‘No, the good opportunities are inside that club,’ snapped Molly, gesturing towards the entrance. ‘Look, over there.’ As she spoke, the crowd parted to let Prince Albert pass inside.
‘Listen, Adam is on his way over from the casino with a group of rich players. Real men with real prospects. Why are you wasting your time pretending you’re Davina bloody McCall?’
Summer flushed again, but with the TV crew hovering in the background, she somehow felt stronger. ‘And why are you wasting your time on Adam when he’ll be coming with Karin?’ she hissed back. Molly’s mouth dropped open. She looked as if she had been slapped.
Summer pulled her arm away from her mother and walked back towards the club, beckoning the cameraman as she went.
‘I’ll come in later,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘I’ve got work to do first.’
That ungrateful little bitch, thought Molly as she took a seat at one of the reserved tables by the dance floor. After all I’ve done for her. Well let her play her little games. I’ve got bigger fish to fry. Molly smiled as she remembered Summer’s comment about Adam. Of course Adam wasn’t coming with Karin, she smirked to herself. She clicked her fingers to summon the wine waitress and ordered an extortionately priced bottle of vodka and champagne for the table. She’d find someone to pay for it later.
But two hours later there was still no sign of anyone from the Midas party and, although Molly had kept herself entertained flitting from one old acquaintance to another, she was beginning to get bored and anxious.
‘Well, well … Here’s somebody I haven’t seen in a long time,’ said a voice behind Molly.
She turned and groaned inwardly. ‘Gunter. How are you?’
Gunter Strauss was a German industrialist. Rich and flash, he liked to dip in and out of the circuit when his fierce wife in Düsseldorf would allow him. Molly had met him at the Red Cross Ball five years earlier and he had invited her to Necker Island six months later. Gunter slid into a seat beside Molly, his long face twisted in a leer.
‘Here for the race, Molly?’ he asked.
‘No, actually,’ she said, turning away from him slightly. ‘I’m working with Midas Corporation this year.’
‘Ah, Adam Gold,’ nodded Gunter, ‘I was just going to meet him.’
Molly looked at him, surprised. ‘Meet him where?’
Gunter smiled and ran a hand lightly up Molly’s bare thigh. ‘On his yacht. He’s moored a couple of berths down from mine. I saw him at the casino about an hour ago. Said I should drop by for a drink.’
‘So he’s not coming to Jimmy’z?’ said Molly, pursing her lips.
Gunter shook his head. ‘It appears not. But how about we go for that drink together? Then I can show you my yacht. I believe I have a bigger one than Gold’s,’ he smiled lasciviously. ‘Why don’t you come and measure up?’
With a mounting bar bill, Molly had no intention of staying at Jimmy’z if Adam wasn’t coming along. If she could get Gunter to settle it and get a lift down to the harbour, then all the better. She could dump Gunter once she got to Adam’s tub.
Gunter’s car was a blue BMW with cream interior. Molly got into the passenger seat and sank back into the soft leather as Gunter gunned the engine and sped off, leaving rubber on the road. Monaco was tiny and the drive from Jimmy’z to the harbour was short, but it would never do to be seen tottering down the narrow streets to the yacht, especially not when there were so many prestige cars to travel in. But Molly knew immediately that they were going in the wrong direction, heading out of the small town into the hills of Roquebrune.
‘Gunter, I think maybe you have had too much to drink because the harbour is that way,’ she said, feeling her nerves begin to jangle.
‘I just want to take you for a spin,’ said Gunter, smiling. ‘You like my car, don’t you?’
‘Well yes, but I would like to go back to the harbour now,’ said Molly more forcefully.
They were out of Monte Carlo now. They had taken a turn off the coastal road and Gunter was slowing the car into a viewing bay at the side of the road. They could see the orange lights of Monaco to their right. Out in front of them, beyond the pine trees clinging onto the cliffs, the Mediterranean spilled out jet-black towards the horizon.
‘I love Monte Carlo, but sometimes it gets a bit crazy, no?’ said Gunter, sliding his hand onto her bare thigh again. ‘Sometimes you just need to be alone …’
Molly twisted away from him, illuminated only by the car headlights spilling out onto the soil in front of them. She knew why they had come out here. His wife was probably on their yacht, waiting for him, and Gunter wanted some fun beforehand. Six months ago she would have given him what he wanted, a little sexual buzz to end his evening, but tonight she was angry. She had been tricked away from Adam and she wasn’t in the mood to be playing with the likes of Gunter.
‘Can we go back, please?’ said Molly loudly, removing Gunter’s hand from her thigh. Gunter just chuckled and unclicked his seat belt, moving closer to Molly.
‘Now, tell me you haven’t gone all chaste on me?’ he sneered. His lips were close to her neck and she could smell a £500 bottle of bourbon on his breath. ‘Because that would be a real waste.’
‘Get off me!’ she spat, quickly rolling away from him and grabbing the car door. It was locked. Gunter’s fat, sweaty hand was back riding up her thigh so his fingers were touching the rim of her panties.
‘I’ve missed you, Molly,’ he whispered, ‘I’ve missed you sucking my cock. No one can suck cock better than you, Molly. I want you to remind me how good you are.’ He was almost on top of her now, groping at her breasts and fumbling with the zip of his trousers.
‘Get the fuck off me,’ she screamed, but Gunter was strong, pushing her down wit