‘Moo-Moo sounds like a cow,’ Ashley snickered.
‘No, it doesn’t,’ Elise objected. ‘It’s an adorable nickname, isn’t it, children?’
‘Want to get Princess Barbie too,’ Aimee announced.
‘You’re stupid,’ Wolf said with a great deal of authority. ‘All girls are stupid idiots.’
‘Don’t be rude to your sister,’ Ashley scolded.
‘Yes, you heard your mother – mind your manners, young man,’ Elise interjected.
‘Manners! Manners! Manners!’ Aimee chanted, sticking her tongue out at Wolf, who retaliated by forming a spitball and sending it in her direction.
‘Oh my God!’ Ashley screamed. ‘The two of you are disgusting! Take them away, Mother. I can’t stand to look at them.’
‘We’re going for dinner at Nando’s,’ Elise said, unphased by the children’s bad behaviour. ‘The little ones love the chicken burgers there.’
‘Why’re they so dressed up?’ Taye asked, attempting to disentangle Aimee from his legs.
‘In case they’re photographed,’ Elise responded matter of factly. ‘You never know.’
‘They only get photographed when they’re out with us,’ Ashley pointed out.
‘Not so,’ Elise argued. ‘Celebrities’ children are quite the vogue. Gwen Stefani’s little ones are almost as famous as their mother. And Suri Cruise is simply everywhere.’
‘That’s in America,’ Ashley stated.
‘It’s starting here too,’ Elise said. ‘And I’m sure you want Aimee and Wolf to look their adorable best.’
‘Whatever,’ Ashley muttered, more interested in getting back to her packing.
‘Okay then,’ Taye said, finally freeing himself from his little daughter’s clutches. ‘We’ll see you all later.’
Elise threw him a meaningful stare.
‘What?’ Taye said, realizing she wanted something.
‘Money,’ Elise said. ‘For dinner.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Taye said, digging in his pocket and coming up with a crumpled wad of notes. ‘How much do you need?’
‘Stop being a cheapskate and give her the lot,’ Ashley said, anxious to get rid of them.
‘Sure, toots,’ Taye said, handing over a bundle of cash.
The family departed, and once more Taye found himself alone with his bad-tempered wife. He couldn’t wait to get the hell out of England and into sunnier climes. Maybe a change of scenery would put Ashley in a better mood.
A man could only hope.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Xuan did not need to be entertained. After their dinner at the neighbourhood bistro, she took off on her own every morning, not returning until late at night. When Flynn suggested another dinner, she demurred, saying that she was finishing up work on a thesis she was writing about women who become prostitutes and their reasons why. He had plenty of work of his own to complete before they took off, so he didn’t mind. Although he couldn’t help thinking that Xuan was a difficult woman to figure out. Even though he had thought he knew her, he soon realized that he actually didn’t know her at all. She was an enigma.
The Kasianenko plan was to meet up in Cabo San Lucas at the boat, so he was surprised to get a call from Aleksandr himself.
‘I have to stop in Paris for a meeting tomorrow,’ Aleksandr said briskly. ‘So we will pick you up and we will fly to Cabo together.’
It was as if they’d spoken yesterday instead of almost two years previously.
‘Sounds good,’ Flynn responded, pleased with the change of plan. It certainly beat getting on and off a series of planes to reach their destination.
‘I’ll have my people call with the arrangements,’ Aleksandr stated.
And that was that. Aleksandr was a man of few words.
Later Flynn told Xuan the new plan and she nodded. ‘Perhaps I can write a piece about this man with his big plane, his super-models and his enormous yacht,’ she said coolly. ‘Does he give back to the world, or is everything simply a prize for him?’
‘No writing anything,’ Flynn warned. ‘Aleksandr’s one of the good guys.’
‘How do you know that?’ Xuan asked with a sceptical expression.
‘Because I do,’ he retorted, experiencing doubts about whether inviting Xuan on this journey was such a smart thing to do.
‘I will judge for myself,’ Xuan said, her beautiful face turning quite inscrutable.
‘Don’t embarrass me,’ he told her. ‘Just remember that Aleksandr is my friend.’
‘You think I would embarrass you?’ Xuan said, amusement lighting her eyes.
‘If you could,’ Flynn said. ‘Only I’m sure you wouldn’t do that to me, would you?’
‘We’ll see,’ Xuan answered mysteriously.
Shit! he thought. I’ve made a mistake. She’s going to try to discredit him because he’s rich and powerful.
Then he thought, Well, at least it won’t be boring. Let the games begin.
That night he had dinner alone at his neighbourhood bistro, feasting on all his favourite foods.
Mai attended to his table, and after he was finished he invited her to sit with him while he drank his coffee.
Mai accepted his invitation, and they chatted for a while. She was beguiling and sweet in a very French way.
It occurred to him that he had the apartment to himself tonight, for Xuan had informed him she would be staying with a friend, and would not be back until morning, so against his better judgment he ended up asking Mai if she would care to join him for a drink.
She accepted, and they strolled the three streets to his place.
When they arrived he poured her a Pernod on the rocks, and they sat around sipping their drinks and talking politics – which surprised him, because Mai was far more knowledgeable than he’d expected.
Eventually they ended up in bed; somehow it was inevitable.
Being with Mai was not the experience he’d thought it would be. Mai was no spider-monkey girl, she was a gentle lover with a warm and welcoming body. She smelled of lavender and roses, while the Pernod on her breath added a tangy sharpness to their kisses.
He found himself making love to her with more feeling than he’d known in a long time.
She murmured that she’d been wanting to sleep with him ever since he’d first come into her family’s restaurant, but she’d felt that he wasn’t at all interested.
He was taken by her lilting accent, the way she touched the back of his neck, the smoothness of her hands. Mai was the first woman in a long time who was actually getting through to him.
And did he want that?
No.
Feelings only led to heartbreak.
Eventually they fell asleep, entwined in each other’s arms.
When he awoke at dawn, she was gone.
For a moment he was relieved, then upset. Had he not pleased her? Why would she walk out without so much as a goodbye?
Suddenly the realization struck him that he was actually experiencing real feelings.
It was a shocker.
* * *
Xuan arrived later in the morning carrying a shopping bag of warm baguettes, a jar of homemade jam, and a tub of thick creamy butter.
‘Breakfast,’ she announced, placing everything on the small kitchen counter. She paused for a moment and sniffed the air. ‘You had a woman here,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘Will she be joining us for breakfast?’
‘No,’ Flynn said evenly. ‘She will not. How did you know?’
‘Ah . . . I smell her fragrance in the air. And I notice the smile on your face.’
‘I’m not smiling.’
‘Enjoy it for once.’
‘I am not smiling,’ he insisted.
Xuan shrugged. ‘Too bad she isn’t here. However, that means all the more for us.’
Flynn nodded, his mind elsewhere.
‘Can you make coffee while I take a shower?’ Xuan asked. ‘I was out on the streets all night. It was worth it because I gathere
d some very interesting material.’
‘I’m sure you did,’ Flynn said, finding himself thinking that he wished he’d invited Mai on the trip as opposed to Xuan. He was already looking forward to seeing the French woman again, which was a positive sign that maybe he was finally ready for more than a two- or three-week stand.
‘It’s good that you’re happy,’ Xuan said. ‘This woman, she pleased you?’
‘None of your fucking business,’ Flynn replied, trying to suppress the stupid grin that seemed to bubble up from nowhere.
‘Ah yes,’ Xuan said with an all-knowing smile. ‘She pleased you.’
‘Are you packed and ready to go?’ Flynn asked, quickly changing the subject. ‘We’re supposed to meet Aleksandr at the Plaza Athenée at three. Then we’ll head straight onto the airport.’
‘Me? Packed?’ Xuan said with a gesture of surprise. ‘I never unpacked. Or didn’t you notice?’
‘Right.’
‘It’s nice to know that you can still summon up feelings,’ Xuan remarked. ‘Unfortunately for me, that is not possible.’
He didn’t need to ask why. Xuan had shared with him some of the horrors she’d experienced, and for her own peace of mind it was best not to dredge up the past.
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,’ he said, keeping it casual. ‘Let’s eat.’
‘Ah yes,’ Xuan said. ‘Making love always gives one a hearty appetite.’
‘Will you stop?’ he said, slathering butter on a baguette.
Xuan allowed herself another mysterious smile. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Only I so enjoy seeing you like this.’
‘Like what?’ he said, attempting a frown.
‘Vulnerable.’
‘Come on,’ he said, almost choking. ‘Let’s not get carried away.’
Yet he knew she was right. Maybe he was finally giving himself permission to move on.
And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Even though he was a major movie star, and had been for many years, Cliff Baxter did not own a plane. It wasn’t necessary, because whenever he wished to go anywhere there was always a studio plane available for his use. All he had to do was ask. So he did, and a company jet was on hand to fly him and Lori to Cabo San Lucas the following day. In the meantime he had his valet pack his clothes, and he had Enid come to his house to go over any last-minute business.
Enid was her usual cryptic self. ‘I hope and pray you’re not planning any surprises for me on this little jaunt you’re taking off on,’ she said, giving him a piercing look.
‘Now what kind of surprises did you have in mind, Enid?’ Cliff asked, his eyes crinkling.
One thing about Cliff Baxter, he had not succumbed to the Botox and plastic surgery some of the older male stars had dipped into. He was of the George Clooney/Clint Eastwood school. You are what you are, take it or leave it. But he did look fabulous for a man approaching fifty; he had just the right amount of lines and wrinkles, and only a fleck of grey in his lustrous head of hair. Not to forget the devastating smile that had women across the world swooning.
‘The marriage surprise,’ Enid said bluntly. ‘You know exactly what I mean.’
Cliff roared with laughter, only perhaps his laughter wouldn’t have been quite so hearty if he’d known that Lori was lurking outside the door to his study, listening to every word.
‘Are you kidding me?’ he said. ‘You better than anyone should know how I feel about marriage. Not for me. Nope. No marriage. No whiny kids. Not anytime soon or indeed ever.’
‘That’s a relief,’ Enid said, ‘because Lori is not for you – yet she seems to have stayed around longer than the others. I really don’t understand why.’
‘They stay because I want them to stay,’ Cliff stated. ‘They leave when it suits me.’
Enid could certainly believe that. ‘And this one?’ she asked.
‘Between us?’ Cliff said, giving her one of his serious looks.
‘No, Cliff,’ Enid said with a sarcastic edge. ‘I plan on selling everything you tell me to the tabloids.’
‘In that case, I should be truthful with you.’
‘Please do.’
‘Okay, here’s the scoop – the truth is that Lori’s sell-by date is almost up.’
Hovering in the hallway, Lori could not believe what she was hearing. Sell-by date. Fucking sell-by date. What did he think she was, a tub of yogurt on the supermarket shelf?
Bastard! Prick! How could he be so cavalier about their relationship? It hurt, it really hurt.
She stood there fighting back angry tears, suppressing a burning desire to march into the room and tell him exactly what she thought of him.
But forewarned was forearmed, and Lori began to formulate a plan.
* * *
Dinner was a casual affair at a mega-producer’s Bel Air mansion. Cliff and the producer had worked together on several movies and were planning a future franchise starring a renegade ex-cop detective – a character Cliff was dying to play. He spoke about the detective all the time as if he was a real person.
Lori was sick of hearing about his upcoming movie. If there wasn’t a role in it for her, why would she even be remotely interested?
The two men were friends from way back. They had a wish-list of leading ladies – everyone from Angelina Jolie to Scarlett Johansson.
‘What about me?’ Lori wanted to yell. ‘How about giving me a chance?’
Reality check. She knew that was not about to happen, especially now with her exit visa waiting to be stamped.
She wondered how Cliff would deal with getting rid of her. Perhaps he’d manufacture a big row – bad enough that she’d be forced to walk. Hmm . . . she was smart enough to realize that it takes two to make an argument work, and now that she was aware of the situation there was no way she’d play into that scenario.
Maybe he’d be brutally honest and simply tell her that it wasn’t working for him.
Did that mean a severance package? Money and an apartment?
She felt like calling a couple of his exes and checking out the deal.
Meanwhile, they were still going on the trip, so that was something. Could she salvage their relationship? It was possible.
‘You’re looking very girlish tonight,’ said the producer’s wife – a Hollywood social blonde with large over-plumped lips and an unsatisfied expression. ‘I simply adore your dress – Kitson’s?’
No. Target, Lori was tempted to reply. It cost me twenty-five bucks as opposed to the two hundred and twenty it would’ve been at Kitson’s. And that’s a conservative estimate.
‘The ruffles are such fun,’ Producer’s Wife continued. Then without taking a beat she added sotto voce, ‘How are things going between you and Cliff?’
Did she know something? Had Cliff confided in his producer friend?
All the wives were insanely jealous of her because they all secretly lusted after a piece of the famous Cliff Baxter cock. Only she was the one getting it and they weren’t.
Too bad, bitches.
‘Actually,’ Lori answered evenly, ‘things couldn’t be better. Cliff is such a sweetheart, so generous and thoughtful.’ A pause, then – ‘Why would you ask something like that?’
Producer’s Wife was flustered, but only for a moment. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘Cliff does have a reputation for moving on.’ A slight pause. ‘Of course we all love him dearly, and we’d like nothing better than to see him settle down, only you know that our Cliff is totally anti-marriage.’
Yes, I do know, bitch. Thank you for reminding me.
‘That’s why we’re so good together,’ Lori said sweetly. ‘’Cause I’m too young to even consider marriage. I plan on having a career first, marriage much, much later.’ Make sure you tell that to your horny balding husband so he can relay the message to my boyfriend.
‘Oh,’ Producer’s Wife said, pursing her wormy lips. ‘Then you are indeed the perfect girl for Cliff.’
Across the room, Cliff and the producer were discussing the advantages of shooting in New York as opposed to L.A. ‘Better tax breaks in New York,’ the producer proclaimed, adding with a ribald chuckle, ‘and better strip clubs.’
Cliff shook his head. ‘Can’t show my face at a strip club,’ he said. ‘It’d be all over the Internet the next day. Who needs that shit?’
‘Why should you care? You’re not married.’
‘It’s not right for my image. Besides, I have a girlfriend.’
The producer glanced across the room. ‘How’s it hangin’ with Lori?’ he asked. ‘Seems like she’s a keeper. She’s stayed around longer than most.’
Cliff nodded. His private life was all his, and only Enid was privy to certain information. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t reveal a little something. ‘Lori gives the best head I’ve ever had,’ he confided, knowing it would drive his friend crazy. ‘Better than a porn star any day.’
The producer’s mouth quivered slightly as he digested the information. It wasn’t enough that Cliff Baxter was a fucking matinée idol, and single too. Now he had a girlfriend who gave the greatest blow-jobs ever. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.
Later, the producer and his wife were getting ready to show a first-run movie in their private home theatre.
Cliff decided they wouldn’t stay. ‘We’re leaving early tomorrow,’ he explained, then winking at the producer he added, ‘Gotta take care of a couple of things before bed.’
The producer stared hungrily at Lori before moving in for a good-night hug, while the producer’s wife managed to kiss Cliff full on his lips.
In the Bentley on the way home, Cliff suggested to Lori that she might like to give him head while he was driving.
‘What if we’re pulled over?’ she asked, thinking of the consequences.
‘It’ll be worth it,’ he replied, obviously in the mood for his own particular style of lap dance.
Lori gritted her teeth and went to work, her head in his lap as he negotiated the winding roads of Bel Air, one hand on the steering wheel, the other making sure she stayed down.
The Power Trip Page 11