Authors: Joanna Rees
Romy sat in the plush downstairs salon of the power-yacht, drawing her knees up to her chest. Then she covered her face with her hands and groaned.
It was the fourth day of their holiday and so far it wasn’t going well. Nico had been late on their first night, and on the second day, his birthday, they’d gone to the Grand Prix,
which had been fun, but it had rained all day. Caught up in a sponsor’s party, they’d both drunk too much champagne and Romy had come home with a terrible headache.
Then yesterday Romy had been on the date that Bridget had persuaded her to go on with Alfonso Scolari.
‘“I know what my reputation is,”’ Nico continued to read from the front page of the newspaper, ‘“but it’s all been a tissue of lies to protect my real
feelings for this wonderful woman. The last three months together have been the most magical of my life.” Wow, this guy is some smooth talker.’
Romy wailed. ‘Three months? Three months? How could he even say that? I’ve known him for, like, twenty-five seconds.’
‘But look at these photos. Quite the romantic dinner,’ Nico said, holding up the tabloid paper that he lifted from the couch. ‘Holding hands.’ His face was mocking, but
Romy noticed something hurt in his tone. ‘You said it was just a quick pizza.’
‘That was
for a second
,’ Romy protested, standing up and pacing. ‘I can’t believe he’s done this to me. It’s all that girl Bridget’s
fault.’
‘What do you expect, if you get friendly with PR people, Romy,’ Nico said. ‘You can’t trust any of them.’
‘I think we should just get out of here,’ Romy said. ‘Besides, the weather is terrible. So much for sunbathing. My fake tan is all coming off.’ She rubbed her smooth shin
to avoid his gaze.
Nico lifted a telephone and had a word with the captain, who agreed to pull up the anchor and set off straight away, but Romy still felt a pang of sadness that they would be leaving Monte Carlo
so soon. She’d had fun here, despite Nico’s disapproval at her name being in the papers. But this wasn’t about her, she reminded herself – this was Nico’s birthday
holiday. After everything he’d done for her, she owed it to him to give him her time and attention.
‘You’re not cross, are you?’ Romy asked, standing up and touching Nico’s cheek.
He’d lost weight recently and looked tanned and healthy. He stared into her eyes.
‘I just don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all,’ he said.
‘What would I do without you?’ she said.
Nico put his arm around her shoulder and walked towards the sliding doors. ‘Look, the sun is coming out,’ he said. ‘I can’t tell you how much I’ve been looking
forward to this week. I’ve missed you, you know.’
Below them the engines started rumbling and the water churned, as the power-yacht started pulling away. They were going to zip round the coast to Nice, where Martin, Chris and Anna, some of
Nico’s other friends, would be joining them for the last few days.
Nico smiled, but then his expression clouded over.
‘What?’ she asked.
But just then she heard shouting. She turned to look towards the port and saw a speedboat racing towards them.
They both watched as the stylish red boat, with its shiny hull and wooden deck, drew up alongside them. Alfonso Scolari was standing up at the steering wheel, his hair wet with spray.
‘Hi!’ he called, waving to Romy and grinning wildly.
‘Oh my God,’ Romy said, laughing and blushing at the same time. ‘That’s him. He’s here.’
‘I guess he’ll have to come on board,’ Nico said.
He walked back inside to talk to the captain and Romy laughed, urging Alfonso to stay back. He zoomed off in a wide arc, then returned and the crew helped him come-to alongside the yacht.
Throwing a rope to one of the deckhands, Alfonso hopped up on the back platform as if he were stepping onto a kerb, not out of a 200,000-dollar speedboat. He was wearing a loose cotton shirt and
khaki shorts with soft leather loafers.
‘Have you seen the papers?’ Romy asked, as he bounded up the stairs two at a time and joined her on the deck.
‘Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?’ Alfonso beamed. ‘My father has read about us. They are willing to accept me back.’
Romy blew out a frustrated breath. This guy was unstoppable. ‘Great, well, I’m pleased for you, but—’
‘So we have to go there today.’
‘Go where?’
‘To my parents’ place. In Tuscany.’ Alfonso said it as if they’d already discussed it.
Romy stared at him, aghast. ‘I can’t just come with you to Tuscany. I’m kind of busy.’
She noticed Nico standing protectively by her side.
‘I don’t know what you’re involved in here, but if you come with me, Romy, I’ll pay for ten holidays for you and your friend,’ Alfonso said, beaming a wide smile at
them both.
‘It’s not about the money,’ Romy protested. She could afford her own holidays. Besides, hadn’t he noticed the boat they were on? Anyway, this
was
her holiday.
‘One day in Tuscany. One day – that’s all. Then I will bring you back. Once I have made peace with my father.’
He put his hands in a prayer position and looked at Romy and then, sensing a chink, Alfonso appealed directly to Nico.
‘Romy tells me that you are simply friends. Is that the truth? I would not dishonour you, my friend?’
Romy saw Nico blush at Alfonso’s Shakespearean declaration. She stepped in.
‘I don’t think this can work. I mean . . . I don’t know anything about you,’ Romy spluttered, staring wildly at Alfonso and then at Nico.
‘You can learn it all on the way. I will drive you from the airport. I have the plane waiting. It will give us a couple of hours. You’ll have plenty of time to find out everything
there is to know about me.’
Romy laughed at his outrageous suggestion. ‘And then what? I pose as your girlfriend, and you bring me back?’
‘Exactly,’ Alfonso said. Then he clapped his hands together. ‘It’s settled then.’
Then he clutched Nico’s arms and kissed both of his cheeks. ‘You are a true gentleman. I shall bring her back unharmed,’ he said. Then he turned to Romy. His eyes made
something stir inside her, as they had done the first time she’d met him. ‘And you, darling, are my life-saver.’
March 1999
Thea was already late for the reception. In the chintzy suite of Vienna’s grandest hotel she quickly checked her make-up, before growling in frustration. Grabbing a pin,
she wound her hair up into a chignon and fastened it tight. Then she turned around, making sure her pale-yellow dress was done up at the back.
She looked more closely at the mirror, adding a touch more powder to her skin. She looked tired, she knew, but tonight’s gala dinner for the European heads of the major publishing and
media companies was her final chance to meet some valuable contacts, as well as the opportunity to get the last piece in the jigsaw that she needed to complete her report.
This time she knew she really was going to impress her father and make the Maddox Inc. board sit up and take notice. She was so close, she could almost taste the victory that she knew
she’d feel when Brett realized how hard she’d worked. And how much she’d achieved. Enough, Thea hoped, to be considered for her own place on the board. One she knew she fully
deserved.
For nearly four years she’d slogged her guts out. Ever since Brett had exposed her at the
Culture Bulletin
meeting, Thea had been determined to beat him. If his plan had been to
scare Thea off, then he’d severely underestimated her.
At first Griffin Maddox had been furious when he’d heard about Thea posing as Tina Jones in London. Brett’s version of events was that he’d caught her out quite by chance, when
he’d requested photographs of all of Maddox Inc.’s staff for some private project of his. He hadn’t elaborated on what the project involved, but Thea suspected that it had been
exclusively to do with female employees. And there, in the
Culture Bulletin
’s staff line-up, Brett had spotted Thea. A different haircut. A suit. But Brett had seen straight through
that . . . or so he’d said.
Had Brett had some kind of tip-off? Thea still wondered. Had the lawyer she’d used to help change her identity blown her cover? But she’d never know, and now it hardly mattered.
After that awful incident in London, Thea had flown straight to Crofters to confront her father. He’d heard her out, at her insistence, about why she’d done it. To prove that she
could stand on her own two feet. To prove that she was every inch Brett’s match. Without his interference she’d have done it too, without Brett spiking her feature the way he had.
Face-to-face, Griffin Maddox’s fury quickly dissipated into something Thea hadn’t witnessed for a long time: pride.
Then he had give her his verdict. She was fired. From the
Culture Bulletin
at least. After the way she’d spoken to Brett in front of the staff, he had no choice. But he wasn’t
kicking her out of Maddox Inc. altogether, which is what Brett had wanted. Instead he’d surprised her. He’d given Thea an altogether different role.
She’d moved to New York, where she’d been a junior on her father’s troubleshooting marketing team, before being seconded to the European team, where Thea had relished her
chance to shine. She knew that to secure the future of Maddox Inc. they needed to focus their energies on the predicted boom in digital and cable companies in mainland Europe.
And now, after all her time here in Europe, thoroughly researching and squaring up the Maddox alliances, Thea was sure her expansion plans would be a breath of fresh air to her father.
He’d had a tough year, what with the Dow Jones crash last August, from which he was only just recovering, and then all this ongoing business with his friend, Bill Clinton, and that dreadful
Lewinsky girl.
Not to mention Storm, who grew more demanding by the day and was exhausting her father with yet another revamp of Maddox Tower and the renovation of a fifty-acre estate in The Hamptons. Thea had
followed the press on the recent divorce settlement payout to Jocelyn Wildenstein, a friend of Storm’s, who’d been awarded 100 million dollars and thirteen million dollars a year for
the next thirteen years – a verdict that Storm had celebrated with alarming glee. Thea had fantasized for so long about her father leaving Storm, but after the Wildenstein case she could see
how potentially dangerous that could be. Besides, her father still seemed to adore Storm, despite the fact that she looked dangerously similar to the ‘Bride of Wildenstein’ herself
these days. There’d been a photo of Storm and her father in the
New York Times
last week that had made Thea’s jaw drop.
She turned now as the telephone rang next to the hotel bed, quickly fastening her dangling jade earrings, which she’d bought in Switzerland. The Germans she’d met so far were
fastidious about punctuality and it was probably Reicke in the lobby, expecting her.
Reicke Schlinker was the head of the media company Maddox Inc. were about to buy, on Thea’s recommendation. The deal would be announced in the next few months, and Thea was delighted when
he’d accepted the Maddox offer in principle this morning. She smiled to herself, amused and flattered by his obvious attentiveness. She couldn’t deny that they’d been flirting and
it had done her ego the world of good. She felt sad that this would be their last night together.
But it wasn’t anyone from the lobby; it was Sarah, Thea’s assistant, calling from the office in New York.
‘I’m glad I didn’t miss you,’ Sarah said, her Brooklyn accent a blast of familiarity. ‘How’s it going?’
Thea smiled. ‘It’s exhausting, but this is the final day, then I’ll be home.’
She pulled aside the thick brocade curtain and looked through the window. In the evening light the lights along the river twinkled romantically. Once again she wondered where home was these
days. Her rented apartment in New York? The cold, unloved space that she’d hardly spent two consecutive nights in? She must start putting down some roots, Thea decided. Another item for her
long list of resolutions for the new millennium.
‘What are you doing for your birthday at the weekend?’ Sarah asked.
Thea came away from the window and caught sight of herself in the mirror. After what Brett had done to her in Switzerland, she hadn’t celebrated her birthday once in seven long years. And
now she was going to be twenty-eight. It seemed so old, all of a sudden. She wondered what all those girls from school would be doing now. Would they have big careers like her? Or be settling down
to get married and have children?
‘I guess I’ll be on a plane,’ Thea replied. ‘I can’t really think about too much else before I’ve finished my report.’
‘That’s why I’m glad I caught you. You know you asked me ages ago to see if I could find some of your old friends from Little Elms?’
Thea’s heart leapt.
Michael
. . .
She’d been so busy, she’d almost forgotten that she’d asked Sarah to investigate.
Now she gripped the phone with both hands, as Sarah continued. ‘Well, I’ve found one of them.’
Reicke was waiting for Thea in the crowded lobby.
‘You look very beautiful this evening, Thea,’ he said, kissing her hand and looking up at her with his blue eyes. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, she noticed.
‘Thank you,’ she said, smiling back, thinking that he looked great in his impeccable tuxedo. He had sandy-blond hair and freckles, which made him look healthily tanned, and she
noticed a few people looking at them together, as they arrived at the top of the grand carpeted stairway and Reicke held her arm as they walked down into the crowded reception, the hubbub of voices
and the clink of champagne glasses loud in her ears.
‘It feels weird that you’re my new boss,’ Reicke whispered to her and she laughed, enjoying the secret they were sharing.
Usually she excelled at handling events like tonight. She’d taught herself tricks for learning and remembering people’s names and knew how to start conversations with even the most
difficult of businessmen. But as she became embroiled in yet another conversation about whether the turn of the millennium would precipitate a global technology meltdown, rather than simply give
the company line about everything Maddox Inc. had done to protect their databases, Thea found herself tuning out and thinking instead about what Sarah had told her just now on the phone.