There were numerous pictures accompanying the story. Shelby didn’t want to read it, but people kept on coming up to her on the set with a copy, saying, “I know you don’t want to see this, but maybe you should.”
Why would they do that? Why couldn’t they ignore it? Or throw the damn magazines in the trash?
She refused to read it, but seeing the photos and the headlines upset her anyway. She was sure the story would make its way into the English papers. Her parents would be mortified Since walking out on Linc in New York she had not heard from him. She was surprised and hurt. She’d expected him to be on the phone as soon as he sobered up, begging her forgiveness as usual.
Maybe this thing with Lola Sanchez was true. Maybe he was having an affair with the Latina sex bomb, and that’s why he’d been so bitter about her and Pete, because he wanted to make her the guilty party so that he didn’t have to face up to his own guilt.
She was horribly conflicted. Earlier in the week she’d attended the premiere of Rapture—once again it was a triumph. The audience actually stood and applauded. All the reviews were fantastic, except for a snide comment in the Wall Street journal
She was ecstatic about her career, and deeply depressed about her marriage.
What did she really want? A fabulously successful career, or Linc?
It seemed like she had no choice, because Linc was not giving up his drinking; therefore he was not part of her future.
She spent many long hours with her therapist, who seemed to think the split was inevitable. “Linc is a very damaged man,” Brenda repeated over and over. “He is filled with guilt and shame about what happened in his childhood. Drinking helps him to forget. He feels safer when he’s drunk. Marriage is turning out to be too big a responsibility for him to handle.”
Pete was around the set a lot. He went out of his way not to approach her unless it was to talk about the upcoming stunt.
Sometimes she found herself watching him from afar. He wasn’t Linc, but he was certainly a handsome man, in a rugged, outdoorsy way. She remembered the time they were dating. He’d treated her like a queen. And yet . . . she’d left him for a movie star, a man with charisma to spare. A man who obviously preferred alcohol to her.
Fortunately she had her work to throw herself into, and she liked hanging out with-Cat, They giggled like a couple of girlfriends about Nick Logan and his pursuit of every woman on the set. Almost every day Nick had a different girl come to his trailer for lunch. The crew took bets on whether it would be a blonde, redhead, or brunette. He seemed to favor no particular color, although they all had spectacular bodies.
“I’ve been watching him,” Shelby remarked. “He definitely has a thing for you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cat said, frowning. “I could eat him up and spit him out. He’s a womanizing jerk.”
“So. . . . we think he’s a jerk, do we?”
“Good description,” Cat said. “I mean, in an unruly, puppy-dog sort of way.”.
“I think you like him,” Shelby teased.
“I do not,” Cat protested—a bit too vehemently.
Shelby found Nick was friendly and professional toward her. If it wasn’t for her problems with Linc, she would be having a good time on Caught. Her role was challenging and exciting—she’d never played such a tough character. In a way it was exhilarating.
The day of the car stunt, Pete was very much in charge. He issued instructions at a rapid-fire pace, while everyone listened intently. Pete had a great reputation is one of the best stuntmen in the business. Shelby had to drive the car—a Jaguar—while being chased by Nick in another vehicle. The stunt part was executing a sudden stop and completing a 180-degree turn without the car spinning out of control. They’d rehearsed it for a week, and she was hoping she had it down. Pete, directing second unit, rode with the camera crew on a truck behind them.
Her heart was pounding. She didn’t want to let Pete down. She could do it, had to do it.
“Action!” Pete yelled, and Shelby took off.
The stunt “Worked perfectly. Shelby was ecstatic. Pete hopped off the truck and ran toward her, helping her out of the car. “You’re the greatest!” he said, beaming. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks to you,” she murmured.
“One take, Shelby,” he said, turning to the rest of the crew. “Let’s hear it for our girl!”
The applause was gratifying.
• • •
“I think you gotta come to my movie premiere with me tonight,” Nick said, smoking as usual. “It’s a big deal.”
“It is?” Cat said.
“I gotta go, an’ I don’t fancy doin’ it alone.”
“Take one of your many girlfriends,” she suggested. “You’ve got enough of them to choose from.”
“I wanna take you,” he said, giving her a moody stare.
“Why?”
“ ’Cause it’ll be dynamite publicity for our movie. We’ll get outta the limo, an’ here I am with this knockout blonde, an’ everyone’s gonna say, ‘Who’s the fox?’ An’ I’m gonna say—she’s the director of Caught, the movie I’m making,”
“What makes you think we need that kind of publicity?”
“We don’t, but it’ll be fun.”
Fun? Hmm . . . She hadn’t experienced a lot of that lately. Although when she’d called Merrill back, the conversation had been pretty damn good. Before she could say a word, Merrill had started raving about the dailies, “I showed them to people here,” he said. “They love you, they love your work. We got plenty of backers, kitten. When do I get your next script?”
She’d given no thought to what she planned to do next. Maybe take some time off and go island hopping, read some books, generally veg out.
“I’ll get back to you, Merrill,” she’d said.
“Do that, kitten, It’s you and me all the way.”
It was nice to know that somebody was waiting for her next project, although she was wise enough to realize that if Caught failed horribly at the box office, she’d be yesterday’s news.
“What’re you thinking?” Nick asked, still waiting for her answer.
“I hate that question. Like I’m going to tell you what I’m thinking.”
“Why not?”.
“Okay I’m thinking you’re an asshole—does that satisfy you?”
“Y’know, there’s something about you,” he said, grinning. “You’re kinda like old and young at the same time. It’s the sexy bod and the old mouth,”
“Old mouth?” she said, frowning again.
“Y’know what I mean.” He chain-lit another cigarette. “So—you comin’ to my flick?”
“Why are you always asking me to go places when you have a million babes who would happily go with you at the drop of their knickers?”
“Knickers!” he exclaimed, laughing. “That’s a nice old English word. Didn’t know you were English»”.
“I lived there for a while.”
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know much about you, do I?”
“I don’t know much about you either, and I’m not sure 1 want to, so don’t sweat it.”
“You coming with me, or not?”
“What’s the movie?”
“Trucker. Big-time action. You’ll get off on it.”
She sighed. “I dunno . . .”
“For fuck’s sake,” he snapped. “Stop givin’ me this I’m-not-sure crap.”
“Okay,” she said, making a snap decision. “Your charm has convinced me. Only no hands on.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not one of your conquests. I’ll go with you ’cause you’re right—it’ll be great publicity for our movie.”
“Jeez!” he grumbled. “You sure as shit don’t make it easy.”
“What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something sexy.”
“Shove it up your—”
“Okay, oka
y,” he said, holding up his hand. “I get it. Wear whatever you want. See ya later.”
CHAPTER
* * *
33
“I got somethin’ to tell you that’ll shock the shit outta you,” Freddy Krane announced. He was back in town and visiting the set.
“What’s that?” Linc asked, high on coke and feeling no pain, even though he was in the middle of working.
“Lola Sanchez,” Freddy said, a triumphant gleam in his eyes, “A coupla nights ago I was havin’ phone sex with that model broad, Allegra. So I’m pullin’ the old pod, an’ all of a sudden, whammo! I realize I’m sittin’ in the same bed you fucked Lola in.”
“I didn’t fuck her.” Linc said, frowning.
“Sure you did. Only you’ve forgotten about it,”
“I have?”
“She’s changed, but Freddy never forgets a face, so I did some checking.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Keep listenin’, A few years ago at one of my parties I hired a Latino DJ who’d been recommended. He brought his girlfriend with him,”
“So?” Linc said, not even vaguely interested in Freddy’s ramblings.
“She was a hot-lookin’ piece, turnin’ on the sexy dancin’ for us. So I sent one of my girls to bring her over.”
“You did, huh?”
“Over she comes, this hot little Latina chick, an’ that’s the last I saw of her, ’cause you took her inside an’ spent the night with her in my bed. I couldn’t even sleep in my own freakin’ bed! So in the mornin’ when I come in—you’re gone and she’s still there, naked as a Playboy spread, an’ sexy as all get-out.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Lola Sanchez, schmuck! Course, her name wasn’t Lola then, but it was her. I had one of my assistants track down the DJ from that night. The dude’s now producing records in L.A. I spoke to him personally— asked him if he played a gig at one of my parties, and was the girl with him Lola. He told me yes.”
“I’m still not getting you,” Linc said.
Freddy shook his head in disgust. “What are you, stoned?”
“Who understands what the fuck this story is about?”
“You were screwing Lola Sanchez, only that wasn’t her name then. She was just some sexy Chicana chick tryin’ to get herself noticed. You nailed her in my bed, spent the night with her, then passed her on to me. Unfortunately she didn’t want anythin’ to do with me. End of story. Now, six years later, here we are.”
“Holy shit!” Linc said, finally getting it. “You sure?”
“ ’Course I am,” Freddy agreed, chuckling. “I got a memory like a freakin’ elephant—’specially when it comes to women. If I’ve seen ’em naked, you can bet I’m gonna remember ’em.”
“But you didn’t see her naked. According to you it was me who spent the night with her.”
“Why d’you think she hasn’t mentioned it to you?”
“Maybe she’s embarrassed.”
“She’s pissed at you, man. You screwed her all night, then dumped her. Bet you never even called her—did you?”
Linc shrugged. “Who remembers?”
“You shoulda called, sent a flower or somethin’. I would’ve, only she didn’t want me, she wanted you, the big movie star. Marched outta my house all bent outta shape.”
“You think it was Lola?”
“I know it was.”
“What should I do?”
“Get her into bed again, then tell her you remember while you’re screwin’ her. That’ll give her the come of the century,”
“Anybody ever mentioned you’re a dirty old man?”
“No shit?” Freddy said, yawning. “Where’s Shelby?”
“In L.A.”
“Wasn’t she supposed to be here?”
“She flew in for a day, then she had to get back.”
“Something goin’ on with you two?”
“Nothing I want your big mouth to know about.”
“Okay, dinner tonight with Allegra. An’ this time— the three of us. Let’s get a party goin’. Why waste a sure thing?”
• • •
Lola was nervous about returning to the set. Her mind was elsewhere; it was certainly not on emoting in front of the camera in a sexy dress, flirting with Linc blackwood, and making it work for the romantic comedy they were shooting.
She was well aware that she had to get back to work, because if she didn’t, it would mean career suicide. Elliott Finerman had been helpful up until now, but he would not continue to be so understanding. They’d already shot half the movie, so she had no choice.
“You must check with the hospital every hour,” she instructed Jenny. “I have to know what’s going on.”
Tony kept on calling. She refused to accept his calls. In one of her prayer sessions she’d made a pact with God—if she was good, God would save Selma and bring her out of her coma.
Being good meant not seeing Tony. Tony unleashed her wild side, and it was because of her reconnection with him that a tragedy had taken place.
Matt phoned to offer his sympathies. She was touched to hear from him; the once-boring Matt now seemed like a nice, caring person—and even more important, Selma liked him.
“Lola, are you okay?” he kept on asking her.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Can I come to New York?”
“You know,” she said, thinking that she was still married to Matt, therefore he should be by her side, “that might be nice.”
‘I’ll hop a plane today.”
Now what was she to do about Linc Blackwood? She’d probably broken up his marriage with their photos all over the front pages, and maybe that was punishment enough. Revenge was not something that went hand in hand with religion and prayers.
She struck another bargain with God, If he made Selma better, she would forgive Linc Blackwood for the past, and not pursue revenge against him.
Matt must have jumped on the next plane, because before she knew it, he was there. Tall and white-bread and boring, he’d shaven his stupid goatee and was thrilled to be back by her side.
She clung to him because she had to cling to someone and in her mind Tony Alvarez was now the enemy.
Matt was one happy man. He had his wife back, and that’s all he cared about.
• • •
“Can we at least celebrate your success?” Pete asked.
Shelby’s cheeks were flushed. She felt that she’d conquered a fear, considering she’d always been slightly scared of driving. In fact, she’d only learned to drive when she’d first moved to L.A.
Now she was actually doing car stunts in a movie. It was quite an achievement.
“I . . . I don’t know.” she said, not sure she should encourage him.
“Look,” Pete said. “I know things aren’t going well with Linc,”
“How do you know that?” she asked quickly.
“It’s all over the tabloids, Shelby.”
“That’s why I can’t be seen with you,” she said. “If we were photographed together it would only make things worse.”
“You could come to my house,” he suggested. “There’s no photographers hanging out there.”
“And what if they caught me coming out of your house? That would look terrible.”
“It’s not as if we’re doing anything, Shelby,” he said patiently.
“I know that.”
“Look,” he said. “We should celebrate. However, if you feel it’s inappropriate, tell me, and I’ll stop bugging you.”
Linc hadn’t phoned, and she did not relish the thought of sitting in her big mansion by herself for one more night. She was lonely by herself in America, with no family and hardly any friends.
Oh yes, plenty of people were calling to congratulate her on the enormous success of her performance in Rapture, but there wasn’t anyone she was close to. Cat was the only person she’d developed any kind of relationship with.
/> And here was Pete. Good solid Pete, And he wanted her to come to his house, and she wanted to go.
“Okay,” she finally said. “Your house it is.”
“There’ll be nobody around,” he promised. “And PH barbecue for you—how’s that? Remember how you always loved my burgers?”
“Do I! They were delicious.”
“You used to wolf down two if I remember rightly.”
She smiled at the memories. They’d spent one glorious summer together and had a very good time, although they’d never consummated their relationship.
“We can go right from the set,” he said.
“It’s not a good idea for people to see us leaving together.”
“You know where my house is—drive yourself over. I’ll be waiting.”
“I think that’s best.”
“Whatever you want, Shelby.”
“Pete,” she asked curiously, “do you have a girlfriend?”
“Why?”
“I, uh . . . thought if you did, she might like to join us.”
“Am I making you nervous, Shelby?” he said, giving her a penetrating look. “ ’Cause that’s not my intention.” “No,” she said quickly. “Pm simply a little confused right now.”
“The truth is I have several girlfriends, but I’m not asking any of them to join us. It’s dinner alone together, for old times’ sake. How’s that?”
“Sounds nice.”
“Do you need to go home, first? Or will you come straight from the studio?”
“I don’t have to change clothes or anything; after all, it’s not as if this is a date.”
“Right,” he said. “I’m leaving in ten minutes, so I’ll see you when you get there. Drive carefully, Shelby. Me and the dogs’ll be waiting.”
• • •
“Wear something sexy,” Nick had said.
Oh yeah, sure, like she was about to dress up for him. Ha! Was he going to wear something sexy for her?
What did he consider sexy, anyway? She had on the tightest jeans known to man and a cut-off Abercrombie & Fitch island tee shirt that exposed her midriff and pierced navel. Wasn’t that sexy?
Hollywood Divorces Page 32
