Hollywood Divorces • Hollywood Wives: The New Generation

by Jackie Collins

  ‘Jesus!’ he exclaimed, when they were both finished. ‘That was the greatest.’

  ‘Mmm,’ she agreed, rolling off him. ‘You’re not bad.’

  ‘Seems like you’ve had a practice run or two,’ he said, reaching for a cigarette.

  ‘And I’ve got a feeling you’ve done this before,’ she murmured.

  ‘A few times,’ he said, lighting his cigarette. ‘Never with anyone like you.’

  ‘And he knows what to say too.’

  ‘Hey, the first time I saw you I knew this was gonna happen.’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘You certainly did,’ he said, blowing smoke rings toward the ceiling. ‘You were trying to ward me off ’cause you were my director and it wasn’t cool to hop into bed with your main actor. Right?’

  ‘Your ego is out of control.’

  ‘Took a lotta willpower, though, didn’t it?’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself.’

  ‘There’s nothing like the real thing, huh?’ he said, turning toward her.

  ‘I thought casual fucking was your bag.’

  ‘Then I met you.’

  ‘Hmm…’

  ‘Hmm, what?’

  ‘Until the next one comes along.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Blondie. Very, very wrong.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ she said, not prepared to believe a word he said. ‘Only don’t sweat it, ’cause casual sex suits me just fine right now. We can make it as casual as you like.’

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Something awoke Lola. She wasn’t sure what it was–a noise, a bump, or maybe it was a car starting.

  She sat up and glanced at the clock. It was almost six in the morning.

  Hmm…if there was an intruder on the premises, Big Jay would’ve been on the case. He slept above the garage in his own apartment, and there was also a guard on duty down by the front gate.

  She wondered if Matt was still asleep in the guest bedroom. Had she been too harsh on him?

  No. Why pretend? He was about to walk away with a lot of money, and a case of half-assed fame. Women would want to be with him simply because he was the ex Mr Lola Sanchez.

  She clicked on the TV, switching to the security channel where she could see the gate.

  There was a car leaving the driveway. Her car. Her Bentley.

  Oh, shit! Matt had taken her Bentley again. He’d gone and taken her car. Damn! She couldn’t believe his nerve. He knew how pissed off she’d be.

  Oh, well, too late to stop him now.

  Did this mean that she’d have to give him another settlement and the Bentley? Because it was unlikely that Otto would get it back for her a second time.

  Her thoughts shifted to Tony. Today she’d call him and tell him her plan. ‘I think we should get married,’ she’d say. ‘Dump the putta and let’s get serious here. I’ll arrange a fast divorce, and I promise I’ll never run out on you again.’

  Yes, that was what she’d say. And Tony would forgive her, because if he wasn’t prepared to forgive her, he wouldn’t have lured her into the bedroom at the party, locked the door and forced her to her knees.

  Not that he’d had to force her. She loved giving Tony Alvarez head. He was the best-tasting man in the world. A prince, a king. He was her man. And she loved everything about him.

  Was it too early to call him? Yes. Tony was a night person. When he wasn’t working he usually slept until noon.

  Was Maria lying next to him?

  Unlikely, because after she’d told him about catching his girlfriend with Raja, he’d probably dumped her. Tony was not the kind of man who’d put up with sloppy seconds.

  She got out of bed and went into the bathroom. It was almost light outside, and she didn’t feel like going back to sleep. She thought about driving over to her mother’s. Claudine always rose early, and sometimes she could be persuaded to fix pancakes with crispy bacon and homemade maple syrup.

  Yes, she’d go over to Mama’s house, corner her in the kitchen and tell her very calmly that she did not love Matt, that there was no way she was staying with him, and if Tony would have her–they were getting married.

  If Claudine threw a shit-fit, it was too damn bad.

  Matt drove Lola’s Bentley as though he was a General about to go to war. Oh, Lola would be so angry when she noticed her precious car was gone. He couldn’t care less. After all, he was only borrowing it. He’d bring it back, because very soon she’d want him back.

  He’d dressed all in black and found his ski-mask, which he’d placed on the passenger seat. He also had on a knitted cap pulled low on his forehead. His outfit made him feel powerful and invincible–like a Ninja warrior.

  Whistling softly under his breath, he headed for the Hollywood Hills.

  ‘There’s no way I can sleep,’ Cat said, suddenly sitting up in bed. ‘I’m way too hyper.’

  ‘Me, too,’ Nick agreed. ‘Wanna go play?’

  ‘It’s six a.m.,’ she pointed out.

  ‘So?’ he said, yawning. ‘There’s no clocks in casinos. Nobody gives a shit. I’ll set you up with a bunch of dollar bills and you’ll play the slots.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said tartly. ‘You think I’m playing the slots while you sit at the blackjack table having fun with the grown-ups?’

  He reached for a cigarette. ‘You’ll have fun playing the slots.’

  ‘Who do you think I am? A little old lady on a walker?’ she said, jumping on top of him. ‘I insist you teach me blackjack.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve never played,’ he said, rolling her off him.

  ‘I used to hang out in the casinos in Cannes and Monte Carlo with my dad,’ she said, remembering her unconventional childhood. ‘It was major boring. Full of incredibly ancient people hunched over the tables. I used to sneak off to the bar and persuade the barman to slip me a drink.’

  ‘What didja have to do to persuade him?’

  ‘Well,’ she said, grinning, ‘remember that technique I demonstrated earlier?’

  He put up his hand. ‘Don’t wanna hear where you learned it.’

  ‘It was pretty good, huh?’ she said, still grinning. ‘Gives a whole new meaning to the word “French”.’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ he said, laughing and dragging her out of bed. ‘C’mon, let’s get dressed and go downstairs.’

  ‘Should we do anything about Amy and Jonas?’

  ‘No. They’re a honeymoon couple, let ’em sleep.’

  Lately Tony Alvarez had been doing a lot of thinking about Lola. She was hot, she was sexy, but sometimes her fame was too much of a good thing. Everything she did was scrutinized. Everywhere they went, people stared.

  Not that he minded the staring so much–he was well-known in his own right–but the constant wave of publicity that followed her everywhere got on his nerves, plus he hated being picked to pieces by the tabloids. Maybe if he didn’t keep on getting back with Lola, they’d leave him alone.

  On the other hand there was Maria. Young, pliable Maria. Not famous yet, she was always available–and certainly not as contrary as Lola. One moment Lola was leaving her husband, the next she was back with the prick. He never knew where he stood with her.

  This kind of drama did not appeal to Tony, although if he made the decision not to see her again he’d miss her soft lips, voluptuous body and their very special private games.

  Knowing Lola, he wouldn’t have to give her up entirely. If she stayed with her husband, she’d still want to get together on the side.

  On the way home from the party, he’d questioned Maria about Raja.

  ‘How could I say no?’ Maria had answered, all wide-eyed and exceptionally pretty. ‘She was the guest of honour, Tonee. My parents taught me to be polite.’

  Sweet.

  ‘Sometimes, Tonee,’ she’d added slyly, ‘you might enjoy two girls together? I have a friend who will come over and spend the rest of the night with us.’

  Even though Lola had given him spectacular head in Jorge’s private be
droom, he was always up for more. ‘Go ahead and call her,’ he’d said.

  Maria’s friend had come to his house. She was a Caucasian beauty with long blonde hair down to the top of her thighs. The three of them had played in Tony’s bed until the early hours.

  Later, both girls had fallen asleep draped all over him.

  He hadn’t minded. Why would he?

  The only problem was that Lola was on his mind, and he couldn’t sleep.

  Lola hurriedly put on a tracksuit and baseball cap, then ran downstairs.

  Big Jay was still not up; nor was her housekeeper.

  She peeked into the den to see if Matt had collected all his personal possessions, such as his collection of sports DVDs and the script he’d been writing for ever.

  She noticed that her personal organizer lay open on the desk. She didn’t remember leaving it there, so she walked over and picked it up. It was open at the letter A where Tony’s address and private numbers were listed. Somebody had slashed a thick red X through his name.

  Why would anybody do that?

  Matt, of course, showing off his venom.

  How pathetic.

  She was about to leave the room, when it occurred to her to wonder why Matt was looking up Tony’s address. Not that Matt would ever do anything foolish. But still…

  Returning upstairs, she checked out Matt’s closet to see if he’d taken his clothes.

  No. Everything was still there, hanging neatly.

  Hmm…he’d left early in the morning without taking anything. She had a lingering feeling that something was not quite right.

  Maybe she should call Tony just in case.

  No, she decided, absolutely not. Tony would not appreciate being awoken so early.

  She picked up the phone and called her mother instead. ‘Pancakes, Mama?’ she asked hopefully. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘For you, Lucia–of course.’

  ‘I’m on my way.’

  ‘Can I get you anything?’ the flight attendant enquired. She was a faded, pretty girl with tight brown curls and a tired smile.

  ‘No, thanks,’ Pete said, indicating Shelby, who’d fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. ‘Miss Cheney is sleeping.’

  ‘Do you think I can get her autograph when she wakes up?’ the flight attendant asked, brightening slightly.

  ‘This is not a good time.’

  ‘It’s not?’

  ‘Ms Cheney is dealing with a personal crisis.’

  ‘So an autograph won’t be possible?’ the flight attendant said, bristling slightly.

  ‘I’ll ask her for you.’

  ‘I’d certainly like to get one.’

  Pete rolled his eyes as the woman walked away. When it came to celebrities people didn’t care what was going on in their personal lives. As far as the general public was concerned, celebrities were their rightful property.

  His right arm was numb, but he was loath to move it and disturb Shelby. She looked so peaceful and relaxed, and she smelt so good.

  He kept on thinking about Linc. They’d once been close, and although Linc had stolen Shelby from him, he certainly did not wish him any harm.

  It was difficult, though. He loved Shelby so very much, and if Linc lived through this crisis he knew he’d never have her.

  However, if Linc died…

  Christ! It was a no-win situation.

  He glanced at his watch. Another three hours before they landed.

  Lola decided not to wake Big Jay, even though she knew he’d go into a big sulk if she sneaked out by herself. Actually, she quite enjoyed the freedom of being out on her own, and it wasn’t as if there were any crazed stalkers around this early in the morning, although in the past she’d experienced her share.

  She jumped into her sporty, electric blue Mercedes and set off.

  Naturally, her trusty guard at the gate was asleep. Wonderful! What exactly was she paying him for? Certainly not to fall asleep on the job.

  She honked her horn, activated the automatic gates, and sped out on the way to her mother’s house.

  ‘Never draw if the dealer is showing a picture card,’ Nick instructed.

  ‘Why?’ Cat questioned. ‘I might be feeling lucky.’

  ‘You can’t play this game on the way you feel.’

  ‘I can do whatever I want.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, I forgot’ it’s you I’m speaking to,’ he said, sitting down at a blackjack table. ‘Miss “I’ll-do-it-my-way-or-not-at-all”.’

  ‘You’ve given me the basics and I get it, okay?’ she said, anxious to get started.

  ‘Don’t sit next to me and screw up my game,’ he warned.

  ‘Would you prefer I go to another table?’

  ‘Now you’re talking.’

  ‘Screw you, Nick,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘I could be a big asset.’

  ‘Or a big pain in the ass.’

  ‘You jackoff.’

  ‘How come you know me so well?’

  A cocktail waitress approached. ‘Mr Logan, can I get you anything?’ she gushed, ignoring Cat.

  ‘Not right now, thanks.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes, he’s sure,’ Cat said.

  ‘Are you making a movie in Vegas?’ the waitress asked, fluttering her overly long, fake lashes.

  The pit boss gave the waitress a steely glare, indicating that she should move on.

  ‘Sorry, Mr Logan,’ the pit boss said, coming over. ‘The girls are excited you’re here.’

  ‘No worries,’ Nick replied. ‘I’m kinda used to it.’

  ‘We’ll try and keep people away from you.’

  ‘While he’s doing that,’ Cat said, ‘I’m finding my own table to play at.’

  ‘Be lucky,’ Nick said.

  ‘I intend to,’ she answered, wandering off.

  As soon as Cat left, a flat-faced woman slid on to the seat beside him. She glanced at him, then did a double-take. ‘You’re Nick Logan,’ she announced, as if she was telling him something he didn’t already know.

  ‘Right.’

  ‘I’ve seen all your movies.’

  ‘I’ve seen all yours,’ he retorted, straight-faced.

  ‘I’m not an actress.’

  ‘Shame.’

  Puzzled, she turned away.

  He winked at the dealer. ‘Let’s get this show on track. I got itchy hands.’

  Tony Alvarez lived way up in the Hollywood Hills. Matt manoeuvred the sleek Bentley through the winding streets, searching for the address he’d found in Lola’s organizer. When he located the right house, he drove past the gated entry a couple of times then parked further up the street.

  He sat in the car for a few moments considering his next move. Eventually he jumped out of the Bentley and made his way back down the hill, checking out the tall hedges surrounding the property. Nothing that he couldn’t scale.

  If there was one thing Matt excelled at, it was athletics.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Tony had to piss so badly he could barely stand it. Maria and her blonde girlfriend were still draped across him. Taking a surreptitious peek at his watch he decided it was too early to wake them. Jeez! He felt like pissing all the way to the ceiling. Although it occurred to him that maybe he should try holding it in; nothing like a piss hard-on to start off the day.

  A smile played around his lips. Two girls. Two delectable young girls. It had been some party.

  He closed his eyes again, drifting back into a half-sleep.

  Was he really ready to give up Lola?

  Yes, if she didn’t get rid of that dumb prick husband of hers and make up her mind.

  Lola Sanchez…They did have something special going.

  Lola was exciting and unpredictable. And she had a body to die for…

  Maria and her girlfriend paled in comparison. They were like delicious but not too filling starters, while Lola was the main course, sating his appetite in every way imaginable.

  Yes, Lola was the woman fo
r him. And it was about time he did something about it before starting his upcoming movie.

  ‘Hi, Mama,’ Lola said, bursting into the kitchen of her mother’s house.

  ‘Lucia, dear,’ Claudine said, greeting her famous daughter with a warm hug. ‘You look so lovely without makeup.’

  ‘Are you saying that I look like a hag with it?’ Lola said, circling the centre island and stealing a piece of crisp bacon.

  ‘Don’t be foolish,’ Claudine said, busying herself at the stove. ‘I am merely saying that I prefer you without it. Your skin is flawless.’

  ‘Inherited from you.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Claudine said, with a pleased smile.

  ‘You know you have gorgeous skin, Mama. It’s the envy of all your girlfriends.’

  ‘What are you doing up at this time?’ Claudine asked, slapping Lola’s hand away as she went for another strip of bacon. ‘This is most unusual for you.’

  ‘I get up early all the time. Sometimes I’m in the gym by five a.m.–especially when I’m on a movie.’

  ‘Sit down at the table and stop trying to steal things before you eat,’ Claudine scolded. ‘Tea or coffee?’

  ‘I love your cooking, Mama, I always have,’ Lola said, sitting down at the table.

  ‘I know. That’s the only reason you come here.’

  ‘No, it’s not.’

  ‘Remember when you got so skinny at the start of your career? I was quite alarmed.’

  ‘Mama! I was never skinny. I lost the weight ’cause the camera puts on fifteen pounds,’ she explained. ‘You don’t want a fat daughter up there on the screen wobbling away, do you?’

  ‘You were always my baby,’ Claudine said with a fond sigh. ‘Always my little one.’

  ‘Really, Mama?’ she said, quite touched. ‘I thought Selma was your favourite.’

  ‘I love all of you the same,’ Claudine said briskly, ‘although there’s something special about the youngest.’

  ‘Mama,’ Lola ventured, thinking this might be a good time to bring up Tony, ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over these past few weeks.’

  ‘Yes, dear?’

  ‘I know you probably won’t approve of what I have to say, although I honestly think you want me to be happy.’