for her to do so.

  The feeling of malicious pleasure was soon swallowed into a vacuum of unease and tiredness. She thought of Ellen and how comfortable she had seemed in the shaded courtyard of the Café Roma with Schwarzenegger and his entourage in one corner and Pricilla Presley in another. There had been lots of other stars around whom Sandy had never heard of, whereas Ellen had known them all and most had sought her out rather than the other way round, while Sandy had sat there trying, and no doubt failing, to look cool and unfazed. In fact, just to think of Ellen now, and the classy way she handled herself could make Sandy feel extremely violent towards the woman, espec
ially because of the feelings of inferiority it invoked in her. But a good night’s sleep would probably get her past that, there was just one last call she needed to make before she left which would determine whether or not she went straight home.

  ‘Jodi?’ she said into the receiver a few moments later.

  ‘Sandy? Hi, how are you? I heard you were in LA.’

  ‘I got back at lunch-time,’ Sandy answered. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine, thanks.’

  Sandy paused, as her heart began to flutter with nerves. ‘Is Michael there?’ she finally forced herself to say.

  Jodi was silent, no doubt stunned by the question. ‘Did you say Michael?’ she asked in the end.

  ‘Yes. I’d like to speak to him if I can,’ Sandy replied.

  Jodi’s tone was truculent as she said, ‘Hang on, I’ll see if he’s free.’

  As Sandy waited her hands began to sweat and the terrible butterflies in her stomach were made a hundred times worse by the pounding of her heart. Unless he refused to let Jodi put her through, this would be the first time they had spoken since that dreadful scene in his office when she had disgraced herself beyond measure and he had hurt her so badly. But still not a day, not a single hour went by when she didn’t think of him and want him more than anything else in the world. She understood that it wasn’t going to happen yet, he still had a lot to forgive her for and if things carried on the way they were going there would be a whole lot more to add to that. But there was no reason for her to go through with her plans; in fact, if this call went the way she hoped it would she would bring them to a stop right now, regardless of what anyone else thought, because this wasn’t about success really, nor revenge, nor being famous in her little corner of the world. It was about loving a man whom she would happily give everything to when he finally realized how much he loved her.

  Still she waited, seeing his face in her mind’s eye frowning in the way she knew so well, as he asked Jodi what the call was about. She could see his office, hear his voice, even smell the mixed aroma of the wood, leather chairs and his cologne. For a moment she wished with all her heart that she could be back there now, working for him, seeing him all the time and living constantly with the hope that one of these days he would make love to her again. At the time, living like that had been hell, but it was better than the way she suffered now, never seeing him at all and always knowing that the path she had chosen since he had thrown her out was the very longest route back to him – unless she could manage to alter the course now.

  ‘Hello? Sandy? Are you still there?’

  Sandy’s stomach fell away. It was Jodi, back again. ‘Yes, I’m still here,’ she answered.

  ‘I’m just putting you through.’

  Sandy barely had time to catch her breath before his voice came down the line: ‘Sandy. What can I do for you?’

  He sounded relaxed, not angry at all and the sudden urge she felt to see him almost overwhelmed her. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Pretty good. How about you?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted …’ She hesitated as her courage started to fail, then forced herself to go on. ‘… to wish you a Happy Birthday.’

  She could almost hear his surprise, even though there was nothing but silence at the other end.

  ‘I’ve got a present for you,’ she said. ‘Can I see you, to give it to you?’ As she spoke she was reaching into her holdall to take out a small, turquoise Tiffany bag.

  ‘I don’t think that would be a very good idea,’ he said.

  ‘I think you’ll like it,’ she told him. ‘I mean, it’s nothing much really, I just wanted you to know I hadn’t forgotten.’

  He was quiet again and pain seared through her heart as she wondered if he was thinking about Ellen.

  ‘It won’t take long,’ she said. ‘We can meet wherever you like.’

  ‘Sandy,’ he said, ‘I really don’t know how to say this without hurting your feelings, but …’

  ‘Please, Michael, don’t say no,’ she implored.

  ‘I have to, Sandy,’ he responded. ‘I’m not going to change my mind about us and I can’t accept your present either.’

  The Tiffany bag started to swim before her as her eyes filled with tears. ‘That’s not very gracious,’ she said, attempting to laugh.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he answered, ‘but that’s the way it is. Now, if you’ll forgive me, I’ve got another call coming in,’ and the line went dead.

  It was a while before Sandy put the receiver back on the hook, the disappointment, the shame and the hurt were just too great for her to move. A single tear trickled down her cheek as she took a second Tiffany bag from her holdall and set it next to the other one. A silver paperweight each for Harry and Craig. And as soon as she could pull it off, a shock for Michael that was going to prove far greater than he, his agency, or Ellen Shelby could feasibly survive.

  Chapter 23

  CHAMBERS’S FLINTY GREY eyes were shining with anger as he glared at Michelle across the wide, sunlit expanse of her sitting-room. ‘I can’t believe you would be so stupid,’ he raged. ‘Three weeks I’m gone, and I come back to find this! I’ve told you a thousand times you don’t do anything without clearing it with me first. We’re not trying to earn ourselves hero points here, it’s not some kind of glory trip, we’re trying to save lives and that includes our own.’

  ‘I know that,’ Michelle cried, ‘and I’m sorry. But …’

  He wasn’t listening. ‘Camillo told you to get out of here, he told you what danger you’d be putting everyone in if you stayed, so what do you do? You stay! For Christ’s sake, you’ve got three kids out there, so what the hell are you thinking about?’

  ‘They’re there, aren’t they?’ she shouted back. ‘Nothing’s happened to them …’

  ‘So, what are you doing, hanging around until something does?’ he responded scathingly. ‘Jesus Christ! What’s the matter with you? You’ve probably blown the whole damned thing now, do you realize that? I mean, I might just as well pack up and fly out with you, for all the good it’s going to do me staying here after this.’

  ‘Pastillano knew who you were and what you were doing before I went into the favela,’ Michelle reminded him hotly.

  ‘He didn’t know we were about to get a whole stack of evidence to help promote his demise,’ he shouted back. ‘But he sure as hell knows now, ’cos you went into the favela and advertised it for us. Jesus, how could you have done that? We were so god-damned close! We’d have got that boy out of there. He’d be in a safe house now and once the others saw the witness protection working they might have come forward too. But who the hell’s going to speak to us now, when the kid’s probably already dead and for all we know the old man and his wife too. And what’s more, what’s more, is no one’s seen Antônio since he brought you back here that day, so where the hell is he, would you like to tell me?’

  ‘OK, I fouled up!’ she cried. ‘You can’t make me feel any worse than I already do.’

  ‘You’ll never feel as bad as the people you talked to are going to feel …’

  ‘OK! OK!’ Cavan butted in. ‘Let’s try and calm this down, shall we? The kids are out in the pool and they can probably hear what’s going on.’

  Chambers tore his eyes from Michelle, glared at Cavan then turned angrily away as Michelle looked out into the courtyard where Robbie and Larisa were paddling about the pool on a lilo while Tomasz and Cara attempted to light the barbecue. Noticing that the front door in the perimeter wall was ajar, she slid open the French windows and called out to Cara to close it. Then, after glancing up at the dense green foliage that overhung the courtyard from the street outside, she turned back into the room.

  Chambers was now standing at one of the wide picture windows, almost lost in the early evening sunlight as he stared down the hillside to where the ocean was hurling itself against the rocks below.

  Michelle looked at Cavan, who was perched on the arm of a sofa, and seein
g how angry he was too, despite his attempt to cool things down, she turned to the bar and snatched a bottle from the shelf. ‘Would anyone else like a drink?’ she snapped.

  Chambers looked round, then, sweeping his keys from the table he said, ‘I’m out of here.’

  As he passed her, Michelle longed to grab him and beg him not to go like this, but her own anger and pride wouldn’t allow it. ‘Cavan, why don’t you go too?’ she said tersely. ‘It’s been a long day and I’m sick of the way you’re all twisting the knife in my guilt when you know damned well if I could turn back the clock I would. But I can’t, so I’ll book myself on a flight out of here tomorrow and you won’t have to think about me again. Will that suit you? Will that make you happier, both of you?’

  Chambers didn’t answer as he stepped out of the French windows and headed across the courtyard.

  ‘Don’t drink too much of that,’ Cavan warned as he started to follow. ‘It won’t help.’

  ‘So you’re going!’ she demanded. ‘You’re walking out of here …’

  ‘You just told me to,’ he snapped.

  ‘Then go! What the hell do I care?’

  ‘I’ll stay if you want me to,’ he said.

  She looked at his exquisite face, the incredible blue eyes, the beautiful mouth and inky dark hair. She wanted desperately to reach out to him and feel him with her in a way that needed no words. She longed to lose herself in his love and escape, if only for a while, the dreadful feelings she had inside. But she couldn’t make herself say that and her eyes were suddenly bright with tears as her head filled with confusion and she cried, ‘Why would I want you to stay? I’ve managed without you all this time. So why would I need you now?’

  His face instantly hardened. ‘You’re talking to Michael,’ he said and turning away, he stalked out of the room.