Hollywood Divorces • Hollywood Wives: The New Generation

by Jackie Collins

‘Good. Get the fuck out and don’t come whining back, ’cause we’re over. I’ve had enough of your holier-than-thou sanctimonious shit.’

  ‘And I’ve had enough of you, Linc.’

  ‘Get out,’ he shouted. ‘Go flash your tits in another fuckin’ movie. You’re useless. You hear me? Fuckin’ useless.’

  Tony was on a high. He greeted Selma with a courtly bow, kissing her as if she were his long-lost cousin. ‘You’re a beauty, like your sister,’ he said, turning on his considerable charm. ‘That’s some sexy dress.’

  Selma was wearing a slinky black cocktail dress that Lola had purchased for her at Bergdorf’s: it suited her admirably. Lola had also summoned a hairdresser and makeup artist to come to the suite and minister to her shy sister. They’d managed to make Selma look quite glamorous–the result was impressive. Isabelle would be a jealous wreck.

  Lola desperately wanted Selma and Tony to like each other. That way Selma could go back to L.A. and tell the family what a great guy he was.

  Tony took them to a happening Cuban restaurant, one of his favourite places for dinner. They gorged themselves on pineapple chicken, special rice, black beans and a full selection of delicious coconut dishes.

  Lola, clad in a pale blue silk Robert Cavalli dress, could see that the two of them were getting along. Tony’s mood was extremely buoyant, and even though she was sure he was responsible for the beating of Tyrell White, she decided not to mention it again. It was over, and Tony would never admit he had had anything to do with it, so what was the point?

  Thinking about it made her shiver. Tony was a wild man and it was unwise for anyone to cross him.

  But he was her man, and whatever anyone said about him, he always would be.

  Cat was in a line at the departure gate, waiting to board the United flight to L.A. when she heard a familiar voice.

  ‘Cat, is that you?’

  ‘Shelby!’ she said, turning round. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I flew in for the Rapture press junket,’ Shelby replied. ‘And you?’

  ‘I’m not supposed to be here, so you cannot tell Merrill. He’d be livid if he knew I’d left L.A. in the middle of the movie.’

  ‘Actually, I flew in on Merrill’s plane,’ Shelby said.

  ‘Lucky you. Please be extra sure you don’t mention I was here.’

  The airline official escorting Shelby aboard asked if they would like to sit together.

  ‘Certainly,’ Shelby said, and he went off to arrange it.

  ‘How was your press junket?’ Cat asked, once they were settled in their seats.

  ‘It left my head spinning,’ Shelby replied, fastening her seatbelt. ‘People are being so nice about the movie, I’m totally overwhelmed.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ Cat said. ‘You deserve it.’

  ‘I’m sure you experienced the same thing with Wild Child.’

  ‘Well…I was this big discovery for ten minutes. I mean, it’s not as if a lot of females get to direct movies–especially young ones. Fortunately for me, being a director is not like movie-star fame.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Doesn’t having no privacy drive you totally nuts?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ Shelby replied. ‘Although I certainly don’t have the kind of fame Linc has.’

  ‘Where is Linc?’

  ‘Making a movie in New York with Lola Sanchez.’

  ‘At least you got to see him for a few hours.’

  ‘Not really,’ Shelby said wistfully. ‘We’re not in a very good place right now.’

  ‘Join the club,’ Cat said. ‘My day was brutal.’

  ‘It was?’

  ‘My girlfriend and I went up to my loft to pack up my things–I’m divorcing my husband. Anyway, in walks this girl who I’d recently seen having sex with my old man on a videotape. This same girl is wearing my favourite jacket, which he gave to her as a gift. How’s that for a bad day?’

  ‘Even worse than mine.’

  ‘I’m glad I caught him before it was too late. We’ve only been married a couple of years, so I haven’t wasted too much time.’

  ‘How old are you?’

  ‘I’ll be twenty in a couple of months. Can’t wait. Nineteen is still a teenager. I don’t act like a teenager, though, do I?’

  ‘Well…you don’t exactly dress like an adult,’ Shelby commented.

  ‘I’m not into that whole phoney Hollywood glamour bit. Fake tits and your ass on your mouth.’

  Shelby laughed, glad to have something to take her mind off Linc and their disturbing confrontation.

  ‘What is it with fake lips and boobs anyway? I think they’re a bad joke–something men force women into getting.’

  ‘Perhaps women do it because they feel inadequate without them,’ Shelby offered.

  ‘Ha!’ Cat exclaimed. ‘Betcha wouldn’t catch men with small dicks doing it.’

  ‘I’m sure they would if they could,’ Shelby said, smiling.

  ‘Hmm…maybe you’re right. Have you seen all those ads for penile enlargements? It’s totally insane!’

  ‘Here’s what I like about you, Cat,’ Shelby said. ‘You’re a true original.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘It’s so refreshing in a town where all the women are encouraged to emulate supermodels. I hate having to go to a première, and I’ve been coerced by some stylist into wearing yet another designer dress. It makes me feel as if I’m selling clothes–not to mention all the borrowed jewellery.’

  ‘What’s your real style?’ Cat asked curiously.

  ‘A tracksuit and sunglasses to hide the bags,’ Shelby said wryly. ‘I never wore makeup when I lived in England, not unless I was working. Linc always used to tease me about it. He says I’m not movie-star material.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with being your own person. Look at me.’

  ‘You’re right. I should be recognized for my acting skills, not for the designer dresses I wear.’

  ‘You’re so English,’ Cat remarked.

  ‘Is that a bad thing?’

  ‘I meant it as a compliment. I can’t get over how good you are as my edgy American cop, yet off the set you’re this perfect English lady.’

  ‘There’s nothing perfect about me,’ Shelby assured her. ‘I’m actually quite ordinary.’

  ‘No,’ Cat said, shaking her head. ‘That’s one thing you’re definitely not.’

  Tony and Selma seemed to be getting along famously, although Lola sensed unrest in the air, because every club they went to she found herself getting bothered by fans, and she was worried that if another man came on to her, Tony might lose it again.

  ‘It’s Saturday night,’ Big Jay informed her in a hoarse whisper. ‘Not wise for you to be out in public on a Saturday night.’

  Big Jay didn’t speak much, but when he did he was always right on.

  ‘Let’s go back to the hotel,’ she suggested to Tony. ‘We can have drinks in your suite and party there with all your friends.’

  ‘Nah, I like to stay where the action is. I wanna watch you do your thing, babe. Get up an’ dance.’

  ‘Not without you, Tony.’

  ‘Dance with your sister, then.’

  ‘Selma’s too shy. Besides, that’s asking for trouble–two women by themselves on the dance floor. You saw what happened last night.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, with the shadow of a smile. ‘And Tyrell got his, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered sharply. ‘And you’re responsible.’

  ‘Why d’you keep on sayin’ that?’

  ‘’Cause it’s true. You can deny it all you want, but I know you too well.’

  He picked up his glass of champagne. ‘You sure your sister doesn’t swing?’

  ‘Selma is a married woman,’ she answered primly.

  ‘The Sanchez sisters,’ Tony said, grinning. ‘How about the Sanchez sisters and Tony Alvarez? Some fuckin’ trio, huh? Four beautiful boobs, two beautiful—’

  ‘Tony!’ Lola said, stopping him short. ‘This is my family
you’re talking about. You want a threesome, call up that putta you sent back to L.A.’

  ‘Oh, yeah? If I get her here you’ll do a threesome?’

  ‘Grow up!’ she said, brown eyes flashing. ‘You know I’m not into that.’

  He grinned again. ‘I’m teasin’ your ass, baby. I like watchin’ you get all fiery an’ excited.’

  One of Tony’s friends, Chico, a wiry-looking record producer, moved in on Selma and asked her if she wanted to dance.

  ‘No, thank you,’ Selma said.

  ‘Go ahead,’ Tony encouraged. ‘You’re in New York, have yourself a time.’

  Selma glanced at Lola unsurely. Lola nodded her approval. The Sanchez women were known for their skills on the dance floor, so she wasn’t about to deprive her favourite sister of a good time. If she wanted to dance with Chico, she should go ahead and do so. Frankly, she considered Selma’s husband an extremely dull man who probably never took her dancing.

  Once Selma and Chico hit the dance floor, Lola persuaded Tony to get up and join them. She wasn’t about to do any more exhibition dances for him, not in public anyway, and certainly not on a Saturday night.

  As soon as she and Tony began to dance, the crowd cleared, forming an admiring circle around them.

  Lips parted, head back, Lola got into it as the throbbing salsa sound swept her to another place. Tony pulled her close, and they danced as one, his body hard against hers. She was utterly turned on.

  By the time they left the club they were a happy group. To Lola’s delight, Selma and Tony had definitely hit it off. She could tell that her sister liked him. What was there not to like? Tony was handsome, charming, a true Latino sexy man. Now Selma could go back to L.A. and report to the family what a great guy he was.

  They exited the club laughing.

  Throwing his arm round Lola’s shoulder, Tony leaned close, whispering what he planned to do to her when they got back to the hotel. Selma was busy talking to Chico.

  The gunshot fire came out of nowhere, a rapid blast of bullets.

  Tony automatically flung Lola to the ground, his body covering hers. Big Jay fell on top of them, shielding them both.

  There was much confusion and noise and screaming.

  Lola could barely breathe. She struggled out from under Tony and saw Selma fall.

  Tony’s bodyguards were busy pulling guns and firing back. But they were too late, the car holding the gunman sped away.

  ‘They’ve shot my sister!’ Lola screamed. ‘Oh…God! THEY’VE SHOT MY SISTER!’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Shelby and Cat spent the rest of the flight back to L.A. getting to know each other. Even though there was an eleven-year age gap between them, they found they had plenty in common. Cat talked about her drug days, meeting Jump and how cool she’d thought he was.

  Shelby talked about her early days in England, her move to America, and how overwhelming it was for her when she’d first met Linc. ‘He’s an amazing man when he wants to be,’ she said wistfully.

  ‘I remember seeing him in movies when I was a kid,’ Cat said.

  ‘He’s not that old,’ Shelby said with a slight smile. ‘He’s only in his forties.’

  ‘I know,’ Cat said. ‘Although it seems like he’s been around for ever.’

  The flight attendant came by and served them a light snack. Then the attendant asked Shelby if she’d mind signing an autograph for her niece who happened to have the same name as her.

  ‘I’m not sure I can live with Linc any more,’ Shelby confided, when the flight attendant finally left. ‘He has a drinking problem, and it’s getting to be too much.’

  ‘Have you told him?’ Cat asked, nibbling a cheese cracker.

  ‘I’ve tried to. He doesn’t seem to hear me. Yesterday he informed me that I had to walk off your movie or have Pete fired.’

  ‘Pete?’ Cat said, shocked. ‘Our stunt coordinator?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Why would he want to get Pete fired?’

  ‘Because Pete and I used to go out way before I met Linc. I didn’t bother mentioning to him that Pete was on our movie, so when he saw a picture of us together in People he went berserk.’

  ‘Ha! Those paparazzi shots can cause big trouble.’

  ‘I had no idea we were being photographed,’ Shelby explained. ‘Pete and I were having lunch, it was nothing more than that.’

  ‘It’s all about publicity when you’re famous,’ Cat remarked. ‘You can forget privacy.’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘All those crap TV shows, the tabloids and the magazines, you think the people who run them care about celebrities’ feelings?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Here’s the thing. A person can be in an awesome marriage or relationship–they don’t care. They’ll go right ahead and publish a rumour that you’ve been seen out with someone else, which creates a big mess. And that’s exactly what they’re hoping for.’

  ‘I agree.’

  ‘Man! I’m lucky I’m not in the public eye.’

  ‘Actually you are,’ Shelby agreed. ‘You’re a young girl directing a big movie. A gorgeous Cameron Diaz-style blonde, so you will get noticed and written about.’

  ‘Gee, thanks. I can’t wait.’

  ‘Maybe you should’ve been an actress.’

  ‘Are you saying that all good-looking women should be actresses?’ Cat exclaimed. ‘How sexist is that!’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Well, anyway, here we are,’ Cat sighed, helping herself to another cheese cracker. ‘Both of us about to get divorced.’

  ‘I didn’t say I was getting a divorce,’ Shelby said quickly.

  ‘It sounds to me that’s what you have in mind.’

  ‘It’s complicated,’ Shelby said unsurely. ‘I have to talk it through with my therapist.’

  ‘I’d never go to a shrink,’ Cat said, snatching up a handful of peanuts. ‘All they do is look bored and try to make you cry. They’re sort of the Barbara Walters of the doctors’ brigade.’

  ‘I gather you’ve had experience.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. When I was fourteen my dad thought it was a cool idea. How dumb was that?’

  ‘Therapists can be helpful,’ Shelby said gently. ‘It’s not general knowledge, although it’s been written about in some of the more in-depth articles about him, but Linc suffered an extremely violent childhood.’

  ‘What happened?’ Cat asked curiously.

  ‘I don’t want to get into it now,’ Shelby said evasively.

  ‘I can’t stand people who blame everything on their parents,’ Cat said, wrinkling her nose. ‘I could’ve been a total fuck-up because of my parents. I mean, even though they were rich and kind of spoiled me, I never got any real love and attention from them. So I became a druggie at fifteen, living by myself in New York, until Jump came along and rescued me. It’s only now that I’ve finally taken control of my life.’

  ‘And a very good job you’ve done,’ Shelby said. ‘I have to say you’re extremely mature for your years.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m an old soul,’ Cat said, grinning. ‘That’s what everyone tells me.’

  At LAX, they were greeted by airline personnel waiting to meet Shelby. Several lurking paparazzi hovered outside the terminal. Cat tried to distance herself from Shelby, which made the photographers notice her, and wonder who she was.

  ‘Shit!’ she muttered. If Merrill saw photos of her at the airport he’d be pissed. Although how could he be pissed when she was already back in L.A.?

  They shared a car from the airport into town.

  ‘See you Monday on the set,’ Cat said, when Shelby dropped her off.

  ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Shelby replied.

  Cat couldn’t wait to get back to work. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She had her stuff–no more connections. Jump was history.

  It was a delightful feeling of freedom.

  Lola rode in the ambulance
to the emergency room. Selma was lying on a stretcher, unconscious. She’d been hit by two bullets. One had grazed her temple and the second was lodged somewhere near her thigh.

  The entire evening had been a nightmare. The shooting; the police; the crowds of gawkers who came out of nowhere; the flashing cameras that wouldn’t quit.

  Big Jay had been hit in the shoulder, although it didn’t seem to have affected him too much–he was still on his feet. Tony was unscathed, so was Lola.

  ‘Want me to come with you, babe?’ Tony had asked as she’d climbed in the ambulance.

  ‘No,’ she’d said, barely able to look at him. Didn’t he understand? It was all his fucking fault.

  The ambulance men were very kind. They allowed her to sit next to Selma, keeping a tight hold on her hand.

  ‘Will she be all right?’ she kept on asking.

  ‘Can’t tell until the doctors take a look at her.’

  ‘She’s got to be all right,’ Lola insisted. ‘She’s got to. This all happened because of me.’

  ‘How’s that?’ one of the attendants asked.

  ‘She came to New York to be with me. If I hadn’t taken her out tonight, this never would’ve happened.’

  ‘Mustn’t blame yourself,’ the attendant said. ‘Violence is everywhere. You have no idea how many gunshot wounds we handle each day.’

  ‘I don’t want to know,’ she said, her eyes filling with tears. ‘This is my sister. And she will not die because I won’t let her.’

  There was more chaos outside the emergency room. The paparazzi were everywhere and the flashing cameras wouldn’t quit–the photographers were like rabid bees, buzzing around, getting in everyone’s face.

  Lola wanted to kill them all. What a bunch of low-lifes. Why did they feel they had the right to intrude on such a private moment of tragedy?

  Pale and serious, she rushed in beside Selma’s stretcher, still clutching her sister’s hand.

  Doctors hurried forward and immediately took over. Lola knew she had to call her mother before she heard it on the news. She slumped against a wall, desperately trying to control herself. With shaking hands she took out her cell phone and punched in the number. ‘Mama,’ she managed, choking back sobs. ‘Mama, get on a plane and come here at once. I’m…so…sorry. There’s been an accident. Selma’s been shot.’