If his mother ever got an eyeful of Abbey Christian, she’d throw a fit. Abbey was a total raving nymphomaniac.
“Once you’ve told her, you can come stay at my beach house for a few days,” Abbey decided. “You don’t want to be around while she packs up and gets out.”
“I have to go back to my house,” he said. “My mother’s there.”
“What’s she doing in your house?” Abbey asked rudely.
“She flew out for the wedding.”
“Well, send her back to where she came from,” Abbey snapped, used to getting her own way.
“I can’t send my mother back,” he objected. “I haven’t told her the wedding’s off.”
“Then fucking tell her,” Abbey said, walking into the bathroom. “Or I will.”
“No, Abbey. I’ll do it myself.”
They were leaving the Utah location tomorrow, and after that they had six weeks of shooting in L.A. Six long weeks, and he’d better string Abbey along until then, otherwise she’d cause chaos, and he couldn’t risk any delays on the movie.
What to do about Nicci, that was the problem. He might have to postpone the wedding. Yes, to save the film he might just have to do that.
In the meantime, he might as well take advantage of the phenomenal sex.
•
“HI-BRIAN?”
“Yeah?” he said, picking up the phone. “Who’s this?”
“Saffron. Nicci’s friend.”
“Oh, hi,” he said, wondering what she wanted.
“Remember, we met at the dinner party up at your brother’s house?”
“ ’Course I do. Why aren’t you out with Nicci? Isn’t this your big celebration night?”
“That’s why I’m calling. I thought Nicci might be with you.”
“Why would she be with me? She’s been carrying on about her bachelorette party all week.”
“That’s what I don’t get,” Saffron said, sounding puzzled. “I’m at the house now and she isn’t here.”
“What do you mean, she isn’t there? I dropped her off late this afternoon.”
“You did?”
“Yeah,” Brian said. “She was all excited.”
“She’s not here now. I went around the back and let myself in. Found her purse.”
“So?”
“Nicci never moves without her purse. And it was lying on the floor by the front door.” A beat. “Brian, I kinda got this premonition that something bad has happened.”
“No way.”
“Then where is she?”
He thought for a moment, remembering their conversation about Evan. “She might’ve gotten on a plane and gone to see Evan.”
“You think?”
“That could be it,” he said. “She was upset about some shit between them.”
“Can you check it out?” Saffron asked. “ ’Cause this isn’t like Nicci, she wouldn’t hang me up.”
“I’ll call Evan right now and get back to you.”
“Thanks. I’ll be waitin’.”
•
“SO,” LISSA SAID. “What was it you wanted to tell me this morning, Michael?”
They were lying in bed, comfortable and relaxed. Not only had they made love in the elevator, but they’d also made out in the living room and the bedroom. Now they were sharing a huge dish of vanilla ice cream with strawberries and chocolate sauce on the side.
“There is something I need to tell you,” he said, loath to break the mood. “It’s something that happened before us, if there is such a thing as us.”
“Of course there is,” she said, dipping a strawberry in the chocolate sauce and feeding it to him. “Whatever you might think, this is not a weekend fling.”
“I hope not,” he said. “Although watching you tonight, I couldn’t help thinking how far apart we are.”
“Far apart how?”
“Everything.”
“Hmm . . .” she said, reaching for another strawberry. “Do you enjoy going to movies?”
“Yeah.”
“Watching ball games?”
“I’m a big Lakers fan.”
“What kind of music are you into?”
“I’m easy.”
“You see,” she said triumphantly. “We’re totally compatible. Occasionally I have to work, the rest of the time I’m completely there for you, doing all the things you like to do.”
“You’re a sweetheart,” he said.
“I’m not such a sweetheart. I’m just happy I found you.”
“You found me, did you?” he said, raising a cynical eyebrow.
She smiled. “Sorta. Kinda.”
“Anyway,” he said, wanting to get the bad news over with. “D’you remember I mentioned I was about to give someone the breakup speech?”
“Yes,” she said, dipping her finger in the chocolate sauce.
“Well, here’s the deal—just as I was getting ready to tell her that we were definitely over, she suddenly informs me she’s pregnant.”
“Pregnant,” Lissa repeated dully. This was the last thing she’d expected to hear.
“It’s mine,” he said. “I’ll take a blood test, of course, but I know it’s mine.”
She was silent for a moment, filled with mixed feelings. Why did this have to happen now? Why couldn’t anything go smoothly. “What will you do?” she asked.
“Carol doesn’t want anything from me, not even financial support, although I will support the baby,” he said, reaching for a cigarette. “Do you mind if I smoke?”
“Go ahead, poison yourself.”
“You see,” he said seriously. “Carol and I are over, so it’s not a problem, is it?”
“Depends what you regard as a problem,” she said coolly, trying to figure out how she really felt.
He stared at her intently. “I had to be up front with you, Lissa, didn’t I? No secrets.”
“I appreciate your honesty,” she said. “And I know it’s not an easy situation for you, especially in view of what happened before with Bella.”
“Right,” he said, lighting up. “But being here with you has made things so much better.”
“I’m glad,” she said softly. “Because I have a feeling you and I were meant to be.”
“Yeah?” he said, trying not to blow smoke in her direction.
“Yes,” she said. “But if we’re going to keep seeing each other, we can’t keep it under wraps. We have to be out in the open.”
“I got a hunch you’re not a hot-dog-and-movie kind of girl,” he said. “Too many people bugging you for your autograph.”
“I think you’re forgetting.”
“What?”
She couldn’t help smiling. “My famous disguise.”
“Oh,” he said, grinning. “That’ll be a kick, going out with you in your wig and glasses. I can just see me taking you over to Quincy’s and saying, ‘Hey—meet my new girlfriend. She’s a little strange.’ ”
Lissa started to laugh. “There will be problems,” she warned. “However, I think we’ve got a lot going for us.”
“I dunno,” he said uncertainly. “You’re famous, you live in a different world from mine. And now there’s this baby thing.”
“We can deal with it, Michael. I promise we can. And as far as we’re concerned—well, you’re not like Gregg. He wanted everything from me, even expected me to make him a star. We did not have a healthy relationship. But you and me—”
“I hate to interrupt,” he said. “I can hear someone hammering at the door.”
“I put a Do Not Disturb on the phone and the door,” she said. “Who would dare disturb me?”
“I’m sure someone’s knocking,” he said, getting out of bed and reaching for a hotel robe. “I’ll go take a look.”
“You have a great butt,” she said playfully. “Why is it that men always have better butts than women?”
“Hey, you’ve got nothing to complain about,” he said, walking through the living room to the door of the suite.
Somebody was banging on the door and calling out, “Lissa! Miz Roman, I have to speak to you. It’s Danny! It’s urgent!”
Jesus! Here he was in a robe, and Danny was outside the door.
He hurried back into the bedroom. “It’s your assistant,” he said. “Should I see what he wants? He’s yelling about it being urgent.”
“What can be so urgent?”
“Who knows? Maybe you’d better go yourself.”
“You’re right,” she said, jumping out of bed and reaching for her own robe. “If Danny catches you here, he’ll tell everyone. You stay put, I’ll be right back.” She hurried to the door and flung it open. “Danny,” she said crossly. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s late and I was asleep, and in case you haven’t noticed, there is a Do Not Disturb on my door. This better be very important.”
Danny almost fell into the living room. “It is,” he said. “Somebody’s threatening to kill Nicci.”
Chapter Forty-two
* * *
SHE’S AWAKE,” Little Joe said.
“How do you know?” Eric asked.
“ ’Cause I took a gander through the peephole.”
“What’s she doing?”
“Sittin’ on the mattress,” Little Joe said, scratching his head. “She’s pretty,” he added. “What’s her name?”
“It doesn’t matter what her name is,” Eric said guardedly. “You’d better get some sleeping pills down her. We need to keep her sedated.”
“How’m I supposed t’do that?” Little Joe whined.
“Your problem,” Eric snapped. “That’s what you’re getting paid for.”
He was so sick of this group of losers. And glad that he’d made the decision not to pay them. They didn’t deserve shit.
Arliss had gone to pick up food. Big Mark wouldn’t return until later, when he finished work. Davey was due back any minute.
In the meantime, Little Joe had better take care of her, because Eric sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere near her. He didn’t want her picking his face out of a lineup if it ever came down to it.
“Get moving,” he said to Little Joe, anxious to get him out of the way before he made the second phone call. If any of them suspected the kind of ransom he was demanding, they’d want more.
Not that it made any difference, because what they were getting was absolutely nothing.
•
NICCI COULDN’T BELIEVE that Saffron would pull a stunt like this. It was the most bizarre thing she’d ever heard of. And any moment now, some horny stud dressed up as a prison guard would come walking in and start taking it off.
Damn! This was so not a good idea. She was freezing cold and starving hungry, and she could cheerfully murder her inventive friend. This was way over the top.
When the door was pushed open, she was prepared. It could be George fucking Clooney or Brad fucking Pitt, and she’d tell them to put their fucking clothes on and get lost, because she’d had it.
But it wasn’t George or Brad. It was a short, popeyed man, in brown trousers and a sickly maroon sweater. And he looked nervous as hell.
“Jesus!” Nicci said. “If you dare take one item of clothing off, I am so kicking you in the balls!”
The man’s expression was stunned.
“Tell Saffron the game is over,” she said, getting up and heading for the door.
Little Joe was galvanized into action. He might be short, but he was strong. He stopped her at the door, blocking her way with his sturdy bulk.
“Get out of my way,” she said threateningly. “I don’t care how much Saffron is paying you, the game is fucking over!”
“That’s not nice language for a girl,” Little Joe said. “You go back over there.”
She attempted to push past him.
“Get back over there,” he repeated, his eyes almost popping out of his head.
“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do,” she said angrily. “I’ve had enough! Don’t you understand English?”
“This is n . . . not a game,” Little Joe stammered.
She made another move to push past him. This time he shoved her so hard that she fell back across the room.
“You’d better stay quiet,” he warned, his eyes still popping alarmingly. “Eric won’t like it if you make a fuss.”
She picked herself up, shocked. “Who’s Eric?”
“The boss,” Little Joe said. “We do what he says, an’ you do what we say.”
“Where’s Saffron?”
“There’s no Saffron,” Little Joe said. “You’re our prisoner, but not for long.”
“Your prisoner?” she said, feeling fear for the first time. “What is this?”
“You’ve been kidnapped,” Little Joe explained. “And when they pay, Eric will let you go.”
“What?”
“Don’t be nervous,” he said, staring at the exposed strip of stomach between her brief tank top and lowrider jeans. “You’re pretty. Nothin’ to worry.”
“Oh my God!” she gasped, suddenly feeling dizzy. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”
•
BRIAN REACHED EVAN, who was not at all happy to hear from him. “What do you want?” he said nastily.
“I’m looking for Nicci,” Brian said.
“Very funny,” Evan said.
“No, really. Is she there?”
“Of course she’s not, and I can’t talk now.”
“Why? You in bed with Abbey?”
“None of your business, Brian.”
“Hey—you should be thanking me. I’m calling to give you a heads up, Nicci’s probably on her way there.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Saffron came by to pick her up for her bachelorette night, and she was gone. We think she’s on her way to see you.”
“Christ!” Evan said. “Are you serious?”
“Unless you know where she is.”
“Shit!”
“Call me when she gets there,” Brian said. “Saffron’s worried.”
“What’s she worried about?”
“In case Nicci’s not on her way to you, we don’t know where she is.”
“She probably flew to Vegas to see her mother.”
“No. She was with me all day. When I took her home she was all excited about her night out with Saffron.”
“What was she doing with you all day?”
“We had breakfast, that’s about it.”
“Breakfast took all day?”
“We drove to Santa Barbara.”
“Jesus Christ, Brian,” Evan complained. “Do you think you can keep your hands off my fiancée?”
“Sure. I’ll keep my hands off her when you keep your hands off Abbey.”
“Fuck you,” Evan said.
“No,” Brian said. “Fuck you!” And he slammed down the phone. A few minutes later he called Saffron. “She’s not there,” he said. “She could be on her way.”
“I’m phoning Lissa in Vegas,” Saffron said. “I got a bad feeling, Brian.”
“D’you want me to come over?”
“Yeah—I’m still at her house.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Cool. I’ll see you in a minute.”
•
PATRICK ARRIVED at Belinda’s and headed straight for the bar.
“What do you think?” Belinda asked. “Is it time to call a lawyer?”
Patrick was chuckling to himself as he fixed himself a Jack Daniel’s on the rocks. “You sure know how to pick ’em,” he said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Belinda inquired, wondering why her ex-boyfriend was in such a jovial mood.
“I’ve just come from the police station,” Patrick said, downing a shot. “Guess what Gregg was arrested for?”
“What?” she asked curiously.
“Attempted rape.”
“Rape?” she said blankly.
“Yup,” Patrick said, laughing aloud. “Your boyfriend was caug
ht with his pants down.”
“Who was he trying to rape?” Belinda asked, quite shocked.
“Remember that personal shopper you fixed him up with?”
“Deidra?”
“She’s the one,” he said, happily swigging Jack Daniel’s. “Seems your boyfriend attacked her in the dressing room at Barneys. Can you friggin’ believe it?” “No, I can’t,” she said, sitting down on an overstuffed couch.
“Yeah, she ran out of the dressing room screaming rape, an’ someone called the cops. She pressed charges, an’ now he’s in jail. I’ve got a photographer on standby, and the story is all set to go. Forget about that crap with Lissa’s diary. This is bigger and better.”
“Better than twenty-five grand?” Belinda asked.
“Sure,” Patrick said, sitting down beside her. “You’ll make plenty, ’cause I’m cuttin’ a deal for you to tell everything.”
“What is everything?” she asked, alarmed.
“Bedroom details of your life with this loser.”
“I can’t do that, Patrick,” she said, thinking of the ramifications. “I’m a public figure, I’m on TV for crissakes.”
“Here’s the sweet thing,” Patrick said, edging closer. “The story won’t come from you. It’ll be a series of quotes from a close friend, someone who’ll come up with all the details. So you’ll be clean, we get the money, an’ the story flies. I’ve already spoken to Deidra, I’m buying her story too. This is very sweet, darlin’.”
“Patrick,” Belinda said admiringly, “you’re such an operator.”
He planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Takes one to know one.”
“Fix me a drink,” she said with a smile. “I never thought Gregg was a keeper. He was good in the sack though.”
“S’good as me?” Patrick asked with a cocky leer.
“According to you,” Belinda said, still smiling, “nobody’s as good as you.”
He snickered. “Listen,” he said. “Here’s the problem. If you bail him out, he’ll try t’come here, an’ I don’t think you want that. So you gotta act like the disgusted girlfriend an’ dump him. We’ll stash his luggage at a hotel. I’ll spring him, an’ tell him the bad news. In the meantime, you’d better change your locks.”
Hollywood Wives--The New Generation Page 38
