Read Winner Takes It All Online
Authors: Karen Mason
Tags: #romance, #england, #big business, #revenge, #secrets, #adultery, #saga, #irish, #family feud, #summerset
She picked up his fake CV
and scanned it.
‘
You’ve a very
impressive history,’ she said. ‘What made you go into this sort of
thing?’
It was time for Tom to
start pretending; he just hoped he could remember all of Jackson’s
prompts and reminders and carry off this act.
‘
Well I would
have liked to have remained at university and do an MA in
Anthropology, but I couldn’t afford it. I’m not quite sure what you
know about me, but I’ve never been rich.’
‘
I don’t
really know much about your side of the family,’ Tara said. ‘Except
the feud of course.’
‘
Oh yes, the
feud. Well I’ve never been involved in that. My mother is Sorcha
Sheridan’s eldest daughter. My grandmother sent her to finishing
school to make her into a lady and find a rich husband, but my
mother hated it and she left the school and came to London to study
art. The final straw was when she met my father, Declan O’Keefe.
Not only was he Irish and a Catholic, he also spoke out against
British involvement in Northern Ireland. So Sorcha disowned my
mother. Declan ran off before I was born and mum’s brought me up on
her own. She’s done the odd bit of teaching and sold a few
paintings but we’ve never been rich. I had no choice but to leave
university after doing my degree and I started work at the Museum
of the City of London. I worked my way up to manager. Then one of
the bosses there mentioned he knew of someone who worked at Troyton
House and they were looking for an estate manager. So I applied and
I got it. I love it there, but when I found out about this job,
well I had to apply.’
‘
So has your
mother told you much of the history of this place?’ Tara
asked.
‘
A little.
This used to belong to my grandmother’s family but your grandmother
bought it back in the 1970s. Is that right?’
‘
Yes. A little
like your mother, my great great great grandfather was disowned
because he fell in love with a Catholic. They were banished from
Donegal and had to go by her name - O’Connell. When my grandmother
discovered that her great grandfather had actually been the true
heir to Sheridans, she decided to buy it back off Briggy Sheridan,
her cousin. When gran bought it, she gave it to my uncle Christian
to run and as soon as I was old enough I took over the running of
this estate.’
‘
So do you
have anything to do with the rest of the Sheridans?’ he
asked.
‘
No. I know
very little of them. I know there were three sisters, the oldest
one went to Texas or something. Briggy didn’t have any children,
and Sorcha had three daughters. But I know very little else. I’ll
be honest with you Tom, I think all the feuding is stupid but it’s
become a family tradition on both sides.’
‘
Will that go
against me?’ he asked.
‘
I don’t
know,’ she pondered. ‘I am getting pretty desperate to fill the
role but I’m not sure what to do given who you are.’
‘
But that’s
not my fault Tara,’ he pleaded, frightened he was going to blow
this. He could just imagine handing back the flat, the clothes and
the car. No doubt Sadie would lose his phone number the minute she
discovered he’d returned to being a broke landlord. ‘I’m as hated
by that side of the family as you are.’
‘
I suppose so.
Do you really think you’d like to do the job? There are a lot of
changes going on. I’ve been given a grant by Trinity College to
develop an educational centre here for British students who are
doing Irish history as part of their degree. I’ve also just agreed
a three-year deal with London Films to make a new series of Agatha
Christie mysteries. Summerset is going to become a film set and I
really need my estate manager to deal with all that. Do you think
you could?’
For a moment Tom forgot
that he would probably need never worry about money again, that
soon he would be so rich and powerful, film companies would be
queuing up to make his works. All he could do was become excited at
the thought of working alongside film-makers, mixing with the sort
of people he aspired to be like.
‘
I’d love to,’
he said rather too eagerly. ‘And I know my mother would be so
pleased if I came to work here. It breaks her heart to be estranged
from her family and she often talks about coming to Claremont Hall
when she was a child.’
‘
It must be
hard for her. Those Sheridans are hard, unforgiving people and when
I hear of the things they did, it makes me go cold to think I’m
related to them.’
‘
But please,
Tara, don’t include me in that. I’ve never met any of
them.’
She sighed and sat back,
lacing her fingers across her flat stomach. She had a model build
and Tom found himself intrigued by her. Under the mad hair and
bushy eyebrows, she was actually very pretty, with doe-like brown
eyes, a small, upturned nose and a large, generous mouth. She’d
been born into a life of privilege with good looks and a fantastic
figure and yet she seemed to want to hide away; dressing like a
child and not doing anything to enhance her appearance. Most girls
in her position would have jumped at becoming models and yet Tara
seemed apologetic for even existing.
‘
Okay,’ she
finally said with a nod. ‘I was supposed to check with my cousin
but what the hell, I’ll give you a three month trial. You do
understand that you’ll be expected to move into the village don’t
you?’
Tom’s heart sank. No one
had mentioned him swapping his luxury flat overlooking Harrods for
a place in this dull village.
‘
I can
commute,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t take long. I’m staying with a friend
in Knightsbridge.’
‘
But I’ve
secured a flat in the village for the estate manager,’ she frowned,
the concern on her little face tearing at his heart and making him
feel guilty for ever questioning her. ‘The job does require you to
work strange hours and I would like you to be nearby.’
‘
I guess so,’
he replied. ‘I suppose it’s not that far from London.’
‘
Exactly, and
you’ll soon get to know people around here. My house is only a few
minutes away from yours and I hope we can become
friends.’
This invitation warmed
him. He realised it wouldn’t take much to win Tara’s confidence and
before he knew it, he’d be infiltrating the family. Maybe Jackson’s
scheming wasn’t so crazy after all.
‘
Okay, I
accept,’ he smiled. ‘Thank you Tara.’
‘
No, thank
you
cousin Tom,’ she giggled. ‘Welcome to the
family.’
Tom drove back to London
with the radio playing loudly, singing along at the top of his
voice. For the first time in his life he had finally achieved
something. He’d been given a task to do and he’d fulfilled it. A
part of him wished he hadn’t liked Tara. Although it would make
getting to know her easier, ultimately it would make stabbing her
in the back all the more difficult. She reminded him a lot of
himself before Jackson took him under his wing. There was something
of the buffoon in Tara and Tom could identify with it. But he knew
if he was going to succeed and secure a lifetime of luxury for
himself he’d have to stop thinking this way. She was the enemy and
that was all there was to it.
Stuck in traffic just
outside of Putney, he couldn’t resist calling Jackson on the hands
free. It was lunchtime over in New York and he just hoped his
cousin wasn’t preoccupied.
‘
How did you
get on old chap?’ were Jackson’s first words to him.
‘
Done and
dusted,’ Tom beamed. ‘She was putty in my hands. I start next
Monday.’
‘
Fantastic.
Well I hope you’re going to go out and celebrate by getting
seriously wasted.’
‘
Oh I think I
might just do that. Thanks for all your help Jackson.’
‘
It’s my
pleasure. I knew you wouldn’t let me down Tom.’
Arriving back in
Knightsbridge, Tom parked the car and skipped up the steps to the
mansion block in which he was living, pausing as he entered the
door, just to reassure himself he wasn’t dreaming. Overnight he’d
gone from being a shambling mess to living in a wonderfully posh
flat, driving a fantastic car and had just secured a position as an
estate manager. It was like a fairy tale.
Letting himself into the
flat, he was a little alarmed to discover the front door wasn’t
locked. Tom was positive he’d bolted it up when he’d left earlier
and a cold shiver ran down his spine – convinced there were
burglars. Just as he reached for a heavy vase to hit someone on the
head with, the bedroom door opened and Sadie stepped out, wearing
nothing but the briefest black knickers, her breasts squeezed into
a tight-fitting black bra. She looked at him with that come hither
expression and for a moment an image of the innocent and childlike
Tara flashed into his mind. Blinking it away, he concentrated on
the sight before him and knew he was always going to attract
bitches like Sadie – it was what he deserved.
She walked slowly over to
him, pulling his tie and leading him like a dog into the bedroom. A
part of him, the tiny part that was his conscience couldn’t help
but feel he was being led astray in more ways than one.
Seven
Alex felt awfully
decadent. Lying on a secluded beach in Ibiza, sipping cocktails and
getting a tan – all on her father’s money! She and Mel weren’t
meeting with Fernando Alonso, the man in charge of the Felicidades
Complex until later that day, so they decided to make the most of
the early summer sun by soaking up the rays beside the pool of the
villa Alex had rented just outside Ibiza Town. She and Tim had had
one beach holiday during their time together and that was to the
Maldives and the first day she’d stepped out in her bikini, he’d
tutted and said it was too provocative so she’d swapped it for an
all in one. Well Tim wasn’t with her now and she was going to do as
she pleased. She wore a red two piece that was hardly revealing,
but she still felt a little paranoid, wondering if she was showing
too much flesh, or looked fat. Mel told her to stop being stupid,
she was gorgeous and should enjoy her curves. Alex wasn’t
convinced.
It was okay for Mel, with
her long, thin, muscular body, she looked like a beautiful teenage
boy. She’d always looked androgynous and Alex always wondered about
the sexuality of the many men who’d flocked around her friend back
at university. Apart from her pretty face, there was nothing
feminine about her at all.
Feeling she should do
some work, Alex picked up her PDA and logged onto her emails. She
saw she had two new ones; one from her father and the other from
Jack. She opened Jack’s first, her tummy giving a little flip when
she thought of those brooding blue eyes and that muscular
body;
Alex
Surveyor
estimates value to be £180,000. Can you come to Liverpool when you
come home and we can discuss?
Jack
Alex emailed him back to
say she’d come up to Liverpool as soon as she and Mel got back from
Ibiza. She then emailed Naseem to ask her to book tickets to Lime
Street for Saturday morning. She then opened her father’s email, it
read;
Darling, you
may get a message from Nicola Adams, the new PR girl. A Sheridans
pub in Leicester has been accused of selling drink to under age
kids. An angry mother is going to the papers and TV about it and
Nicola may want some PR advice from you. Hope the trip to Ibiza is
profitable. Love Daddy x
Alex was a little shocked
at this. Sheridans pubs had been the first to adopt the ID card
scheme and their staff were trained in how to deal with underage
drinkers. With so much emphasis in the news on teenage drinkers,
this sort of publicity could be devastating to the company. Alex
felt sorry for Nicola. She had only been in post as head of PR for
a couple of weeks and this was certainly a baptism of
fire.
Her mobile started to
ring and she picked it up, her heart sinking a little when she saw
it was Tim. Even though he was hundreds of miles away back in
England, it suddenly felt as though he was here with her, watching
and judging her laying here drinking alcohol in the middle of the
day and flaunting her body.
‘
Hi darling,’
she smiled through gritted teeth.
‘
How’s
Ibiza?’
‘
Fine…quiet.
I’ve just been catching up on work.’
‘
And her tan!’
Mel shouted.
‘
I’ll pretend
I didn’t hear that,’ Tim said with a hint of disapproval in his
voice. ‘Anyway, I just thought I’d phone and tell you my fantastic
news.’
‘
What’s
that?’
‘
We’ve been
given the EU grant to do the Dickens study.’
Alex racked her brain,
trying to remember him mentioning Charles Dickens. Tim spoke so
much garbage it was difficult to recall exactly what he’d been
saying.
‘
What Dickens
study is that?’ she asked.
‘
Don’t you
remember anything? We’ve been given a grant to study the influence
Charles Dickens has had on modern television. How fantastic is
that?’
‘
Wonderful.’
‘
And I’m going
to be lead researcher. Alex I’m so excited.’