Caught in His Gilded World

Lulu dabbed at her nose with her wrist. ‘It’s not that I don’t believe you, but of all things... You must be so happy, Gigi!’

‘I—I am.’

Only she wasn’t happy, and from the way Lulu was looking at her—had been looking at her since her arrival—her misery was plain to see.

She hadn’t known how miserable she was until this moment. It was like being drenched with a bucket of cold water.

She wasn’t happy, and no amount of telling herself that this was her dream come true was going to change the fact that what mattered more to her than the realisation of her dreams for the theatre, more than the knowledge that the jobs of her friends were safe—more even than doing something to preserve the memory of her mother—was telling Khaled that she loved him. She loved him in all the ways a woman could love a man.

Only all that mattered to him in the end was himself. His comfort, his financial success, having all of it his way.

That night as she lay alone in her bed, rendered cold and narrow and not like hers at all, she couldn’t sleep. She climbed out of bed and went to her window. She could see the corner of the theatre’s peaked roof further down the hill. That old theatre held so many of her childhood dreams, but it didn’t hold her attention as it once had.

She looked up into the sky, unmarked by pollution on this cold winter’s night, and wondered if Khaled was looking up at the same wedge of moon and sprinkling of stars in that fearsomely clean sky over the gorge. Was he thinking of her? Was he remembering how it had felt to lie in that cot of marmot furs, sharing body heat and stories? Was he thinking about how good it had felt to fall asleep like that? Was he thinking about her at all?

* * *

‘He thought you were Rita when we all know you’re Katharine Hepburn. So you got burned.’

Susie said this so pragmatically Gigi couldn’t be offended. But then, she’d made an art form of not being offended. Until Khaled had torn the blinders off her eyes.

‘Rita?’ Adele frowned.

‘Hayworth. Married all those larger-than-life men who disappointed her one way or the other.’

‘Khaled virtually gave her the cabaret to manage—that’s not a disappointment,’ said Leah, but everyone stared at her until she hung her head.

The girls had turned up at the theatre this afternoon to stick their noses in. As long as they wore hard hats that wasn’t a problem on-site.

But as Gigi walked away with Lulu she said, ‘He did give this cabaret to me, and that makes me the lowest common denominator.’

Lulu screwed up her nose. ‘The what?’

‘I’m the lowest common denominator,’ Gigi said desultorily. ‘He gave it to me because I slept with him.’

‘I don’t think anyone makes a fortune with bad business decisions, Gigi. He clearly thinks you’re capable.’

That was the nicest thing Lulu had ever said about Khaled, and it had a ring of truth.

* * *

Gigi stood in her hard hat as the carpenters swung hammers overhead and dust rose from the curtains every time something got shifted on the stage.

This wasn’t her usual environment, although in the past four weeks she had learned to read the builder’s plans—well, she could make sense of where they were putting the toilets. Her real role was organising the talent. She’d already lined up a choreographer and costumier for the new show, which was far more up her alley than chip dust and power saws.

Only today she’d got a message to say they were bringing in the flooring and wanted her to approve the colour.

‘He’s doing this for you,’ Lulu insisted, looking around.

Gigi flinched. ‘Do you mind if we don’t talk about him any more?’

Lulu eyed her nervously. ‘Sure. Only he’s standing over there.’

For a few beats it had sounded as if Lulu had said, He’s standing over there... Which was when she turned around and...

Gigi almost dropped her clipboard.

Lulu evaporated like smoke—along with the workmen, the noise, the past few weeks.

He filled all her available vision and everything else was reduced to the horizon.

She took a step towards him. Stopped. He looked different. He’d cut his hair, and although he remained clean shaven there was stubble. He wore a suit.

She hated suits. But maybe it was better to see him like this. As he was. A ruthless businessman with his own agenda.

Only the eyes that met hers were not those of a businessman.

They were hot—and starved.