Hollywood Divorces • Hollywood Wives: The New Generation

by Jackie Collins

  ‘Uh-huh,’ Saffron said knowingly. ‘The girl is jealous all right.’

  ‘I am so not,’ Nicci said indignantly, snatching up a red T-shirt with BAD GIRL emblazoned in sequins across the front.

  ‘What’s the deal, Nic?’ Saffron persisted. ‘Don’t tell me you like Brian too?’

  Nicci shook her head vigorously. ‘I so do not appreciate this conversation.’

  ‘Check your messages again,’ Saffron teased. ‘Maybe he’s called. And, girl, that T-shirt is not for you. You gotta have no boobs to carry it off.’

  ‘Anyone ever told you you’re a twenty-carat bitch?’ Nicci demanded, well aware she’d been busted.

  Saffron grinned and twirled her gold nose-ring. ‘All the time, girl. All the time!’

  Michael and Quincy were in the car on their way to meet a new client, a real estate developer who suspected his business partner was ripping him off.

  ‘I dropped by to see Lissa Roman yesterday,’ Quincy said, as Michael drove them over the canyon. ‘She seems happy enough.’

  ‘I doubt she’s happy,’ Michael answered carefully. ‘She’s all over the tabloids.’

  ‘We didn’t get into that,’ Quincy said, flipping open a stick of gum. ‘All she did was keep asking about you.’

  ‘Oh,’ Michael said, his expression blank.

  ‘Yeah,’ Quincy continued. ‘She seemed quite interested in what you were doin’.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s business only.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s not,’ Quincy responded, throwing Michael a sideways look. ‘Did anythin’ go on between you an’ her?’

  ‘No,’ Michael said, concentrating on his driving.

  ‘Ha!’ Quincy said disbelievingly.

  ‘What’s with the ha?’

  ‘Nothin’.’

  They drove in silence for a few minutes, then Quincy said, ‘You’d better give her a call.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Cause we’re workin’ her case, an’ you should check she’s feelin’ good about everything.’

  ‘I thought you saw her yesterday.’

  ‘I did, but it’s you she wants.’ Quincy chuckled. ‘Mister Casanova scores again.’

  ‘That’s a dumb thing to say, Q.’

  ‘Yeah? I can tell when a babe is interested in makin’ it somethin’ more.’

  ‘First of all, she’s no babe, she’s a client. So, I’m wondering why you would even be encouraging this. And secondly, I am seeing her. Tonight. She wants to…go over some things.’

  ‘I knew it!’ Quincy crowed. ‘Go over what things?’

  ‘Whether the ex has a gun or not, ’cause if he does carry an unregistered weapon, I’m thinking I should arrange to have him pulled over, get him thrown in jail for a couple of nights.’

  ‘Yeah, an’ what else does she wanna go over?’

  ‘I dunno,’ Michael said, anxious to get off the subject. ‘She wants to see me, that’s all.’

  ‘Didn’t I just say that?’

  ‘It’s not what you think.’

  ‘An’ what do I think?’

  ‘You think she wants to get it on with me, right?’

  ‘She’s a woman, an’ she takes one look at you, an’ she’s gotta say to herself, “Here’s a real guy, not one of them fancy actor dudes.”’

  ‘Jesus, Q, you should be writing soap operas. There’s no way she’s interested in me.’

  ‘Wanna place a bet, my man?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ Michael said evenly. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, I am not a gambling man.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re a lover, right?

  ‘Get off it, asshole. You’re starting to piss me off.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Eric Vernon did not consider himself a dreamer, he considered himself a realist. Lately he’d been dreaming a lot. When he closed his eyes at night he saw money, piles and piles of money, raining down on him. Sometimes in those moments between sleeping and waking, he’d imagine he was lying on a bed made of crisp new hundred-dollar bills. Then he’d open his eyes and reality would hit him in the face.

  Saturday morning he set off to meet Arliss and his cronies again. The first meeting had gone well. Once he’d convinced them that kidnapping wasn’t the heinous crime it used to be, he’d arranged another meeting to discuss exactly how the job would go down. Now he was on his way.

  ‘Who’re we goin’ t’ snatch?’ Arliss immediately wanted to know.

  Eric regarded the skinny man with cold eyes, he was sick of Arliss asking the same old question. ‘That’s something I can’t tell you right now.’

  ‘When do we get t’ know?’ Big Mark demanded belligerently.

  ‘On the day of the job.’

  ‘Is it someone famous?’ Joe asked, his pop eyes bulging in anticipation.

  ‘This is not Twenty Questions,’ Eric snapped.

  Pattie appeared at the table, sad tits drooping as usual. ‘What can I get you, gentlemen?’ she asked.

  ‘Anything they want,’ Eric said, barely glancing in her direction.

  As soon as she walked off, he laid out his plan. Davey would be in charge of transport: he’d pick a car from the wrecking yard, and that would be the vehicle they’d use. ‘When the job’s done, you’ll take the car back to the yard and make sure it gets junked immediately.’

  Davey nodded eagerly. He could do that.

  ‘Joe’s job is to get the chloroform to put her out while we transport her to the location.’

  ‘So it’s a woman,’ Big Mark crowed triumphantly.

  ‘Women are easier to handle,’ Eric answered, not giving away any more than he had to.

  ‘Is she famous?’ Joe said, repeating himself.

  ‘I told you, I have no intention of revealing her identity until the time is right.’

  ‘Why?’ Arliss asked, his thin face twitching uncontrollably.

  ‘It’s not important. What is important is keeping this to ourselves and working as a team.’

  ‘How much ransom you gonna ask?’ Arliss said.

  ‘That’s nobody’s business,’ Eric replied sharply. ‘You’re all getting well paid.’

  ‘That’s for you to say,’ Big Mark said loudly.

  Eric turned on him. ‘This is my scam, do you understand?’ he said harshly. ‘You’ll get your share once the money is paid. If that’s not good enough, you’d better walk now.’

  ‘Nobody’s walkin’,’ Arliss said, still twitching.

  ‘Glad to hear it.’ Eric stared at Big Mark. ‘Your job is handling the physical part. Once she’s unconscious, you’ll get her to the car and put her in the trunk. When we reach the building, you’ll carry her to the room Arliss has prepped. Can you handle that?’

  ‘I can carry two women,’ Big Mark boasted, ‘an’ don’t think I ain’t done it.’

  ‘We probably won’t have to keep her longer than twenty-four to forty-eight hours before the ransom is settled.’

  ‘When’s this goin’ down?’ Arliss asked.

  ‘Next Saturday,’ Eric said, ‘so keep yourselves available. By Monday or Tuesday it should all be over. You’ll get your cash, and you’ll keep your mouths closed. Because if you don’t, I can assure you there will be very bad consequences.’

  ‘Sounds easy,’ Arliss said.

  ‘Not easy, foolproof,’ Eric replied. ‘Unless one of you screws up.’

  ‘Nobody’s screwin’ up,’ Big Mark growled.

  ‘Good,’ Eric said. He still had a gut feeling that Big Mark could turn out to be bad news. He resolved to watch him closely at all times.

  Now all he had to do was decide exactly what time to snatch Nicci. Late afternoon would be good. The maid always left by noon, and when Nicci came home after her lunches or shopping or kickboxing classes, she was alone in the house, and didn’t usually go out again until nine or ten at night, when she drove herself to meet friends at a restaurant or club. He’d noticed that she was not at all security-conscious–he’d seen her open the door to anyone.

  Th
e following Saturday worked well, because that weekend Lissa Roman would be getting her big pay-day in Vegas, so it should be no problem for her to come up with the cash. Danny had already informed him that they were all off to Vegas on Thursday and that Nicci never accompanied her mother to public events.

  ‘Lissa likes to keep her out of the spotlight,’ he’d confided. ‘She says it’s for her own safety, but I think it’s ’cause having a nineteen-year-old kid might make her seem old. Although, of course, my princess could never seem old. She’s ageless.’

  Danny adored his boss. Eric had learned to pretend that he adored her too. He elicited more information that way.

  Nicci, he thought. You are my ticket to ride. You are my one-way flight to the Bahamas, where I am planning to live happily ever after.

  And if his team of losers didn’t fuck up, he would be gone before anyone realized it. Gone with all the money, for he had no intention of paying one dime to this loser group of misfits.

  And what the hell could they do about it?

  Nothing.

  Because by the time he got the money, Eric Vernon would have ceased to exist.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Michael was in the middle of a shower when Carol called. He ran out of the bathroom, almost slipping and breaking his neck on the wet tiled floor. He grabbed the phone, thinking it might be Lissa cancelling their date–not that it was a date–but, anyway, he didn’t want to miss her if it was her.

  When Carol said hello, his stomach dropped. He’d forgotten about her. He’d also conveniently forgotten about the dinner she was cooking at her apartment the following night for Amber, Quincy and him.

  ‘All I need to know is if you’re allergic to anything,’ she said, sounding surprisingly cheerful considering he hadn’t called her since the night he’d left to rescue Lissa.

  She knew he wasn’t allergic–they’d had that discussion the first week they’d gone out, so she was obviously checking to make sure he remembered her dinner.

  ‘Seven thirty,’ she said crisply. ‘I’m entering into competition with Amber.’

  ‘Huh?’

  A light laugh. ‘I’m cooking enough for ten people, so bring your appetite.’

  He felt obliged to make excuses for not calling.

  She seemed unfazed. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Amber told me how busy you and Quincy have been.’

  He clicked off the phone and stood there for a moment. He was stark naked, dripping wet, and looking forward to seeing Lissa Roman–a woman who could do nothing for him except complicate his life. He hated himself for stringing Carol along, it was only fair that he cut her loose. The main reason he’d kept on seeing her was because he knew he was going to break it off one day, therefore removing all the commitment pressure. How selfish was that?

  Tomorrow night, after dinner, he’d give her the speech. And it wasn’t a line, she did deserve better than he was capable of giving.

  He was well aware that he’d closed down emotionally when his daughter was taken away from him. It was only by the grace of God that he hadn’t started drinking again. Christ, what a nightmare that would’ve been.

  Whenever he thought about his drinking years he was filled with dread. He never intended to go down that rocky road again. He’d been drunk when he’d married Rita. If he’d been sober, he might have seen her for the damaged woman she was and not been caught in her devious trap.

  The phone rang again. This time he knew it would be Lissa, cancelling. But no, it was Amber.

  ‘Michael,’ Amber said, cutting straight to the chase like it was any of her business, ‘I love you as if you was Quincy’s brother, which is why I’m gonna tell you that you’re makin’ a mistake goin’ over to Lissa Roman’s house tonight. An’ don’t get me wrong, she’s a lovely lady I’m sure, but, honey, you’re way out of your league, and Quince an’ I do not want t’ see you gettin’ hurt, so I thought I’d have my say.’

  What was it with Quincy? Couldn’t he keep anything to himself? Now Amber would go running to Carol with her information.

  ‘It’s not a date, for crissakes,’ he snapped. ‘And I do not appreciate you telling me what I should do.’

  ‘That’s what friends are for, Michael,’ Amber said, all holier-than-thou. ‘Lissa Roman is a movie star. She’ll break your heart an’ scatter the pieces wherever the fancy takes her.’

  ‘Do me a big one, Amber. Keep your opinions to yourself. The agency is doing work for Lissa Roman, and that’s all it is. Work.’

  He clicked off before she could say another word, suddenly realizing that the two girls who lived in the apartment across the street were standing at their window enjoying the free show.

  He stomped back into the bathroom. Talk about raining on a parade. And it wasn’t even a date.

  It’s not a date, Lissa thought, as she rummaged through her closet frantically searching for the right outfit. It’s a meeting to—

  The phone. Dammit. She was sure it was Michael calling to tell her he couldn’t make it.

  She picked up without waiting for Danny to get it.

  Bad move.

  Gregg’s voice.

  Unmistakable.

  Filled with hate.

  Drunk.

  ‘You fucking dumb-ass cocksucking bitch. I’m gonna—’

  She slammed the phone down before he could tell her what he was going to do.

  It rang again immediately.

  This time she didn’t pick up. She was shaking. Now she had a legitimate reason to talk to Michael. She waited a few minutes, then buzzed Danny. ‘Who was that?’ she asked.

  ‘A hang-up,’ he responded.

  ‘Tomorrow I’d like you to change all our numbers.’

  ‘Including your cell?’

  ‘Everything.’

  ‘If you’re sure.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure, Danny. Please do it.’

  ‘Brian hasn’t called,’ Nicci said over the phone.

  ‘Shit!’ Evan said. ‘He was supposed to pick up those papers and fly right back. I can’t trust him to do a goddamn thing.’

  ‘Well…’ Nicci ventured. ‘Could be he had other stuff to take care of first.’

  ‘Are you making excuses for him?’ Evan said irritably, daring her to do so.

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Oh, for Crissake, Nicci,’ Evan exploded. ‘When are you going to realize that my brother is a total fuck-up?’

  Was this becoming a habit, Evan screaming at her?

  She hoped not, because she didn’t like it one little bit.

  ‘I’m sorry, Evan,’ she said, keeping her aggravation level under control because, after all, he was the man she was planning to marry. ‘It’s not my fault he hasn’t called.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I know,’ Evan said, calming down. ‘Try him on this number and tell him to get over there and pick up the papers. I should’ve had you Fed-Ex them, it would’ve been faster.’

  ‘I can still do that.’

  ‘No, that’s okay. By the way, my mother’s flying out to L.A. earlier than expected.’

  ‘She is?’ Nicci said, alarmed. ‘Like when?’

  ‘Wednesday or Thursday. She hasn’t decided. I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Evan, you won’t be back until next week,’ she pointed out.

  ‘That’s okay, she’s very independent.’

  Crap! Nicci thought. Don’t tell me I’m going to be stuck with the intimidating Lynda all by myself. This is a nightmare!

  Evan gave her Brian’s number and hung up.

  Naturally, when she called, a girl answered.

  ‘Is Brian there?’ she asked.

  ‘He might be,’ the girl said, sounding sulky. ‘Who wants him?’

  ‘His sister-in-law,’ Nicci said.

  ‘Didn’t know he had a sister-in-law,’ the girl muttered.

  ‘I’m sure there’s a lot about Brian you don’t know.’

  ‘What?’ the girl said, sounding stupid.

  Obviously Brian’s type,
Nicci thought.

  ‘Tell him he’s supposed to pick up some papers from his brother’s house. It’s important, dear.’

  ‘If I see him, I’ll tell him,’ the girl said, in an uptight voice.

  Nicci hung up. What was it with Brian? Did he need a new girl every week? Why couldn’t he have kept Miss Russia around for a while?

  How come this jerk keeps on getting to me? she thought.

  She had no answer to that. He just did.

  Shortly before Michael arrived, Kyndra called Lissa. ‘I’m feelin’ guilty, hon’,’ she confessed, in her low-down smoky voice. ‘I’ve been locked in the studio, so I haven’t been following what’s been going on. I know I should’ve come to see you before, I’m on my way over now.’

  ‘Bad timing,’ Lissa said, coming up with a quick excuse. ‘You’ve caught me in the middle of a meeting.’

  ‘How long will it go for?’ Kyndra asked.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Lissa replied offhandedly. ‘Tomorrow’s good. I’m rehearsing in the morning, free in the afternoon. We could have lunch.’

  ‘Tomorrow’s the day before my wedding anniversary,’ Kyndra reminded her. ‘Our big party is coming up on Wednesday. And you know we expect to see you, so you’d better not let us down.’

  ‘I’m not feeling very social right now,’ Lissa explained, hoping Kyndra would understand. ‘Everywhere I go the paparazzi follow, and according to James, there’s a show on TV tonight featuring my soon-to-be ex.’

  ‘Yeah, that would be his style,’ Kyndra drawled. ‘Major exposure for loser of the year.’

  ‘How’s the album going?’ Lissa asked.

  ‘Sweet an’ soulful,’ Kyndra said. ‘Exactly the way we like it.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to hearing some tracks. I’ll be in the studio myself soon.’

  ‘You writing?’

  ‘I’ll probably jot down a couple of heartbreak songs. Although, I have to say my heart is not broken. Saying goodbye to Gregg was a big relief.’

  ‘We all warned you.’

  ‘Don’t remind me,’ Lissa said tersely. ‘In future I’ll learn to listen.’

  ‘Okay, hon, I’ll see you at our party. Oh, an’ Saffron’s bringing some friends, including Nicci.’