Free A Kept Woman by Louise Bagshawe Page B

Tell me who I should be talking to?’
    ‘Let me see.., somebody skilled, not connected with Ernie …’
    And not too expensive, Michael felt like saying, but his pride wouldn’t let him.
    ‘… Jane Grenouille, she’s your woman. Grenouille and Bifte, they have an office on Fifty-fourth. I recommend her,’ Fineman said warmly. He gave Cicero the phone number. ‘I can fax the contract over to her right now, if you like. It’s standard, shouldn’t take too much of her time. Oh, and Michael - Ernie Foxton already signed
     
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    it from his end, so if you countersign within twenty-four hours it’s nice and binding.’
    ‘What if I delay beyond that time?’
    ‘Then you need to get him to sign another copy. I guess ‘they put a time limit on it in case another deal gets worked out in the meantime and you force them into bed with you.’
    ‘Thank you,’ Michael said quietly.
    It never occurred to him to ask how Fineman knew Ernie had signed the contract.
    He rang Jane, who sounded young and vivacious and a little ditsy, but seemed to have an excellent grasp on the legalities. She suggested a few changes and told him he should jump on it.
    ‘We’ll get a few things policed up, though.’
    ‘Are they vital?’
    Michael suddenly had an image of Diana Foxton going home and sobbing on her husband’s shoulders. If he signed today, the deal was valid, and Ernie couldn’t rip it up.
    ‘No. You’d lose the twenty-four-hour window by the time we got the renegotiation back.’
    ‘I’ll get back to you in a little while,’ Michael said. He hung up and looked around his tiny office, breathing in the wafts of moussaka and lamb with minted yoghurt from the taverna. His print shook slightly on the walls as the booming bass of the record store leaked up through his basement.
    He was hesitating. And why? Because he didn’t like Ernie and Diana.
    But Ernie Foxton had promised him a partnership, not a salary. They had offered up financials, editorial rights, distribution, new offices and a sign-on bonus of a hundred thousand dollars.
    If he signed he would have a real company. If he signed, he would have a real office. If he signed, he could
     
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    afford to take Diana Foxton out to a fancy restaurant, and get a suit that people would not sneer at.
    Michael visualised Diana’s look of arrogant pity. He took the contract and put it in his briefcase.
    There was a timid knock on his door. Michael looked
    up to see Susan Katz smiling at him breathlessly. ‘So what do you think?’ she asked. Michael grinned.
    ‘I think we’re in business,’ he said.
     
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Chapter 8
    In the half light of the early morning, Ernie Foxton woke and looked at his wife. The first rays of dawn had slunk across Manhattan, creeping up from the hustle of the fishing nets and the fresh-produce markets, covering Wall Street’s bustling bankers all striving to be at their desks before the other guy, until they were washing the sleek high-rises of the skyscrapers and the elegant brownstones round the Park. From his bedroom window, all he could see was ky and greenery. Central Park was attractive, if you liked nature, which Ernie didn’t. And he had the terrace garden his talented bride had thrown together.
    Diana lay there, sprawled over his bed - he still didn’t think of it as their bed. Her long, dyed-blond hair was gorgeously dishevelled on the satin pillowcases she’d ordered so as not to tangle it. One hand was flung sleepily over the cream silk sheets, manicured to perfection with a simple French polish. Of course, Diana would never go for anything .tarty like scarlet red talons, the type that Mira liked to wear, that she wanted to rake across his back. He longed to let her do it, but it would leave a mark. Mira said he deserved it, that Ernie was a naughty little boy who ought to be’ punished. He felt a twitch in his cock just thinking about her.
    Ernie looked over Diana’s body: slender, but still curvy. He wasn’t sure he