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The scowl was etched across his face. “And you’re happy with this, are you? Not bothered that your face is going to be on every dirty cow’s Kindle screen the planet over? He can fuck right off if he thinks he’s using this picture to sell his seedy little porno book.”
I didn’t even attempt to argue the literary beauty of Vincent’s work. It would have fallen on deaf ears. “I gave him permission,” I said. “In writing. Signed, sealed, case closed.”
“Is it fuck,” he said. “What’s his fucking number?”
I couldn’t help but smile at his zeal. “I signed it off, Andy.Mysignature.”
“Queen fucking Elizabeth could have signed it off for all I fucking care, Faye.”
I focused on the twitch at the corner of his perfect mouth. “You’d be wasting your breath.”
“Don’t be so sure about that.” He stared right at me. “Look me in the eye and tell me you want your face on his poxy book.”
“It’s not that simple...”
“Itisthat simple.”
“Andy, seriously. I signed it off. End of.”
“Past tense. Permission fucking withdrawn. I have great lawyers, Faye, we’ll sue him for every penny he’s got, I promise.”
He rooted through his papers, pulled out a business card and began dialling before I could speak. The business card was one of those uber posh ones, watermarked on a thick, expensive grain. My hand was on his before he’d been connected, guiding the handset back into its cradle. “Thank you, I really appreciate your concern, but stop. Please.”
He didn’t let go of the phone. “If you’re worried about speaking to him...”
“I’m not,” I lied. “Look, I knew he’d be using that picture. It’s no big deal, he’s in Italy and I’m here, he’s busy writing books and I’m busy running a club.” I squeezed his hand. “Thanks, though. It’s nice to have someone in my corner.”
He swallowed, but kept his expression deadpan. “I mean it, Faye, we could fight this.”
“And I mean it when I say it’s no big deal. It’s just a picture.” I ignored the worms twisting in my stomach.
He gestured to the screen.Bird in the Bush.The title still made my heart race. “Topaz said you’re thisMagpiewoman,whatever the fuck that means, and what’s all thisdubious consentshit? Did he hurt you?”
I forced a smile. “Maybe there’s some of me in Magpie, but she’s just a character. It’s just fiction.”
“Justfiction?” His eyes were so demanding. “Because if it isn’t...”
“It’s hardly a biography. Maybe I was a muse for Vincent, maybe some of it islooselybased on real life, but it isjusta story.” My heart was thumping so loud I feared he’d hear it, but he let out a sigh.
“Fine.” He dropped the phone and pushed the business card back amongst the paperwork.
I used the opportunity to retreat to my desk. “Cheques are all banked. What next?”
He swivelled his chair to face me, and the fine hairs on my arms bristled. “Just answer me one thing. Why did you leave him?”
I hesitated for only a second. “End of the road.”
“End of the road?” I could feel his stare, hot on my face. “Why?”
“I wasn’twithVincent, Andy. I stayed to help him organise his Venice events. It didn’t work out. We weren’t a couple. Not likethat.”
“Not like what?”
“Not like anything.” I shrugged. “We messed around occasionally, mainly in public. That isn’t a relationship.”
He paused for a long moment. Long enough to catch me off guard. “You loved him.”
The pang of heartache took me by surprise. “I never said I didn’t.”
