Hollywood Wives--The New Generation

by Jackie Collins

  “Where is that child of ours?” Kyndra murmured to her husband. “She promised to be here early.”

  “When did you speak to her?” Norio asked, adjusting his onyx-and-diamond cufflinks, an anniversary gift from his wife.

  “A few days ago.”

  “Knowing Saffron, she’s probably forgotten.”

  “And she’s supposed to be bringing Lulu.”

  “Good. We don’t see enough of our grandchild.”

  “Now, Norio, please remember—no pictures of me with Lulu. I have a certain image to preserve.”

  “Of course, darling,” he said, smiling. He knew his wife, and as much as she adored Lulu, she had a thing about not being labeled Grandma—even though she was in excellent company, including grandparents Mick Jagger, Whoopi Goldberg, and Jack Nicholson.

  Larry Singer walked in alone.

  Kyndra greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks. “Where’s Taylor?” she asked.

  “Working,” he replied, feeling quite lost without his wife beside him.

  “Oh, yes,” Kyndra said. “I heard she’s shooting a movie with Montana Gray.”

  “I didn’t know it was Montana’s film,” Larry said, surprised that Taylor hadn’t mentioned the name of her director.

  “You’d better watch out,” Kyndra said with a wily smile. “You know what a feminist Montana is. Before you know it, Taylor will be runnin’ your ass!”

  “Not even remotely funny, Kyndra,” he said stiffly.

  “Happy anniversary, Larry.”

  “It’s not my anniversary.”

  “Sure it is,” she teased. “It’s the anniversary of your wife becoming a major feminist!”

  Larry was unamused. He didn’t enjoy attending these big social events at the best of times. And he certainly didn’t need Kyndra making cracks at his experience.

  As soon as they realized he was present, people began coming over to him. He felt vulnerable and trapped, and there was nothing he could do about it because he had no Taylor by his side to protect him from the onslaught of would-be dealmakers who all wanted something from Larry Singer.

  Slowly he managed to edge his way into a corner, finally spotting Lissa Roman, whom he quickly waved over. Lissa was his favorite of all Taylor’s friends. Not only was she beautiful and talented, she had a certain sweetness about her, in spite of her sometimes raunchy public image.

  “You look lovely,” he said.

  “Thanks, Larry,” she replied, glancing around. “Where’s Taylor?”

  “Haven’t you spoken to her?”

  “We’ve been missing each other.”

  “She’s shooting a movie.”

  “Your movie?” Lissa asked.

  “No, a cable film.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that she’d finally gotten her movie off the ground.”

  “It hasn’t happened yet,” Larry said.

  “That’s a pity, I know how much it means to her.”

  Larry was silent for a moment. The previous evening he’d been asleep when Taylor had finally come home. When he’d awoken in the morning, she’d already left for the studio. He’d wanted to tell her that he’d hired a new writer for her project, and that if she wanted him to, he’d put his name on as executive producer. Better she should be starring in her own film rather than making a lesbian-themed cable movie. And now that he’d heard Montana Gray was the director, he was less than pleased.

  “Are you okay, Larry?” Lissa asked.

  “Yes, why?”

  “You seem a little lost in thought.”

  “More important, how are you?” he asked. “I was sorry to hear about you and Gregg. Are you coping okay?”

  “You know what it’s like when you’re tabloid headlines,” she said ruefully.

  “Yes, I’m afraid I do,” he replied, remembering his very public divorce from his first wife.

  “It’s so embarrassing to have one’s soon-to-be ex mouthing off all over TV and the tabloids,” Lissa confided.

  “Everyone says they don’t read those papers,” Larry remarked.

  “I know,” Lissa agreed. “They claim they glance at them while they’re standing in line at the supermarket.”

  “As if any of these women stand in line at a supermarket,” Larry said.

  Stella and Seth joined them, both balancing martinis.

  “My God!” Stella exclaimed, pert and pretty in a red Valentino dress. “We were sitting in our car for twenty minutes.”

  “So were we,” Lissa said.

  “Who’s we?” Stella asked, curious as usual.

  “I came with James and Claude.”

  “Good move,” Stella said, adding an irreverent, “Safety in fags.”

  “Don’t be rude. You know James hates that word.”

  “I tell it like it is,” Stella said, surveying the room. “Can you believe this turnout? I’ve already bumped into Luther Vandross, Stevie Wonder, and Gladys Knight—this is like an old-time soul reunion.”

  “Norio has been a successful producer in the music business for years,” Larry pointed out.

  “Yes, and Kyndra is a major diva,” Lissa added.

  “I always get a kick out of the music business crowd,” Stella said. “I’m thinking of using a B.B. King track on our next project. Soundtracks are so important today. Did you know that you can launch a movie with the soundtrack alone? That’s if you do the right marketing on the Internet.”

  “You can’t possibly believe that,” said Seth, a wiry-haired man, with cordial features and ruddy cheeks.

  “Yes, I can.”

  “You and your ideas,” he said. “There was a time when we made movies and the story alone brought people into the theater. Right, Larry?”

  “Don’t be so old-fashioned, darling,” Stella chided. “Listen to me, you know I’m always right.”

  “The women are taking over, Larry,” Seth said warningly. “We’d better watch out.”

  Larry nodded his head in agreement.

  A silicone blonde walked by, her large boobs barely covered by a few strategically placed stuck-on sequins.

  “I do so love rock ’n’ roll parties,” Stella said, staring at the girl. “And judging by the way your eyes are bulging out of your heads, you guys love it too.”

  “What?” Larry said, he honestly hadn’t noticed the girl.

  Seth nudged him. “She’s referring to the almost-naked blonde.”

  “Who?” Larry said, wondering when his wife would arrive.

  Seth burst out laughing. “Larry,” he said, “you truly are an original!”

  •

  “COOL,” Saffron said, parading in front of the mirror. She’d raided Nicci’s closet and come up with a black leather jumpsuit that fit her perfectly. Fortunately, they were more or less the same size.

  “Mommy pretty,” Lulu said, tilting her head to one side and inspecting her mother.

  “You’re always pretty, angel peaches,” Saffron said, scooping her daughter up and giving her a big kiss. “Now it’s Mommy’s turn.”

  Nicci had decided to wear her red Azzedine Alaïa dress again, and her Jimmy Choo heels. Her power outfit. Not that it had done her much good at their ill-fated dinner party.

  “Hot look, babe,” Saffron said admiringly.

  “Yeah, hot and hungover,” Nicci answered wryly.

  “Pretty, pretty,” Lulu repeated, jumping up and down. “Everybum pretty!”

  “Will you be quiet,” Saffron scolded. “You’re startin’ to sound like a parrot.”

  “Mommy’s a parrot, Mommy’s a parrot,” Lulu chanted.

  “Shush,” Saffron said. “Nicci’s got a big, bad headache. We mustn’t make it worse.”

  “Baaad!” Lulu giggled.

  “Come on,” Saffron said, picking Lulu up and taking her into the bedroom. “I’m putting you in front of the TV until we go.”

  “You know,” Nicci said, when Saffron returned. “I’m a very good friend.”

  “You are?” Saffron said
, clipping on large gold hoop earrings.

  “Yes, ’cause I’m going with you tonight, when I’d so prefer to lie down and quietly die.”

  “Aren’t we the dramatic one,” Saffron said, admiring herself in the mirror again. “Where did you go last night that you’ve got this amazing hangover?”

  “To a rave.”

  “A rave?” Saffron shrieked. “Girl, you haven’t done that since you an’ Evan got together. Who’d you go with?” “The bad-boy brother.”

  “Oh, wow!” Saffron exclaimed. “Didja get it on?”

  “That’s just it,” Nicci said glumly. “I feel like one of those Doris Day movies you see on late night TV. Did we or didn’t we? I have no freakin’ clue. I only know I woke up in his bed this morning totally bare assed.”

  “No shit?”

  “It’s true.”

  “You gotta know if you screwed him.”

  “He can’t remember either. We were so wasted—what with the booze and drugs and God knows what else.”

  “I’m proud of you, girl!” Saffron said with a wide grin. “The old spirit lives! An’ I thought I’d lost you.”

  “I’m engaged, Saff,” Nicci said miserably. “Don’t you get it?”

  “Yeah, I get it,” Saffron said. “You’re engaged, not dead.”

  “Evan’s a great guy, except . . . there’s one small problem.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “According to Brian, Evan was engaged to someone else before me.”

  “How’s that a problem?”

  “ ’Cause it is,” Nicci said. “When you’re engaged to someone, they’re supposed to share that kind of information with you. That’s the stuff you have to talk about.”

  “Get real, Nic. You didn’t think he was a virgin, did you?”

  “Getting laid and getting engaged are two different things. I told him everything about me.”

  “You did?” Saffron teased. “And he still wants to marry you?”

  Nicci couldn’t help giggling. “Well . . . not quite everything.”

  “Hey—maybe it’s cool.”

  “What’s cool?”

  “Hangin’ with the brother,” Saffron said. “You’re gettin’ married, girl. You gotta let it loose before you do it.”

  “This is a lot more than getting loose, Saff,” Nicci said miserably. “I might’ve slept with his brother.”

  “Oh yeah, I can see where that would be kinda upsetting.”

  “Kind of upsetting?”

  “Let’s go party. An’ I promise, when we get back I’ll stay up with you all night talking. Deal?”

  •

  “ANYONE FOR SECOND HELPINGS?” Carol asked. There was an anxious air about her, as if she was frightened everyone would get up and leave before she had time to offer them dessert.

  “Give me more food an’ I’ll bust right outta my clothes,” Amber said, smoothing down her skirt.

  “Nothing like a satisfied customer,” Carol said, with a grateful smile. “How about you, Michael? Interested in seconds?”

  “No thanks, Carol,” he said, feeling uncomfortably full. “It was good, you’re quite a cook.”

  “Thanks,” she said, glancing around at her guests. “What did I do to deserve all this praise?”

  “Everything, honey,” Amber said warmly. “If I was a guy, I’d think you were the perfect woman.” She threw Michael a penetrating look. “Right, Michael?”

  He wanted to take a piece of duct tape and stick it right across her mouth. Amber was getting on his nerves big time.

  “What’s for dessert?” Quincy asked, patting his extended stomach.

  “Everyone’s favorite,” Carol announced. “Peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream, nuts, and caramel sauce.”

  “You’re my kinda woman,” Quincy sighed. “Michael, you’re a lucky man.”

  Michael had a strong feeling he was being set up and he didn’t like it.

  He wondered what Lissa was doing. Was she thinking about him? Because he sure as hell couldn’t stop thinking about her. The way she looked. The way she smiled. Her blue eyes. Her luscious lips.

  Carol went back into the kitchen, closely followed by Amber.

  “Will you stop setting me up?” Michael hissed, glaring at Quincy. “For your information I’m giving her the speech tonight.”

  “Oh fuck!” Quincy said. “After she’s cooked you this meal, you’re givin’ her the speech?”

  “She’s taking things too seriously.”

  “You can’t do it tonight, man.”

  “Why not?”

  “ ’Cause you gotta give it to her right after you’ve taken her out for a fine dinner, not when she’s been slavin’ away in the kitchen all day. Doncha know anythin’ about women?”

  “I have to do it,” Michael insisted. “It’s only fair to both of us.”

  “Not tonight,” Quincy repeated. “Be a gentleman about this. I’m tellin’ you, take her out to dinner, an’ let her down easily.”

  “Jeez!” Michael complained. “I never thought the day would come when I’d be getting lessons on how to handle a woman from you.”

  “I’m married,” Quincy said with a self-satisfied smirk. “I know what I’m talkin’ about.”

  “Like hell you do.”

  And then it occurred to Michael that Quincy was right. How could he eat her food, accept her hospitality, and then dump her?

  No, he couldn’t do it tonight, it would have to wait until he got back from Vegas.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  * * *

  LISSA MANAGED to look like she was having a good time, although she was quite sure everyone was talking about her behind her back.

  “You’re paranoid,” James said.

  “I’m not,” she retorted.

  “Surely you understand that all the women here would give their fake boobs to be you?” James informed her.

  “Not this week,” she said ruefully.

  “Do not underestimate yourself,” James said sternly. “Your talent overcomes everything. Now that you’re rid of Gregg, your full potential will come to the fore.”

  “I thought my full potential already did,” she said with a wry grin. “I’m forty years old, James. I’ve probably had my best years.”

  “Pu-lease,” James said scornfully. “Look at Madonna, she’s still dancing around the stage like a teenager, and she’s older than you. Did you see her at the Grammys? The woman’s amazing, and so are you.”

  “She doesn’t have a nineteen-year-old daughter and four ex-husbands. She has a talented, smart English guy, who makes stylish, entertaining movies, and two adorable little kids.”

  “What has that got to do with anything?” James said. “I’m so tired of you denigrating yourself. Now stop it, or I’ll get cross. Come, it’s time for dinner, and I do believe we’re at the head table.”

  •

  SAFFRON ENTERED the party with Lulu balanced on one hip and Nicci by her side. She headed straight for her father.

  “How’s my two favorite girls?” Norio exclaimed, grabbing Lulu, throwing her up in the air and catching her with a big hug. “We thought you’d gotten lost.”

  “Hi, Daddy,” Saffron said, kissing him on both cheeks as Lulu screamed with delight. “We almost did.”

  “And hello there, Nicci,” Norio said. “How’s my favorite other daughter?”

  “Cool, thanks,” she said, adding a mischievous, “Did you and Lissa ever have an affair?”

  “Your mother never gave me a second glance,” Norio said regretfully. “Although I always harbored a secret passion for her.”

  “Daddy!” Saffron exclaimed. “If Kyndra ever heard you say that, she’d have your balls for breakfast.”

  Norio rolled his expressive, heavy-lidded eyes. “My daughter, the mouth.”

  “Oh, c’mon, you’re in the music business, you’ve heard it all before.”

  He laughed heartily. “Go have a good time, girls. I’ll keep Lulu, it’ll give m
e an opportunity to play the proud grandfather.”

  “Let’s go get a drink,” Saffron said, grabbing Nicci’s hand. “It’s what we both need desperately.”

  •

  TAYLOR WAS STILL in a state of excitement. Working with Montana Gray was indeed an experience. And performing a love scene with Sonja Lucerne even more so. She was in awe of both women, they were mistresses of their craft.

  The crew was great, too, because Taylor had to admit that the thought of taking her clothes off in front of a full crew had been terrifying. Sure, she’d done it when she was younger, but that was before she was Mrs. Larry Singer. Now everyone would be looking at her in a different way.

  However, the scene had taken place without incident. And in a way Taylor found that being in bed with a woman was easier than making love to a man in front of the camera.

  She’d never experienced a lesbian lover, so at first she’d not known how she’d handle the difficult scene. But Sonja was so gentle and firm, so loving and tender, that suddenly Taylor had found herself wondering what would it be like to have an affair with a woman.

  She’d smiled to herself. If Larry only knew what she was thinking.

  At the end of the day’s shoot, Montana knocked at the door and entered her trailer. “You were excellent, Taylor,” she said enthusiastically. “You gave of yourself one hundred percent, became your character all the way. I thought you could do it, although I wasn’t absolutely sure. Now I’m so happy I made the right decision.”

  “Thank you, Montana. That means so much to me,” Taylor said, thrilled at the lavish praise.

  “Perhaps you can explain to me why Larry has kept you under wraps?” Montana inquired. “How come you’re not working in his movies?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” Taylor said, liking Montana more and more.

  “Hmm . . .” Montana mused. “I remember Larry as being somewhat insecure and possessive. When Neil worked with him, he was still with his first wife. She used to complain about him constantly.”

  “She did?” Taylor said, surprised.

  “Yes. She used to bitch that he couldn’t get it up and was extraordinarily needy. I’m sure I’m not repeating anything you don’t already know.”

  “His ex and I weren’t exactly friends,” Taylor explained, remembering how much Susan had hated her. “After all, I was the cause of his divorce.”