Page 94 of Guilty Pleasures

‘You misunderstand,’ she smiled. ‘I want a magazine. In my name. I want it to be called Grand and I want it to be run from a satellite company, half of which would be owned by Girard-Lambert itself; the other 50 per cent shareholding would belong to me.’

Pierre took a sharp breath.

‘That’s a big ask.’

‘It’s a big get,’ she replied coolly.

Pierre Desseau looked at the gorgeous woman in front of him with respect. He was glad he’d waited for Cassandra Grand now.

‘Let me think about it,’ he said finally.

Cassandra stood up and flipped her folder shut.

‘You have seven days and the clock’s ticking now.’

30

On the hottest day of the year, Dugdale Court, a two-thousand-acre estate in the heart of Wiltshire, looked stunning. As the location of a two-day music festival it was nothing like Emma had imagined; there were no muddy fields, no bead-wearing hippies and no giant pink drug cloud hanging overhead. In fact it was lovely. Shimmering in the distance, past the swarms of happy people, was an old stately home not unlike Winterfold. Music from some faraway stage wafted through the air, pleasantly muffled as if played through a pillow, whilst a hot-air balloon floated overhead in a cloudless blue sky carrying an advertising slogan that read ‘Smile’. The whole scene was so full of life and fun it was impossible to be in anything but a good mood.

‘Who owns this place? It’s incredible!’ asked Emma, fixing her sunglasses on her head as the four of them – Stella, Johnny, Ruan and Emma – meandered through the crowd.

‘Some rich lord who’s mad about music,’ replied Ruan laughing. ‘Look at all these people. It’s got to be a money-spinner. Maybe you could do a heavy metal festival at Winterfold.’

She tapped him on the arm, happy that she was getting better at being teased.

‘Don’t joke. I’m sure Rob has already thought about it. You’d better keep an eye out for roadies when my back is turned.’

‘Hey, there’s Rob now,’ said Stella, pointing towards the champagne tent.

They wandered over towards him. He was wearing the off-duty rock uniform of jeans, tee-shirt and sunglasses but he looked anything but relaxed as he talked forcefully into his mobile phone. When he saw the group drawing near he hung up and smiled.

‘Sorry, Kowalski are headlining tonight and I’m just checking everything is OK. They have to be closely monitored at all times,’ he said with a half laugh, tucking his phone back in his pocket.

‘Thanks so much for getting everyone tickets,’ said Stella, giving him a kiss on the cheek. ‘I think it deserves a drink. Or several. Champagne or beer and who’s coming with me?’

‘Shit, one of my old friends is over there,’ said Johnny. ‘I’m just going to say hi.’

‘I’ll get the beers in,’ said Ruan.

‘Then I’ll do the ’poo run,’ smiled Stella. ‘Who wants what?’

‘I have a drink coming,’ said Rob distractedly.

Before Emma could even think about what was happening, Ruan, Stella and Johnny dispersed, leaving her alone with Rob. They looked at each other and then at their feet.

‘Hey.’

‘Hi.’

‘I didn’t know you were coming, I would have got you a ticket,’ said Rob after a moment.

‘Well, here I am anyway,’ she said breezily despite feeling so awkward. The uncomfortable look on Rob’s face when he had seen her told Emma all she needed to know: the tickets Rob had given to Stella weren’t meant to include her.

‘I didn’t think you like rock concerts,’ he said with sly smile, ‘or rock music for that matter.’

‘Well, yes, you’re right, there. I’ve never been to one. Nothing like this anyway.’

‘But you were a student for about a million years. How can you have been a student and not gone to a festival?’