“Sit back down or I’ll shoot,” Gregg yelled at Anya as she continued on her path. “I’M NOT FUCKING WITH YOU, BITCH!”
Ryan couldn’t take it anymore–he leaped forward, making a last vain attempt to stop Anya. But he was too late.
Once more the gun went off, and this time there was a river of blood and a deathly silence.
Epilogue
Eighteen months later
The première of Blue Sapphire 2 was an all-out Hollywood affair. Klieg lights, the red carpet, a live Internet feed, TV crews from around the world, old-fashioned bleachers to accommodate the legions of fans, and a lavish party due to take place when the movie finished.
Natalie de Barge manned her post, interviewing a stream of celebrities, asking the usual inane questions about designers and hairstyles–but managing to throw in a zinger or two–because Natalie had no intention of remaining an entertainment reporter forever. Her ambition was to host her own TV show with three other smart women–kind of an L.A. version of The View.
Don Verona had promised that his production company would help her set it up, and why not–they were partners with Cole and Cameron in Paradise–the most successful sports club in L.A. Everyone was making money.
Natalie flattered the women, flirted with the men, smiled broadly and asked all the right questions. Like her brother, Natalie possessed the likeability factor, making the stars feel completely at ease in her presence.
She greeted Birdy Marvel with kisses all round. The sweet-faced baby diva–who suffered from a wicked sex addiction–babbled on about how tough her last stint in Rehab was, but now she’d found God, and was helping to feed starving children across the world, while working on her new CD, preparing a cross-country tour, and launching her own fragrance and clothing line.
“That’s so great,” Natalie said, moving Birdy on because she spied Lucy Lyons being shepherded toward her.
Lucy was the big star of the evening, for not only did she star in Blue Sapphire 2–her comeback movie–but she’d also been credited as an executive producer.
The movie, produced and written by Lucy’s husband, Oscar winner Phil Standard, was supposed to be hot, hot, hot. Co-produced by Hamilton J. Heckerling and co-written by a talented young newcomer–Marlon Robert–the word on the street was that Blue Sapphire 2 went places that even Basic Instinct hadn’t dared to go.
The two women greeted each other with the Hollywood kiss, a ritual involving lips never actually touching flesh.
“You look beautiful,” Natalie gushed. It was her job to go over the top, although she had to admit that at forty-two, with a couple of kids and a famously eccentric and randy husband, Lucy Lyons did indeed look great. Glowing, in fact, with her sweep of long black hair, generous lips and well-toned body.
“Tell me all about the movie,” Natalie urged. “I hear it’s quite something.”
“That it is,” Lucy said, with a big ‘I’m a movie star again’ smile. “Sooo sexy, and I only take my clothes off once. The real star of the movie,” she added generously, “is Mary Ellen Evans who plays my niece. Just wait until America gets a look at Mary Ellen taking it all off! She’s no longer the girl next door, she’s the girl that every man would like to–oops!” She stopped, placing a coy finger to her lips. “I almost said the F word on live TV!”
“Not to worry, we’ve heard worse,” Natalie said with an all-encompassing smile. “But back to the movie, Lucy. I hear that the two of you are wonderful. According to Variety you both give stellar performances.”
“Thanks, Natalie,” Lucy said modestly. “We tried our best.”
“I’m sure you did. Now–let’s talk about the important stuff–who are you wearing?”
Sitting in a rented limo on their way to the première was Lynda–eight and a half months’ pregnant–Carlos–the proud papa-to-be–although they still hadn’t gotten married–Dorian with a twenty-year-old male model, and Cole–alone and loving it. They were discussing the new premises Paradise had just acquired. Only Cole and Cameron had seen the space, and according to Cole it was spectacular, featuring lavish outdoor gardens, a full spa, and a lap pool.
“Pool aerobics, very now,” Dorian said, pursing his lips. “Can’t wait!”
“And I can’t wait to see this movie tonight,” Lynda sighed. “I’m so in the mood to watch me some steamy sex.”
“That’s about all you can do,” Carlos grumbled. “Watch.”
“Are you complaining?” Lynda said, brown eyes flashing as she patted her enormous stomach. “Cause this big bundle I’m carryin’ is your son, so snap it shut.”
“Okay, chicken,” Carlos said with a cocky smirk. “But the second you’ve laid this egg, this stud is expecting mucho action.”
“Oh God!” Dorian groaned. “Do we have to listen to baby talk all night? Where’s Cameron when I need her?”
“She had somethin’ more important to do,” Cole said.
“More important than a night out with us?” Dorian sniffed. “I don’t think so.”
Cole grinned. Sometimes he was the only one privy to Cameron’s secrets. And this could turn out to be a good one.
“Doesn’t she look gorgeous!” Natalie exclaimed, helping Mary Ellen Evans onto her platform in front of the TV camera. “I can’t believe that you had a baby seven months ago, then went on to star in this movie, and look at you now. You’re stunning!”
“Thank you, Natalie,” Mary Ellen said, basking in the spotlight.
“Your jewelry is sensational, and your gown. Who are you wearing?”
“Armani, of course.”
“Of course.” A beat, and then–“How’s the baby’s daddy? Is he still in the picture?”
Mary Ellen didn’t hesitate, she had her answer down pat. “Don Verona is a caring and hands-on father, but we’re not together anymore, although I have the utmost respect and love for him.”
“So tell me about your role in this movie,” Natalie said, moving on. “Lots of nudity, I hear. How did you really feel about taking it all off?”
“Don’t fidget,” Mandy scolded.
“I’m not fidgeting,” Marlon retorted.
“He’s not fidgeting,” Hamilton said.
The three of them sat in the back of Hamilton’s Bentley, while a chauffeur took care of the driving.
Mandy was excited. She knew Blue Sapphire 2 was going to be huge, and she stood to gain on two counts. Hamilton had promised her a piece of his profits as a reward for finally coming to her senses and divorcing Ryan.
And Marlon…well, Marlon was her prodigy–she’d discovered him.
Hmm…almost discovered him, for Lucy had gotten to him first–fortunately not in a sexual way. Mandy would never have accepted sloppy seconds.
Blue Sapphire 2 was all her idea. After their nightmare experience at the Standards’, Lucy had been on a downward spiral, and who could blame her? A girl getting shot and killed in their dining room was enough to put anyone in a slump.
Since it was Hamilton’s fifth wife who took a bullet from the deranged husband of Don’s girlfriend, Mandy had not been filled with total grief. Although it sure was one hell of a traumatic evening–what with finding out about Ryan’s affair and all.
Anyway, when Lucy told her about Marlon, the script, and the lost opportunity, Mandy had offered to show the script to her father as a gesture of friendship toward Lucy.
Reading Lucy’s script first, Mandy found it to be unoriginal, but the dialogue was brilliant, and that’s when she’d come up with the idea for Blue Sapphire 2–because Blue Sapphire had been one of Hamilton’s biggest movies.
Once Mandy suggested the project to her father, everything had fallen into place. Hamilton was not in mourning for his deceased wife. He had found out more than he ever wanted to know, and that was enough to make him erase Anya from his memory forever. He was determined to make Blue Sapphire 2 a mega-success. Lucy was thrilled, and since Phil was desperate to please his wife, he agreed to have Marlon write the script and he wo
uld do a polish. It was all systems go, and Mandy had suggested Mary Ellen for the role of the young nympho. Inspired casting.
The result was a movie that was destined to be another huge box-office hit, perhaps even bigger than the original.
It didn’t take long before Mandy embarked on a steamy affair with Marlon–even though he was almost thirteen years her junior.
Their age discrepancy didn’t bother her. In fact, it made her feel very fashionable and of the moment. After all, it seemed to work for Demi Moore and Ashton; Madonna and Guy; Susan Sarandon and Tim; and now Mandy Heckerling and Marlon.
As Marlon would say–sweet!
Don and Phil sneaked away from the red carpet and grabbed a drink in the manager’s office.
“I have to admit,” Phil said, exhibiting all the signs of an extremely proud husband, “Lucy is a marvelous talent. Wait until you see her in this. Y’know, Don, she was absolutely right about making a comeback.”
“And Mary Ellen?” Don asked. “How’s she in the movie?”
“Surprisingly good.” Phil took a long beat. “I presume you two are over?”
“We were never really on,” Don said, quite casual. “She’s nice enough, but she’s not for me.”
“You see the baby though?”
“All the time. She’s the most adorable little girl in the world. I’m in love!”
“Finally!”
“Hey–” Don said with a wry grin. “I’ve been in love before, but it never seems to work out. You and Lucy–what can I say? You’re one lucky sonofabitch.”
“And don’t I know it!”
And while the extravagant Blue Sapphire 2 première was taking place on Hollywood Boulevard, Ryan was having a screening of his latest film, the heart-wrenching story of a young Russian prostitute. Shot documentary-style, he considered it the best movie he’d ever made. Over the last eighteen months he’d immersed himself in the film, put his heart and soul into it–traveling across Europe and filming in many different locations.
His film was called Anya–in memory of a girl he’d never known very well. A girl who’d been hurt in more ways than anyone could imagine. A girl who’d finally met her fate in the dining room of a Hollywood mansion.
While filming, he’d forgotten about everything else. He’d instructed his lawyers to take care of his divorce and to give Mandy anything she wanted. He didn’t care about material possessions, he only cared about his work.
The actress he cast in his movie, Tamara Yakovlev, was a luminous brunette with unfathomable eyes and a lithe body. Born in St Petersburg, she’d come to America when she was ten with her affluent parents. Her story was the complete opposite of Anya’s, but somehow Tamara inhabited her spirit, and her acting was flawless. She became Anya.
They had a brief affair while filming in Poland. It didn’t last, she wasn’t the woman for him.
He often thought about Cameron. After that tragic evening at the Standards’, they had not been in touch. He’d cut himself off from everyone to concentrate on his movie. Along the way he’d heard that she was no longer with Don.
Now that he was back in L.A. he’d thought about calling her, but he hadn’t done so.
Perhaps he was romanticizing something that wasn’t real. Best to leave it alone.
Dropping Yoko and Lennon off at Mr Wasabi’s was kind of a ritual for Cameron. They liked him. He liked them. So even though she could afford a dogsitter, she preferred the familiar routine.
“Is it okay if they stay the night?” she asked Mr Wasabi.
The old man winked knowingly. He might be too old to indulge in adventures himself, but he certainly envied the man his incredibly beautiful and charming neighbor was spending the night with.
After depositing the dogs, she stopped back at her house, took a shower, applied a small amount of makeup, changed clothes about six times–eventually settling on jeans, combat boots, a simple tank–and her most expensive piece of clothing–a Dolce & Gabanna butter soft beige leather jacket. Finally satisfied, she left the house, got in her Mustang, and headed for the screening room in Santa Monica where she’d found out–purely by chance–that Ryan Richards was showing his movie.
Ryan Richards. A name from a while ago.
Ryan Richards. A man who to this day she had not stopped thinking about.
They had not been in contact since the fateful night Gregg had shot and killed Hamilton’s young wife. It was such a tragedy and sometimes Cameron was overcome with guilt about what had taken place, for basically she blamed herself.
If Gregg hadn’t come looking for her…
If she’d had the guts to fly to Hawaii and divorce him…If, if, if. Everyone told her it was inevitable, that Gregg was a psycho, but she knew she could have prevented it.
After the shooting the cops had stormed the house, and then it had all turned into pure chaos.
Don had wanted her to come home with him. She’d refused. She’d told him she needed space. Then several nights later she’d sat down with him and been as honest as she could. It was the break-up talk and he wasn’t happy.
“You lie to me, and I’m the one getting the shaft,” he’d steamed. “I don’t fucking believe this.”
“I’m sorry,” she’d said, genuinely regretful, because she did have feelings for him, but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t fit into your lifestyle, Don. It’s simply not for me.”
He was so angry that he’d blurted out that he was the silent investor in Paradise. He was the one who’d put up all the extra money to get it off the ground.
So be it. She wasn’t even mad, Gregg had left her shell-shocked.
“That’s okay,” she’d said. “I want us both to benefit from your investment.”
It had taken him a while, but eventually he’d accepted the fact that all she wanted from him was his friendship. His ego was bruised, but the great thing about Don was his self-deprecating sense of humor. They still saw each other occasionally, and he still kept on telling her she was making a mistake, but to Cameron’s delight, they were able to remain friends.
Gregg’s trial came months later. After two days of deliberation, the jury’s verdict was manslaughter. He received an eight-year jail sentence.
As soon as the trial was over, Cameron consulted a lawyer and started divorce proceedings. Six months later, she was free.
The gang at Paradise rallied around her, and once more work became her life. Until yesterday, when a young actress lifting weights with Cole had happened to mention that there was a screening of Ryan Richards’s movie tonight.
Cameron had blown off going to the première of Blue Sapphire 2 with Cole and the others. Instead she’d decided to take a chance. A big chance. A crazy insane chance.
Maybe this thing between her and Ryan was all in her imagination. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember her.
Slipping into the screening room after the movie started, she sat transfixed. Anya was a magnificent piece of work–understated, yet extraordinarily powerful.
The audience applauded at the end, and she noted a few people dabbing their eyes.
She looked around for Ryan, and finally spotted him. The beautiful star of his film had her arms around him, she was kissing and hugging him.
Cameron experienced an ache in the pit of her stomach. Of course he’d moved on, why wouldn’t he?
And just as she was contemplating a stealthy exit, a young man extracted the actress from Ryan, and the two of them walked off with their arms around each other.
Taking a long deep breath Cameron headed in Ryan’s direction. More people were surrounding him, shaking his hand, patting him on the back. Congratulations and accolades were thick on the ground.
She stood behind a large woman waiting her turn to tell him how meaningful his movie was.
And then he saw her.
For a tantalizing moment their eyes met, and she knew in her heart that nothing had changed. They both felt the same way.
“Hi,” she murmured softly.
&nbs
p; “Hey–you,” he responded.
“Loved your movie.”
“You did?”
“I did,” she said, noting that his eyes were still that intense blue that took her breath away.
“So,” he said, filled with optimism and delight, “how come it took you so long to find me?”
She smiled. A dreamy smile, a happy smile. “Just lazy, I guess.”
And he pulled her toward him, close, very close.
Somehow she knew this was the beginning of something very special.
Table of Contents
Praise
Also by Jackie Collins
Copyright
Dedication
Contents
ANYA
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
ANYA
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
ANYA
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
ANYA
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
ANYA
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
ANYA
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
ANYA
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Amsterdam
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
ANYA
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ANYA
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
ANYA
Married Lovers Page 37
