Lovers & Players

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Lovers & Players Page 25

by Jackie Collins


  As soon as Nancy found out, she was livid. ‘You cannot leave your own rehearsal dinner,’ she fumed. ‘I will not allow it.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Amy yelled, as she assisted Tina past the main table. ‘This is my best friend and she needs me.’

  ‘Go!’ Max said encouragingly. ‘I know how important this is to you, sweetie. Take the car–my driver’s downstairs.’

  Oh, great! Now he was being understanding and selfless. She wished he would scream and act like a man betrayed. She deserved it. Only he couldn’t do that, could he? Because he didn’t know.

  She caught another brief glimpse of Jett. He was staring at her. She pretended not to notice.

  ‘Stop!’ Tina yelled, as they reached the door. ‘I think my waters are breaking.’

  ‘Oh, my God!’ exclaimed Brad, starting to panic. ‘You can’t give birth to our baby here!’

  ‘I’ll have our baby wherever I damn well please!’ shouted Tina. ‘Go find the car, you idiot. Don’t you understand? WE’RE HAVING A BABY!’

  So that was it. There one minute. Gone the next. And he hadn’t even had a chance to say a word to her.

  Amy Scott-Simon.

  He knew her name.

  A rich girl, so her mother’s best friend–a skeleton on stick legs in an Oscar de la Renta fancy suit–had informed him. ‘When Grandma goes, the will bypasses Nancy and Amy inherits everything,’ the woman had confided in a stage-whisper. ‘We’re all so happy that Max is obviously not a fortune-hunter. They make a delightful couple, don’t you agree?’

  No. He didn’t agree. Max was too old for her. And who gave a fast crap if she had money or not?

  He’d fallen for a girl. A girl without a name or pedigree. An incredible girl with soft golden hair, an amazing body and the face of an angel. And there was nothing he could do about it except sit back and watch.

  Max was beaming, even though Amy had run off with her pregnant friend–which proved she was a loyal and decent person. Birth of best friend’s baby before rehearsal dinner. Good for her.

  Amy Scott-Simon.

  Even her name had a ring to it.

  Gianna was swigging champagne like it was going out of style. She enjoyed being the centre of attention. Max was obviously enjoying her, too, as she laughed and flirted with him. Jett was well aware that it was just Gianna’s affectionate Italian way–she was a very touchy-feely person, who got her kicks telling men how handsome and virile they were, making them feel good about themselves. And if they fell in love with her, all the better.

  Lulu had decided he was her favourite uncle and kept crawling onto his knee and locking her arms round his neck. He didn’t object–she was so cute.

  ‘Can Lulu come live with you?’ she asked, all bright eyes and puffy lips.

  ‘No, baby, you have a daddy and a mommy,’ he said, somewhat distracted. ‘You’re very happy at home.’

  ‘Not happy,’ she said, vigorously shaking her head.

  ‘Huh?’ he said vaguely.

  ‘My mommy’s divorcing my daddy ’cause he doesn’t like her,’ Lulu said, blinking several times. ‘That makes Lulu sad.’

  ‘Hey, sugar cake, I’m sure it’s not as simple as that.’

  ‘Tis,’ Lulu said stubbornly. ‘Daddy likes stupid Amy.’

  ‘Don’t say that about Amy.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked, pulling a face. ‘Mommy says it.’

  ‘’Cause it’s not true. Amy’s a great girl.’

  ‘No,’ Lulu cried. ‘Amy stupid! Stupid! Stupid!’

  The skeleton decided to find out more about Jett. ‘And what do you do?’ she asked, tapping talon-like fingernails on the table. ‘Are you in the same business as your brother?’

  ‘No, I’m uh…’ He knew that once he said he was a male model she would dismiss him on the spot. ‘I…I kinda work in fashion.’

  ‘How divine,’ she gushed. ‘Valentino is a dear friend. I adore his clothes, don’t you?’

  It was obvious that now she assumed he was gay.

  He wondered if he could sneak a drink without Chris noticing. Then the voice of his sponsor in Italy came back to haunt him. Remember, booze doesn’t solve anything. It only makes things worse.

  ‘Chris,’ he said, touching his brother’s shoulder, ‘I gotta get out of here. I can’t take much more of this.’

  ‘Don’t blame you,’ Chris responded.

  ‘Uh…before I go, I wanted to thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I talked to Edie earlier. She let it slip that it was you who sponsored my trip to Italy and got me out of the crap-hole I was in. I always thought it was Sam. You did me a big favour, ’cause I don’t know how many more ledges I would’ve stood on, thinking, Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to fly. You saved me finding out.’

  ‘No need to thank me,’ Chris said, slightly embarrassed. ‘You’re my kid brother. We share a father, bad as he might be.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Jett laughed ruefully. ‘We grew up with the same beatings and the same favourite rants–“You’re useless, you’re ugly, you’re dumb, you’ll never amount to anything.” ’

  ‘I remember all of them,’ Chris said. ‘It’s amazing we survived.’

  ‘Well, we did, so fuck him.’

  ‘Now I’m wondering what the old bastard’s going to say in the morning.’

  ‘Who gives a shit?’ Jett said. ‘At least we got to hang out this weekend.’

  ‘Makes this trip worth it for me,’ Chris agreed. ‘And tomorrow I’ll tell you about my problems.’

  ‘You got problems too?’

  ‘Major.’

  ‘Wanna share?’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Go ahead,’ Jett said, thinking they couldn’t be any worse than his.

  ‘Well…I have one famous client who thinks the public is about to discover he’s gay, another client who’s all set to marry some low-down wife-beater–and, here’s the real kicker, I lost my house.’

  ‘What do you mean, you lost your house?’

  ‘You were right about the storms in L.A. People are getting killed, mudslides, floods, it’s a real mess.’

  ‘You lost your fucking house, and you’re only telling me now?’

  ‘Nothing you could do.’

  ‘Except be there for you.’

  ‘And you are.’

  ‘No, I’m not. I’m busy bitching about my life, while you lost your house. I’m sorry, man, I really am.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Chris said ruefully. ‘I’m kinda sorry myself. But, hey, keeps you grounded.’

  ‘You sure there’s nothing I can do?’

  ‘We should get together for an early breakfast before we meet Red tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m there,’ Jett said. ‘Your hotel?’

  Chris nodded. ‘And for now, what can I say? We’ll talk about everything in the morning.’

  ‘Thanks, bro’,’ Jett said, leaning over to tap Gianna on her shoulder. ‘We’re outta here.’

  ‘Why we leave?’ she asked, turning to him with a disappointed expression. Attention was like an aphrodisiac to the Italian supermodel, and tonight she was basking in it.

  ‘Cause it’s late, an’ you’re on a different time zone.”

  ‘No, carino, we stay,’ she said firmly. ‘Your brother, he need us. We cannot desert him.’

  Oh, yeah–this was all he needed, the bonding of Gianna and Max. One big happy family. Great!

  ‘We can’t, huh?’ he said wearily.

  Why the fuck not?

  And while the rehearsal dinner was taking place, and Red had still not returned home, Lady Jane opened his safe. She studied his will and several other private documents. Red’s Will was dated six months previously, and witnessed by two of his top executives.

  She read everything and the colour drained from her face.

  Red Diamond was even more of a devious bastard than even she’d imagined.

  The information she discovered was quite unbelievable, and yet…she should have known.

  Damn h
im. Damn him to hell and back.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The girls were working hard, Cindi still shaking her ass, Liberty draping herself over Slick Jimmy for the cameras.

  It wasn’t as easy as it looked. Slick Jimmy was not a polished lip-syncher so they had to keep repeating take after take until he got it right. He’d also stopped talking to Liberty because, in his eyes, she wasn’t being respectful to his music.

  As if she cared. She had an appointment to play her demo for Damon. Nothing could be better than that.

  ‘We scored an invite to the wrap party,’ Cindi confided, during one of the numerous breaks.

  ‘I thought we were dropping by your mom’s.’

  ‘Mom’s first, party later,’ Cindi said, with a big grin. ‘It’s gonna be a happenin’!’

  ‘I’m not in the mood for a party,’ Liberty said.

  ‘Oh, c’mon,’ Cindi scolded. ‘Tomorrow it’s back to real work, an’ all this’ll seem like a freakin’ dream. So tonight we’re gettin’ down, girl, make no mistake.’

  Liberty frowned. She had no desire to get down. Thinking about returning to her job at the coffee shop was depressing enough. How could she possibly waitress for Damon now? It didn’t seem right. ‘I’m not going in to work tomorrow,’ she informed Cindi.

  ‘How come?’

  ‘’Cause I’m not ready.’

  ‘Oh, I get why you don’t wanna come in,’ Cindi taunted knowingly. ‘’Cause of Mr Bigshot Damon himself.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘I’m tellin’ you, girl, you’d better remember that workin’ in the coffee shop is what we do. It’s real. This shit ain’t.’

  ‘You seem to forget I was hurt on the job,’ Liberty reminded her. ‘That means I can take a couple of days off. They should understand.’

  ‘Okay,’ Cindi sighed, ‘I’ll cover for you, but only if you come to the party tonight.’

  ‘Where is it anyway?’

  ‘Slick Jimmy’s place.’

  ‘Oh,’ Liberty drawled sarcastically. ‘Now I’m really tempted.’

  ‘Chill, girl,’ Cindi said cheerfully. ‘Take away the baggy clothes an’ Slick Jimmy could be one sexy-lookin’ dude. Believe big momma, I know sexy.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Liberty said drily. ‘Two legs an’ a dick, you’ll find anything sexy.’

  ‘That’s rude, girl.’

  ‘No, it’s truthful.’

  ‘He could turn out to be a big star, an’ I could be Mrs Slick Jimmy,’ Cindi said. Then, lowering her voice, she added, ‘I didn’t tell you this, but he’s bin doggin’ me for my number. The dude is ready t’ rock, an’ so am I.’

  ‘Get real, Cindi. He’s coming onto every girl on the set.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Cindi said, unfazed. ‘Only those skanks ain’t me. When it comes to guys, I got a little somethin’ somethin’ that gets their blood boilin’ an’ their engine racin’.’

  ‘Sure you do. It’s called a pussy.’

  ‘That’s right!’ Cindi said, laughing. ‘An’ if I have anythin’ t’ do with it, tonight it’s gonna be a workin’ pussy!’

  Liberty loved her cousin, but the two of them were on such different tracks. To Cindi, it was all about getting laid and partying. To Liberty, it was allowing her talent to shine and working hard on her music. The last thing she needed was to be partying at Slick Jimmy’s.

  Later, she cornered Beverly. ‘Did you mean it when you mentioned you could get me in to see a modelling agent?’

  ‘I certainly did,’ Beverly said, packing her brushes and make-up equipment into a large Fendi carry-all bag. ‘Why? You takin’ me up on it?’

  ‘I’d like to,’ Liberty said hesitantly. ‘I mean, if you really think I’ve got what it takes.’

  ‘Don’t be screwin’ with me,’ Beverly warned. ‘If I start hookin’ you up, you gotta be serious.’

  ‘I am,’ Liberty assured her.

  ‘Then let’s do it. I’ll call a friend of mine an’ set somethin’ up.’

  ‘Honestly?’

  ‘Done deal, babe. They’re gonna love you.’

  Any excuse and Aretha took to her kitchen, cooking up a storm to celebrate her daughter’s appearance in a video shoot. She was busy preparing fried chicken, sweet potatoes, monkey bread, hot rolls, cookies and cakes.

  Earlier Cindi had called to inform her that Liberty was also in the video. Aretha had immediately invited Diahann to join them.

  When the girls arrived, the table was groaning with Aretha’s culinary delights.

  Liberty was tired, her arm hurt and so did her ankle. All she really wanted to do was go home and start concentrating on her meeting with Damon. What should she wear? How should she act? And, even more important, would he like her music?

  Then her mother walked out of the kitchen and she was furious. She’d told Cindi she didn’t want to see her. The problem with Cindi was that she never listened. As long as the prospect of getting laid was on her mind, she was unable to concentrate.

  ‘So, girls,’ Diahann said, ‘I want to hear all about this video shoot. It sounds exciting.’

  Cindi started filling her in, while Liberty retreated to the kitchen and helped Aretha place crispy pieces of fried chicken on a large platter.

  ‘Put the dish in the centre of the table,’ Aretha instructed her, when they had finished. ‘Then get everyone to sit down. It’s time to eat.’

  ‘Anyone else coming?’ Liberty asked. ‘You’ve made enough food for the whole neighbourhood.’

  ‘Only us, sweet girl,’ Aretha said, chuckling. ‘It’s family night. You an’ Cindi can take food home for tomorrow. I know you girls never got nothin’ to eat at your place.’

  ‘We do,’ Liberty objected.

  ‘No, honey, you don’t, but that’s fine, s’ long as I feed you plenty here.’

  ‘You certainly do that.’

  ‘I understand you an’ your mama had a little talk,’ Aretha said, pausing to give Liberty a long, penetrating look.

  ‘Who told you? Cindi?’

  ‘No, for once it wasn’t my Cindi. It was your mama herself.’

  ‘And you believe everything she said?’

  ‘’Bout what?’

  ‘Germany, and my daddy being dead, an’ there’s no way I can contact his family.’

  ‘If that’s what she says, sweet thing,’ Aretha answered gently. ‘She’d have no reason to lie ’bout somethin’ so important, now, would she?’

  ‘I guess not.’

  ‘Y’ know, your mama feels real bad, so mebbe you should tell her that everythin’s all right between the two of you.’

  But it’s not! Liberty wanted to scream. It’s not all right at all. I want a father just like everyone else. ‘Sure,’ she said listlessly.

  Aretha gave her a great big hug. ‘That’s my girl. That’s my little Libby.’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  As she sat in Tina’s hospital room, holding her friend’s hand, Amy tried to put everything in perspective. She was well aware that she’d made a mistake–a huge mistake. She’d had a one-night fling with a stranger who’d turned out to be not such a stranger after all.

  Max’s brother. His younger half-brother, who, from what she’d gleaned listening to the conversation at the table, had been living in Italy for the past three years. With Gianna, the gorgeous woman who’d had every man at the party completely entranced. And–extra bonus–he was an ex-druggie.

  Yippee! How much better could it get?

  ‘Fuck!’ Amy muttered, under her breath. She didn’t usually swear, but this seemed like the perfect occasion to do so.

  ‘Whassamatter?’ mumbled Tina, who for the past twenty minutes had seemed quite calm and peaceful. In the car on their way to the hospital she had spent twenty minutes howling frantically, and in the waiting hall she’d yelled, ‘GET ME MY FUCKING EPIDURAL!’ at full volume, and kicked Brad in the balls.

  Well, she’d had her epidural now, and she was quite composed, lying there in a tranquil st
ate.

  A shaken Brad had gone to get coffee.

  ‘I feel amazing!’ Tina said dreamily. ‘Like I’m floating in the middle of the ocean on one of those rubber thingies.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ Amy said. ‘Drugs’ll do it every time.’

  ‘Sorry about your party.’

  ‘Don’t be. It wasn’t exactly going as I expected.’

  ‘Hmmm…’ Tina murmured, not at all interested. ‘Baby out soon. Tina thin again. New Jimmy Choos and Tiffany baubles. Tell Brad Tiffany’s, not Fortunoff. Sometimes he doesn’t quite get it.’ She closed her eyes, a smile hovering round her lips. ‘I feel so peaceful…’

  Much as she wanted to, Amy realized that this was neither the time nor the place to advise her best friend of the ‘situation’ she was caught in. Tina would probably listen without really hearing, smile and flip her the peace sign.

  Tina’s obstetrician had been and gone, promising to return shortly.

  ‘I’m having a baby,’ Tina murmured, patting her over-extended stomach. ‘Isn’t that something?’

  ‘It sure is,’ Amy agreed, squeezing her hand.

  ‘A little Brad.’ Tina giggled.

  ‘Not so little,’ Amy corrected. ‘Your OB says this baby’s going to be a big one.’

  ‘Brad’ll like that,’ Tina said, closing her eyes. ‘Brad’ll be such a proud papa…’ And she drifted off into a happy half-sleep.

  Two hours later Brad junior was born, all eight pounds, six ounces of him.

  The birth was effortless. A few pushes and the baby’s curly black head entered the world. Amy decided that whoever had invented epidurals was a major genius.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Tina gasped, as a nurse wrapped the baby in a blanket and handed him to her. ‘This is a miracle!’

  In the room for the entire delivery, Amy and Brad had clutched each other, in awe at how smoothly everything went.

  ‘Congratulations,’ Amy whispered to Brad. ‘And now it’s time I left you three alone.’

  ‘Thanks for everything,’ Brad said, hugging her tightly. ‘I’m sorry you had to miss your party. We all are.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Seeing little Brad junior enter the world was better than any party.’

 

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