“Sounds good to me,” she said, and then went off to take a shower, and a few minutes later she was in bed next to him, and cuddled up close to his body. She noticed that he was naked, and she peeled off the T-shirt she had worn as a nightgown, and they lay pressed against each other as he kissed her, and she was even happier that she’d come home.
“I miss you when you’re on location,” he whispered to her, and she kissed him again. Palm Springs was hardly a hardship location. There were films she had made where she’d spent six months in the jungle, three months living in a village in Africa, and they had been in places where civil war had broken out while they were there. Palm Springs was a piece of cake, and it was only two hours from home. They’d be coming back from location soon anyway, and it was a little bit like a vacation when he came out to spend the night with her.
“I miss you too,” she whispered as he started to make love to her, and after that she forgot everything but him.
Afterward, they lay in each other’s arms and talked for a few minutes, and she had to fight to stay awake. She was so peaceful and at ease, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She put an arm around him, and while he was still talking to her and stroking her hair, Tallie fell sound asleep.
Chapter 3
BRIGITTE WAS IN the driveway at four-thirty the next morning, right on time, as always. No matter what she did the night before, she always came to work on schedule, whatever the hour. She texted Tallie that she was there, and she came out of the house barefoot and carrying her shoes, and closed the door silently behind her. Tallie ran to the Aston Martin and got in. She had showered again and her hair was wet, and if possible she looked an even bigger mess than she had the day before. She was wearing another pair of ratty, torn denim cut-off shorts with a T-shirt that was in shreds.
“Is that fashionable and you paid a fortune for it,” Brigitte asked, referring to the shirt with fascination, “or did you get it at Goodwill?” There were in fact items of clothing that looked like that, wrecked by trendy designers who tore the clothes before they sold them. Max was always buying things with that look at Max-field’s. Tallie usually created hers for free, but with her you never knew. She rarely spent much on clothes. And designer anything was of no interest to her.
“No,” Tallie said happily, “I got this shirt out of the garbage. Hunt threw it away, but I hated to waste it. It looks like it still has some life in it.” She seemed pleased.
“As what? A rag at a car wash? You’re the only woman I know who makes the kind of money you do and dresses out of the garbage.” Brigitte laughed as they drove down the street.
“If I told you it came from Maxfield’s, would it be chic?”
“Of course,” Brigitte said without hesitation.
“Okay, then pretend it did. I don’t have time to worry about the way I look.” She never did. It wasn’t on her priority list. She cared about what was in her head, not on her back, unlike most of the women she knew, and Brigitte certainly, who wore new designer clothes almost every day. Brigitte spent most of her salary on jewelry and clothes. She liked to say that she had an image to keep up, since she represented Tallie Jones. But Tallie didn’t give a damn about that herself.
She called Max in New York on the way to Palm Springs, and caught her just as she was leaving for school. Max said she had just been calling to check in the day before, to see how she was and how the movie was coming.
“It’s going great. We’re pretty much on schedule, and we should be back in L.A. in a few weeks. What’s happening with you? How’s school?” Tallie loved talking to her, and called her as often as she could.
“It’s okay. I met a new boy in the library last week. He seems pretty cool. He’s in pre-med.” Her romances always worried Tallie, realizing that she’d only been two years older when she fell for the cowboy from Montana and got pregnant with Max. But it didn’t seem like the kind of thing she would do. Max was less naïve than Tallie had been at the same age, and Tallie felt now that if her mother hadn’t died a few years before that, she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant and had a baby. She was pretty lost for a while, although her father had always been there for her. But she was sure her mother would have handled it differently, and probably wouldn’t have insisted she get married, which her father did. The whole event had been a big mistake, except that she had gotten a terrific daughter out of it, and was grateful for that. Max was a wonderful kid, and had never caused her mother a moment of grief. And her aspirations to be a lawyer like her grandfather sounded good to Tallie. She didn’t want her in the movie business. It was too hard a life, full of unstable people, and a crazy world. She had never encouraged her to hang out with movie stars’ children, although Max had met several at school. But she was a levelheaded girl, and some of the stars’ children were surprisingly nice kids too. Max had always avoided the bad ones, and had a knack for gathering wholesome young people around her.
“Have a nice day, Mom,” she said cheerfully after a few minutes, and they hung up, and then Tallie remembered to tell Brigitte about the audit for their Japanese investor. Tallie asked her to call Victor Carson, their accountant, and ask him to cooperate fully with them, and give them whatever they wanted.
“At least you don’t have to do the work on it,” Tallie said to her, looking relaxed as she pulled out the script.
“I’ll give Victor whatever he wants, if he needs anything from me.” Brigitte was good with figures and kept impeccable track of all of Tallie’s bills. There was never a problem about not having bills or receipts for whatever she paid for. After the first several years of chasing Tallie around to sign the checks, they had set up an account where Brigitte could sign them to pay all her bills. It saved Tallie the time and headache, and Brigitte kept meticulous accounts of everything. She had a charge card she used for Tallie’s expenditures as well, and she handled everything for Max, who lived in the apartment Tallie owned in New York.
She and Victor worked well together, and Tallie counted on both of them to keep her financial life in order. With Brigitte at the helm, it ran like a Swiss clock. Hunt always said he was envious of her and wished he had an assistant like Brigitte. She was even helpful to him too, and never minded assisting him with anything.
Tallie read the script changes on the way back to Palm Springs, and they had faxed several more to Brigitte at midnight the night before. She had brought those with her too, and Tallie went over all of it, while making copious notes. She wanted more changes when they got to the set, which did not surprise Brigitte. That was how she worked, vigilant about the tiniest detail.
“So what did you do last night?” she asked her assistant as they approached Palm Springs.
“Nothing much. Took a bath, read, answered some e-mails. I went to bed pretty early. I need my beauty sleep,” Brigitte said innocently. The one thing she never told Tallie about was the actors she got involved with on the set. Once in a while Tallie found out, and she didn’t say anything about it. She had a don’t ask, don’t tell attitude, and figured that it was one of the perks of Brigitte’s job, if that was what she wanted, and it seemed to be. Tallie didn’t think it was worth the trouble commenting on it since Brigitte’s on-set romances never lasted longer than the making of the film. It was fine with her, as long as she didn’t put Tallie in a compromising position of some kind, or promise favors she couldn’t deliver, but Brigitte was too smart for that, and never stepped over that line. So Tallie figured that whoever Brigitte slept with was none of her business. She looked a little too innocent to her employer and old friend as they drove along, and Tallie smiled, wondering who it was. Undoubtedly someone very young, one of the extras or young actors. That was always Brigitte’s style.
Tallie’s day on the set was as busy as the one before. Brigitte stuck around and brought her cold drinks and hot ones, and saw to it that she got something to eat. Otherwise Tallie never took the time, she was too impatient and had too much to do to stop for meals. It was the same reason why she didn’t
bother to dress decently and comb her hair. Tallie was obsessed with her work, and hated anything that distracted her from it or took a moment of her time away.
Brigitte answered e-mails, and made several calls for her. She called Victor Carson and told him about the audit, and when she had nothing else to do, she sat and watched the action on the set. She often gave Tallie very valuable critiques. She had a great eye, and she always knew exactly the nuance and impact that Tallie was trying to get. Tallie respected her candid opinions much of the time. Brigitte had learned a lot about the business over the years.
It was another good day, and Tallie talked to Hunt when she finished work. He was on his way to a meeting at the Polo Lounge, and told her about what he’d done all day. He said he missed her, and after a few minutes they hung up. She liked that neither of them felt they had to be together all the time, like Siamese twins. They lived together but had their own lives, with joint projects as a common bond. But he never got antsy or jealous when she was away, and she didn’t worry about him. After four years they trusted each other and knew each other well.
Hunt was an entirely different kind of man from the ones she’d been involved with before, all of whom had eventually cheated on her. Her second husband had been the most glaring case of that, but the others hadn’t behaved much better. It was the kind of men she met in the film business. She liked the fact that Hunt was honest, true, and solid. He wasn’t as exciting as the other guys in some ways, but she wasn’t looking for excitement, she wanted a man she could love and trust. Otherwise, why bother? She had come to that conclusion a long time ago, and had learned it the hard way, after being burned too many times. He was essentially and profoundly a kind man. He mentioned to her before he hung up that everything had gone fine when he took her father for his tests, although he thought he was looking a little thin.
“I know. His housekeeper says he doesn’t eat enough,” Tallie said, sounding worried.
“I should go over and cook for him sometime,” he said thoughtfully.
“As though you have nothing else to do,” she said.
“I can make time. I love your dad, he’s a great guy. We had a good time today. I think he was a little nervous before we went. I told him all my new jokes, and he was fine by the time we got there.”
“Thank you for doing that,” she said, genuinely touched. These were the things that made her love Hunt, and there were a lot of them. He was an extremely thoughtful person, and he had always been equally good to Max. The two of them got along very well. Max had been fourteen when Tallie started dating him, and after a little initial resistance, she had relaxed. And by the time Hunt moved in a year later, it seemed like a natural evolution to all of them, even Tallie’s father, who was a little more old-fashioned about things like that. He called Hunt his “son in love.”
Tallie settled in at the hotel in Palm Springs that night. She was happy that things were going well on the film. None of the usual nightmares had happened, like problems with insurance, investors, actors who got sick or tried to break their contracts, hated each other, or got injured on the set. Those things didn’t happen to her often, but when they did, it was a mess. Tallie always tried to avoid problems by hiring actors with reputations for being reliable, and getting all the kinks in their contracts worked out beforehand. Hunt was brilliant at handling those details, which was why their joint productions were such a success. She loved working with him. He was the best producer she’d ever had. And Tallie drove herself hard, was tireless in her efforts to get the best performance possible out of each actor, and the best writers and scripts she could. She deserved the remarkable reputation she had.
And she was content relaxing at the hotel that night. She and Brigitte went for a swim at the pool, and Brigitte had arranged for a massage for Tallie in her room, which Tallie said afterward was heavenly. She suggested Brigitte get one too, which was a perk Brigitte thoroughly enjoyed. The lifestyle that Brigitte shared with Tallie, and benefited from because of her, suited her to perfection. Thanks to Tallie, she led a star’s life.
Victor Carson was staring at a mountain of papers, files, and spreadsheets on his desk. He had been Tallie’s financial adviser for fifteen years, and other than the details Brigitte handled, his firm did all the accounting for her. And when Brigitte called to tell him about the audit for the investor, he almost groaned aloud. It was a headache he just didn’t need. His life was complicated enough as it was. His own problems were precluding everything else. He didn’t know why they were requiring an independent audit. All he needed were a bunch of hostile auditors taking all his records and files apart and demanding explanations for them. Tallie’s affairs were in good order, but an audit would be incredibly time-consuming, even with someone else doing it, and possibly more so, if he had to explain everything to them. Normally, he and Brigitte handled everything and it was smooth as silk. He just didn’t have the time to spend on this, but there was no way he could say that to Hunt or Tallie. He was having personal problems, although he would never have admitted it to them. He now handled Hunt’s taxes as well as Brigitte’s. But right now, he had his hands full at home.
Women had always been Victor’s nemesis. His first wife had cost him a fortune in alimony and a settlement twenty years before when she discovered that he had a mistress, a beautiful Italian model. He left his wife for her and married her. He had had two children with his first wife, and had twins with the second. Two years later she adapted to the American ways he had taught her, left him for someone much younger than he was, and took him to the cleaners. She’d eventually gone to Paris, married someone there, and he hadn’t seen his twin daughters in eighteen years. They were strangers to him, and he had been paying child support for them until that year. Fortunately his two older children were now adults and employed, and their mother had remarried, but for several years he had been supporting two ex-wives and four children.
And more recently, some bad investments made by his own financial adviser had lost him a considerable amount of money. He took far better care of his clients than he did of his own affairs. And at sixty-two, he had fallen madly in love with a young aspiring actress, and married her after a sexually charged weekend in Las Vegas. He had promised to use all his connections in Hollywood to help launch her career, which had turned out to be not as easy as he’d thought. As it turned out, Brianna had no talent, her screen tests had been a disaster, and the only work she’d been able to get was as a bathing suit model at trade shows, which was not what she’d had in mind.
Victor had just turned sixty-five, Brianna was twenty-nine and threatening to divorce him if he didn’t make good on his promises to establish her career in either movies or TV. She was great in bed, but not on the screen. And she hadn’t slept with him in six months anyway. She spent all her time getting plastic surgery, shopping up and down Rodeo Drive, and demanding money from him. She had threatened to leave him only the week before, and he didn’t want her to. As impossible as she was, she was a breath of excitement and glamour in his otherwise dull life and he was crazy about her. She seemed like the perfect trophy wife to him. He loved going out with her on his arm, and watching other men look at him with envy, or so he thought. Anyone who had spent an evening with her would have pitied him instead. But he was besotted and didn’t want to lose her, whatever it took. And the truth was, with his recent financial losses, he couldn’t afford her anymore, and he didn’t want her to know. He could barely cover her shopping habit. She was constantly angry at him and demanding things, or trying to improve on body parts she had already had altered before. She had had her first set of implants redone, a tummy tuck, a buttock lift, and recently had liposuction on her thighs. But whatever it took to keep her, he was willing to pay the price. It was cheaper than alimony and a settlement. But he didn’t know where to get the money from anymore. He felt like a magician pulling rabbits out of a hat.
He was much too busy juggling his own money to want to spend time on Tallie’s audit, which
would be time-consuming. He had just promised to take Brianna to Europe, and if he reneged on that now, he was sure she’d leave him. She wanted to go to Brazil to check out a plastic surgeon there. His life had been a descent into hell for the past three years, and losing a large amount of money recently was putting his life and marriage at risk. There was no question in his mind that if Brianna knew, she’d leave him. Flat. His children would be happy if she did, but Victor would be devastated.
He left his office at eight o’clock that night and went home. Brianna was waiting for him, and the result of her day’s catch was still in shopping bags near the front door. He winced when he saw the familiar names. Dolce and Gabbana, Roberto Cavalli, Neiman’s, and Chanel. It was a full-time job for her, and as far as she was concerned, the only reason to be married to a man his age. Victor Carson was not an exciting man, and he looked older than his age. He wasn’t attractive, and Brianna was only interested in what he could do for her. He always meant to diet but never got around to it, and had never been to a gym in his life. And he had lost his hair in his early thirties. But he adored his beautiful young wife and was totally dazzled by her. Other men longed for expensive cars, or large blocks of real estate, or dreamed of success. All Victor ever wanted was a beautiful young woman in his bed. It had cost him two marriages and some very heavy debts so far, and he was well on his way to the same fate again. Unless he won the lottery, there was no way Brianna was going to stay with him.
“You’re late,” she said petulantly when he walked in.
“I had a lot to do today,” mostly trying to figure out how to pay her bills, but the upcoming audit for Tallie had caused him additional work. He had to get his assistants working on organizing her files.
“I want to go out to dinner,” she pouted at him. She had had her lips modeled on Angelina Jolie’s and had a fearsome pout.
Betrayal Page 3
