‘You?’ he repeated, smiling. ‘Why?’
Topaz pictured the look on Rowena’s face when she found out. The first blow would be bad. The second would finish her off.
They were quits.
She could forget about Rowena, and get on with her life. ‘Just because,’ she said.
‘No, it’s OK, Andrew,’ Rowena said, ‘I understand. Business is business.’
Her knuckles were white with fury, gripping the phone. ‘I’m afraid not,’ she replied. ‘I called my chairman already. We can’t match that kind of money. No, I have no hard feelings. 55o Music is a great label, you’ll do fine, and I wish you well.’
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It was true. She didn’t blame the manager, not for a second. It was his job to get the best deal for the act and she
knew she’d have done exactly the same thing.
‘I should have moved faster,’ she said.
Rowena replaced the receiver and stared towards Seventh
Avenue. Topaz Rossi was in one of those buildings.
The phone went again. ‘Gordon,’ she said. ‘Would you care to explain to me what the fucking hell is going on?’ snapped Josh Oberman.
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‘I guess that’s everything,’John Aitken said.
‘Thanks,’ his editor told him. ‘Richard Gibson’s real pleased with the story, John. There’ll be a rise for you in this.’
‘I hope so,’ he replied with feeling.
‘Fax me the final draft at home, could you?’ she asked. ‘I
want to see it as soon as it’s done.’ Her long fingers were
absentmindedly rolling a tennis ball round on her desk.
‘OK,’ he said, ringing off.
Topaz surveyed her empty office.
‘Bullseye!’ she said.
.It was autumn in Manhattan, and Rowena was still surviving. Just. After the Velocity fiasco, only one thing had saved her from recall to London; Barbara Lincoln and Michael Krebs had both insisted she stay and be put in charge of the album launch for Heat Street. It might be a Warners record for North America, but it belonged to Musica for the rest of the world, as Krebs pointed out to Oberman.
‘She needs to find a band, Michael,’Josh told him.
‘I know,’ Krebs said. ‘She will.’
A week later, Rowena found Obsession, a talented rap act
from Brooklyn, and signed them, very quietly.
After the deal was done, she sent a tennis ball over to American Magazines, for the attention of Ms Topaz Rossi, with a note attached: ‘Thirty-fifteen.’
‘I’m impressed!’ Barbara said.
‘So you should be,’ said Rowena.
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Josh Oberman didn’t say anything, as he was calculating the exchange rate of dollars to pounds and wondering if this would get him promoted. One more album like this, and they’d make him President for Life.
‘Hi, this is Alex Isseult on MTV News,’ said the stunning brunette on the limousine TV, smiling at them engagingly. ‘Britain’s newest supergroup Atomic Mass are rumoured to be planning a huge launch party for their debut album, Heat Street, at Madison Square Gardens in New York. A spokeswoman for Musica Records admitted that they were waiting for a go-ahead from city authorities. Atomic Mass, currently enjoying their second number one single with “Trapped”, will be issuing free invitations at dates on their sold-out US tour, which follows earlier supports to the mighty Guns n’ Roses.’
She paused to give them another dazzling smile.
‘Heat Street will receive its first-ever playback at the stadium, arid fans attending will also he issued with vouchers entitling them to a discount when they buy the album …’
‘Can I believe my ears?’ asked Oberman in theatrical disgust as the car glided past a huge billboard proclaiming THE ATOMIC AGE BEGINS 2 NOVEMBER ‘You can’t do that.’
‘Why can’t I?’ asked his Managing Director defensively.
‘Because it’s a carbon copy of what Burnstein and Mensch did to launch Metallica’s last record.’
‘So?’ said Barbara impudently. Tve always believed in learning from the masters.’
‘Look, Lincoln,’ began Oberman, who’d gone pale, ‘you- ‘
‘Calm down, Josh, I asked for permission,’ Rowena said soothingly.
The old man visibly relaxed.
‘Mensch said, if I wanted to be totally fucking unoriginal it was fine by him.’
‘Metallica didn’t sell twenty trillion copies because they threw a launch party at Madison Square Gardens,’ Barbara “
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pointed out. ‘It sold twenty trillion because it was a phenomenal album.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Josh and Rowena in unison.
‘We’ve done two million in firm pre-sales, Josh,’ said Rowena. ‘Firm, not shipped. I have point-of-sale in stores across the country and two independent promoters on the album. I have radio promos and competitions in four key markets for November. We’re taking print ads, radio ads, MTV ads…, marketing spend is huge.., the whole thing is huge. It has to launch in style, and that was still the best idea anyone ever had …’
‘OK, OK,’ said Josh, throwing his hands in the air. ‘Do what you like.’
‘This album will sell itself,’ Barbara insisted.
‘Fine. We’ll cancel the marketing budget,’ grinned Rowena as Barbara glared at her.
Rowena had Press type up a list of the international TV and radio stations and magazines that were being flown in for the Heat Street launch and faxed it to the Musica affiliates around the world. It was four pages long, excluding ,American media. She copied Michael on it; he called her back almost immediately.
‘I want you to know that I’m proud of you,’ he said. ‘You really did good here, Rowena.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied, suffused with pleasure.
‘I really mean it,’ Krebs insisted. ‘You’re one of the best I’ve ever seen.’
‘They wouldn’t have happened without you:’ ‘Sure they would. Maybe not so big,’ he conceded. There was silence for a moment.
‘I want to be with you,’ Krebs said gently. ‘Can I come round tomorrow?’
‘I would love that,’ said Rowena.
She stared at the phone for a few seconds, luxuriating in happiness. For these infinitely rare moments of tenderness and affection she lived and died. She loved him so hard, so fiercely,, perfectly aware he didn’t love her back. He had
never pretended to. She ought to leave him. God only knew she’d tried.
The first time had been a big deal, maybe because Rowena assumed Krebs would respect her wishes. They’d been together in Dublin, checking out a new band, and after some of the hottest sex she could remember he’d started talking about his wife. Feeling his insensitivity like a kick to
the stomach, Rowena stood there and told him it was over. ‘We’ll talk about it in the morning.’ ‘No we won’t,’ Rowena said, her voice thick with the pain gathering at the back of her throat. ‘I never want to see you again.’
‘Never?’ Krebs asked, propping himself up in bed on one elbow.
Rowena felt as if some sadist was performing open-heart surgery on her without an anaesthetic.
‘Never!’ she managed, tears trickling down her cheeks. ‘Come ba,k here,’ Krebs said, but she ran away from him, barely reaching her own room before collapsing on to the bed. It was anguish,, it was torture. For all he was a sonofabitch, the thought of never being with Michael again was sheer agony. She had to sit on her hands to stop herself calling his room and telling him she’d changed her mind. She sobbed for three hours, and cried herself to sleep.
In the morning, she got up early and checked out. The stewardess on board the Aer Lingus flight asked her if she was feeling ill. Rowena said no and refused all food and drink. She thought about Mi.chael Krebs every second of the five-hour flight home.
She’d lasted a week and lost half a stone, hardly eating, hardly sleeping. Getting through each day was like running a marathon. Krebs was her first thought in the morning, her last thought at night. After three days, relentless sexual
longing started to mix with the misery.
And then he’d called.
‘This has gone on long enough. You can’t still be mad at me,’ Michael said.
Rowena was dumbstruck. ‘You think this is funny?’
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‘Absolutely,’ Krebs said firmly. ‘I’m just gonna laugh at you, Rowena. All this angst…’
‘Angst?’ she spluttered. ‘I hate you!’
‘You hate me now?’
‘Yeah,’ she said sullenly, trying to ignore the flood of limitless joy that had surged through her at the sound of his voice. ‘And you’re never gonna sleep with me again?’
No I m not.
‘That’s a shame,’ Krebs said softly.
Lust swept a long, lazy, feathery caress right across her body.
‘Is it OK if! reminisce, then? Because I have to tell you,
I’ve been thinking about it …’ ‘No …’
‘About Sweden. Remember that? I enjoyed that, Rowena.’
Sweden. Christ. He’d grabbed her by the nape of the neck and shoved her, belly down, across the desk in the hotel room. The lamp and all his papers had gone crashing to the
floor. She’d come so many times that night she’d lost count. ‘Shut up, Michael.. ‘
‘How did my cock feel, Rowena? Do you remember that?
Sliding into you? You were so hot it wasn’t even funny.’ She stifled a gasp. ‘Fucking shut up, Michael …’ ‘You’re gonna have to hang up on me.’
‘I can’t hang up on you. You know that…’
‘If I was there now, we wouldn’t be talking. I don’t know, I might start with your breasts this time. I keep thinking about your nipples. They’re so sharp when you’re turned on… You know what I’d like to do? I’d like to lick them for a couple of minutes and then put a hand in between
your legs. Then you could tell me how much you hate me.’ ‘No.’
‘Yes. Yes. You know, baby. You could tell me how you couldn’t stand me while I was stroking you. I’d be real gentle, you wouldn’t even know I was there. Probably wouldn’t notice me lifting you up and pulling you down on
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my cock. I’d fuck you very, very slowly. Deep thrusts. Give you time to say whatever you’ve got on your mind. How about that? I mean, you hate me, right? Having me fuck you right in front of a mirror so you could watch it
going in, that wouldn’t make any difference …’ ‘Michael!’
‘Don’t tell me you like that idea.’
‘Stop this.’ Her stomach was contracted. Her whole body was shaking with desire.
‘No. I won’t. Because I know what’s happening to you.’ She couldn’t speak.
Tll be there in five minutes,’ Krebs said firmly, hanging up.
Rowena had never forgotten it. By the time he arrived, she was so racked with lust she couldn’t stand up. When Krebs walked through the door and saw what he’d done to her, he pushed her up against the wall and took her where she stood, jtst unsnapping her jeans and shoving into her.
She’d tried to walk five or six times after that. But Michael wouldn’t hear of it, and his sexual hold over her was absolute.
The American Magazines tower was buzzing. Gowers and the rest of the board had called an emergency editorial meeting.
‘Are you sure we can run with this?’ Jason Richman demanded.
Tm sure. Our lawyers have gone through it with two fine-tooth combs,’ Topaz assured him
‘How are you spreading it?’ Joe Goldstein. Cold and businesslike.
‘Over three issues initially. Maybe m6re to come, we’re still digging.’
‘Why don’t you wait for the whole thing?’
She glared at him. Every damn meeting the guy tries to crucify me, she thought.
‘Because I don’t feel we can sit on this for even a day. It’ll be leaked.’
22I
‘I agree completely,’ Nathan snapped. Goldstein must be out of his mind. The story was so hot you could fry eggs on it.
‘They’re right,’ Matt Gowers said, with an air of finality. Goldstein flushed slightly. Gowers added, ‘We’ll need a bigger print-run for the third and second issue.’
He turned to the meeting. ‘It only remains for me to congratulate Topaz Rossi. You all know that most of the time American Magazines is in the business of great features, not breaking news, so it’ good to see that we can handle that properly too, when the need arises. You also know that White Light has been lagging in the music press market. I think this could be the solution. So Topaz, well done indeed.’
The meeting broke into applause, although she noticed angrily that Joe Goldsteinjust shuffled his notes instead. As everyone left to get back to their offices, she grabbed him by the arm.
‘What?’ he snapped, shaking her offwith an expression of distaste.
‘Look, Joe,’ she said patiently, ‘I know we’ve had our differences but - ‘
He cut her off. ‘Oh, spare me the “can’t we be friends” spiel,’ he said coldly. ‘We work for the same company. That’s about the extent of it. Now if you’ll excuse me - ‘
‘What’s your problem?’ shouted Topaz, losing her temper.
He seemed to consider whether or not to reply. Then, regarding her, he said, ‘The fact is, I don’t have any respect for people who fuck their way th the top.’
As she stiffened in shock, he turned and walked out.
Nathan was cooking supper when she got home.
Topaz relaxed against the doorway and enjoyed the sight of him, carefully and methodically fiddling with the pan. He’d even put an apron on. How sweet, just like him. She could see it now: no applesauce is going to get the better of Nathan Rosent.
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He was barechested, apa.rt from the apron, just cooking in jeans. That did something to her, the sight of his broad back, the muscles shifting under the skin as he moved. Topaz looked appreciatively over his tight, lean ass. Lust began to tug at her, mingling with the overwhelming sensations of triumph she’d been feeling all day. She padded up behind him and slid her hands round his waist, kissing his shoulderblades, and then started to brush his crotch through the denim.
‘Hey, cut it out,’ he said. ‘This has reached a delicate stage.’
Topaz ignored him and silently slipped out of her shirt and bra. She began to brush across his spine with her nipples.