A Kept Woman (24 page)

She’d relished every whistle and whoop even as she pretended to ignore them. Male validation, Diana told herself, its what I need right now.

Her mood had improved. At twelve thirty today, she had a meeting with Herb, the best, hardest divorce lawyer in Manhattan. Hearing the name Foxton, the assistant had instantly cleared a time slot for her. She’d show Ernie where he could stick his two hundred and fifty grand. If he was left without a cent, it wouldn’t be her fault.

Meanwhile, she had to deal with Michael.

Her boss was already waiting for her. Diana took in the dark suit, the black shoes, the thickly muscled chest. Cicero looked the same as he always did. She felt a small, flesh surge of nervous adrenaline. What the hell kind of hoop was he going to have her jump through this

morning? More work? Like she needed that right now. ‘I’m here,’ she said, bluntly.

Cicero looked her over. What a gorgeous creature she was. He mentally peeled off the light cotton from those stupendous breasts and that grade-A ass. She annoyed him, the way she was so effortlessly perfect every second of the day. How he’d love to slide that tight skirt up over the creamy rounds of her butt, push her over his desk,

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and trace his name with the tip of his tongue across the freckled valley of her breasts. He thought he could have those nipples hard and dark as sea-washed pebbles in twenty seconds. He imagined her losing her composure, that glossy hair sweaty and tangled as it fell across his chest, the flat stomach bucking against him, her elegant fingers clutching at him as she wriggled about under him …

Michael made himself look up. He was glad these pants had a roomy cut. He mustn’t allow this girl to cause him any loss of control. Besides which, she was married. She was fully off-limits.

He’d bet she’d squirm like an eel, though.

‘So I see.’ His voice was remarkably businesslike and calm. ‘I’ve .got some more work I’d like to try you out on.’

‘I think. I have all the work I can handle.’

‘That’s for me to decide,’ Michael told her, b!untly. ‘I want you to look over some more pictures and designs.’

‘What for?’ Diana tossed back her gleaming dark hair. He thought about catching it, and wadding it in her mouth while he roped her hands and feet together and played with her until she was lifting her body up to him, helplessly. ‘You don’t file pictures. Don’t tell me you want to start filing all the pictures as well.’

He grinned down at her. It was the most cocky, annoying grin imaginabl.

‘What are you going to do - stamp your foot?’ he asked.

Diana’s face darkened. ‘I’m not in the mood.’

‘Too bad, if I am,’ Cicero said.

He twisted the key in the lock of the door. It was quaint, the way these offices opened with a key. Upstairs it was all codes and passwords. Diana noted how Cicero hated overheads. What a contrast to her husband’s - was he still her husband? - yen for luxury. How much was

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the private jet, the two choppers, the monthly flights out to Atlantic City and the golf-club schmoozing for the super-agents and star writers costing his shareholders? Plenty, but Ernie didn’t care about OPM, other people’s money. Only his own, from which he’d almost completely cut her off.

There was a heavy tread on the stairs. She turned to see a besuited man coming towards them. She recognised him, it was Reggie Shropton, one of Ernie’s in-house lawyers.

‘Hello, Reggie,’ Diana said politely.

A faint spot of red.rose to the pallid centre of his cheeks and he didn’t look up. He was clutching two sets of papers.

‘Hello, Mrs Foxton.’ She blinked; it used to be.Diana. ‘Mr Cicero. I am afraid I have some papers for you.’

Cicero reached out and grabbed them. ‘Papers already? Starting early this morning, huh?’

‘In a manner of speaking.’ He lifted his head and stared at Michael with fishy eyes. ‘I’ll have to ask you to give me that key.’

‘Excuse me?’ Cicero snapped.

‘These are termination papers for yourself and Mrs Foxton. Every other employee at Green Eggs has been served. The company is withdrawing its stake and closing down the operation at this time. As per your contract, a month’s salary is enclosed in lieu of notice.’

For a second Michael said nothing. He was trying to process the information, and it didn’t compute.

‘I suppose it would be far too much to hope that you’re joking.’

‘I never joke,’ Reggie said thinly.

‘Apparently somebody at Blakely’s does, though. I have a contract.’

‘With a company consolidation clause, valid for the first eight months, that invalidates further obligations on

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the part of Blakely’s, including office space, overheads, health plans - and bonuses,’ Reggie said. There was ,a nasty glitter in his eye.

Diana recognised it. It was a favourite look of Ernie’s. Her heart dropped. Her job had evaporated. As little as it had been, it was all she had.

‘I’ll have to ask you both to leave. I hope you can do so quietly and not force me to call security,’ the lawyer said.

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Diana said quietly. She nodded to Cicero. ‘We’re leaving. You can tell my husband he will be hearing from my lawyer later today.’

‘And mine,’ Michael Cicero added. His thick, bull-like neck was red with anger.

‘Certainly,’ Reggie Shropton said, in a tone that implied he eeally didn’t care.

They wal[(ed out together. It was a nasty experience. Holding on to the severance forms, they passed several Blakely’s staff as the elevator spat them out into the lobby. Janet Jensen was one; she gave a nasty little snigger as Diana brushed past her.

Michael Cicero said absolutely nothing to her, but she could feel the anger prickling out of his skin, like the static on a balloon. Wordlessly, he took her arm and shepherded her ficross Seventh Avenue. He was silent until they got to Broadway and Fifty-first. Then he yanked his hand from her elbow and glared down into her eyes.

‘What the hell is going on here?’

‘How would I know?’ Diana asked, angrily brushing her hair back. ‘Don’t look at me as if I had something to do with this.’

Cicero gave a short bark of laughter. ‘Man, that’s a good one. You little English girls can sound so sweet and innocent when you feel like it. It’s almost as if I didn’t

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know you were married to that weak little jerk on the sixteenth floor.’

Diana bit back the retort. Doubtless her divorce would

be all over the papers tomorrow, but until that happened, he didn’t need to know everything. The sun sparkled on the glass of the skyscrapers and over the billboards advertising the Broadway shows. She was standing on the sidewalk, but she felt unbalanced, almost like she was dreaming. The whole situation was surreal.

‘I didn’t know a thing about this,’ she said, ice cold.

‘I’m not privy to everything Ernie does. I got fired, too.’ ‘Bullshit.’

‘Do you mind not using that language?’ she said, primly.

He stared at her, like she was from anothe planet.

‘You know what, lady? I do mind. Funny, huh? A man works all his life to start a company. Nights. Days. Sleeps on the floor. Gets something good out there. Turns down other deals. Takes this one - and gets shut down, overnight, by - what? A blackguard? A bounder? I prefer to say asshole. I think it’s more accurate.’

‘I worked hard enough at that company. If you didn’t

cover yourself legally it’s not my fault.’

‘Right.’ Michael’s dark eyes drilled into her. He was so bestial, so ferocious. A million miles away from Ernie’s thin, spiteful little body, ‘You worked, sure - like Marie Antoinette playing at being a milkmaid. Now what? You whistle up your chauffeur and go back to your Central Park penthouse.’

‘That’s not fair,’ Diana said, sullenly.

‘The hell it’s not. You want to know why you were so

disliked by the girls in the office?’

‘Not particularly.’

‘Well, I’ll tell you anyway. You talked to them about a

drink after work and dropping them off where t.hey live.

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They barely make rent; you’re boasting about your chauffeur-driven limo.’

Diana flushed. ‘I wasn’t boasting. I was offering them’ a ride.’

‘How many office dogsbodies do you think get driven to work, Diana?’

‘Dogsbody,’ Diana snarled, ‘right. That’s what I was to you. A dog. Somebody you enjoyed kicking around just because she had a bit more money and a bit more class than the rest of you. Nothing but shabby jealousy. I made an effort for your wretched little company.’

‘Wretched, huh? Is that what you told your husband when you ran upstairs with your spy’s report?’

Diana was enraged. ‘I didn’t spy on you. Why don’t you stop b!aming other people for your problems and look in the mirror. Or better still, stop whining and do somethin about it.’

What a bitch she was, Michael thought. Beautiful, but such a bitch.

‘That’s a great idea. I’m going to see my lawyer.’ The too,’ Diana said. ‘Goodbye, Mr Cicero.’

She turned on her heel and walked away from him.

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‘You did what?’

Herb Brillstein, the lawyer Claire recommended, stared at her in horror. The chair she was sitting in, expensive dark-green leather though it was, suddenly seemed very uncomfortable. Diana shifted in her seat. She glanced out over Fifth Avenue, looking serene and calm from the eighteenth-floor offices of Brillstein, Brooks, the most savage divorce lawyers in Manhattan. When she rang, they had fallen over themselves to get her into their offices. Ernest Foxton’s wife. But during her introductory session with the head of the firm, Diana felt the temperature drop several degrees every minute.

“You departed from the marital home? Voluntarily? And you haven’t contacted your husband in weeks? And you weren’t working, but you took paid employment?’

‘That’s right.’ Diana blushed. ‘I just didn’t want to be around him.’

‘So you let him move into a hotel. You haven’t been married long, Mrs Foxton, less than a year. Your position is very weak. You need. to move back into your home immediately. How long were you dating before you married?’

‘Two years,’ Diana muttered.

‘Maybe we can work with that. But you must go home, Mrs Foxton. At once.’

Diana left the office feeling rather dazed. The lawyer. made it all sound so simple, but she hadn’t thought that

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way. ‘Take possession of the marital home.’ She hadn’t expected divorce; only for Ernie to see the error he had made and to come crawling back to her. Diana shivered in the thin winter sun. Was her mistake going to be fatal? Reconciliation was not a possibility. Not with Felicity’s laugh still haunting her nights. She didn’t want to go home, and the immigration lawyer had said that she could stay as her marriage to an American citizen was made in good faith. The dinner parties, written up in the New York tabloids, proved that. But now she had lost even the shitty little job she had. She wondered how much her lawyer would charge per hour, and winced. Offices like his carried a lot of overhead. Yes, it was imperative to get a decent wad of cash out of Ernie. If he had to bite te bullet and live with him for a few months, so be it.

Diana had no illusions. Ernie had fired Michael Cicero like he had fired many men before him. But he krew that she was working in that office too. The firing had been a deliberate insult.

She was going to have a fight on her hands.

She had no idea how big a fight.

Her cab pulled up outside their building on Central Park West, and Diana stepped out carefully, trying to avoid getting salt stains from the icy slush on her Ralph Lauren brogues. She had selected her outfit with care; a dark Donna Karan dress with a Hermes bag, simple and classic. She was carefully made-up, and her blond hair was secured in a neat chignon. So far the press had not got wind of the separation, of her firing, but if a snapper was there, Diana wanted to be ready for them. She considered removing her sunglasses from her bag, but decided against it. It might look to Ernie as though she wanted to hide red-rimmed eyes, and Diana was not prepared to show weakness.

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She stepped through the door and made for the elevator.

‘Excuse me, madam.’ It was the deep Texas twang of Brad, the security guard. He approached her, blushing

slightly, and hung his head. ‘Do you have an

appointment?’

‘Of course not. I live here.’

Brad’s flush deepened. ‘I’m afraid you’ll need an

appointment to see Mr Foxton, ma’am.’

Diana’s brow arched delicately.

‘You know me, Bradley. I’m Diana Foxton. Mrs Foxton.’ She unsnapped her bag, letting her engagement ring sparkle in the light, and fished out her keys. ‘See? I live in the penthouse. I can show myself up.’

‘I’m sorry, ma’am. The apartment is only in your husband’s name. He’s informed the building management not to let you up.’

Diana breathed in sharply. A bolt of anger and fear surged through her.

‘You might want to give me those keys,’ Brad suggested, taking a step towards her.

Diana drew herself up and stopped him dead in his tracks with a single, icy glance.

‘Don’t even think about touching me unless you and your company want to be sued for assault. I’m keeping these keys.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ The guard stepped back instantly. ‘But you’ll find they won’t work any more. Mr Foxton asked us to let you know, if you turned up, that he had the locks changed.’

She shook her head. ‘Very well; I’ll be back with a warrant.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Brad said, politely and implacably.

She went back to her rental place and called Herb Brillstein:

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‘Damn. You never should have moved out.’

‘Well, I did,’ Diana snapped. ‘How do we fix this?’

need to take him to court. We’ll retain you on a no

win no-fee basis, so don’t be concerned about that.’ ‘If you win, how much is your fee?’ she asked.