Friends and Rivals

‘Of course,’ said Catriona. ‘You should have brought her down here. She’s a sweet girl and Rosie and Hector both adore her. Especially Hector. I think he has a bit of a crush actually. It’s sweet.’

Ivan kissed her on the forehead. ‘No. We have to start ring-fencing our family time a bit more. I can deal with clients during the week, but weekends here are for us.’

A flicker of guilt, trying to make itself felt in Ivan’s chest, was quickly extinguished. What Catriona didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. As long as he kept his two worlds separate and compartmentalized, everything would work out just fine.

Jared Crane looked across the desk at his client and frowned.

He was not happy.

Jared Crane was the senior partner at Crane and Farrelly, one of the top corporate law partnerships in Beverly Hills. Wealthy, successful people paid Jared Crane an astronomical amount of money, by the hour, for legal advice. Having paid the money, it seemed to Jared only right and proper that they should then take the advice he had given them.

The client sitting opposite him today had a reputation for stubbornness. But he also had a reputation for caution, intelligence and good sense, which was what made today’s events even more distressing. The document he was about to sign was one that Jared Crane had drawn up for him, against Jared’s advice and at the client’s own absolute insistence. Jared Crane had told him in no uncertain terms that signing it was not in his best interests. But yet here Jack Messenger sat, directly across the desk from Jared, with a silver Mont Blanc pen in his hand and a look of grimly determined stupidity on his handsome face.

‘Where do I sign?’

‘Penultimate page. At the bottom. But, Jack, I wish you’d reconsider. Or at least cool off for a few days before I send Ivan his copy. Once he signs, it’s done, and can’t be undone.’

Jack dashed off a signature and handed his lawyer the document. ‘It’s already done, Jared. I can’t work with him any more.’

‘Fine, but you do understand it’s you who’s walking away from the Jester name. You’re effectively giving Ivan Charles the brand – a brand you’ve spent your entire professional life building.’

Jack shrugged. ‘It’s just a name. I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but clients are loyal to me, not to Jester. I’ll start a new company and carry on as before.’

It does sound arrogant, thought Jared Crane, or at least foolhardy. Brand names were important in any business, but especially in music, and they couldn’t be replaced overnight. In his enthusiasm for a fresh start, Jack Messenger was giving up his rights in something very valuable. And not to a friend, but to a man in whose interests it was to try and destroy him professionally.

‘Have you called your clients and discussed it with them?’

‘Not yet,’ said Jack.

‘Don’t you think you should?’

Jack frowned. He knew Jared Crane was looking out for his interests, but his mind was made up. ‘With respect, Jared, I know how to handle my clients. The one thing artists hate is uncertainty. Once I’ve formally split with Ivan, I’ll let people know where things stand. Day to day, nothing will change for most of them.’

Jared Crane watched Jack Messenger leave his office with a spring in his step, satisfied with the morning’s business. Jared hoped his own pessimism was unfounded and that things would work out all right for his client. Until today, he’d never put Jack Messenger down as impulsive, still less a fool.

He buzzed his secretary with a heavy heart. ‘Linda, I have a document here I need you to FedEx. Uh huh. Express delivery to London.’

‘Hey, Brett, it’s for you. Ivan Charles.’

Reluctantly Brett Bayley put down the lap-dancer and picked up the phone. His hotel room at the Georges V in Paris was littered with empty champagne bottles and wraps of coke, the remnants of which dusted the top of the coffee table like snow. So far The Blitz were enjoying the French leg of their tour immensely.

‘Whassup, man?’

‘Good morning, Brett. Has Jack called you?’ Ivan’s voice was low and rich, like slowly pouring honey.

‘Jack Messenger? No. Why would he?’

‘Well,’ Ivan cleared his throat, ‘he’s decided to leave the company and set up on his own.’

‘What?’

‘He didn’t even bother to call you?’ Ivan sounded surprised.

‘No,’ Brett frowned. ‘He didn’t. This is the first we’ve heard of it. I guess I should call him.’

‘That’s up to you,’ said Ivan casually. ‘I’m just calling to let you know how much we at Jester value The Blitz as clients. I hope you’ll consider staying with us.’

Brett hesitated. ‘I don’t know, man. Jack’s been with us from the beginning, you know? We kind of owe him.’

‘Do you think so?’ said Ivan. ‘Well, I must say that’s very generous of you. I’d have said that he owes you, after a decade of skimming twenty per cent off your top line.’

Brett had never really thought of it like this. ‘I guess he could have called us at least.’

‘Indeed,’ purred Ivan. ‘I should probably also mention that now that I’m running Jester, we’re going to be halving our commission for our top-tier acts.’

The lap-dancer was massaging Brett’s shoulders, her huge silicone breasts pressed against his back like beach balls. He struggled to concentrate. ‘Halving it, you say?’

‘Uh huh. Ten per cent.’

Brett Bayley was no Einstein. But a ten per cent commission rate was unheard-of in the music business. It would mean millions of extra dollars in his pocket every year. And, after all, he did have a wife and kid to think about now.

‘No pressure,’ said Ivan. ‘Have a think about it.’

Lex Abrahams sat at the bar at Cecconi’s on Melrose indulging in some surreptitious star-spotting. Out on the patio, Simon Cowell was holding court amongst a bunch of artists and record-company execs, including Gwen Stefani and David Alaia, the new head of Sony. Inside, Jennifer Aniston and a mystery man were huddled at a corner table, and Kobe Bryant, the Lakers hero, was enjoying a quiet dinner with his latest girlfriend, a Croatian model with legs like a giraffe and the brain power to match. As a music biz photographer, and longtime West Hollywood resident, Lex spent half his life amongst celebrities, but he was ashamed to admit he still experienced a small thrill when a beautiful actress or a brilliant sportsman sat down next to him. It was part of the buzz of living in LA and, although few people admitted to feeling it, it was one of the main reasons that celebrity hang-outs like Cecconi’s were fully booked all year round. It always made Lex laugh when pretty girls claimed they came here for the food. It was like saying you went to Hyde for the music, or the Chateau Marmont for the views.

‘Can I get you another margarita?’

The girl behind the bar reminded him of Kendall. She had the same glossy dark hair and angular cheekbones. Lex had successfully not thought about Kendall for an entire ten minutes, but now his mind wandered back to her. He’d only had one phone call from her since she arrived in London, which he assumed meant she was enjoying herself. As a general rule, Kendall only ever called him when she needed something – usually a shoulder to cry on about Jack. She’d be back in a few days and Lex was frightened by how violently he was longing to see her again.

He smiled at the barmaid. ‘Sure. Why not?’

Jack was late, and Lex had nothing much else to do. Having worked on back-to-back shoots for the last six weeks, he now found himself with the rare luxury of a few days off. He’d been thinking about driving down to La Jolla for a well-earned mini-break when Jack Messenger called asking to meet for a drink. He’d sounded excited on the phone, as if he had good news he wanted to share.

When Jack finally arrived, weaving his way through the tables towards the bar, Lex noticed how many female heads turned to look at him. Even in a restaurant full of famous, attractive men, Jack Messenger stood out from the crowd. Lex put it down to the fact that, unlike almost everybody else here, Jack genuinely didn’t care what sort of an impression he made. LA was crawling with good-looking men, but very few of them were so self-contained, so entirely without vanity. Jack Messenger didn’t play it cool. He was cool. Big difference.

‘Sorry. Crazy day.’ Sitting down next to Lex he ordered a gin and tonic and a charcuterie plate from the bar. ‘Have you eaten already?’

‘Yes,’ lied Lex, who couldn’t afford Cecconi’s prices. He’d mop up the alcohol with a big bowl of pasta when he got home. So what’s this all about? I’m intrigued.’

Jack took a deep breath. ‘I’m leaving Jester.’

His eyes sparkled with excitement. Lex wasn’t sure how to respond.

‘Wow,’ he said eventually. ‘That’s big news. Where are you going?’

‘I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.’

Lex looked puzzled. Had he had one margarita too many? ‘You mean you’re retiring?’

‘Noooo.’ Jack laughed. ‘Jesus, thanks a lot. I’m not that old. I’m splitting with Ivan, that’s all. It’s been a long time coming and I think it’s gonna be better for both of us. I’ll set up shop here in LA, and we’ll gradually regrow a European business. Ivan can reinvent himself as a reality star, or whatever the hell it is he thinks he does these days.’

Lex processed this information. He’d worked for Jester on and off for the last five years, and in all that time he had only met Ivan Charles twice. Nevertheless, he’d made a big impression. By far the more flamboyant of the two founding partners, it was Ivan who people most associated with the name Jester. Jack was the quiet, powerful engine that kept them going, but Ivan Charles was the face of the company.

‘What does Kendall think about all this?’

For the first time, Jack’s expression darkened. ‘It was Kendall who started this whole ball rolling,’ he said bitterly. ‘Not that I’m complaining. The way I see it, she did me a favour.’

He told Lex the whole story, how Kendall had reneged on her US record deal and signed with a British label behind his back. ‘She called me, drunk out of her mind. When I challenged her about it, she refused to call the thing off – or rather, Ivan refused on her behalf. No question he’s leading her by the nose on this thing. So Kendall’s with Polydor and I’m washing my hands of the both of them.’

Lex didn’t try to hide his shock. Not just that Kendall had taken such a huge step without even telling him; but that Jack would actually go so far as to cut her loose.

‘You can’t be serious. You’re going to stop managing Kendall?’

‘I’m perfectly serious. I’m prepared to manage Kendall, but only on my terms, which she refused.’

‘But Jack—’

‘Look, if Kendall wants to piss her career away in Europe in exchange for the first big cheque she’s offered, that’s up to her,’ Jack snapped. ‘She’ll see through Ivan soon enough. When she does, I dare say she’ll come crawling back.’

Lex flattered himself that he knew Kendall Bryce better than anyone. She and Jack were as stubborn and bull-headed as each other. It would be a cold day in hell before Kendall ‘crawled’ back to anyone. The pair of them were proud to a fault.

‘If you want to call it quits as well, I understand,’ Jack said sulkily. ‘Entirely your call. I know you and Kendall are close.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Lex. ‘Of course I’ll keep working with you.’ He considered Jack Messenger a friend but, far more pertinently, he relied on him for a solid sixty-five per cent of his income. It was typical of Jack’s unconscious arrogance that this simple economic fact had never occurred to him. ‘It’s very sudden, that’s all. Quitting Jester and dropping Kendall, all on the strength of one argument. You don’t think you’re overreacting?’

Jack’s frown deepened. He did not think he was overreacting, and he was tired of everyone telling him he was. So far the only person who’d been unconditionally supportive was Elizabeth, his on-again off-again girlfriend. Liz thought that breaking out on his own was an ‘awesome idea’. Jack put this down to the fact that she had seen first-hand how much stress Ivan Charles’s antics had caused him over the past year, and what a daily nightmare it had been babysitting Kendall Bryce. It didn’t occur to him that Elizabeth Grey was hopelessly in love with him and would probably have said anything she knew he wanted to hear.

Lex Abrahams was braver. ‘What if it doesn’t stop with Kendall?’ he asked Jack, who had downed his G&T and already ordered a second. ‘What if Ivan’s already out there now, trying to secure Jester’s other big acts?’

‘I can’t see him doing that.’ Jack sounded supremely unconcerned. ‘He has his list, which I have no intention of going after, and I have mine. It’s in the clients’ interests to make a clean break.’

‘Maybe, but since when did Ivan Charles put the clients’ interests above his own? He could be on the phone right now, making promises to half your acts. Either way, you ought to call people, man. Let them know what’s going on, reassure them. Have you spoken to Brett Bayley?’

‘No,’ said Jack, irritated. ‘Why would I?’

‘Because he’s in London right now, on Ivan’s home turf, and because The Blitz are your most lucrative act?’ offered Lex. ‘Kendall told me Brett’s wife spends a lot of time with Ivan’s wife. That could be dangerous.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Jack dismissively. ‘I’ve managed The Blitz since they were a bunch of high-school kids. I’m like a father to those boys. Brett Bayley’s not going anywhere. Besides,’ he added, worryingly from Lex’s perspective, ‘anyone who wants to go should go. I’m not interested in representing people who don’t want me as their manager. If Kendall thinks Ivan can do a better job than I have, then good luck to her. I won’t be begging anyone to stay.’

An hour later, Lex drove the few blocks back to his apartment in a state of high anxiety. He knew Jack Messenger to be a smart businessman. He had founded Jester, after all, and must comfortably be worth tens of millions of dollars. But this latest decision seemed totally out of character: risky, impetuous, the sort of thing that Kendall might do.

Kendall. It still hadn’t fully sunk in. Had she really traded in Matador for a niche European record label, and Jack for his charismatic partner? It all seemed so unlikely. And what did it mean? Was she going to stay in England now? To move there permanently? Surely she wouldn’t actually relocate to another continent without telling him. Lex needed to believe he meant more to Kendall than that. Jack might be ready to wash his hands of the troublesome Miss Bryce, but then he had the luxury of not being in love with her.

I’ll call her, get to the bottom of it. There must be two sides to this story. Once I know what she’s thinking, I’m sure I can get her to see sense.

Kendall woke alone in Ivan Charles’s bed. It was only six a.m., but there was no chance of getting back to sleep. Light was already chinking through the blinds in the Eaton Gate flat, and a particularly noisy removal van had inconsiderately decided to start unloading right beneath the master bedroom window.

Kendall officially still had her own room down the hall, but in the ten days since she and Ivan had become lovers, she hadn’t spent a night there. She felt surprisingly lonely when Ivan disappeared to Oxfordshire. It was a comfort to sleep on sheets that still bore the scent of him, and Kendall felt in need of comfort.

In the immediate, euphoric aftermath of her Fascination deal, and the unexpected thrill of beginning a new affair, she’d spared little thought for the long-term implications of her epic row with Jack. Now, as the days passed with no sign of bridge-building on either side, the true enormity of what she’d done was starting to sink in. The entire focus of her career and life had now shifted to London, a city she still barely knew and where she was living out of two suitcases. Ivan had made it all seem so fun. It was fun when he was with her, as if the rest of her life, the boring part full of ties and responsibilities and angry record-company execs, faded into a distant dream and only the thrilling present was real. But as soon as Ivan was physically gone, be it to work or home to his wife and family, Kendall felt like what she was: a stranger, alone and friendless in a foreign city. Forty-million-dollar deals were all very well, but she needed a life. The one she had right now revolved wholly and frighteningly around Ivan Charles, a man she had only met for the first time less than a month ago.

Reaching for her cell phone on the bedside table, she turned it on and checked for new messages. There were six, all from LA, but none of them from Jack. Five were business-related and one was from her mother, who had clearly forgotten Kendall was travelling and sounded irritated that she hadn’t stopped by the house since the spring. Depressed, Kendall was just about to switch the handset off when to her astonishment it rang. Number Withheld. It could be Ivan, from a payphone, although perhaps that was unlikely at this time in the morning. Or Jack, pleading with her to come back …

‘Hello?’

‘I just had dinner with Jack. What the hell’s going on? Why didn’t you call me?’

The sound of Lex’s voice burst Kendall’s hope-bubble like a pin in a birthday balloon.

‘Oh, hi, Lex,’ she sighed. ‘I meant to call you but it’s been totally crazy. Ivan’s got me on an insane publicity schedule. I’ve hardly had a minute to myself.’

‘So it’s true, then? You have dropped Jack for Ivan.’

Kendall bit her lip hard. Was that what Jack was telling people? That she had dumped him?

‘Are you out of your mind?’ Lex asked accusingly. ‘After all Jack’s done for you?’

‘OK, just hold on a minute,’ said Kendall. ‘First of all, Jack dropped me, not the other way around.’

‘After you signed a deal without discussing it with him!’

‘Discussing? With Jack? Come on, Lex, you know the man. Jack doesn’t discuss things with me. He orders me around like a child, and I’m sick of it.’

‘Kendall, you should have told him.’

‘Well maybe I would have if he ever called me,’ Kendall shot back, stung because she knew deep down that Lex was right. ‘Did he tell you what a great deal it is? I bet he didn’t.’ She filled Lex in on the numbers. He had to admit they were eye-popping and that Jack had failed to mention them.

‘Would you walk away from that kind of money just to keep Jack sweet?’

‘No,’ said Lex, ‘I wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t stab him in the back either. And I wouldn’t ignore his advice. Yes, it’s a lot of money, but it means turning your back on the US market, or at least shifting your focus at a crucial point in your career. Jack thinks that’s a mistake.’

‘Oh, bullcrap,’ said Kendall. ‘Jack’s just pissed because for once in his life he’s not in control. Ivan brokered the deal and Jack can’t stand it. He doesn’t care about my interests.’

‘How can you say that?’ Lex sounded genuinely shocked. ‘You know he cares. My God, Kendall, I don’t think you realize how serious this is. Jack’s leaving Jester over this. He’s breaking up the company.’

Kendall shrugged. ‘That’s his decision. Look, it’s not my fault if Jack’s decided to throw all his toys out of the crib. Ivan says he’s always had a spoiled, immature streak.’

Lex laughed bitterly. ‘Yeah, well, Ivan would know.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Kendall went on the defensive.

‘It means he’s a Machiavellian, self-centred jerk,’ said Lex. ‘If you don’t know that now, you soon will.’

‘You barely even know him,’ said Kendall.

‘Nor do you.’

A frosty silence settled between them. Lex broke it first.

‘And what about me? When were you planning on telling me that you weren’t coming back? Or was I supposed to read the press release like everybody else?’

Kendall had never heard him so bitter before. For some reason it made her want to cry.

‘I was going to tell you.’

‘When?’

‘I don’t know. Soon. It was a sudden thing for me too, you know. It’s not like I planned it.’

There was so much Lex wanted to say. When he’d dialled Kendall’s number he had a hundred and one reasons on the tip of his tongue why she should come home, why she should make things up with Jack and convince him to stay at Jester and put this whole, crazy episode behind them. But now Lex realized there was only one real reason he wanted her home. It was the same reason he had for calling, and for feeling betrayed that he’d heard Kendall’s big news from someone else, and not from her. And it was the one reason he could never, ever tell her.

I love you.

Please don’t leave me.

Out loud he said coldly, ‘All right then. Well … good luck,’ and hung up.

Thousands of miles away, alone in Ivan Charles’s bed, Kendall Bryce, Fascination Records’ newest mega-star, burst into tears.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Over the next three months, shockwaves from Jester’s sudden, unexpected implosion reverberated through the music industry. Although Ivan and Jack’s inner circle had known for some time that all was not well between them, to the business at large it was a shock to learn just how bitter and toxic their relationship had become.

More shocking still was how quickly, and catastrophically, Jack Messenger’s career nosedived. Jack had started this war but, for reasons nobody fully understood – perhaps out of some misplaced sense of gentlemanly conduct – he seemed intent on walking onto the battlefield unarmed and undefended. Ivan Charles was not so naïve. From day one he saw the break-up of the Jester partnership for what it was – a fight to the death – and set about annihilating his former partner. Without hesitation he called every one of Jack’s acts, offering them vast financial inducements to remain with Jester, as well as slathering on the charm. Jack was a brilliant manager, but he had never understood as Ivan did the cavernous depths of insecurity that fuelled most artists. Ivan validated and praised and gushed and ego-massaged until his jaw ached. Jack couldn’t bring himself to do it, and it was a reticence that cost him dearly. While Jack adopted a ‘business-as-usual’ approach up in Beverly Glen, Ivan spent entire days on the phone, like Jerry Maguire, relentlessly lobbying and cajoling for business. He flew to Paris to schmooze The Blitz and to New York to sign a new deal with Jason Kray, a young man Jack had been grooming to become the next Michael Bublé. He relentlessly leaned on all his contacts in the press, making sure that Kendall’s face was everywhere and that her picture never appeared without Jester’s name being mentioned. Meanwhile, as final preparations began for the launch of Talent Quest, Ivan’s own face and name began to become well known, at least in England. ITV and the production company, House of Cards, set up an endless stream of interviews for Ivan. He made sure to talk about Jester and his famous acts in all of them. If the show was a success, and especially if it was syndicated globally, the new Jester would be clinging firmly to its coat-tails.

For Catriona Charles it was a period of mixed emotions. On the one hand she was delighted for Ivan, of course. She hadn’t seen him this energized since Jester’s early days. In the first week or two after Jack left, Ivan had been terribly anxious, but the business now seemed to be going from strength to strength. Kendall Bryce, who had always struck Catriona as a sweet girl, not to mention incredibly beautiful and talented, was an almost overnight sensation. Bursting onto the British pop scene like a supernova, with her debut British single going straight in at number three and advertisers clamouring to work with her, Kendall had put Ivan firmly and instantly on the map as a pop manager. Much as Catriona loved Ned Williams and Ivan’s other, classical acts, she could see that managing Kendall had catapulted her husband into a bigger, infinitely more glamorous world. It wasn’t a world that particularly appealed to Catriona. But Ivan loved it, and she was thrilled to see him so happy.