American Star
Page 54
main thing was to enjoy it.
He'd gotten Joey out of the hospital in New York and now he was safely
stashed in a drug rehab clinic somewhere in the middle of the
country.
As soon as Joey was through with his treatment he'd arranged for him to
come straight to L. A.
In the meantime there was Annie to deal with.
They had dinner at a little restaurant near the Santa Monica Pier, and
talked about what they'd both been doing. Toward the end of dinner she
leaned across the table and fixed him with a penetrating stare. "Nick,
am I going to move in with you?" she asked. "Is that what we're
planning?"
He hadn't been planning anything of the sort, but it was obviously what
she expected. He stalled for time, finally saying, "Uh, you mean you'd
give up your apartment?"
She nodded. "If we're going to be together it seems only sensible.
Why waste money paying rent on two places?"
The last person he'd lived with had been DeVille. Toward the end he'd
felt beyond claustrophobic. "Are you sure it's what you want?" he
asked, hoping she'd say no, but knowing she'd say yes.
"Very sure," she said firmly, just as he'd predicted.
He knew if he backed away she was going to start with the I'm going to
the cops crap again. He couldn't afford to take the risk.
"If that's what you want, you should move in."
"Are you sure, Nick?"
He took her hand and squeezed it. "Yeah, course I am."
What a lie. He liked Annie as a friend. He didn't love her, and the
last thing he wanted was to live with her.
Trailing Frances around another industry party was the same old
story.
However, he felt a little more secure. He'd starred in a movie and a
couple of people seemed to know who he was even though the movie hadn't
come out yet.
He felt even more secure when he bumped into Carlysle. He'd missed the
on-the-edge excitement of being with her. This was a different
Carlysle from the girl he'd known in New York. She wore a neat little
dress with a Peter Pan collar and a sweet angelic smile.
"This is my mother," she said, introducing him to an untidy-looking
woman who practically ignored him. "Mommy, this is Nick Angelhe
starred in Night City with me. Remember? I told you about him."
"Oh," Mommy said. "So you're Nick. I hear you've done a good job."
"I'm hoping," he said.
Carlysle did not make a pass at him. Carlysle was a different person
when she was with Mommy.
After the cocktail party Frances took him to dinner. "So, you did fuck
her," she said, studying the menu.
"Who?"
"Carlysle. It was all over New York."
He grinned. "I had no" "A word of advice," Frances said, sipping a J&B
on the rocks.
"Never let your cock interfere with your career.
"I'll remember that, Frances," he said, trying to keep a straight
face.
A week later Annie moved in. He hated having to share his closet.
She hated the fact that the bathroom was down the hall. "I'll look for
something better," he promised, although he was fond of his little
place by the beach.
Six weeks later he was invited to view a rough cut of the movie.
Annie and Cyndra accompanied him. He sat in the theater sweating,
wondering what it was going to be like seeing himself on the screen.
He'd attended a couple of days' rushes, but that was it. Meena,
Frances and Bridget were in the audience. Having them there made him
extra nervous. He nodded at his two producers-the woman didn't even
crack a smile. Carlysle was there with her mother, looking demure.
Cyndra squeezed his hand. "This is so exciting!" she whispered.
"Yeah, almost as exciting as your record debut. When's it coming
out?"
She grinned.
"Two weeks. I can hardly stand it!" he said.
"We'll celebrate, "You bet we will."
He wished something would come along for Annie. He knew she must be
feeling left out, working at the health club watching their careers
take off while she never got a break. It couldn't be much fun.
When the lights dimmed he slid down in his seat, barely able to see the
screen. Carlysle got star billing. He got: INTRODUCING NICK ANGEL AS
PETE.
Jesus! That was his name up on the screen. He'd actually made it -he
was in a fucking movie!
The film was fast-paced, gritty and surprisingly good. At the end of
the screening there was a burst of spontaneous applause. Bridget was
smiling-unusual for her.
Frances came up to him. "I like the film, I like you in it."
"Lunch tomorrow," Meena said on her way out. "It's about time you met
the head of the agency."
Cyndra was more excited than anybody. "Oh, God, this is so great!
You're fantastic, Nick, you really are!"
Annie was more controlled. Naturally. It wasn't in her nature to get
excited about anything.
The three of them went to a restaurant on the Strip, where they
celebrated with double margaritas and huge steaks.
Later, at home alone with Annie, he felt like making love, but not with
her, she didn't turn him on. He was only with her because he had to
be-it was a sad thought.
But tomorrow was another day and he'd figure out somethingmaybe.
He lay awake for a long while thinking about the movie, wondering what
would happen next.
Eventually he fell asleep with a smile on his face.
Lorenzo Marcella was the quintessential Italian man. Tall, exquisitely
dressed in the finest Armani had to offer, proudly handsome in an
aristocratic way. His dirty-blond hair was longish and lightly touched
with silver at the temples. His jewelry was discreet, and solid gold
of course. His car was a black Maserati-not exactly ideal for
Manhattan, but he would not dream of letting down the image. He was
forty-two years old and the sole heir to the family fortune. While he
waited to inherit he'd been sent to America to spearhead the Marcella
girl launch.
Lorenzo had no idea Lauren was married to the head of the powerful
advertising agency Liberty and Charles-the very agency that was
handling the Marcella account. And even if he had, it wouldn't have
made any difference. "This is the girl we use," he announced, picking
out Lauren's photo from a select group.
"She's expensive," Oliver said, trying to curb his amusement, for he'd
known there was no contest.
"How expensive?" Lorenzo demanded.
"Very," Oliver replied, straight-faced.
"Does she represent any other product?"
"No," said Howard, sitting in on the meeting with several other Liberty
and Charles executives.
Lorenzo studied Lauren's photographs one more time. "Then we sign her
to an exclusive Marcella contract. I don't mind what she costs. She
is the girl."
"Good," said Oliver. "I think you've made the perfect choice."
Lorenzo flashed a movie-star smile. "But of course!"
"Well, my dear," Samm said, her cat eyes gleaming. "You are the new
Marcella girl-it's a done deal.
"
"You got my price?" Lauren asked.
"Yes, this was a record breaker and I am very happy indeed. Of course,
as I mentioned before, most of my models will want to kill me. They'll
blame me for not getting them the job. You're going to be a star."
Lauren laughed. It didn't seem possible. "I'll be in a lot of
magazines, and my face will be around, but that hardly makes me a star,
Samm."
"Just you wait," Samm said, nodding wisely. "Hollywood will come
chasing after you. Didn't you once tell me you wanted to be an
actress?"
"That was a long time ago."
"Well, sweetie, you're hardly ancient. How old are you now?"
"I'll soon be twenty-five."
"An old hag," Samm laughed. "I'd like to see Jimmy Cassady's face when
he picks up the first magazine with you on the cover."
"Being the Marcella girl does not mean I'll be on any covers."
"Oh," Samm said acidly, "if they want you at Vogue you'll turn them
down?"
"Yes, I told you-I'm doing this for the money."
"I'm sure Oliver can look after you very nicely."
"Yes, he can. But I prefer to be independent."
"You do know that Nature was up for this job, don't you?"
"How is she?"
"Living in L.A. with a producer."
"What happened to Emerson?" Lauren asked, trying to sound casual.
"According to Nature, he sent her a telegram from Japan announcing he
was ending the marriage. By that time she'd moved in with her
producer, so she didn't much care. Don't you read the gossip
columns?"
"Actually, I don't."
"Smart girl. Who needs to fill one's mind with trivia."
Oliver, who'd been so enthusiastic at the idea of her being the
Marcella girl, was now not so pleased. "Perhaps I've created a
monster," he said.
"Don't be silly, Oliver."
"I know what's going to happen. I'll never see you.
"Representing Marcella will not take all my time. I've read the
contract carefully. Two photo sessions a year, six public appearances
and one commercial."
He shook his head. "You have no idea how much of your time they'll
require."
"You were the one that got me into this in the first place."
She was confused. She hadn't wanted a career in the public eye, but
now it seemed that's exactly what she was about to have. All she'd
really wanted was to marry Oliver and live a happy, fulfilled life.
Only this was not to be, her husband could never fulfill her. Oliver
could not make love the way she expected, and whenever she raised the
subject he dismissed it as though it wasn't important.
Did he really think she was going to want nothing but oral sex from him
their entire married life? If the truth were known, he'd tricked her
into marriage. He should have told her about the pacemaker.
Meeting Lorenzo Marcella was an experience. The only Italian man she'd
ever come in contact with before was Antonio the photographer, and he
was gay. Lorenzo was the complete opposite. He kissed her hand, gazed
into her eyes, inundated her with white orchids and told her she was
the most beautiful woman who'd ever breathed.
"You are my Marcella girl," he said. "You will make every woman in the
world want to be you. And every man want to be with you."
She backed off, his avid attention made her edgy. "I'll do my best,"
she said.
"Ah, but your best is going to make me a very happy man," Lorenzo
crooned, continuing to gaze into her eyes.
They were at a luncheon in her honor-arranged so she could meet the
other executives from Marcella. "Did you tell them we're married?"
she whispered to Oliver.
He shook his head. "No. I imagine they'll find out soon enough."
"But he's coming on to me.
"Take no notice, my dear. Italian men come on to every woman.
Whether they be six or sixty-it doesn't make any difference to them."
Obviously, Lorenzo's outrageous flirting did not bother Oliver, so she
went along with it.
"I will have a wonderful party to present you to the press," Lorenzo
told her. "It will not be another boring press conference. It will be
a fantasy ball-and you will make a divine entrance in the middle of the
party."
"I will?"
"Yes, bellissima. You shall introduce Marcella Cosmetics to the world
as only you can. Everyone will fall in love with you-just as I
have."
"You have?"
Lorenzo flashed his dazzling smile. "But of course!"
AO The next few months proved challenging and exciting for both Cyndra
and Nick. Neither of them could really comprehend what was happening
to them.
"It's like a dream come true," Cyndra said. "Can you believe it,
Nick-you and me? My record's taking off and your movie's a big hit.
It's incredible."
It was incredible. If he wasn't stuck with Annie he might have enjoyed
it a lot more. He was so tired of faking his emotions, pretending to
be someone he wasn't.
Annie was smothering him. Because her own career had failed to go
anywhere, she leeched onto his-voicing her opinion on everything. This
was exactly what he didn't need. It was enough he had Frances giving
him advice, Meena handling his career and Bridget guiding him through
the maze of hungry press.
He also had his producer friend anxious for him to start her next
movle. He'd read the script. It was not exactly what he wanted to
do.
Meena said they'd try to get him out of the contract.
"How?" he'd asked.
"With the right lawyer we can do anything," she'd replied
confidently.
Night City had launched his career. It was one of those low-budget
films the critics loved and the public flocked to. His reviews were
excellent and suddenly he was an actor people were talking about.
He'd followed Bridget's advice and made up a past for himself, not
revealing too much.
"Try not to smile in interviews," she'd told him. "Cultivate that
moody look. Women love it."
He did as she asked. Especially with the reporter from Satisfaction.
They ran a cover story on him that blew his mind. He was on the cover
of a fucking magazine and everybody in the world was going to see it!
In the meantime, Cyndra's record was getting plenty of air play.
Gordon Hayworth had financed a trip for her and Marik to visit some of
the most influential disc jockeys in the country. Marik loved the idea
of traveling with her, but she wasn't so thrilled. She would have
preferred that it was Gordon accompanying her.
Shortly after she got back Nick took her for a long drive. It had been
a while since they'd been alone and had a chance to talk privately. He
drove his rented car to Paradise Cove and parked. It was a beautiful
September day and they got out and strolled along the beach.
"So," he said, stopping to flip pebbles in the sea. "How you feelin',
kid?"
"Sensational! What about you?"
"The agency is trying to get me out of that contract. They have
another film for me to do. This time it
's a big movie with an
important director."
"Is it what you want, Nick?"
"Yeah, I'm doing all the things I always dreamed of."
"So am I," she said. "Thanks to you."
"Why me?"
"Because you're stuck with Annie. You've saved us both."
He shrugged. "Annie's a nice girl."
Cyndra pinned him with her eyes. "But she's not the girl for you, is
she?"
"You can talk. Marik's not the guy for you-but sometimes we do stuff
to make things work."
"How do you know Marik's not for me?"
"I see it in your eyes.
"Oh, thanks a lot, Nick. Am I that obvious?"