Page 182 of Private Lives

Her anger rose again.

‘Is that why you came round? Is that why you fucked me? To get me to sign on some dotted line?’

‘No,’ said Jim calmly. ‘We had sex because we both wanted to.’

He sat on the end of the bed and patted the space next to him. She glared at him for a moment, then shrugged and sat down. Jim reached out and stroked her hair away from her face.

‘Just read it, okay?’

She shook her head.

‘I don’t need to.’

He looked offended, but she smiled. ‘I mean I don’t need to read it because I know how good it will be. You’re the best, Jim. You know it.’

His expression softened.

‘Believe me, honey, you and Sam could be great together, and I’m talking Liz Taylor and Richard Burton great. Legendary.’

She picked up the document and started flicking through it. At first she was just humouring him. But as she read, she felt the hairs on her arms stand up. It was fantastic, even better than she had hoped. Lists of impressive brands who would be willing to pay multimillion-dollar endorsements, together with the name and number of each company’s CEO – Jim wasn’t just talking theoretically; he’d actually spoken to them to talk numbers. There was a list of the Forbes top twenty highest-earning couples – David and Victoria were there, Jay-Z and Beyoncé, but despite four hit movies between them, Jess and Sam hadn’t made it in. Jim was right: clearly they weren’t maximising their potential.

Then she got to the big one: projections for the earnings of Brand Samica. Year one, $110 million. She’d own a Gulfstream outright before she knew it.

Further on in the document were a raft of what Jim had labelled ‘options’, business ventures or franchises she could pick and choose from, each bringing in serious passive income, money she would have to do little or nothing to earn, each of them solidly ‘on brand’. A chain of chic restaurants, complete with branded cooking sauces for the supermarket, a range of swimwear bearing her signature, a movie production company ready-loaded with the rights to a dozen books Jim already knew the studios would kill for. A range of perfumes – Jim had already thought of a name: ‘Innocence by Jessica Carr’. Jessica had to admit she’d always found the idea of a personalised scent tacky, but looking now at the amount she could earn, it was phenomenal. A large chunk of Elizabeth Taylor’s fortune had come from perfume revenues – and Jessica hadn’t even known Liz had a scent!

Half a billion dollars in ten years, that was Jim’s estimate, and Jessica could feel the flutter in her chest at the prospect. Money still mattered, it was all that mattered. She had never forgotten the humiliation of having to queue for free school meals or wearing unfashionable jeans because they were hand-me-downs. ‘Welfare! Welfare!’ her school friends had chanted. All because Daddy had fallen off some scaffolding.

‘You’ve not got to the best bit,’ said Jim quietly, wrapping a towel around his waist.

She turned to the back of the business plan.

‘Internet TV?’ she queried, reading the proposal.

‘Baby, you’re not thinking big enough. All Woman, your little movies filmed during hiatus.’

‘They’re not little, Jim,’ she objected. She’d worked her butt off to break into movies.

‘Jess, ten years ago, every two-bit actor on TV would have sold their grandmother for a big Hollywood career. But things are changing real fast. In five years, there’s hardly going to be anyone left going to the movie theatre, and you’re going to get left behind.’

She opened her mouth to speak, but Jim was on a roll.

‘Think about the brand, Jess. People love Jessica Carr because you’re in their living rooms, you’re part of their lives. That’s what they want from you, so give it to them.’

She frowned.

‘Internet TV is small fry.’

‘Right now. But by the end of this decade, TV, movies and the Internet will be completely integrated. I want you to own that new medium, Jess, creating, producing and starring in your own show, watched by a global audience. I think you can be the female Seinfeld.’

She didn’t need Jim to tell her how wealthy Jerry was.

‘What about All Woman?’

‘They’re screwing with you, honey. I’ve heard about Brooke Geller. Do this season and then ship out.’

‘To what?’

‘I have a client, a writer who has come up with something that is perfect for you. There’s a great role for Sammy in there too. You know how great he is with comedy.’