Gold Diggers

Over Eduardo’s shoulder, she could see Adam still standing there, his eyes following them.

‘Do you want to go back?’ asked Eduardo.

‘Not yet. Just hold me.’

Adam was stony-faced by the time she returned. ‘Who was that?’ he said flatly, taking a canapé off a tray and biting into it rather harder than necessary.

‘Just an old friend. He’s from a very old Italian family. Practically royalty if Italy still had a monarch. Very charming. Now what were you saying about me consulting for Midas?’

‘Oh, we can discuss that in London,’ he replied dismissively. He fell quiet as they slowly walked around the palazzo to explore its dark corners, finally finding a quiet courtyard that opened onto a canal, the water lapping up against the marble floor.

‘Eerie, isn’t it?’ he whispered.

‘Have you ever seen Don’t Look Now?’

He laughed, moving closer to her so their fingers brushed.

‘Shall we go?’ he asked. She nodded and he led her out of the palazzo, down a tangle of narrow streets and into St Mark’s Square where the launch to the Cipriani was located up a little carpeted gangway.

‘You at the Cip too?’

‘Palazzo Vendramin, next door.’

No other guests boarded and they sat in silence at the uncovered rear of the boat, watching the green water of the Grand Canal splash and foam around them. The Venetian skyline never failed to make Karin smile, the tall tower of St Mark’s stretching up into a midnight-blue sky peppered with stars. Suddenly there was a whoosh and a spider’s web of colour lit up the sky. Carnival was famous for its firework displays and, for the rest of the journey across to Giudecca Island, the sky was studded with gold and crimson stardust. There would not be a more magical spot to be alone with Adam Gold for the first time, Karin thought to herself, letting her hand slip onto the seat next to his.

‘The view from my suite is just like this,’ said Adam quietly, touching her fingers with his. Karin offered up a prayer and made a mental note to call and thank Eduardo for his brilliant performance. The brother of an old school friend, she had known him since he was a teenager. Now twenty-nine, the gorgeous Venetian playboy was also still in the closet, too afraid of his staunch Catholic parents to tell them the truth about his sexuality. But he had been more than happy when Karin had phoned him earlier that day to play her suitor. ‘I’m going to that party anyway,’ he had giggled, ‘And it won’t be hard to pretend I am madly in love with you, carissima.’ He had played his part beautifully. The psychology of rich men was fairly easy to understand. They wouldn’t stand for something to be taken from their grasp.

The boat chugged to the dock at the Cipriani and the captain helped her onto dry land. Karin and Adam walked down the dark, leafy path into the hotel, where they could hear the tinkling of a piano and the good-humoured murmur of guests leaving the bar.

‘Could you handle another drink?’ asked Adam.

‘I could, but aren’t we going to frighten everyone in the bar?’ she smiled. They were still wearing their heavy cloaks with the elaborate Venetian masks pushed back off their faces.

‘My suite or yours then?’ smiled Adam. Karin’s stomach flip-flopped as she attempted to look nonchalant.

‘Yours, but just for a few minutes,’ she said, and they began to weave through the fragrant gardens of the Cipriani towards the exclusive quarters of the Palazzo Vendramin.

Adam unlocked the heavy mahogany door and let his guest into the suite, walking over to the long shutters and opening them without turning on the light. Karin followed him The view was every bit as impressive as Adam had promised, the milky glow of the moon adding to the magic. He moved behind her and his lips brushed her neck. She had hoped to deny him a little longer, to make him chase her, but it was impossible. The sexual charge between them was too strong. His fingers untied the ribbon of her cape, which fell to the floor, a pool of velvet.

He kissed her on the mouth, his warm hands cupping her face, moving down her back, quickly pulling at the zip. Her dress fell away from her in one movement and she stood there totally naked, save for the mask on the back of her head.

‘For someone who wants to start designing panties, I thought you might be wearing some,’ he said, his voice gravelly.

‘Do I have to practise everything I preach?’ she said softly, her hands moving inside his clothes. She began to undress him, but he gently held her hands still, reaching up to pull her carnival mask back down over her eyes. In the dark, the black mask obscured almost everything and her skin tingled with the thrill. She felt herself being lifted and lowered onto the bed, her groin aching, every nerve tingling with heightened sensualness. She groaned loudly as she felt her left nipple between Adam’s moist lips, then shuddered as two of his fingers pushed into her, sliding back and forth across her clitoris as she arched her back in pleasure. He withdrew and for a few moments she felt nothing but ripples of pleasure and the cool breeze breathing in through the window. Then he parted her thighs with his hands, still damp from her juices, lifting her knees to her chest so his thick cock could sink deep inside her. And, as they rocked together, their sweat-sheened bodies moving in perfect rhythm in the moonlight, she cried out with a sweet mixture of passion, pleasure and triumph.

11

‘I have to say, Erin, you’ve really pulled it out of the bag this time.’ Richard adjusted his bow tie in a self-satisfied manner and smiled over to his girlfriend. It was true that Erin was attracting a number of admiring glances from Richard’s colleagues at the White, Geary and Robinson annual dinner – not that there was a huge amount of competition, she thought. The Park Lane Hilton was awash with bottle-green taffeta, burgundy velvet and ill-fitting cummerbunds, so Erin’s silk peacock blue DKNY evening dress made her look like a supermodel.

‘Glad you like it,’ said Erin, stroking the fabric. ‘It cost six hundred quid. I don’t think I’ve spent more than that on anything except rent.’

‘Bloody hell!’ whistled Richard. ‘Have you won the lottery and not told me?’

Erin had received her first pay-packet earlier that week and, after nearly fainting at the size of it, had decided to go to Knightsbridge on a shopping spree. At first she couldn’t believe how much designer clothes cost. It was ridiculous! Still, she had to admit it was worth every penny: the blue was stunning against her alabaster skin and it clung to every new curve. She had lost eight pounds since she had left Cornwall; working for Adam meant there wasn’t time to eat. Richard disappeared to check the seating plan and returned with two flutes of champagne.

‘Fuck me!’ he whispered gleefully, ‘we’re only sitting on the managing partner’s table!’

‘I take it that’s a good thing,’ said Erin, laughing at his boyish enthusiasm.

‘Erin, Charles Sullivan is only one of the highest-earning lawyers in the City,’ he hissed, ‘bills millions for the firm. Millions!’

He was beginning to sound like David Attenborough describing some lesser-known species of the Amazon rainforest.

‘Well, I hope he’s a good laugh if we’re sitting with him for dinner.’

‘A good laugh?’ Richard spluttered. ‘Erin. We’re talking invaluable networking opportunities here. One good word from him and I can pick and choose which department I go to when I qualify. I tell you, it’s a job well done here, Erin. Thank you, Adam Gold. Speaking of which, where the bloody hell is he?’

As if hearing Richard’s words, Adam walked into the room. His presence was like a shock of sex appeal in the otherwise sober company of the lawyers and their partners. The cut of his dinner jacket seemed a little more sharp, his shirt more crisp, his tan glowing among the papery English complexions. All heads and eyes swivelled to look at him. Erin felt a bolt of pride as he came up to her and Richard.

‘Sorry I’m late. I was caught in the office. Had a few calls to make to New York. Shall we go in?’

‘Thanks for coming,’ whispered Erin as they strolled into the dining hall, ‘I really appreciate it.’

‘Well I hope he’s going to buy you something very nice for this,’ said Adam, nodding his head in the direction of Richard.

Adam was seated between Erin and Charles Sullivan. Charles was a powerfully built man with a shock of grey hair and a deep voice. In the legal world, he was something of an ageing matinée idol. Erin enjoyed watching the interplay between two successful businessmen. Charles Sullivan was clearly angling for work, gently promoting the firm at every opportunity, but he avoided anything direct, choosing safer subjects of conversation like shooting and golf. Richard, however, was less subtle, leaning over Erin and barging his way into the conversation wherever possible.

‘I assume you’ve moved to London because you intend to float the business on the stock exchange,’ asked Richard with an air of authority.

‘And why would you assume that?’ asked Adam, with just the hint of amusement in his voice.

‘Well, with the introduction of REITs, isn’t every property company to go public?’

‘What’s a REIT?’ asked Erin.

Richard rolled his eyes. ‘A Real Estate Investment Trust. Property companies convert to REIT status to become tax efficient.’

‘Well, thank you for the lesson, Richard,’ said Charles, his smile loaded with warning. ‘But I hardly suppose Adam is going to let us in on his plans for Midas, is he?’

‘It’s also a little more complicated than that,’ smiled Adam politely.

Erin could see that he was trying to stop the direction of the conversation without wanting to be rude. Richard, however, was like a small dog with a big bone, yapping and jumping, wanting everyone to see how clever he was. Erin looked at Richard with a sinking feeling of what? Disappointment? Embarrassment? When she had first got together with Richard, she had been in her final year of her degree and he was beginning the legal practice course in preparation for his traineeship. All her friends at Uni had considered him to be quite a catch, but at first she hadn’t really seen it. It wasn’t that he was particularly good-looking – there were certainly sexier men at college – but slowly she saw that Richard possessed a self-confidence, a worldliness and a purpose lacking in most of the men she met at the students’ union. Richard talked about the future and his place in it when most students mumbled about indie bands and scoring ‘a quarter’ and she quickly found his considered opinions on politics and economics incredibly attractive. He was a real man, not some lank-haired teenager. She was also seduced by his family, who owned a big red-brick rectory in Worcestershire. She loved the sense of having a big, close-knit family; there were his mother and father, Brian and Margaret, and three brothers, who all worked in the city. But at the same time, on her rare visits home with Richard, she had felt inadequate, as if Richard was out of her league. She’d asked him once what he had seen in her.

‘Fantastic knockers,’ he’d said with apparent sincerity. ‘Whatever happened to that tight black T-shirt you used to wear?’

She’d laughed it off at the time. But here and now, sitting next to Adam Gold, the scales were slowly falling from her eyes.

‘I’m just going to the bathroom,’ she whispered as Richard swirled his teaspoon around in his coffee with the air of a prime minister listening to his cabinet.

‘Yeah, sure, honey,’ he said absently, waving his hand. ‘Take your time.’

The bathroom was quiet, with only a few cubicles occupied, so Erin had the mirror to herself as she dabbed some blusher on her cheeks. Then she noticed another woman standing a few feet away, just watching her. It unnerved Erin a little. The woman had a long, horsey face and the glassy look of someone who had drunk too much. Finally Erin nodded to her. ‘Hello,’ she said, wondering perhaps if she had met her before.

The blonde stepped towards Erin, a little unsteady on her feet. ‘Richard Pendleton’s girlfriend, yes?’ she said with an accent Erin could only describe as phoney-Sloaney. ‘It’s good to finally meet you.’

‘Really?’ Erin was surprised that Richard spoke about her with his workmates and she suddenly felt a little guilty about her uncharitable thoughts at the dinner table.

‘Well, never particularly wanted to meet you before, no,’ said the woman with a twisted smile. ‘But obviously now I’m curious.’

‘Curious about what?’ asked Erin, feeling a sudden fluttery sense of foreboding.

‘Why, curious about you,’ she laughed malevolently. ‘Richard’s little girlfriend tucked away in Cornwall.’

Erin didn’t want to be rude to any of Richard’s colleagues, but this woman was clearly hostile for some reason. ‘Is there a problem?’

The woman laughed. Erin noticed that her lips and teeth were stained purple from the wine. ‘No, no problem, not any more. Not now you have the ear of Adam Gold. This firm would kill to get a slice of the Midas legals and there’s no way they would have got Gold here tonight without you. So Richard is officially Charles Sullivan’s blue-eyed boy. No wonder he’s gone running back to you.’

‘Running back to me?’

The blonde’s sneer was slowly dissolving, her lip wobbling. ‘Last month he told me that he loved me,’ she said, her voice cracking. ‘He said he loves me because we’re a good match. He said you live in Cornwall and that it wasn’t working and it was never serious. He told me himself.’

Erin felt her cheeks burn hot. ‘You’ve been seeing Richard?’ she said incredulously.

‘For six months. And then you deliver Adam Gold on a bloody platter and Richard decides to “give your relationship another go”.’ The woman’s words were dripping with spite and bitterness. Erin almost felt sorry for the silly, vengeful cow.

‘Don’t waste your tears on Richard Pendleton,’ said Erin, taking a deep breath to compose herself. ‘Because you know what? I won’t.’

She turned and walked into a cubicle and sat on the toilet seat, pressing her thumbs into her eyes and willing herself not to cry. For a moment, she actually thought she might laugh, but then the tears came, dropping onto her knees. What she had said to the blonde woman was true: it wasn’t Richard she was crying for; she could see now he was a self-seeking, pompous prick. But she still felt worthless. Gullible. A fool.

It had always been that way she thought sadly, remembering when she was fifteen and she had really fancied Michael McGavey from the next village. They had flirted for weeks in school, taken long walks on the cliffs and kicked pebbles into the sea with their shoes. When Becky Lewis announced her parents were away in Tenerife and she was going to have a sleepover party – boys and girls – Erin couldn’t believe her luck. She had gone into Newquay to buy a new dress and she and her friends had giggled with anticipation over what might happen over the course of the evening. Michael had been less friendly that night. Becky had smiled at him and plied him with her dad’s beers. When the games and the horror movies had finished, he’d gone into Becky’s bedroom while Erin had lain frozen in her red sleeping bag listening to the sounds of muffled first-time sex. Some girls didn’t care if you fancied a boy. Some girls thought that if they fancied that boy too, then it was all that mattered. Even if they were your friends, they would still have him. Because they were prettier and wittier and because they could.

Adam can’t see me like this, she thought stubbornly. If she could just reach the cloakroom without seeing anyone, she could slip away unnoticed.

‘There you are. I’ve been looking for you.’

Richard had taken his jacket off and his dicky bow was hanging around his neck. He looked bloated with self-satisfaction and more than a little drunk. He looked around the lobby smugly, where a few people were already beginning to collect their coats.

‘What a good night – and isn’t Adam great? I think I made an impression there. Do you think he’ll request me personally when he instructs us? Anyway, it looks as if Charles is going to swap my final seat from probate to tax. I mean, what good will fucking probate do me? And I’ll be sitting with one of the heavy-hitting partners too.’

Erin stared blankly at him. He had completely failed to register she was upset.

‘Well, you deserve it,’ she spat, ‘after you’ve been working so hard over the last few months.’

‘Ooh,’ he said sarcastically, ‘what’s got into you?’

‘I’ve just been speaking to some blonde in the toilets who was telling me exactly why you’ve been putting in such long hours at the office. You must have been exhausted, you poor thing.’

Despite Erin’s obvious sarcasm, Richard still hadn’t completely twigged her meaning. ‘Some blonde? Who?’

‘Long face, short skirt, says you’re great in bed apparently. I said we must have been talking about another Richard Pendleton.’

‘Bella?’ he croaked. ‘Oh, she’s just another trainee. Worked with her in the CoCo department – as you know the hours could be incredible sometimes, but …’

‘You bloody liar!’ she said, jabbing a finger into his chest.

Richard’s face whitened. ‘Look, what’s she been saying?’ he stammered, his earlier confident bluster now completely dissolved.

‘The real reason you didn’t want to come down to Cornwall or have me to stay at weekends. Quite a handy arrangement for you, wasn’t it? Her up here and me tucked away two hundred miles away.’

‘She’s making it up,’ he said, trying to sound indignant. ‘She’s a bit, you know, la-la,’ he said, twirling a finger at his temple.

‘Save it Richard,’ she spat, pulling her coat on. ‘I’m not interested any more.’

‘Look, okay,’ he said, grabbing Erin’s arm and lowering his voice, ‘so we had a little fling. You know how difficult the long-distance thing between us is. And, yes, Bella and I were both working long nights and one thing led to another. But it’s long over and she can’t accept it.’

He began shaking his head, his mouth twisting up sourly. ‘I can’t believe the little tart told you.’

‘But it didn’t stop long ago, did it, Richard?’ said Erin, shrugging off his hand. ‘It stopped the second I became useful to you.’

‘Erin, stop it,’ he hissed, noticing that people were beginning to look at them. ‘Let’s go home and talk about this.’

They both saw Adam Gold coming out of the ballroom at the same time. He was pulling on his cashmere overcoat when he saw them.

‘Erin, Richard. I have to go,’ he said, glancing at his gold Patek Philippe. ‘Thanks for a great evening.’

Richard, still pale, went to shake his hand. ‘It was an absolute pleasure, Adam. Thank you for coming.’

Adam smiled, although his brow furrowed. ‘Erin, can I grab you for one minute?’ he said, pointing towards the door.

She followed him, trying to compose herself, aware that her eyes were still stinging from crying.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

‘Absolutely fine,’ she forced a smile. ‘Probably had a bit too much to drink.’

At that moment a rogue tear slipped down her cheek and she turned so that her back was to Richard, still hovering in the lobby.

‘Erin, what’s the matter? What’s happening?’ whispered Adam, shooting a ferocious glare in Richard’s direction.

‘It’s nothing Adam, honestly,’ replied Erin, struggling to suppress the sobs she felt welling up.

‘Tell me.’ It was an order.

‘Okay. My boyfriend is a liar and a cheat,’ she said as matter of factly as she could, gulping in air between the words. ‘While I was in Cornwall, he was cheating on me. All that time.’

Adam touched the sleeve of her coat gently and turned to look at Richard. Behind him, they could see Charles Sullivan waving a balloon of brandy in the air as he said goodbye to guests. He saw Adam and began to move over towards them.

‘Do you want to teach Richard a lesson?’ whispered Adam.

She blushed. ‘He deserves it,’ she said, laughing despite the tears. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘Just watch.’

They walked towards Charles and Richard. Erin’s heart was beating so furiously she thought it might stop, and her mouth was dry with anticipation. She recognized the look on Adam’s face, the ‘smiling assassin’ expression he had when he was just about to close a good deal.

‘Adam! Not going already?’ said Charles, slapping him on the shoulder. ‘Well, I have to say, it’s been a pleasure. Let’s stay in touch – you know what they say about your people phoning our people …?’ he said winking at Erin. ‘I gave you my card, didn’t I? It goes without saying that the firm would love to do some work with the Midas Group.’

Adam pulled the business card Charles had given him from his pocket and held it in the air. ‘Thanks, Charles. I have your details.’

The managing partner smiled, scenting big new business.

‘And as you know,’ continued Adam, ‘I am looking around for a new law firm for the Midas Group. We farm out a high volume of contract work,’ he said temptingly. ‘We spend a lot of money on our legals. A lot of money.’

Charles was beaming now.

‘Only there seems to be an issue of trust.’ Adam turned to look evenly at Richard whose face suddenly seemed frozen in fear. ‘You see, if my assistant can’t trust your trainee, I’m not sure I can trust White, Geary and Robinson.’

Charles Sullivan had gone a violent shade of pink and was looking at Richard as if he were about to throttle him. ‘But … Adam, Mr Gold, I’m sure I … that is we, can …’ spluttered Charles.

‘Oh, and Richard,’ added Adam in a low voice, ‘I hope you haven’t been billing all that late-night extracurricular work you’ve been doing to a client account? That would be fraud, and I believe that sort of thing is very frowned upon in the legal profession.’

There was a collective silence. Charles Sullivan now had purple spots on his cheeks and Richard looked as if he was about to cry.

As Adam turned and led a smiling Erin towards the revolving doors, he flipped up the collar on his coat and grinned. ‘I’ve got a feeling your ex-boyfriend is about to be debriefed.’

‘Erin, come home, this is ridiculous.’

Jilly Thomas was a placid woman most of the time, but when her granddaughter was in trouble, she was as fierce as a pit bull.

‘Gran, I’m not coming home,’ said Erin down the phone, ‘it’s just a setback.’

‘But where are you going to live?’ It’s just like that terrible Michael McGavey all over again, and look how long it took you to get over him.’

Erin sighed. ‘I’m a big girl now, gran,’ she said. ‘It’s going to be alright; I like it in London.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want to come home? We’re always here for you, you do know that, don’t you?’

‘I’m sure. And yes, I know that and it makes me very happy.’

Jilly was silent for a long time. ‘Well, you’re missing all the gossip. Did you know that Janet was pregnant? Same age as you and about to have a baby. Isn’t it lovely? Due just before Christmas.’

Erin smiled into the receiver. Suddenly she didn’t want to go home at all.

12

As the British Airways flight from Zurich landed at Heathrow Airport on a clear March Monday morning, Molly turned to Marcus, asleep next to her, and smiled contentedly. Right now, life felt good; really good. She had a rich, generous, well-connected man wrapped around her little finger. He was showering her with gifts and compliments but, more importantly, she felt sure he was going to lead her to the real prize: Adam Gold. Yes, her relationship with Marcus was progressing at speed, but she had never thought of Marcus as the goal; he was merely a stepping stone to the real money. Marcus was wealthy, but Molly’s standards were higher, much higher. In fact, Molly ranked men according to the kind of plane they owned. A Citation or a Challenger would do, but preferably a Learjet or a Gulfstream V or, at the very top of the tree, a custom-built Boeing 737. It was a long time since she had travelled by commercial airline on a romantic weekend, but Marcus was a useful pit stop and, she had been pleased to discover, he was actually quite good company. In the two weeks following the Knightsbridge drinks party there had been three Mr Chow suppers and as many all-night sex sessions at his pied-à-terre in Chelsea or his country house in Buckinghamshire. Finally, Marcus had invited her to St Moritz to ski. Not that they ever made it to the slopes; the closest they got to the snow was dislodging some powder from the roof as they had sex in the penthouse suite at Badrutt’s Palace.