Hollywood Divorces • Hollywood Wives: The New Generation

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Hollywood Divorces • Hollywood Wives: The New Generation Page 77

by Jackie Collins


  Linc peered at her in the mirror. Was it true? Had he slept with her?

  Freddy was probably wrong. If he’d screwed Lola Sanchez, it would surely be something he’d never forget.

  Damn! He simply couldn’t remember.

  ‘I’m fixing you up,’ Cat announced.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Jonas replied.

  ‘I said I’m fixing you up. I’ve found the perfect girl for you.’

  ‘If I was interested in the perfect girl, I’d go find her myself,’ Jonas said. He hated it when Cat got busy with his love-life. He didn’t need any help. Unbeknown to Cat, he and the continuity girl had been hitting it off quite nicely.

  ‘How would you do that?’ Cat asked, hitching up her low-rider jeans. ‘You never go anywhere, you work all the time.’

  ‘Something wrong with that?’

  ‘Forget about it. This girl is great and we’re all going out.’

  ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘You, me, her and Nick.’

  ‘Nick?’

  ‘Coincidence. Amy is Nick’s sister, and she’s interesting and pretty. She’s also a stand-up comedian, isn’t that wild?’

  ‘A stand-up comedian?’

  ‘Yeah, she’s funny. You like funny, don’t you?’

  ‘I do not need fixing up.’

  ‘Too late. We’re all having dinner at Chow’s tonight.’

  ‘You can’t go ahead and make arrangements for me,’ Jonas protested. ‘I’m not going.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you are. You work for me.’

  ‘Since when do I work for you?’

  ‘Well, you work for Merrill Zandack and I do too, so it’s all in the family. Anyway, I need to discuss post-production things with you, and there’s never time on the set. Chow’s, eight o’clock, you be there, Jonas, otherwise I’ll definitely assume you’re gay.’ She hurried off before he could object further. Amy was perfect for Jonas, even though Nick kept on insisting that Jonas was gay.

  ‘I’m telling you, he’s not,’ Cat assured him.

  ‘He’s either gay or the dude’s got a major crush on you,’ Nick said.

  ‘Don’t be crazy. We’re like brother and sister.’

  ‘You haven’t seen the way he watches you on the set.’

  ‘He’s watching me work, Nick. He’s Merrill’s spy, it’s his job to keep an eye on what’s happening.’

  ‘You’re a fuckin’ girl, you don’t get it. I know these things.’

  After his première, Nick had attempted to invite himself up to her apartment.

  ‘No way,’ she’d said, blocking him in the lobby of her building.

  ‘Why?’ he’d said, giving her his famous bad boy look. ‘Don’t you fancy gettin’ laid?’

  ‘Not by you.’

  ‘Jeez!’ he’d complained. ‘Are you telling me I’ve wasted an evening?’

  ‘Oh, pul-lease. Get over yourself.’

  Actually, she’d been quite tempted. She hadn’t had sex in so long it was a joke.

  Then she realized that she had to be smart. Sex with Nick Logan could turn out to be a major mistake.

  Although…maybe when they wrapped.

  Yeah. Why not? After all, it wasn’t as if she was a nun.

  ‘Your father and I are flying in,’ Martha Cheney informed her daughter over the phone.

  ‘You are?’ Shelby said, quite startled at the thought of her parents descending on her.

  ‘Yes, dear. Your father needs a break.’

  ‘He does?’

  ‘Is it convenient if we stay with you?’

  ‘Of course. Although you do know that I’m in the middle of filming, so I won’t be around too much.’

  ‘We were planning on driving to the South of France, but there’ve been so many robberies there lately that your father feels we shouldn’t risk it. Besides, we’d rather spend time with you. I promise we won’t get in your way.’

  ‘I’m sure you won’t,’ Shelby murmured.

  Since the success of Rapture, things had definitely changed. Occasionally there were paparazzi lingering outside her house, and many stories about her and Linc in the tabloids. It seemed that their marriage had become public fodder. The story about Linc being with Lola Sanchez must have hit the English papers, so her parents were concerned. Hence their upcoming visit.

  ‘When will you be here?’ she asked.

  ‘At the end of the week,’ Martha replied.

  ‘You don’t have to do this, Mum, I’m okay, really I am.’

  ‘Darling, you’re our daughter,’ Martha said. ‘We want to be there for you.’

  Shelby realized there was no point in trying to put them off. Martha Cheney was a very determined woman.

  She hung up and started thinking about the previous evening and Pete’s declaration of love. He’d caught her off guard, and she hadn’t known how to respond.

  ‘I needed to share my feelings with you, Shelby,’ he’d said. ‘If you and Linc don’t make it, you have to know that I’m here for you.’

  ‘I appreciate it, Pete, only I can’t think about getting involved with anyone else at this time.’

  ‘I know,’ he’d said. ‘I can wait.’

  Pete was a very special man, and the knowledge that he still loved her was quite an ego boost.

  Soon she got into her car and drove to the studio. When she arrived, the second assistant informed her that there was a surprise waiting in her trailer.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘You’ll see.’

  She opened the door of her trailer, and there, in the middle of the floor, was a basket containing the adorable golden puppy from last night. Next to the basket was a glass bowl filled with apricot roses–her favourite colour.

  She opened the attached note.

  He pined for you all night–so did I. He needs a safe haven–so do I.

  Love always,

  Pete.

  She didn’t know how to react. It was such a sweet and thoughtful gesture. So genuine.

  She picked up the puppy and it immediately began licking her face.

  She reread Pete’s note.

  If Linc didn’t get it together soon, she would move on.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Lola was desperate to get back to L.A. so that she could take her turn sitting by Selma’s bedside. Her day was spent either working or on the phone. She called Mama at least three or four times, and after work she spoke first to Isabelle, then Selma’s husband and her two children.

  Matt didn’t complain. He was so relieved to be back with her that he didn’t dare say anything that might cause her to throw him out again.

  Most days–since he had nothing else to do–he followed her to work and hung around the set. He was determined to watch out for Linc Blackwood. He’d seen the newspapers, he knew about the rumours.

  Lola’s heart was not in the movie. She was well aware that her performance had become lacklustre, although Elliott Finerman had not complained.

  One day, while they were shooting on location at a restaurant in TriBeCa, Tony Alvarez turned up.

  Fitch Conn welcomed him to the set, and was all over him like a cheap suit. Tony Alvarez was a cult figure in the directing world: his movies were cutting edge and other directors admired his style.

  Lola was shocked to see him–it had been weeks.

  ‘Hey,’ Tony said, walking straight over to her, his intense dark eyes burning into hers.

  She drew back automatically. ‘Tony,’ she said nervously, ‘what are you doing here?’

  ‘You won’t take my calls, you don’t phone me. Why do you think I’m here?’

  ‘I…I’ve been so busy,’ she said, thinking how handsome he looked in a black silk T-shirt and perfectly creased pants. ‘This film is taking up all my time. As soon as it’s over, I’m flying to L.A. to be with Selma.’

  ‘How’s she doing?’

  ‘She’s still in a coma.’

  ‘That’s real messed up.’

  Her eyes darted around to see wher
e Matt was. She did not want them coming face to face–that would not be a good idea.

  ‘Well, Tony,’ she said in a strained voice, ‘it’s nice of you to visit but, as you can see, I’m busy, so maybe we should do this another time.’

  ‘Are you handin’ me bullshit?’ Tony said, in a low, angry voice. ‘You got a short memory, Lola. You swore when we got it back on there’d be no more walkin’ out. You swore you were tellin’ the world about us. An’ now, ’cause there’s a little trouble, you run.’

  ‘I would hardly call my sister getting shot a little trouble,’ she said, her brown eyes flashing.

  ‘I took care of that problem,’ he said ominously.

  ‘Took care of what?’ she asked, shivering.

  ‘You’ll hear about it.’

  ‘Do you know that I’ve been questioned by the police several times? How do you think that makes me feel?’

  ‘Ignore that crap.’

  ‘They wanted to know if you carried a gun.’

  ‘What did you tell ’em?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She sighed deeply. ‘I am not happy about any of it.’

  ‘Scared it’ll hurt your career again, huh?’ he said mockingly. ‘Is it your fuckin’ lawyer advisin’ you to stop seein’ me?’

  ‘It has nothing to do with my career this time,’ she answered quickly. ‘I don’t know if you can understand this, but I feel that what happened to Selma is our fault–you and me. So…it’s better if we don’t see each other any more. We create too much turmoil.’

  ‘You can be a cold bitch when you turn it off.’

  ‘Calling me names now, Tony?’

  ‘I’m saying it like it is. You professed your love for me. One smell of trouble and you’re gone. What kind of loyalty is that?’

  ‘I’m trying to explain how I feel.’

  ‘No, baby,’ he said forcefully. ‘I’m explaining how I feel. I wanna be with you, only you got the wrong dude if you think you can treat me like a piece of shit. If you don’t wanna be with me, you’d better say it now.’

  Lola bit down on her lip. The very sight of Tony was an emotional experience. He still sent tingles up and down her spine, making her weak with desire. How could she give him up?

  Because she had to, for Selma’s sake.

  ‘Are we finished?’ he demanded, his dark eyes staring into hers. ‘Is this for real?’

  Before she could answer, Matt appeared. Obviously furious at seeing Tony, he took her arm possessively. ‘Is everything all right?’ he asked in an uptight voice.

  ‘Who the fuck is this?’ Tony growled.

  ‘For your information, I’m Lola’s husband,’ Matt said.

  Tony laughed derisively. ‘So you’re the jerk she kicked to the kerb so that she could be with me.’

  Matt took a step towards him.

  Lola held him back. ‘No, Matt,’ she ordered. ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Leave my wife alone,’ Matt said. ‘She doesn’t want to see you.’

  ‘Who the fuck d’you think you’re talkin’ to?’ Tony raged.

  ‘You,’ Matt responded. ‘And you’d better take notice.’

  ‘Or what?’ Tony jeered.

  ‘Or you’ll regret it.’

  ‘Are you threatening me?’ Tony said. ‘You got any idea what happens to people who threaten me?’

  ‘Tony,’ Lola said, becoming alarmed, because Matt had no idea what kind of man he was dealing with, ‘please don’t.’

  ‘Don’t what, Lola?’ Tony said, playing with her. ‘Don’t tell this dumb prick about our life together? About how hot an’ steamy the sex is between us? Or how many times you’ve complained about the asshole you were married to? Now he’s standing here threatenin’ me. Jesus holy Christ! Go back to him, live your dull life, ’cause I’m outta here. An’, baby, don’t ever come beggin’ me to take you back again. This time it’s finito.’

  She watched him walk out, and later, on the evening news, she was horrified to see a report of Tyrell White’s mysterious death. He’d fallen from a nineteenth-floor hotel window. The newscaster called it a tragic suicide.

  Lola shuddered. Tony Alvarez was an extremely dangerous man.

  Linc informed Allegra she could not come to the set.

  ‘Why not?’ she demanded.

  ‘Because I don’t want you there. It’s distracting.’

  Allegra scowled. She was a woman used to getting her own way. Especially as she now considered herself Linc’s girlfriend.

  He didn’t know how it had happened.

  Well, yeah, actually he did. Sleeping with her was a start, and Freddy leaving town was a second.

  Allegra had no intention of going anywhere without her new movie-star boyfriend. She was into booze, drugs and other girls. In fact, she was into anything Linc wanted. When it came to drugs and drinking, she made him look like a Boy Scout.

  She had jet-black hair, slanted grey eyes and Slavic cheekbones. Her body was long and lean, her small breasts all nipples. If only she would keep her mouth shut and not talk so much, she’d be quite beautiful–in a tall, skinny supermodel way.

  However, Linc didn’t want a girlfriend. He wanted his wife back, by his side so that she could protect him like she always had. He felt his life spiralling out of control, and it wasn’t a good feeling.

  Sometimes he thought about Shelby. Drunk, he hated her guts. Sober, he loved her beyond reason.

  Most of the time he was totally out of it, barely able to remember his lines.

  Elliott Finerman was furious. The dailies were shit. Linc was looking worse every day, and Lola was merely going through the motions. When Elliott tried to talk to him, Linc told him to fuck off.

  Elliott Finerman could not believe the two stars he’d gotten stuck with: a dazed Lola Sanchez, and a stoned Linc Blackwood. A fine romantic comedy this was turning out to be.

  Linc had his routine down. First thing in the morning a couple of snorts of coke. For breakfast, two Bloody Marys. Lunch, more Bloody Marys and more coke. At night–whatever took his fancy.

  Occasionally he experienced a lucid moment or two when he realized he was running on empty. He knew it was bad. Very bad. But he was unable to stop his self-destructive behaviour.

  Unasked, Allegra had moved her stuff into his hotel suite. A few nights after she’d moved in, Linc experienced a horrific nightmare. He awoke screaming, his body bathed in a cold sweat.

  Allegra did not stir.

  He got out of bed, made his way into the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. Jesus! It was the same nightmare he’d experienced over and over again as a child. For years he’d suffered from vivid dreams, then one day they’d stopped. Now the nightmare was back.

  His hands were shaking as, once more, he pictured the scene. His father was a brutal man, but never as brutal as that particular night when he’d picked up a cast-iron frying-pan and smashed it across his wife’s face until she’d dropped to the ground covered in blood.

  After killing her, his father had calmly taken his gun and, in front of Linc and his sister, blown his brains all over the kitchen wall.

  The images were scorched into Linc’s mind for ever.

  Cat found there was no escape from Nick. Since she was directing him in a movie, they were constantly together. Making movies creates a very intimate situation, and Nick was always there–watching her, laughing with her, teasing her.

  Somehow it was becoming extremely comfortable being with him, and quite a kick to be working with someone who was totally on her wavelength. Nick got it. He was an instinctive actor with talent to spare. And on the screen he and Shelby were dynamite together.

  How did I get so lucky? Cat asked herself every morning when she got out of bed. How am I directing a big movie with two major stars? And they’re both a dream to work with.

  Nick was hot to take things further, while her thought was, why complicate matters? She might look like a total raver, but her raving days were in her wild child past. Now she was interested in a relationship
that meant something, not a few weeks’ stand with an admitted carouser.

  On the other hand, as Luanne had suggested, a revenge fuck was not completely out of the question–although she was fearful that if she slept with Nick, it might upset the delicate balance between actor and director.

  She decided to stick to her original decision and wait until the movie wrapped.

  The fix-up between Amy and Jonas couldn’t have gone better. They seemed to like each other. According to Amy, they’d even been out a few times, without the watchful eyes of Nick and Cat all over them.

  ‘Okay, so you’re right,’ Nick informed her. ‘Jonas is not gay.’

  ‘I told you,’ Cat responded.

  ‘Apparently he’s getting real cosy with Sis.’

  ‘Does that mean—’

  ‘Yeah, she’s into him.’

  Cat was happy for Jonas. Amy wasn’t a Hollywood starlet type, she was a smart girl with brains and a dry sense of humour, exactly the kind of girl Jonas needed.

  Nick had stopped inviting a parade of nubile girlfriends for lunch in his trailer. He now spent the lunch break with Cat, or he sat around with the crew swapping dirty jokes. Most nights they grabbed a plate of pasta or a burger, and went to bed early. Not together, although Nick refused to give up. ‘We gotta do the nasty,’ he kept on urging her. ‘This is turning into a freakin’ joke. I’m developing a relationship with my right hand I haven’t had since I was ten!’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you?’ she answered casually. ‘I’ve decided it’ll be your wrap present. How’s that?’

  ‘Hmm…’ he said. ‘How many weeks we got left?’

  ‘Not many,’ she said. ‘Think you can wait?’

  He grinned his irrepressible grin. ‘I suppose I can try.’

  ‘She did what?’ Lola shouted excitedly over the phone.

  ‘She moved a finger,’ Isabelle repeated.

  ‘That’s fantastic!’

  ‘Yes,’ Isabelle agreed. ‘The doctors say it’s an excellent sign, so perhaps she will come out of this coma, after all.’

  ‘I couldn’t be more thrilled,’ Lola said. ‘I only have two more days on the movie, then I’m on a plane. I’ll be able to sit by her bedside, sing to her, tell her stories. I’ve been reading so much about what to do for people in comas. We must be there for her every second. You understand that, don’t you?’

 

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