Friends & Rivals (39 page)

She'd been living in Los Angeles for six months now, away from England and home, and (crucially) away from her father Dave. Ava loved her dad dearly, but Dave Bentley had controlled every aspect of his daughter's life before
Talent Quest
, with Ivan Charles doing the same during the show's run. At eighteen, and with a bright future in front of her, Ava needed to break out from under her father's wing. Had she stayed in London, under Ivan's management, she knew this would never have happened. Dave and Ivan would have been all over her, monitoring her friends, her social life, interfering in all her career decisions. So when Jack Messenger came out of the woodwork offering not only to help her forge a US career, but to provide her with a convenient escape route, Ava grabbed it with both hands. Yes, she was young and sweet and naïve in the ways of business and the world generally. But Ava Bentley was also ambitious and she knew her own mind. She felt sorry for Ivan, who had helped her so much during
Talent Quest
, and for Kendall Bryce who'd been so kind. But the truth was, JSM had made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

It had been the best decision of her life. From the moment she stepped off the plane, Ava adored LA. Up until that point, her only experience of ‘abroad' had been family camping holidays in the Dordogne, so California seemed wildly exotic – with its blazing sunshine, its ubiquitous palm trees and its freeways that seemed to stretch wider than the English Channel. Everything about living here was an adventure, from the accents, to the giant plates of food they served in every restaurant, to the cars that were bigger than Ava's family's cottage in Hutton-le-Hole. Because she was still unknown in the US – her days were spent in the studio, recording tracks for her new album – and because both Jack and Lex made it their business to protect her, she had no exposure to the tacky, aggressive, seedy side of Hollywood life. As a result, Ava thought LA quite the friendliest, most pleasant and unfairly maligned city in the world. She couldn't imagine what had possessed Kendall to leave it.

Then again, Kendall was riding high in Europe at the moment, with her album topping the charts from London to Lisbon and Athens to Antibes. Plus she and Ivan had married and, if the gossip magazines were anything to go by, they were blissfully happy. So it had all worked out all right in the end. All Ava needed to do was follow her lead, launch a hit album here in the States and find a love of her own.

Of course, as far as she was concerned she'd already found him. In Ava's eyes, Lex Abrahams was the perfect man. Handsome, dark (she'd never been into blonds), kind, funny and phenomenally successful. He was also older (mature, exciting), and hugely artistically talented in his own right. Basically, he was far too good for her, an unattainable dream. But Ava had chased one of those before, and here she was in Los Angeles, about to launch her debut album. She wouldn't forgive herself if she didn't at least try.

Although Jack was Ava's official manager, and it was Jack who had negotiated her two-album deal with Columbia Records (‘That's Columbia as in Celine Dion,' he'd explained to a totally overexcited Ava on the day they signed), day to day she spent most of her time with Lex. This was partly because she couldn't drive and therefore needed regular lifts, which Lex was good-natured enough to provide. He also took an active interest in her image, working closely with Columbia's own photographers and art consultants to try to come up with the right look with which to launch the Ava Bentley brand on an unsuspecting American public. In Britain, the entire country had watched Ava battle her way through the gruelling audition rounds. They knew her family history, her humble background, and were invested in her story. Here in America she was quite literally a nobody. Jack was happy to let Lex step in to help with the artistic side, it had always been his forte, but again it meant that Lex and Ava spent a good number of business hours in one another's company. And finally there was their friendship.

When Jack first signed Ava to JSM, Lex had been livid. To be honest, the entire JSM staff had raised eyebrows at the decision. This wasn't like signing The Blitz, an established group who could be helped to make a US comeback. This was some kid from an obscure English reality show. It made no sense.

But gradually, once they came to hear her sing and saw how adorable and unspoilt and engaging she was, literally the Anti-Kendall, people started to change their minds. By the time Jack landed Ava the Columbia deal, nobody was surprised. The kid's likeability factor was off the charts. And nobody liked her more than Lex Abrahams. Indeed, it hadn't been until Lex started working with Ava that it truly hit him how fucked-up he'd been over Kendall. For the last three years now, his emotional life had seesawed in accordance with Kendall Bryce's actions. Her trip to England, her defection to Polydor, her trip to LA – and using him for those awful pictures, her wedding to Ivan. None of these events had been
about
Lex. The truth was that, for Kendall, his existence barely even registered. Yet Lex had allowed his own happiness to hang on Kendall's every move. No amount of material or professional success, not even finding a beautiful, lovely, understanding girlfriend like Leila had been able to shake him out of this awful, destructive dependence.

But then Ava had come into his life – this funny, chatty, positive little kid, this ball of energy and optimism – and something shifted. He certainly wasn't in love with Ava. Not only was she only eighteen, but she was a young eighteen, as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as a Labrador puppy. But she was fun. She made him laugh all the time. Working with her was exciting, and being with her was like plugging yourself into a wall of electricity. Despite the age gap, the culture gap, the everything gap, Ava Bentley had snuck up on him and become a real friend. Until he met her, Lex hadn't realized quite how much he'd needed one.

At the hairstylist's, Ava who'd been daydreaming about exactly how Lex would eventually propose to her (either on the beach in Malibu or back on the village green in Hutton-le-Hole; she hadn't quite pinned down the fantasy yet) when she suddenly glanced back up at the mirror and screamed.

‘My hair!'

‘What's the matter?' Eduardo asked innocently.

‘What's the matter?' Ava shrieked. ‘It's gone! It's all bloody gone, that's what's the matter. Oh my God! Columbia are going to go spare.'

‘I don't know what that means,' said Eduardo nonchalantly, ‘but your hair is not all gone. Look. Here it is.' He ran his hand lovingly through her short pixie cut, spiking it this way and that, like a sculptor thoughtfully moulding clay. ‘In any case, I am not feeneeshed. Next, we color. Then, we style. Very, very sexy. You will see.'

It was another two and half hours before Ava did see, two hours during which Eduardo had insisted she also submit to having her eyebrows shaped (thankfully the stylist was gentler than Sveva and used threading rather than the hated tweezers) and her eyelashes dyed to ‘complement' her new look. And what a look it was. Ava barely recognized herself.

Her hair was indeed very short, although thanks to some inexplicable, scissor-related magic, it didn't look harsh and masculine as she'd feared, but instead gently licked her face like a soft crown, the layers folded on top of one another like perfectly cut slivers of silk. She couldn't stop touching them. As for the colour, the closest word Ava could think of to describe it was silver. Although more of a blonde than a grey, there was an iridescence to it that illuminated her face, emphasizing cheekbones she never knew she had and bringing out the blueness in her eyes. Or perhaps it was the subtly arched eyebrows that did that, or the inky lashes that looked ten shades blacker next to the gleaming light-bomb that was the rest of her hair and face? Either way, the overall effect was quite stunning. Exotic, otherworldly and yes, she had to admit it, ‘very, very sexy'.

‘You like it?' Eduardo asked proudly.

Bouncing out of the chair, Ava flung her diminutive form into his arms, leaping up at him like a silver-headed Tigger. ‘I love it,' she squealed excitedly. ‘I totally and completely love it.'

Lex was the first to arrive at Sushi Roku. Sitting down alone at the table for eight he ordered a beer and some
edamame
. He was in roaring spirits. JSM's quarterly figures had come in that morning. He knew they were going to be good, but reading them in black and white had been quite a feeling, an adrenaline rush like he hadn't had since the early, heady days of forming the company, back when it was just him and Jack. They now had four really big-hitting acts on their books: Land of the Greeks, Frankie B, Martina Munoz and The Blitz who, contrary to Lex's misgivings, had started to make the agency big money right away, selling out stadiums across the US with their live tour as if they'd never been away. True, plenty of the smaller Jester acts that Jack had snaffled from Ivan had been a waste of time, sinking deal-less without trace after only a few months. But it wasn't as if they'd wasted much money promoting them. Plus, they still had Ava Bentley, who Lex was now convinced would turn out to be their ace in the hole. He'd spent most of today discussing locations for the video shoots Ava would do next week, in the run-up to the August release of her debut album,
Pure.
Lex hadn't supported the title at first, arguing vehemently against it to anyone who would listen at Columbia. He felt it made Ava sound too sickly, too goody-goody; that it didn't convey the spirited, merry nature that went with her innocence. But again it was Jack who'd changed his mind.

‘It's not about her character. It's about her sound. Just listen to the vocals on those tracks. Not a whisper of breath, man.'

He was right. And over time the visual possibilities that went with that title, be it for album cover shots, videos or promotional branding, began to look more and more appealing. The location he'd seen today, a hidden waterfall and natural pool up in the redwood forests of Northern California, was a photographer's dream.

Ava's publicist Jen Gomez was the next to arrive at the restaurant, followed by Liam Haines, the main producer on
Pure
and the rest of the Columbia crew. Jack showed up shortly afterwards with Lisa Marie, whom he was still casually dating, looking almost as happy with life as Lex. After a strained few months, relations between the two JSM partners were almost back to normal. The fact that the company was printing money certainly helped to oil the wheels of reconciliation.

‘Where's the guest of honour?' Lisa Marie asked Lex. ‘Didn't she come with you?'

‘Uh uh. I just flew down from Napa, remember? Awesome location by the way, it's gonna be perfect for
Feel the Rain.
'

‘Should we have sent a driver for her?' The most junior member of the Columbia contingent looked nervous. ‘I didn't realize.'

‘Hi, guys.'

The whole table turned and started open-mouthed at the vision who'd just walked in. She walked like Ava. She talked like Ava. But she looked like nothing on earth. Beneath her iridescent helmet of silver-blonde hair, she'd gone for dark, dramatic kohl-rimmed eyes, highlighted cheekbones and pale lips. She wore tight black leather pants, spiked Louboutin boots and a sexy, off-the-shoulder cotton T-shirt in faded grey from L'Agence. The little girl from Yorkshire was gone, transformed overnight into an ethereal, punk Barbarella.

‘What do you think?' She twirled around, enjoying everyone's astonishment but anxious for a sign of approval from Lex. ‘More sophisticated?'

Jen Gomez was the first to find her voice. ‘You look incredible,' she said truthfully. ‘Sexy as all hell. But it's a big departure.'

‘Not exactly “pure”,' muttered Liam Haines under his breath, but he said it with a whistle of admiration.

Jack stood up and led Ava to her seat. ‘You look terrific,' he said encouragingly. A more experienced artist would never have made such a drastic change to their image without clearing it with their stylists and PR people first. But no one could deny that Ava looked ravishing, not to mention extremely commercially appealing. Columbia had been talking for weeks about ways to sex her up. They wouldn't have to talk any more.

‘What about you?' Ava turned to Lex. ‘Do you like it?'

N
o, thought Lex.
I hate it. You're just a kid, for God's sake.
The truth was, she looked amazing. Too amazing. He didn't hate the look, he hated himself for the way it made him feel. It wasn't just the hair and make-up, it was the clothes, accentuating a smoking hot body that he had genuinely never noticed before. How was that possible? The Ava he knew had apple cheeks, wore sweatpants and got the giggles in his car quoting
The Simpsons
. He'd seen that Ava only yesterday, but now she was gone, swallowed up by this disturbing, erotic impostor. Why did that bother him so much?

‘Lex?'

‘You look good,' he said guardedly.

Ava's face fell at his lack of enthusiasm. ‘You don't like it.'

‘I didn't say that,' said Lex. ‘It's a shock, that's all.'

‘Let's order,' said Jack, breaking the tension with his bonhomie. ‘This is supposed to be a celebration, remember? I for one can't celebrate on an empty stomach.'

Ava put on a brave face, forcing a smile as toast after toast was made in her honour, and thanking all the relevant people for their contributions to
Pure.
But inside she was dying. It had all been for nothing. Sure, it was a relief that Jen and the others approved of her dramatic new style. But the one person she'd really wanted to impress wore an aggrieved frown of grievance on his face, as if she'd just stolen his wallet or run over his cat. As for responding to her sexually, as a woman, Lex showed considerably more interest in his chicken robata than he did in the Burberry trousers that had cost Ava two weeks' wages.
I could strip naked and dance on his sashimi salad, and he still wouldn't notice me.