“Fuck you!”, he screamed, losing it altogether. “Do I look like I’m drinking?”
Yes, you do. Your eyes are bloodshot, your skin is blotchy, and you look horrible.
She was silent. His rages could get out of control. He’d never hit her, but Brenda had warned her that it could happen one day.
“If I was drinking, which I’m fuckin’ not, you would’ve driven me to it,” he said, giving her a hate-filled glare.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Here’s what you’re gonna do,” he said, his voice rising again. “You’re gonna walk off the goddamn movie.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Call L.A., tell ’em you’re not coming back.”
“That’s impossible,” she protested. “I’ve already shot several days.”
“Do it, Shelby,” he said harshly. “Or get the fuck outta my life.”
“You’re being unreasonable.”
“I’m being unreasonable?” he yelled. “Screw you.”
“Linc,” she said, close to tears, “if I walk off the movie, it’ll ruin my career.”
“Then don’t walk,” he said, his eyes glittering feverishly. “Tell ’em they have to fire Pete. And they’d better do it right now.”
“What?”
“That’s the way it’s gonna be. Either you walk, or he gets booted.” Another ominous beat. “Am I making myself clear?”
CHAPTER
* * *
28
Lola was well aware that every man in the Latin supper club was lusting after her as she sensuously danced with one of the professional dancers who were on hand to accommodate the patrons.
Tony was sitting back in a leopard-print booth with his cronies, swigging champagne, while enjoying the show. She couldn’t help noticing that several women were paying plenty of attention to him. It didn’t bother her. He was hers, all hers.
She swiveled her hips to the salsa sound, feeling sexy, hot, and totally satisfied. Her body writhed to the pulsating beat of the music. She was controlled, yet out of control at the same time. I should’ve been a dancer; she thought. I’ve got it down.
Tony waved. He was laughing, having a great time as he watched her dance just for him.
Then into the club walked Tyrell White, an ex-world champion heavyweight boxer. Tyrell spotted her immediately; they’d met briefly once. Enough for him to come over and attempt to join her on the dance floor.
Shoving the professional dancer out of the way, he began grinding his crotch into hers.
Before she had time to react, Tony was on his feet, forcing his way through the other dancers until he reached her.
“Back off, jackass,” Tony yelled, his eyes dark and dangerous. “This is my lady.”
“She ain’t nobody’s lady,” Tyrell sneered, “She’s a piece a ass, an’ I’m dancin’ with it.”
Tony hauled back and slugged Tyrell, who immediately retaliated with a right hook that sent Tony flying to the ground.
Lola started screaming at Tyrell, and within seconds a general fight broke out.
Tony’s bodyguards were quick to grab him, hustling him out of the club. Big Jay was right beside them. He lifted Lola up as if she were a rag doll, spiriting her from the club.
Once outside, they all piled into Tony’s limo, while the flashbulbs popped. The car shot away from the curb, tires squealing.
Tony was angry and cursing, his lip gushing blood. “I’m gonna kill that sonofabitch,” he shouted, as Lola attempted to tend to him. “You hear me? I’m gonna kill that dumb mothafucker. Nobody messes with. Tony Alvarez’s woman. Nobody!”
“Calm down.” Lola said soothingly. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”
“Didn’t mean what?” Tony screamed.
“Maybe he thought I was alone.”
“Jesus holy Christ! Whose side are you on?” He shoved her away, snatched a wad of Kleenex, : and pressed it to his split lip, “That prick’s gonna regret he was ever born. You fuckin’ hear me?”
“Forget about it,” Lola said. “It’s over.”
“Yeah”, Tony growled, “you’ll see how over it is.”
• • •
Cat had a choice. She could go back to her apartment alone and work, she could hang out with Jonas, or she could join Nick and his friends at Ago.
She was still reeling from the information Luanne had told her over the phone, It meant that even before she’d caught Jump, in Australia, he’d been, screwing around. Maybe he’d been, doing it throughout their entire marriage. What a depressing thought that was.
It was crazy the way you could live with someone and not really know them at all. She’d always thought Jump was a straight-up kind of guy, even though he was a rock V roller. She hadn’t imagined, him poking every skanky groupie who passed his way like the rest of his band. How naive was she?
By the time she called “Cut” for the last time that day, it was late. When Jonas caught her on her way out. and asked her if she was up to grabbing, a bite, she said no. But on the drive home, after listening to several tracks of an Eminem CD, she soon began feeling energized.
There was no food in her apartment, and she had to eat, didn’t she? So instead of driving-home, she headed for Ago, deciding she’d have a quick snack.
Nick wasn’t there when she arrived. The maître d’ escorted her to his regular corner table on the outdoor patio.
Some of the faces at the table were familiar, plus a few new ones she didn’t know.
A pretty, dark-haired girl wearing huge, owl-like glasses and what appeared to be painter’s overalls extended her hand, “I’m Amy,” she said, “And you are?”
“Cat Harrison,”
“Oh yeah, you’re the girl who’s directing Nick’s movie, right?”
Cat nodded.
“Nick was talking about you the other day,” Amy said, “Mentioned you were hot, forgot to mention you were so young,”
“Said I was hot, did he?” Cat said, quite amused.
“Hey—we all know Nick. If it walks and breathes, he thinks it’s hot.”
“What time does he usually get here?” Cat asked, keeping it casual. “ ’Cause I gotta eat and run.”
“It depends.”
“What do you do?” Cat asked, wondering if Amy was one of his army of girlfriends.
“Comedian—stand-up,” Amy said. “Y’know, I like to get up there in front of an attentive audience and piss men off.” She giggled. “You should see their faces when I talk about the size of their dicks and all that shit.”
“Sounds like I should come see you,” said Cat.
“Feel free, I’m at the Improv next week. Nick’s putting together a group, maybe you’ll tag along.”
“Yeah,” Cat said, nodding. “I might do that.”
By the time Nick arrived, she’d already eaten and was ready to leave. He turned up accompanied by a busty bleached blonde in a tight pink minidress, who looked like she’d recently made a daring escape from the Playboy mansion.
“What the hell is that?” Amy muttered.
“I see you’ve got a new one tonight,” Cat remarked, standing up.
“Makes a change,” Nick said, running his hands through his unkempt hair. “Where’re you off to?”
“I ate, had fun—good night.”
“Is that it?” he said, looking perplexed.
“That’s it,’; she said, checking out his date one more time.
“Meet Mindy,” he said, putting his arm around the girl in the pink leather dress and squeezing tight. “Mindy’s an old friend. Used to be a stripper at Scores in New York. That’s where we met.”
“Cozy,” Cat said. “Was she naked at the time?”
“Mindy’s tryin’ to make it in porno out here,” he said, ignoring her crack. “I think she’s got a good chance, don’t you?”
“I’m sure she’ll be very successful,” Cat said, wondering if he was serious. “See you Monday,” she added, walking out.
Abandoning Mindy and her dreams of porno stardom, Nick followed Cat to the parking lot. “What’re your plans for the weekend?” he asked, scratching his stubbled chin.
“Sleep and work.”
“Wanna catch a movie?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Wanna meet here tomorrow night?”
“No thanks.”
“How come no thanks?”
“It’s not my scene.”
“What’s not your scene?”
“Busty blond bimbo strippers looking to be porn stars. I have nothing to say to them.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
She laughed derisively as her car arrived. “Get a life, Nick,” she said, handing the valet five dollars and jumping into her car.
“I’ll call you,” he yelled as she revved the engine and drove off.
She didn’t head home, On a sudden impulse she drove straight to LAX and bought a ticket on the redeye to New York. Who needed Luanne when she could handle Jump’s threat herself? Plus she was desperate to see the videotape that Luanne was holding.
She was so glad she’d found out about Jump before she’d gotten pregnant or something ridiculous like that.
Her husband was a serial cheater.
Not good news.
And definitely not for her.
• • •
Shelby couldn’t sleep all night. Linc had given her an ultimatum and she was not good with ultimatums. One meaningless photo in a magazine, and he was acting as if she’d run off to Acapulco with Pete and indulged in a weeklong affair.
She planned to call her therapist and ask her what she should do, but unfortunately Brenda had recently changed her home number, and she did net have the new one with her.
Linc’s ultimatum was totally unreasonable; she was sure Brenda would agree.
Linc had not come to bed; he’d stayed in the living room watching TV all night, probably drinking himself into a stupor.
One thing was for sure, she had no intention of walking off her movie, and even less intention of requesting that Pete get fired.
Linc had put her in an impossible situation. She absolutely refused to comply with either of his ludicrous edicts.
The following morning when her alarm went off, she slipped out of bed, put on a tracksuit, and took the elevator to the tenth floor, where another suite had been booked for the stylist and hair and makeup people who were getting her ready for the Rapture press junket.
Kara, the studio publicist with the crinkly red hair and funky tinted glasses, was waiting to greet her. “This won’t be too bad,” Kara assured her, far too cheerful for 7:00 A.M. “You waltzed through the last one.”
“It’s always difficult,” Shelby replied, settling into the makeup chair. “I dread every interview—it’s such an unnatural thing to have to do, talking about myself for eight straight hours.”
Spying a copy of People, she picked it up, searching for the photo of her and Pete. She found it and checked it out. It was a perfectly tame photo, nothing for Linc to get so upset about
“How about your reviews?” Kara said, handing her a cup of coffee. “Pretty impressive, huh?”
“Merrill Zandack gave them to me on the plane. I must say I’m shocked they’re so flattering.”
“Don’t be shocked. You’re fantastic in the movie.”
“Thanks.”
‘Anyway, here’s the thing,” Kara said. “I’ll be warning every reporter who enters the room that they cannot—under any account—mention the photos of Linc with Lola Sanchez.”
“What photos?”
“The ones from yesterday’s front pages.”
Shelby looked blank.
“Oh God!” Kara exclaimed, “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen them?”
“I only flew In last night.”
“I’m sure It’s, nothing,” Kara said, obviously embarrassed. “I mean, they’re making a movie together, and we all know those kind of photos happen.”
“Can I see the papers?” Shelby asked quietly
“I don’t have them, but I can get hold of copies for you,” A beat. “Y’know, if you haven’t seen them, maybe it’s better to wait until after the junket.”
“I think I should know what the journalists are not supposed to mention, don’t you?” Shelby said coolly.
“I’ll go see what I can find for you,” Kara said, scurrying from the room.
The makeup girl approached. Shelby shut her eyes and gave herself up to the process.
So, Linc was screaming about an innocuous photo in People, and apparently his photo was on the front of the New York papers with Lola Sanchez—something he had not bothered mentioning.
She didn’t know what was going on, but whatever it was, she was certain it wasn’t good.
• • •
The limo deposited Lola back at her hotel.
“I’m not coming up,” Tony said, his expression fierce.
“Please, honey,” Lola begged. “Let me take care of your lip.”
“No,” he said, angrily shaking his head. “I’m too pissed.”
“It’s Friday night,” she cajoled. “No early call tomorrow.”
He was not to be swayed. “I’ll phone you later.”
“Why don’t I come to your hotel?” she suggested, reluctant to leave him alone.
“No, Lola,” he said sharply, “I gotta be by myself.”
Tony had a dark side. She knew enough not to push him further.
Big Jay escorted her upstairs, and she roamed restlessly around her suite before finally going to bed.
As usual, in the morning when she removed the block from her phone, Faye was first on line.
“Are you single-handedly trying to ruin your career?” Faye demanded, sounding hoarser than ever.
“What happened now?” she murmured, stifling a yawn.
“A fight in a discotheque?” Faye questioned, as if it was the most ludicrous thing she’d ever heard.
“It wasn’t a discotheque, it was a club. Discos went out years ago.”
“Whatever,” Faye said. “There’s a photo of you fleeing from a club. Once again you’ve made the front pages.” Lola smiled to herself. “I can’t keep up with you.” Faye droned on, “and I’m your publicist. What am I supposed to tell, the press now?”
“It wasn’t our fault, Faye, Some guy hauled off and ha Tony”
“Some guy, Lola?”
“Okay,” she said irritably. “So it was Tyrell White, The bastard attacked me. What was Tony meant to do? He was coming to my defense, Faye. Tony didn’t start it.”
“I’m running as much damage control as possible,” Faye said wearily. “When the tabloids hit, there’s nothing I can do to protect you. It won’t be pretty.”
“You’d better protect me, Faye,” she said sharply. “You’re my publicist. You must have relationships with some of those so-called journalists at the rags.”
“Some of them, yes; some of them, no. I’ll do what I can.”
“Fine,” Lola said, slamming down the phone.
Big Jay knocked on her bedroom door.
“What?” she said irritably.
“Your sister’s here,” he said.
“My sister?” she said, totally surprised.
Selma pushed past him and entered the bedroom. She was carrying an overnight bag and her cheeks were flushed, “Mama sent me to come talk to you,” she announced.
“Why would she do that?” Lola demanded, thinking that at least it was Selma—the good sister, not the tittletattle star stalker, Isabelle.
“She thinks you need family near you,” Selma explained, “Everyone’s worried about you, even Matt.”
“Matt?” Lola said, frowning. “I told the family that none of you were to have anything more to do with him.”
“He’s a nice guy. Sis. You married him, after all. We can’t abandon him.”
“He’s not being abandoned.” Lola said heatedly. “He’s getting plenty of money
from me. Believe me, he’s in for a healthy settlement. Matt has nothing to complain about.”
“It’s not all about money, Lucia.”
“Yes. It is.”
“No. It’s not,” Selma said stubbornly.
What the hell was Selma doing, sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong?
“Can I stay here with you?” Selma asked. “Mama’s taken the kids for the weekend.”
“Of course you can,” Lola said, softening. “Actually, if you stop with the nagging, it’s lovely to see you.”
“You too, little Sis,” Selma said, her face brightening.
Lola jumped out of bed and they exchanged warm hugs.
Later, when Selma was settled in the spare bedroom of the suite, Lola called Tony. He didn’t answer.
Great! Now she’d have to hang around the hotel waiting for him to surface. He hadn’t phoned her last night, and she was not pleased.
Most men were controllable. Tony wasn’t.
Somehow it added to the attraction.
CHAPTER
* * *
29
Cat phoned Jonas from Kennedy as she strode through the airport, ignoring the admiring glances from, the male population.
“I’m in New York,” she announced.
“You’re not,” he said, like she was playing some kind of bizarre joke on him.
“Yes,” she answered matter-of-factly. “I caught the red-eye last night.”
“Why did you do that?”
“ ’Cause I need to sort things out here for myself.”
“You told me you had everything organized,” he said accusingly.
“I did, only something else came up.”
“What?”
“Don’t question me, Jonas,” she said irritably. “Cover for me,”
“If Merrill finds out you’ve left while you’re in the middle of shooting his movie, he’ll be seriously angry.”
“I understand.” she said crisply. “That’s exactly why you’re not about to tell anyone, okay?”
“Are you making me a co-conspirator?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to be a co-conspirator.”
“Too bad, Jonas. This way you can’t run and report everything to Merrill.”
Hollywood Divorces Page 28
