“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” Faye growled. “This is a real kiss. And it’s not good publicity, especially after last weekend’s press.”
“I thought all publicity was good publicity,” Lola said, tongue in cheek. “Y’know, as long as they spell my name right.”
“May I remind you that you’re supposed to be getting a divorce,” Faye said. “First you’re caught with Tony Alvarez, now it’s Linc Blackwood. This kind of publicity makes you look like a tramp.”
“I think it enhances my reputation,” Lola said.
“What reputation?” Faye responded sourly.
“Aren’t I the Latina sex bomb that every man wants to sleep with?” she said with a knowing laugh. Big Jay knocked on the door. “Come in,” she called. He entered the room and handed her the papers. “I’m looking at the photos now, Faye. I’ll get back to you.”
“Do that,” Faye said in her smoke-enhanced voice. “The press are driving me crazy for a statement.”
“Tell them this; Linc Blackwood and I are merely co-stars. We were discussing our script.”
“I’m sure they’ll believe that,” Faye said curtly, and hung up.
Lola checked out the papers. There she was on the front page of both of them. The Daily News ran a headline that screamed, LA LOLA! DOES IT AGAIN! The Post’s headline was LOLA AND LINC TOGETHER? WHERE’S SHELBY?
She studied the pictures. The kiss worked perfectly. Linc’s eyes were closed; the man certainly looked like he was having a fine time.
She wondered how he’d feel when he got an eyeful of these photos. Not too happy.
Ha! His wife had some innocent picture in People, and here he was on the front page of the Post and the Daily News, kissing Lola Sanchez. She didn’t give his marriage much chance.
Mission accomplished.
So why didn’t she feel better about it?
Because he’d been too easy, that’s why. Where was the satisfaction in bringing down a guy who was obviously a total screwup?
It was all his wife’s fault. He was pissed about her movie, pissed about her brilliant reviews, and pissed that her photo was in a magazine with another man. That’s why he’d turned into a falling-down drunk.
He certainly wasn’t the man he’d been six years ago. The macho movie star stud she would’ve done anything for. The man who’d obliterated her chances of ever giving birth.
Maybe Shelby Cheney didn’t want to stay married to Linc Blackwood; that was a thought.
The phone rang again. This time it was Tony. “Hey, baby,” he crooned, sending shivers down her spine.
The sound of his voice made her realize how much she missed him. “When are you coming back?” was her first question.
“Not soon enough” he said calmly. “I guess you’ve seen the New York papers?”
“Yes, I know, it’s so ridiculous, Tony. There were ten other people with us. Linc was drunk, he grabbed me outside the restaurant, and that’s what ends up in the papers. You know how those things go.”
“Shit happens, baby,” he said, not sounding at all upset.
“You’re not mad?”
“Why should I be? I had a girl here.”
“You did?” she said, shocked.
“Yeah, It wasn’t happenin’ for me, so I put her on a plane back to L.A.”
“What girl?” Lola asked, suddenly furious.
“The foxy chick I was about t’ get engaged to when you came runnin’ back.”
Now she was totally outraged. “Are you telling me she was in New Orleans with you?”
“Sure, baby.”
“You left my bed to fly to New Orleans to be with some puta?” Lola yelled, stunned that he would do that. “I can’t believe you’d be with another woman.”
“So you’re sayin’ it’s fine for your photo to be all over the papers with another man? But me—I gotta keep it down, huh?”
“I explained to you what that was all about.”
“This our first fight, baby?” Tony said, laughing. “ ’Cause if it is, I think it’s turnin’ me on.”
“Get your ass back here,” she said, quickly backing down. “I’m working this afternoon, but tonight I’m all yours.”
“An’ that’s exactly the way it should be,” said Mr. Sure of Himself.
• • •
Linc didn’t remember a thing, not one fucking thing. He staggered off the bed, fully dressed, red-eyed and sick to his stomach. He just about made it into the bathroom, where he caught sight of himself in the mirror. As usual, after a major bender he looked like crap.
Drinking fucked up his mind, his body, and his soul.
Christ! What happened last night? As far as he could recall, he’d taken Lola to Mario’s, Mama Mario had been all over him, and that was it. The rest was a blank. He couldn’t remember a goddamn thing.
Blackouts were dangerous shit.
It was all because of Shelby and the stupid photo of her in a magazine with some asshole she’d gone out with years ago. Why had that upset him so much?
Because the asshole was Pete, that’s why. And Pete was desperate to fuck with him.
He made his way into the living room and picked up the call sheet from the desk. One o’clock. By one o’clock he had to be looking human. Yeah, lots of luck.
What time was Shelby arriving from L.A.? He’d forgotten. Maybe five or six, something like that.
He spied an empty bottle of scotch and a dirty glass. He called maid service and ordered them to send somebody in to clean up. Then he forced himself back into the bathroom and stood under a cold shower for ten minutes.
By the time he emerged, he was ready for his first snort of coke.
Getting high meant he’d feel better, and it sure beat the hell out of drinking.
No more drinking.
Carefully he laid out the white powder and snorted a couple of lines. Without warning his nose started to bleed. He hurried into the bathroom and grabbed a damp washcloth, holding it to his nose.
Jesus Christ! What was happening to him? He was falling to pieces.
As soon as the bleeding stopped, he paged his dealer and told him to come right over. Then he called room service and ordered eggs, bacon, and a Bloody Mary to take away the fuzziness.
A half hour later the room service waiter delivered breakfast.
The sight of food made his stomach turn; the only thing he could manage to get down was the Bloody Mary.
Soon after that his dealer arrived, a smarmy real estate agent with a know-it-all attitude. Linc wanted him in and out, but the man always attempted to stay around and talk. Unfortunately, he had to deal with him personally; it was safer that way.
They exchanged pleasantries, money, and coke, and after the guy left, Linc went into the bedroom and lay on top of the bed until it was time to leave for the studio.
Lola greeted him in the makeup trailer. “You’re late,” she said in her low-down, throaty voice. “And Tony is pissed about our photo.”
“What photo?” he said, not in the mood for light conversation.
“You haven’t seen the newspapers?” she said, drawing him over to a corner where they couldn’t be overheard.
“No, I haven’t seen the goddamn newspapers,” he growled. “What’s the deal?”
“I’ve no idea who alerted the photographers, but they were there when we left the restaurant last night. And let me remind you—you were feeling no pain. You pulled me into a clinch in front of them.” A long beat. “It upset me, Linc. That’s why I had Big Jay put you in a cab. You were impossible. I couldn’t deal with you.”
“You put me in a cab?” he said, hardly believing she would do such a thing.
“I had to.”
“Great! I was suffering from, some kind of twenty-four-hour flu, an’ you put me in a cab. Thanks a lot for caring.”
“It wasn’t the flu, Linc. You drank too much.”
“I hardly drink, Lola,” he said, stonefaced.
“Last night you did. T
ony’s furious about the photo; he’s threatening to beat you up.”
“I could throw Tony Alvarez in a grinder and make mincemeat out of him.”
“You can’t blame him. Tony’s a Latino man and I am his woman,”
“Jesus Christ!” Linc groaned, his head pounding.
Everything was going from bad to worse, and the last thing he felt like doing was acting. Light romantic comedy was not his genre. He wanted to get back to doing what he excelled at. Action adventure. At least in action movies he didn’t have to endure endless close-ups and turn on the charm.
“I’ll see you on the set,” Lola murmured.
Bitch! They were all bitches.
CHAPTER
* * *
26
Merrill Zandack was in a talkative mood. Shelby had hoped to have time to herself on the plane, but when the host washboard, conversation became a necessary occupation—one of the hazards of flying privately.
The moment she got on board, Merrill invited her to join him at the round table he always sat at. She could hardly refuse, in spite of the heavy cigar smoke swirling around him, which made her feel slightly sick. After takeoff, he handed her a stack of press reviews of her movie Rapture in a leather folder embossed with her name and the date. “Had ’em put together in case you haven’t seen them all,” he said.
“How thoughtful of you, Merrill,” she said, accepting the folder. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I know how most producers treat the actresses in their movies. Your P.R. shows you this, the studio shows you that. Problem is you never get to see everything. Read and learn.”
“Learn what?” she asked curiously.
“Learn that you’re at the peak of your career, the place every actor dreams about—the big one.”
“The big one?”
“Yeah. For Tom Cruise it was Risky Business. Julia Roberts—-Pretty Woman. For you it’s Rapture. From here on out, every other movie you make, you’ll have to live up to your performance in Rapture,”
“Wonderful,” she said dryly. “Why does that make me feel so depressed?”
“It’s not a bad thing, Shelby,” he said, indulging in a short coughing fit. “Caught is the right kind of movie for you to do now. Halle Berry followed Monster’s Ball with a Bond movie; now that was an excellent choice.”
“Are you saying that I can never live up to my performance in Rapture?”
“No, I’m sayin’ that you gotta take advantage of this time. You’re married to a famous man, you gotta make sure he doesn’t try to hold you down.”
“Linc would never do that,” she said confidently. “He encourages me.”
“You say that now: But I know what’s likely to happen.”
“You do?”
“There’s gonna be professional jealousy,” Merrill said, nodding to himself. “It’s only human nature.”
“Not between me and Linc”
“I’ve been in this business a long time, kiddo. When husband and wife are both actors, an’ one does better than the other, it always gets tricky.”
“Linc’s not at all-jealous of me.”
“He’s never had to deal with you being more successful than him.”
“I’m not,” she said, frowning.
“Wait until you get your nomination,” Merrill said, blowing a stream of acrid smoke into the cabin.
What nomination?” Shelby asked, perplexed.
“You heard it from me first. You’ll get nominated for Rapture, that’s a given.”
“It would certainly be a great honor; however, I’m not at all sure.”
“Wanna bet money on it?”
“I don’t bet, Merrill”
“Be smart—listen to what I’m telling, you. Watch out.”
“For what?”
“For Linc, goddamn’ it. He’s your biggest enemy right now. One way or the other he’ll try to sabotage you.”
She’d had enough. The last thing she needed to hear was Merrill Zandack’s view on her husband’s behavior.
“Will you excuse me, Merrill?” she said, getting up from the table. “I think I’ll try and take a nap. Do you mind?”
“Unhappy with what I’m saying, huh?” he said, his double chins bobbing up and down, “Can’t say I blame you.”
“It’s not that,” she said, making excuses. “I’m tired. I’ve had an incredibly busy week.”
“Read your reviews. It’ll make you feel better.”
“Thanks,” she said, moving to a seat as far away from him as possible.
• • •
After an early lunch at the Ivy at the Shore, Jonas seemed more like himself.
“You were very uptight last night,” Cat remarked, nibbling a chocolate chip cookie. “Did you have a problem?”
“No problem.”
“Maybe you miss being Merrill’s assistant,” she teased.
“That’s a given.”
“There’s no way you can go back to your old assistant job. After we wrap you must insist to Merrill that he put you on all his future movies.”
“You think he’d do that?” Jonas asked tentatively.
“Why not? After all, I’m sure he calls you twice a day to check up on me. Am I right?”
“Of course he does.”
“And what do you tell him?”
“That you’re a genius.”
“Thanks,” she said, with a mischievous grin. “Exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“Did you speak to Jump this morning?”
“Yeah, his latest threat is to throw all my stuff out onto the street.”
“What’re you doing about that?”
“A few months ago my girlfriend Luanne was staying at our loft with her baby. I’ll call her, ask her to do me a favor and pack up my stuff.”
“Sounds like an idea.”
“I guarantee Jump’ll claim all our CDs and books, which is a drag ’cause! bought most of them.”
“Perhaps you’ve heard of Tower Records and Book Soup?” he said offhandedly. “Not to mention Amazon?”
“You’re so practical, Jonas. That’s what I like about you.”
“So now it’s my practicality you like?”
“Nothing wrong with being practical.” she said, taking another chocolate chip cookie. “Now, all we’ve got to do is find you a girlfriend, ’cause all work and no play—”
“You can talk,” he interrupted.
“I’ve no time for a guy.”
“That makes two of us.”
“What? You’ve no time for a guy either?”
“She’s such a joker.”
“I try to keep it real.” she said signaling for the check.
They left the restaurant and drove to the location early. Cat stood around conferring with some of her crew who were already there. Then she went into her trailer and continued working on her storyboards.
After a while there was a knock, and Nick put his head around the door. “Hey,” he said, all tousled hair and cocky. grin, : cigarette glued to his bottom lip. “Didja enjoy yourself last night?”
“You’ve got some interesting friends.” she offered.
“Yeah, I do, don’t I? We all moved to L.A. at the same time. I was the one who got lucky, which means that right now I’m the one pickin’ up everyone’s tab. The second they make it, it’ll be their turn.”
“Sounds fair.”
“What didja think of the girls?”
“Lovely,” she said, vaguely sarcastic. “Which one got unlucky? Oops, sorry! I mean lucky.”
“Both of them,” he boasted.
“Did you have enough to go round?”
“Seems like you haven’t heard about my reputation,” he said with a knowing wink.
“Is it as big as you seem to think it is?” she retorted.
“Wanna find out?”
“No thanks.”
He chain-lit another cigarette. “How long you and your old man been split?”
“Not that long. Why?�
�
“You caught him with another girl, right?”
“I’m not sharing the details.”
“You gotta be feeling way horny.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, you must be feeling horny.”
“Y’know what, Nick?” she said impatiently. “I’m trying to work here.”
“Got it,” he said with another jaunty wink. “See you on the set.”
• • •
Somehow Shelby harbored a romantic fantasy that Linc would be at the airport to meet her. Unfortunately, her romantic fantasy was exactly that—a fantasy. There was no Linc. Instead there was a car and driver who delivered her to the hotel.
Flying always made her anxious; she was tired, and hoped that Linc had not made any plans for that evening.
The manager of the hotel was waiting in the lobby to greet her, “We are delighted you will be staying with us this weekend, Ms. Cheney.”
“Please call me Mrs. Blackwood,” she said as he helped her with her hand luggage.
“Certainly, Mrs. Blackwood. Your husband is enjoying his stay with us. I hope you will too. We do our best to please.”
“I’m sure you do,”
“If you’re. ready, I’ll escort you up to Mr. Blackwood’s suite.”
The suite was large and luxurious. Linc wasn’t there; he was probably still working. Shelby didn’t mind because she wanted to take a shower and freshen up before she saw him.
A knock on the door brought a bellboy with flowers and a huge basket of fruit.
For a moment she thought the flowers, were from Linc, but the note accompanying them was a. welcome gesture from the producer of Rapture.
She tipped the bellboy and began to unpack. When she’d finished, she took a shower and put on a simple white dress, one of Linc’s favorites.
For a moment she thought about calling his cell phone, then decided not to bug him. When Linc was working, he hated being disturbed.
He’d be there soon enough, and she’d be waiting.
• • •
“I’m coming right up,” Tony announced.
“I thought we were on our way out,” Lola responded, “I’m all dressed and ready.”
“No, I wanna come up,” Tony said insistently.
Hollywood Divorces Page 26