‘Many,’ Aleksandr replied with a dry laugh. ‘But I feel we should invite only five couples.’
‘Why only five?’ Bianca asked, slightly disappointed.
‘It’s enough,’ he told her. ‘You make your list, I make mine. Then we will compare and decide who gets invited.’
Bianca grinned. ‘This is gonna be fun,’ she said, already planning her list.
‘Indeed it will,’ Aleksandr agreed.
Chapter Two
Ashley Sherwin stared at her image in the ornate mirror above the vanity for a full ten minutes before her husband, Taye, entered their streamlined bathroom with the marble counters and fancy rock-crystal chandelier — designed by Jeromy Milton-Gold, one of London’s most sought-after interior designers.
‘Whatcha lookin’ at, toots?’ Taye asked cheerfully, taking the opportunity to lean over her shoulder and check out his own image, which was, as usual, totally fine.
‘New makeup,’ Ashley muttered sulkily, annoyed that he’d caught her, wishing she’d locked the door.
Taye had no concept of the word ‘privacy’. Well, he wouldn’t, would he? He was a super-star footballer used to stripping off and basking in all the glory (not to mention the women) that came his way. Cheap and nasty little tarts, ready and willing to chase any famous man. She hated them all.
‘Well,’ Taye said, stretching his arms above his head, ‘you look right fit, an’ sexy as hell.’
Ashley had no desire to look hot and horny; her aim was to look like an elegant fashion icon, a fashionista with style to spare. Taye simply didn’t get it. He thought he was tossing her a compliment, but as far as she was concerned it was exactly the opposite.
She sighed. After six years of marriage Taye still had no clue who the person was that she aspired to be. Didn’t he realize that she was no longer the pretty blonde, twenty-two-year-old TV presenter he’d married? She was now the mother to their six-year-old twins, Aimee and Wolf. She was older, more mature. She knew what she wanted, and it was certainly not enough to be known as Taye Sherwin’s trophy wife.
They’d had to get married because she was pregnant — never the best of ideas, but better than being a single mother. Taye was a major catch. Black and beautiful. A sports hero. A money-making machine, what with all his various endorsement deals and super-star status.
They’d met on a TV show she’d been co-hosting with Harmony Gee, a former member of the girl group Sweet. Harmony was all over Taye, but it soon became obvious to everyone that he only had eyes for Ashley.
Before long they were a staple in the UK newspapers, billed as
Ashley was thrilled; she revelled in the attention. For six months she’d been pushed into the background while Harmony scored most of the big interviews; however, with all her newfound PR, her bosses at the TV station were suddenly regarding her with new respect, while Harmony was staring at her with daggers in her eyes.
Then Taye had managed to impregnate her, and that was that.
Taye was a super-star in all respects. The moment he found out she was pregnant, he’d insisted that they got married. Never mind about his playboy past, Taye was all about doing the right thing. Besides, he loved Ashley. She was perfect for him — a true English peach with her widely spaced blue eyes, flawless skin, long blond hair and curvy figure.
Taye’s mother, Anais, a heavy-set Jamaican woman, was not so pleased. ‘Yo should be marryin’ one of yo own kind,’ she had complained, her accent heavy with disapproval. ‘This Ashley gal’s nothin’ but a fancy show-pony. She not gonna make yo a satis-fyin’ wife.’
‘Yo’ mama’s right, son,’ Taye’s dad had agreed. ‘Yo wanna grab yo’self an island woman — more meat on dem bones. Juicy dark meat. Delicious!’
The last time Taye’s parents had visited Jamaica was forty years ago, so Taye chose to ignore their sage advice. Instead he forged ahead with elaborate wedding plans.
Ashley’s mother, Elise — a faded blonde who worked behind the makeup counter in a department store — was torn. The good news was that Taye was rich and famous. The bad news was that he was black.
Elise tried not to think in a racist way, but unfortunately she’d been raised to regard black people as inferior beings.
Fortunately, Ashley had never harboured any hang-ups about Taye being black. He loved her more than any man ever had — in fact, he kind of worshipped her, which she didn’t mind at all. Being worshipped by a very famous man whom every other woman lusted after was quite a kick.
Their lavish marriage made headline news. So did the birth of their twins three months later. Taye bought them all a magnificent house near Hampstead Heath, and everything was well in the world, except shortly after moving into their new home, Ashley suffered a bad bout of post-partum depression, and refused to go near the twins for the first six months of their lives. This forced Taye into moving his parents and Ashley’s mother into their house, which turned out to be a big mistake. The two grandmothers soon discovered that they loathed each other — especially when Anais accused the thrice-divorced Elise of making a play for her husband, an accusation Elise hotly denied.
The Sherwin household was not a happy one. Ashley, locked up in the master bedroom refusing to come out. The twins demanding attention day and night. And the mothers-in-law at war.
Taye attempted to keep the peace, although it wasn’t easy. And since Ashley shied away from any sexual contact, he was becoming increasingly frustrated.
So it came to pass that Taye cheated. And as luck would have it, the girl he cheated with (a page three model with outrageous boobs) couldn’t wait to run to the tabloids and sell her story for a ridiculous amount of money.
The headlines were relentless:
Oh, the humiliation! The fury! The shock that Ashley experienced. She’d hauled herself out of hiding and confronted her husband in a simmering rage.
His excuses were weak. No sex for months. A depressed wife. Crying babies. Warring mothers-in-law. And a buxom babe throwing herself at him during an aftershave commercial he was shooting.
Taye wasn’t made of stone. He’d fallen into those giant tits like a man starved for sustenance. He’d wallowed in them. Then after wallowing, he’d screwed the random girl, immediately regretted it, and run for his life.
The newspaper story had galvanised Ashley into action. She’d hurriedly hired two maternity nurses, banished both mothers-in-law to their own homes, and set about getting herself back in shape.
Meanwhile, Taye presented her with a ten-carat diamond ring, assured her his indiscretion would never happen again, paid for the boob job she demanded, and normal life resumed.
Only it wasn’t that normal. Ashley forgave, but the problem was, she had no intention of ever forgetting.
As the twins grew, Ashley began to think about her future, and what she could do to become more than just another footballer’s wife. She’d started by informing Taye that any ads or endorsements he did in the future should include her. He’d agreed. Having rocked the boat once, he damn sure wouldn’t be doing it again. Ashley meant everything to him, and he wasn’t about to risk losing her.
So, adwise, they gradually became a team. The Taye and Ashley Show. He with the shaved head, muscled body and killer smile. She with the baby-blue eyes, lush body, amazing boobs and tumbling blond curls. They got
