“Yes, I’m still here.” He looked at Layla. “Obviously.” He walked towards her, heading for the exit. He really had no interest in talking to her. He wasn’t in the mood. “But I’m on my way home now.”
She stood aside to let him through, smiling at him in a way Michael didn’t really appreciate.
“It’s still early,” she smiled. “Why don’t you join me for a drink? I know a little bar round the corner from here, it’s nice and quiet. We wouldn’t be disturbed.”
Was she coming onto him? Michael didn’t know whether to be appalled or laugh. “I’ve got things to do, Layla. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Come on, Michael.”
Since when did she start calling him Michael? He’d only known her five minutes and he hadn’t actually spoken to her outside of director mode, until now.
“Layla, I said I’m busy. Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to go home. And call my wife.”
She looked at him, still smiling, but he didn’t return it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “On set.”
Layla twirled her baby blonde hair round one finger, her eyes following him as he walked past her. “I’m sure you will. Mr Walsh.”
He turned round again, looking straight at her. “Look, Layla, I’m not sure what you’re playing at here but I’m not interested, ok? You’re an actress who just happens to be in my movie, that’s all. I’m married, and I love my wife. Very much.”
“I know.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I just thought, maybe, you could give me some advice, you know, as to how I’m getting on.”
“You’re getting on just fine. Now go home and get some sleep. I don’t want you looking like crap in the morning.”
He started to walk away again but she wasn’t giving up.
“The offer still stands you know. For that drink. Maybe we can make it another time?”
Michael didn’t respond. How could she ever think he’d be interested in her when he had India? He didn’t need this. He especially didn’t need it from some fame hungry actress who was starring in the same film as India’s father. That was one headache he could do without.
Pulling out his ‘phone he called India at the villa in Vegas, and got Bobby.
“Oh, hello, Mr Walsh. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Bobby. Can I speak to India?”
“You could, but she’s not here.”
“Where is she?” Michael was irritated now. He really needed to speak to her.
“She’s gone out with Kenny. She’s got her cell ‘phone with her, you can call her on that.”
Michael sighed, throwing his bag into the front seat of the car. “Ok. Thanks, Bobby.”
“No problem, Mr Walsh.”
Michael flipped the ‘phone shut and climbed in behind the wheel, shutting the door and sitting back for a second, before taking his ‘phone out again and punching in another number.
“Did you see her go out with Kenny Ross?” His voice was more than a little agitated. “Because if you did, there better be a damn good reason why you haven’t told me about it.”
“We’re onto it, Mr Walsh.”
“You’d better be. I’m not paying you to miss things. I should have known about this. Was he at the villa?”
“He arrived at about 8.45pm and they left together at 9.30. They’re in a bar on The Strip.”
“Keep your eye on them. And keep me updated.”
He ended the call and punched in India’s number. She answered after three rings.
“Hey, Mikey! How are you?”
Just hearing her voice made him instantly relax and he sat back and closed his eyes as he spoke to her. “I’m fine, honey. Just fine.”
“You sound tired. You’re not still at work are you?”
“Just leaving.”
“Michael! You’re overdoing it. Do you need to be there this late?”
He paused for a second, just wanting to picture her face. “I miss you, India.”
“Hey, I miss you too. But, listen, I’ve just found out I’ve got a bit of time off in a few days so I’ll be coming home to L.A. for a short break.”
He sat up, pulling the rear view mirror round and looking into it. He looked exhausted. “Oh, baby, that’ll be great. That’ll be really great. How’s it going over there?”
“The same as it was when you called me three hours ago. Did you call the villa first?”
“Yeah. Bobby said you were out. With Kenny.” The words almost stuck in his throat.
“We’re just having a beer and playing some pool. I’m getting tired now though, so I’ll be heading back to the villa soon.”
Without Kenny, Michael hoped. “I love you, India.”
“Are you ok, Michael?”
He closed his eyes again. He felt tired himself now. Really tired. “I’m fine. Just missing you more than I thought I would.”
“I love you too,” she said quietly. “Call me in the morning, ok?”
“What time are you getting up?”
“Got a 7am alarm call. It’s called Bobby.”
Michael smiled. Bobby was no threat, but that wasn’t who he was worried about. “I’ll call you at 6.30 then. That’ll give us time for a wake up call of our own.”
“You got it, mister. Dream about me, ok?”
“Oh, I think that’s a given, baby. Speak to you in the morning.”
He flipped the ‘phone shut, threw it onto the passenger seat and started the car. The amount of times they’d been apart before, the amount of times they’d been in this situation, none of them had felt like this. But then, none of those times had involved her being this close to Kenny Ross for so long, and that’s what Michael was finding difficult to deal with. India and Kenny, they were friends, sure, he knew that, but he also knew all about their history. He knew they’d crossed lines before and it wasn’t going to happen again. Michael was not going to take that risk. Kenny Ross was not going to win this one. India may not be able to see that having a family was the best thing for her right now but she would, eventually. She’d see that that’s where her future lay. She’d have his kids one day, he knew she would, he could talk her round. And once that happened Kenny Ross would cease to be important. Then, and only then, would Michael Walsh be truly happy.
***
India sat by the bar, her legs stretched out over the stool opposite her, swigging from a bottle of beer. Kenny thought it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
She’d taken precisely five minutes to get changed at the villa, running downstairs in jeans, t-shirt and biker boots, her hair out of the curlers and loose around her shoulders and she’d looked amazing. A couple of flicks of a mascara wand and a dash of lip gloss and she’d been ready to go.
They’d gone to one of Kenny’s favourite places on The Strip, drank a few beers and played some pool. India always managed to attract attention wherever she went and tonight had been no exception, but then, having a beautiful and famous movie actress bending over a pool table was always going to mean people looked. Kenny just couldn’t help thinking of Michael’s reaction if he knew what was going on and it made him smile because he had absolutely no idea how much attention his wife was attracting. And India hadn’t exactly spurned that attention either. She’d harmlessly flirted back, smiling and laughing with everyone and Kenny was loving every minute of this night with her. It was just like old times. But, despite being in a city that was open round the clock, he could tell India was tired. She’d had a bit too much to drink too, and that was probably his fault.
“I think I need to go home, Kenny.”
He smiled at her, taking the bottle out of her hand and putting it down on the bar. “Yeah, you’re probably right. We’ve got an early call in the morning.”
“It is morning.”
He looked up at the clock. It was quarter to one. “Oh, yeah. So it is. Come on you; let’s walk back to the hotel. The fresh air’ll do us good.”
She stood up, taking his hand, an action which wasn’t unusual for those two. There’d been many times over the past few years when they’d gone to premieres or parties together – when Michael had been away or unable to attend – and they’d walked the red carpet holding hands. It was just what they did. They always had. People accepted it.
Kenny squeezed her hand and smiled at her again. “I am so gonna get shit from make-up tomorrow if you wake up with a hangover.”
“I’ve looked like crap before and they’ve always managed to work miracles. And it’s amazing what good lighting can do.”
“That’s what I love about you, India. You’re such an optimist.”
She kicked him, although not hard enough to hurt. “Funny bugger. Come on. I need my bed.”
“Yeah,” he said, leading her out of the bar, all eyes - well, male ones anyway - still very much on her. “Me too.”
They laughed practically all the way back to the villa, partly because they were a little bit drunk and partly because some things about Vegas could just be so funny. Their sense of humour could be quite childish at times too, which didn’t help, especially on top of the alcohol.
“Are you coming in then?” India asked as they arrived at the villa. “For a nightcap?”
“It’s almost time for breakfast,” Kenny smiled, even though he wanted to, of course he wanted to. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with her.
“Is that a no then?” she asked, leaning back against the front door.
“It’s a no. For tonight, anyway. I think we both need to get some sleep.”
“I hate sleeping without Michael,” she said, opening the door then turning round to kiss him quickly on the cheek. “He always cuddles me in bed. It’s nice.”
She was drunk. She was definitely drunk.
“See you tomorrow, Kenny.”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
He waited until she was inside before making his way back to the hotel, deciding that maybe a nightcap wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He could cope on little or no sleep; it was something he was good at. He didn’t think he’d sleep much tonight anyway. He had too much on his mind.
The hotel was still buzzing when he got to the bar, the noise of the slot machines and the casino filling the air. It was waking him up again, making him feel alive.
Sliding up onto a stool by the bar he ordered a whisky and looked around the place. Another thing he loved about Vegas was the sheer mix of people it attracted. All walks of life could be under one roof and, as an avid people-watcher, Kenny always found it interesting to study what was going on around him.
He took a drink and scanned the room, trying to find somebody interesting to focus on, smiling at the sight of a couple obviously off to tie the knot in some wedding chapel or other, both very young, the girl clutching a small bouquet of flowers in her short, white wedding dress, all smiles and excitement as she ran out of the bar, followed by her just-as-young groom and a handful of over-excited friends. Las Vegas. A place where getting married at 2.30 in the morning wasn’t an unusual occurrence. After all, him and India had done it themselves, hadn’t they?
The thought of their short-lived Vegas wedding still haunted him every day because every day he thought about what it might have been like if they’d still been married. It would have been something like nine years now, if it had lasted.
He finished his drink and ordered another one, determined not to go back over all the ‘what if’s’ in his head again, it wasn’t worth it. She was married to someone else now. He’d burned every bridge he had as far as India was concerned. Or had he? Had he really? Wasn’t there still something there? Or was he just kidding himself? The early hours of the morning – even in Vegas – could sometimes make things seem different to how they really were.
He finished his second whisky in one go, deciding that maybe bed was the best option now, before he started to wallow in self-pity. But, as he put his empty glass down on the bar and swung round on his stool, someone caught his eye and he had to look twice to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. It was her, he was sure it was her. Charley Miles. Large as life and here in Vegas.
CHAPTER 36
“Jesus, I feel like crap,” India groaned, walking into the kitchen wrapped in the biggest and most luxurious dressing gown she’d ever worn. She was going to ask Vince if she could keep it.
Bobby looked up at her as he handed her a cup of coffee. “Yes, well, I’m keeping my mouth shut.”
“That’ll be a first.” She took a sip. “Tea, Bobby, I have tea in the morning. I’m British.”
“And you live in America so sit down and drink it.”
“Anyone ever told you you’re incredibly bossy?”
“Frequently.” He handed her some aspirin. “What time did you get to bed then, missy?”
She looked up at him as she knocked the tablets back with her coffee. “Who are you? My mother?”
He pulled a face and continued to fuss around the kitchen, sliding some bread into the toaster. “I was only asking. I never heard you come in, that’s all.”
“I got back around 2am, or something like that. Then the next thing I know Michael’s call woke me up at 6 0’clock.”
Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Early morning ‘phone calls, huh?”
She looked at him again. “Yeah. And?”
He got some butter and marmalade out of the fridge and put them down in front of her. “And nothing. You’re very defensive this morning, madam.”
She sighed, pulling the dressing gown tighter around her, resting her chin in one hand, watching Bobby retrieve the toast from the toaster.
“I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a bit below par. I don’t even remember drinking that much.”
“You probably didn’t, when you were out. But you forget you had three cocktails and a vodka before you even left the house.”
“Oh. Yeah. So I did. Bobby, I’m not that hungry.”
He put the toast down in front of her. “Eat something or you’ll have me following you round all day trying to force feed you and I’m sure you don’t want that. Come on, you’ve got a days filming ahead of you.” He sat down opposite her. “Were you this grumpy with Mr Walsh?”
She couldn’t help smiling at the mention of Michael’s name. “No. He kind of made me feel better actually.”
“Hmmm, I’m sure he did.” He looked at her and she stared back.
“You’re not getting details so forget it.”
“And I thought you told me everything,” he sighed, a look of mock disappointment on his face, and India laughed.
“Ow! ... that hurt! I’m gonna kill Kenny.”
“You’ll be fine. Once you’re in make-up you’ll feel much better, and God knows so will the rest of us because, right now, you are not a pretty sight, India Walsh.”
She looked at him, sticking her tongue out. She would have liked to have thrown something at him but she didn’t think she had the energy.
“If only Mr Walsh could see you now,” he laughed, and India couldn’t help but laugh again. Even if it did hurt.
“Pack it in, Bobby. And anyway, Michael’s seen me in much worse states than this.”
“Then he must really love you, angel.”
“I could fire you y’know.”
“You wouldn’t dare. You’d fall apart without me.” He leaned forward and planted a small kiss on her forehead. “Come on, missy. Finish off that coffee, eat a mouthful of something then get upstairs and make yourself presentable. While you’re up there I’ll ring Mr Brogan’s secretary and organise the ‘plane to come and get you on the 24th. Ok?”
She smiled at him. He was an absolute angel, someone she really couldn’t do without and she loved him to bits. Even the nagging.
“Thanks, Bobby. You’re the best.”
“I know,” he smiled, winking at her. “But it doesn’t hurt to hear you say it.”
***
Reece sat on the sidelines, watching everything going on aroun
d him. He was enjoying making this movie because Michael had a way of directing that made things fun and put everyone at ease. He had a wonderfully energetic personality when he was working. At the beginning of his movie career Michael Walsh had been known mainly for his comedy acting, and that was evident sometimes in the way he got things across, with the confidence only an actor and comedian could carry off. He was friendly, amiable and obviously loved what he was doing, but there were also times when Reece would catch him just sitting quietly on his own, almost withdrawing into himself and letting nobody in. He knew that he missed India and he knew what was on his mind concerning the whole Kenny thing and it still worried Reece. It was at these times that he felt he couldn’t really read Michael, couldn’t quite work out what was going on in his head. He and Martha had tried inviting him out to dinner or over to their place for drinks and some company but he seemed to prefer either being at the studio until all hours or just going home by himself. Reece was glad India was paying a flying visit to L.A. in a couple of days. He couldn’t wait to see her. He was missing her too. Just not half as much as her husband obviously was.
As he turned his attention back to what was going on around him he noticed Layla Boyd arriving on set, smiling that little girl smile she was so fond of flashing around and he didn’t miss the one she gave Michael, biting down on her bottom lip as she looked at him. Was she batting her eyelids? Reece leaned forward, watching as Michael turned his back on her to concentrate on what he was doing, but he also noticed how that didn’t seem to be putting Layla off in any way.
Reece knew quite a bit about Layla Boyd. He knew that her mother was Sofia Vincelli, an Italian actress who’d never quite made it as big as she’d wanted to in Hollywood and was now trying to live her life through her daughter. He knew her father, Calvin Boyd, headed up one of the biggest casting agencies in L.A. and therefore played a big part in getting his daughter’s name known around town but so far he’d yet to get the leading role for Layla that his wife was looking for. He also knew Layla’s mother was her manager. She accompanied Layla everywhere and therefore looked after everything she did and Reece knew that she was determined that Layla would have the fame she’d never quite managed to achieve. And he also knew that there was nothing Sofia wouldn’t make her daughter do in order to get that fame, including making connections with the right people, whoever they turned out to be. If they happened to be the person Sofia thought could help turn her daughter into a star then they were fair game in her eyes, and nobody else was going to get in the way. It was quite obvious to Reece, as he watched mother and daughter talk, that the connection here was Michael Walsh. And that made Reece very nervous indeed.
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