Divas (36 page)

Ugh. And with that thought, Evie couldn’t help remembering her own relationship with Lola’s father Benny. Duck head, look up coyly from under your lashes, ask in a little voice if
you can please have that lovely Gucci bag you saw on West Broadway this afternoon, the one you just can’t live without. Only Evie had had to do a lot more for Benny than Lola ever had . .
.

Had Benny been consciously aware of how much the mistress he’d picked looked like his daughter, Evie wondered? Or had he been blissfully unaware of how weird his desires might have seemed
to anyone who put his daughter and his mistress side by side and made him look at how alike they were?

At least he never made me call him ‘Daddy’,
Evie reflected with considerable gratitude
. I’d be throwing up in my mouth right now if I remembered him ever doing
anything like that.

‘I loved my father very much, ’ Lola was saying to Lawrence. Pale, beautiful as an angel in a painting, her expression was utterly sincere. ‘It’s not just about making
sure I don’t go to jail for killing him. I want her to pay the price for what she did.’

‘You mean his wife?’ Lawrence prompted.

Lola nodded vigorously. ‘I know she killed him. There’s no other explanation for why they’re trying to frame me like this, why she got the nurse to lie. That’s why we
need you.’

She reached out, and put one small hand, its ring glittering, on top of Lawrence’s.

Lawrence looked from her to Evie.

‘Aren’t you putting the cart before the horse?’ he asked. ‘I mean, you don’t even know if you can get me in.’

Lola shook her head.

‘No, that’s all taken care of, ’ she said, gesturing at her cellphone, which was lying on the futon. ‘I rang a friend while I was waiting.’ She smiled dryly.
‘Maybe one of the very few friends I’ve got left. She’s pulling some strings, but she’s pretty sure she can manage it. She knows someone who’ll give you the most
amazing recommendation.’

‘Are you serious?’ Evie exclaimed.

‘It’s almost definite, ’ Lola confirmed. She had never taken her eyes off Lawrence. ‘We can get you a job as Carin’s personal trainer.’

‘M
iss Carin?’ Panio, Carin’s handsome butler-cum-manservant, said nervously as he swung the front door open. Spotting the orange
Hermès bags hanging from Carin’s wrist, each one tied exquisitely with the signature brown
bolduc
Hermès ribbon, Panio reached for them deferentially. ‘Let me take
those for you! Um, and Miss Carin, your three o’clock is here.’

His tone suggested that it was considerably past three by now, but that Panio wasn’t brave enough to point that out to Carin. That morning he had slipped and called her ‘Mrs
Fitzgerald’ – a title she had banned from the house ever since her husband died – and her wrath had been so extreme that he was terrified now of rousing it again.

‘My three o’clock?’ Carin frowned, peeling off her coat – white cashmere, silk-lined, and so slim-cut that it could be worn only over the lightest of clothes.
‘Panio, this coat needs to be overnight dry-cleaned every single time I wear it, you understand? I want it back in my coat cupboard by tomorrow morning.’

‘Of course, Miss Carin, ’ Panio said, draping the coat over his arm with as much reverence as if he were a lowly deacon cradling an archbishop’s gold-embroidered chasuble.
‘I’ll call them to pick it up right away.’

‘No, ’ Carin snapped. ‘Take it there yourself. Now. Those lazy bastards take forever to come over. It was
half an hour
last time.’

She was walking over to the huge mirror in the hall, which reflected the Japanese screen on the opposite wall: two panels of silvered paper on which a few delicate brush-strokes had created a
mountain scene, hills covered in snow, a single traveller on an oxcart just cresting one of the peaks. She stared at it for a moment. ‘Time to rotate the art, Panio. Take this one down and
hang the screen with the dragon instead.’ She flashed herself a smile in the mirror, her pale blue eyes cold as ice. ‘It fits in much better with my mood.’

‘Of course, Miss Car—’

‘And what was my three o’clock?’

She leaned into the mirror, fractionally adjusting a short strand of hair. Frédéric, her stylist, had, to his credit, been nothing but gleeful when she had walked into his studio a
few weeks ago with her hair shorn: he had cropped the sides a little more and teased the front lightly into a short, dramatic sideways sweep of pure, natural white-blonde, fixing it with the
lightest of products. It looked wonderful. She woke up every morning feeling free as a bird, not fettered down any longer by that wretched mane of hair her husband had insisted she keep.

Of course, she also felt free as a bird because she wasn’t fettered any longer by her wretched husband.

Carin’s smile of triumph at this thought was so frightening that Panio averted his gaze from her as he answered:

‘The new trainer, Miss Carin. He’s waiting in the gym.’

Carin clicked her tongue.

‘I completely forgot about him!’ She frowned. ‘I was hoping it was the architect. I can’t
wait
to gut this house and remodel it. Strip it all the way down and
start again.’

Get rid of every last trace of my husband,
she meant.
Of course, I could move in a second to anywhere in the world I wanted: but that wouldn’t be half as much fun as erasing him
from the house he made his own, would it?

The surge of excitement this gave Carin made her feel restless suddenly, a wave of energy that her shopping rampage at Hermès must have failed to satisfy.

‘I’ll see the trainer, ’ she decided. ‘Tell him I’ll be down in ten minutes. Oh, and Panio?’ She flicked the exquisite pale green-white trumpet lily in the
vase by the mirror. ‘I’m bored with lilies. Find me something else to go here. Something more unusual than this. And very expensive-looking. Something that no one else has.’ She
turned to look at Panio, who was visibly wilting under this stream of com-mands.‘And Panio? I want it here by the time I’ve finished with the trainer.’

Well!
Carin thought as she entered the gym.
This one’s certainly interesting!

Because Carin was unable to keep herself from having sex with any man who worked for her, she went through personal trainers like a flu sufferer did tissues. A man had to be very good, and very
accommodating, to keep Carin interested: Panio and Rico, in their very different ways, both had what it took. As had the little nurse, Joe. And God knew they were all paid well enough for the
privilege of doing the boss.

Carin didn’t have women friends. But then, most New York society women were the same: they had social acquaintances instead, who functioned on a complex barter system for invitations,
parties, and tips on the best facialist or plastic surgeon. This latest piece of young male meat had been recommended to Carin by Lady Julia Listwood, someone she hadn’t heard from in a
while: but Lady Julia had been simply
dying
, she’d said, to tell a few friends about her new trainer.

From the look of Lady Julia, Carin was surprised she even used a trainer; dumpiness ran in the family, or on Lady Julia’s side of it, at least. Both her daughters had inherited their
mother’s pear shape, and poor moon-faced India was no beauty – at least Sylvia, the older one, had her mother’s aristocratic bone structure. But Lady Julia was impeccably
well-connected, and though she could be an awful bore, she never bothered to ring people to let them know about something new and exciting unless she really thought it was worthwhile.

Carin stood in the doorway of the gym, surveying the man who was balancing in a perfect handstand in the centre of the stretching area.
Lovely tight ass
, she observed.
A little leaner
than I usually like, but nice definition. And fairly hairless, apart from that ghastly ponytail. I wonder if he waxes?
Watching him, her tongue slid out and slowly traced the contours of her
narrow lips. She felt her nipples tighten. Yes, she definitely owed Lady Julia for this one.

The trainer lowered both of his legs to the ground, slowly, under complete control. He straightened up and looked gravely at Carin. She couldn’t tell whether he’d been aware of her
presence or not, and that impressed her: Carin was so used to being in control of her surroundings, and of the impact she made on those around her, that the fact this man wasn’t visibly fazed
by her was a pleasant change.

She’d break him, of course. Make him jump to attention. But this was a nice little challenge.

‘Mrs Fitzgerald—’ the trainer started.

‘Just Carin, ’ she interrupted. ‘I never liked Fitzgerald.’ She smiled. ‘I’ll be reverting to my maiden name soon.’

Just as soon as that idiot daughter is convicted
, she thought.
It wouldn’t look too good to do it during the trial, now, would it?

‘I’m Lawrence, ’ he said, crossing the room, reaching out his hand to shake hers.

‘Well, Lawrence, what do you propose for me?’ Carin said, holding his hand and looking into his eyes. Lawrence was about to withdraw his hand – she could feel it – but
she held on for a few more seconds. He would have to learn that she ran things around here, not him. Goodness, he was handsome. He had the face of a classical sculpture; long straight nose, large
clear grey eyes, full lips.

She imagined that calm, handsome face later on, working hard between her legs as she sat in the thigh adductor machine and spread them wide. The picture made her lower stomach twitch with
anticipation. She’d ride him hard this first time, show him how things worked here, down in her private gym with its mirrors and its machines, so many of which could be adapted for other and
more interesting purposes. And if he were any good, she’d give him the kind of bonus that would make him try even harder to please her the next time.

Lawrence was looking her up and down, not a shred of anything but professional interest in his eyes. Carin was all too used to being surveyed by men, and she knew that she had never been in
better shape. Her Stella McCartney steel-grey capri leggings and white racerback sleeveless top showed her long slender body off perfectly. No bra, she barely needed one: and besides, she liked to
see men’s expressions as they watched her nipples, which were disproportionately large for her small breasts, move and harden against the shiny Lycra-mix fabric. Her long waist meant that a
good couple of inches of her dead-white skin were exposed below the hem of her top, and her stomach was as flat and smooth as a lacquered piece of ivory. It should be, after the money she’d
spent on SmartLipo.

She posed, turning on her heel, giving him a view of her back, her small tight buttocks flowing into long, long legs.

‘I have to be honest, ’ Lawrence commented as Carin finished her rotation. ‘All you need is maintenance work, Mrs –
Carin
, ’ he corrected himself.
‘Your waist is as narrow as you can make it, your shoulders haven’t been over-worked. You don’t have any over-aggregation of muscle that we need to stretch out. I can happily
train you and work with you, but I can’t promise any changes, because there aren’t any to be made.’

Carin laughed, an almost-silent laugh that nevertheless opened her mouth wide, showing her sharp white teeth.

‘Flattery, ’ she said, ‘will get you everywhere with me.’ Her ice-blue eyes gleaming, she slid her tongue over her lips. ‘And I mean
everywhere
.’

She dipped her gaze down to the front of his track pants. No movement there that she could see, not even with that clear innuendo; but then, the pants were fairly loose. Carin liked her trainers
to wear tighter leggings. She’d have to mention that to him for the future.

‘Let’s get you on the cross-trainer, ’ Lawrence suggested. ‘We’ll do a warm-up, then I’ll measure your recovery rates. And after that, I’d like to do
some Power Plate work. Check your posture in various positions. It’s a great invention, the Power Plate, but you have to use them right. So let’s make sure you are.’

Okay, I see how you want to handle this,
Carin thought.
Workout first, play later. I can respect that. This guy is nothing but professional. And after all, it’ll build the
anticipation
. . .

‘I’ll finish by stretching you out, ’ Lawrence said. ‘After that, I’ll have a good sense of your body. We can do some massage too, if you want.’

‘Oh, I’m sure I’ll want, ’ Carin said, smiling to herself. ‘Absolutely sure.’

He’s amazing
, Carin thought dazedly, an hour and a half later.
Unbelievable. No one’s ever done anything like that to me before.
She stretched out her
feet, pointing her toes, rotating her wrists slowly, gradually coming back to full consciousness.

‘God, ’ she purred, looking up into Lawrence’s eyes. ‘You are
fantastic
.’

‘Thank you!’ he said, sitting back on his heels.

‘I’m sure you get that a lot, ’ Carin said dreamily. She turned her head from side to side. ‘Your hands are
magic
. God. When you did that thing to my breasts . .
.’

Carin closed her eyes, remembering the sensation of his hands running over her breasts, her buttocks. She raised one of her hands, stroking where Lawrence had done, feeling how hard the nipple
was, how swollen it had become when he touched her. He’d known exactly what she needed – she hadn’t had to say a word, give one command or instruction. That was unbelievably rare
in a man. He’d be walking away with a huge bonus today.

Lawrence cleared his throat.

‘I massaged your back, your shoulders and your pectorals, ’ he corrected.

‘You certainly did.’ Carin writhed a little as she remembered it.

‘I know it’s rarely done, but in my opinion it’s an essential part of sports massage, ’ Lawrence continued. ‘Those chest muscles tighten up there just like any
other ones, and we did a lot of push-ups today. It’s good to work out the knots straight away.’

‘And now it’s my turn to work out your knots, don’t you think?’

Carin sat up, swinging her legs underneath her. She reached down to the hem of her top and wriggled it off in one smooth motion. Her nipples, big and dark, were full and hard just thinking about
Lawrence’s hands on them. Smiling at him, she made pincers of her fingers, taking hold of her nipples, pinching them till it hurt, watching his face all the time.