Her stuff had recently arrived from New York, and there were boxes piled all over her apartment. She riffled through some of her clothes, searching for a suitable outfit for the premiere.
Look at you, she thought. Getting all excited about a date with a womanizing little prick. Or big prick.
Yeah, she giggled. He has the big-prick cocky attitude.
What was it about men? Why did they always have to tie you up in knots? It wasn’t as if she even liked him.
Well . . . maybe a tad.
She finally settled on an off-the-shoulder white ruffled blouse and skintight black leather pants. Then she added lots of silver Gypsy jewelry she’d inherited from her grandmother.
She ran her hands through her short blond hair, spiking it up even more, and added plenty of kohl around her eyes, giving her the fashionable heroin-chic look. A touch of lip gloss and she was ready.
Why am I doing this? she thought.
Because I want to, that’s why.
The downstairs buzzer started ringing, making it too late to back out now. Two minutes later Nick slouched his way into her apartment.
“I thought we had to leave.” she said.
“Tidy, aren’t you?” he said, regarding the stack of half-unpacked boxes littered all over the floor.
“I’m trying to find the time to unpack properly,” she answered, “Why? Are you doing a photo shoot for Architectural Digest?”
“S’matter of fact—”
“Shut up.”
“Cool apartment,” he said, checking out her CD collection, “I’m stuck in a friggin’ hotel. I gotta get myself a place out here.”
“Do you have a home anywhere?”
“I kinda live like a Gypsy. Friends’ floors, that kinda deal.”
“You’re a movie star,” she pointed out. “A house is a good investment.”
“Does that mean you’ll help me look?”
“No,” she said firmly. “Wives and fiancées are the people who help guys look for houses. Not the director of your movie, who happens to be doing you a huge favor by accompanying you to your premiere.”
“God, you’re a hard nut,” he complained. “Your husband must’ve treated you real bad.”
“It’s not important,” she said.
“Anyway,” he said, checking her out with an appraising eye, “you look pretty hot.”
“Oh,” she said, slightly flustered. “Thanks,”
“How about me?”
She gave him an exaggerated once-over, “Hmm . . . let me see, A comb wouldn’t be a bad idea,”
“Can’t let the fans down,” he said, mocking himself. “This is how they like me.”
“They do?”
“You should see some of the letters 1 get—naked pictures, offers of anything I want, It’s a wild trip. Come to my trailer one day and read my fan mail.”
“What a great idea,” she said sarcastically, “I’ve got nothing else to do with my time,”
“Got any joints lying around?”
“No, I gave up recreational drugs.”
“Gave ’em up?” he said, shocked. “Why would you give up weed?”
“I told you,” she said patiently. “I used to be a druggie. Now I don’t do anything. It’s better for me not to be tempted,”
“Fuckin’ boring. C’mon, blondie, let’s hit the road,”
CHAPTER
* * *
34
Allegra, the tall, skinny model with the strong Australian accent, was quite happy to see Linc again.
“Are you getting a divorce?” was her first question.
“No,” he responded sharply.
“The Enquirer says you are.”
“Believe the Enquirer,” he said shortly. “Don’t believe me.”
Why had he said he would come out with her and Freddy again? He couldn’t take the accent, although Freddy had assured him she was a wildcat in bed.
Allegra preened like an exotic bird. “I’ll be on the cover of the next Sports Illustrated,” she boasted. “Do you know what an honor that is? Of course,” she added—in case they didn’t know—“I’ve been on the cover twice before.”
“Sure, honey,” Freddy said, groping her almost nonexistent ass.
Lola was due back on the set tomorrow. Linc had been racking his brains trying to remember more about the night he’d apparently spent with her in Freddy’s bed. Before Shelby, there had been so many one-night stands—at least three women a week. Fortunately or unfortunately, they were all a blur; no way could he single out Lola.
Freddy was in rare form. First they went to a Russian restaurant, where they feasted on borscht and blini with caviar, washed down with several shots of Russian vodka. Then they dropped into Elaine’s for drinks; where Freddy proceeded to regale Elaine with outrageous stories about his last movie—an action adventure shot in Cambodia, and according to Freddy, starring the asshole of action adventure heroes. “This jerk was such a hero,” Freddy revealed, “that he used to stiff all the hookers after he’d fucked ’em.”
Elaine gave Linc a look as much as to say, Can you shut him up, or should I?
After dinner Allegra wanted to make the rounds of her favorite clubs.
“Didn’t we do that last week?” Linc asked.
“So we’ll do it again,” Freddy said.
Yeah, Linc thought. Why am I hanging hack? I’ve got a wife who’s screwing some fucking stuntman in L.A., and Pm in New York like a schmuck, not even getting laid.
He took another look at Allegra, although the thought of a threesome with Freddy was pretty gruesome.
Then he downed a couple of straight scotches and suggested they visit a strip club.
“Yes!” Freddy said.
“I have been known to get it on with girls,” Allegra promised, sloe eyes gleaming. “Does that send shivers up and down your spine, boys?”
• • •
In bed with Matt, Lola felt comfortable and safe. Matt was not exciting, but at least he didn’t go around beating people up and getting her sister shot in return.
“I missed you so much,” Matt said, his hands all over her. “I was shattered when your lawyer told me I had to leave the house. You broke my heart, Lola. But we’re here together now, so I won’t dwell on it.”
They’d recently finished making love. Apart from the size of his dick, Lola considered Matt incredibly dull in bed. He got on, pumped away, and got off—in more ways than one. He wasn’t even capable of giving good head.
She didn’t care. If this was her punishment, so be it. Her only concern was for her sister’s recovery.
“Can I come to the set tomorrow?” Matt asked. “You might need my moral support—it being your first day back since the shooting.”
“You can come everywhere with me,” she said, resigned to her new situation. “I feel safe with you around.”
“That’s the way it should he.” A long pause. “I have to ask you something,”
“What?”
“Was anything going on between you and Tony Alvarez?”
“Nothing,” she answered without blinking.
Damn! Now she’d lied. She had to stop lying.
“Actually, that’s not true,” she said, hastily correcting herself. “Tony and I did get together a couple of times, only I soon realized it wasn’t the same as being with you.”
There, she’d corrected that lie.
Sorry, God. I’ll try to do better; But believe me, it’s not easy.
• • •
Pete’s dogs raced out to greet Shelby. There were three of them—-a Golden Retriever, a black Lab, and a police dog incongruously named Pudding.
She bent down to fuss them. They licked her face, barked, and jumped up at her.
“The guys remember you,” Pete said, emerging from the house wearing jeans and a work shirt with rolled-up sleeves. “I made it here ten minutes before you, just in time to make you a glass of your favorite sangria and get the barbecue fired up.”
“The dogs seem to be in great shape,” she said, straightening up.
“Looks like they missed you. Remember when we used to take them to the dog park?”
“Oh, yes. I loved going there,” she said enthusiastically.
“How come you don’t have dogs?”
“Linc’s allergic.”
“That’s a new one.”
“He is.”
“Come inside. I got something to show you.”
She followed him through the cluttered house into the warm, and cozy kitchen. He took her hand and led her over to a basket containing a tiny golden puppy. The other three dogs trotted eagerly behind them.
“Oh my!” she exclaimed. “This is the sweetest little thing I’ve ever seen,”
“Found it wandering around the canyon. I brought it in before it got eaten by coyotes.”
“What’s its name?”
“Haven’t named it yet. Thought you could do the honors.”
Gently she picked up the golden ball of fluff. “Hi, little guy,” she said, scratching it under the chin. The puppy gazed up at her. “I think I’m in love!” she exclaimed. “She’s so adorable!”
“It’s a he,” Pete said, handing her a glass of sangria. “There’s supposed to be a beautiful sunset,” he added. “Let’s go see if we can catch it.”
They went out to the backyard. There was no swimming pool, just an old hammock and a jumble of wild rosebushes. It was so unlike all the polished Beverly Hills and Bel Air mansions she’d gotten used to.
“I love this house,” she said warmly. “I especially love the view of the city at night.”
“Yeah, there’s something magical about it. It gets me every time.” he said, going over to the barbecue. “I hope you’re still a meat eater.”
“I’m English, of course I eat meat.”
“That’s good, ’cause I’m making Omaha steaks, baked potatoes, and hot dogs,”
“Sounds like a man-sized meal.”
“You got it,” he said, smiling. “And, to go with everything,” he added, activating an outdoor speaker, “your favorite James Taylor song.”
“You remember everything,” she said, smiling as “You’ve Got a Friend” filled the night air.
“Yes, Shelby,” he said, looking into her eyes, “I remember absolutely everything.”
• • •
The onslaught of flashbulbs was startling. Cat was not used to this kind of relentless attention.
Nick flung his arm around her shoulders in an all-encompassing way so that she couldn’t escape.
Fans were lined up on each side of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, screaming his name. The TV cameras were stationed in a long line down one side of the red carpet, the photographers along the other.
A harassed publicity woman approached them. “Mr. Logan, this way.”
“You’re coming with me,” he whispered to Cat.
“I’m not,” she protested. “I’ll wait inside.”
“I said you’re coming with me,” he hissed, not loosening his grip.
So much for anonymity, she thought, as he dragged her down the press line, chatting amiably to all the TV crews, introducing her to every one of them.
“I wish you hadn’t done that,” she said when they finally made it inside the theater.
“You could’ve run,” he said, groping in his pocket for a chewed-up toothpick.
“How could I run with your hand on the scruff of my neck?”.
“You’re gonna get plenty of attention anyway.” he said. “Don’t think you can avoid it,”
He was repeating what Shelby had said. Was celebrity inevitable simply because she was young and not bad looking?
In the lobby he introduced her to a few of the cast members from his movie and to the director.
She felt humiliated because she was sure they were all looking at her as if she was another one of his conquests, I must have been crazy to come to this she thought. Stark raving crazy.
After the movie—a salute to violence—there was a big party.
Nick said, “We only have to stay five minutes, then we can leave,”
“But I’m hungry,” she protested.
“Well join the gang at Ago,”
Not only had she been exposed to the world as another one of Nick Logan’s girlfriends, now he wanted to show his friends that she’d gone out with him.
“You know what?” she said. “I’d sooner go someplace else—maybe Chow’s.”
“Why?” he said. “Everyone’s at Ago.”
“How come they didn’t come to your premiere?”
“You think they’d come to a shitty movie like that?” he said, abandoning his toothpick and reaching for a cigarette.
Oh great! She’d had to endure his movie, and they didn’t have to.
“Anyway,” he added, lighting up, “we’ll toss a coin.”
He tossed. She lost. She was sure that he cheated.
By the time they arrived at Ago, his table was packed.
“Do you really pick up the check for all these people every night?” she whispered.
“I can afford it.”
“It must be costing you a fortune.”
“It’s them or the tax man. I’m a generous soul.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
Amy, the pretty stand-up comedian with the oversized glasses, was there. Nick greeted her with a great show of affection.
She must be an old girlfriend, Cat thought.
“Didja meet Amy?” Nick asked.
“Yes,” Cat replied. “I was planning on catching your act at the Improv, right.”
“She remembers,” Amy said. “This one’s a keeper.”
Nick gave Amy another kiss and a hug. Cat frowned. What did he think—that they were going to get involved in some kind of bizarre threesome?
“I think I’ll take off.” she said. “I’ve got to be up early, and it’s getting late.”
“No,” Nick urged. “You’re staying to eat. She’s staying, Amy—right?”
“Whatever you say, Brother dear.”
Brother dear? Was that a term of affection, or was she actually his sister?
“Are you brother and sister?” Cat asked.
“Yup,” Amy said, grinning. “ ’Fraid so.”
“Oh,” Cat said, and immediately thought that Amy would be the perfect girl for Jonas.
• • •
“My steak was delicious,” Shelby said, pushing her plate away. She was sitting comfortably on an outdoor chair in the backyard of Pete’s house, nursing a second glass of sangria.
“You haven’t finished.”
“I can’t. This steak was big enough for a three-hundred-pound truck driver.”
“I’ll give the rest to the dogs,” Pete said, picking up the plates.
“Expensive dogs,” Shelby remarked as the dogs came bounding over.
“I believe in looking after my animals.”
“I can see that.”
“Unconditional love,” Pete said, patting the black Lab. “That’s what I get from these guys.”
“You were telling me about your love life earlier,” Shelby said. “Can I hear more?”
“Why?” he said. “It’s boring.”
“No. I’m fascinated.”
“Sadist!”
“Come on, Pete.”
“Okay,” he said, matter-of-factly. “After Liz the actress, there was Janet.”
“And what was wrong with Janet?” Shelby asked good-naturedly.
“Janet was okay, except she was desperate to get married.”
“And you didn’t want to?”
“After I get to know someone, maybe. Janet wanted to get married after we’d only been together three weeks.”
“So Janet had to go?”
“Right. Then after Janet there was Clarissa, the hairdresser.”
“And her problem was?”
“Sex maniac. She wanted it three times a night.” He gave a self-deprecating grin. “Now,
I like sex as much as the next man, but three times a night, forget it.” Shelby smiled. “It certainly seems you’ve been busy since we broke up,”
“We never broke up, Shelby,” he said, correcting her gently. “You ran off and married one of my best friends.”
“I wish you wouldn’t keep reminding me.”
“I wish you’d face up to the fact that Linc is not making you happy.”
She flushed. “How can you say something like that?”
“It’s obvious, Shelby. I see the tabloids. Linc’s a player, he always has been. He likes booze, women, and—” He stopped abruptly.
“Booze, women, and what?” she challenged.
“I’m sure he’s not into it anymore.”
“Into what, Pete?”
“He was, uh, always kind of a cocaine freak.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said scornfully “If I’d ever suspected that line took drugs, it would’ve been the end of us.”
“He probably stopped when he met you,” Pete said, wishing he hadn’t mentioned it.
“It’s time to go,” she said, standing up. “This was nice. You’ll make some lucky girl a wonderful cook.”
“I have other talents, too.”
“I’m sure you do,” she said, petting the puppy.
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
They went through the house out to the front.
“There’s something I think you should know before you go,” Pete said, standing by her car.
“Yes, Pete. What?” she said, finding her keys.
“It’ll sound corny, but there’s no other way to say it,”
“Go ahead,”
“I love you, Shelby,” he said quietly, “I always have and I always will. And you know what? I’m sorry, but there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.”
CHAPTER
* * *
35
Line had never been to a strip club with a woman before, and Allegra was into it. The moment the girls began strutting their stuff, Allegra jumped up—all six feet of her—whistling as if she was a randy guy out on the town looking to get laid.
“Gimme money,” she kept demanding of Freddy.
He obliged, bringing out his considerable bankroll.
Snatching a handful of cash, she immediately began sticking twenty-dollar bills into the girls’ G-strings.
Hollywood Divorces Page 33
