Scandalous Lies: An addictive, sexy beach read

by Nigel May

  ‘And I shall see what Nova is saying to Juanita. She puts that poor cleaner though hell,’ said Jacob, leaving the kitchen.

  Georgia plugged in her machine and clicked on her email icon. She opened a blank email, typed an address into the bar at the top of the page and then composed her message.

  ‘Mind if I pop round tomorrow morning? Have something to discuss. Gx’

  She pressed the send button. As she did so, Charlie’s sleepy voice came from the TV room. ‘Georgia, you there?’

  ‘I’m in the kitchen,’ she shouted back.

  ‘Can I have a glass of water? I’m thirsty.’

  Georgia smiled to herself. Charlie may have been one of the most masculine men she had ever met but there were times when he reverted to being a child. And when he had just woken up was normally one of them.

  ‘Sure.’

  Georgia went to the fridge and filled a glass with ice cold water. She took it through to Charlie, who was still bleary-eyed on the sofa. ‘Why don’t you go to bed? It’s been a long day and you have to be up pretty early for your mother to take you to hospital. You would think you’ve been fighting on the front line the way she carries on. But it’s only because she cares.’

  She watched Charlie stumble sleepily from the sofa, kiss her fully on the lips and toddle out of the room.

  ‘I’ll be with you in a moment,’ she called after him. ‘I’m just going to check something on the computer.’

  Georgia wandered back to the kitchen and opened a new page on her computer. Firstly, she checked the weather, a habit that came with the territory of her job. Secondly, she typed the words ‘Evie Merchant charity shooting’ into the search bar. Hundreds of news reports from around the world popped up on her screen. She knew they would. A death at a charity event organised by a worldwide star like Evie did not happen every day. She scanned down the reports. Nova’s attendance was noted in many of them. That would please her. The name of the deceased, Jack Christie, featured on most of them too. Maybe it was the early editions that hadn’t known his name. A few of the later reports mentioned a friend of Jack’s, Andy North, who had handed himself into the police to aid their enquiries into the death of his friend. The suggestion was that the two of them were there to steal as much as possible. Enquiries were also being made as to why Jack was carrying a gun. There was definitely more to the evening than had first appeared. She knew it.

  Charlie’s injury featured on a lot of the reports too, as did mention of Georgia’s own attendance in a lot of the UK papers. The one thing that seemed to be missing from nearly all of them though was any mention of Mitzi. Occasionally the reason for the event was cursorily touched upon, but all talk of Mitzi’s ongoing disappearance was lost in a maelstrom of new page-filling headlines.

  The thought upset her. Georgia closed the internet pages and her email account and left the machine to charge overnight. She let out a yawn. She needed to sleep. She suspected she might need all of her energy when the sun came up over the Hollywood hills in the morning. As she snuggled up next to an already lightly snoring Charlie, she definitely felt that the peace spreading itself across the Chevalier Hollywood home that evening was merely the calm before the storm.

  Seventy-Nine

  ‘Will you shift that carcass of yours out of bed now, Charlie Cooper? We have a meeting with my surgeon in ninety minutes. He’s kindly fitting you into his busy schedule before he sets to work fixing the face of a talent show judge whose chins seems to be drooping a little more towards her décolletage than they did last season.’

  Charlie slowly opened his eyes, and then rapidly closed them again at the sight of his mother standing in the open bedroom doorway. ‘You are kidding me, mother. It’s only …’ Charlie opened one eye again to glance at the LCD clock on his bedside table. ‘… just before 8.30am.’

  Actually it was later than he’d imagined. He’d obviously been sleeping for almost ten hours. Back in the UK he would have already gone live to the nation with his showbiz updates and a few frothy interviews with heaven knows who by this time. Maybe it was the fact that for once he hadn’t had to set six alarms before going to bed, or maybe it was the fact that the combination of painkillers and jet lag had sent him into slumber cloud nine. Or maybe it was simply the warmth he was enjoying from Georgia wrapped around him, her soft feminine curves and alabaster smooth skin doing more to take his mind off his gunshot injury than any team of doctors could ever do.

  ‘There is no point in your mother knowing the best specialists in town if she can’t pull in a few favours now and again. The man is booked for months ahead, so out of that bed now Charlie Cooper and don’t make your mother tell you again.’ Nova was adamant.

  Charlie knew there was no point trying to disobey Nova’s wishes when she started talking about herself in the third person. It was a sign that she was on a mission that even Bear Grylls would find hard to trek his way out of.

  ‘Now, get showered, shampooed and shaved and I’ll meet you in the kitchen in fifteen minutes. We can’t be late.’

  Charlie looked down at his arm. Having removed the bandage the night before to let the wound breathe, he surveyed the damage. As he’d known all along, thanks to good fortune and a dodgy aim, the bullet had merely grazed his flesh.

  ‘It does not need a plastic surgeon, mother. The man will laugh us out of the hospital. It’s embarrassing,’ shouted Charlie as Nova disappeared out of sight, banging the door behind her.

  She shouted back through the door, determined to have the last word. ‘Embarrassing? I think not. He’s dealing with a baseball star who wants his ding-a-ling lengthened straight after you as apparently he’s not giving his wife much satisfaction in the slam dunk department, if you get my drift. Now that’s embarrassing, so move it! The doc’s fitting you in as a major favour to me.’

  Nova smiled to herself as she walked back to the kitchen. It was one of the things she loved about Hollywood. Money talked. She’d had to bribe the surgeon to see Charlie at such short notice. But when you’re on very good terms with all of the best plastic surgeons in the state, it was amazing what the promise of highlighting one in particular on the next series of Super Nova and booking herself in for a procedure could do. He’d have his own reality TV show before you could say ‘implants’. Maybe she could persuade Jacob’s team to produce it. Mind you, Jacob always made his own decisions, she knew that.

  ‘I suppose you heard all that,’ said Charlie, turning to face Georgia. Her eyes were still closed.

  ‘Every last word.’ Her eyes stayed shut.

  ‘Looks like I’d better move. Don’t want to keep doctor waiting.’

  ‘Hang on, cowboy,’ said Georgia finally opening her huge, inviting eyes. She never grew tired of Charlie’s face being the first thing she saw in the morning. She wished it were every day. He had that wonderful knack of being able to wake up looking just as deliciously sexy as he had when he’d climbed into bed the night before. Dishevelled was not in his repertoire.

  ‘Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?’ Charlie grinned expectantly.

  ‘Did your mother just say that some basketball player had something wrong with his dick?’

  ‘She did.’

  ‘Well, there’s nothing wrong with yours.’ Georgia reached her hand under the sheets and placed them around the thick girth of Charlie’s erect member. It wasn’t just matinee idol looks that Charlie woke up with every morning.

  ‘No, that seems to be in mighty fine order,’ he remarked, raising his eyebrows as he spoke. ‘It must be the company.’

  ‘So how about a little slam dunk of our own? I don’t think Nova will mind, do you?’

  Georgia guided his throbbing rod of flesh into her, the sexual dew between her legs revealing her eagerness to accept. As Charlie began to thrust into her, she let out a gasp of excitement. She needed to feel him close to her, as close as they could physically be. Even though her mind was racing with thoughts of what the day ahead would bring, she needed to savour this mo
ment, to feel the warmth of Charlie against her. To momentarily let go of all fear and dread and just immerse in a sea of pleasure with the man she loved.

  The love-making was urgent and silent, the thought of Nova and Jacob being potentially within earshot adding an extra wave of hypnotic frenzy to their carnal thrill-seeking.

  They came together, their bodies working in unison.

  As Charlie exited the bed to head to the en-suite, he turned to face Georgia.

  ‘I love you so much, you know that don’t you?’ he smiled.

  ‘I do,’ said Georgia. She let out a snigger. ‘But if you ever call that a ding-a-ling.’ She pointed to his cock which was still twitching with post-coital delight between his legs. ‘I swear I may have to reconsider. Who calls it that in this day and age?’

  ‘Charlie, are you dressed yet? The car will be ready in five minutes. We will not be late.’ Nova’s voice boomed through the house at a volume a squadron leader would envy.

  ‘She does,’ laughed Charlie.

  Eighty

  ‘Bit showy for a trip to the hospital, isn’t it?’ laughed Georgia as she watched the Rolls Royce through the kitchen window. She kept looking until its splendour had pulled out onto the road via the open gates at the front of the Chevalier estate and disappeared out of view.

  ‘Another little insight into Nova’s world,’ smirked Jacob, ‘This is not just a trip to the hospital for her and Charlie. This is a pap opportunity to show that she is looking after her dear son in the …’ He paused to think. ‘How will the magazines play it? I imagine they will call it the post-traumatic stress she must be feeling after the utter horror of seeing her only son gunned down in front of her at the biggest showbiz event London has ever seen. Something along those lines. She cares passionately about Charlie as her only son, but she wants the papers to know that too. Hence the Rolls and the fact she’s dressed up as if she were going out to be interviewed by someone on Fashion Police.’

  ‘But Charlie hates being in the papers, especially if he’s off duty.’

  ‘Charlie is all Nova has to play doting mother to. It’s not like she has a big brood like Kris Jenner. So I think we can forgive her, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course. I just can’t imagine me ever popping down to St George’s Hospital in Tooting in the same manner. I’m more of a black cab or bus kinda girl.’

  ‘Nova on a bus? There’s more chance of Nova being voted next year’s Miss Natural Beauty than there is of that happening. And where the hell is Tooting?’

  ‘Never mind,’ said Georgia, not really that keen to start unravelling the geography of south west London with Jacob. Besides she had urgent plans, which is why she hadn’t accompanied Nova and Charlie to the hospital. ‘Right, I’m off, I’ll see you later. Nova said it was okay for me to borrow one of the cars.’

  ‘Going anywhere nice?’ asked Jacob.

  ‘I’ll tell you when I come back.’ Georgia let out a sigh of relief as she left the room.

  Georgia knocked on the apartment door. Actually this was more of a house, much bigger than she’d expected. Maybe it was separate flats but the one door and solitary bell suggested that the three story house was a single property.

  It had taken her the best part of an hour to drive to the upscale suburb of Los Angeles she found herself in, the place where she hoped to find some answers to the questions that had been pulling at her brain ever since Evie’s event. She rang the bell.

  Georgia looked at her watch. 10.30am. As arranged in a reply to her email. She could feel her heart pounding within her chest as she knocked, thinking that maybe the bell was out of action. The beat of her heart and the loud crack of her knuckles against the wooden door seem to synchronise together. She could feel her lips becoming dry as she waited for another thirty seconds or so. She prayed that this wasn’t a wasted journey. It was too important. Just how important she wasn’t sure, but it was definitely something she needed to do.

  She knocked again. After what seemed like an eternity, finally the door opened.

  The person who answered spoke. ‘Hey girlfriend, great to see you. I was thinking we could head out for brunch. There’s a fabulous little diner not far from here that serves up the most exquisite pancakes. And the mall just beyond that is fabulous for shopping. We can take my car.’

  Georgia turned to look at the car she’d parked next to on the driveway. It was a sporty little Audi TT Coupé. It looked brand new and must have been of similar value to the car she herself had borrowed from Nova and Jacob that morning.

  ‘Nice car,’ remarked Georgia. ‘Nice house too. You live here alone?’

  ‘Right now I sure do. I’ve had a few roommates but at the moment it’s just me. I’ll get my bag.’

  ‘Can I just come in and use your bathroom? And I could really do with some water if that’s possible. I’m a bit hoarse. I’ve been singing my lungs out to ‘Uptown Funk’ on the way over. Great tune.’

  ‘Banging! Sure, come on in. I’ll grab you some water.’

  As Georgia walked into the house and was pointed in the direction of the nearest bathroom she could feel goose bumps forming on her skin.

  ‘I’ll go fetch that water, Georgia.’

  ‘Thanks, Sarah, I appreciate it.’ She smiled weakly, her mind ablaze with questions about how a production assistant working on a show like Super Nova could afford such a fabulous house and car.

  Georgia spent a few minutes in the bathroom. She hadn’t needed to use it. It had merely been an excuse to come inside the house, but a tower of newspapers and magazines piled up in the corner of the room grabbed her attention. Her mind racing, she flicked through them. They were all different and none of them that current, but they all seemed to feature stories about the disappearance of Foster and Mitzi and the subsequent discovery of Foster’s dead body. The goose bumps that Georgia was already experiencing seemed to grow as she gazed at the stories. A cold chill lapped across her body, like a wave breaking on the shore.

  She let out a deep breath, checked herself in the mirror, looked at her phone and vacated the bathroom. It was time for action. She found Sarah in a large sitting area, decorated in the height of expensive taste. She was sitting on one of two large leather sofas that dominated the room.

  ‘You took your time,’ half-joked Sarah, seemingly a little perturbed that she’d had to wait longer than she’d expected. ‘Those pancakes are waiting.’

  ‘Do you mind if we skip the food? I’m feeling a touch nauseous,’ lied Georgia. ‘It must have been something I ate this morning. That’s why I was a little longer just now.’

  ‘You need some Dramamine? I have some in the kitchen if you want?’

  Georgia neither knew nor cared what Dramamine was and declined the offer.

  She sat down on the opposite sofa. ‘Sarah, I need to speak to you.’

  ‘Sure, what’s up? After that mighty fine chat we had on the plane coming back here, you know you can ask me whatever you like.’

  It was true, the two women had discussed everything on the flight back to the States; Georgia had been keen to learn more about Sarah. That was why she’d deliberately seated herself next to her and requested that Jacob move the entire party of eight to first class. She needed to find out about her. Boyfriends, ambitions, background, her take on Mitzi’s disappearance, it had all come up in conversation. Hadn’t Sarah said that her folks were poor farming folk from one of the southern states of America? Unless one year’s harvest had been particularly resplendent and bagged a fortune, Georgia wasn’t aware that the offspring of poor farming folk could afford such luxuries as the house they were seated in.

  But there were two sides to every story. Staring across at Sarah, Georgia thought to herself, I have to bite the bullet and do this. The word bullet bounced around her head, overly apt for what she was about to say.

  ‘Why did you kill that man at Evie’s party, Sarah? I saw you shoot him. And fire at Charlie.’ All moisture drained from her mouth as she spoke, the fear within h
er absorbing her ability to talk.

  Any friendliness that Sarah had portrayed at seeing her supposed new pal wiped from her face at Georgia’s words.

  It wasn’t just bullets that could kill, it was looks too, and the one that Sarah was giving Georgia meant that the weather girl was in the deepest trouble.

  Eighty-One

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re mistaken.’ But the look on Sarah’s face told her that she was not.

  Trying to keep her cool, Georgia continued. ‘I saw you. It was a dim light in that hall but I know what I saw. I was watching Mitzi on the screen, just like everybody else, and it hurt to watch, to see her in action, so alive and beautiful when she could already be dead. She could have died weeks ago just like Foster. It hurt so much that I turned away from the screen just for a split second. And I saw you, trying to hide yourself behind a pillar, trying to be discreet, but I know what I saw. You took your gun and fired two shots. One that murdered that man, Jack Christie, and one that nearly killed Charlie.’ Georgia could hear the trembling coat of fear that cocooned her voice as she unlaced the tale of what she’d seen.

  ‘So why didn’t you say anything? Tell the police what you saw. Why the secrecy?’ Sarah’s southern drawl wasn’t coated with fear, it was coated with an iciness that nothing could chip at. Hard and calculated. If she was scared then she wasn’t showing it.

  ‘Because there’s more to it than meets the eye. Why would you, somebody who doesn’t appear to know the man you killed, risk everything you have to shoot him in front of a crowd of people?’ She circled her finger at the house they were sitting in and added, ‘risk all this?

  ‘Did you know Jack Christie? He’s nothing to do with Super Nova, is he? What’s the connection between a London criminal and an LA-based production assistant from a deep south farming family?’