whiteblond hair that hung to her waist and incredible cat eyes set in a
classically beautiful face. She kept fixing her eyes on Emerson as if
to say This is mine and I don't want anybody touching it.
"So," said Emerson, standing up and stretching, "I guess that's it."
Even though he was in his late thirties he was still in great shape.
He wore skintight black leather pants on his long skinny legs, scuffed
boots and a white shirt with some kind of ridiculous frill down the
front. Ridiculous or not, on him it worked.
Lauren, busy making notes, realized he hadn't looked at her once.
And why should he? She was only the hired help.
Selina floated over to Emerson and kissed him full on the mouth, making
sure everyone noticed the little bit of tongue play she indulged in.
"You're such a sport, letting us use your apartment," she sighed.
"Samm's going to be absolutely amazed."
"S'long as we ave fun, darling'," he replied, putting his arm around
her, pressing her in the small of her back and guiding her in for
another kiss.
They kissed as if nobody else was in the room-in fact their smooching
session went on for so long that Lauren thought they were going to
leave the meeting and rush off into the bedroom. Nobody else seemed to
take any notice. She imagined they'd seen it all before.
When the kiss was finished so was Emerson. "Bye, everyone," he called,
striding to the door.
His entourage leaped to their feet and followed him.
"Later, strong man," Selina whispered, blowing him more kisses.
As soon as he was gone Selina stopped being the ethereal little flower
and turned into the tough ball-breaker she really was. "Are we all
organized, Laura? I don't expect any fuck-ups."
"Yes, Senna," Lauren replied sarcastically. "Everything's under
control."
"It better be," Selina said threateningly, as if Lauren was her
personal slave. "And"-she spun around-"if Samm finds out about the
party before it happens I'm holding you personally responsible."
Lauren decided that of all the girls Selina was the worst bitch.
Back at the office Samm gave her a blast. "And exactly where have you
been all morning?"
"I had to go to the dentist," she lied.
"Not good enough," Samm said curtly. "Make dental appointments on your
own time, not when you're supposed to be working."
"I don't have any personal time," Lauren explained. "You've got me
working weekends and I'm here late every night. I had a toothache
-what was I supposed to do?"
"Hmm . . . I suppose you had no choice," Samm said, giving in. She
frowned. "I hate to say it, but this place is chaos without you.
"You managed very well before I came along," Lauren pointed out.
"Yes, well, that was then and this is now. Let's get back to work."
Samm tapped her painted nails on her desktop. The polish looked like
the high-gloss finish on a new car.
Lauren sat down and prepared to take notes.
"First I want you to send a bottle of champagne to Antonio," Samm
said.
"He had a vile time on the Selina shoot. I'm really going to have to
talk to that girl before she trips over her own ego. Oh, and then call
Flash Cosmetics, they need Nature in the studio on the same day she has
that big Vogue shoot. Tell Nature she'll have to start earlier.
Ignore her screaming. After that talk to Swimwear magazine, they need
all the girls on the tenth. I've told them it's impossible to get
anybody out to the Virgin Islands before the twelfth-but they're
insisting. You deal with it, Lauren, you're so good with people."
"Consider it all taken care of," she said, getting up.
As soon as she reached her desk Pia was beside her whispering,
"Everything okay?"
"All systems go.
Pia looked relieved. "You're so good at this!"
Yes, Pia. I should be doing your job and making your salary.
At lunchtime several of the girls stopped by the office with a cake.
"God, I hate birthdays," Samm said, reluctantly blowing out the
Nobody owned up.
"At least she thinks it's over and done with now," Pia murmured.
"Boy, will she be surprised!"
"How are you getting her up to Emerson's apartment?" Lauren asked. It
was the one detail she hadn't been in charge 0œ "Selina's taking her.
She's told Samm that she and Emerson have a surprise, and they want to
tell her personally."
"Did Samm fall for it?"
"Absolutely. She thinks they're planning marriage, and she's all set
to talk them out of it."
Later, Nature managed to corner her at her desk. She was all blond
hair, blue eyes and glowing Acapulco tan. "I can't believe Selina as
bagged Emerson Burn," she complained. "She's not is type, too 7 bloody
skinny. He likes a bird with a bit of meat on er bones-me, fer
instance!"
"Do you know him?"
Nature licked her lips. "No, but I intend to."
Lauren sensed trouble ahead.
As soon as she could she left the office and raced over to Emerson
Burn's apartment to check on all the arrangements. She was wearing a
pleated skirt and a plain blue sweater, her hair pulled back in a thick
braid. There was obviously not going to be time for her to get back to
her apartment and change into something more festive. So what?
Nobody cared how she looked, as long as she stayed in the background
and did her job.
Selina was already there, floating around the apartment issuing
orders.
Emerson's four servants hovered with surly expressions. They did not
appreciate every single one of his girlfriends coming in and trying to
take over.
"Thank God you're here," exclaimed Selina. "Go and talk to the
caterers. Check that they know what they're doing. Oh, and Laura, you
did make sure everyone was told to be here promptly at eight
o'clock?"
"All taken care of. And by the way, my name is Lauren, not Laura."
"Whatever." Selina waved a beautifully manicured hand in the air.
Bitch! Lauren thought as she hurried into the kitchen to confer with
the caterers.
Various members of Emerson's entourage skulked around unhappy because
he'd thrown open his apartment for Samm's surprise party.
After she was done with the caterers she viewed the flower
arrangements, checked out the guest list with a burly guard at the door
and finally found a moment to spend alone.
Locking herself in the guest bathroom she gazed at her reflection in
the mirror. Was this how she planned to spend her life? Arranging
parties for other people to have a good time? She'd wanted to become a
famous New York stage actress. Now she was this unimportant little
gofer doing things for other people. Lauren Roberts-invisible.
Somebody tried the door of the bathroom. She ignored them, they could
wait.
Now there was hammering on the door.
Angrily she flung it open and came face to face with Emerson Burn.
"Who're you?" he demanded.
"Lauren," she replied, curbing a
strong desire to reach out and touch
his shaggy mane of honey-colored curls. "From Samm's Agency. I'm
organizing the party-remember? We did meet."
He shook his golden hair and took her arm. "Follow me, I want you to
ear something."
"Pardon?"
"Don't argue," he said, grabbing her arm and leading her down a plushly
carpeted corridor into the back of the apartment where he'd built a
state-of-the-art recording studio. "Sit down and ave a listen to
this."
Exactly who did he think he was bossing around?
"Mr. Burn," she said, "I have no time to listen. I'm trying to
organize a party for you-I have to see that everything runs the way
it's supposed to."
"This is my bloody apartment. I'm paying for the bleedin' party, so
sit down and shut up.
He sounded like Nature. Maybe the two of them did belong
together-after all, they shared the same accent.
She sat stiffly on a chair while he marched over to a control panel and
pressed a couple of buttons. Suddenly the room was flooded with
sound.
She recognized his voice immediately-that sexy, cocksure rasp.
She'd been thirteen when he'd burst onto the scene and taken America by
storm with his most famous single, "Dog Days and Wild Women."
The song playing was a love song, not the romantic kind-but a driving,
hard song called "Viper Woman."
"Listen to this and tell me what you think," Emerson said, pacing up
and down his studio.
She studied his leather-clad legs. "Does it matter what I think?"
"Yeah, you're the public," he said, speaking quite slowly as if she was
an idiot. "You're the girl in the street. You won't kiss my assyoul
tell me the truth." He turned up the volume, almost blasting her out
of the room.
The 1vrir biniew her ene.
She loves me for my money She loves me for my power She even goddamn
loves me for my big fat car She's a Viper Woman Loves to rock n roll
She's a Viper Woman She only got one goal Oh yeah!
Money money Sex and honey She got her eye on it all Money money Sex and
honey This bitch is pretty damn cool!
The record certainly wasn't vintage Emerson Burn.
He turned the volume down and stared at her. "Well?"
"It's . . . it's okay," she said, standing up and smoothing her
skirt.
"Okay." He repeated "okay" as though it was a dirty word. "What are
you-deaf?" Then he raised his voice. "It's my new single, for
crissake. It's a fuckin' hit!"
Obviously he didn't care to hear the truth. Maybe she should lie and
say it was the best thing she'd ever heard.
Oh, the hell with it, why should she?
"I don't like it," she said. "I don't appreciate you calling women
bitches. If it's a love song, why isn't it more loving?"
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he exploded. "Viper Woman is one
of the best things I've ever recorded."
"Who the hell do you think you are?" she blazed back. "I'm not some
burned-out groupie who's going to tell you it's wonderful if I don't
think so. You asked for my opinion and you got it."
"Get the fuck outta my sight," he snarled. "You don't know shit."
She was furious, but there was nothing she could do. A party was about
to take place and she had to make sure everything ran smoothly.
With as much dignity as she could muster she left the room.
"I knew this was going to be a good day."
Lauren turned around and faced Jimmy Cassady, the photographer who'd
asked her out a few weeks earlier.
"Hi," she said, glad to encounter a friendly face.
"Hi," he replied with a smile.
She groped for conversation. "Do you think Samm was surprised?"
"Surprised?" he laughed. "More like pissed."
"I guess it's not much fun being forty."
"Forty?" He laughed even louder. "You think Samm's forty? The woman
is fifty."
"What?" Lauren was amazed. "She doesn't look it."
"She doesn't even look forty," Jimmy said. "Samm's a phenomenon. Have
you seen pictures of her when she was modeling?"
"No.
"Dynamite!"
Lauren's eyes darted around the crowded party. Most of the guests had
arrived on time and when Samm put in an appearance with Selina on one
side and Emerson on the other they'd all screamed "SURPRISE!" right on
cue. And now everything was going so well she thought she might sneak
out.
"What's your story?" Jimmy asked, lighting a cigarette.
She turned to look at him. He was in his early thirties, short and
wiry with a pointed face and hair that was thinning on top and long in
the back. He wore it in a ponytail. He also wore John Lennon
eyeglasses and tight blue jeans. The jeans immediately reminded her of
Nick.
Sternly she put Nick Angelo out of her head.
"I don't have a story," she said, deciding she could exit through the
kitchen without anyone noticing.
"Everyone has a story," he replied confidently. "And I'm interested in
finding out yours.
She shrugged. "Small-town girl, came to New York, got a job.
That's it."
"There's a lot more to you than that. I could tell the moment I asked
you out."
"Not used to getting turned down, huh?"
He drew on his cigarette and regarded her with a contemplative
expression. "You're not married, are you?" He looked pointedly at her
left hand. bereft of nns.
"No, I'm not married," she said defensively.
"Going steady? I don't notice a guy with you."
"I'm not seeing anyone.
"Then why can't we go out?"
Good question, but she owed him no explanation. "Has it occurred to
you that I might not want to?" she said, hoping to put an end to the
conversation.
He refused to be put off. "Is it just me or does everyone get the big
no?"
"I'm leaving," she said, and then added, "Everything's going nicely,
they don't need me anymore.
"You organized this event?"
"Right." She began slowly edging toward the kitchen.
He followed her. "You did a pretty fine job, but you'd better not
leave.
"Why?"
He gestured over to the far corner. "Because Selina is just about to
kill Nature. Take a look."
Lauren looked. Nature was all over Emerson Burn, who lounged on a
couch, his leather-clad legs stretched out before him. Her shrieking
laugh could be heard all the way across the room.
Selina hovered behind him clad in a floating chiffon dress, her cat
eyes signaling immediate danger.
"It's not my problem," Lauren said.
"How come?" Jimmy asked. "You're known around the office as the
solver of all problems."
"I am?"
He grinned. "Yeah. Have you any idea what they call you behind your
back?"
She wished he'd leave her alone. "I'm sure you can't wait to tell
me.
He seemed amused. "Miss E."
Now she was really irritated. "Miss E.? What's that supposed to
mean?"
He laughed. "Miss Efficiency."
"Oh, thanks a lot,"
she said, not exactly thrilled with the title.
He pressed on. "It's true, isn't it? You do everything for
everybody.
You've made yourself indisensable. How lon have you been there -three
months? The other bookers must love you. I bet even Pia's getting
nervous about her job."
How come he knew so much about her? "What are you talking about?"
He stubbed his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "I'm talking about
you.
You're the ideal personal assistant-and don't think it's escaped Samm's
notice, because nothing escapes Madam."