“Why are we here?” Phil growled to Lucy in a low voice. “This is family night at the Richards’. What the hell are we doing here?”
“Maybe Mandy considers us family,” Lucy said, just as confused as her husband. She’d expected a small group of their peers, not Ryan’s entire family. They were nice enough people, but they existed in a different universe. His sisters were stay-at-home moms. Their husbands–apart from Marty–were businessmen, and Ryan’s mom was the definitive homemaker–a woman who’d raised a family and seemed to have no personal requirements whatsoever.
Where had Ryan and his blazing talent come from, Lucy wondered, for it sure didn’t run in his family. Marty, the stuntman, immediately started coming on to her.
“Loved you in Blue Sapphire,” he said, moving too close for comfort. “Where’d you learn to take it off like that?”
Blue Sapphire. The one movie she regretted making. She’d played a stripper, the rite of passage for every female movie star in Hollywood. If not a stripper then a hooker, and at some point in their career, preferably both.
She’d taken it all off in Blue Sapphire because the director had insisted that it was integral to the plot to see her naked. Tits on show. Ass for the world to see. Everything out there.
She shuddered whenever she recalled making that particular film. Especially as Playboy had gotten shots of her in all her glory and spread them throughout the magazine.
Blue Sapphire was an embarrassment she strove to forget, and now this drunk asshole was bringing it up.
“Can I ask you somethin’?” he slurred, following her as she attempted to move across the room toward Ryan.
“What?” she snapped, none too pleased.
“Don’t think I’m bein’ rude,” he said, taking another swig of expensive vodka, “but your boobies in that movie–man–they were fuckin’ sensational! Were they real?”
This jerk had balls as big as footballs. What a nerve!
“Excuse me?” she said, giving him the cold fish-eye.
“Well, y’know, when Demi Moore made that movie where she stripped off, she had her boobs enlarged–like for the role. So I thought—”
“Well don’t,” Lucy said, cutting him off, and giving him another icy glare.
“Nothin’ wrong with gettin’ implants,” he mumbled, scratching his nose. “Demi had hers taken out after her movie. An’—”
Before he could finish, Lucy made her escape and approached Ryan who was concluding a heated discussion with his sister.
“Can I speak with you a moment?” she asked.
“Sure,” Ryan said, glad for the diversion. He was so mad at Evie; she was an idiot if she believed that Marty was sorry and would never hit her again.
Lucy took his arm and steered him over to the patio door.
“I hope we’re not intruding,” she said. “Mandy never mentioned this was a family evening.”
“She wouldn’t, would she? That’s our Mandy,” Ryan said, wondering exactly when Mandy had decided to invite the Standards.
“I’ve been in touch with a very talented young writer,” Lucy said, lowering her voice. “Don’t mention it to Phil, but the writer is putting my story idea into a screenplay.”
“Way to go, Lucy. But I think you might be better off telling Phil.”
“Why?” she said petulantly. “He’s not interested. Every time I bring the subject up he ignores me, so I’ve taken matters into my own hands. Can you blame me?”
Ryan shrugged. Right now Lucy’s problems about her story ideas and resuming her career were not his primary concern. He had other things to think about, such as what was Mandy up to? Why had she put together this gathering of his family? A few minutes ago he’d found out it was not a pre-planned event as Mandy had said. His mother had revealed that she’d only heard from Mandy that very morning, which meant that while he was having breakfast with Cameron, Mandy had been busy putting it all together. She was a crafty one, informing him she’d planned it way ahead, since this was not the case at all. It was a last-minute move–and who the hell did she think she was fooling? Certainly not him.
“When I get the finished script I want you to promise me you’ll read it,” Lucy said.
“Sure,” he replied, his mind still elsewhere.
Lucy leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks, Ryan, I knew I could depend on you. And you won’t be disappointed.”
He moved off toward the bar. Spending time with Cameron had been a revelation, it had made him realize that there was more to life than staying with a woman he did not love. He was through punishing himself for events in the past that he’d had no control over. Neither he nor Mandy could do anything about the miscarriages and their stillborn baby. It was tragic, but it was in their past. Now it was time to move on. Divorce was the best move for both of them.
Finally he was sure of it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Cole had set up a series of interviews for new trainers to come in and show off their stuff.
“Shouldn’t we wait until we open?” Cameron had asked.
“There’s no way we can make it with only three of us,” Cole had argued. “You, me and Dorian ain’t gonna cut it. We need at least two more bodies. We gotta start off strong.”
They were auditioning at their unfinished premises and Cole was being particularly picky.
“Too old,” he insisted, checking out each individual applicant. “Too young.” “Too sexy,” followed by–“Not sexy enough.”
Cameron was losing patience, so when Cole dismissed a perfectly lovely girl as–“too straight”–she snapped. “What exactly are you looking for?” she yelled.
Cameron didn’t usually yell. Cole was surprised. He thought for a minute, then a grin spread across his face–and he said–“Someone as good as us.”
Cameron shook her head. She couldn’t fault him when all he wanted was the best. “The next one in, unless she/he has two left feet, they’re hired,” she said sternly. “We have no more time to waste.”
“Got it,” he agreed.
The next applicant, Cherry, was a pretty girl with a strong athletic body, a cheerful personality and excellent credentials.
“You’re hired,” Cameron said. “Next!”
By the end of the day they’d taken on Cherry, and Reno, a young Italian kid with rock-hard abs and an enthusiastic attitude.
Later Cameron hooked up with Cole and Dorian, and the three of them went to the California Pizza Kitchen on Beverly Drive where they devoured spicy chicken pizzas and large Caesar salads.
“I’ve got news,” Cole said, munching on a slice of pizza. “Forgot to tell you earlier.”
“You didn’t forget,” Cameron pointed out. “You were mad at me.”
“True,” Cole said. “Which brings up the subject of where exactly were you this morning? I spoke to Katie, an’ you sure as shit weren’t there.”
“You mean Miz Paradise was on the missing list?” Dorian interjected, tossing back his golden locks.
“I was not missing, I…uh…simply forgot the time,” she said, thinking about Ryan for a moment, and wondering if he was thinking about her.
No! No! No! The man is married, for God’s sake.
Get over him.
What if I can’t?
You have to.
“You told me you had to help out a friend,” Cole said accusingly.
Yes. A friend. A new friend.
“She’s being mysterious,” Dorian joked. “She’s hiding something from us. Look at her face! Guilty as charged, madame.”
Was she coming across as guilty? About what? All she’d done was have breakfast with a married man. Hardly a crime.
“Will you two quit it,” she said crossly. “Truth is I overslept.”
“With anyone we know?” Dorian asked archly. “Seems to me you’ve got that ‘I just got laid’ flush.”
“I so do not,” she said, blushing.
“Oh yes you do,” Dori
an sing-songed.
“Oh yes she does!” Cole said, joining in.
“What did you forget to tell me earlier?” she asked, swiftly changing the subject.
“Natalie called. We got ourselves a new investor.”
“Excuse me?”
“Someone looking for an investment opportunity. They came along at exactly the right time.”
“Who?”
“Dunno. Does it matter? They’re willing to put up mucho bucks.”
“In exchange for what?”
“They’re taking over a piece of Natalie’s action.”
Perhaps Cole was not as business-savvy as she’d thought. “We can’t just allow anyone to waltz in and be part of our business without knowing who it is,” she said, frowning.
“Calm down,” Cole said. “If Natalie vouches for this person, they’re cool. Besides, you know we’re running outta money fast. This way we’re set to finish everythin’ an’ open with a major blow-out. Natalie’s got a list of celebs lined up, an’ her TV show’s promised to cover the openin’. Great, huh?”
Cameron nodded unsurely. The closer it got to the opening of Paradise, the more tense she became. Paradise was her future, everything she’d worked toward. It had to be a success.
But what if it wasn’t?
What if it was one big devastating flop?
What if nobody came?
And she wasn’t just thinking about the opening–of course people would come to that, free food and free drink–the opening party was a no-brainer.
But after that–what if it didn’t take off?
Snap out of it, no negative thoughts, she told herself. Paradise is gonna fly. No doubt about it.
“Did you call Carlos’s contact?” she asked Cole.
“Yeah,” he said. “Now that the money’s flowin’, an’ Natalie’s not so uptight, I gotta feelin’ he could be our man. We’re meetin’ at the premises at ten tomorrow. Sounds like he can get the job finished fast.”
“In time for our party?”
“He talks a good game.”
“He needs to do more than that.”
“Natalie thinks we should hire a P.R. for the opening,” Cole said. “Get us some major coverage.”
“You think?”
“This is Hollywood, babe, everyone’s into fitness. With the right P.R. we could be the new Pinkberry.”
“Huh?” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“Remember how Pinkberry took over the yoghurt business? We’re gonna do the same for bodies.”
“Right on,” Dorian agreed.
“Paradise will be the place to go for anyone who wants the best body in town,” Cole said, full of confidence.
His enthusiasm was somewhat disturbing. What if he was expecting too much?
In spite of the smile on her face Cameron was tense and uptight. It suddenly occurred to her that she needed sex, and since Ryan wasn’t available…
Marlon. His name popped into her head. Marlon was always available.
“Okay, guys, I think I’m gonna take off,” she said, feigning a yawn.
“It’s early,” Dorian objected. “Surely you want to come to the Abbey with us an’ watch the boys drool over me an’ Cole? I promise you–it’s quite a sight.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m taking a pass.”
“She’s got a boyfriend,” Dorian sing-songed. “It’s written all over that beautiful face of hers.”
“You’re wrong,” she said.
“I’m never wrong when it comes to sex,” Dorian said. “You’re gettin’ it, young lady.”
Oh yes, I am, in about twenty minutes after I drive myself to the beach.
“I hope she is seeing someone,” Cole remarked. “It’s about time she got some action.”
“It would be so nice if you two would stay out of my sex life and concentrate on your own,” she said tartly. “And I might add that I do not appreciate being spoken about as if I’m not here. You’re always doing that.”
“Now, now,” Dorian tut-tutted. “Don’t go all diva on us.”
She stood up, leaned across the table and kissed both of them. “Bye, boys,” she said crisply. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Once outside she called Marlon. He informed her he was working on a script, but that he’d definitely make time to see her.
Hmm…this was a new one, Marlon working on a script. She’d thought he was a student, now it turned out he was a wanna-be screenwriter. Why was she surprised? Wasn’t that the ambition of every young guy in Hollywood?
She made the drive to Venice in record time.
As soon as she got there she wished she hadn’t bothered. Marlon was so not what she was in the mood for, and while she’d thought she wanted sex, doing it with him simply didn’t appeal to her anymore.
Too late. He greeted her warmly, pulled her down on his futon, and went at it until she faked orgasm and told him it was great. Then, as she started getting dressed, he decided he wanted to talk!
Bad idea. No talking, just sex.
After listening to him for five minutes, she told him she had to meet someone and raced out of there.
Sex with Marlon had lost its luster. He was just a kid, and she wanted a real man.
She wanted Ryan Richards.
“What do you think is goin’ on with our girl?” Dorian asked, once Cameron had taken off.
Cole was busy making major eye-contact with a rugged-looking hunk at the bar. “Dunno,” he said. “She seems normal to me.”
Noticing what Cole was up to, Dorian let out a groan–“Puleeze! Not him. I had the poor slob last week, an’ the only thing he can suck is a lemon!”
“What makes you think I’m not into lemons?” Cole quipped.
“Oh Cole,” Dorian sighed, fanning himself with the menu. “If only I was your type, you an’ I would make one hot team.”
“We are a team,” Cole said, flashing his whiter than white teeth. “Only you stay on your side an’ I’ll stay on mine.”
“Such a bitch!” Dorian huffed.
“And don’t you love it,” Cole retaliated, still grinning.
Cameron drove home fast, listening to an old Sade CD. She was in the mood for some nostalgic sounds and Sade always got it right.
After collecting Yoko and Lennon, and running them around the block, she took a shower, put on some old sweats, sat down in front of her computer and began Googling Ryan Richards.
There were plenty of entries. His bio, his movies, his awards, his family.
She read all about him, absorbing every detail. When she was finished, she slipped out to her car, drove to Barnes & Noble and purchased all seven of his movies. Once home, she had an urge to start watching them immediately, but it was almost midnight, and she had Don to deal with at seven a.m. Not to mention another long day ahead.
She thought about Ryan for a moment. They’d set a time for his work-out, but they hadn’t arranged a location. He’d said he’d call her, she hoped he wouldn’t change his mind.
After checking her messages–none from Ryan–she went to bed and fell asleep, dreaming about opening-night disasters and falling from a cliff into a deep lagoon where she languished, floating on her back while dolphins jostled around her.
Yoko and Lennon woke her at three a.m., both of them barking frantically.
She sat up, startled, straining to hear any unusual sounds.
Apart from her noisy dogs, all was quiet.
“Shut up, guys,” she yawned, thinking it might be prudent to learn to shoot a gun. Mr Wasabi had informed her there’d been a couple of break-ins on the street, and although she wasn’t nervous by nature, a gun might be a smart idea.
The dogs stopped barking, and after a while she fell back to sleep. This time she dreamed about Ryan, and when she awoke it was with a smile on her face.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Whew!” Mary Ellen exclaimed, taking in her surroundings. “This is some house!”
“I built it,” Don said, as
Butch–exhibiting his usual bad behavior–bounded forward and headed straight for her crotch.
She jumped back, startled.
Grabbing Butch’s collar, Don pulled his dog off her. “Do you want me to put him outside?” he asked.
“That would be great. It’s just that I’m not used to big dogs. I have a Chihuahua.”
Of course you do, he thought as he opened up the patio doors and steered Butch out by the pool. Chihuahuas were show-off dogs, always good for a photo op. He should’ve guessed that was the kind of dog Mary Ellen would have.
He pressed a button and the sexy sounds of R. Kelly flooded the room. “How about a drink?” he suggested. “What can I get you?”
“I’d love a Bailey’s,” she said, wondering when he’d make a move. The setting was perfect. Amazing house with an amazing view of the city. The twinkling lights of Los Angeles spread out before them like a dazzling blanket.
She sat down on the leather couch and waited for him to join her.
He was in two minds about what to do.
To fuck her or not to fuck her.
That was the question.
He wasn’t feeling particularly horny, yet he knew she expected sex. And if they did it, was she the kind of girl who’d consider them a couple?
Had to tread carefully with this one.
He poured her a Bailey’s, himself a Jack Daniel’s, and sat down beside her still unsure of what he might do.
She made up his mind for him. Downing the Bailey’s in two quick gulps, she suddenly unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her front-clasp bra, revealing two perfect perky all-natural breasts with hard extended nipples.
Done deal.
His response was instant. Nipples like that could not go to waste.
Bending his head he went to work, licking, sucking, fingering, until she was in full moan, begging him to fuck her.
And who was he to say no? His head might be full of Cameron, but his body was ready for action.
Feverishly she began unzipping his pants and wriggling out of her skirt, until the two of them were rolling about on the white rug in front of the couch, and her moans were becoming louder and louder.
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