Lovers & Players

by Jackie Collins

  Bingo! Birdy never disappointed. ‘You’re kidding, right?’ He sighed.

  ‘No,’ she said, swigging Red Bull from the can.

  ‘You must be. Either that or you’re certifiable.’

  ‘S’cuse me?’ she said, widening her eyes.

  ‘You’re talking like a crazy girl. Surely you remember why you wanted the emancipation? We worked hard to see that you gained control of your money, and that’s the way it should stay.’

  ‘I get it, Chris,’ she said earnestly. ‘Only here’s the thing, Rocky’s so totally awesome.’

  ‘How long have you known him?’

  ‘A coupla months,’ she said, smiling dreamily.

  ‘It’s all fun now, but when you’re in a relationship, things change.’

  ‘Not with me an’ Rocky.’

  ‘I’m not saying you shouldn’t promise him anything. I can draw you up a document that’ll serve both of you and if Rocky doesn’t accept it, then you shouldn’t marry him.’

  ‘Oh, Chris,’ she responded, pouting, ‘you can be such a downer.’

  ‘I’m merely protecting you, Birdy,’ he said sternly. ‘Do you understand that if you guaranteed him a million per year for five years, and he left you after four and a half, the guy would walk away with five million of your hard-earned money? Do you really understand that?’

  ‘Don’t sweat it, Chris. Rocky and I will be together for, like, fifty years.’

  ‘Then there’s no problem, is there?’

  ‘I guess not,’ she said unsurely. ‘So can I get married this weekend?’

  ‘It’s not going to fly,’ he said, his mind racing. ‘New York marriage laws are different from California.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They just are.’

  ‘Man, I really wanna do this,’ she said, starting to sulk.

  ‘Have you considered Vegas?’ he said, formulating a plan.

  ‘I looove Vegas,’ she cooed, her face lighting up. ‘Vegas is hot!’

  ‘Good. Because if you do it in Vegas,’ he said, still thinking fast, ‘I can get you the presidential suite at the Magiriano, a big reception, and numerous other perks. Also, I’ll make a deal to sell exclusive wedding pictures to People or Us, or one of the tabloids, then you can give half of that money to Rocky, and if that doesn’t keep him happy—’

  ‘Oh, wow!’ she said, clapping her hands. ‘Can we do it next weekend?’

  ‘It might be possible,’ he said, thinking this would definitely get him off the hook with Roth Giagante, and that was a major plus, because if Birdy got married at Roth’s hotel it would mean millions of dollars’ worth of free publicity for the Magiriano, and there was no way Roth would object to that.

  ‘You’re the man, Chris,’ Birdy squealed, jumping up and throwing her arms round him. ‘We’re such an awesome team. I’m totally psyched you’re my lawyer.’

  ‘So am I. But remember, I’m the one who thinks for you and all you have to do is perform.’ She nodded enthusiastically. ‘Now, about this pregnancy thing,’ he continued. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ she answered vaguely. ‘I’m late but, y’ know, whenever I’m on the road I’m always late.’

  ‘You are?’

  ‘Rocky says it would be like totally amazing if we had a baby.’

  Of course Rocky would say that: Rocky was out to secure his position with one of the biggest earners in show business.

  ‘Has he got kids with anyone else?’ Chris asked, deciding he’d better do some heavy detective work before this joke of a relationship went any further.

  ‘Man!’ Birdy yelled excitedly. ‘I swear you’re a freakin’ psychic! How’dja know?’

  ‘A wild guess,’ he answered calmly. ‘How many?’

  ‘One little boy. But, y’ know, I totally get off on kids, so I’ll take care of it too.’

  ‘You will, huh?’

  ‘Course.’

  ‘Pay all its bills? Pay for Rocky’s ex-girlfriend?’

  ‘Wife,’ she corrected, draining the can of Red Bull and tossing the empty can onto the floor.

  ‘Wife?’ Chris said, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘Ex-wife,’ she said casually, like it was a minor detail.

  ‘You’ve seen the divorce papers?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Get them, Birdy. I can’t arrange anything before I see them.’

  ‘Oh, Chris,’ she pouted like a little girl, ‘now you’re spoiling everything.’

  ‘No, Birdy,’ he answered sternly. ‘I’m simply making sure nobody hurts you, and don’t you forget it.’

  And that’s why they pay me the big bucks, he thought, with a certain amount of satisfaction. For saving their asses, not to mention their money.

  What could he do to shut Vladimir Bushkin up once and for all? Max knew he had a major problem on his hands, and money wasn’t about to solve it. Of course, he could hand over more cash, but it was a given that Vladimir would soon be back for more.

  Or he could threaten deportation, and in return Vladimir would sell his dirty little story to the tabloids.

  Or he could what? What the fuck could he do? This wasn’t some Hollywood movie where he could take a hit out on the blackmailing Russian low-life. Those things didn’t happen in real life.

  Or did they?

  Of course they did. It was naïve to think otherwise.

  What would Red Diamond do? Big Red, as he’d been called by his cronies and hangers-on. Big Red, would think nothing of crushing Vladimir like a bug.

  Max remembered fragments of conversations he’d heard while he was growing up about how Red had dealt with anyone who got in his way. Apparently he’d left a trail of shattered lives and broken men in his wake, and never given it a second thought.

  Yes, Red Diamond would know how to deal with a roach like Vladimir Bushkin, no doubt about that.

  But Max was at a loss. Even if he considered putting a hit out on the blackmailing Russian, how would he go about it?

  Listen to yourself, he thought. Thinking about arranging for someone to be killed. This is pure insanity.

  It was all Mariska’s fault, the duplicitous, scheming bitch! Mariska. Mother of his child. And shouldn’t he be getting a DNA test to make sure he was Lulu’s father, although he loved the little girl. If it turned out she wasn’t his, he would be devastated.

  And yet he had his future to think about, and his future was Amy, the lovely Amy. If she knew about this sordid mess with Vladimir and Mariska she would be disgusted. He hadn’t even told her about his problems with the banks, and he should, because at any moment the news was going to break and it would be all over the financial pages. He had his enemies too, and they would like nothing better than to see him fail. He was, after all, Red Diamond’s son.

  He glanced at his watch and realized it was almost time to collect Lulu and take her for tea.

  The thought of seeing Mariska filled him with a deep-seated loathing. He wanted to shake the truth out of her, which wouldn’t do any good because even if he confronted her with Vladimir’s story she was bound to lie. It was her way.

  Then it occurred to him that perhaps she was the one who should deal with Vladimir. After all, she had just as much to lose if the story came out. She would be exposed and humiliated: her social life in New York would be over, and that was all Mariska had ever cared about–her damn social position.

  Yes, this might be the answer.

  He’d told the Russian to come back next week. ‘I’ll have the cash for you,’ he’d promised. ‘Do not do anything foolish.’

  Which left him a short time to think about how he was going to handle the situation.

  It would have been a lot easier if he hadn’t had a bachelor party to attend, a crucial meeting with the Japanese bankers who were flying in to see him, and an upcoming wedding.

  But things were never easy. That was one of the few lessons he’d learned from Red.

  Jett left Birdy Marvel’s hotel and immediately got on
his cell, trying Beverly’s number again. This time she picked up. ‘Where have you been?’ he said accusingly. ‘I left messages this morning.’

  ‘You disappeared last night, and where have I been?’ Beverly said. ‘You’re somethin’, Jett.’

  ‘Hey, listen, Bev, I need a favour.’

  ‘Then quit with the pissy attitude.’

  ‘The girl I left with last night, who is she?’

  ‘I didn’t see you with a girl.’

  ‘Yes, you did, you saw me talking to her, then we were dancing and I left with her. Now I need to know who she is.’

  ‘Uh…excuse me,’ Beverly said. ‘You left with a girl, and I’m supposed to find out who she is? Ever heard of exchanging names? It helps, y’ know.’

  ‘Hey, just be happy that I’m back, sober, an’ maybe–just maybe–in love.’

  ‘Mr Romance strikes again! One thing about you, Jett, you’re an original, but then you always were. Sober, not sober, fucked-up, straight.’

  ‘Thanks. I think.’

  ‘By the way, shouldn’t you be attending a meeting while you’re in town?’

  ‘Gimme a break, Bev’ he groaned. ‘I only just got here.’

  ‘I can direct you to meetings crammed with gorgeous girls–all the hot models are in cocaine rehab. You’ll feel right at home.’

  ‘Sure,’ he said, with a dry laugh. ‘That’s exactly what I need, a dysfunctional hook-up with an ex-stoner model. Can’t wait!’

  ‘I can think of worse things.’

  ‘Not interested. Just find me the girl’s name and call me back.’

  ‘For you I’ll try.’

  ‘Try hard, it’s important.’

  He took a cab back to Sam’s apartment. The maid had not been in, and the bed was as he’d left it, in the same tangled mess. He sat down on the edge, noticing that the sheets smelt of sex and his mystery girl’s scent. It was a heady combination.

  Jeez! He hadn’t felt this way since he was a teenager and got laid for the first time by one of his mother’s friends. Talk about excited!

  There was no doubt in his mind that he had to find her, and he needed to do so before Gianna arrived in town, because that would only complicate matters.

  It was definitely decision time. Should he stay with the Italian supermodel and all she had to offer? Or should he start taking chances, allow himself to fall in love and go for a new start?

  It would be so much easier if he had financial security. And maybe…on Monday…the old man would finally come through.

  Goodbye, Gianna.

  Hello…who?

  With Beverly’s help he’d soon find out.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cindi turned up unexpectedly in the early afternoon, and announced that she’d taken the rest of the day off work. Clad in an orange velour tracksuit that emphasized her large curves, she was grinning as if she’d just discovered she’d won the lottery.

  ‘How come you’re taking time off?’ Liberty asked, still shaken by her earlier conversation with her mom and the shockingly sad revelations about her father.

  ‘Told Manny I had a fearful pain in my gut, an’ he didn’t argue ’cause biz was kinda slow, an’, girl–I am one fine actress,’ Cindi boasted, grabbing a handful of nuts from a dish on the table and stuffing them in to her mouth.

  ‘But with me out an’ all—’

  ‘Chill, we still got jobs–that’s if we wanna keep ’em.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t we?’ Liberty said, frowning. ‘You know we need the money. We’re way late on all our bills.’

  ‘’Cause,’ Cindi announced triumphantly, ‘I have scored me a two-day gig dancin’ in a music video.’

  ‘No shit?’

  ‘Yup, an’ I’m gettin’ paid three hundred a day, an’ we start shootin’ tomorrow.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s an all-weekend shoot, so now I gotta go get me a costume fittin’. But first I had to stop by an’ give you the news. It’s something’, huh?’

  ‘It sure is. How did it happen?’

  ‘These two guys came in an’ I served ’em coffee. Before I can flip a coin, they’re eyeballin’ me big-time. Then they’re tellin’ me I’m ’xactly the kind of girl they’re lookin’ for to be in Slick Jimmy’s music video.’

  ‘What two guys? And who’s Slick Jimmy?’

  ‘One’s the producer, not sure ’bout the other dude. Slick Jimmy’s a rapper. Word is, he’s droppin’ a hot CD single. This is his first music video, an’, girl, I am in it!’

  ‘Did you happen to mention you’re a singer, not a professional dancer?’

  ‘Hey, little cous’, I got my moves,’ Cindi boasted, smoothing down her orange top, her enormous boobs straining the material. ‘An’ they’re not lookin’ for pros, so quit with the questions an’ be down with it. I’m gonna be on Tee Vee. People’ll see me. It’ll run on MTV, VH1, everywhere!’

  Liberty tried her best to look enthusiastic even though she didn’t quite get it. Although Cindi was pretty, she was also extremely large. Big, bountiful breasts, solid rolls of flesh around her middle, and an ass that made J-Lo look positively skinny. Think Queen Latifah and Carnie Wilson before their major weight loss.

  ‘What kind of outfit you get to wear?’ she asked, trying not to be envious.

  ‘These dudes told me the video’s set in 1920s Chicago, so it’s a nightclubby kinda deal. Hmm…I’m seein’ somethin’ slinky an’ way sexy, ’cause this girl’s got plenty to show off.’

  ‘It’s–it’s great. I’m so happy for you.’

  ‘You bet your ass it’s great–for both of us, ’cause if you feel okay, I’m takin’ you with me. Mebbe when they see you they’ll put you in the video too.’

  ‘Oh, sure!’ Liberty said drily. ‘A limpin’ gimp with a burned-up arm. That’ll really get ’em goin’!’

  ‘How are you feelin’?’ Cindi asked. ‘Here I am, carryin’ on ’bout myself, an’ you’re sittin’ here all down an’ low.’

  ‘Believe me,’ Liberty said fervently, ‘I am so ready to get outta here.’

  ‘Your mama bin in your bizness?’ Cindi asked, helping herself to another handful of nuts.

  ‘No, I’ve been into hers and now I can’t wait to leave.’

  ‘You’re supposed t’ be restin’ up.’

  ‘No way. I’m coming with to your costume thing, and then back to our place. I can’t stay here. This house is makin’ me crazy. I hate everything about it.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you tell your mom you’re leavin’?’

  ‘I don’t have to tell her anything.’

  ‘Where is she anyway?’ Cindi asked.

  ‘Where do you think? Runnin’ around after Mr D, probably wiping his wrinkled old ass. You know what, Cindi? She’s that old dude’s freakin’ slave. I can’t take the way she caters to him like he’s some kind of king. It stinks.’

  ‘Oh, Lordy,’ Cindi sighed, waving her hands in the air, ‘nothin’ ever changes around here. You two ain’t never gonna get along.’

  ‘Let’s not get into it now,’ Liberty said, gathering together her things. ‘We should split before she comes back.’

  ‘How about leavin’ her a note?’

  ‘No, Cindi.’

  ‘You sure you can walk?’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll manage.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I say so,’ Liberty said, hobbling to the door.

  If there was one thing she was sure of, she needed to get away from her mother and she needed to get away fast.

  The costume-fitting place was on the fifth floor of an old building in the middle of the garment district. The elevator was so small they barely both squeezed into it.

  ‘This is a trip!’ Cindi said enthusiastically. ‘Better than fillin’ coffee cups all day an’ shovin’ yesterday’s pie at a buncha ungrateful customers.’

  ‘They’re not all bad,’ Liberty said, thinking of Damon P. Donnell.

  Cindi took a small hand mirror out of
her purse and studied her face. ‘How you feelin’ now?’ she asked, licking her generous lips. ‘Anythin’ hurtin’?’

  ‘I’m good,’ Liberty said. Later, when they got home, she’d tell Cindi everything. Right now was not the time. Besides, she needed to fully absorb it herself.

  ‘You sure you’re walkin’ okay?’ Cindi asked, still enamoured with her reflection.

  ‘Who’s walking? I’m standing in an elevator getting crushed to death by your tits.’

  Cindi giggled. ‘It’s my fine tits got me this gig.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘I ain’t dumb, girl. I’ve seen plenty of rap videos. They’re gonna want me to kinda, uh…jiggle ’em. Like you said, it’s not as if I’m a professional dancer.’

  ‘And you’re okay with that?’

  ‘Honey, if they’re stupid enough to pay me, I’ll stand on my head an’ whistle “The Star Spangled Banner”!’

  At the costume place they were greeted by Fantasia, a tall, ultra-thin black woman with an extreme Afro and a chiselled face. ‘You girls here for the video?’ Fantasia asked, checking them over.

  ‘’S right,’ Cindi said. ‘I’m the one who’s in it, an’ this here is my cousin.’

  ‘Follow me, ladies.’

  Cindi shot Liberty an excited look as they moved through the crowded space, squeezing past racks of hanging clothes.

  Standing around in various stages of undress were several other large black girls. Oh, now I get it, Liberty thought. This is a big girls’ video, the bigger the better. No surprise they’d chosen Cindi.

  The outfit Fantasia handed to Cindi was not slinky and sexy, it consisted of a bejewelled bra and a brief pair of matching hot pants.

  ‘You gotta be shittin’ me!’ Cindi exclaimed, holding up the hot pants with an incredulous look. ‘There’s no freakin’ way I can squeeze my booty into this itty-bitty thing. My stuff’s gonna be in your face an’ then some.’

  ‘That’s what they’re lookin’ for, hon,’ said Fantasia, ushering her towards a curtained cubicle. ‘Put it on an’ let’s see how it fits.’

  ‘I can’t show everything,’ Cindi protested, hesitating before getting undressed.

  ‘Everybody else does.’