‘How many everyone elses are there?’ Cindi asked, a touch belligerent.
‘Eight of you. You’ll all be shakin’ and shimmyin’ in the background while Slick Jimmy raps his down-an’-dirty heart out. So you’ll be showin’ some skin–you flaunt more than that on the beach.’
‘Not me,’ Cindi said sourly. ‘I wear a one-piece.’
‘You in or out?’ Fantasia inquired, suddenly impatient. ‘Make up your mind, ’cause I got other girls to fit.’
‘Crap!’ Cindi grumbled. ‘I thought I was gonna be wearin’ somethin’, y’ know, all kinda sexy.’ She glanced at Liberty. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s not exactly dignified, but it is a paid job, and we could use the extra money…’
‘Hmm…It’s plenty more than I get workin’ in the coffee shop,’ Cindi mused. ‘An’ it’s not like I’m shy.’
‘Do it,’ Liberty encouraged. ‘It’s a trip.’
Cindi put on the skimpy outfit. It failed to contain all of her ample curves. Her breasts were barely covered, while her ass hung cheekily out of the hot pants.
‘We’re gonna have to do alterations,’ Fantasia said, all business. ‘I’ll bring it to the set tomorrow.’
‘Does that mean you’re finished with me?’
‘For now. We’ll see you at the shoot.’
‘Let’s go get coffee,’ Liberty suggested.
‘You mean have someone serve us?’ Cindi giggled, quite excited.
‘Why not? We’re paying.’
‘And we’ll leave ’em a big fat tip,’ Cindi said, ‘’Cause I am makin’ money! An’ you are comin’ with me, girl. I am not doin’ it alone. No freakin’ way.’
They linked arms and walked down the street, heading into an unfamiliar coffee shop.
‘I hope you remembered to feed my Ragtags,’ Liberty said, sliding onto a counter stool.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Cindi said, immediately reaching for a menu.
‘Was Damon in today?’ Liberty asked, trying to make it casual.
‘He was,’ Cindi replied, studying the menu.
‘Um…did he ask why I wasn’t around?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Cindi said sarcastically. ‘The first thing the dude does when he comes in is say, “Where’s that hot bitch who always serves me my coffee an’ eggs? I notice her every day, but I ain’t bin talkin’ to her ’cause I’m a married man.”’
‘Very funny, Cindi.’
‘I served him today, an’ if it’s any consolation he didn’t talk to me either.’
‘That’s ’cause you were too busy scoring yourself a gig with those other two guys.’
They both laughed.
‘At least the video’ll be somethin’ different,’ Cindi said.
‘It’s all good,’ Liberty agreed. ‘We gotta make the most of every single moment.’
‘Right on, sister.’
And they high-fived each other, grinned, and suddenly Liberty didn’t feel so bad.
Chapter Nineteen
‘You look tired,’ Max remarked as Amy joined him and Lulu in the tea room of the Peninsula’.
‘Yes, Daddy, Amy’s tired! Tired! Tired,’ Lulu sing-songed happily, grabbing for the Hello Kitty bag Amy carried.
Amy resisted handing it over. Lulu immediately began to whine: ‘It’s mine! Mine! Mine! My present. Gimme my present. I want it!’
‘I want never gets,’ Amy said sternly. ‘Try saying “please”, Lulu. Then you can have it.’
Lulu promptly burst into tears. ‘Amy’s being mean,’ she cried. ‘Mean! Mean! Mean! I hate Amy!’
‘Stop it!’ Max said sternly. With everything else that was going on, he was hardly in the mood to deal with a crying child. ‘And never use the word “hate”–it’s a bad, bad word.’
‘Mommy says it about you,’ Lulu answered slyly. ‘I’ve heard her.’
‘Give Lulu the bag,’ Max said, turning to Amy. ‘I can’t handle a meltdown.’
‘When she says “please”,’ Amy countered, determined not to stand down. It was important that Lulu got used to some ground rules. Obviously her mother allowed her to get away with anything.
‘What?’ Max said irritably.
‘She’s five, Max. She can say “please”.’
‘No, Lulu can’t,’ Lulu said, a malevolent gleam in her eyes. ‘Can’t! Can’t! Can’t!’
Max snatched the bag out of Amy’s hand and handed it to Lulu. This made Amy furious. She was marrying this man, which meant that she was inheriting his daughter, and if he was going to condone this child’s rude behaviour, she was not happy. ‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ she said to Max.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ he said, attempting to steer the conversation away from Lulu. ‘You’re tired and irritable.’
‘No,’ Amy countered. ‘You’re the one who’s tired and irritable.’
‘I have a lot on my mind, Amy. A lot on my mind. More than you know.’
‘Then why don’t you tell me about it? Maybe I can help.’
‘I can’t now,’ he said curtly. ‘I’ve got to take Lulu home and then I have to get ready for this thing tonight, which I am not looking forward to.’
‘Can you please tell me why you’re doing something you don’t want to?’ she said, wishing he would be more open with her.
‘Because I have to,’ he said shortly. ‘It’s business.’
‘Since when did a bachelor party become business?’ she persisted.
Lulu was busy opening the bag, taking out a Hello Kitty purse, a colouring book and a box of crayons. ‘I want more,’ she demanded shrilly.
‘Sorry, that’s it,’ Amy said shortly. ‘And a thank-you might be nice.’
‘Want more! More! More!’ Lulu shouted at the top of her voice.
People at other tables turned to stare.
‘Someone’s got to teach this child some manners,’ Amy said.
‘That’s not your job,’ Max replied.
‘When we’re married, will it be my job?’
‘When we’re married, your job is to make me happy.’
‘Really?’ she said, quite startled at his chauvinistic attitude. ‘And what will your job be?’
‘To make you happy, of course,’ he answered, realizing that Amy was not herself, and perhaps tea with Lulu hadn’t been such a good plan. The two of them needed more time to get to know each other. ‘Darling,’ he said, trying to sound understanding, ‘what is the matter with you?’
‘Nothing’s the matter with me. It’s you and Lulu. She’s behaving like a spoiled brat.’
‘Brat! Brat! Brat!’ Lulu shrieked. ‘Don’t like stupid present. Don’t like Amy. Gimme something else, Daddy. Lulu wants something else.’
Amy shook her head and turned to Max. ‘Please don’t ask me to buy her anything again.’
‘I think she had a difficult day at school,’ Max said, making excuses.
‘I had a difficult day at work,’ Amy retorted. ‘But I’m not chanting about hating people.’
‘Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,’ Max said, desperately trying to avoid a confrontation.
‘Do you want me to go?’ Amy asked, jutting out her chin.
‘No, of course not.’
‘It seems like you do.’
‘Sweetheart,’ he said, leaning over and taking her hand in his. ‘Let’s not get into a fight, please. I’ve had a lousy week, so why don’t we have a quiet dinner tomorrow night, just the two of us?’
‘I’m sure you’ll want to be quiet after your wild bachelor party,’ she said.
‘Do you have any idea how much I’m not looking forward to it?’ He groaned. ‘You know how bad they are. After all, you had to suffer through yours last night, didn’t you?’
‘It wasn’t any fun,’ she said, immediately feeling guilty.
‘They never are,’ he retaliated.
‘No, really,’ she said, almost panicking. ‘I couldn’t wait to get out of there.’
‘What kind of a show did
the girls put on for you?’ he inquired. ‘Naked firemen? A cop with a boom-box? Not male strippers, I hope.’
‘Oh, no,’ she said quickly. ‘Nothing like that. We just sat around talking and had a few drinks.’
‘You don’t drink,’ he pointed out.
‘I do sometimes. I drink champagne.’
‘That’s what I like about you, Amy. You’re different from other girls. You haven’t run around this city jumping into bed with every rich guy you see. You’re a beautiful, pure girl and that’s why I love you.’
‘Pure! Pure! Pure!’ Lulu chanted loudly, sneaking a sly, vindictive look at Amy.
‘I think I’ll go, Max,’ Amy said, deciding she couldn’t take a moment more of Lulu. ‘I’ve got a headache and you know my mother’s expecting me at the house for yet another meeting with the wedding planner. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘How about some tea before you run off?’
‘No, it’s better for you to enjoy your time with Lulu by yourself.’
‘If you’re sure.’
‘I am.’
‘Then I’ll call you tonight, the moment I get home.’
‘I’ll probably be asleep.’
‘I’ll call anyway. I’m sure you’ll be anxious to hear all about my evening from hell.’
‘It can wait until morning, Max,’ she said, rising.
‘Okay.’ He stood up and kissed her cheek. ‘I love you, Amy.’
‘You too,’ she found herself replying.
And she couldn’t help it, but her mind was filled with doubt.
Chris was in his hotel room about to take a shower when Birdy Marvel called. ‘Rocky totally gets the whole Vegas thing,’ she said. ‘We both do. Is it all arranged?’
‘I’m one phone call away from finalizing everything.’
‘Awesome! Rocky’s finding his divorce papers. We’re like so organized, you should be proud of me. We’re havin’ a celebration at Gatsby’s later–drop by.’
‘I’ll be at a bachelor night for my brother.’
‘The hot one?’
‘My other brother.’
‘You mean there’s three of you? All cute?’
‘You’re engaged, Birdy,’ he reminded her.
‘Can I come to the bachelor party?’
‘That’d cause a riot.’
‘I could give your brother a lap-dance,’ she teased. ‘’Specially if he looks like Jett.’
‘Y’ know, for an eighteen-year-old you sure are growing up fast.’
Birdy giggled. ‘Just f–ing with you, Chris. Come for a drink later, an’ don’t bring strippers. Oh, yeah, maybe do, ’cause I kinda get off on watching girls strut their goodies. Who knows?’ she added cheekily. ‘Maybe I could get me a lap dance.’
‘Birdy, Birdy,’ Chris sighed, ‘you’re incorrigible.’
‘Me?’ she said innocently.
‘Yes, you, and try to stay away from the paparazzi.’
‘Like I can do that,’ she snorted.
As soon as he hung up, the phone rang again. This time it was his L.A. girlfriend. ‘You’re not going to be happy, Chris,’ Verona said, in one of those voices that spelled doom.
‘Why not?’ he answered carefully.
‘It’s raining in L.A., and there’s dozens of leaks all over your house.’
‘Can’t the maid fix them?’
‘She can’t climb up on the roof and fix leaks.’
‘Then call the roofer. He can put tarps around everything until it stops.’
‘I’m not in charge of your house, Chris. I don’t live with you, remember? You left me the key, so I came over to check. If I lived here I could deal with it.’
‘Stop being pissy, Verona. You can deal with it if you want to.’
‘I can’t,’ she said stubbornly. ‘It’s not my responsibility.’
‘You can,’ he argued.
‘I suggest you have someone from your office take care of it,’ she said, copping an attitude.
He shook his head. This was unbelievable: sweet, gentle Verona was turning the screws so that he would invite her to move in, but he had no intention of doing so. Living with Holly Anton on and off for eighteen months had been an experience he never planned to repeat. He liked living alone. Was that such a terrible thing? Why did women always feel they had to chase after a commitment?
‘How bad is the rain?’ he asked.
‘It’s been pouring since you left. They’re sayin’ it won’t stop for at least another few days. Apparently it’s the biggest rainfall we’ve had in years.’
‘Can you at least call one of my assistants and tell them to deal with it?’
‘No, Chris, you call them, it’s not up to me.’
‘Thanks, Verona,’ he said shortly. ‘You’re a big help.’
‘No problem,’ she answered sweetly.
He took out his Palm and left himself a message. As soon as I get back to L.A. dump Verona.
Jett called Beverly’s answering-machine three times before she finally got back to him.
‘I told you–when I know something you’ll hear from me,’ she said, sounding pissed off.
‘Are you tellin’ me the whole day has gone past and you still haven’t found out who she is?’
‘I’m not a detective, Jett. The barman at Gatsby’s will know. He’ll be in after ten.’
‘You can reach me at my brother’s bachelor party. Call me if you find out anything.’
‘You’re really hung up on her, aren’t you?’
‘I am,’ he confessed. ‘She’s different, Bev, really different.’
‘When you do find her, I hope she’s worth the wait.’
‘That’s a given,’ he said confidently.
‘Gotta go,’ Beverly said. ‘I’m preparing my stuff for tomorrow.’
‘What’s happening tomorrow?’
‘Making up a bunch of fat girls for a hot new rap video. It’ll be fun. You should come by, visit the set.’
‘Maybe I will. But, Bev, do me a big favour and get me that number.’
After Amy had left, Max felt bad about the way he’d treated her. Naturally Lulu came first, but Amy was a close second. Yes, Lulu was spoiled, but she was only five, so her bad behaviour should be excusable.
He watched as his cute little daughter pushed a half-eaten cucumber sandwich around her plate and almost spilled a glass of milk. She was so pretty, and she had his eyes–he was sure she had his eyes.
‘Wanna go home, Daddy,’ she said, after a few minutes. ‘Lulu’s bored.’
‘Okay, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘Daddy’ll get the check.’
‘Wanna go now,’ she said, lower lip quivering. ‘I’m bored! Bored! Bored!’
‘Okay, Lulu, keep it down, we’re leaving.’
His car and driver were waiting outside. It was a short ride back to the penthouse where Lulu resided with her mother. He escorted his daughter upstairs. Mariska’s elderly personal maid, Russian-born Irena, answered the door. Max couldn’t stand her. The feeling was mutual.
‘Mrs Diamond around?’ he asked, entering the apartment.
‘She is,’ said Irena, glaring at him. ‘You wish see her?’
‘If she’s available. I’ll wait in the living room.’
‘’Bye, Daddy,’ Lulu said, with an angelic little smile, as her British nanny appeared to claim her. ‘See you soon! Soon! Soon!’ And she skipped off.
Max walked into the living room. Since their separation Mariska had made many decorating changes. Her style was certainly not his. She favoured ornate silver frames, old paintings of ancestors she’d never had, and an abundance of heavily embroidered cushions sitting on overstuffed couches. When they’d first moved into the apartment he’d had it decorated by a professional. Now it was a mish-mash of different styles, very unappealing.
He made his way over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a Scotch on the rocks.
Five minutes later Mariska came in. Obviously she had not been expecting him because her hai
r wasn’t in its usual groomed state and she was not fully dressed. ‘What do you want, Max?’ she asked, tightening the belt on her Chinese silk robe.
‘I need to talk to you,’ he said belligerently. ‘Is that all right?’
‘You should let me know in advance when you want to talk,’ she said bad-temperedly. ‘Most times you cannot wait to get out of here.’
‘Yes, well, today there’s something we must discuss,’ he said, taking a hefty swig of Scotch. ‘Incidentally, Lulu is behaving like a brat.’
‘She’s your brat as well as mine,’ Mariska said sharply. ‘So, if she’s behaving badly, it’s your fault.’
‘Why is it my fault?’ he asked, ready for an argument. ‘She doesn’t live with me.’
‘Are you accusing me of being a bad mother?’ Mariska demanded, challenging him to do battle.
‘No,’ he said, backing down. ‘I’m merely saying someone should teach her better manners.’
‘Oh, please,’ Mariska said dismissively. ‘She’s five.’
‘Anyway,’ Max said, ‘close the door. This is private. I don’t want your nosy maid listening in.’
‘I hope it’s about money,’ Mariska said, sitting down on the couch and crossing her legs. ‘I’ve been speaking with friends, and everyone tells me my settlement is not fair, especially as you’re about to marry that silly rich girl who’s far too young for you.’
‘Amy’s not too young for me,’ he said curtly. ‘And your settlement was plenty fair.’
Mariska threw him a condescending look. ‘I hear that tonight you’re having a bachelor party.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Not much goes on in this city that I don’t know about,’ she said smugly.
‘If that’s the case, Mariska, then you probably know about your ex–or should I say current husband, Vladimir Bushkin.’
The colour drained from Mariska’s face. ‘I–I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she stammered.
‘Yes, you do,’ he said. ‘And we should discuss what we’re going to do about Vladimir.’
‘Who is this Vladimir?’ she muttered, refusing to look at him.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, stop it,’ he snapped, tired of her games. ‘I know who he is. I’ve seen the official papers. He’s your legal husband, which means that you and I were never married.’ There was a long, stony silence. ‘Do you have any idea what this means?’ he said, glaring at her.
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