Lucy raced around her house making sure everything was set for her very important dinner. Phil was completely on board. Ever since she’d discovered him screwing his now very ex-assistant, he couldn’t do enough for her. Plus he was still bombarding her with gifts. So far she’d received the very latest Cartier watch, an antique diamond bracelet from Neil Lane, exquisite gold and diamond necklaces from XIV Karats, and the offer of yet another new car.
“Enough,” she’d admonished. “You’re spending a fortune.”
“And you, my dear,” Phil had replied, “are worth every red cent.”
Talk about guilt ridden!
She didn’t care about the gifts, she only cared about her script, and the dinner party–which was to be her launching pad for a big career comeback.
Once she included him in her plan, Phil changed the dynamics of the dinner. “We do not want a house full of people,” he warned her. “Two producers are more than enough. Keep it down to Ryan and Hamilton.”
“Are you certain they’re the right two?”
“Definitely. Nobody’s going to read your script while they’re here. But with Hamilton and Ryan you’ve got that competitive thing going on between them. They’ll both take it home. Ryan will read it himself, and Hamilton will give it to one of his development people to look at. Who knows? You might even create a bidding war.”
Phil wanted–or at least he pretended that he wanted–to read the script before the big night. She’d said no, because she would prefer for him to be surprised along with everyone else. Besides, she was nervous for him to read it at this late stage; he’d have criticisms and comments, and now was not the time to deal with his professional opinion.
She wondered how Phil would react when he got a look at Marlon. Hmm…a touch of payback was not such a bad thing.
Once they’d cut the number of guests down, she’d decided to hire only one chef and a helper who would double as a barman. None of Mandy’s suggested army of people, and they certainly didn’t need valet parking. Their enormous driveway–way off the main road–could accommodate dozens of cars.
The children had gone off with Nanny, most of the animals were ensconced in the tree house, the table was set, there was nothing left for Lucy to do except get ready.
She had a hunch it would be a very special evening.
“I’m engaged!” Lynda shouted out the good news as she sashayed into Paradise later than usual, flashing a small diamond ring on her engagement finger. “Carlos asked me last night and I said yes–yes–YES!”
Everyone gathered around her, Dorian already planning what style of dress she should wear, and how the flower arrangements at the reception should look.
“I am so happy for you,” Cameron said, giving her a big hug. “You’ve wanted this for a long time.”
“You bet your fine ass!” Lynda exclaimed. “Carlos has been dragging his feet forever, but last night he finally came through.”
“Everyone–this calls for a celebration,” Cole announced. “Obar, tonight–eight o’clock. Are we on it?”
“You bet!” Lynda grinned, her brown eyes sparkling. “I’ll tell Carlos.”
“Yeah,” Dorian said dryly. “Carlos in a gay bar. Can’t wait to see that!”
“He’ll be fine,” Lynda giggled. “He’s been around you guys long enough. I am so HAPPY!”
“Let me see the ring,” Cameron said.
Lynda proudly displayed her hand.
“It’s lovely.”
“Tell that to Carlos later,” Lynda said, beaming. “He spent mucho bucks.”
“Oh, God!” Cameron suddenly remembered the dinner party at the Standards’. “I can’t come tonight, I promised Don—”
“Cancel!” Dorian said sharply. “Our Lynda getting engaged is more important than whatever you have to do with your big star boyfriend.”
“I can’t cancel, but I’ll try to come by later.”
“Ha!” Dorian sniffed. “I think I liked it better when you weren’t getting laid.”
“For your information,” Cameron retorted, “I was always getting laid, you just didn’t know it!”
“Uh ha! Now I understand why you would never let me fix you up with Carlos’s friends!” Lynda exclaimed.
“She’s a secretive one,” Cole said.
They should only know just how secretive. Which reminded her, wasn’t it time she did something about getting a divorce?
Yes. Perhaps Don’s killer lawyer could help her. The only problem with that was that she hadn’t told Don she was married. And now, with breaking things off with him on her mind, it was not the right time.
She had two things other than work on her agenda–the first was to break up with Don, and the second–to find her own lawyer.
She’d do both things. Soon.
“I wish we didn’t have to go tonight,” Ryan grumbled.
“We have to,” Mandy responded. “Lucy would never forgive me if we canceled two hours beforehand. She’s gone to a lot of trouble–they haven’t had people over in years.”
Ryan was thinking what a difficult week it had been, dealing with Evie and the kids after Marty’s unexpected suicide. He’d found himself taking care of everything–starting with the funeral, getting out of the six-month lease on the rented house, Marty’s Will–in which he’d left jack-shit–and dozens of other small matters. He was tired, and he still hadn’t faced Mandy about the divorce situation. Every time he came close, something happened to stop him. The last thing he felt like doing was going to a dinner party.
Seeing Cameron at the funeral with Don had done nothing to help his frame of mind. It had only reminded him of how stuck he was in a loveless sexless marriage.
And to make matters worse–Don had not been able to wipe the smile off his face. Now his best friend really did have everything.
But what about Cameron? Was she just as happy? Was Don the man she wanted to be with?
Obviously yes. She was with Don Verona, and that was that.
“If you moved into my house,” Don said, as Cameron opened her front door, “I wouldn’t have to dodge photographers and take a different route every time I pick you up.”
“Yes,” she said, smiling. “But you love giving them the slip. It’s a game you enjoy winning, and so far you’re doing an excellent job. Apart from that night at Paradise, we’re totally flying under the radar.”
“That we are,” he agreed. “The gossip rags are still linking me with Mary Ellen. How about that?”
“She must be thrilled.”
“Poor kid. I do feel sorry for her.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Do you really think I’m that heartless?”
“No, just a big player.”
“By the way, Miz Paradise, I think I should tell you that you look amazing tonight.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, it’s a fact,” he said, escorting her outside to yet another of his many cars. “This is my new baby,” he said proudly. “A Bugatti Veyron.” He didn’t bother to add that it was the fastest sports car around and the most expensive–his latest toy had set him back almost a million bucks. Things were pretty hot in the talk-show business.
“Wow!” Cameron murmured. “It’s a fantastic-looking car, but I still prefer my Mustang.”
Laughing, he held the car door open for her. “You’re a funny lady,” he said. “Nothing impresses you, does it?”
“Hey Don,” she said, suddenly remembering Lynda and her engagement, “if the dinner finishes early, can we go by Obar? Cole and Dorian are throwing a little celebration for Lynda–she and Carlos finally got engaged.”
“Who is Lynda? And where’s Obar?”
It irritated her that he did not remember the people she worked with, even though he’d come by Paradise and met them all.
Maybe they weren’t famous enough for him.
No. Don wasn’t like that, he was merely forgetful.
“Oh c’mon, you can’t forget Lynda
, she’s our receptionist. Latina. Gorgeous. And Obar is a fun restaurant on Santa Monica.”
“Sure, we’ll stop by if we get through in time. But only if you spend tonight at my house.”
“You’re always trying to blackmail me.”
“Deal?”
“Do I have to say yes?”
“Actually, you do.”
One more night wasn’t about to make any difference. It wasn’t as if Ryan was single and waiting for her, he was still very much married.
And what could she do about that?
Absolutely nothing.
Anya was puzzled. Hamilton had been home for twenty-four hours and so far he had not touched her or ordered in an expensive call girl so he could watch the two of them make love for his enjoyment. This was unlike Hamilton, who, with the help of Viagra, had quite a robust sexual appetite, especially as he’d been away for almost a week.
Anya did not mind enacting scenes for Hamilton with other women. In her mind she turned every other woman into Velma–the only person she’d truly felt anything for.
She wondered what Hamilton had done in Japan. She didn’t ask. Silence was a far more powerful tool.
He’d brought her back a dress, a slinky satin dress–bright scarlet and extremely form-fitting with deep side slits.
“You’ll wear it tonight,” he informed her.
“Are we going out?” she inquired.
“Yes. We’re attending a dinner party at Phil and Lucy Standard’s house. You met them at Mandy’s.”
She remembered a tall, striking woman with long jet-black hair–and a heavy-set rumpled bear of a man with a beard. The man with the beard had been sitting next to Ryan at the live sex show in Amsterdam. She recalled him roaring with laughter and applauding. When he’d met her in L.A. he hadn’t remembered her. Why would he? In his eyes she was nothing but a disposable whore. She’d loathed him then, why should tonight be any different?
Now Hamilton was forcing her to go to his house, eat his food, and be in the presence of his hateful face.
Would Mandy and Ryan be there, since they were all friends? Yes, and she dreaded seeing them.
Later in the afternoon she approached Hamilton in his study. “I’m feeling unwell,” she said. “Would it bother you if I stayed home tonight?”
There was a malevolent spark in his eyes. “Yes, Pola,” he said, tapping the tips of his fingers together, “it would bother me a great deal. We leave here at seven thirty. Be ready.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Unbeknownst to Cameron, Gregg visited her house whenever he felt like it. He knew where she was at all times. He knew where she deposited her two dogs every day with her Japanese neighbor. He knew exactly when and what time the cleaning woman arrived–twice a week–Tuesdays and Fridays between nine and one.
When Cameron wasn’t there he treated her house as if it was his home–which in a way it was. They were married, weren’t they? He was her husband, wasn’t he? He had rights.
He watched sports on her TV. Drank her booze. Ate her snacks. Jerked off in her bedroom. In fact, he did whatever the fuck he wanted to do. Best of all he kept a sharp eye on an appointment book she left lying on the kitchen table. He didn’t have to follow her anymore, he knew every one of her movements, her book really helped him out.
After she’d spent the weekend at the beach with Famous Prick, Gregg observed that she’d seen him only twice. One time she’d gone with him to a funeral–Gregg had followed her to that one–very depressing. And on Thursday night she and Famous Prick had shared a quiet dinner for two at Il Sole, a cozy restaurant on Sunset.
Cameron had turned into a workaholic. She spent most of her time at Paradise, occasionally taking off to work with private clients at their homes.
One day, certain that she was out, Gregg sashayed into Paradise and introduced himself to the busty little piece of Mexican ass sitting behind the reception desk. He told her he was a journalist for a big sports magazine in Sydney, Australia, and that he needed information about Paradise so he could write the place up in his magazine.
“Fantastic!” Lynda cooed, batting her eyelashes at him. “But you should really speak with one of the owners.”
“Who are the owners?” he asked, giving her some major eye-contact.
“There’s Cole, but he’s busy with a client. And Cameron, she’s out right now.”
“That’s a drag. I’m on a time deadline and I gotta speak to someone today. Who is this Cameron anyway?”
“Cameron Paradise–the place is named after her ’cause it’s her baby. ’Scuse me,” she said, reaching for the phone.
“What’s your name?” he asked when she got off the phone.
“Lynda,” she answered coyly, enjoying the attention.
He played it smart with Lynda. Invited her for a sandwich on her lunch-break, promised that he’d write something very positive about Paradise in his magazine, and that he’d send it to her and she could surprise her bosses with it and take full credit. “We’ll even run your photo,” he said, sealing the deal.
Over a quick tuna fish sandwich Lynda spilled everything, thinking it was all for this great piece he was preparing to write.
Yeah. Sure. In your dreams, you Salma Hayek wanna-be.
So…Cameron had told no one that she was a married woman. Interesting.
And now she was carrying on a full-blown affair with Famous Prick as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
The time had come to burst her fucking bubble.
The time had come to take his wife back.
Chapter Forty-Nine
The first guests to arrive were Hamilton and his new bride. Lucy greeted them at the door herself She’d opted to wear a low-cut bronze Hervé Léger dress–her new gold and diamond casual necklaces strung around her neck, her Cartier watch on her wrist. With her long black hair and porcelain skin she cut a dramatic and sexy figure.
“So glad you could make it,” she said warmly, kissing Hamilton on both cheeks, while offering Anya/Pola a casual wave.
“I was worried you’d be stuck in Tokyo, and have to cancel.”
“I never get stuck anywhere,” Hamilton opined. “One thing about me–if I have a schedule, I stick to it.”
“I’m sure you do,” Lucy said, flirting a little bit. “I remember when we worked together, you were always so organized.” A beat. A flutter of her long eyelashes. “It was one of the things I enjoyed most about working with you–your unswerving dedication.”
It immediately struck Hamilton that the actress wanted something from him. No doubt during the course of the evening he’d find out what that something was.
Don and Cameron arrived next. Don, so handsome and charming, displaying his usual self-deprecating humor. And Cameron, quite lovely in silky pants and a loose top.
Phil was busy playing genial host to the hilt, dismissing the barman–telling the man to go help the chef in the kitchen–while he poured the drinks himself. He was intrigued to find out what Lucy had in store. Her script presentation could turn out to be a major embarrassment, but he was on for the ride, he owed her that.
The first thing Mandy realized when she and Ryan walked in, was that she was overdressed in her Narciso Rodriguez backless purple dress and Elsa Peretti diamonds. Where were the parking valets? The other help she had distinctly told Lucy to hire? And why was Phil behind the bar?
Even more infuriating–what was Hamilton doing there? And Don Verona with that pushy blonde who’d stolen him from Mary Ellen?
“Where is everybody?” she asked Lucy in a hoarse stage whisper.
“Change of plan,” Lucy said, all wide-eyed innocence. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“No, you didn’t,” Mandy hissed. “Who else is coming?”
“This is it,” Lucy said. “Phil thought it best to keep it small.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” Mandy said, unable to keep a lid on her aggravation.
“Sorry,” Lucy said, too excited about her upco
ming surprise to worry about Mandy being upset.
“And may I ask why Hamilton is here?” Mandy demanded.
“Phil wanted him,” Lucy replied, making a quick escape to the kitchen to check on the chef.
Mandy was furious. She’d been expecting an elegant evening with interesting and important guests. Instead she was stuck with her father and his wife, and Don plus his current fling. Why had she bothered to dress up and get her hair done? It wasn’t worth it.
“Let’s make this an early night,” she muttered to Ryan as Phil poured their drinks.
Ryan didn’t really hear her, he was too busy making eye-contact across the room with Cameron.
“Lucy should’ve told me it was a small dinner,” Mandy complained.
“I thought you two spoke every day,” Ryan said.
“We do, that’s why I can’t understand why she didn’t tell me.”
“Here comes your old man,” Ryan said. “I’m going over to say hi to Don.” And picking up his glass of vodka, he headed for the couch.
Hamilton descended on his daughter. “How are you, my dear?” he asked. “Doing well, I hope?”
It was so unlike Hamilton to give a damn about how she was. Maybe he was mellowing in his old age. Anya stood behind him in an unflattering and quite tarty scarlet dress, looking sulky. Somehow, the mere sight of her father’s latest wife put Mandy in a bad mood.
“Everything’s good,” she said. “I’m sure you heard about Ryan’s sister’s husband blowing his brains out.”
“No,” Hamilton said, completely disinterested. “I’ve been in Japan scouting locations.”
“Another big blockbuster in the works?” Mandy asked, wondering when he’d give it up. Hadn’t he had enough of the limelight? She wished he’d hand his company over to Ryan, and she wished that Ryan would accept it. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.
“As always,” Hamilton replied, proffering his glass to Phil for a refill, then once more engaging his daughter in conversation. “How is Ryan?”
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