‘So what do you think honestly?’ he replied. ‘Hit or miss?’
&nbs
p; ‘Oh darling, it breaks my heart to say it, but it’s just not going to work. To be in charge of a luxury brand, you have to understand what the fashion brands represent and you have to know how to service your audience. With the new ultra-premium price tag Milford are aiming at the couture customer, women who fly private and take eight dresses for two nights of parties. You’ve seen Emma Bailey: does she look like she represents that sort of brand?’
Larson’s eyes were sparkling as she spoke; he sensed he was getting an exclusive here. Word on the fashion grapevine was that Emma and Cassandra didn’t get on because Cassandra had wanted the company for herself.
‘Can I quote you on that?’ asked Larson, ‘it would be great for my piece.’
‘Not if you ever want to work for Rive,’ replied Cassandra with a hint of menace in her voice, before turning the mega-watt smile back on.
‘As I matter of fact I’ve sent you my CV a few times,’ he said obsequiously. ‘You really do have the most special magazine.’
‘Well, it just so happens that I have a fashion features writer vacancy. Why should I recruit you?’
‘Because I’m good,’ he said simply.
‘Well, that remains to be seen,’ she purred, accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter. ‘Why don’t you send me your Emma Bailey interview when you’ve done it. Let me see if you have the Rive perspective on the industry.’
Cassandra smiled as Larson nodded. He clearly understood what she was asking him to do. If he pleased her, he might stand a chance of getting the job on Rive. In reality, she had no intention of ever doing any such thing. But he didn’t need to know that quite yet.
Rob couldn’t find Emma anywhere. Why the hell do I even want to? he thought angrily, downing his glass of champagne in one. He’d met some pretty high-maintenance women in his time, but Emma Bailey took the biscuit. The real kicker was that he had foolishly thought she was different. When she wasn’t fretting about work or her jogging times, Emma was sweet and funny, her fierce intelligence offset by an endearing naivety that made him somehow want to protect her. But tonight – tonight she had shown another side and had turned on him liked a caged tiger. He was angry because she had disappointed him. Angry because her words, however unreasonable they might have sounded at the time, had more than a ring of truth about them. Rob knew he was used to women who hung on his every word, women who treated him like a king. It was exactly what his therapist had told him in the years after his brother Sam had died; his therapist had put it down to Rob’s family; Sam had taken all the attention and affection from his parents, so Rob sought the adoration he craved elsewhere. And as a child of ultra-rich parents, used to getting whatever material things he wanted, Rob had a sense of expectation that meant he believed no woman would ever turn him down.
If you thought I found you remotely attractive …
The words had stung and he wasn’t even sure why. Emma wasn’t even that hot. Not like her cousin Cassandra who he certainly wouldn’t mind getting to know better. Ah, maybe it was just a bruised ego, he reasoned. All men wanted to be desired and a rebuff by anybody, well it was gonna hurt. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. As he wandered around the grounds looking for Emma, he kept stumbling across the teepees that had been used earlier in the day for ‘Indian Head massages’, whatever they were. Now in the darkness, they seemed to have been transformed into tiny dens of naughtiness, where the faster ends of Laura’s fashion crowd and Max’s banker friends had retreated to be out of the disapproving gaze of the Welsh aristocracy. There were giggles and clinking glasses coming from some, strange aromas and moaning from others. Rob doubted that Emma would be inside any of the tents, but he had looked everywhere else and he was starting to become a little anxious. He had invited her here and as such he felt a sense of responsibility. Rob bent down to the tent furthest from the bonfire and peeked inside. There, to his surprise, he saw a beautiful redhead sitting on a cowskin rug smoking a joint.
‘Hello there, what brings you out this far?’ she said with a flirtatious smile.
‘Same thing as you,’ he said smiling. ‘Avoiding the cowboys and the blue-bloods.’
‘Well, in that case come and join me. My name’s Jessica, by the way. ‘Want some?’ she asked, holding up the joint. Rob watched a thin spaghetti strap fall off one bare shoulder and smiled to himself. Yes, Emma probably needed some more time to cool off. In the meantime, he was going to stay here and have some fun.
Emma had spent the last forty-five minutes looking for Rob. What a bitch she’d been! Rob had only ever been generous to her and how had she repaid him? By being a cow. So he had terrible taste in women, but when had that ever been a crime? Why had she been so mean to him? She ran their conversation over and over again in her mind wondering how she could have been so volatile and rude. Cassandra, that’s how, she thought grimly. Her high and mighty cousin had wound her up so tightly that she had taken it out on the first person she had seen. Rob didn’t know the things Cassandra had said and done against the company, so no wonder he thought Emma was being overly hostile to her.
Emma’s mind was a whirl, trying to work out her feelings, his feelings, overanalysing every angle. Was Rob right when she said the pressure was getting to her? What about her mother’s theory that she needed a boyfriend as another layer to herself? Was she just fooling herself when she thought she could do it all alone? Emma had gone through life convincing herself that she didn’t need anyone, but her experience at Milford suggested quite the opposite: without the help and support of Ruan, Stella and Rob, she would have ground to a halt months ago. And this is how I treat my friends! she thought miserably.
Emma had now walked in a huge circle right around the party looking for Rob and there was nobody else here she knew. She had had a brief conversation with Giles – was that his name? – Cassandra’s colleague she had met in Paris and while he was charming and pleasant he was much less friendly than the first time they’d met. Obviously Cassandra had got to him too. Feeling thoroughly wretched, she just wanted to find Rob to apologize. The only place she hadn’t checked was inside Hildon Castle itself, which seemed to be out of bounds, and a group of wigwams on the perimeter of the party. She poked her head inside the first one she came to and was hit by the smell of alcohol and marijuana. A man and a woman were sitting on a rug, laughing, their hands inches apart on the ground. Emma pulled back, feeling as if she had intruded on something intimate, before she realized the man was Rob.
‘Em! I was looking for you!’ he cried, jumping to his feet.
‘Sorry for disturbing you,’ she stuttered, dimly aware of how oddly formal she sounded.
‘Nonsense, come and sit down. There’s a warm glass of some potent brew if you want it. This is Jessica, by the way. She’s a stylist, lots of celebrity clients. Maybe you two should talk about Milford.’
‘I don’t think tonight’s the night for business,’ she smiled, trying to stop the tremor in her voice. ‘I just wanted to say that I was thinking about going. Apparently there’s a coach going back to the hotel in about ten minutes.’
‘Oh. Well, I’ll come then,’ said Rob. Emma was quick enough to catch the glance between Rob and Jessica that made it clear neither wanted the party to end.
‘No, no, you stay,’ said Emma. ‘It’s not even midnight, you don’t want to miss a quarter of a million pounds worth of pyrotechnics.’
‘There is another bus at one,’ said Jessica helpfully, touching Rob softly on the leg. Rob and Emma looked at each other, the second’s silent pause seeming to drag on and on, before Emma conceded she had no claim over Rob that evening – or any evening.
‘You stay and have fun,’ said Emma, forcing an encouraging smile. She turned and walked away from the scene as quickly as possible, hoping and praying that she would hear Rob’s footsteps behind her. But they never came and two minutes later she was sitting at the back of the bus, completely alone.
Cassandra stood in the shadows watching the country and western hoedown with
amused disdain. She wasn’t sure whose idea a Wild West party had been, especially as all Laura’s friends came from the super-poised fashion set, but at least the macho banker crowd seemed to be having a good time whooping and swinging their partners.