‘Shelby,’ Pete said gently, ‘you have to realize that Linc has moved on. He hasn’t been calling you and begging you to come back, has he? He’s got himself a new girlfriend.’
‘I know,’ she answered sadly. ‘But when I tell him about the baby, things might change. The last four years I’ve been the one who’s protected him, Pete. He needs me.’
‘Is that what you want for the rest of your life? To be his guard? Watching everything he does, spying on him, seeing that he doesn’t take a drink or does a drug? Is that how you intend to live? Especially after you have the baby.’
‘All I want is for him to get over this. Then I’ll see.’
‘Can I get you anything? A real drink? Something to eat?’
‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I want you to know that I’m happy you’re with me, Pete.’
‘What was it they said in that old movie? “Just whistle and I’ll be there”?’
‘Thanks. It means a lot.’
‘Don’t move or I’ll blow your fucking brains out,’ Matt said. He’d heard those exact words on a cable TV show, and they seemed totally appropriate.
Very slowly and carefully, Tony was trying to get himself into a sitting position.
Maria, aware of what was going on, began whimpering softly. The other girl still slept.
Matt felt a surge of adrenaline. He had his rival exactly where he wanted him, and nothing and no one could stop him from blowing Tony Alvarez to kingdom come.
He had the power, and he was about to use it.
As he stared at his antagonist, he realized there were two girls in the bed. Two witnesses.
He hadn’t thought about witnesses. Matt Seel was not a killer. He was an assassin of one person and one person only.
What if these girls recognized him? What if they identified him?
No. Impossible. It was dark. He had on his wool ski-mask and cap. His face was hidden. One shot and he’d be out of there.
As these thoughts flew through his mind, he tightened his grip on the gun.
Everything was happening in slow motion for both men.
Tony’s mind was alive with ideas of how to stop the crazy sonofabitch. He had his own gun under the pillow: his plan was to reach it and blow this cocksucker away. Unfortunately the girls were in the way.
Now the blonde woke up and began whimpering too. He wished they’d both shut the fuck up. Had to concentrate. Had to make this go away.
‘Go in the bathroom,’ Matt commanded, jerking his gun at the two girls. ‘And stay in there. If you use the phone I’ll kill you.’
Another surge of power raced through his body. This being-in-charge shit was really something.
The girls didn’t need telling twice. They jumped off the bed and made a wild dash for the bathroom.
It was exactly the opportunity Tony needed. As the girls moved, he reached for the Mac 10 automatic he kept under the pillow.
Matt caught the movement and fired his Glock.
He was too late to stop Tony spraying a fusillade of bullets.
Both men were hit.
One of them fatally.
By the time Lola arrived home she had it all worked out. She would summon Big Jay to come upstairs and pack up Matt’s things. Then she’d call Tony and tell him that they had to have an immediate get-together. They’d discuss her marriage idea. She was sure he’d go for it. Why wouldn’t he? They’d been engaged once before. This time no engagement, instead, a quickie marriage the moment her divorce was final.
After that was settled she’d start concentrating on her career. She’d call Faye and instruct her to put out an announcement that she was divorcing Matt Seel. If Faye didn’t like it, too damn bad.
Big Jay greeted her at the gate with an expression of deep frustration. ‘Miss Lola, how many times I gotta ask you not to go places without me?’ he complained. ‘You never know who’s waitin’ to follow you. There’s always photographers hidin’. It ain’t safe for you to go runnin’ around on your own.’
‘Sorry,’ she answered casually. ‘I had to pop over to my mama’s. You were asleep.’
‘Not good enough, Miss Lola,’ Big Jay scolded. ‘In future you gotta wake me.’
‘Yes, Jay,’ she answered obediently.
After dealing with Big Jay, she drove up to her house.
There was no sign of the Bentley in the motor court. Damn! She loved that car.
She went straight to her dressing room, changed into her workout clothes, then headed for the gym in the pool house. Usually she worked out with a trainer, but since getting back from New York she hadn’t bothered to reinstate her workout time. Besides, sometimes she liked taking advantage of the solitude.
The gym was large and airy, filled with the latest equipment. It overlooked the swimming pool, a wall of bougainvillaea, and a cluster of palm trees. Most of the exercise equipment she’d got for free, because the manufacturers all wanted Lola Sanchez working out on their machines.
She clicked on the TV and jumped on the Lifecycle. Half an hour of cardio, forty-five minutes on the Lifecycle. Gotta get rid of those pancakes!
She felt pretty good, considering. Making decisions always filled her with energy.
After a while she buzzed Jenny on the intercom. ‘Arrange for a trip to Disneyland for me and all my nieces and nephews on Saturday. Alert Big Jay.’
‘Done,’ Jenny said.
Next she reached for her cellphone and called Isabelle. ‘I’ve decided to take all the kids to Disneyland on Saturday,’ she said. ‘Can you stop by the Gap and get them new outfits? My treat.’
‘Can I come?’ Isabelle asked.
‘I was thinking just me and the kids.’
‘You’ll never manage all of them.’
‘Big Jay will be with me. I’ll have him organize another couple of guards.’
‘But I’d like to come,’ Isabelle insisted, never one to miss out on a public outing with her attention-getting sister. Isabelle’s dream was to have her picture in People alongside Lola.
Lola knew better than to argue: when it came to Isabelle it simply wasn’t worth it. ‘Whatever you want,’ she said, resigning herself to her sister’s company. ‘Have you spoken to Selma today?’
‘I called the hospital,’ Isabelle replied. ‘She feels much better and can’t wait to see you.’
‘I’ll go over there later,’ Lola said, returning her attention to the TV.
The handsome Mr Lauer was interviewing a politician on The Today Show. He’d interviewed Lola a few times and she liked him a lot. He had an easy-going style, although he never let an interview subject get away with anything, which was quite refreshing.
Humming softly to herself, she watched him do his thing until a breaking-news story interrupted the programme.
A dark-haired newscaster appeared on the TV screen, her face serious. ‘Reports are coming through of a shooting at the Hollywood Hills home of award-winning film director Tony Alvarez. Mr Alvarez, one-time fiancé of movie star Lola Sanchez, was shot to death this morning in an apparent home invasion. We have no more details at this present time. We’ll keep you updated.’
Lola almost fell off the Lifecycle and immediately started running back towards the house.
‘NO!’ she screamed. ‘NOOO! This can’t be true!’
Her Bentley was coming up the driveway, with Matt behind the wheel. The car was weaving from side to side–it looked as if he’d smashed the front in.
Crazed with shock and grief, combined with fury, she yanked open the driver’s door.
Matt fell out, drenched in blood.
She stared at him in horror. ‘Oh, my God!’ she screamed. ‘You bastard! You killed Tony, didn’t you? OH, MY GOD!’
Word had spread that Shelby Cheney was on her way to New York. There were dozens of photographers and TV crews at the airport awaiting her arrival.
Shelby was silent as airline officials met her at the plane and shepherded her through the media crush. She’d already
arranged with Pete that they should not be seen together, and he’d promised to call her at the hospital. The last thing she needed was a photo of her with Pete. It would infuriate Linc even more.
She was escorted out to a limousine, where Linc’s publicist, Norm, was waiting for her. Norm got in the limo with her. ‘How is he?’ she asked, full of concern.
Norm shook his head, his expression gloomy. ‘It doesn’t look very good, Shelby.’
Silently she slumped in the seat, covering her eyes with her hands. ‘What happened, Norm? You have to tell me.’
‘The situation was out of control. Linc was hanging out with that model, Allegra. She was obviously a very negative influence.’
‘Where was he when he collapsed?’
‘At an after-hours club. They called an ambulance, but by the time they got him to the hospital he was in bad shape.’
‘And now?’ she asked, holding back tears. ‘How’s he doing now?’
‘I told you, not good. His sister’s at the hospital waiting for you.’
‘Will I be able to see him?’
‘It’s up to the doctors,’ Norm said, unable to look her in the eye. ‘I’m trying to control the press. They’ve turned it into a feeding frenzy. You can imagine.’
‘I’m sure,’ she said quietly.
‘The driver’s going to take us around to a back entrance. We’ll sneak you in that way.’
She nodded silently as the limo sped into the city.
‘When we get out of the car, put on your sunglasses and move fast,’ Norm instructed. ‘I’m sorry we have to do it this way. I’m sure there’ll be paparazzi staked out the back too, so be prepared. They know you’re coming.’
The price of fame. No more privacy. Everything was chronicled, it didn’t matter how painful.
‘We’re here,’ Norm said, as the limo finally pulled to a stop. ‘Head down and let’s go.’
She put on her dark glasses, pulled her jacket tightly around her, got out of the limo and made a run for it, with Norm holding her arm.
Two cops were waiting to assist her as a pack of journalists and photographers surged forward, yelling for a comment.
‘What do you have to say, Shelby?’
‘Are you and Linc separated?’
‘What do you think of Allegra?’
‘Are you and Linc getting a divorce?’
She made it into the hospital with the help of Norm and the two burly cops. ‘You okay, ma’am?’ one of them asked.
‘Yes, thank you,’ she managed, although she wasn’t okay at all. She felt numb and sick to her stomach.
‘He’s in intensive care,’ Norm said, hustling her into an elevator. ‘Connie is waiting in a private room.’
Connie was sitting on a couch with her girlfriend, Suki. They jumped up when Shelby entered.
Connie rushed over to her. ‘I’m sorry, Shelby,’ she muttered, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. ‘I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved him.’
‘What…happened?’ she asked, her throat dry with fear.
‘It was peaceful. It really was.’
‘WHAT WAS PEACEFUL?’ she heard herself scream.
‘Linc passed away ten minutes ago.’
Shelby felt her world spinning out of control.
And that was the last thing she remembered as she slumped to the floor in a deep faint.
Chapter Forty-Seven
There were two funerals taking place in Hollywood on the same day–both big events–causing people to wonder which they should attend.
Some people decided they should go to both, making it to the service of the first one and the reception of the second.
One funeral was a very serious affair.
The second was a celebration of a flamboyant life, and therefore, after the Catholic Church ceremony, there was a huge party–a request honoured from the deceased’s will.
Lola had buried her husband the day before. Matt Seel. Son of Pat and Martin Seel. Husband of Lola Sanchez. Murderer of Lola’s lover.
She’d attended the discreet service reluctantly, because everyone had said that if she didn’t show up it would reflect negatively on her. Like she cared. Matt had murdered the love of her life and she was empty inside. There would never be another man like Tony Alvarez. Never.
Her mother and Isabelle had flanked her, making sure the photographers could not get too close. And there were many photographers jostling for position.
Matt’s parents ignored her. They hated her. The feeling was mutual: she knew they’d never approved of her. Once Matt had confided that they’d told him he’d married the maid. Matt had thought it hysterically funny. She’d been mortified. Maybe it was then that she’d started to go off him.
After the service there was a reception at the Seels’ house. Lola chose not to go. Instead she had Big Jay drive her home, locked herself in her bedroom and sobbed for the man she’d loved, so brutally shot in the heart.
The last few days were surreal. First the news about Tony. Then Matt collapsing in her driveway with several fatal bullet wounds–he’d died on the way to the hospital. And finally Linc Blackwood passing away of a drug overdose in New York.
Christ! She’d known all three men in the Biblical sense. Had she bestowed some kind of horrible curse on them?
Her family rallied. Claudine even moved into her house to be with her for a while.
‘It’s not necessary, Mama,’ she’d said. But Claudine had insisted.
Now, as she attended Tony’s funeral, her entire family accompanied her.
Tony had a lot of friends in the Latin community. Some nodded in her direction, others ignored her.
The press had been brutal, making it seem as if everything was her fault–including Linc’s unfortunate demise. ‘SHE DROVE HER CO-STAR TO DRUGS’–screamed one tabloid. ‘FEMME FATALE,’ screamed another. ‘HUSBAND AND LOVER SHOT TO DEATH IN JEALOUS FEUD OVER SEXY LOLA,’ screamed a third.
She couldn’t win. She’d lost the love of her life, and the newspapers were blaming her. How unfair was that?
Tony’s widowed mother flew in from Cuba, where she’d settled with a new husband. The woman ignored Lola completely.
What is it with me and mothers? Lola thought. I haven’t done anything to them. All I did for Tony was love him more than anyone.
Maria was front and centre. A heartbroken fiancée, a sweet little innocent caught in a horrible Hollywood scandal.
Lola considered it so unfair that in death Tony did not belong to her but to a girl he’d barely known. A girl Lola was sure he’d not loved.
Two funerals in two days and Faye was urging her to go to the third. ‘If you don’t go to Linc Blackwood’s funeral,’ Faye assured her, ‘the tabloids will pull you to pieces.’
‘They already have,’ Lola said quietly. ‘It’s enough, Faye. I’m going home.’
After their boat trip on Lake Mead and an outrageous wedding celebration party for Amy and Jonas, pulled together by Nick, they got into his Maserati and set off for L.A.
‘This is the best time I’ve ever had with a girl,’ Nick said, as he raced his car down the highway on their way back to L.A.
‘Oh,’ Cat said jokingly. ‘So you’ve had better times with the boys, huh?’
He threw her a quizzical look. ‘Y’know, Cat, you’re very defensive. That’s usually my deal.’
‘Didn’t mean to be,’ she said. ‘I gotta admit I had a great time, too.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘Here,’ she said, fishing in her purse. ‘I bought the new Norah Jones CD for our drive home.’
‘That’s girl’s music.’
‘No, it’s not, it’s sexy music. She’s fantastic.’
‘I’ll listen to Norah Jones if you’ll listen to Fifty Cent.’
‘I can see I’m going to have to educate your music tastes,’ she said. ‘Aren’t you into old music?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like classic soul, stuff like that.’
&nb
sp; ‘Who has time?’
‘I suppose you don’t watch old movies either?’
‘Like I said, who has time?’
‘Did you ever see The Godfather, One and Two? Pulp Fiction? Scarface?’
‘Godfather One.’
‘Man! We have serious work to do.’
‘How old are you?’ he asked, shooting her a look.
‘You know how old I am. Why are you asking?’
‘’Cause every once in a while you sound like you’re forty.’
‘I’m wise way beyond my years,’ she said, her face quite serious. ‘Besides, after I dropped out of school, movies and music became my passion.’
‘When’s your birthday?’
‘Next month.’
‘Does that mean you’ll be legal?’
‘Legal for what?’
‘I dunno. You’re so young.’
‘I bet you’ve had younger,’ she remarked, popping the Norah Jones CD into the player.
‘Ah,’ he said with an evil laugh. ‘Already she knows me so well.’
‘So,’ she said casually, ‘when we get back to L.A., you can drop me at my apartment, and I’ll see you when I see you.’
‘It’s like that, huh?’
‘C’mon, Nick, we both know what this weekend was–casual fucking, right?’
‘Wrong.’
‘Wrong?’
‘Dunno about you, but I was thinkin’ I’d like to make it more.’
‘Please!’ she joked. ‘I’m a married woman.’
‘You’re about to be a divorced woman,’ he reminded her. ‘And when you finish editing our movie, you’re joining me on location.’
‘So I can watch you casually fucking your way through the entire female cast and crew?’ she said lightly.
‘Hey, I’m gonna behave myself. Whaddaya think of that?’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Yes, you do,’ he said briskly. ‘You’re a smart girl.’
‘Let me make sure I’m understanding you. Are you saying you want us to be exclusive?’
‘You got it. Hey–if I can do it, you can too.’
‘But I thought—’
‘I don’t give a crap what you thought,’ he said, reaching over to take her hand. ‘We’ve got something special going, so let’s not screw it up, huh?’
Hollywood Divorces • Hollywood Wives: The New Generation Page 86
