Wicked Ambition (29 page)

Fenton scowled. ‘If you want to go parading around in full view of everyone then be my guest. Excuse me if I thought we were trying to be discreet.’

‘Discreet? You may as well lock me up in a cellar. And anyway, you try winning your girlfriend back when she’s walked in on you shagging a man old enough to be your father.’

‘Oh, that’s right,’ Fenton croaked, ‘play the age card.’

‘It’s not a card.
It’s the truth
.’

‘For a sweet boy you know how to sting.’

‘I’m not a “sweet boy”, am I? Not any more.’ Before, Scotty’s pet name had been appealing; it had made him feel like an angel. Now it was pervy, like a schoolmaster who wanted to slap him on the ass with a ruler after class. Scott wasn’t a baby, he was twenty-three this summer and Fenton
made him feel like a kid on his grampa’s knee at Christmas. Moreover the name was a fallacy, sniping as he did at Fenton and criticising him and knowing at times that the things he said were evil, all in the hope that Fenton might get sick of it and so do the hard part and call time on their relationship himself.

But Fenton had no intention of doing that. It seemed the more horrid Scotty was, the more he lapped it up, like a kicked puppy panting for treats.

Where had the man gone whom he’d respected so much?

‘I’ve grown out of you,’ Scotty concluded quietly, scuffing the baseline with his foot. ‘It happens. I can apologise but I know you won’t accept it.’

‘Damn right I won’t.’ Fenton’s voice shook. ‘After everything I’ve done for you.’

‘Blackmail’s no reason to stay.’ Scotty met his gaze. ‘There’s only so long we can play with fire. It ends now and with a little damage control maybe that’s it, maybe no one has to know. Going to Kristin on a break-up might help change her mind.’

Fenton was deflated, like a punched balloon. ‘You mean you’re going back to her? You can claim it was a mistake?’

‘Maybe it was.’ He hadn’t meant to blurt it, but now the rest followed. ‘You were my first and you knew that. I held you on a pedestal. Maybe I wasn’t seeing things clearly.’

Fenton laughed meanly, heartbreak sluicing through his words. ‘Don’t try telling me you’re straight. Not after I’ve had you on your knees begging to—’

‘Just because I don’t want to be with you doesn’t mean I’m not gay. You’re not the only man in the world, Fenton.’ He waited. ‘It’s time I found out what that meant.’

Fenton came to the net for one final plea. ‘This isn’t us,’ he offered tearfully, putting his hands to prayer. ‘You know it isn’t. Let’s start again.’ When Scotty refused to meet his eye, he implored him: ‘You’re all I have. You’re all that makes me happy.’

Scotty went for the smash. ‘That’s the problem.’ His words were quiet, and all the more demolishing for that. ‘I can’t be your everything any more.’

He was along the tramlines when Fenton’s voice chased him from behind, a gathered, decisive tone that he only ever used professionally. Even when Scotty had first come under his manager’s wing he’d still received a special voice, a kindly, avuncular manner, but not any longer. That road was closed and there was no way back.

‘If you think you’ve still got a place in Fraternity, you’re sorely mistaken.’

Scotty stopped, swallowing hard. ‘Fraternity’s nothing without me.’

‘Do you think I care about that?’ The King of the Chart’s words were as glacial as his heart. ‘I’ve made enough off you boys to see me through ten lifetimes. It’s over for you, Scotty. Walk away now and, trust me, you’re as good as dead.’

Kristin was in her manager’s office, consulting stills from her latest video. New single ‘Open Arms’ was a departure from her previous form and she was satisfied with the result, a moody rock vibe that totally gave Ramona the bird.

When she left she was surprised to find Joey Lombardi waiting for her outside, sitting on a low wall with a beanie pulled over his ears. His mop of hair was tickling the neck
of his T-shirt and there was a tear in his jeans. She hadn’t seen him since bailing on him in Vegas and she felt a stab of conscience: she’d totally ditched him that night.

‘Hey,’ he said, with an expectant smile. He held out a creased paper bag of cola gums, her favourite candy, tied with a ribbon. ‘Bought you something.’

Touched, Kristin smiled. ‘Thanks.’ She gave him a hug. He smelled coconutty, like sun cream. ‘What’re you doing here? If I’d known…I’ve got to head over to Mom’s.’

‘Bunny’s Mini Miss final, right?’

She was impressed he’d remembered. ‘Yeah.’ She checked the time. ‘The results should be coming in right about now. For Bunny’s sake, I hope she gets it, or Ramona’ll be more of a witch than usual, and that’s saying something.’

‘This won’t take a minute. Can I ride with you?’

Kristin had splurged on a new Audi. It was nothing compared with Jax’s sick sports car, a fact her boyfriend liked to remind her of, so it was nice to be in appreciative company.

‘She’s beautiful,’ said Joey, watching her from the passenger seat.

‘Thanks.’ She indicated and pulled out on to Sunset. ‘What’s up?’

Joey reached to scratch the back of his head and she caught a flash of dark hair under his arm. ‘It’s Scotty. I know he’s the last person you want to think about right now, but the guys and me…we’re concerned. Have you seen him lately?’

Kristin skipped a red light, her expression closed. ‘Why would I?’

‘He looks bad. He’s lost weight and he’s drinking more
than ever. It’s like he’s shut off from us. Some of us think there might be something harder involved.’

Like what, his manager’s dick?

‘The fact is,’ Joey continued, ‘you’ve known him for, like, ever. You know him better than anyone—’

‘I thought I did.’

‘No one gets what happened between you two. That’s the way it should be, it’s nobody else’s business, but maybe this break-up’s hit him harder than we thought. Kristin, if he doesn’t get himself together soon then we’re worried for the future of the band.’

‘What does Fenton say?’ The name sat on her tongue, slimy as a toad.

Joey shook his head. ‘That’s the other thing. Fenton’s become distant, too. He works from home, like, every week, and we have to book appointments to see him now. We used to be able to just drop round, you know, if we needed something.’

‘Maybe he has a house guest,’ said Kristin tightly.

‘Could be. Whatever it is, he’s not proving much help on the Scotty problem.’

She accelerated, overtaking a Jeep. ‘I expect he knows more than you think.’

Joey gave her a funny look. ‘How do you mean?’

Hastily she backtracked. ‘You know, just being your manager and all…’

How she wanted to splurge it. But she had to preserve those tiny hearts, hearts like Bunny’s that would get blown to smithereens—and, now her anger had subsided, to preserve Scotty himself, because while he had betrayed her in a
disastrous way it was no crime to be gay, and she couldn’t be sure she’d have told if he’d been sleeping with another girl.

Already she was regretting having confided in Jax. She felt confident he would keep it to himself but it was impossible to know for definite.

‘I said to the boys I’d see if you might talk to him?’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘Really?’ Joey cleared his throat. ‘I mean, I know how much you felt for him, how close you guys were. If it’s too difficult, we’d understand…’

‘It’s fine.’

There was a pause before Joey added, ‘It’s not like you want to get back with him, though, right? It’s totally over…?’

‘God, no! I mean, yes, it’s totally over.’

‘OK.’ He blushed. ‘Scotty’s my friend, but, well, you are, too.’

‘Believe me, I’m
way
happier with Jax.’

Joey’s jaw tensed. ‘Right.’

She dropped him a block from home, and minutes later was winding up the regal drive of The White House.

‘Bunny?’ she called upon entering. An almighty thump came from above, pursued by a stampede of footsteps as someone descended the stairs. Her sister flew down so heatedly that Kristin had to back up against the wall to avoid being bulldozed.

‘You are my daughter and you will get back here immediately!’
sounded Ramona’s battle cry, as her mother’s stick-thin legs came stabbing down the steps after her.

‘I can’t do this any more!’

‘Bunny—’ Kristin witnessed a flash of white-blonde wig as her sister shot out of the front door and slammed it behind
her. Ramona collided with her at the bottom of the stairs, and by the time they hit the street Bunny had disappeared.

She rounded on a breathless Ramona. ‘What’s going on? What happened?’

A hysterical laugh flew back at her. ‘Isn’t
that
the question?’ Ramona crabbed. ‘Your clever sister’s only just ruined the most important afternoon of her life!’

‘What?’ Kristin struggled to catch up. ‘She didn’t win the Mini Miss?’

‘Of course she didn’t win!’ A fleck of spittle shot from Ramona’s mouth. ‘Tracy-Ann Hamilton won.’ The child’s name alone was enough to make her tremble.

‘My God, poor Bunny.’

‘Poor Bunny, my ass!’ her mother shrieked. ‘She didn’t even do her best!’

‘What?’

‘She sabotaged it on purpose.’

‘How can you say that?’ Kristin leapt to her sister’s defence. ‘Of course she tried her best, I know she did.’

‘Then you know nothing of Bunny’s life since you walked out. If that silly girl thought daydreaming over Scotty Valentine was going to win her the title instead of applying herself to our schedule then she’s just had a short sharp shock of reality.’

‘How can you be so cruel?’ Kristin asked in wonder.

‘Me?’
Ramona rampaged. ‘Who knows, perhaps if
you
hadn’t thrown that perfectly eligible boy to the gutter along with everything else that’s been given to you, Bunny mightn’t have suffered these withdrawal symptoms!’

Kristin was incredulous. ‘So now it’s my fault?’

‘Let’s just say you wouldn’t win role model of the century.’

‘And you would? Jeez, Mom, don’t you think Bunny might be upset? Don’t you think she’s disappointed? That maybe she needs a parent right now, not a
coach
or whatever the hell it is you call yourself? That maybe you should go after her?’

‘She needs to cool off.’

‘No, she doesn’t, she needs a hug. She’s fourteen.’

Ramona’s face was bitter lemon. ‘Talk to me about parenting skills when you’re a mother yourself—if ever, at this rate.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Face it: Jax Jackson is hardly husband material.’

Kristin hooted with laughter. ‘That’s too good,’ she retaliated. ‘Why don’t
you
talk to
me
about husbands when you can hold on to one yourself? No wonder Dad walked out if he had to deal with this every day of his life—’

She was cut off by a stinging slap. Stunned, she raised a hand to her cheek.

Ramona was quivering. She looked as shocked as Kristin felt. Turning on a sharp heel, she strode inside and closed the door with such force that a set of Japanese wind chimes suspended in the porch crashed to the ground in a discordant jangle.

Kristin put a hand to her face, breathing heavily. Her heart was in her throat and for the first time she could taste her anger, actually
taste
it, tangy like metal. She searched both ways down the avenue, hoping for a glimpse of Bunny and finding none.

She had to locate her sister and get her out of here.
Ramona’s ambition had gone beyond the point of rational return—and the trouble with climbing for the stars was that if you didn’t reach them, there was a hell of a long way to fall.

37

R
obin was getting by on three hours’ sleep a night. The tour was consuming all her energy and if she wasn’t performing she was rehearsing, training, on the bus or the plane between gigs, or in talks with Barney and the team about the next location.

They hit Seattle on Friday. It amazed her how the
Beginnings
set travelled seamlessly between venues, magnificent in its entirety one night then the following moved and erected identically in a completely new place, so that revisiting it felt like a continuous bout of déjà vu. Each time the crowd seemed more electric than the last, and the reviews she’d had were phenomenal: with every set she played, America fell a little bit more in love with Robin Ryder. They embraced her Britishness, her candid interviews and her inimitable flair. They loved her sense of humour. They respected her style. They gave credit for her connection to Puff City and her work on Slink Bullion’s charity single, which thanks to a fortuitously coordinated
series of events—the City’s re-emergence, the Olympic fire and her own rise to Stateside stardom—had hit the Billboard top spot in its opening week.

Puff City were in town tonight and had agreed to guest on her closing track. The audience wouldn’t know what hit them. She owed Slink big time for the favour.

When Robin opened her hotel-room door she was alarmed to discover a male figure lounging on the bed, reclining against the propped-up pillows and watching TV. Rufio was drinking from a Coke can pilfered from the mini bar and had his hand buried in a tube of Pringles. Chocolate wrappers scattered the sheets.

‘Hey.’

‘Shit!’ She grinned, dropping her bag. ‘What’re you doing here?’

In spite of the fact she hadn’t heard from him since that disappointing call in San Fran, she felt relieved Rufio was here. Due to her constantly moving location the threatening messages had ceased, but even so she remained anxious about being alone.

Rufio flipped a crisp into the air and caught it in his mouth. ‘Celebrating,’ he said, pulling her on to the bed. ‘Thought I’d surprise you.’

She kissed him. ‘Celebrating what?’

‘Got cleared, didn’t I? Shit-hot lawyer came on board and all I had to do was turn up in a suit and look sorry.’ He stuck out his bottom lip. ‘They fell for it.’

‘Are you sorry?’ Cynical, she raised an eyebrow.

‘Only that I didn’t get here sooner.’

Rufio held out his arms and she settled into them. It was a comfort. He ran his hands over her hips and dragged her
down on top of him. ‘Nice place you got here,’ he teased, jabbing his hard-on into her. ‘Want to shag?’