Pleasure Island Read Online Free Page B

his neck for one. He adjusted the collar of his stripy, ill-fitting shirt. ‘What can I tell you? No one’s weally biting ...’
    Mia winced. When Bailey was imparting bad news, his speech impediment became almost intolerable.
    â€˜OK, forget about a bloody comeback,’ she snapped. ‘What about a Vegas tour? It worked for Manilow and Celine.’
    Bailey audibly exhaled. ‘We’ve been over this a million times, Mia.’
    â€˜I don’t know, Bailey,’ she sing-songed, then took a deep sigh. ‘You must be losing that magic touch of yours.’ She lit another Vogue cigarette, her jewelled Manolo’s tapping anxiously against the polished, wooden flooring. ‘I’ve been in this business for nigh on forty years – forty fucking years – and not one bastard wants to throw me a lifeline?’
    Bailey jumped up from his desk, his crumpled shirt sticking to his ever-expanding waistline with perspiration. He stood by the huge glass wall and looked out onto the skyline –
    a view that continually provided him comfort no matter how often he looked at it – and he paused for a moment, preparing to play his final card.
    â€˜Well, actually, there is one thing ...’
    â€˜Oh?’ Mia’s eyes widened, a flicker of interest reigniting, momentarily softening her obstinate expression. She watched as Bailey opened the drawer to his antique desk: Victorian, very Sherlock Holmes, shipped over from London, no doubt. Bailey slid the envelope across the desk towards her.
    â€˜And what is this?’
    He took a cigarette from her discarded pack on the desk. He’d spent the past six weeks on those damn patches in a futile attempt to quit but ten minutes with Mia was enough to have him reaching for his Dunhill lighter.
    â€˜It’s an invitation,’ he said, biting the tip between his yellowing veneers as he flicked the flint with his thumb.
    â€˜To what?’
    Baily snorted, smoke escaping his nostrils like steam from a raging bull’s.
    â€˜Well, read it and you’ll see.’ He was careful to keep the impatience from his voice, watching her carefully as she began to read. There was a moment’s silence before she finally spoke.
    â€˜I take it this is a joke?’ She looked up at him with dark eyes, her lips thinning into a grim line.
    â€˜Do you see me laughing, sugar?’
    Mia threw the envelope back at him across the desk as if she’d touched poison.
    â€˜Forget it, Bailey.’ Her tone was sharp as a blade.
    â€˜It’s a free holiday, Mia,’ he quickly added as part of his pre-rehearsed sales pitch. ‘Think about it: two weeks of unadulterated luxury on this new place of his ...’
    â€˜But McKenzie ...’ Her voice was tight as a trampoline.
    Bailey took a breath and softened his tone. ‘Look, you want a comeback right? Well, if anyone can give you what you want it’s McKenzie.’
    â€˜That bastard has nothing I want,’ Mia fired back, her hands visibly shaking as she extinguished her cigarette.
    Bailey felt the panic swell inside his guts like rising dough. He’d made McKenzie a promise he’d get her to agree to this somehow – anyhow – though frankly that goddamn blackmailing motherfucker had given him little choice.
    Bailey watched his client carefully for clues as to her state of mind. He’d always been intrigued by Mia’s hatred of McKenzie. Clearly she had her reasons.
    â€˜As your agent I would advise you to think about it,’ he said, with as much professional clout as his conscience would allow. ‘Personal opinions aside, you know he could turn things wround for you in a heartbeat.’ He paused. ‘And imagine Dickie’s face when he sees you back in the spotlight, eh? Think about it, cherie, hmm?’
    Mia stood bolt upright, and Bailey’s spirits instantly lifted.
    â€˜Who else has been invited?’ she enquired with a