‘That’s what friends are for,’ he said, pulling her even closer.
The warmth of his body made her feel safe and secure.
She wondered how he’d feel about raising another man’s child.
Merrill Zandack made his usual flashy entrance. This time he was not accompanied by one steely-looking brunette but two. They hovered close behind him like a pair of matching sentinels.
Jonas cleared a table for him to sit at. After a few minutes, Cat moved over and joined him. ‘Merrill,’ she said enthusiastically, ‘I’m glad you could make it.’
‘As if I would miss your coming-out party,’ he said, waving a large Cuban cigar in the air. ‘You’re my new star, Kitten. You’re very, very good at what you do, and you’re young, so I’ve got many years left before you turn into an arrogant pain in the ass.’
She wanted to say, ‘Like you,’ but managed to control herself. ‘I’m glad you like what you’ve seen. I should have a rough cut for you in three or four weeks.’
‘I’ll come to the editing room,’ he said. ‘I’ve got an eye, you know.’
‘No, Merrill,’ she said quickly. ‘You’ve got to leave me alone until I deliver my rough cut. Then, if you have any words of wisdom, I’ll be happy to listen.’
He rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. ‘The girl’s already talking back to me.’
‘Yup,’ she said, grinning. ‘Now I can.’
‘When do I get your new script?’ he demanded. ‘I’m waiting.’
‘Let me finish this project. After that we’ll talk.’
‘Oh, we’ll talk, will we?’ Merrill mocked. ‘I suppose your plan is to surround me with lawyers and shit.’
‘You didn’t exactly treat me fairly last time.’
‘You won, didn’t you?’
‘Not thanks to you. If Nick or Shelby hadn’t wanted me, I would’ve been screwed.’
He roared with laughter. ‘You’re a good-looking girl,’ he said. ‘Ever thought of being on the other side of the camera?’
‘No, Mr Zee,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ve never thought of that.’
And so the party continued, with everyone having a good time.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Allegra was stark raving crazy mad. Linc knew that much about her. She was always on, always yelling, always bitching about something or other. She had the longest legs he’d ever seen, a tight pussy, and a vile temper. They shared ferocious fights, which made a refreshing change from Shelby clamming up on him.
Allegra was twenty-five. He was just about to celebrate his forty-third birthday. Some celebration with no Shelby by his side. He missed her desperately. Often he harboured murderous thoughts about Pete. He wanted to hang the asshole by his balls from a very high pole. Stunt that!
He was not pleased with Lola, either. He was almost certain she’d orchestrated those photos outside the restaurant. Could it be that Freddy was right? She’d wanted to get back at him because he didn’t remember fucking her. Bitch! He wouldn’t fuck her with someone else’s dick.
Allegra waltzed into the room wearing a skimpy Valentino slip-dress, four-inch stilettos–making her six feet four–and not much else except for a few strategically placed diamonds. One was a nipple piercing–painful, but extraordinarily sexy. ‘Tonight,’ she said, her long, jet-black hair almost covering her face as she laid out several lines of coke, ‘we’re takin’ a walk on the wild side. You up for it, stud?’ she challenged.
‘I’m up for anything you got to offer,’ he responded.
‘Cool,’ she said, greedily snorting as much coke as she could.
‘Yeah,’ he agreed, doing a few lines, then reaching for a nearby bottle of Scotch, knowing it was necessary to anaesthetize himself before the onslaught of whatever Allegra had in mind.
Raja Mestres was a formidable-looking woman in her early sixties, with strong features, deep scarlet lips, and a commanding attitude. Clad in a flowing embroidered orange cape over black matador pants and a black cashmere turtleneck sweater, with numerous gold bracelets and bangles jangling on her wrists, she attracted the attention of everyone at the party in her honour.
The event was taking place in a magnificent thirties-style mansion–recently restored to its former glory by self-made billionaire Jorge Jobim. Everyone who was anyone in the Latin community was there, plus a scattering of Hollywood stars and art-collecting producers and directors.
Lola had not met Jorge before. She was delighted to make his acquaintance, because she’d heard that he sometimes invested in movies, and there were future projects she had in mind that would never be considered by any of the major studios.
‘You are as lovely as the image I see on the screen,’ Jorge said, when they were introduced. Rumour was that he was bisexual, with a rich-in-her-own-right older wife, and a series of beautiful young boys imported from South America–sent back later with thousands of dollars’ worth of designer clothes.
‘And might I say that you are just as charming,’ Lola told him. ‘I have heard many great things about you.’
‘My dear,’ Jorge said, kissing her hand in a courtly fashion. ‘Come, I will introduce you to la bellezza.’
Lola did not consider Raja Mestres a beauty. She did consider her a great artist, and it was an honour to meet her. Unfortunately Raja spoke very little English, and since Lola’s Spanish was limited, their conversation was short.
‘Can we go now?’ Matt whispered, trailing behind her.
She turned on him, ‘No,’ she said fiercely. ‘We only just got here. This is an amazing house. Go take a look around.’
A waiter hovered, holding a tray of canapés.
‘What’s the score?’ Matt asked the waiter.
‘Lakers are winning. The game’s on in the kitchen,’ the waiter confided in a low voice.
‘Where’s the kitchen?’ Matt asked.
‘The other side of the swimming pool,’ the waiter replied.
Matt turned to Lola. ‘Do you mind if I—’
‘Go ahead,’ she said, glad to be rid of him. He vanished in the direction of the kitchen. It wasn’t as if he was a great escort. He stood around like a dressed extra at a funeral and had absolutely nothing to say.
‘So,’ Nick said, giving Cat a long, intense look, ‘you think we can blow this pop-stand?’
‘Huh?’
‘Leave. Split. Get outta here.’
‘I have to stay until the end.’
‘No way.’ He groaned. ‘You know what the crew’s like when it comes to free booze, they’ll be here all night.’
‘I should hang around until at least one.’
‘You brought your overnight, didn’t you?’ he asked hopefully, raising an eyebrow.
‘One toothbrush.’
‘No clothes?’
‘Why? Are you planning a hiking trip?’
‘Maybe.’
‘You don’t strike me as the hiking type, Nick.’
‘Hey,’ he said, fishing for a cigarette, ‘you might think you know me–but here’s a newsflash–no way.’
‘I know that you love women.’
‘Would you sooner I loved men?’ he asked, squinting at her.
She laughed. ‘I guess I’m gonna miss you,’ she volunteered.
‘I know I’ll miss you,’ he responded, lighting up his cigarette. ‘I was thinking that after you finish editing, I’ll still be on location in Miami–you could come visit.’
‘I’m not good at visiting my men on their various locations.’
‘How many men have you had?’
‘I told you what happened when I surprised Jump in Australia.’
‘That was one guy,’ Nick insisted. ‘One major asshole.’
‘And you’re different?’
‘You noticed any girls around lately?’
‘No.’
‘That’s ’cause I’m attempting to make a good impression,’ he said, exhaling smoke.
‘Oh, I see. For our one night of crazy sex, huh?’
‘Who said it was gonna be one night?’
‘I did.’
‘You might be so into it you’ll be beggin’ to come back for more.’
‘Man, you certainly have a high opinion of yourself.’
‘Hey,’ he said, with a cocky laugh, ‘never had any complaints.’
Her parents were ready to go home, and Shelby was ready to leave with them, only Pete wouldn’t allow her to. ‘They can take your car,’ he said. ‘You can’t let the crew down. Everyone wants a photo or a dance with you.’
She agreed to stay, although she would’ve preferred to go home and check her voicemail to see if Linc had called her back. Before she consulted a lawyer she hoped to have at least one conversation with him.
Allegra. A cover girl on Sports Illustrated. Was that the kind of woman Linc wanted to be with now?
Obviously.
Pete guided her around the club, satisfying everyone as he organized photos, making sure to move her from group to group at a brisk pace.
‘Were you ever a publicist?’ she asked with a smile. ‘You do it so well.’
‘Army training,’ he replied. ‘When I was a kid I ran away and enlisted. Then they eventually found out how old I was and threw me out.’
‘How old were you?’
‘Fourteen.’
‘No!’
‘I was a big boy for my age.’
‘And smart too.’
‘Right. If I saw something I wanted, I went for it.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, Shelby,’ he said, giving her a meaningful look. ‘I’ve always been very determined.’
The party was a huge success, with everyone enjoying themselves.
‘We’re never getting outta here,’ Nick grumbled.
‘Oh, yes, we are,’ Cat contradicted him. ‘Ten more minutes and we’ll sneak out without saying goodbye to anyone. How’s that?’
‘Perfect, if you think we can get away with it.’
‘We will, especially if you manage to shake some of those women who’ve been following you around with their mouths hanging open.’
‘You’re not exactly going unnoticed,’ he retorted. ‘Who knew you cleaned up so good?’
‘You did.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ he said, grinning. ‘I did, didn’t I?’
Fifteen minutes later they were in his red Maserati Spyder two-seater cabriolet, roaring out of the parking lot.
‘Nice wheels,’ Cat remarked.
‘Had it delivered today,’ he answered. ‘My end-of-movie present to myself. This little mother can go from zero to sixty miles per hour in four point nine seconds.’
‘Gee,’ she drawled. ‘I can’t wait.’
‘You’re not into speed?’
‘I love it–when I’m driving.’
‘Shut your eyes and think of James Dean.’
‘Oh, you’re a laugh a minute.’
‘C’mon, Blondie, take it easy.’
‘I will if you tell me where we’re going.’
‘You’ll find out when we get there.’
‘I want to know now.’
‘Control freak.’
‘I am so not.’
‘Oh, yes, you are.’
‘Well…it takes one to know one.’
‘Guess so.’ And with that he put his foot down even harder.
Allegra’s idea of a walk on the wild side was just that. An after-hours private club in the meat-packing district, entry gained with possession of a phallus-shaped key, then passing through two sets of door people, and uttering two passwords. Allegra was well prepared. They sailed through.
‘Jesus, what is this place?’ Linc mumbled, feeling high and low and totally fucked up.
‘You’ll see,’ she answered mysteriously. ‘It’s a trip. You’ll get off on it.’
Yeah, he’d get off, all right. He was so stoned he didn’t even know what day it was.
Allegra led him by the hand down a flight of dark steps into a dimly lit club. The air was thick with cigarette and pot smoke. A tangled mass of people was thrashing about on a crowded dance floor, while a fat black woman stood on a small stage, clutching a microphone and wailing the blues.
All around the room there were large mattresses where people lounged. They were drinking, smoking and making out.
Linc shook his head. What was this? A sex club? ‘Hey, what’s goin’ on here?’ he managed.
‘You’ll get off on it, hon, I promise you,’ Allegra said, her voice louder than ever as she led him over to a circle of mattresses where friends of hers were indulging in an abundance of illegal substances. She shoved him down on to one of the mattresses. ‘Meet Linc Blackwood, everybody,’ she said. ‘Never thought I’d bring him here, did you?’
‘Well, well,’ observed a harsh-faced bottle blonde in bondage black leather. ‘Isn’t he quite the prize?’
Before Linc knew it, hands and tongues were all over him, fast divesting him of his clothes.
He didn’t have the strength to fight back. What the fuck? Who cared? The sensations were pleasant enough, the bottle-blonde’s tongue talented, wet and amazing.
Somebody began feeding him mushrooms, somebody else was rubbing coke on his nipples.
‘You ever smoked heroin?’ Allegra whispered. ‘Try it. You’ll think you died an’ went to heaven.’
Jesus! Should he be doing this in a public place? How public was it anyway? Nobody could get in unless they had the key or the passwords.
‘Relax and enjoy,’ Allegra murmured, slipping off her expensive dress and leaning over him, her nipples hard against his chest.
Everything was space-like. Linc had no idea where he was or who he was with. Lie back and join the party, was all he could think. Relax and enjoy.
Where the fuck was Shelby when he needed her?
Chapter Forty
‘Lola,’ a female voice called, ‘it’s so fun to bump into you again.’
Fast approaching was Petra Flynn, the TV bombshell Lola had met at the health spa.
For a moment she almost forgot the bountiful blonde’s name, then it came to her. ‘Petra!’ she exclaimed, just in time. ‘How are you?’
‘Better than the last time I saw you,’ Petra responded, pulling her escort over, huge breasts spilling out of a low-cut red dress. ‘Meet my new man,’ she said proudly. ‘Jump Jagger.’
‘Any relation to—’
‘No,’ Jump interrupted, a tall, skinny rock ‘n’ roller with multiple piercings and tattoos.
‘Jump’s a rock star in his own right,’ Petra confided, giggling. ‘He’s going to be huge. Oh, sorry, honey,’ she said, clinging on to his arm. ‘I didn’t mean you’re going to be huge, we all know you are huge.’
Where is Isabelle when I need her? Lola thought. Petra Flynn is too much for me to deal with.
Then she saw him, Tony Alvarez, walking into the party for Raja Mestres, his baby-faced Puerto Rican tramp clinging to his arm. Not only did the girl look twelve, she was also short.
Tony hadn’t spotted her yet, but Lola knew it would only be seconds before he did. The magnetic force that existed between them was undeniable.
Sure enough, he glanced over and their eyes met. They exchanged one of those looks-across-a-crowded-room moments.
Immediately she turned her head and started talking to Petra and her rock-star boyfriend. ‘How did you two meet?’ she asked, not at all interested.
‘I was in New York doing a voiceover for a commercial,’ Petra explained, only too happy to relate the story, ‘and as I was walking out of the recording studio, there was Jump walking in. We literally bumped into each other. I started asking him about his tattoos ’cause I just had one put in a place that I’m not revealing to anyone. And he recommended a terrific guy in L.A. So I asked him if he ever came to L.A. And he said he didn’t have a place here, and I said he could come and spend the weekend with me. And here we are.’
‘Sounds romantic,’ Lola murmured, although she hadn’t listened to
a word.
‘It is,’ Petra agreed.
‘Good for you.’
‘I read about your sister getting shot,’ Petra said, lowering her voice to a respectful whisper. ‘That was so terrible. Was she the sister I met at the spa?’
‘No,’ Lola said, keeping one eye on Tony as he manoeuvred himself across the room, slowly making his way towards her. ‘It was my other sister, Selma.’
‘How awful!’ Petra exclaimed.
‘I’m happy to say she’s out of her coma and doing well.’
‘It’s incredible what they can do at hospitals,’ Petra said, absently fingering one of her enormous implants.
‘Hospitals don’t bring people out of a coma,’ Lola said. ‘They come out of it on their own.’
‘What a drag that they can’t do that,’ Petra said. ‘Isn’t that a drag, Jump?’
‘Yeah,’ Jump agreed. ‘Anywhere around here I can go take a smoke?’
Suddenly Tony was upon them. God, he had a nerve, approaching her with his girlfriend by his side. How dare he?
‘Lola,’ he said, dark eyes sexy as ever.
‘Tony,’ she responded, desperately attempting not to fall into them.
‘Meet Maria.’
‘Hi, Maria, dear,’ she said coolly, looking down at the girl, who was not only short but flat-chested with no ass. She must sing one hell of a song in the bedroom, Lola thought sourly.
‘Hi,’ Maria answered, in a little-girl voice.
‘Do you know Petra Flynn and Jump Jagger?’ Lola asked, playing gracious hostess. ‘And no, he’s not any relation to—’
‘To who?’ Tony interrupted.
‘Mick Jagger, of course.’
‘Why would he be related?’
Tony was purposely being obtuse. Go screw yourself, she wanted to say to him as he stood there with his baby girlfriend. He thought he was so smart. Well, he wasn’t. Tony Alvarez was a thug, and she knew it.
‘How’s Selma doing?’ Tony asked.
Oh, yeah, like you care. ‘She’s doing well, thank you. The doctors assure us she’ll be out of the hospital within days.’
‘I’m pleased.’
Hollywood Divorces • Hollywood Wives: The New Generation Page 80
