“Poppy? That is indeed a coup, Miss Dashwood. But as for Dominic…” he shrugged. “I’m afraid he won’t be performing at your re-launch. He’s signed on with Maison Laroche to represent my new men’s fragrance.”
Natalie blinked. “Dominic is your new male model?” After the Wedding-gate disaster, how had Dominic Heath landed a contract to model for Maison Laroche’s men’s fragrance campaign? Modelling so wasn’t his thing.
But money was. Her eyes narrowed. Klaus must have offered him shedloads of cash. And with Keeley threatening to sue Dominic for mental anguish, he’d need every penny.
Klaus’s smile was smug. “Dominic is the face of Dissolute. The advertising campaign launches next week.”
“But he’s already signed a contract to perform at our re-launch,” she protested.
“Well,” Klaus said with a shrug, “it’s up to the lawyers, no? But there is a clause in his contract which strictly forbids him from working for another fashion house, label, or—” he paused smugly “—department store.”
“But he’s headlining Glastonbury next month! You don’t mean he’s cancelling his concert, as well?”
“No. His concert and recording schedule is a different matter altogether.”
Natalie felt panic rising, and struggled to keep her words calm. “But Dominic sells tickets, and he’ll pack people in at the re-launch. We had him first, and we mean to keep him.”
Rhys studied Klaus. “I’m sure we can work something out, Herr von Richter.” His words were polite but steely.
“Perhaps. As to the rest, I wish you luck. Phillip Pryce is talented, but untried. I hope you don’t regret your decision to feature him in favour of more established talent. You are taking a great risk.”
“Yes,” Natalie agreed coolly, “but fashion is risk, isn’t it? Today’s unknown might be tomorrow’s Next Big Thing.” She sighed in mock sympathy. “But I understand your hesitation. After all, Maison Laroche quit taking risks long ago.”
He stood, quivering with outrage. “You haf wasted enough of my time. Good day to you both.” And he stormed out.
Rhys looked at Natalie, his brow hiked. “That went well.”
“It did, actually,” she said defensively. “Well, except for Dominic not being allowed to do the re-launch. We’ll have to find a way around that. But at least I gave him something to think about. Phillip Pryce is younger and edgier; and Klaus is quite vain. He won’t want to be outdone by his own pupil.”
“I hope you’re right,” Rhys said, and crossed his arms against his chest. “There’s just one flaw in your plan. You haven’t talked to Phillip yet, have you? Or Poppy Simone.”
“Well…no.” She paused. “I haven’t actually asked Dominic yet, either. But I will do. Today.”
Rhys let out an exasperated breath. “See that you do. I’ll find out what our options are if Maison Laroche holds Dominic to his new contract.” He scribbled a note on his blotter. “We’ll go with your idea to use new, young designers,” he added as he tossed his pen down.
She looked at him, eyes wide with surprise. “We will?”
“Yes. Screw the haute couture houses. Dashwood and James will showcase new talent instead, one or two designers each season. We’ll all get plenty of publicity into the bargain.” He stood up. “Do you fancy lunch? I know a great little Italian place around the corner.”
“Only if you let me order for myself this time,” Natalie said warily. “And promise not to criticise me over dessert.”
“I promise.” Rhys came around the desk and headed for the door. “I want to discuss your idea in more detail.” He paused at the door, looked over his shoulder at her, and frowned. “Well, get a move on, Miss Dashwood. We haven’t got all day.”
As Rhys and Natalie arrived at the restaurant, Natalie’s mobile rang. She paused on the steps and glanced at the screen. Dominic.
“Sorry, I have to take this,” she told Rhys. “Go ahead in, I won’t be a minute.”
“Dominic!” she hissed into her mobile as Rhys went inside. “Where are you? You’re all over the tabloids—”
“Never mind that,” he interrupted tersely. “I’m standing by the post box.”
“What—?” Puzzled, Natalie glanced around. “I only see a dodgy-looking bloke in a cap and sunglasses—”
“That’s me! I don’t want to be recognised, do I?”
Doubtfully she approached him. “Dominic—?”
“Shh!” He grabbed her arm and pulled her around the corner. He slid his sunglasses down his nose. “I’ve really fucked things up this time, Nat.”
“Oh, Dominic,” Natalie said in exasperation, “why do you always do this?”
“Do what?”
“Self destruct! If something’s good, you always screw it up. I mean, look at us – we were happy once, weren’t we?”
He nodded.
“But you trashed it all, with your cheating and your constant lies. Now you’ve gone and trashed things with Keeley, too. Why?”
“Oh, well – what can I say? I fancied Victoria. And she wanted it as much as I did.”
Natalie rolled her eyes. “The point is, Dominic, you don’t do those sorts of things if you love someone.”
“I don’t love Keeley,” he snorted. “We used each other for publicity.” Dominic scowled. “Only now her music career’s skyrocketed, and mine’s gone straight into the crapper.”
“You must’ve known you’d get caught in that broom closet, especially so close to the start of the ceremony.”
“I was drunk, Nat! I only wanted a quick shag before I got myself shackled for life to Keeley.”
“She’s furious, you know. She’s saying all manner of nasty things about you to the press.” Nat smirked. “She told the Sun that you need sat nav and both hands to find your willy.”
“Bitch.” But there wasn’t any venom behind it; Dominic was too gutted to muster any real anger. He sighed. “I know I humiliated her, and I don’t blame her for retaliating. I don’t even blame her for suing me. I deserve it.”
Natalie raised her brow. “Do you think?”
“All I’ve got left is the ad campaign for Klaus…and he’s not best pleased with me now, either.”
“You’re all over the media, isn’t that what he wants?”
“Yeah, but it’s not exactly the kind of publicity he wants for Dissolute.”
“Look, I’m sorry for your problems, Dom, but I’ve got to go. Rhys is waiting.”
“Don’t want to keep Rhys waiting, do we?” Dominic snapped.
She thrust her mobile back in her handbag. “Look, Dominic, I don’t know what to tell you, except to ride it out and hope it goes away eventually.” She smirked. “Rather like your bridesmaid, Victoria.” She started to walk away.
“Nat – wait.” He grabbed her hand. “You’re not really serious about Gordon, are you?”
She turned back and