until Pia visited one day, marched into the room and said, "Okay,
enough. Time to get back to work. Samm says your job is waiting."
She shook her head. "No. Too many bad memories.
"You can't force her," Nature said, entering the room.
"Staying here doing nothing certainly won't help her," Pia said
sharply, not appreciating Nature's interference.
Lauren spoke up; after all, it was her they were discussing. "Pia's
right. It's time I found an apartment and another job."
"Jobs aren't so easy to find," Pia warned. "If you're smart you'll
come back to Samm's."
"I've got it!" Nature shrieked, joining in as usual. "I've bleedin'
got it!"
"What?" Lauren asked.
"You'll work for me! You can be my new assistant. It'll be a lot more
fun than sitting in an office picking up the bleedin' phone all day."
"I don't know," she said unsurely.
Nature was on a roll. "So now you don't ave to move out. It'll be
nice having you ere permanently-someone to talk to when I get ome.
"Yes, very nice," Pia interjected. "Don't do it, Lauren. You'll be on
call twenty-four hours a day."
"Well?" Nature said, flashing her big blue eyes.
Lauren shrugged, she had nothing else in mind. "Why not?"
Pia sighed. "You'll regret it."
"No, she bleedin' won't," snapped Nature.
And that was that.
Sometimes Lauren thought it was the best decision she'd ever made and
sometimes she thought it was the worst. Working for Nature filled her
days, and living in the same apartment filled her nights. If she'd
thought she had no life working at Samm's, she certainly had none at
all working for Nature, although it was never boring.
Nature did not lead a dull life. As her personal assistant she was
expected to do everything from collecting the dry cleaning to watering
the plants. She soon delegated to the maid the duties she had no wish
to do, and concentrated on getting Nature's life as organized as
possible-which was not easy, because Nature was a true gypsy and had
thrived on chaos for years.
"You're fantastic!" Nature said one day." Ow did I ever manage
without you?"
"Beats me," she replied dryly, thinking was this her lot in life-to be
the girl nobody could manage without?
Nature had aspirations to an acting career. "Can't be a model
forever," she confided. "I gotta grab all the opportunities I can."
"You're twenty-two," Lauren pointed out. "What's your hurry?"
"I won't look like this for long. Once the lines start appening an' I
get a bit of sag here and there, it'll be over."
"You're crazy," Lauren said. "You've got another twenty years of
looking great."
Nature shook her head. "Twenty years? You must be jokin'! All those
little sixteen-year-olds sneakin' up behind, sniffin' at me heels,
wantin' what I got. This modeling lark ein't easy."
Lauren realized it was true-modeling was not easy, and the most
successful girls worked hard to keep themselves at the top. Nature
never allowed herself to gain an extra pound. Every day-no matter how
early she had to get up-she worked out for a solid hour, pushing her
strength to the limit.
Emerson Burn arrived back in town from a world tour. Nature read about
it in the New York Post and immediately hatched a plot. She had Lauren
call his apartment.
"Tell im I wanna ave a dinner party for im.
"When?"
"Any night e likes. Now that e's dumped that stupid Selina cow I'm in
with a chance."
Lauren called and spoke to his personal assistant, who rudely informed
her Mr. Burn's social calendar was full.
She waited a day and phoned again, saying it was Candice Bergen.
This time she was put right through.
Emerson Burn sounded like a male version of Nature." Allo?"
"Emerson Burn?" Lauren asked, just to make sure.
"Candy Bergen?"
"No, this is Lauren Roberts-Nature's assistant. She'd like to invite
you to dinner next week."
He sounded disappointed. "I thought you was Candy Bergen."
"Your secretary must have gotten your calls mixed up."
"Okay. . . dinner with Nature. She's on.
"What night?"
"Tuesday-eight o'clock. But only if she'll cook."
Lauren choked back laughter. Nature in the kitchen-that was a good
one. "Do you have any special requests?"
"Yeah. Teller I want roast beef, Yorkshire pud and roast potatoes."
When Lauren informed Nature of his request she panicked. "Oh, Gawd! I
can't bleedin' cook. Can you?"
"Don't worry, well hire a caterer."
"I don't want a bleedin' caterer," Nature wailed. "This has gotta
taste like a omecooked meal. Look-find a cooking school and learn.
Then I'll pretend I made it. Ow's that?"
Lauren laughed. "It's different."
And that's how she found herself attending a cooking class learning how
to make roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. She learned fast.
The night of Nature's date with Emerson she prepared the meal, gave
strict instructions how to serve it, then retreated to her bedroom in
the back of the apartment.
At three a.m. she awoke, walked quietly out of her room to turn the
lights off in the living room, and discovered Nature and Emerson asleep
on the white bearskin rug, naked and wrapped in each other's arms.
For a moment she stood quite still, staring at them. Then she felt too
much like an intruder and hurried back to her room, closed the door and
attempted to sleep.
It was impossible.
She knew the time had come to move on. No more hiding behind Nature.
She had to resume living.
n the morning of the Tijuana run Nick awoke at seven. He wasn't into
getting up early, but today he was on edge and found it impossible to
sleep.
DeVille lay quietly beside him. DeVille with her pale red hair and
glorious white body. He hadn't sent for her, but she'd arrived anyway,
and since she was standing on his doorstep he'd taken her in. He'd
tried to explain to Annie, who pretended it didn't matter, grabbed her
purse and ran out of his apartment like she had a rocket up her ass.
He wasn't sure whether she was angry with him or not. Probably she
was. Women were like that-overly sensitive.
For a couple of days he'd lost himself in sex. It was so good it
should be illegal-especially with DeVille, who knew everything he liked
and made sure he was the happiest man on the block.
"I can get my own apartment if you want," she'd offered, not really
meaning it.
"That's a good idea," he'd replied, not really meaning it either, and
they'd fallen back into bed.
Now she'd been at his place for five days and he knew it was time for
her to go-only he hadn't gotten around to mentioning it.
Tomorrow I'll do it, he thought. Give her fifty bucks and ease her out
gently by telling her that living together was not a good idea on
account of his career.
What career?
The career he was going to have after Joy Byron saw him perform and
found him an agent-who i
n turn would secure him his first professional
acting job.
Confidence, you had to have confidence-and he was brimming with it.
By eight o'clock he'd taken a run on the beach, eaten a healthy
breakfast of bran and bananas and got himself mentally ready for his
first phone call of the day. He called Annie.
"Hey, listen," he said. "Remember I was supposed to work on some kinda
scene for Joy Byron?"
"Yes?" she said in her Who gives a damn voice.
"You promised to help me out. I haven't had a lot of time this week-"
"I can imagine," she interrupted.
"I've found the scene I want to do. I thought I'd drop by tomorrow and
read through it with you."
"I'm working tomorrow," she said coolly.
"I'd really like to rehearse before I do it for Joy," he said, hoping
to persuade her.
"Miss Byron," she corrected. "Nobody calls her Joy."
"You will read with me, won't you, Annie?"
"Did I say I would?"
Time to turn n the charm, not so easy over the phone-he did better in
person. "Are you pissed at me?"
"Should I be?"
"I dunno." A short pause. "Hey-about DeVille arriving on my
doorsteshe's an old girlfriend from Chicago who blew into town with
nowhere to stay. She be moving on soon." He glanced over at
DeVille-still asleep on his bed. DeVille wasn't moving anywhere.
There was a long awkward silence, finally broken by Annie. "I bumped
into Cyndra yesterday," she said. "She'd like to hear from you.
"I've been meaning to call her."
"What are you waiting for? She is your sister."
7
"I call her tomorrow. I'm driving to Mexico today "Mexico?"
"Yeah, I'm picking up a passenger. Somebody's kid is getting out of
boarding school."
"Boarding school-in Mexico?"
"You think I'm making it up?"
"I'm never sure what you make up and what's the truth."
He got off the subject. "So . . . can I see you tomorrow?"
There was another long pause before she finally said, "Okay, I guess
so. Come by at five, we'll go to class together."
"I'll be there," he said, hanging up.
After scoring the two grand he was going to tell Manny goodbye.
One trip was enough. Soon he'd have an acting job and wouldn't need
this crap.
Manny had told him to go out and buy a chauffeur's uniform. He'd done
so reluctantly. Jeer! There was nothing worse than dressing up in a
uniform, feeling like somebody's lackey.
The uniform hung in his closet. He took it out, looked at it, put it
away and went back to bed.
DeVille groaned in her sleep as he snuggled up behind her, letting her
know he was awake. Tomorrow he really would tell her to leave.
May as well make the best of this last opportunity.
"Annie remarked, rubbing suntan "I finally heard from your brother, oil
on her legs.
"What's he up to?" Cyndra asked, turning on her lounger beside the
pool. "I call him all the time-he's never home."
"That's because his girlfriend came in from Chicago."
Cyndra sat up. "What girlfriend?"
"Some tall showgirl type with long red hair."
"Jealous?"
"Who, me?"
"Come on, Annie. I know you like" "Well . . . I must admit I thought
there might be something between us, but that was before I found out he
was the Don Juan of the out-of-work actors."
Cyndra nodded knowingly. "Nick's always been like that. Back in high
school he could have any girl he wanted."
"You should have warned me."
"I didn't think you were planning on getting involved."
"You're the one who gave him my phone number."
"I had a feeling you two might be good together."
"Listen, the last thing I need in my life is a guy who can't keep it in
his pants."
Cyndra laughed. "Okay, okay, I get the message." She glanced up as
Reece emerged from their apartment wearing a pair of flashy madras
shorts with several heavy gold chains swinging around his neck.
Annie greeted him with a desultory wave. "Hi, Reece. Another hard
day's work?"
"Don't look like you're exactly bustin' your ass," he said, throwing
her a dirty look before settling down on the lounger next to Cyndra.
"Reece likes to work on his tan," Cyndra said quickly.
"You don't have to explain nothin' to her," Reece snapped.
"I wasn't explaining."
Annie jumped up before they got into another fight. Lately she'd heard
a lot of yelling coming from their apartment. "What's happening with
that demo record you were supposed to do?" she asked, to change the
subject.
"These things take time," Cyndra said.
Annie stood up and stretched. "I guess they do. See you guys
later."
Luigi managed to ignore Nick when he arrived to collect the car. Nick
ignored him back as he made his way through to Manny's office.
"The uniform suits ya," Manny wheezed, looking him up and down. "Now,
make sure ya got this right. Ya drive across the border, pick up Suga
from the hotel an' drive straight back to L.A. If they stop ya at the
border ya don't know from nothing. Ya was hired to pick up a
schoolkid." He sucked on his cigar. "Who was ya hired by?"
"Prince Limos," Nick said, reciting his part.
"Yeah-no mention of Glamour. Ya got the address I gave ya?"
"All set."
I: "Did Luigi put new plates on the car?"
"They're on.
"Okay, you're ready."
Yeah. As long as I don't get busted.
What was he bringing back? He hoped it wasn't drugs.
Who was he kidding? Sure, it was drugs. What else could it be?
On the drive to San Diego he played Rolling Stones tapes nonstop,
making the trip in record time. He was ahead of schedule, so he parked
the car in an underground garage and sat in a Burt Reynolds movie
killing time. After that it was all the way to Tijuana.
Once there he parked outside the hotel and searched the lobby looking
for Suga.
He couldn't see her. Shit! Manny had said she'd be standing right in
front.
Just as he was about to approach the desk an apparition sneaked up
behind him and tapped him on the arm. It was Suga, looking twelve.
Scrubbed of makeup, her hair in braids, a school cap on her head and in
full uniform, she resembled a truculent tomboy.
"Are you blind?" she hissed from the corner of her sulky mouth. "I
been standin' here forever."
He did a double take-the transformation was remarkable.
"Pick up my goddamn suitcase," she commanded, marching outside.
He followed her, carrying the case, which weighed a ton. Maybe he
should spring it open before they crossed the border and check out the
contents. For all he knew he could be carrying a goddamn body, it was
heavy enough.
Suga stood next to the limo, stamping her feet impatiently.
He sprung the trunk open, loaded the suitcase, then got into the
driver's seat.
"Bust your ass outta here," Suga squeaked, jumping in the back. "I
hatethese runs-they make me wet my pants."
"How ma
ny times you made this trip?" he asked, sliding the car away
from the curb.
"Too many," she replied, popping bubble gum.
They drove in silence for a while, until he couldn't contain himself
any longer. "What's in the suitcase?"
"Did Manny say you could ask questions?" she snapped. "Whyn't ya just
drive. You're making your money-what do you care?"
He eased the limousine along the crowded streets. Now he was getting
nervous. Two grand was one thing, but it wasn't worth getting
busted.
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