‘So why are you here?’
Skye shrugged, looking away.
‘I told everyone in group, remember? This sugar daddy of mine made me come here. I go through rehab for “sex addiction” –’ she raised her acrylic-tipped fingers and made the quotation mark sign with them – ‘and he sets me up in a nice little love nest.’ She grimaced again. ‘I’m not really that talented a dancer, you know? All the girls at the Lounge, they want to be Diamond. That’s their dream.’
Seeing Amber’s blank face, she elaborated: ‘The burlesque dancer who wears real diamonds in her costume? She’s got her own show in Vegas now? And she does those vodka ads on the TV? But she’s really good. I mean, she’s a star. No way am I that good a dancer. I get by with this and these.’ She pointed to her pretty face, her high firm breasts. ‘That’s all I’ve got. Snagging a sugar daddy, having someone buy me an apartment, put it in my name . . . Look, I’m not saying I’m any kind of role model, but this is the hand I got dealt, and I’m playing it out.’
Skye’s head was tilted now as she looked at Amber, a challenge in her eyes; she was daring Amber to judge her.
‘I mean, you’re, like, a supermodel,’ she continued. ‘There are tons of girls who look like me.’
‘No.’ Amber was shaking her head vehemently. ‘I’m nothing like a supermodel. And I’m over the hill now, anyway. Twenty-seven’s like sixty in model years, believe me. I’m only here because someone’s paying for me, too,’ Amber found herself confessing. ‘A sort of sugar daddy.’
‘Really?’ Skye’s eyebrows arched.
‘I met him through modelling,’ Amber said, trying to stick as close to the truth as she dared.‘For him it’s all about how I look. He has no idea who I am.’ She paused. ‘Which isn’t really his fault,’ she added to her own surprise.‘Because I have no idea who I am either.’
‘Oh, honey . . .’ Skye slid off her bed and onto Amber’s, sitting next to her, taking her hands and squeezing them. ‘I’ve met a lot of girls, believe me,’ Skye said drily. ‘You don’t do the job I do without getting real good at sizing girls up. And whoever you are, you seem pretty nice to me.’
Amber thought she was about to cry. And then, to her great surprise and even greater pleasure, she realized that she was smiling back at Skye instead.
‘Come on,’ Skye said, pulling Amber to her feet. ‘Let’s go out in the garden and catch some rays.’
Pulling on a T-shirt and cut-offs, Skye led the way to the garden. She paused just as the two girls crossed the threshold out onto the patio, taking in the scene: the air outside was rich and warm after the air-conditioned facility. Purple bougainvillaea trailed down the wall behind the fountain, and the palm trees on the patio area were a canopy of leaves, sunlight dappling through them onto the flagstones.
Brian was sitting by the fountain, trailing his hand in the water, looking glum. And, lying on his favourite lounger on the lawn, rich cigar smoke rising into the air above him, was Joe Jeffreys, all six foot two inches of him, his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned to show off his rock-hard, golden-tanned, rippling abs. Sunlight glinted on the belt buckle that fastened his faded old blue jeans. He looked like the Marlboro Man; all he needed was a cowboy hat to complete the picture.
Glancing over, he caught sight of Amber and Skye, and a huge smile spread over his handsome face, his blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. He lifted the hand holding the cigar and gestured at the girls to come over and join him.
Skye hesitated for a moment.
Joe called: ‘Hey, Amber! Nice to see you up and about!’
Skye said swiftly to Amber: ‘We’re friends, right? You and me?’
Amber looked at Skye, confused. Skye was staring up at Amber with something very close to entreaty in her big blue eyes.
I barely know her, Amber thought, taken aback. But she’s been really nice to me. And I need friends. I really need girlfriends.
‘Um, yes,’ Amber answered cautiously.
‘So would you do me a huge favour?’ Skye entreated. ‘Would you dial it down with Joe?’
‘I don’t understand . . .’
‘He has this whole wounded-bird fantasy going on about you. And I don’t want him to get distracted from me.’ Skye’s voice was lowered. ‘This could be my ticket out of everything, you know? Plus,’ she jerked her head over at Joe, ‘honestly, I don’t think you’re up to sneaking around with one of the most famous guys on the planet, behind the back of one of the most famous women on the planet. You’ve got yourself to take care of, and that’s a full-time job at the moment.’
Amber couldn’t help smiling. Skye was smart enough to put her case very well, and she was absolutely right. The last thing I need is to be splashed all over the tabloids, or have paparazzi after me. Skye was tactful enough not to say it, but I’d relapse in two seconds with all that stress.
She nodded, acknowledging the truth of Skye’s words. ‘And you think you can handle it?’ she asked, her green eyes serious.
‘Just watch me!’ Skye said immediately. She took a breath, fiddling with her ponytail. ‘I don’t want you to think I’m a total slut,’ she added. ‘Jennifer – his fiancée – she’s gay. It’s all for publicity. I mean, he’s got to get it somewhere.’ She fixed Amber with a firm stare. ‘I’ve got your back here. Whatever you need, you can count on me. You get sick again, I’ll take care of you. And you leave Joe to me, OK?’
‘All right,’ Amber agreed, as Joe called: ‘Ladies! Aren’t you gonna come keep me company?’
‘Well, since you’re asking so nicely . . .’ Skye called back, flashing her very best smile as she and Amber crossed the lawn to join him.
Petal
Petal couldn’t ever remember feeling so lonely in her life.
She was sitting in the lounge, by the only phone they were allowed at Cascabel, apart from two hours on Sunday night when they got their cellphones back if their doctors thought they could be trusted with them. The lounge phone was so old-fashioned it was actually on a cord; you couldn’t pick it up and take it into your room for a private conversation. So Petal was having to wait there, sprawled on the sofa, looking like an idiot, waiting for her boyfriend to ring her, because the phone didn’t make outgoing calls, and after lots of sobbing and begging and pleading with Dr Raf, she’d negotiated a precious, scheduled call from Dan.
Only she’d been waiting forty minutes, and the call still hadn’t come. Petal was pretty much ready to tear her face off with her fingernails.
The worst part was that a tech was hovering round, doing something meaningless in the office next door, but really there to listen in on Petal’s call and make sure she didn’t do something that Cascabel would term ‘inappropriate’. Like asking Dan to fly over here and score her an eight-ball of coke on the way.
Ohmigod!
The phone was actually ringing! Petal sat up straight, afraid that she was hallucinating the sound because she wanted to hear it so much. She snatched it out of its cradle almost before the first ring had finished. Petal had never been any good at delayed anticipation.
‘Dan?’ she gasped into the receiver.
‘Pet! Hey, I can’t believe we finally get to talk! How are you?’
‘Shit,’ she said fervently, wrapping the cord around her wrist. ‘Total, utter, fucking shit. It’s horrible here. I hate it.’
‘Well, we never thought it was going to be fun, did we?’ Dan said sensibly. ‘You’re nearly halfway through, though.’
‘That’s easy for you to say,’ Petal grumbled. ‘You’re not here. Why’re you so late ringing me, anyway? I’ve been waiting hours!’
‘We’re recording, pet,’ he said proudly. ‘Wrote a song for the Breaking Down soundtrack, can you believe it? And looks like they’re going to do a video! Us and some sexy vampires! Amazing, eh? We’re so made up about it I can’t tell you!’
‘Sounds brilliant,’ Petal said, her words dripping with acid. ‘I’m so glad you’re having a fantastic time without me.’
&nb
sp; ‘Aw, pet, don’t be like this! I miss you – you’re my girl! But I thought you’d be pleased! This is the big time for us, yeah?’
‘I waited hours for you to ring me,’ Petal complained, tears rising to her eyes. ‘You don’t know what it’s like here, Dan. It’s like prison. I can’t do anything I want. Everyone’s horrible to me. And you couldn’t even ring me when you said you were going to . . .’
‘Pet, be reasonable,’ he pleaded. ‘I can’t just down tools and walk out halfway through a bloody song, can I, now? I shot out as soon as I could. You want me to put one of the lads on to tell you it’s true?’
‘You’ve probably got tons of groupies hanging out in front of the studio right now, don’t you?’ Petal was digging her own grave. ‘Where are you – Air?’
‘Yeah, as a matter of fact.’
Petal pictured the big studios, a sprawling, red-brick Victorian converted church on Haverstock Hill in Hampstead; she’d practically lived there when her father or his friends were recording albums. She and Tas had loved hanging out there, wandering around the other studios, being alternately petted and hit on by other musicians and producers, treated as mascots by the recording staff; the best part of all was waltzing in and out at will, past the schoolgirls and groupies and hardcore fans camped out in the parking lot, sitting forlornly on the walls, waiting patiently for their idols to emerge, casting spiteful, jealous stares at Petal and Tas with their access-all-areas passes.
‘Lots of girls waiting outside for you, are there?’ Petal continued. ‘Making goo-goo eyes at you, trying to give you their phone numbers?’
‘Pet, there’s always girls, but—’
‘I knew it! It’s so unfair!’ Petal was sobbing full out now. ‘I’m bloody trapped in here, and you’re shagging your way through half of London!’
Even gentle, mild-mannered Dan could take only so much.
‘Now hang on, pet,’ he said angrily. ‘You’ve gone too far. I said I’d wait for you, and I am. I’ve had to nip out of a really fucking important recording session to ring you – everyone’s waiting for me to get back in there, and taking the mick ’cause I’ve been fussing about ringing you – and now you’re giving me grief!’
‘I’m having a miserable time!’ Petal wept. ‘And you’re having fun without me!’
‘I’m working!’ Dan protested.
‘Well, sorry for disturbing you!’ Petal snapped. ‘How incredibly fucking selfish of me to make you ring me while you’re working! I’ll just fuck off and leave you to it!’
She slammed down the phone, plastic smashing against plastic, her heart racing with fury. And then she folded her arms and stared at it, fully expecting Dan to ring right back and apologize.
Only he didn’t.
And when, five minutes later, it dawned on Petal that he wasn’t going to, she picked the phone up and threw it against the wall.
‘Hey!’ Daniyel promptly emerged from her office. ‘What’s going on in here?’
Petal was in floods of tears.‘I hate it here!’ she sobbed. ‘You’re all trying to ruin my life!’
‘Now, honey, you know that’s not true,’ Daniyel said soothingly. ‘But you can’t throw things just ’cause you’re not happy right now.’
‘I don’t even have a photo of him!’ Petal wept. ‘I didn’t even have time to get a photo of him done!’
She looked so forlorn, curled up in a ball on the sofa, weeping her heart out, that Daniyel reflected for a moment, then turned on her heel and went back inside the office, emerging with Petal’s black sparkle-encrusted mobile.
‘Here,’ she said, holding it out to Petal. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this. And if I see you acting out at all, any infraction of the rules, I’ll have it back off you faster than you can spit. Now pick up that phone you threw and put it back on the table before I give you this one.’
Petal jumped to obey, replacing the phone and then grabbing her mobile. Eyes lighting up, she immediately flicked it on, dying to call Dan back.
‘There’s no signal!’ she said, vastly disappointed.
Daniyel grinned. ‘Oh, no, honey. I’m not that nice. We’ve got a blocking system here – we triangulate from different buildings, or some such. You can look at your boyfriend’s photo all you want, but you can’t ring him outside of the designated hours for cellphone use. There won’t be another window till tomorrow. And I’ll be keeping an eye on you till then, seeing if you’re behaving, OK?’
‘Oh, shit,’ Petal said, vastly disappointed.
Turning on her heel, she slumped off down the corridor, heading for the garden. She wanted to throw herself on the grass, in the shade of a tree, and have a big private sulk; but as soon as she reached the patio, and took in the scene outside, she realized that wouldn’t be possible. Joe Jeffreys was stretched out on a lounger in the sunshine; Amber was on another lounger; and Skye, attention-hogging as ever, was doing stretches in the middle of the lawn, showing off her splits and giggling as Joe watched her with great enthusiasm.
Petal glanced over at Brian, who was sitting by the fountain, listening to music on his headphones, staring over at the group on the lawn with undisguised wistfulness.
Great, she thought sourly. It’s like being at school. The cool kids and the nerds.
Petal had hung out with Brian before, talking about music, bands they liked, listening to tracks on Brian’s MP3 player. Right then, however, she was in a filthy mood, and she was damned if she was going to go and sit with Brian in the rejects’ section. Maybe if Brian had looked up, seen her, waved her over . . . but he was so busy gawking at Skye and her antics that he didn’t even notice Petal’s arrival.
At least I get my room to myself during the day. Petal trudged back there, shut the door, turned off all the lights and curled up in bed. Feelings of rejection and abandonment were flooding through her, and not just because her longed-for conversation with Dan had been such a disaster. All her life, she’d watched other women be more important to her father than she was. When her useless mother was still around, she’d hogged all Gold’s attention, at first by being sexy, and then, when Gold’s eye started wandering, by throwing ever more extreme and crazy scenes. After that, the procession of girlfriends, mistresses and one-night stands had always taken priority with Gold. Petal had been more of a nuisance than anything else.
All of this was, reluctantly, coming up in therapy; in the group sessions, and in her talks with Dr Raf. It was hard and painful, and Petal wasn’t enjoying it one bit. And somehow, seeing Joe with Skye and Amber was bringing it back even more powerfully. It was like reliving a bad experience all over again. There was Joe, the world-famous, incredibly sexy film star, with the model and the stripper all over him, as far as Petal could see. And next to those girls, no one gave Petal a glance.
Apart from Dr Raf. He was the only person here who looked at Petal and really saw her. When he focused his attention on her, she felt like the only person in the room. Back in London, Petal had deliberately surrounded herself with a posse as soon as she could; Tas, JC, and all her other party friends made sure that she was never alone unless she really wanted to be. From the moment she met Dan, they’d lived in each other’s pockets.
And now she was not only all alone, but being totally ignored by practically everyone.
Amber deliberately hogs Dr Raf whenever she can. She’s such a cow. I hate her.
Skye’s just throwing herself at Joe, like a complete slut. He’s got a fiancée, and Skye doesn’t even care. She’s fucking him right here in rehab, when they’re both here for sex addiction! How messed up is that!
Misery, loneliness and frustration turned slowly into resentment. Gradually, as Petal lay on her bed, all the problems she was inexpertly wrestling morphed into being the fault of Amber and Skye. They were both acting like all those women in Petal’s past, who’d trampled right over her to get to her dad. Or the ones now, in London, who were throwing themselves at Dan.
Skye doesn’t give a shit that Joe’s engaged to
Jennifer Downs. And Amber’s totally throwing herself at Dr Raf.
I hate them both.
Skye
Skye hadn’t expected to like Amber one little bit. Gorgeous, fragile, and so vulnerable that every man in a mile-wide radius was panting to look after her and cushion her from the cruel hard world, Amber was exactly the kind of rival every girl like Skye dreaded. No way could Skye compete with Amber. Because while every man alive might want to fuck Skye, Amber was the girl he’d want to marry.
And yet,Amber hadn’t turned out to be the man’s woman Skye had assumed she was. She seemed genuinely grateful for Skye’s offer of friendship, genuinely eager to open up to her, and genuinely willing not to compete with Skye for Joe’s attention.
The trouble, of course, was that Amber was competition just by existing. All she had to do was waft into a room, her delicate cardigans and shawls trailing behind her, chestnut hair tumbling down her back, her slanting green eyes focused on distant horizons, for Joe to sigh and stare at her wistfully.
And now that Amber was back in their bedroom again, Skye couldn’t slip out at night, or sneak Joe in there, to fuck his brains out so thoroughly that all thoughts of Amber were blotted out by the raging hard-on he had for Skye.
Plus, I need to film him doing it! she reminded herself firmly. That’s what I’m here for! That’s what I’m being paid for!
It was surprisingly easy to forget that fact. Daily life at Cascabel was unexpectedly absorbing. In her near-daily sessions with Dr Lucy, Skye was having a lot of fun feeding Dr Lucy made-up stories and watching her spin around them like a kid with a new toy, not smart enough to figure out that Skye was lying through her teeth. In Skye’s opinion, Dr Lucy shouldn’t be here at Cascabel at all.
She totally doesn’t care about people, Skye thought as she left her most recent session, watching Dr Lucy’s cold dark-pencilled eyes snap down to her paperwork again with relief at not having a living breathing human being to talk to any more. She should be in research – cutting up animals, or something. I bet she’s only here to be close to Dr Raf.
Bad Girls Page 23
