Star Attraction (15 page)

“Nevertheless, I shall expect her
there at eight.
 
Mr. Clarke is
leaving first thing in the morning for London, and he wants the business with
her and Brad settled.”

Zaira sat in silence for several
more minutes, and then she stood up to confront him.
 

“This is like something out of one
of Brad’s films!
 
You disappear, we
all think you’re dead, and then you turn up, safe and sound, under a new name,
working for one of the richest and post powerful corporations in America.”

“You know what I’m like, Zaira,
ambitious, and the ad agency just seemed like small time to me after a
while." Jonathan shrugged nonchalantly.

“Oh really,” Zaira sneered, “and
did the thousands you stole from the staff, the clients, from me, did that seem
like small time to you as well?”

Jonathan’s eyes glittered
dangerously, as he demanded, “And where do you fit in here?
 
You can’t complain. You’ve obviously
done well for yourself.”

Zaira rounded on him. “Ever since
you left, I've had the police going through my life with a fine-toothed com.
I've struggled night and day to pay back the money you stole. If I’ve survived,
it’s been by sheer hard work and determination to right all the wrongs that you
committed.
 
I never knew such
poverty existed until you abandoned me. If it weren’t for the university, I
wouldn’t have known where my next meal was coming from!”

Jonathan shook his head and said,
“It couldn’t be helped.
 
I’d had
enough.”

“And I’ve had enough of your deceit
and selfishness!” Zaira raged.
 
“What’s to stop me from telling Brad exactly who you are?”

Zaira knew she was in trouble when
he felt the lapels of her dressing gown grabbed, and she her feet barely
touched the floor as he pulled her to him.

“If you do, I shall make sure you
go to prison as well,” Jonathan threatened.
 
“I’m making good money, and have plenty of power, so there’s
no need for them to know about my past impetuousness, is there?
 
If you say one word, Zaira, so help me
you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

Zaira struggled to get free of
him, repelled by the closeness of the man she thought she had once loved, and
it was with great relief that she heard Brad’s key turn in the lock.
 

She heard his footsteps pause and
his voice grate out, “What the hell is going on here!” as Jonathan released her
and she pulled her dressing gown more closely around her trembling form before
facing him.

She could feel Brad’s eyes upon
her, accusing, and then he blinked and recognized the man standing behind her.

“Wyman, what are you doing here in
New York?” Brad asked coldly, still eying the two of them for the least sign of
guilt.

“Why, here on business with your
father, old chap, about this new project.
 
He wants to meet with you and the author tonight at eight.
 
It’s all written down here, and there
are also some papers for you to sign,” Jonathan said smoothly.
 
“And now if you and the charming
er-lady, will excuse me, I’ll be off for my next meeting.”

Jonathan hastily picked up his
briefcase, and vanished out the door in a second.

Zaira was already backing into her
room before Brad grabbed her by the shoulders and bit out, “Well, I’m sorry I
didn’t satisfy you thoroughly enough this morning, but did you really have to
resort to the first creep who came knocking on the door for a bit of sex?”

Zaira couldn’t believe her ears,
and all the pent up fury over the abuse she had taken for the past half hour
caused her to lash out.
 
She
slapped his angry face so hard she could see the imprint of her hand on his cheek,
and she fought like a wild thing as his strong hands tried to contain her.

“You bastard,” she hissed, “get
your hands off me!”

She clawed and even bit him while
she screamed every abusive word she could think of, until finally he slapped
her, and she crumpled to the floor like an old rag doll.

When he came to a few minutes
later, Zaira was cradled in his arms on the sofa, and he was wiping her face
with a cold cloth.
 
She opened her
eyes, and saw his face very near hers, his eyes pained, his cheeks damp.

“God, Zaira, I wished I could have
cut my tongue out before I said such a thing.
 
Please forgive me,” Brad whispered.
 

She eased herself off his lap and
tried to stand, but she swayed so much that he reached out a hand to support
her, which she knocked away.

“No, just don’t touch me, and
don’t say anything.
 
I’ve had a
couple of nasty shocks this morning, and you were the last straw.
 
Leave me alone.”

“Not until you tell me what the
hell has been going on here this morning!” Brad insisted.

“In a nutshell then, your father
called me a whore, and your accountant treated me like one."

"My
God, did he—"

"I've endured worse. But
that's not the whole of it."

"It's
bad enough, and I've made it worse—"

"No, your father has.
 
Their whole purpose in coming here was
to talk you out of “The Dark Lady” project.
 
When I defended you to those swine, then your father
determined that they would buy the rights from Zoe Dominick and cut us out of
the project altogether,” Zaira told him in a near-whisper.

“They can’t, Zoe wouldn’t let
them! My God, no wonder you’re upset,” Brad exploded.

“You father is convinced that
everyone has a price, and that Zoe is no different, hence the dinner tonight,”
Zaira said quietly.

“Well, I hope we shall all prove
them wrong, then.”

“Maybe he is right.
 
Maybe we do have a price, but often we
pay out more than we ever receive,” Zaira murmured, more to herself than
Brad.
 

Zaira shuddered at the thought of
Jonathan back in her life again, and the harm he could do to herself, and even
Brad, in his position of trust as the accountant at Clarke Studios.

“Look, I’m sorry about what I
said, and about hitting you, Zaira. You were hysterical after the way Wamn
manhandled you, I can see that. When I get my hands on hi—"

"No!
 
Don't! Just leave it."

"But Zaira…."

I said leave it!"

"Come sit down and we can
talk it through,” Brad apologised, trying to hug her close.

She pushed out of his embrace,
even though it was the only place in the world she wanted to be at that moment.
The only place she could deluded herself into feeling safe, at least for a
little while…. But no.
 
There was
nothing but a web of lies, with a fat spider within weaving them into only it
knew what knots.
  
“There’s
nothing to say Brad.
 
I think it’s
all been said now.
 
Besdies, I’m
late enough as it is ,” Zaira said. She went into her room and locked the
door.
 

She pulled on her suit hastily,
still trembling. She had just enough time to put up her hair before she grab
her purse and briefcase and ran out of the apartment, slamming the door loudly
behind her.

Zaira tried to pull herself
together after all the nasty shocks of the morning, but the sense of threat
grew stronger rather than weaker the more she thought about her whole
situation.
 
Her husband Jonathan
was capable of anything, she knew that now.
 
Did she tell the police, and go to prison, or keep silent
and run the risk of him harming her or Brad in some way?
 

But even if Jonathan did go to
prison, and she were able to convince the court of her innocence, he would come
to find her sooner or later, of that she was sure. And after all, he was still
legally married to her.
 
Zaira
pulled her thoughts together to focus on the implications of this issue.
 
Maybe she could exact a price from him
for her silence, her freedom.
 
She
could make sure he didn’t contest the divorce on the grounds of desertion that
she would be entitled to soon.

But soon wasn't soon enough for
her.
 
And what would Brad think of
her if he found out she had kept silent about them harboring a thief in their
midst?
 
But if she did tell the
authorities he was back, and went to prison because Jonathan would surely lie
to try to implicate her in his fraud, she would never see Brad again.

How did she feel about losing
Brad?
 
She recalled the ugly scene earlier
that morning with a shudder, but understood his jealousy and rage.
 
His feelings about her were becoming
all too clear, though it wasn't flattering to either of them that he wanted her
so passionately, even when he was in love with the gorgeous blonde in the
photo.

But maybe it wasn't so much
jealousy over her, but a level of male competition that caused Brad to behave
so irrationally.
 
She could sense
an obvious dislike of Jonathan, and his being his father's right hand man after
what had to be only a short
 
time
must have grated on Brad's nerves.
 

Whatever way she looked at it, it
was her worst nightmare. Just when she had finally started to get back
 
up on her own two feet, and had got the
chance of a lifetime working with Brad Clarke on some many different levels,
least of all the personal, her estranged husband had once again done something
to rip the rug out from under her.

She wished she could stop shaking;
it wasn't like her to be so upset, she had had hard times before. Now the
magnitude of all she would lose terrified her. The fame and fortune meant
nothing. No, it was the fact that a future with Brad seemed now so utterly
beyond reach.
 
She could have won
his heart, made him sure of their relationship, made him see that all they
shared was a solid foundation to build a future upon, whatever he thought his
feelings were for the lovely woman he had left behind on the West Coast.
 
But now the happiness she had shared
with Brad for a few short, blissful hours, had been snatched away cruelly, leaving
nothing but a cold emptiness it its wake.

Zaira sighed heavily. She knew she
had to say something soon, but so much was riding on her getting through this
week in one piece. She would try to disguise her unease, and find the right
time to tell Brad the whole truth.
 
But not just yet.
 
She
couldn’t face his anger and contempt now.

Zaira tried to make a convincing
appearance as Zoe Dominick in the rehearsals that day, but she was a dismal
failure.
 
She just went through the
motions, and was relieved when they decided by five o’clock that they had all
had enough.
 

Brad was his usual charming self
with her, although she sensed a certain amount of concern.
 
She had decided to wear dark glasses to
avoid his penetrating gaze; she knew only too well that she was not looking her
best, and there was a haunted look in her eyes that she knew had not been there
when she and Brad had been together only yesterday.
 

She had been so happy then, had
been so full of the joy of living ever since Brad had come into her life.
 
Now Zaira realized it would all be lost
soon, and with it perhaps everything she had worked so hard to build for
herself out of the ruins of her old life.

“Zoe, what is it? You look pretty
down today,” Brad remarked her, when all the others had gone and they were
finally on their own.

“Nothing, darling,” she said, with
a particularly affected Southern drawl.
  
“Far too much partying all weekend, of course. Just a
teensy bit hung over you know. But then with my glamorous lifestyle, life is
one big party.”

Zaira flashed him her most
flirtatious smile, and stroked his shoulder in a fairly provocative
fashion.
 
She was sure it would get
rid of him, but instead he moved closer and said angrily, “Come off it, this southern
belle routine won’t wash with me.
 
I
don’t know why you’ve suddenly decided to play Scarlett O’Hara instead of
Ophelia, but you're not really like this at all.
 
So stop the games, and get serious.
 
We have to be perfect on Saturday to
make all this hard work pay off. So for everyone’s sake if not your own, stop
hurting yourself.”

“What makes you think I’m doing
that?” Zaira responded with an arrogant toss of the head.