asked … We’ve got you that Porsche you wanted as well.’
‘Fuck the fucking Porsche,’ lashed Aurora, scraping her chair back and getting to her feet. She lifted her mother’s glass of red wine and emptied it pointlessly over the ciabatta rolls.
She was going to England over her dead body. There was no fucking way.
12 Stevie
Stevie woke to the glare of sunlight. She had a slight headache brought on by too many cocktails the previous evening, and foggily remembered the bar that she and Will Gardner had ended up in. Weeks had passed since they’d met at Linus Posen’s party and she supposed they’d begun a relationship of sorts, insofar as nights out and occasional sex went. Will knew little of her life and she saw no reason why he should: she’d been frank at the outset that she wasn’t in it for a relationship and he’d claimed he was happy with that.
Will’s arm was thrown across her. She watched his sleeping face, handsome in repose, the eyelashes long and the jaw peppered with stubble. Will was good-looking, funny, and nice company—he was a good bet, surely, for any girl. Sex with him was fine, it was pleasant, but she rarely came and when she did it was only on top. Before Stevie had started at Simms & Court she’d had a string of short-lived boyfriends with whom sex had been the same way. Was she destined always to judge others against the man who had changed that? Why should she, when he had treated her so badly? It made her hate him more and more, because nearly a year after their parting he still had her in his clutches, refusing to let her go.
What had it been about him? What made him so special? Was it the way he’d listened to her, after years at home of being one voice among many, as if she were the most captivating woman on earth? Was it the attention he’d lavished, the compliments he’d given? Was it his authority, his age, his influence? That made her sound like a floozy secretary, and of course she knew it was the mother of all stereotypes. Boss works after hours, assistant fixes the drinks, maybe she even calls his wife to let her know he’ll be home late … To her disgrace, she’d done that once. The sound of the other woman’s voice would never leave her, and it was only after they were over that she was able to analyse what she’d heard in it: resignation, disappointment, but most of all sadness. Infinite, profound sadness—for Stevie understood now that it had happened before, probably many, many times. And through her inability at the time to think outside how she admired him, and how his marriage, she’d been told, was all but over, she’d pushed the woman to the back of her mind and pretended she didn’t exist. It was shameful.
It was also what her father had done to her mother. That was the worst part.
Will opened his eyes, a contented smile spreading across his face. He rolled on to his back, and in an effort to forget the past Stevie moved to kiss him, feeling him reach around her waist, pulling her close. A groan escaped as he grew between her hands. She manoeuvred herself on top, desperate for release, slipping on protection and gasping as he entered.
Will gripped her as she began to rock back and forth. ‘You’re gorgeous,’ he breathed, sitting to embrace her, grazing her breasts, moving with her, kissing her chin and then her lips.
Stevie’s rhythm became more frantic. She could feel the surge rising and pushed Will back on to the pillows, riding him harder now, wanting him to fill her up and force her to forget everything. She gripped his hands, threw her head back and felt him free his fingers so he could stroke her throat and her tits, kissing her over and over.
She came fiercely, releasing a cry and feeling the blood in every fibre of her body. Will continued to thrust into her warmth, drawing out her climax, threatening to take her all the way again. He lifted her hips and withdrew, moving her on to her back and raising her legs high so her feet were on either side of his neck. Violently he pounded back into her, forcing himself so deep that Stevie had to push back on the wall behind her head to keep herself from slamming into it. Seconds later he reached his pinnacle.
‘Christ, Stevie,’ he breathed, burying his head in her shoulder as he rode it. ‘What are you doing to me?’
She pulled on a shirt and padded to the bathroom. The shower blasted scalding hot then freezing cold. Will’s downtown loft apartment was crummier than the one she shared with Bibi, but most times they slept together here. She preferred the detachment of it—plus she could do without Bibi’s cross-questioning the morning after.
Speak of the devil. The minute she got out, Bibi called.
‘I need you to come to an audition with me today,’ she announced.
Stevie put her glasses on and sat down on the bed. Will released the knot on her towel, letting it fall to her waist. Lazily he stroked her back.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I need a partner.’
Stevie hitched the towel up and stood. ‘For what?’ She could see from the bulge under the sheets that Will was ready to go again. She returned to the bathroom and ran a comb through her hair, which wasn’t easy with a phone under one ear.
‘It’s gonna make all the difference,’ Bibi explained, ‘if I read with someone I know—and I’ll be most comfortable with you. And if I’m comfortable then I’m relaxed and when I’m relaxed I know I can shine. That’s the problem with every other gig they’ve sent me for, Steve! I’ve been so nervous I totally blew it! So, I figure, if you’re there too then it’ll be just like it is when you help me at home, and you’re really good, you know? You always bring out my best. So I need you.’
‘I don’t know, B—’
‘Please,’ Bibi begged, ‘it’s a serious part—the first one that’s come up for me in ages! I really want it. Please, will you come?’
Stevie was puzzled. If the work her friend was doing for Linus Posen wasn’t ‘serious’ then what was it? Since his party, Bibi had been collaborating with the director on several projects—she’d tried to cajole Stevie into phoning him too but had given up after a series of repeated refusals—but was always cagey about exactly what it was she was doing. All Stevie knew was that her engagements with Linus always took place at some undisclosed location and Bibi, when she reappeared, was terse in her replies about where she’d been. It was unlike her: Bibi waxed lyrical about everything, especially when it came to her career.
‘But—’
‘All I’m asking is for you to say a handful of lines,’ Bibi barrelled on, ‘that’s all. I’m desperate for this, Steve, please. I mean it. Please say yes. Please?’
It was the least she could do after Bibi’s kindness. ‘Yes.’
Will approached her from behind, lifting the towel and pressing his erection against her.
‘When do you need me?’ she asked into the phone.
‘Now,’ he murmured, attempting to direct himself inside.
Bibi’s relief was audible. ‘Park Avenue. Two o’clock. I appreciate it, I really do.’
‘Are you all right?’ Stevie asked. ‘You sound funny.’
There was a brief silence, before: ‘I’m fine!’
She tried to bat off Will’s attentions. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Sure. Just be there, OK?’
‘I will.’
Stevie clicked her phone shut, concerned about her friend. Something wasn’t right. But then maybe she just hadn’t spent enough time with Bibi recently. She had to rectify that.
‘I’ve got to be somewhere,’ she said.
Will took her hips in his hands and tilted her forward. ‘Five minutes,’ he growled. ‘And then I’ll let you go.’
The casting took place on the second floor of an old office building on Park Avenue. There was a little waiting space outside