Friends & Rivals by Tilly Bagshawe Read Free Book Online Page B

father.
    â€˜Of course not,’ she said solemnly, scooping up her violin from a red brocade armchair in the corner. ‘Don’t worry, darling. You can count on me to be discreet.’
    Ivan watched her leave, noticing for the first time how short her legs were for her body and how unsexy her walk was from behind, knock-kneed and gawky. The time had come to end things with Miss Wu. He would disengage gently, as he always did, with expensive jewellery and flowery apologies, citing family commitments for his reluctant change of heart. Ivan prided himself on the fact that not one of the clients he’d shagged then grown tired of had ever left Jester, or fired him as a manager. Women were marvellous creatures. They’d accept just about anything from a man, as long as it was done with charm, and a few choice trinkets from Asprey’s.
    With Joyce gone, Ivan could begin his day in earnest. Farting loudly to kick things off, a triumphant trumpet sound heralding the dawn of male freedom, he turned on Test Match special and, blasting the sound through the flat’s state-of-the-art audio system, retired to the master bathroom for a shower. Afterwards, he laid out a variety of shirt and tie combos on the bed and began to give serious consideration to which made him look the most handsome. Ivan was, and had always been, terribly vain. But tomorrow’s meeting at ITV genuinely merited a careful attention to his appearance. He was effectively auditioning to become one of the judges on a new talent show, an updated version of X Factor that combined both classical and popular acts. Mike Grayson, ITV’s new head of programming, was flamingly gay and well known to have a soft spot for good-looking male presenters. Ivan Charles fully intended to flirt the socks off Grayson. Once he got the gig, he could begin a new charm offensive with Jack.
    Holding a peach shirt and royal blue tie up to the mirror, Ivan started.
Was that a noise downstairs?
He turned off the cricket and listened. At first there was nothing. Then there it was again, a scraping, scratching sound, a bit like a … key!
Oh my God, Catriona!
    Frantically Ivan tore around the apartment, hiding evidence of Joyce’s recent presence. Catriona never came to London – never, and certainly not unannounced. But she was the only other person with a key to the Eaton Gate flat, for ‘emergencies’. This was rapidly becoming an emergency. It was too late to get rid of the fishy sex-odour that still hung in the air, but Ivan managed to pick up and throw away his used condom wrapper and lock Joyce’s Rampant Rabbit vibrator in the bedroom safe before the front door finally swung open.
    â€˜Darling?’ he called out hoarsely. ‘Is that you? What a nice surprise.’
    He heard the slam of the door and thud of a suitcase hitting the floor. Surely she wasn’t thinking of staying?
    But it wasn’t Catriona.
    Kendall Bryce looked amused to find Ivan Charles, red in the face and flustered, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.
Well, well
, she thought,
what have we been up to?
Judging by the pervasive smell assailing her nostrils, Kendall could make an educated guess. As soon as he saw her, Ivan’s colour deepened.
    â€˜How did you get in?’ he stammered. ‘I thought you were my wife.’
    â€˜No,’ Kendall smiled knowingly. ‘Luckily for you, I’d say. Kendall Bryce.’ She extended a slender, diamond-encrusted hand. ‘Ivan Charles, I presume.’
    â€˜I … I thought you were staying at the Dorchester,’ said Ivan, hurriedly pulling on a pair of jeans.
    â€˜I was,’ said Kendall, ‘until Jack decided it was “unnecessarily extravagant”. He said that Jester had an apartment here and gave me the key. I
had
thought he wanted you to keep an eye on me. But perhaps it was the other way around?’
    Ivan studied her properly for the first time. She was shorter than she