“What?” he said, picking up a slice of avocado.
“Lara’s bringing someone.”
His eyebrows shot up. “She is?”
“Yeah. Remember I told you about that guy she was kind of interested in—the actor I met, Joey Lorenzo? Well, apparently she’s more than interested.”
“How do you know?”
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to her, but Cassie called to say Lara wants to bring him tonight. Naturally I said it was okay.”
“Didn’t you mention to me that he was engaged?”
“Looks like he’s disengaged now.”
“I don’t get it,” Richard said, sourly. “Why would she hook up with some unknown actor?”
“Why not? Who else does she meet?”
“And she’s bringing him here tonight?” He shook his head. “Who’d believe this.”
“Believe it, honey. Your ex is venturing out on her own again.”
Richard opened the fridge and took out a bottle of white wine. “I’ll talk to her,” he said.
Nikki snorted derisively. “And tell her what? That she can’t get laid without your permission?”
He threw her a steely glare and marched out of the kitchen carrying the wine just as Summer entered, wide-eyed and smiling. “Mom!” she exclaimed, deliciously pretty in a pale pink sundress. “Something smells way good!”
“Thanks,” Nikki said, wondering what Summer wanted. A car? The house? Richard?
You’re not being very nice, she thought. Lighten up and try getting through to her.
“Nikki!” Richard yelled from the other room. “Pick up the phone. It’s Mick.”
Oh God! Don’t tell me he’s canceling, she thought, grabbing the phone.
“I got a big one to ask,” Mick mumbled. “A bigerooney.”
“Go ahead.”
“It’s real important to me.”
“What is it?” she asked impatiently.
“Aiden’s goin’ through a bad time. He’s livin’ in a rented dump—got no friends.”
“Are you asking if you can bring him?” she said with an exasperated sigh, knowing she’d regret it.
“That’s the deal.”
“Eight o’clock. Casual.” She slammed down the phone. “Wanda!” she yelled. “Set another place.”
“Is it okay if I stay for dinner?” Summer asked, bright blue eyes shining as she danced around the kitchen. She’d overheard the conversation and couldn’t believe her luck.
Nikki couldn’t help herself. “How come you’re not going out?”
“What—and miss your yummy cooking?” Summer replied, dipping her fingers into the salad and plucking out a small red tomato.
What could she say to her daughter? I’m expecting guests, you can’t stay. “It’s actually a business dinner,” she said lamely.
“Richard said Lara’s coming. I like, love Lara—haven’t seen her in ages.”
“It’s not only Lara,” Nikki said quickly. “We’re also having my director, Mick Stefan. There’ll be a lot of shoptalk. You’ll be bored.”
“Don’t you want me to stay home, Mom?” Summer asked accusingly.
No. This was the one dinner she didn’t want Summer to attend. “Of course I do,” she said, feeling the old, familiar guilt. Turning to the maid she said brusquely, “Wanda, set one more place, we’re growing by the minute.”
“Thanks, Mom!” Summer exclaimed, racing out of the kitchen.
Nikki made a mental note to check with Sheldon as soon as possible. If Summer was serious about staying, then maybe she’d give her a chance. Perhaps there was hope for them after all.
• •
Summer rushed into her room. Mick Stefan coming to the house was the best! She’d never told him who she was. He’d freak when he spotted her! But the big news was Aiden Sean. The babe himself. She couldn’t be more excited.
What to wear, that was the problem. Something so sexy he’d be unable to resist her. Yeah! Tonight was the night!
• •
Lara sat in front of her dressing table, adding the finishing touches to her makeup, thinking how good it was to be home.
Yesterday, as soon as they’d arrived at the house, she’d instructed Mr. and Mrs. Crenshaw, the elderly Scottish couple who worked for her, to set up the guest room for Joey. Mrs. Crenshaw had nodded, slyly checking Joey out, which made Lara smile. The Crenshaws, like everyone else, were very protective of her.
Once Joey was settled, he’d begun exploring her house. “Jeez! This is some place,” he’d exclaimed, roaming around. “I didn’t realize you lived like this.”
“It’s where I spend all my time when I’m not working,” she’d explained. “I’ve tried to make it as comfortable as possible.”
“You sure did a good job.”
He was like a kid let loose in Disneyland, fiddling with the stereo system, checking out the many televisions, playing ball with the dogs, and when he discovered she had a gym, he was in heaven.
In the evening they’d had a quiet dinner together, outside in the garden. Later she’d waited for him to make a move. Disappointingly, he hadn’t. He’d kissed her chastely on the cheek, remarked that they were both exhausted and vanished into the guest room.
She was confused. One moment he was her lover, the next merely a house guest.
She’d lain in bed, unable to sleep, thinking about him. But he hadn’t come to her, and she was too proud to go to him. One thing about Joey, he certainly didn’t believe in pushing it.
They’d both gotten up early and met in the kitchen. After breakfast she’d taken him down to the stables to see her horses. “Can you ride?” she’d asked.
“I can try,” he’d said.
Mr. Wicker, the man who ran her stables, had chosen a horse for Joey to take out. He’d mounted it without faltering, and they’d set off. He was a natural.
“Unbelievable!” she’d exclaimed. “I’ve been riding for years, and you simply climb on a horse and get it immediately.”
“I can do anythin’ I set my mind to,” he’d boasted, grinning. “Anythin’.”
They’d lunched by the swimming pool and spent a relaxing day, thanks to Joey, who’d insisted she cancel all her appointments. “C’mon, Lara,” he’d said. “You deserve one day to yourself.”
Cassie was not pleased as she sat in her small office, attempting to rearrange the already overcrowded schedule.
Later, as Lara was getting ready for dinner at Richard and Nikki’s, she wondered what Richard’s reaction would be to Joey. Sometimes her ex-husband was too possessive. It would do him good to see her with another man.
Joey knocked and wandered into the room, looking very handsome in a black silk T-shirt, Armani jacket and black pants, a thin lizard-skin belt encircling his narrow waist. He’d taken his outfit from the film—too bad if they didn’t want him to have it.
“I’m glad you’re meeting Mick this way,” she said, adding a touch of blush to her high cheekbones. “Better than going in for an interview. I promise I’ll ask him if there’s anything in the movie for you.”
“Don’t ask—tell,” he said, picking up a Lalique perfume bottle and sniffing the scent.
“I can’t force them to do anything,” she said, standing up and reaching for her purse.
“They can’t force you, either,” he reminded her, unexpectedly plunging his hand down the front of her blouse, enclosing her left breast, tweaking her nipple.
She gasped, taken by surprise.
“We’d better go,” he said, removing his hand.
All she really wanted to do was stay home and make love. Instead she followed Joey from the room.
Outside in the garage, he walked around inspecting her cars. She had a gray Range Rover, a sleek gold Jaguar XKJ and a black Mercedes with dark tinted windows.
“Three cars?” he said, grinning. “Lady—I like your style.”
“Which one shall we take tonight?” she asked.
“The Jag,” he answer
ed quickly. “I’ll drive.”
He opened the door for her, and she got into the passenger seat. “Do you have a car, Joey?”
“In New York? No way. Soon as I know what I’m doin’, I’ll lease somethin’ here.”
It occurred to her that if he didn’t get a part in Revenge he might have to go back to New York, and then when would she see him?
Stop it, she told herself sternly. This is no big romance, it’s a fling. Short and sweet.
Or is it?
Maybe Joey’s the man I’ve been waiting for. The man who s going to make a difference in my life.
No more lonely nights.
No more sickening nightmares.
She could only wish.
• •
So now her cozy little dinner for three was seven. Great! Nikki thought.
Two actors who would probably hate each other; two directors who couldn’t be more different. A beautiful movie star, a difficult teenager and herself. What a group! And on top of everything else, Richard had started drinking too much again—which wasn’t a problem unless he took it too far. And from the look in his eyes she knew that tonight he’d definitely take it too far. He’d already consumed half a bottle of wine and was now on to martinis.
She put the CD player on shuffle—a selection of Sting, Jamiroquai and Jewel. Then she sampled one of Juan’s lethal margaritas. She’d sent for Juan at the last minute, to help out at the bar. One quick inspection and she wished she hadn’t. Juan, who was Wanda’s son, had the look of a juvenile Antonio Banderas, with his slicked-back jet hair, bedroom eyes and cocky attitude. Last time she’d seen him he’d been a boy. Now he was eighteen, and she shuddered to think what would happen when he set his horny eyes on Summer.
“Your son’s certainly grown up in a short time,” she remarked to Wanda as they stood in the kitchen.
“Juan’s a good boy,” Wanda said, beaming proudly. “He no get involved with gangs. He wanna be singer.”
“A singer, huh?” Nikki said, checking on the chicken roasting away in the oven.
“Big talent,” Wanda said. “Mebbe you and the mister wanna hear?”
“Another time,” Nikki said quickly. Right now she had an evening to get through.
Running into Maxwell von Steuben did not help my career one bit. In fact, true to his word, the sonofabitch tried to have me blacklisted.
Here’s what he didn’t think of. He didn’t think I could change my name, and that’s exactly what I did. All of a sudden I was a new guy in town, and as long as I avoided going on any auditions where Maxwell might be, I was safe. The dumb shit was blacklisting someone who didn’t exist anymore.
Soon after the incident with Maxwell, I dumped Margie. Had to. She gave boring a whole new meaning. My dreams of a little house in the Valley with a couple of kids—vanished. Who gave a damn? There were too many women out there who needed my attention. Too many babes who had the money to pay for it.
Changing my name was an ace move. As far as my career was concerned, it changed my luck, too. After a few months, I landed the lead in a late-night TV action show. Kind of soft-core porn on cable, but it sure made me feel like a king. All of a sudden people were bowing and scraping, running to take care of my every command. There’s nothing like being the star, however bad the show. And I even got to direct a couple of episodes—a real kick.
My costar was a nervous blonde who’d done time around the track several times and then some. Once she’d been a contender, only she’d never quite got to the top. Now she was doing shit shows like mine, and lucky to get the job, because she’d never see thirty-five again. And for a woman over thirty in Hollywood—unless you ’ve already made it—it’s finito.
Her name was Hadley. She had long legs and a voracious sexual appetite. I wouldn’t fuck her; didn’t want to mix business with pleasure. This drove her totally crazy, causing her to do everything in her power to turn me on. She came to my trailer wearing nothing but a mink coat, bought for her by her gangster boyfriend, paraded around the makeup room in stiletto heels and Frederick’s of Hollywood lingerie and sent me outrageous gifts from a sex shop she frequented.
I didn’t fall for her act. I was finally getting smart. But one day she pushed my buttons. We were shooting a night scene in Culver City, and she picked up one of the extras—an outrageously sexy black girl—and one thing led to another, and the three of us ended up in Hadley’s trailer, bombed out of our skulls on straight tequila and very fine Mexican grass.
From what I can remember I must have fucked her and not gone back for more, because shortly after, she managed to get me fired. Bitch!
What the hell—I found myself a new agent and started doing the rounds again. An Australian company was making a series of low-budget action movies for Asia. They wanted an American actor, and they discovered me. I was into a little kick boxing, and with the help of a coach I soon honed the skill.
All of a sudden, I was a half-assed star in Asia. Big fucking deal. I went there for a promo trip, and spent the majority of the time getting laid and drugged out of my head. Asian drugs—man, they are something else!
By the time I got back to the States I had myself a habit that wouldn’t quit.
Truth was, I was well and truly hooked.
CHAPTER
34
LARA AND JOEY ARRIVED FIRST. Nikki took one look at her glowing countenance and didn’t have to ask—they were definitely in bed together. And who could blame her? Joey Lorenzo was one of the best-looking men around.
She hugged Lara, said a cordial hello to Joey, then led them out to the deck where, much to Nikki’s annoyance, Richard was on his third vodka martini.
He immediately jumped to his feet when he saw Lara, enveloping her in a loving embrace. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart,” he said warmly. “I’ve really missed you.”
“You too, Richard,” she said, extracting herself from his arms. She hesitated a moment, not quite sure how to introduce Joey. “Say hello to my, uh . . . friend . . . Joey Lorenzo.”
Joey stepped forward, anxious to check out the ex-husband. “Mr. Barry, it’s a real pleasure, sir.”
The “sir” hung in the air like a dirty word. Nikki stifled a nervous giggle; Richard’s annoyance was palpable. “Let’s not be so formal,” she said, hurriedly taking Joey’s arm and steering him over to the small bar. “I’m Nikki, he’s Richard. What would you like to drink?”
“A beer’ll do it,” Joey said, remembering that apart from being Lara’s best friend, Nikki was also the producer of Revenge, therefore he’d best be nice to her.
“One beer,” Nikki instructed Juan. “And Lara—what can we get you?”
“Champagne,” Lara replied, completely incapable of wiping the dreamy smile off her face.
“Mick’s on his way,” Nikki explained. “He’s bringing Aiden Sean, so you get to meet them both at once.” She noticed Joey reaching for Lara’s hand. This was love all right, she’d never seen Lara in such a trancelike state.
“So, you’re an actor,” Richard boomed, joining them at the bar. “What have you done?”
Lara laughed lightly. “Now, now, Richard, Joey doesn’t travel armed with his résumé.”
“Maybe he should,” Richard said nastily.
“Yeah, why’s that?” Joey asked, challenging the older’ man with a long, hard look. He wasn’t about to take shit from anyone.
Fortunately, Mick chose that moment to make his entrance. True to his word, he’d worn a tie—decorated with a nude Marilyn Monroe. He also wore an ill-fitting sixties-style white tuxedo, baggy pants, a frayed shirt and a goofy grin.
Aiden Sean shuffled in behind him, low-key in khakis and sinister, impenetrable shades.
“Welcome to our home,” Nikki said graciously. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“I bet you are!” muttered Aiden.
She pretended she hadn’t heard as she effected introductions.
Joey checked out Mick and Aiden. A couple of big-time losers wh
o’d struck it lucky. Shit! Why wasn’t he directing movies and starring in them? He probably had more talent in his dick than these two had between them. And Lara—his Lara—was putting herself in their hands; it didn’t make sense. He nudged her. “This is the boy wonder?” he whispered rudely. “What a jerk!”
“Be nice,” she whispered back. “Don’t judge him on his appearance.”
Why the fuck not? he wanted to say. But he remained silent. He’d learned at an early age that the smart thing was to find out everyone’s deal and then speak up.
“Lara,” Mick said, gulping down a frozen margarita as if it were lemonade. “Gotta tell ya—I’m totally psyched you’re doing my movie.”
Nikki caught the “my movie” and didn’t like it one bit. Since when was it his movie?
“Nikki’s developed an excellent script,” Lara replied, dazzling him with a smile. “How could I resist?”
“I got a lotta new ideas,” Mick said enthusiastically. “Lotta bigeroonies.”
“Great,” she replied, “I’m always open to suggestions—if they’re good.”
That put Mister Big Shot Stefan in his place. Joey was proud of her, she knew how to handle herself around jerks. Not that he’d ever doubted her.
Aiden Sean hadn’t said a word. After ordering a Jack Daniel’s on the rocks, he’d slumped down in a lounge chair as far away from everyone as he could get.
Nikki contemplated going over, playing the polite hostess. Then she thought, Why should I? He’s the uninvited guest, let him put himself out.
Summer timed her entrance to be five minutes before dinner. She sauntered outside, barefoot, in sprayed-on denim cutoffs and a midriff-baring top. Her long, white-blond hair was freshly washed, framing her pretty face. “Hi everyone,” she said, innocence personified. “Gee, Mom—dinner smells good enough to eat!”
“Holy shit!” Mick exclaimed, his voice cracking.
“Meet my daughter,” Nikki said, hoping he wasn’t into teenagers. “Everyone—this is Summer.”
“Your daughter?” Mick croaked, arms flailing wildly.
“Yes,” Nikki said, noticing that Juan was standing to attention, completely mesmerized by Summer. Fortunately she hadn’t spotted him yet. With a little luck it would stay that way.
Thrill Page 22
