Thrill

by Jackie Collins

  “I know, I know . . .” he interrupted, with a jolly chuckle. “Your friend’s not in the business anymore. So quit with the talking and get your cutie-pie asses over here.”

  “We’ll be right there,” Tina said, hanging up the phone with a triumphant grin. “See? Easy pickings.”

  “It’s past ten,” Summer said, yawning again. “I’m kinda beat, what with the flight and all.”

  Tina was already at the mirror, fluffing up her hair. “Too beat to have fun with Norman?”

  “I was thinking like, maybe tomorrow.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” Tina said, picking up her shoulder bag, reaching inside and producing a small white pill. “Take this. It’ll rev you up.”

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing serious. See,” she said, reaching in her purse again, “I’m taking one too.”

  Not wanting to look like a baby, Summer quickly swallowed the innocuous-looking pill.

  “Good girl,” Tina said. “It’ll make you feel seriously better.”

  “Uh . . . another thing,” Summer ventured.

  “Yes?”

  “Shouldn’t it be Norman and me alone together?”

  “I didn’t notice him saying ‘Just send the blonde,’ ” Tina retorted huffily. “Are you up for it or not?”

  Summer nodded. She knew that once he saw her again, he’d realize how much he’d missed her and send Tina home, and from then on everything would work out just fine.

  • •

  The first thing Nikki did was have Aiden drive her to the Malibu house to check if Summer was there.

  “Do you think she’s in L.A.?” she kept asking him.

  “I hardly know her,” he answered. “But from what I’ve seen—she can look after herself.”

  “She’s fifteen, Aiden,” Nikki fretted. “Fifteen!”

  “What can I tell you? She’s your kid.”

  “What if she’s not here?”

  “Could be she’s staying with a girlfriend in Chicago. Your ex check into that?”

  “Knowing Sheldon, he checked into everything. He’s headed here on a plane right now. You’ll get to meet him; he’s a real treat.”

  “She leave a note?”

  “No. The housekeeper told Sheldon she left late for school this morning, and that some of her clothes are gone. Oh, and apparently there’s money missing.”

  “Shit!” Aiden exclaimed, swerving to avoid another car, which had skidded across the road.

  Nikki put on her seat belt. “Please drive carefully. I would like to get there.”

  “She have a boyfriend?” Aiden asked, slowing down.

  “Not that I know of. Sheldon spoke to the boy who took her to a movie last night—Stuart something or other. He didn’t know anything.” She let out a long, weary sigh. “Oh, God, Aiden. I can only hope she’s at the house.”

  “I don’t get it—if she was coming back here, why wouldn’t she call first?”

  “How do I know?” Nikki said irritably.

  “Don’t get pissed. You’re gonna find her.”

  “Maybe Richard knows something. They were kind of close when she was here.”

  “Call him.”

  She took out her cell phone and punched in his number. “It’s Nikki,” she said when he answered.

  “How come you’re not at the party?” Richard said. “I’m going there now. Lara told me to drop by.”

  “Why would she tell you to do that?” Nikki said, before she could stop herself.

  “Guess she wants to see me,” Richard replied, purposely needling her.

  “You’re out of luck, Richard, Lara’s not there.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She’s not, okay?”

  “No need to get bitchy.”

  She refused to let him get to her. Some other time, but not now. “Sheldon called from Chicago,” she said brusquely. “Summer’s missing.”

  “What do you mean, ‘missing’?”

  “It’s pretty clear, isn’t it? She’s taken off, run away.”

  “So . . . what do you want from me?”

  “Thanks for your concern, Richard.”

  “No, I mean, if there’s anything I can do . . .”

  “Do you have any idea where she might go?”

  “No.”

  “She hasn’t called you?”

  “If she does, I’ll let you know.”

  “I’m on my way to Malibu. She could be there.”

  “Then I guess I won’t see you later.”

  “You won’t see anybody later. I told you—Lara’s not at the party.”

  “Where is she?”

  “How would I know? If you hear anything, call me.” She cut the connection and began biting her nails—an old habit she reverted to only in times of extreme stress. “He’s such a cold sonofabitch,” she said. “All he cares about is seeing Lara.”

  “Why’d you marry him, Nik? And why’d you marry Sheldon? They both seem like assholes.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said sarcastically. “I would have been better off with a druggie like you, right?”

  “That’s not very nice,” he said, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe she was being so nasty. “I’m getting it back together. I was kind of hoping you’d help me.”

  “I can’t help anybody right now. I’m too upset.”

  “Calm down,” he said soothingly. “Summer’s probably sitting at the house waiting for you.”

  • •

  Nikki’s call annoyed Richard. He did not appreciate her attitude, telling him that he wasn’t going to see Lara. Showed how much she knew. Not only was he going to see her, he was going to divorce Nikki and get back together with Lara the way it should be.

  He knew Lara better than anyone. With Joey out of the picture, she’d be lonely and vulnerable. And he, Richard Barry, would be right there to console her.

  Before anyone knew it, they’d remarry.

  Yes. That’s exactly what was going to happen, whether Nikki liked it or not.

  • •

  “I hope he still likes me,” Summer said. She’d taken a quick shower and put on one of Tina’s skimpy dresses. Now they were standing in the elevator that was taking them up to Norman Barton’s hotel suite, where he resided permanently.

  “Of course he’ll still like you,” Tina said, adjusting her stretchy tank top to show even more cleavage. “According to Darlene, he asks about you all the time.”

  “At least that’s good news,” Summer said, shivering slightly, not sure if it was from nerves, the air-conditioned elevator, or the stupid pill Tina had forced her to take. “I’m totally psyched about seeing him again.”

  “Little Miss Romantic,” Tina teased. “It must be true love!”

  “I think it is,” Summer said with a giggle.

  Norman did not open the door of his suite himself. This time a girl did—a stunning black girl with a provocative smile and a sinewy body.

  Tina quickly nudged Summer. “Ohmigod!” she whispered. “It’s that big-time model, Cluny.”

  “Hi, girls,” Cluny said with a shimmering smile. “Come in, join the party.”

  Summer had no intention of joining any party; she was only interested in seeing Norman.

  “Absolutely!” Tina said. “This is Summer, I’m Tina, and you’re Cluny. I recognized you, you’re so beautiful.”

  Cluny had huge, quivering lips and seductive cat’s eyes. “Why thank you, darling,” she said, clutching Tina’s arm. “You can be my new best friend.”

  They entered the room. There were girls everywhere and no Norman in sight.

  “Sir is in the bedroom,” Cluny said with a throaty chuckle. “He’ll be out shortly. In the meantime, take off your clothes, get comfortable.”

  Most of the girls lounging around on the couches and floor were half naked. Summer was horrified, this wasn’t what she’d expected at all. “What’s going on?” she whispered to Tina.

  “Looks like an orgy to me,” Tina sai
d, not too put out.

  “I thought he wanted to see me,” Summer said mournfully.

  “Apparently along with dozens of others.”

  “I’m going home,” Summer said, deeply disappointed.

  “Don’t be such a baby,” Tina scolded. “What did you think he was doing while you were in Chicago—sitting around pining for you? We’re here now, let’s get with the action.”

  “I’m not staying,” Summer said stubbornly.

  “At least see what he has to say,” Tina said. “We showed up, he’s gotta pay us.”

  “I’m not taking off anything,” Summer said, close to tears.

  “You don’t have to,” Tina answered, guiding her over to one of the couches, where they squeezed in on the end, next to a short, busty redhead who was snorting cocaine from the glass-topped coffee table. “Want some?” the redhead asked with a friendly smile. “It’s free.”

  “Sure,” Tina said agreeably.

  “What are you doing?” Summer hissed as Tina picked up a small straw and began snorting the white powder.

  “Takin’ a little toot,” Tina whispered back. “Why don’t you do the same? You’re so uptight.”

  “I don’t want to be here,” Summer moaned. “I like, really don’t.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake—stop whining,” Tina snapped. “You said you couldn’t wait to see him.”

  “Not this way.”

  A few minutes later, Norman emerged from the bedroom, clad in nothing but a pair of red candy-striped shorts. He had a big shit-eating grin on his face and a girl on each arm, both of them totally naked. “Cluny!” he yelled. “I need more money!”

  “Honey,” Cluny replied, digging into her shoulder bag and pulling out a stack of hundred-dollar bills. “You are wailin’ tonight. No stoppin’ you.”

  Summer jumped to her feet. “That’s it,” she said. “This sucks. I’m out of here.”

  “Don’t be such a pain,” Tina retorted.

  “Give me the key.”

  “What key?”

  “To your apartment. I’m going home.”

  “If you’re bailing on me, then you can forget about going to my place.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Hey, Norman,” Cluny said. “Before you vanish again, take a peek at dessert. Two juicy little pieces of flesh. I bag me the baby blonde. Can I have her? Please? Pretty please?”

  “She’s all yours, babe,” Norman said, not even glancing in Summer’s direction, too stoned to concentrate on anything.

  Summer stood up. “I’m gone,” she said, furiously heading for the door.

  “Then you’re on your own,” Tina shouted after her.

  “Fine,” Summer said, tears pricking her eyelids. “I’ll pick up my things tomorrow.”

  She rushed from the room. To her chagrin, Norman didn’t even notice.

  CHAPTER

  63

  THERE WAS A MARVIN GAYE tribute on the radio. Joey listened to the veteran soul singer all the way to the studio. The music soothed him. Marvin Gaye sure had style—not to mention an incredible voice.

  He recalled that when he was growing up, his mother had often played tapes of Otis Redding and Teddy Pendergrass. She was into soul. Ah yes, Adelaide was into a lot of things.

  He flashed on his mother for a moment, picturing her dancing around their living room, so strikingly pretty with her black, curly hair, dark eyes and startling, wide smile. He’d inherited his looks from his mother. God, she’d been a beauty.

  As he pulled into a parking place outside the sound stage, he could hear the music blaring away. “Rock Around the Clock” by Bill Haley and the Comets. Oh, jeez, he’d forgotten, it was a fifties party, and he was supposed to be in some kind of rock ’n’ roll outfit. Well, what did it matter? They’d probably only stay a short time. Then he’d take Lara home, and tomorrow they’d be on their way to Tahiti and a whole new life.

  He strolled into the sweaty, noisy throng, stopping to greet a couple of sound guys, smiling at the hairdresser and the makeup woman. Then he began looking around for Lara.

  “Seen Lara?” he asked the continuity girl.

  She shrugged. “Haven’t.”

  He wandered over to one of the second assistants. “Is Lara around?”

  “Don’t think she’s here, Joey.”

  “How about Nikki?”

  “Saw her dancing with Mick a while back.”

  “Thanks,” he said, edging around the dance floor, finally managing to attract Mick’s attention as he staggered off the floor with his arm around a pretty props girl.

  “Hey, it’s the Joey man,” Mick said, swaying on his feet. “How’s it goin’? Where’s the love of your unworthy life? You lucky bastard.”

  “I was just about to ask you,” Joey said.

  “Ain’t spotted the lovely Lara,” Mick said, pushing up his glasses. “Guess she’s still freaked over the photos.”

  “What photos?”

  “Oh, man—you mean you haven’t seen Truth and Fact? Everyone’s favorite weekly tabloid. Lara’s pissed city. Go ask Linden. He’s by the bar.”

  Joey went over to Linden. “What’s this about some photos?” he asked, frowning.

  “You don’t know?” Linden said.

  “No, I don’t fuckin’ know,” Joey said, starting to get irritated.

  “Some . . . uh . . . unfortunate photographs of Lara turned up in Truth and Fact,” Linden said. “Somebody sneaked ’em while they were shooting the rape scene. They’re very explicit, and Lara’s very upset.”

  “Jesus!” Joey said. “How’d it happen?”

  “That’s what everyone would like to know.”

  “So she’s gone home, right?”

  “I would think so,” Linden said. “I’m positive she won’t show up here tonight.”

  “Does Nikki know about this?”

  “She’s upset too.”

  “No shit?”

  “I’m sorry it happened.”

  “I bet you are,” Joey muttered, hurrying back to the Mercedes, where he picked up the phone and tried the house. Mrs. Crenshaw answered. “Lara back yet?” he asked.

  “No, Mr. Joey.”

  “When she gets there, tell her I’m on my way.”

  • •

  The rain was getting heavier as Cassie turned off the Pacific Coast Highway onto a deserted dirt road. “We’re almost there,” she announced. “Do you have the key?”

  “No, you do,” Lara replied, still in kind of a daze.

  “No, I don’t,” Cassie replied, slowing down.

  “Why not?” Lara asked, exasperated.

  “Because nobody ever gave me one. I assumed when you said we were coming here that you had it.”

  “Shit!” Lara exclaimed.

  Now Cassie knew she was really upset, because Lara rarely swore. “Shall I turn around and go back?” she questioned.

  “No,” Lara said sharply. “We’ll get in somehow. There’s probably an unlocked door or window. After all, nobody’s living there.”

  “If you ask me, we should stay in a hotel overnight and have the realtor drop off the keys tomorrow.”

  “We’re here now,” Lara said flatly. “Not having a key is the least of my problems.”

  “You’re the boss.” Cassie sighed, spooked by the heavy rain, the unlit road and the empty house ahead. She was surprised Lara had bought the place. Even when Lara was renting, Cassie’d never thought much of it—the house was too remote and quite gloomy, with none of the charm of the Hamptons house.

  The Saab hit a bump in the road. “I can’t see a thing,” Cassie complained, switching on her bright lights.

  Lara wished Cassie would stop bitching. She wasn’t in the frame of mind to put up with anyone’s complaints. One of the advantages of being a star was that she didn’t have to—if she said jump, that’s what people were supposed to do. So shut up, Cass, we’re staying whether you like it or not.

  She wondered if Joey had realized she was missing. I
t would take a while before he understood she was not coming back. In a couple of days she’d have her lawyer call to tell him to move out of her house. And that would be that.

  The big iron gate leading to the property was open. “Nice,” Cassie said, making the turn, the wheels of her car crunching through pebbles and thick mud. “They’re really security conscious.”

  “It’s a good sign,” Lara said. “Means we’ll have no trouble getting in.”

  “Very reassuring!” Cassie sighed, fending off hunger pangs. “Can’t wait to spend the night.”

  • •

  Joey pulled the Mercedes up outside a 7-Eleven store and ran inside. He picked up a copy of Truth and Fact and stared in disbelief at the revealing photographs on the front page. Jesus! What had they done to his beautiful Lara? He knew how private she was, how closely she guarded her good reputation—these sleazy pictures were enough to drive her crazy.

  Slamming down money, he stormed back to the car. It was all Nikki’s fault—she’d probably set it up to get publicity for her goddamn movie.

  He started the engine and roared off. Why hadn’t Lara called him? Too upset, of course.

  The sooner he was with her the better.

  Nobody knew more than he how soul destroying it was to get set up.

  • •

  “I need money desperately, Joey.” So spoke the lovely Adelaide, his mother, always asking for something.

  Adelaide was seventeen when she met Joey’s father, Pete Lorenzo, a small-time wise guy who was sixty when he knocked up the pretty teenager. Two years later, he’d finally married her. He was getting on in years; it was time to settle down with a woman who’d look after him.

  Only Adelaide wasn’t that woman. Adelaide had no intention of looking after anyone except herself. Once she’d hooked Pete, she hired a sitter to watch Joey, and proceeded to accompany her husband wherever he went. His hangouts were the racetrack, the fights, poker games and pool halls. Adelaide was by his side every step of the way.

  One weekend they took three-year-old Joey with them to Vegas. He nearly drowned in the hotel swimming pool while they were busy playing craps. Another time, in Atlantic City, they left him in a hotel room, where he nearly got trapped in a fire.

  It was a hell of a childhood—neither parent had much time for him.