When She Was Bad... (9 page)

‘Maybe.’

Carlos doubted it somehow. Maybe his girl could pull it off. She had

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surprised him with this modelhng, wlm an something in the Englishman’s eyes he didn’t like. Ah, well - he had his own house, with his own garden, and his son had a job. So let Lira waste her time with this man. As far as her father was concerned, she could do anything she wanted to.

His girl was tough as rawhide. She wasn’t going to get hurt.

‘Thanks for that,’ Lita said, as they climbed into the cab Rupert had paid triple time to wait for them.

He kissed her on the cheek, gently. ‘What are you talking about? Your family are delightful.’

Lita felt a burst of pure love explode inside her. Oh, he was so wonderful.

‘Let’s skip the theatre,’ 1Rupert said, as though he actually did have theatre tickets, ‘and just have a romantic dinner at my place. I want to

give thanks to you for coming into my life.’

‘That would be lovely,’ Lita said.

Rupert’s apartment was a fabulous Upper East Side penthouse, with a glass wall that looked towards the park. Everything seemed serene, like you were floating above the bustle and grime of the city. He had a small marble table set for two, rather like their first dinner in New York. There was a silver ice bucket on a stand, filled with half-melted ice, with a magnum of Krug champagne nestled inside it.

‘That’s a lot of wine,’ Lira said lamely, because her heart was going so fast she had no idea what to say.

‘That’s just the first bottle. Plenty more where that came from,’ Rupert told her.

He served her caviar, salmon mousse, a whole hen lobster and smoked oysters, with a chocolate souffl4 for pudding. Lira barely tasted any of it. She got drunk on Rupert’s compliments and champagne that he never allowed to hit the bottom of her glass. Her head swam, and she told him she loved him and that she would always love him.

When IKupert took her into the bedroom and peeled off her dress, Lita stumbled back on to the bed, and had nothing but a vague, warm memory of his lips on her throat, her collarbone, and her breasts, working their way downwards.

She woke up the next morning with such a violent hangover that she hardly even noticed the soreness between her legs. She was desperately thirsty and staggered to the ffidge, where she drank an entire bottle of Evian before promptly throwing it up again.

Rupert emerged an hour later as Lira sat nursing coffee. Usually she would have asked for his permission to make it, but today she felt too ill.

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“I see you took a shower already.’

Lira was wearing one of his white towelling robes, which completely smothered her. She nodded; there had been a reddish stain on her inner

thigh. She blushed.

‘Did we …?’

‘Yes, we did. Don’t tell me you don’t remember it.’

Lita shook her head.

‘Oh, poor baby. You have a hangover. I didn’t realise you were even

tipsy, or I’d have waited. But I assure you, it was glorious.’ He smiled at her, and suddenly Lita felt a little less sick. ‘I know it was,’ she lied.

Excellent, Rupert thought. She really is very pliable. And the sooner I get her out of America and away from that god-awful family the better.

Rupert asked Lita to move in with him. She accepted joyfully. He bought her an entirely new wardrobe and made her donate all her fashionable clothes to charity. He went through her jobs, making ‘suggestions’ - no more thigh-high minis, swimsuit shoots or deep cleavage. Benson Bailey used her for several more TV campaigns. The money flowed in, and he found her an accountant to handle it. She bought houses, and gave her parents and Chico a life estate. Now she would never have to worry about them again.

P, upert became more romantic as the days passed. He stopped taking Lira to nightclubs, and contented himself with dinner parties, the Met and the ballet. Lira appeared at theatre premieres in ankle-length silk dresses with long white gloves. Sometimes she even wore her glossy hair high in a tight bun, a style Rupert approved of but Lita hated. Still, she put up with it. She was smart enough to read the signs.

Lord Lancaster was taking this relationship s6riously. He was moving her out of ‘girlfriend’ territory.

When he proposed on Valentine’s Day, with a beautiful single-carat princess-cut solitaire from Tiffany’s, and one hundred red roses scattered around the apartment, Lira was thrilled, but not all that surprised.

She had read the signs. It felt like it was meant to be. Nothing but good things could happen to her. It was destiny.

Lita put Rupert’s preoccupation in March down to stress. Benson Bailey lost a couple of accounts and, ridiculously, it seemed they blamed Rupert for it. He didn’t discuss his work with her, but Lita heard it from the girls in Bill’s office. Rupert became withdrawn, and was often

5o

closeted with his lawyers tor long hours in me attem,u,, ………… t, home until eight or later.

She pressed him for a wedding date, but Rupert put her off. ‘Plenty of time for that, darling,’ he said vaguely. ‘I can’t concentrate on the wedding the way I’d like to just yet. Couple of things I have to take care of.’

Seemingly, he also could not make time for the engagement party her mother was so desperate to throw. Lita couldn’t persuade him to drive over the bridge to see her family, but she tried to understand. If his work was suffering, it was hard to be social.

But she couldn’t rob Mama of the joy of seeing her in her triumph.

Lira went home for a weekend and showed the ring to her parents. ‘It’s so beautiful,’ Maria cooed. ‘The lord has such good taste.’

‘You must call him Rupert, Mama. He’ll be like a son to you once

we’re married. What are you going to call me, the lady?’ Maria glowed. ‘Say your married name again, chica.’ ‘Lady Lancaster,’ Lira said for the umpteenth time.

The doorbell buzzed and Maria ran to let in five middle-aged ladies, her new friends. Lira good-naturedly flashed the ring, and talked about how badly Rupert had wanted to come. She lied and said he was on a business trip. It seemed easier than telling the truth.

Chico muttered that it was great, but he had a night shift at the site to go to. ‘Maybe you give me some money for a wedding gift, for investments.’

‘Sure,’ Lita said, softly. He was meant to give her the gift, but she knew there would be no point saying that.

After dinner, Lira cleared the table and washed everything up, like before. It was less than a year ago that she had done this, but it seemed like another life on another planet. She vowed quietly not to let herself get too distant from her family. They were more important to her than Rupert’s smart friends, and she was a little ashamed that she was starting to feel embarrassed by them.

When Pappy examined the ring, after dinner, she could see he wanted to say something.

‘It’s OK. You can tell me, whatever it is,’ Lira reassured him. ‘The ring, it’s very pretty. But it’s a little small, no?’ ‘It’s a one-carat diamond.’

‘I know. For our friends, that’s a nice ring. But this man is supposed to be rich. When he come to our place for Thanksgiving he ‘didn’t have his own car.’ Lita paused. ‘Pappy, he has a big apartment and real nice suits, and he eats caviar …’

5I

‘That’s nice. But does he pay for them?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘You have a lot of money, Lita,’ Carlos said slowly.

‘But he started going out with me before I had anything.’

‘OK.’ Her father kissed her on the cheek. ‘As long as you’re happy,

baby. You’re a good girl.’

Lita nodded and looked away. She was thoughtful on the ride home.

A week later Rupert was back to his old self. He resigned from Benson

Bailey.

‘They don’t appreciate what I do for them, so why bother?’ he said, rubbing the back of Lita’s neck. ‘I don’t need to waste my time like that. I think I’ll start my own business.’

‘That’s a great idea.’ Lira was instantly interested. ‘What are you thinking off.’

‘I’m going to found my own advertising agency.’

‘Lancaster Advertising?’ Lita smiled.

Rupert looked shocked. ‘Good lord, no. I’d never use the family

name like that. What if something went wrong? I was thinking more of “Modern Commercials”.’

Lita thought the name was hardly inspired, but what did she know?

P, mpert was the commercials whiz.

‘I have a lot of clients that want to jump ship,’ he told her over dinner. P, upert’s apartment boasted an actual working fireplace and as December started he had taken to having glorious, crackling pine-log fires each night. Tonight he was stretched out on the Persian carpet in front of the grate, with Lita snuggling up against him, luxuriating in the warmth and the flickering play of light. Maybe they would make love later. Rupert was an exacting, careful lover, but she thought she enjoyed the sense of closeness with him a lot more than.the actual sex. This was a naughty little secret Lira knew to keep to herself. Was she maybe not normal? Rupert would probably say she was repressed. Her Catholic upbringing, perhaps. Lita told herself it was OK; they were getting married, and after the ceremony she would relax and enjoy it more. Maybe sex wasn’t really all that important, anyway.

‘They’re going to come to Modern and bring their accounts with

them. We’ll make a fortune.’ He kissed the tip of her nose at her look of surprise. ‘You’re included, of course. You don’t think I’d keep it all for

myselP. You’re going to have a stake in the company from day one.’ ‘But you don’t need me for a stake, do you?’ lq, upert chuckled. ‘Of course I don’t need you, darling, but I don’t

want you to lose out on this. Weren’t you always talking about how

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yo wanted to pc I’ll uun .

wedding’s a year away, probably, so this is your chance.’

A whole year? Lira thought with a sharp stab of disappointment, but at least it would give her a chance to make sure P,.upert came out to Queens for that engagement party. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to spoil his mood, now that he was back to his charming, outgoing self.

‘You’ll be modelling, so you’ll be a silent partner, but you can see how the business works. Maybe help me with a few campaigns. Would you like that?’

Lira kissed his chin. ‘It sounds like a lot of fun, darling.’

‘I’ll bring you all the documents to sign tomorrow,’ he promised.

Lira got in from a Chanel shoot to find four slim pieces of paper stacked on the walnut desk in their bedroom. She read them carefully and was immensely relieved. They offered her forty per cent ownership of the company, with very fair provisions for any flotation on Wall Street. They also offered her access to a company bank account as one of the officers and approval on major campaigns.

She signed, cross with herself for the shadows of doubt about Rupert that had started to creep in.

‘That’s terrific, darling,’ he said when she presented him with the papers. ‘I’ve set up some accounts that channel money from our

personal accounts into the company account.’

‘How much are we putting in there?’

‘It’s not a set figure, lather than stake too much cash, I thought it would be sensible if we had a drip-feed system, and take out only what’s needed. If that’s acceptable to you, of course.’

‘Absolutely.’ Lita signed the banking forms he handed to her, feeling warm and reassured. It was good that lupert was so conservative. It probably went with his background. She wouldn’t have liked to blow a lot of money on a start-up, even with all his new clients.

Rupert swung her into his arms and twirled her around. ‘Come on, let’s go to Tiffany’s and do some early Christmas shopping.’

They had a blissful afternoon. Lira was wrapped up against the biting New York cold in her new Balenciaga mink coat; it was soft and comforting, like lupert’s presence. He bought her pearls from Cartier’s, big drop earrings, and sadhertorte with hot chocolate, and took her to 2 for dinner.

Lita was too sleepy to make love that night. She fell asleep, in Rupert’s ams, by the warmth of their dying fire.

It was the last good day they ever had.

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Over the next weeks, Rupert withdrew into his shell. Lita put it down to the pressure of work. He took several late-night calls at his desk that involved a lot of shouting. When she asked about the business, he told her, curtly, that it was just teething problems. When Lita asked what kind, P,.upert told her to just be supportive.

She ignored his attitude. Starting your own business was hard, there

was no denying that. She organized their Christmas, spending a few pleasurable hours at Barney’s shopping for just the right stocking fillers for R.upert, and a few more at Zabar’s with her morn, getting the perfect ingredients for Christmas lunch.

A week before the holidays, Lira walked into Rupert’s apartment to

find him on his way out the door with a suitcase in his hand.

She blinked. ‘What’s all this? You’re not running out on me, are

you?’

‘Don’t be foolish,’ P,,upert said coldly. ‘I’ve been summoned to

England on urgent business. I’ll be back on Monday.’ ‘If it’s urgent, let me come with you.’ He kissed her gently orl the cheek.

‘Darling, it’s a legal bore I have to sort out. Nothing to trouble you

with. Back Monday.’

She didn’t have to wait until Monday. Rupert sent her a telegram on Saturday. It was faster than a letter and less personal than a phone call. Lita read it, read it again, then folded it neatly and put it in her purse.

It was the only thing she took from his apartment. She left the fur and

the pearls on his bed, which she made carefully. Then she took a cab to

a hotel.

The telegram read: ‘Dear Lira. Stop. Things not working out between us. Stop. Best to call off engagement. Stop. You may keep the ring. Stop. Apartment is owned by Benson Bai!ey you must be out by the twentieth. Stop.’