“Ty, I did love you. I still do. I know our marriage was a drunken impulse, but I tried, I really did.”
Her body shook, and he held her tighter. No way could she fake that, or the cold sweat that glazed her skin.
“I don’t mean to be unreasonable. I just didn’t realize how much I truly loved you until it was already over. And I know that if you love a person you should let him go, and I know I should.” She pulled her head from his chest and looked up at his face. “I know you want to be with Carrie, and I’m okay with that. I just need one last thing from you.”
“What’s that?”
She brought her hands to his face and lifted her lips to his. “To say goodbye.”
Ty stiffened, and his instinct was to push her away, but if this was what she needed to ease the pain he caused her, he’d allow it. Her lips were hard and forceful. Demanding yet, passionless, and completely ineffective in stirring any emotion within him. If this kiss was goodbye, it seemed well-suited. If this was what their love life was like, then there would be nothing about it to miss.
A sudden bang at the kitchen window drove them from each other’s arms. Ty dragged his sleeve across his mouth and squinted into the dusk. “What the fuck was that!”
“The hell if I know.”
Ty threw open the sliding glass door and stepped on to the patio. His vision adjusted just in time to see a man with a camera leap over the wall and disappear into the brush on the other side.
“Chill out,” Layla said from the door way. “It’s just the paparazzi.”
“No shit, how the hell did he get in here?”
“They have their ways, I suppose.”
He eyed his ex-wife in the lamplight. Her tears had dried and her skin had found its color. He took a few steps closer, and he swore he saw her lips fight a smile. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you the least bit concerned that a man just snuck on to private property and photographed a moment that was supposed to be just between us?”
“Shit happens.” She shrugged. “Look, I should get going. I told Marcy I’d meet her after.”
Ty cocked his head at her choice of words. She was already half way to the front door when he caught up to her. “Hold on, what do you mean ‘after?’ After what?”
“After meeting you.”
“I thought you said you had no idea I’d be here?” Again, she turned toward the door, but he grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. “Hey listen. You wouldn’t be lying to me now, would you?”
“Give Carrie Ann my regards.” She winked and slung her rhinestone purse over her shoulder before heading out.
The Maserati engine sounded fine to him, when she gunned the thing and squealed out the driveway. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled. Something told him he’d just played a scene in his ex-wife’s personal performance.
***
Harvey hid in the bushes near the curb. He ran the whole half-mile, no small feat for a guy who still smoked a pack-a-day and was overweight by both Hollywood and surgeon general standards. He’d been waiting for her at least ten minutes and was still panting. By the itch on his butt cheek he was sure he had planted himself on an ant hill.
At least he wasn’t freezing to death like he had been back East. When he got the word that “The Olivia Show” had been re-scheduled for the west coast studio, he wasted no time in booking a flight. Thank God, too. Sweating his ass off in paradise was better than freezing to death in hell. Besides he wanted to give Layla the news about Earl Simmons in person.
The roar of a sports engine filled his ears as it approached the intersection in front of him. It lurched to a stop, and the tinted window rolled down, revealing a pale-face blond with pink-tinted shades, expensive enough they allowed vision in the dusk. “Harvey, get in the damn car!” The woman hissed. “Hurry up! The coast is clear.”
With his camera still around his neck, he ran around the front of the car and jumped into the passenger side. They were already moving by the time he heaved the heavy door shut.
“Did you get it?” The blonde asked, tapping her claw-like nails on the steering wheel. “God, please tell me you got that.”
Harvey glanced at her heaving breasts. Damn, he had forgotten how big they were. They pushed over top and out the sides of her shirt, and he swore he saw shadows of her nipples under the cotton. It was weird, but usually the site of jugs like hers made him hard as a rock, but for some reason they didn’t do the job. Carrie’s Ann’s were smaller. They were perky, and he bet they’d fit in his hand much better that Layla’s.
“Hey Jackass, eyes up here!”
She snapped her fingers, and he lifted his eyes to her face. Not a bad one. She was cute enough, but if he had to choose, he’d opt for Carrie Ann’s lips.
“Harvey, the pictures! Did you get them?”
“Yeah,” he said, licking his chapped lips. “I’m sure I got it.” He held up his camera between them. “I just kept pressing the button until my finger fell asleep.”
She clapped her hands and threw her head back in laughter. “That couldn’t have gone any better. I can’t believe he bought it.”
“So I kept my end of the bargain, and you owe me some money.”
“Of course I do.” She pulled over to the curb and killed the engine. Her nipples brushed across his legs when she leaned over him to open the glove compartment. His dick rose to the occasion, and he almost forgot to count the wad of twenties she dropped in his lap. “Hey”, he said after he thumbed through the stack “This is half of what we agreed on.”
“Well, when you deserve more you’ll get it.”
The little whore. He shifted in his seat, leveling his eyes on hers. “Listen, Lady, without me you never would have gotten the back-story on Ty and Carrie when I followed him and that assistant of his to the diner.”
“So what? The girl had an eating disorder. Who doesn’t?”
“Well, it ended the show. And when I heard Ty tell the story, it sounded like it would be a big deal to her and her family if it got out. And you damn sure wouldn’t know about him buying her prenatal vitamins.”
“If you had gotten a clue sooner, maybe I could have prevented my wayward husband from knocking Miss Priss up in the first place.” She pushed her bangs out of her face, and blew out a breath. “I wonder why she didn’t come out here with Ty anyway?”
Harvey shrugged. “Isn’t there some rule about pregnant woman flying?”
“Maybe, but actually that works out for the best. With her out of the way, I can work my magic.”
“What are you going to do? Tell Ty you know?”
“Of course not. I’m not laying all my cards out on the table. Not yet anyway. Obviously, they don’t want anyone to know about the impending Hollister offspring, so we won’t ruin the surprise. At least not until the time is right.”
“And when will that be?”
“All in good time.” She cocked her head and smiled. “Let’s just say we can do a lot more damage if we keep some secrets to ourselves.”
He understood the sentiment. Harvey looked her in her blue tinted contacts and chewed on his lip. If she wasn’t going to up the ante, neither was he. What he found out from that producer, Earl Simmons, guy was far too juicy. Yeah, Layla was dead on when she said some things were best kept secrets for a while. He’d save it for when the time was right, like if she ever had a problem finding her check book.
“So this plan of yours,” he said, stuffing the cash in his pocket. “Do you really think this is going to do the trick? Bullying him hasn’t worked so far.”
“Maybe not, but scaring the shit out of him might.”
Again she laughed in a way that made Harvey think that this woman was a little more off her rocker than he initially thought. He scratched his temple and waited for her to speak. “You really think she’d be that easy to get rid off? She’s having the guy’s kid. She’ll probably stick around, at least for the scratch.”
“We’ll see about that,” Layla said. “Carrie is fra
gile, and believe me, a woman like her won’t bother to tangle with a woman like me. I want my man, and the money he comes with. She doesn’t have it in her to stand in my way.”
Harvey felt himself salivate. Carrie was hot, but Layla was here, and Christ if her mean side wasn’t sexy as hell. He imagined tossing her in the back seat and giving it to her good. Make her scream and beg him for more, with her nails digging into his back. “So, where’s your friend, Marcy?” He winked and slid his hand over her shoulder. “You two busy tonight?”
She raised a brow. “Good things come to those who wait, Harvey. And I promise, you won’t be disappointed.”
He was hoping she’d say that. An image of two sexy women with huge breasts bobbing in the surf of his hot tub flashed through his mind. He closed his eyes and inserted himself into the mental picture.
Chapter Thirteen
Carrie climbed between her flannel sheets and flipped her pillow for the cool side. Opening weekend passed in such an exhausting blur, she barely had time to miss Ty. Of course she managed to fit it in between loads of laundry and stacking the wood he had graciously cut for her. The first few days he was gone, she expected a barrage of phone calls, and most definitely a Thanksgiving Day chat. But here it was over two weeks since he left, and she hadn’t gotten so much as a text message. If it wasn’t for impersonal updates from the “Entertainment Now” broadcasts, she’d think he’d fallen off the planet.
This was exactly what she had been trying to avoid. The position of letting Ty in her life. At first it was like a dare, to prove to herself how strong she was and how far she’d come from the needful girl five years ago. But now she’d let her guard down, all her old insecurities came rushing back.
So what would the new Carrie do? The assertive one, who was at peace with herself and prepared to handle whatever life dealt. The one who missed her boyfriend so badly, he was all she thought about.
She would call him on the phone.
Tossing the covers off, she snapped on the bedside light and reached for her cell phone. She had yet to award him with a spot on her speed dial, so she methodically punched the long string of numbers and waited. Her heart thumped in her chest. Why did she feel like a nervous school girl? It was just a friendly phone call. She folded her legs under her and gnawed on a jagged fingernail.
“Hello?”
Carrie checked the display screen when she heard the female voice. “Um hi,” she said slowly. “I’m looking for, Ty. Is he around?”
“I think he’s out for the evening.”
“Really.” Carrie pulled at the hem of her nightgown and swallowed. “Excuse me, but to whom am I speaking?”
“Well his wife, of course. This is Layla Hollister. And to whom am I speaking?”
Carrie pressed her eyes shut and mentally cursed. “Layla, this is Carrie Ann Langley.”
A gleeful laugh on the other end drove Carrie’s ear from the receiver. “Oh my God, it’s been so long,” she shrieked. “Ty has been telling me how nice it was to catch up with you. And you must have worn him out. I can’t get him out of bed.”
“Really?”
“Not that I mind, of course. But tonight he said he had a business meeting. I guess he’ll just have to make it up to me later.”
Carrie bit her lip while considering the strategy behind Layla’s game. She was lying. Had to be. This woman was a conniving operator who thought Carrie was as naïve as Layla was crazy. But what if she wasn’t lying? Ty hadn’t called her, and the last time she saw him, he was oddly cold. Either way, Carrie wouldn’t give her apprehensions away. Especially to a woman who was potentially out to get her.
“That’s wonderful, Layla,” Carrie heard herself say. “I was telling Ty that he should give things another chance. So this lesbian thing was all gossip, huh?”
“Yeah, well you know the tabloids.”
“I know the lies and innuendos they print. Makes you wonder where they find their lowlife sources.”
“I’ll tell him you called, but I doubt if he’ll have time to get back to you. We’ve decided to take a long weekend at the beach. Sounds like a great place to conceive a baby, doesn’t it? I know it’s premature to talk about stuff like that, I mean we would remarry first...”
Carrie’s fingers cramped around the receiver. “Well then have a good evening.” She managed a “good-bye” and flipped her phone shut. How did Layla get Ty’s cell? And God forbid, was anything she said the truth? She pulled the covers back around her and sighed. Ty said they were in this together, and if she were to question his loyalty now, she’d be as gullible as Layla counted on. No, Ty hadn’t called because he was busy. Protecting her. To doubt him would be an insult.
The night wind blew against her window, shaking the frame and whistling against the glass. She rested her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. Suddenly the room seemed colder, and a chill settled in between the sheets.
***
Layla hadn’t had that much fun on the phone since her days at 976-SLUT. Man, could she still work the charm. She snapped her ex-husband’s cell phone shut and tossed it beside her on the couch. Marcy sat on the floor, flipping through the holiday edition of Canine Life magazine.
“Was that her?” Marcy rested her chin in her palm.
“Hell yeah that was her, and it couldn’t have gone any better. You should have heard her voice.” Layla rubbed her hands together and smiled. “God damn, am I good.”
She lay back against the Corinthian leather pillows and slid her feet underneath her. It was a bold move to swipe Ty’s phone. She did it on impulse, when she snuck back into his house yesterday. He was in the shower, and at first she contemplated jumping in with him, but scoring his phone and making a getaway seemed way more fun and potentially useful. She didn’t know how much until she saw his caller ID flash LEXIELUV.
“So did she buy it?”
“Who cares if she bought it or not,” Layla said. “The point is to instill doubt.”
“I don’t get it.”
Could this woman truly be that dense? Layla peered down at her in her army fatigue pants and her mangy green tank, resisting the urge to talk slower for her benefit. “Okay, think of this like a court of law. Just as long as she starts to question herself, and Ty’s feelings for her, she’ll cut her losses and run.”
“But what if she doesn’t? Even if you do leak to the press everything you know about them, what good would that do?”
“Obviously it was important enough to them to keep it secret, and if revealing it to the world can be used against them, I’ll do it.”
“I don’t know.” Marcy shrugged. “You hired this Harvey guy, and I don’t think he’s done that much. All you have so far is that Ty shops for vitamins, and that maybe a long time ago he dated his once-skinny co-star. So what?”
Layla scowled. What exactly did she ever see in Marcy? She was negative and boring and smelled like dog poop half the time. But at least she was agreeable, and right now that was exactly what Layla needed. “Look Marcy, this is Hollywood, and in Hollywood everything is a drama. Sometimes the material might be weak, but if you get a qualified actress to turn in a great performance...” She stood up as if greeting an imaginary audience. “All of a sudden it’s a masterpiece.”
Marcy just blinked at her. “Okay fine,” Layla said and grabbed her purse from the coffee table. “I have some business to take care of. The GPS I had installed on Ty’s car says he’s out on the Strip, and I made sure that a few friends and I meet him there.”
“Don’t forget to take him his phone.”
Layla smiled through clenched teeth and swiped it from the couch. “I won’t,” she growled then headed out the door.
***
“Where the hell is my cell phone?” Ty yelled over Lady Gaga blaring from the woofer above him. “I always carry it in my back pocket, and it’s not there.” He emptied the contents of his jeans pockets onto the bar. Cigarettes, money, wallet. “Fuck, did I give it to you?”
“Y
our cell phone?” Manny swallowed the last of his Seven and Seven and tossed the bartender another twenty. “What would I want with that?”
Ty put his things back into his pockets and took a long gulp of his bourbon. The hum of the crowd rivaled the base from the speakers, and rainbow colored lights flashed from the dance floor beyond. “Chic” was the name of the joint, and in Ty’s opinion it tried too hard to be just that. It was dark and loud and packed to the walls with every echelon of Hollywood. Actors, models, producers, and anyone in between, who liked to be seen. Ty came here for the exact opposite. He was here to disappear, and he was almost there. A few more visits from Mick, the bartender, would do the trick.
“Jeez, man, lighten up. You probably just left it home.” Manny turned on his stool and gazed out at the crowd. “Now put a smile on your face and dump the drink down your throat.”
“Cut the pep talk man, I’m not interested.”
“No kidding,” Manny scoffed. “You haven’t been interested in anything since we left New York. You’re in bed by ten thirty, you’ve put most of the gossips mongers on the unemployment line. Hell, if it weren’t for the “Undercover Heat” promotions, I don’t think I could drag you out of the house.”
“So I’ve been a little anti-social lately. So what?”
Manny stared into his drink and shook his head. “I knew having Layla around would cramp your style.”
“Layla?” Ty looked at him and chuckled. She was the woman farthest from his mind. “What the hell does Layla have to do with me?”
“Tons, by the looks of it.”
“Please.”
“Which reminds me. When are you getting your locks changed? She lets herself into your house all hours of the day.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Oh yeah?” Manny shook his head and leaned closer to his ear. “I showed up yesterday morning and she was sunbathing. Topless no less.”
Undercover Heat Page 17
