American Star

by Jackie Collins

  Hilary and Karen, knew her well, anticipating her every request.

  Actually, the truth was she'd trained them so efficiently they could

  probably do it without her. Which was good, because when she and

  Oliver were married she'd have to delegate a lot more. Oliver had

  already told her he wanted her to travel with him, and why not-she was

  dying to see Europe. He took six weeks' vacation every year, traveling

  through Italy, France and England. Help Unlimited would just have to

  manage without her for a few weeks.

  Jessie popped into the kitchen. "Almost ready," she said, beaming in

  her severe, men's style velvet suit. "The melon and caviar was a

  riot!"

  "We're all set when you are," Lauren said, adjusting the flame under

  the sauteed carrots.

  "Spectacular!" exclaimed Jessie.

  One of the things Lauren liked about catering dinners for the Georges

  was their unbridled enthusiasm. Quentin was exactly like his wife.

  The two of them enjoyed life, and it was infectious.

  "Who's out there tonight?" Lauren asked Hilary, who'd been busy

  serving the hors d'oeuvres.

  Hilary recited a list of celebrities-including a controversial black

  politician, an avant-garde dress designer, a famous ballplayer and two

  movie stars. Jessie sure loved to mix people up.

  Lauren decided Oliver would be happy when he dropped by. He enjoyed

  hanging out with celebrities. She didn't. If she was lucky she

  wouldn't have to emerge from the kitchen all night long.

  "Did you like it?" Carlysle giggled, holding tightly onto his arm in

  the back of her limo. "Was it the best-the very very best you've ever

  had?"

  He grinned lazily. "The best."

  She squeezed his arm. "Don't lie to me, or I'll have to do it

  againright now in the car.

  He laughed. "Sure."

  Her blue eyes sparkled. "You think I wouldn't?"

  "I'm positive you would."

  "Want me to?" she asked, stroking his thigh.

  He felt himself getting hard again. "What about the driver?" he

  said.

  She pressed a button and the black privacy glass slid up. "Oh, he's

  not getting any-he's definitely not on my list."

  Before he could question her about what list that might be, she was on

  him again-going for his zipper with practiced hands, springing him

  free, and bending her blond head.

  He gave himself up to the moment, pressing the top of her head, forcing

  himself into her mouth as deep as she could take him.

  This time he lasted longer, and when he came it was an explo "Shit!"

  he exclaimed, falling back on the leather seat. "Holy sion.

  shit!"

  She laughed triumphantly. "I'm good, huh?"

  "You're great."

  "The greatest?"

  What was it with this girl? All she wanted to hear was how great she

  was. "Yes," he said.

  "The greatest you've ever had?"

  He reached for her breasts again, but she slapped his hands away.

  "We're here," she said. "Didn't you notice the car stop?"

  ù "Sweetheart," he sighed, "I didn't notice anything but you."

  He'd said the right thing. Carlysle beamed like a cat who'd just

  devoured a saucer of cream-and in a way she had.

  "Later I'm gonna fuck you," he said.

  "Later I'm going to let you," she replied.

  Grinning, they alighted from the limo and entered the house.

  The vichyssoise was served. The guests were happy. In the kitchen

  Lauren concentrated on the mashed potatoes, making sure they had just

  the right combination of cream, butter and milk. Cooking was

  therapeutic. She really enjoyed creating a meal and watching as all

  the empty plates came back into the kitchen.

  "Carlysle Mann just arrived," Hilary said. "She's 5000 pretty."

  "You're pretty too," Lauren said crisply. "You're as pretty as any

  movie star."

  "No way!"

  "Yes, you are.

  "She's got fantastic skin," Hilary said enviously.

  "Talking of skin-did you see the guy she's with?" Karen said.

  "Cute," they both said in unison. "Very very cute." They burst out

  giggling.

  Oh, to be young again, Lauren thought. Hilary and Karen were so

  bright-eyed and full of life. She was only six years older than them,

  but sometimes she felt like a staid old lady. "Come on, girls,

  concentrate," she said. "Let's get this meal on the road."

  Carlysle's hand began creeping up his leg again. Shit! She was

  actually doing it in front of all these people. And important people,

  too.

  He glanced around the table and couldn't believe he was sitting among

  them.

  "Hey-stop that," he whispered.

  "Why?" she whispered back.

  Cause somebody's gonna see.

  "So what?" she replied.

  "So what? You're crazy-you know that?"

  She leaned very close and nibbled on his earlobe. "If I had my way I'd

  give you a blow job right under the table now."

  This girl was not bluffing. "You would too, wouldn't you?"

  "Ooops! I dropped my napkin-excuse me." She started to dive under the

  table.

  He grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Don't you dare!" he warned.

  "So, Carlysle sweetie," said Jessie, turning in their direction.

  "How's your new film going?"

  "We only just started," said Carlysle, abandoning her under-thetable

  plan. "I guess you heard about Charlie? He has a kind of.

  uh, virus."

  "I'm so sorry. Is he in the hospital?"

  "Not exactly. Well, sort of-yeah, I guess you could say he is."

  "I always thought you two made such an adorable couple," Jessie said.

  "Uh thanks."

  Jessie turned away to talk to the politician on her other side.

  Nick nudged Carlysle. "I didn't know you and Charlie were a couple.

  "We weren't," she said shortly.

  "Then why'd she say that?"

  "We went on a few dates-that's not exactly being a couple."

  He imagined her on her knees in front of Charlie and he wasn't too

  thrilled. But still, he hardly knew her, he couldn't start acting

  possessive at this stage.

  Soon she began trying to unzip his jeans again, her hands working

  feverishly. "Give me a break!" he said, catching a look from the

  dress designer on his other side, who had orange hair and an

  attitude.

  Carlysle giggled. "Stop acting like a prude."

  This girl was a wild one.

  Oliver arrived during the dessert stage.

  "The dinner was simply divine," Jessie informed him. "You're marrying

  the best cook in the world."

  Oliver was amused. "I'm not marrying Lauren for her cooking, Jessie

  dear."

  "I'm sure you're not."

  He put his head around the kitchen door. Lauren was busy organizing

  desserts. She'd baked two tartes tatins, and a batch of double

  chocolate brownies.

  "You're busy," he said.

  "Very astute," she said.

  "Jessie wants you to come out and join the party."

  "I can't do that. Anyway, I'm not dressed."

  "You're more beautiful than any of the guests."

  "You're such a smooth talker, Oliver."

  "Which is exactly why I'
m where I am today."

  She ladled whipped cream into a crystal bowl. "Oliver, please-I'm

  trying to get this together."

  He nodded understandingly. "Very well, I'll go and sit down and wait

  patiently. When you're ready I'll take you home."

  What about her surprise? She'd been looking forward to a puppy all

  night, but then again, he couldn't bring it to the Georges' house.

  Maybe he had it waiting at home.

  Everybody carried on about the delicious desserts. Jessie had squeezed

  Oliver in between Quentin and a vivacious book editor with teased black

  hair. Suddenly she stood up, tapping the side of her champagne

  glass.

  "Listen, everyone, I have an announcement," she said, beaming around

  the table.

  Nick felt Carlysle's hand slide inside his zipper. This was wild, but

  he couldn't help being aroused.

  "I know you've all enjoyed the excellent food tonight, and I'm bringing

  our chef out to allow you to thank her personally. You may also

  congratulate her, because she and Oliver Liberty are engaged.

  You all know Oliver, but I don't think you've met his lovely

  fiance'e."

  Jessie beckoned a waiter. "Have Lauren come out," she said.

  In the kitchen Lauren was mortified. "I'm not going out there," she

  said, backing into a corner. "What does she think this is-a show?"

  Karen gave her a little shove. "You have to, she's waiting."

  "Oh, no!" Lauren groaned.

  "Oh, yes!" Karen and Hilary chorused, enjoying every minute.

  They loved working for Lauren, and they were delighted to see her get

  the kind of attention she deserved.

  Reluctantly she allowed herself to be propelled to the dining room

  doorway. If there was one thing she hated it was being the center of

  attention.

  "Ah, Lauren dear, there you are." Jessie raised her champagne glass.

  "Here's to you.

  There was an enthusiastic round of applause from the guests.

  She felt like a total fool. Her eyes scanned the dinner table,

  checking out the guests. She looked once, twice and couldn't believe

  her eyes. Nick Angelo was there. Her Nick was actually at this

  dinner.

  No, it couldn't be.

  Yes, it was.

  She looked again. He was older, more handsome than ever, skinnier.

  His eyes were still deep green and intense. His hair that incredible

  jet black. Oh, God! She wanted to die. The only good thing was the

  fact that he hadn't seen her. He was all over the girl sitting beside

  him, who happened to be Carlysle Mann, the movie star.

  Desperately Lauren tried to breathe, to recover her composure.

  Move slowly. Get out before he spots me. Get the hell out!

  As she turned to bolt from the room he looked up and their eyes met.

  He was as startled as she was. They gazed at each other in disbelief

  before she broke the stare and rushed back into the kitchen.

  She didn't hesitate, grabbing her coat and purse she began running for

  the back door.

  "Where are you going?" Hilary asked, startled.

  "I don't feel good. I have to get out of here. Tell Oliver I had to

  go.

  "One of us should come with you," Hilary insisted.

  "No-I have to get out now," she said, flinging open the door and racing

  out of the apartment before anyone could stop her.

  "What's the matter?" Carlysle said. "What happened?"

  His hard-on had deflated. "Nothing," he said, brushing her hand away

  as he surreptitiously tried to zip up his pants.

  "What do you mean, nothing?" she said, her chin tilting

  belligerently.

  He got up from the table." Scuse me, I gotta take a piss."

  "I'll come with you. You'd be surprised what we can get up to in the

  john."

  "Hey-Carlysle, I'm not surprised at anything you do. Stay here.

  I'll be back."

  In the hall outside the dining room he grabbed a hovering waiter.

  "How do I get to the kitchen?"

  "Through there, sir. Can I get you something?"

  "Nah, it's okay," he said, hurrying into the kitchen.

  She wasn't there. He stopped a pretty girl in a striped apron.

  "Where's Lauren?"

  "She left," Hilary said, quite intrigued by this intense-looking guy.

  "She didn't feel good."

  "Where can I contact her?"

  "Do you need to have a party catered? We have a very comprehensive

  service. Here, let me give you one of our cards."

  She handed him a card and he stared at it. HELP UNLIMITED was printed

  in the middle with an address and phone number. In neat script on

  either side were two names-Lauren Roberts and Pia Liberty.

  "You can contact us anytime," Hilary said, wishing he'd flirt with

  her.

  "During business hours, of course."

  "Oh, I will," Nick said, pocketing the card. "Bet on it." he couple

  entwined on the bed made love fast and furiously until they climaxed

  with a series of grunts and moans.

  "Oh, baby, baby, that was freakin' sensational!" said Marik.

  Cyndra rolled away from him, flushed and surprised at her own boldness,

  yet at the same time strangely exhilarated. Marik had only been in her

  life a week, and she already had him in her power.

  "Was it good for you too, baby?" he asked, sitting up and reaching for

  a cigarette.

  "You know it was good for me," she replied, coming out with all the

  right words. "You're an amazing lover, Marik. The best."

  They'd been to dinner at a cozy Italian restaurant, following an

  afternoon in the studio, where she'd finally cut a demo record. Marik

  had liked what he heard. When they were finished in the studio he'd

  said, "We're going' out to celebrate, cause when the big boss hears

  your sound you're gonna be signin' your life away!"

  She'd glowed with delight. "Really?"

  "Yeah, babe. Really."

  Cyndra liked Marik, he seemed nice enough. But more than that, she

  wanted something from him, and she was beginning to learn that if you

  wanted something you had to offer a prize in return. Her way of doing

  this was to get him into bed, where she knew she had the power.

  "Do you really like my voice?" she asked again, anxious to hear him

  repeat the compliment.

  "Hey, baby, how many times I gotta tell you? You sound good! A little

  raw in places-nothing I can't fix when we record your first single."

  She'd been waiting to hear those words from somebody legitimate all her

  life. She moved closer to him, brushing her breasts against his

  chest.

  "What happens next?"

  "Anything you want," he said, puffing on his cigarette with a blissful

  smile.

  "I want a contract."

  "Baby, as far as I'm concerned, you got it."

  "I want to start making money.

  "I'm the man to do it for you.

  "And I need somewhere to live. I moved out of my apartment.

  Right now I'm staying at my brother's."

  "Oh, wow, you're in a bad way, huh?"

  "I had to get away from Reece. Now I plan to start fresh."

  "You will, baby. When the big boss hears your voice and takes a look

  at you, we're going' all the way."

  "That's exactly what I needed
to hear."

  He laughed. "Come back here, and I'll show you exactly what I need."

  Marik was true to his word. Within a week she was installed in a new

  apartment, she'd signed a contract with Reno Records and finally met

  the big boss. His name was Gordon D. Hayworth, and he was a

  powerful4looking black man in his forties.