Gold Diggers. Tasmina Perry

Чтение книги онлайн.

       9

      Karin stood by the fountain in the garden of Knightsbridge Heights waiting for Adam. The night had turned chilly and most of the guests were inside drinking and dancing. She knew he would seek her out eventually, quietly confident that she had made a lasting impression at Strawberry Hill House. Of course, Karin did not need to meet Adam Gold at the launch to get to know him better; she was a woman who liked to be prepared. No sooner had she received her invitation to the Knightsbridge launch than she was trawling the Internet for every story, interview and news piece on the Midas Corporation in Forbes, Fortune and the New York Times. Knowledge was a power that she was prepared to use every bit as ruthlessly as her sexuality.

      The headlines she found spoke for themselves:

      GOLD DEVELOPMENT THE BIGGEST IN SE ASIA

      MIDAS SHARE RISE BREAKS HANG SENG RECORD

      ADAM GOLD MAKES ANOTHER KILLING

      The more she read about Adam, the more she felt they were kindred spirits. She recognized a drive, ambition and entrepreneurial spirit in Adam that she felt in herself. His background was one of wealth: his grandfather Aaron Grogovitz, a Hungarian emigrant who had settled in New Jersey in the 1930s and changed the family name to Gold, had made a fortune developing property in the post-war years. A devout Jew, the only thing he priced above family was his religion. So when his son David, a handsome college graduate on whose shoulders Aaron pinned the entire hopes of his empire, declared that he was to marry pretty classmate – and gentile – Julia Johnson, Aaron cut him off without a penny.

      According to most accounts, David didn’t seem entirely distraught, happy to raise his family running a small real-estate agency in Yonkers. His son Adam, however, was a different animal altogether, having inherited every ounce of his grandfather’s drive and ambition, he won a full scholarship to Yale, but dropped out in the first year – why waste time in a library, he reasoned, when there were fortunes being made on Wall Street? Luther and Katz, Adam’s first employers, were a small New York investment house muscling in on the junk bond market championed by Michael Milken, and their traders were making a lot of money very, very quickly. After Milken’s arrest in 1987, Adam got out while the going was good, sinking his $10-million fortune into the business that was in his blood – real estate. He bought buildings in Tribeca for cash, converted them into designer lofts and sold them at a premium to wealthy traders. But his business really took off in 1992, when he bought landmark Manhattan buildings for peanuts out of the rubble of the property crash.

      Suddenly Adam Gold was richer than the bankers, businessmen and celebrities to whom he sold £20-million apartments, richer than the CEOs who occupied his office blocks. His Manhattan home was one of the most talked-about townhouses in ‘The Grid’, the name given to the most exclusive blocks in the Upper East Side, as well as properties in Nassau, Lake Como and Dark Harbor in Maine. At forty-five, Adam Gold was eligible with a capital ‘E’ and speculating who would get him down the aisle had become a sport in the American society pages.

      Karin was still lost in thought, turning all this information around in her head, when she heard a whisper in her ear.

      ‘Earth calling Karin …’

      ‘Adam,’ she smiled, turning to kiss him lightly on the cheek. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’

      ‘Literally, I hear. I thought you were in Paris for the collections.’

      She nodded. ‘For work not pleasure. My label shows there, plus I have to attend a trade fair to look at new fabrics for next season.’

      ‘Premiere Vision?’ asked Adam, gently taking her arm to steer her further down the garden.

      ‘You know it?’ asked Karin surprised. ‘I don’t meet many men who know so much about the fashion industry.’

      ‘I spend half my life with interior designers,’ he shrugged. ‘The gap between fashion and interiors is shrinking all the time.’

      ‘Umm, I guess we’re both selling a lifestyle to the same sort of people.’

      Now he had led Karin to a quieter part of the Winter Garden where the background noise of the party had faded to a hum. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he sensing the same crackle of chemistry between them? Was he thinking about how long they could wait before they should end up in bed? She looked at him shrewdly. His face certainly wasn’t giving anything away; it was impassive and thoughtful, like a chess grand master waiting for her to make the next move.

      ‘Well, I think the apartments are incredible,’ said Karin quickly. ‘I heard a rumour that you’ve kept the best apartment for yourself.’

      He nodded. ‘I could show you if you like, then you can make up your own mind.’

      Karin felt as if they were in some elaborate Regency dance, both skirting around one another, slowly observing and sizing each other up, each trying to stay three moves ahead of the other.

      ‘I should really go and find my friend,’ said Karin with some reluctance. ‘She’s a little depressed and I’m worried she might throw herself into the fountain if I don’t stop her.’

      Karin was scanning his face, willing him to look crestfallen at her refusal, but he merely nodded. ‘Maybe some other time, then.’

      Karin returned the nod, determined not to show her own disappointment. Finally Adam smiled. ‘You know, you’re still the only woman I’ve had a decent conversation with in London,’ he said, as if it was a private joke between the two of them.

      ‘I didn’t know you were keeping count,’ smiled Karin, feeling a small flame of triumph.

      ‘So would you like to go for dinner?’ he asked.

      It was Karin’s turn to make her chess move. ‘I’m very busy for the next week or two,’ she said.

      ‘Yes, so am I,’ he shrugged. ‘I’m in Venice for the carnival and Miami for business, but I’m sure we can find a window.’

      ‘How odd. I’m going to the carnival too,’ she replied as casually as she could.

      ‘Oh, that’s excellent. I was hoping you would give me the grand tour of London, but perhaps I can show you around Venice instead.’

      ‘Perhaps. I do know Venice very well,’ smiled Karin.

      Adam was shaking his head and smiling. ‘Are you always this difficult?’

      She grinned. ‘Only when I’m having fun.’

      ‘Molly Sinclair. You don’t look as if you’re having a good time.’ Molly turned round to see Marcus standing behind her. She had been leaning against the glass doors of the winter garden listening to a trickle of water falling into the circular pool. She was still fuming from her brief encounter with Adam Gold; that cocky shit had barely looked at her and he was constantly in an impenetrable throng of businessmen. To make matters worse, she’d spotted him cosying up to Karin Cavendish in the garden. She’d taken it out on Harry, ordering him to fetch her jacket from the Ferrari.

      ‘Well, СКАЧАТЬ