My Dark Knight Page 2

  “Mom used to sing this to us to get us to fall asleep. Do you remember?” He’s playing Lullaby by Brahms.

  “I miss her so much,” I tell him quietly.

  But he doesn’t reply. His answer is all in his playing. His fingers caress the keys and his eyes, half closed, speak of nostalgia for a life cut short; a woman we both loved beyond measure, who was taken from us too soon – her bones ravaged by that evil disease which begins with C and ends in heartbreak. Before I know it, I’m weeping, as if all my pain has finally unleashed itself. Arielle, the Independent One can finally let loose her pent-up sorrow.

  “Why her?” I mumble. “Why her...”

  Kevin stops his playing short. “I know. I know.”

  I take his hand and try to change the mood, “Breakfast, come on! You think this room is cool? You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet,” I joke, “wait till you see the roof terrace.”

  I lead him upstairs, Prince excitedly at our heels, and I listen to Kevin’s oohs and ahs as he flips out about the décor, the priceless antique furniture and works of art. His eyes settle on a giant, red, heart painting with a multi-colored background. “That’s a Jim Dine,” he observes, “isn’t it? A. Goddam. Jim. Freakin. Goddam. Dine!”

  “Max gave that to me a few weeks ago. An engagement present.”

  “Oh, so like, the rock of a diamond solitaire you’re wearing on your finger wasn’t enough already?”

  I laugh. “Obscene, isn’t it?”

  “Well, it is big, to say the least.”

  “It belonged to a Russian princess.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Of course it did.”

  “The diamond was part of a pendant and Max had it made into a ring.”

  Kevin’s reaction to the roof terrace with its real lawn, trees, and sumptuous views across Central Park and the Manhattan skyline is even more extreme than mine was the first time I laid eyes on it all, back in June. “So the view wasn’t enough... there has to be a freakin’ park on top of this roof as well?”

  “All for Prince,” I say.

  “I’m going to dress up as a dog.”

  I pull my cardigan tighter around my waist. “It’s a little cool, let’s go into the orangery and have breakfast.”

  “Don’t we need to take Prince for a walk in the park first? Do his poops and stuff?”

  “Don’t worry, he’s been out already.”

  “You took him out this morning so early?”

  “No, Prince has a kind of nanny. She comes every morning at 7am sharp. Then again at eleven and every four hours if somebody’s home. If I’m at work then his nanny – her name’s Suzie – she hangs out with him. Prince is never alone.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  I giggle. “No, really. Prince lives up to his name. He’s treated like royalty.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “Come here, Prince, let me see that new collar you’re wearing.” He wiggles up to me sporting a smart, electric blue collar. He’s wagging proudly. “Suzie must have bought him that; she’s always getting him gifts.”

  “So who else is running the show, besides Prince’s nanny?”

  “The housekeeper, Patricia, two or three cleaning ladies, a chef who comes and goes if Max isn’t in the mood to cook and—”

  Kevin interrupts me with a waving hand. “Stop! I’ve heard enough, I can feel myself turning green.”

  I pour some coffee for us both, and he’s staring at me as if dissecting my very being. Uh, oh, what now...

  “Arielle, what is wrong with you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What the hell are you playing at with this winter wedding bullshit? Winter – hello – is two months away. What are you waiting for?”

  “Look, Max and I have only known each other for just over four months. I want to be absolutely sure.”

  “Sure of what? That you’re even luckier than Kate Middleton?”

  “I don’t want to make a mistake. I want for us to really know each other, warts and all.”

  “You want him to know about your warts? Are you crazy? Snap him up now before he realizes what’s happened. You don’t want him to see your goddam warts, or he could change his mind!”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Kev. Actually, that wart expression is kind of gross. Let’s just say I want us to be great friends as well as lovers before we tie the knot. I want to be open about everything and anything concerning my past, and for him to do the same with me.”

  “Are you insane? Keep your goddam mouth shut about anything at all that makes you seem less than perfect. Keep any skeletons you may have locked firmly in the closet. You cannot jeopardize this golden opportunity.”

  “I want us to be honest with each other.”

  Kevin doesn’t hear me – he rattles on, “Okay, I get the whole fairytale wedding thing in Lapland. I do. The whole reindeer pulling the sled, the white, silk-velvet ribbons on their antlers, the powdery snow – I get it, but please, don’t be a fool – you need to get on with this marriage already and stop dithering around.”

  “You want me to settle for a quick wedding just in case my fiancé changes his mind? If he changes his mind, then I would have done the right thing. If he’s that mercurial, I shouldn’t have been thinking about being with him in the first place.”

  Kevin rolls his eyes. “What’s the worst that can happen? The marriage fails and you end up with a nice settlement, thank you very much.”

  “No, Kevin, that is not the plan. I would never marry for money, you know that. I’ve suggested to Max that we do a pre-nup. That way, it’s clear from the outset that I don’t want a cent if it turns out we aren’t made for each other.”

  Kevin buries his head in his hands. His exasperation is palpable. “Please, Arielle, stop. I just can’t bear hearing you throw your life away.”

  “I’m being practical. Realistic. Strong.”

  “You’re being a dumbass – burning all your bridges. What does Max say about this pre-nup nonsense?”

  “He says no, and that he doesn’t even want to discuss it.”

  “Phew, that’s lucky.”

  “Try one of these Danish pastries – they melt in your mouth,” I say, offering him a platter of tempting goodies, knowing that’s the only thing that will shut Kevin up – at least for a while.

  But all he does is stuff the pastry in his gob and talk with his mouth full. “And what’s with all this business you’ve started together, this Finders Keepers thingamyjig?”

  “Finders Keepers Enterprises.”

  “Yeah. Why can’t you be content with just being a trophy wife, so to speak? You’d never have to work again in your life.”

  “That is so not my style, and you know it. Besides, Max secretly likes me being into my career. He bought Dandelion Films. It’s all under the umbrella of his new company, Finders Keepers Enterprises, run by me. And he and I are the directors of it, except he’s a silent partner. He doesn’t want any say in how the company’s run day to day – it’s all up to me. So he says, but I’ll need his help. I want him there – I’m not that proficient with the business side of things. We’ve started doing feature films, keeping on Dandelion for the documentary side.”

  “So where does that leave your boss, Cecile?”

  “She’s on board, too. She came with the package.”

  “So wait, that means you are now technically Cecile’s boss and the tables have turned and you’re like, some big-shot who’s going to hang out with Tom Cruise and Matt Bomer and all those sexy TV and movie sirens?”

  I laugh and breathe in the heady scent of winter jasmine entwined about the trellises of the orangery. “Who knows where it could lead – it’s exciting though.”

  Kevin taps his finger on his nose. “Just exactly how rich is your husband to-be? That is, if you move your skinny ass and hurry up and marry him and don’t blow it all somehow.”

  “Max is a very powerful man. Much more powerful than I had first imagined.”

  �
��Not to mention drop-dead gorgeous. If he wasn’t going to be my future brother-in-law, I swear I’d—”

  “Kevin, please, you’ll shock Prince.”

  “Sorry – go on, you were saying...”

  “I actually had no idea how wealthy he was – his T-shirt and jeans look kinda had me fooled.”

  “Doesn’t he wear a suit to meet clients?”

  “Very rarely. Only if the clients are way older.”

  Kevin narrows his blue eyes. “Bet all women go weak at the knees for him in a suit.”

  True. Very true. “He’s very laid back about the way he presents himself. On the outside, that is. But I’ve overheard him speak business on the phone. I wouldn’t want to cross him, that’s for sure. Although he never raises his voice, and he’s always polite and friendly, but there’s a kind of chilling power he holds over people. I can’t explain it.”

  Kevin is still devouring his Danish. “A computer coder, huh?”

  I take a sip of coffee. “That was what he led me to believe when I first met him. He’s very modest – it’s his British upbringing. He never discusses money or boasts about his wealth. He likes to make out he’s just a regular guy.”

  “And what about Psycho-sister – does she get a stake in this new company of yours?”

  “Jenny? No, this has nothing to do with her.” I look at my watch. “Oh my God, Kevin, speaking of my new company, I need to run or I’ll be late for my meeting. Will you be okay on your own?”

  “Hell yeah, are you kidding? I get to play king of the castle.”

  “Sorry, that’s Prince’s role, isn’t it sweetheart?” I say cupping Prince’s wide black head in my hands and giving him a kiss on the nose.

  “Ha, ha, very cute.”

  “Be good, big brother, and don’t get into mischief. If you need anything, Patricia can help. See you later.”

  “Later, baby sis.”

  2

  THIS IS MY FIRST OFFICIAL meeting with a new client at Finders Keepers Enterprises. We have spoken several times on the phone already and even signed a preliminary deal, but this is the first time we are to meet face to face.

  I’m obviously nervous, but I feel poised in my sharp, navy blue suit and high heels. I’m meeting a big Hollywood mogul named Billy Gold – the old-school type who smokes a cigar and calls women ‘sweetheart’. But he’s friendly and easy going. A little too much for my liking.

  As I approach him, he looks me up and down but then his eyes wander to my engagement ring and he clears his throat as if to say, ‘okay, never mind’. I smile at him. I’ve come across these types before at work. This man doesn’t faze me at all.

  He has been waiting for me in our lobby, a cool, modern space with vast opaque glass doors that smoothly open as you approach them. We shake hands and introduce ourselves, and I lead him into my office. The windows here look down onto Fifty Seventh Street. There’s a large glass desk and sleek sofas and chairs, all in off-white or cool-gray. It is the antithesis of Max’s apartment. Here we are talking state-of-the-art, Italian – very contemporary.

  Just as Billy Gold has eased himself into one of the brand new designer couches, and I have sat myself down and crossed my legs neatly on my swivel chair, my cell buzzes. I look down and see a message has come in from Max. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist. I quickly read it.

  Just remembering you naked on the bed this morning has made me hard. Can’t stop thinking about your tits and arse and making you come. Can’t wait to get home and fuck you senseless. X

  Bastard – he knew exactly what time this meeting was. He has ways of keeping me in check. Or is it another test? To see if I’ll break? See if I’ll be able to remain composed. A second ago I was cool and poised. Now I feel a rush of adrenaline and heat surge through my body. I squeeze my legs together. Uh oh, no, I mustn’t do that or you-know-what could happen. My heart’s racing from Max’s schoolboy message, my breath short. Who would think that a sassy twenty-three-year-old year-old could be knocked out like this every time the one she loves comes on to her? But it’s not like that when you’re in love. Especially when it catches you off guard the way it did for me. When you feel the way I do about someone, all your barriers come crashing down. I was a loner when I met Max, and he changed me into a team player.

  Team Max.

  I switch off my cell so I can’t be distracted again and continue with my conversation with this important producer. I take a deep breath and say, “I read the script changes.” Billy Gold is now lounging comfortably – his weighty body spread out like a sea lion. “I think they’re great,” I add.

  “I’m so pleased,” he replies with a grin.

  I sit erect and try to turn my imagination into a blank canvas – erase the image of Max and his erection. “I know we signed on this project already, but have you considered the leads going to women?” I ask calmly.

  The producer’s eyebrows shoot up. “Women?”

  “Yes, women.”

  “But, sweetheart, this is a buddy movie.”

  “Flipping gender roles works in a buddy movie. Think about Thelma and Louise. It beyond worked – it’s a classic. You get my point.”

  He temples his fat, sausage-like fingers. “I hadn’t even considered that.”

  “Would you like to think about it? Sleep on it?”

  He gets up and pads his heavy frame over to the high window and looks down onto the street below. The usual background of New York City can be heard – muted by the thick triple-glazed windows, but still evident – the sirens never sleep, not in Manhattan. People below are rushing this way and that like ants on a mission. Billy Gold snorts. “What are you saying? That if I don’t consider the leads going to actresses, you’ll be unhappy?”

  “Let’s just say that Finders Keepers Enterprises will be less enthusiastic about doing future projects with you unless we feel we can make our mark. We want to put our stamp on the movie industry – shake things up a bit, not just churn out the usual run-of-the-mill, same-old-same-old blockbuster. We’d like to see more females in lead roles getting equal pay with men, and less ageism when it comes to actresses. There is no reason why beautiful leading women always have to be in their twenties. That message is getting worn and tired, and frankly, you’re losing a big chunk of the audience that way.”

  “Oh.”

  I edge towards this powerful man and say, “There are some amazing, very sexy actresses in their forties: Charlize Theron, Jennifer Aniston, Cameron Diaz, Cate Blanchett, Gwyneth Paltrow, Nicole Kidman, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Amy Adams, Lucy Liu –”

  “Lucy Liu is Asian.”

  “So? She’d be right for the part of Sunny. She’s beautiful as well as feisty. Finders Keepers Enterprises wants to see equal opportunity for all genders and minorities, including equal pay.”

  “I don’t know, I can’t afford two names, Arielle.”

  I keep talking. “Those are just the big stars. There’s a lot of other talent out there too.”

  I can hear his heavy, considered breathing.

  “There’s nothing in that script that dictates to us that a man should play those roles,” I go on, “a woman can kick ass just as easily, excuse the expression. I see women playing those parts.”

  “Okay, Arielle, let me think this through. I need to make some calls. This has taken me by surprise. Quite a ball-buster, aren’t you?”

  “No, Mr. Gold, I’m a pussycat.”

  He looks at my ring and then says, “Does your fiancé know what he’s letting himself in for?”

  “No, he doesn’t. I thought I’d surprise him.”

  He chuckles. “Call me Billy, by the way.”

  I shake hands with him to denote the end of the meeting. I mean, there really isn’t much more to discuss –either he goes for my pitch or he doesn’t. “Okay, Billy, let’s take a rain check. Call me as soon as you’ve thought this over.”

  “So you’re not flexible on this woman thing?” he asks.

  “I’m always flexible, b
ut the ‘woman thing,’ as you describe it, is an important factor, like it or not. We females do make up almost half of the world’s population, and we’re pretty bored of playing second fiddle all the time.”

  “A feminist.”

  “Not a feminist, just a human being who knows what’s fair. And you can’t be a woman in today’s world without busting the odd ball here or there.” I give him a wry smile and he laughs. “We’ll speak later,” I say assertively. “Call me.”

  I walk him to the elevator, and when he’s out of sight, I punch my fists in the air. “Yes!” I never imagined he’d even consider letting the roles go to women. I call Max to tell him the good news. No answer. He must be in the air. As I pass back by the lobby, Jeanine, our receptionist, an ice-cool brunette who matches the décor perfectly she’s so glamorous, tells me in a husky voice. “Arielle, there’s a video clip waiting for you.”

  Max and I have instructed everyone who works here to call us by our first names. No pretentions here. We want to make everyone at Finders Keepers Enterprises feel like extended family.

  “Billy Gold brought in a video? He forgot to mention that.”

  “No, your fiancé,” she says emphasizing the F of fiancé.

  “Max? When?”

  He called me ten minutes ago. You weren’t picking up, he said. Check your email. There should be a video in one of your messages.”

  “Thank you, Jeanine.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I go back into my office and look through my emails. There is an attachment. I click on it. I simultaneously laugh and cover my mouth with my hand in shock. I should be used to this by now, but Max’s shenanigans still take me by surprise. He’s lying on a bed in the private jet. Then the focus zooms in on his huge cock taking up the whole screen. He must have shot this with his iPhone. There it is – smooth as silk in its full glory, hard and thick as granite, the head proud. His hand grips it as he lies on the bed, propped up against cushions – the self-held camera pans up – he’s languidly seductive, his eyes half closed, his tongue running lustfully along his dark red lips. I hear his deep voice. “Babe, I’m on the plane before takeoff in this private cabin thinking of you, kicking myself that I didn’t force you to come with me today. I miss you already.”