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He took another step towards her, so close that she could see their breath meet in the space between them.
‘You’re a very beautiful woman. I can see what caught David’s attention. But personally I think you’d make a better mistress than a wife.’ Robert lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. It was only the slightest gesture, but loaded with sexuality.
She jerked back as he smiled at her, his white teeth almost glowing in the dark.
‘Don’t worry, I prefer a less uptight fuck,’ he laughed, looking at her with hard, unflinching eyes.
Without thinking, she slapped him across the cheek. Robert touched the pink skin on his face and narrowed his eyes. ‘Be careful, Brooke. I can cause a lot of trouble.’
He walked off towards the house.
Yeah? Well so can I, thought Brooke. So can I.
CHAPTER THIRTY–ONE
Parklands, the Asgills’ country estate in Bedford, an elite pocket of New York State, always looked glorious; but today, on the fourth of July, it looked particularly magnificent. In preparation for the family’s Independence Day festivities, the grounds–staff had manicured the lawns to perfection. The sky was the bright blue of a robin’s egg, against which the ordered line of forest green trees along the drive looked hyper–real. Liz walked across from the stables, back towards the neogothic house and smiled to herself. She was wearing jodhpurs and a fitted hacking jacket, having just returned from a bracing five–mile ride on her horse Dancer. Her mother’s white Rolls–Royce was parked ahead of her on the gravel drive, and there were staff bustling around the grounds. It’s like being in a scene from the Great Gatsby, she thought.
She walked around the side of the house and up a short flight of marble steps, her good mood putting a bounce in her step. Lunch was about to be served on the terrace, the table decorations suitably and stylishly patriotic. Jugs of red punch stood on the white tablecloths, along with little bunches of poppies, white roses, and delphiniums. From this position, Liz could see down into the gardens, where Greg, Parklands’ young gardener, was bending over to prune a hibiscus bush. She smiled a little wider.
The French windows leading into the study were open and Liz walked into the library to find Meredith sitting at the mahogany desk, leafing through a sheaf of papers.
‘Ah Liz, there you are,’ she said, peering over the top of her half–moon glasses. ‘I was just looking through these press cuttings that Tess Garrett gave me yesterday. I have to say she’s doing a very impressive job.’
‘Do you think?’ said Liz sceptically, sitting in an armchair and stretching her long legs in front of her. Thinking of Tess made her uncomfortable, recalling as it did that sordid Russ Ford episode, but Liz was confident that Tess had kept it from her mother; otherwise she’d have heard about it long before now.
Meredith he
ld up the cuttings file. ‘Yes, we had the lovely Vogue cover for Brooke, plus some excellent news stories: Brooke and David at a soup kitchen in Central Park, looking so in love. You know, I had my doubts about this photographer friend of Tess’s taking covert photographs of them, but it seems to be working. Then there’s a Forbes magazine article about William, and even something in the Wall Street Journal describing Sean as a philanthropist,’ she laughed. ‘Can you believe it?’
Her mother’s delight at Tess’s work annoyed Liz, but she waited patiently: surely Meredith would comment on the volumes of positive press that Skin Plus had received? She looked expectantly at her mother, her eyebrows raised. Meredith said nothing.
‘Are you going to get ready for lunch?’ she said finally. ‘I’m so glad you’ve brought Rav. He seems a very smart young man. Where in the world did you say he was from again?’
‘He’s American, Mum.’
‘Hmm … ’
Meredith averted her eyes. Liz didn’t like to guess what she was alluding to. Was there a hint of casual racism in her enquiries? Did Rav’s Indian heritage not fit in with her WASP ideal or the narrow–minded attitudes of her ageing Upper East Side friends?
I’m not seeking your approval, thought Liz. She was actually glad that her invitation of Rav to their fourth of July luncheon had provoked a reaction. She liked Rav. He was sociable, generous, well connected, and a good fuck. What more did anyone need from a man?
‘So did you see that Time put me in the Top Forty under Forty?’ asked Liz casually, wondering if Tess had managed to include that feature in the file of cuttings.
‘Yes, I heard,’ smiled Meredith, lifting a blonde brow. ‘I’m not surprised, of course. The Skin Plus launch is one of the most exciting I’ve seen in all my time in the industry.’
Was that a compliment? thought Liz, narrowing her eyes to view her mother. She almost believed it was.
The library door creaked open and in walked William in chinos and a white shirt, holding a glass of red punch.
‘Just wondered if you were coming through for lunch?’ he asked, catching Liz’s frown. ‘I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?’
‘No, no, we’re coming,’ said Meredith, rising to her feet. ‘We were just discussing Skin Plus.’
William looked at his mother and then Liz. ‘So you’ve told her?’
Meredith looked momentarily flustered and reached for the door–handle. ‘Let’s eat first, shall we?’
Liz stepped forward and put her hand on the door. ‘Have I been told what, exactly?’ she asked.
