Love notes (23 page)

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Authors: Avis Exley

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Aiden thought it a crime to hide
Erika’s gorgeous body and kissed each of her breasts goodbye before
pulling on her camisole for her. Erika giggled and helped him with
his jeans, thinking what she might do to him if they had the whole
night together again.

“You’re the sexiest man who ever
walked this earth,” she purred, throwing herself back across the
bed to watch him dress.

“There are thousands of Ben
Ridley fans who’d disagree.” He feigned disapproval. “You look like
you enjoy kissing him too much. It’s jealousy that’s made me so
horny tonight.”

Erika knelt up and put her arms
around Aiden’s neck. “In which case, I have the best of both
worlds. If kissing Ben makes you want me this much, I intend
kissing him all the more.”

Had they had the time, Aiden
would have thrown Erika back down onto the bed and shown her
exactly how wild his jealousy had made him but they heard a gentle
tap on the door and Richard calling their names.

“Kiss me one last time,” Erika
begged, suddenly serious as she surrendered herself to Aiden’s lips
and imprinted the memory of his mouth against hers.

“We’ll be together again before
you know it,” Aiden promised. “And not for a few hours stolen here
and there. For a lifetime, if we want.”

It was a future too idyllic to
be true but an image that would be all Erika had to sustain her
until she saw Aiden again – whenever that might be.

“I love you,” she whispered
against his cheek. “And I don’t think I’ll ever tire of saying
it.”

“Good. Because I never want to
stop hearing it.”

His hands shook when he helped
her back on with her coat. He pulled her toward him for one last,
gentle kiss, every nerve wanting to hold onto her for ever. But
both of them knew it wasn’t possible and Richard’s knock came
again.

All they knew for certain was,
that after that night, neither of them wanted to say goodbye
again.

Chapter Nine

 

Erika had a beautician’s
appointment was at an exclusive Mayfair spa, chosen especially by
Aiden.

“It’s ladies only,” he’d told
her the night before, calling her on a phone that Richard had
smuggled in. “Once you’re inside, the bodyguards won’t have a clue
what you’re up to.”

Leaving the disgruntled guards
behind her at reception therefore, Erika went through to the
changing rooms and undressed. She put on a bathrobe, as if
preparing for a facial, and made her way upstairs to one of the
luxurious treatment rooms. At the third door along, she knocked
before going inside where a similarly-dressed woman waited. She
stood up as soon as she saw Erika and held out her hand, smiling
warmly.

“So lovely to meet you at last,
Erika. I’m Catherine Walker. I’ve heard a great deal about
you.”

Erika had spent the past week
wondering what one of the country’s foremost entertainment lawyers
would look like but had never believed she’d meet her dressed only
in a towelling robe and flip-flops.

“I’m sorry this is all so cloak
and dagger,” Erika apologised but saw the funny side. “If my
manager knew we’re meeting…”

Catherine waved her apology
aside and laughed. “Don’t worry. It makes a change from wearing
heels.”

Erika’s mind flicked back to the
morning when she’d seduced Aiden in his suite – she obviously did
all of her best work in a bathrobe – and she savoured a few choice
moments before realising Catherine was speaking to her.

“I need a statement from you
before we finally lodge proceedings against your manager,”
Catherine explained. “Because you both live in Los Angeles, we’re
filing in California, not London.”

The mention of court action made
it suddenly feel all very real and Erika swallowed hard, knowing
she was setting foot on a one-way street that could lead her to
financial – or career – disaster.

“What are my chances of
success?” she asked, wondering whether she was really prepared for
the answer. “I can’t stay with Marty a minute longer than I have
to. He’s unbearable.”

Here Catherine flinched
slightly, professional caution preventing her from issuing any
guarantees. “You need to prepare for a fight and, from what I’ve
learned of Mr Cooper, he doesn’t exactly stick to the rules.”

“Neither have we.” Erika
mentioned the devious ways they’d come across most of the evidence
but Catherine had already taken care of it.

“You’re paying me to ensure the
papers are in order, so don’t worry.” Catherine smiled, oozing
confidence, and Erika relaxed finally. “But I wouldn’t be doing my
job properly if I didn’t warn you of the risks. Depending upon how
the courts interpret your contract, you could be liable to pay high
punitive damages for breaking it.”

“Meaning financial ruin?” Erika
drew her own conclusions when Catherine didn’t answer immediately.
“I don’t care what it costs, as long as I’m free from Marty. I can
always earn a living somehow.”

“We’re also taking action to
recover your copyright. Mr Thirstan says it’s a priority.”

“As long as I reclaim my music,
I don’t care if I’m left barefoot and bankrupt.” Erika quoted Aiden
but hoped neither figured in her future. “I want Marty out of my
life. The money’s secondary.”

“And, of course, you’ll be
financially secure once you’re married,” Catherine added, making
Erika wonder exactly what Aiden had been telling her.

“Married?”

“To Ben Ridley.” The lawyer
looked wrong-footed for a moment and assumed she’d been mistaken.
“I’m sorry. Are those just rumours?”

“No.” Relieved Aiden had kept
quiet about their own relationship, Erika rushed to embroider a
credible white lie. “Ben and I are engaged but we won’t fix a date
until after the court case. I don’t want him dragged into the
middle of all this.” She rushed to change the subject. “What’s
going to happen?”

Catherine took a deep breath.
“We first need to prove that Marty’s potentially guilty of fraud in
every country that’s holding money and then have the courts there
freeze the accounts. Teams of lawyers are standing by in
Switzerland, the Cayman Islands, and so on, ready to begin
proceedings at a moment’s notice. You have a strong case but it
could take months to unravel and, even if we’re successful, the
American tax authorities will want their share before you’ll see a
penny.”

Catherine opened her laptop and
put a microphone on the table between them. “Now I need a detailed
statement about your career and your business relationship with Mr
Cooper. Begin from the moment you met him and tell me everything
you can remember. Even the smallest detail could be vitally
important.”

Where to begin? Erika wondered,
taking a deep breath.

She closed her eyes and imagined
herself arriving in America five years earlier, heartbroken and
tear-stained, feeling like her entire world had just ended. In her
pocket were the keys to Aiden’s apartment and two new songs,
written on the flight over from London.

The lyrics now played inside her
head – dreams turned to dust, you breached my trust – reawakening
the feelings of desolation and the pain of losing Aiden. Putting an
ocean between us. Running to prove myself.

And suddenly it was as if she’d
stepped back in time and was standing in the arrivals hall, not
knowing which way to turn.

“It was June,” she began, still
hearing the unfamiliar buzz of American accents around her. “A week
after I’d graduated from York University…”

And so Erika told Catherine the
whole sorry story, reliving it for the very last time.

 

 

Erika turned and looked out of
the window when the two bodyguards climbed into the front seat of
the Range Rover, refusing to make eye contact. They weren’t bad men
– heaven knows they had enough to put up with from Marty – but she
didn’t have the heart for small talk that morning.

The two men looked at each
other, obviously thinking she was lovesick over Ben’s imminent
departure, and Erika didn’t rush to disillusion them.

Let them think what they liked.
She had enough on her mind. She closed her eyes to the world and
let the road to Heathrow airport slip by unseen. Her courage ebbed
with every mile and she worried she might not be bold enough to
follow the plan Aiden and Ben had put together so meticulously. She
didn’t want to let them down.

Couldn’t afford to let herself
down, either.

“Nothing will go wrong,” Aiden
had told her when she’d called him in the early hours of the
morning, unable to sleep for crying. “Don’t over-complicate it. Do
exactly what we’ve planned and everything will be fine.”

“I wish you were here now. I
need you so much,” she’d said, breaking down again, her tears
ripping his heart out. She longed to feel Aiden’s arms around her,
keeping her safe until the worst was over. “I don’t know whether I
have the courage to go through with it.”

“You don’t need courage. I’m
brave enough for us both. Once we’re together again I won’t let
Marty anywhere near you. Trust me.”

In theory, it sounded so
simple.

Rather than disguise her
identity, Aiden had told her to dress and act like someone who
expected to be recognised. Erika had therefore bought a vibrant red
coat from Versace, carried a Hermes handbag and wore very high
heeled, black boots from Manolo Blahnik that made her as tall as
her bodyguards. Her long, brunette hair fell around her shoulders
in lustrous curls, eye-catching enough on its own, and she’d
carefully applied her make-up to reproduce the look that magazines
and fashion editors adored for their front covers.

Even her jewellery made a
statement including the exquisite five carat diamond engagement
ring she wore conspicuously. Anyone seeing it would assume her
smile was for the love it represented and not because it was an
outrageous fake Richard had bought for a few pounds the week
before.

Erika’s sole aim was to attract
attention and, when she’d finished dressing that morning, she knew
no one would need a second look to recognise her.

The Range Rover followed Ben’s
limousine from Claridges all the way to Heathrow and pulled into an
adjacent parking bay. She took a deep breath to steady herself and
counted to ten before getting out, emerging pale and shaky. Ben was
beside her in an instant and took her in his arms to calm her.

“Be strong,” he whispered close
to her ear. “This will soon be over.” He smiled at her and wiped
away a threatened tear. “You’re a better actress than I thought.
You look genuinely upset.”

“That’s because I was up half
the night crying,” Erika said, forcing a smile. “I’m
terrified.”

“In which case, let’s hurry up
and put on a show for our public.”

He took her right hand – making
sure the left hand with its ostentatious ring remained very much on
show – and lead the way inside the terminal building, his luggage
and entourage following closely behind.

In order to create the maximum
amount of publicity, Ben had forgone the VIP lounge in favour of
the regular check-in desk, and Richard had anonymously leaked
details of Ben’s departure on social media sites. The result was a
swarm of fans and photographers waiting just inside the main doors,
eager to catch a glimpse of the hottest actor on screen and his
beautiful fiancée.

Head down, and trying not to
show how much he was enjoying the adventure, Ben forced his way
through the crowd, pulling Erika behind him toward the check-in
desk while their respective bodyguards struggled to clear a path
for them.

Erika realised they couldn’t
have created more of a stir had they walked naked through the
departure hall.

After checking in, Ben took
Erika to one side, giving the illusion of seeking privacy but still
ensuring they could be seen by fans and photographers alike. He
kissed her so passionately she half believed he was in love with
her, and that Richard didn’t figure in his future plans after
all.

“Can you imagine the Ben-Fenn
headlines in the newspaper tomorrow?” Ben joked in a whisper. “You
know you’ve made it as a couple when the paparazzi give you a
nickname.”

Erika tried to laugh but her
throat had dried up and she coughed nervously instead.

“Be careful,” Ben went on,
tightening his hold on her and ensuring the words couldn’t be lip
read. “Stay calm and stick to the plan.”

“I will. And thanks.”

Fear reduced Erika to tears but,
this time, Ben didn’t wipe them away. They’d convince onlookers
they were watching a beautiful couple, very much in love and too
upset to say goodbye.

But eventually they were forced
to break apart. Ben walked away toward passport control, glancing
back three times at Erika who stood staring after him, trying to
stop shaking long enough to move.

Despite Ben’s departure, most of
the crowd remained to block her exit and she found herself grateful
for the bodyguard on either side of her, fending off photographers
and guiding her back to the car.

“I must look terrible,” she
said, thinking out loud. “I need to fix my make-up before I go any
further.” She pointed toward the ladies’ toilets. “Please. Marty
will kill me if I’m photographed looking like this.”

Both bodyguards already had the
measure of Marty’s quirks and his heavy-handed treatment of Erika,
and escorted her across the terminal. She dodged inside the
toilets, bypassed the queues and, as arranged, knocked on the door
of the nursing mothers’ room. Inside, she was overjoyed to find
Catherine Walker waiting for her, dressed for a skiing holiday.

Despite her anxiety, Erika
laughed when she saw the lawyer had a doll in a baby carrier
hanging from her shoulders. “Is there anything you won’t do for
your clients?” Erika asked, trying hard not to giggle as she took
off her new red coat.

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