Page 81 of Private Lives

As she walked into her office, she frowned. Her windows overlooked the street and she could hear yelling and swearing coming from that direction. She peered down and was pleased to see the irate figure of Wayne Nicholls standing next to his Ferrari, waving his arms at two burly men in overalls. Behind them in the street was a pick-up truck labelled ‘Secure Towing Co.’.

Giggling to herself, she ran back down the stairs and out into the sunshine.

‘Little problem?’ She smiled innocently.

‘Thank God! A lawyer!’ Wayne said. ‘These meatheads are refusing to release the Ferrari from this bleedin’ truck. Tell him I’ll sue them.’

The first clamper merely raised his eyebrows. He’d clearly heard it all before.

Anna was tempted to let them carry out their threat, but she had an idea forming in her mind, and for that she needed Wayne on side.

‘Listen, Wayne, let me have a word,’ she said. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

She went over to talk to the clampers. What Wayne didn’t know was that the towing company was employed by Donovan Pierce to prevent people parking outside their office building – Larry had wanted it kept clear so he could park his Bentley.

‘Yeah, and don’t come back, either!’ shouted Wayne as they drove off. He turned to Anna and winked. ‘Cheers, darling.’

‘Actually, I need a favour.’

If Matthew Donovan could use the pap boss to his advantage, why shouldn’t she? Anna knew a lot about Wayne’s organisation. When she’d sued him as often as she had, it paid to know the background. Thanks to the explosion in demand for celebrity pictures over the past few years, he had expanded and diversified: a photographic studio and a model agency that specialised in glamour girls.

‘It’ll cost you,’ he said playfully.

‘How about you do it just to get on my nice side?’

‘How nice is your nice side exactly? Because I actually quite like the uptight bitch thing.’

‘Your model agency, FrontGirls? Do you know many of the models yourself?’

‘Shagged half of them,’ he said proudly. ‘I mean, what’s the point being the boss otherwise?’

‘I need to speak to someone. A blonde called Mandy.’

‘Mandy Stigwood? Incredible knockers?’

Anna smiled thinly.

‘What do you want to speak to Mandy for? What’s she done?’

Anna leaned in, whispering. ‘It’s just one of my clients fancies her. I thought I could have a word. Play Cupid.’

‘You? The ball-breaker. Playing Cupid? Come on, I wasn’t born yesterday.’

‘Is she one of your girls?’

‘Yes, she is.’

‘How often do you see her?’

‘Not often. But she’s got a shoot at my studios sometime this week, I think. Always make a note of which girls are popping down to the studios. I like to welcome them. Give it the personal touch.’

‘I’m sure. Can you sort it out, then? A quick chat between me and Mandy.’

He sighed deeply. ‘Go on. Seeing as you just sorted out the motor. We’ve got each other’s number. I’ll call you.’

‘Thanks, Wayne, you’re a star,’ she said, pecking him on the cheek.

He looked genuinely flustered.