Power Games by Victoria Fox Read Free Book Online Page A

‘Don’t you trust me?’
    They approached a red light and the brakes shrieked.
    ‘Sure I do, kiddo.’
    ‘I want a lion,’ said Kevin, out of nowhere.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Like that one we saw at the zoo. Get me one.’
    Sketch chuckled. ‘It ain’t that easy, pal …’
    ‘I’m Kevin Chase, course it’s that fucking easy.’
    ‘Why a lion?’
    ‘Why not? They’re cool, aren’t they?’
    ‘They’re dangerous.’
    ‘Yeah, but they’re cool.’
    ‘You won’t be able to go anywhere near it.’
    Kevin swigged from a can of energy drink. ‘Sure I will, if it’s tame.’
    Sketch bit his tongue. What on earth was his client talking about?
    ‘Rusty,’ Kevin nodded into the back, ‘what do you think?’
    ‘Whatever you want, boss.’
    The Audi took a corner at speed. ‘It’s king of the jungle,y’know?’ said Kevin. ‘Manly. Like, the ultimate manly animal. And hairy. Really hairy.’
    ‘You want a hairy animal I’ll get you a guinea pig.’
    ‘Now you’re taking the fucking piss.’
    ‘I’m trying to be practical.’
    ‘Well, don’t. There’s no point doing what I do unless I get what I want, got it? You’re supposed to be my manager—so manage stuff, dickwad.’
    Sketch gritted his teeth. There was no point arguing. It was Joan’s fault. Anything Kevin wanted, Kevin got. Anything Kevin demanded was produced. Any word Kevin spoke was law. By the time Sketch had discovered him, at the tender age of twelve, Kevin had already been nurturing an impressive Napoleon Complex.
    You haven’t helped. You’ve made him into the monster he is.
    It was a relief when Kevin brought the car to a screeching halt outside the Guild Theatre. The entrance was a quarry of press. Stars drifted down the carpet, stopping to chat to camera, smiling and posing as they went. Hollywood king Noah Lawson, a coup for the event, was signing merch amid an adoring mass of women.
    A band of Little Chasers had been tipped off about Kevin’s arrival and, as the teen heartthrob emerged, their squeals reached blistering crescendo.
    ‘Kevin! OhmygodKevin! Kevin, I love you! Keviiiiiiiin!’
    Kevin waved, flashing his pristine teeth and criminally cute dimples. Sketch had to admit that despite Kevin’s disastrous moods and fatal tendency to strop, when it came to putting on a game face he was up there with the best. The kid was a pro.
    Kevin, meanwhile, was hitting his stride.
    It was a dream , he reassured himself as a sea of handsreached out to skim just a fibre on his blazer, only a dream. Nothing like that was ever going to happen. Plane crashes were the fate of old people, poor people, people who travelled on low-cost airlines in dirty foreign countries. No, a more likely end to Kevin Chase was total burnout, nervous breakdown: a meltdown to end all meltdowns …
    Imagine if he did it now! Just stripped naked and barrelled up to the gleaming gala entrance, blathering and drooling, maybe he could even deliver a steaming turd to the carpet to make absolutely sure? Instead he twirled for the crowd, performing one of his hallmark 360-degree dance moves, a splash of MJ mixed with Ne-Yo polished off with Usher, shooting one arm in the air as he sprung up on his ankles and released a high-pitched cry. Across the gangway he met Sketch’s approving gaze.
    Good little monkey, Kevin thought bitterly. Monkey did good.
    At the end of the carpet, billionaire entrepreneur Jacob Lyle, one of the cooler guys on the scene, was draped around a gorgeous six-foot brunette.
    What did it take to bag a woman like that? Kevin wondered sadly, absorbing her hip-hugging floor-length gown and the tight swathe of pastel-pink that barely covered her tits and ass. He imagined burying his head in those tits, plunging into her, making her moan, hearing he was the best she’d ever had, and having her admire the broad, muscled shoulders he yearned for so badly, working till he puked at the gym.
    As if that was going to happen. What was wrong with him?
    Every