Genuine Lies (32 page)

“Then he’s easily fascinated.”

“Quite the contrary. As far as I know—and I say so with all proper modesty—I’ve been the only woman to do so until you.”

“Modesty, hell.” Lazily, Julia rubbed the bottom of her foot over an itch on her instep. “You don’t have a self-effacing bone in your body.”

“Bingo.”

Surrendering to a sudden craving for the brownies, Julia rose and went into the kitchen to fetch the plate heaped with the dark chocolate squares. She set them on the coffee table. Both women studied them warily, then dived.

“You know,” Julia said with her mouth full, “he said the other day that I remind him of you.”

“Did he?” Eve licked chocolate off her fingers, savoring. “Writer’s imagination? Or instinct?” At Julia’s puzzled look, she shook her head. “Christ, I have to get out of here before I eat another one.”

“If you will, I will.”

With no little regret, Eve resisted. “You don’t have to be shoved into costume in the morning. But let me leave you with one small thought. You asked if I would change anything in my relationship with Victor. The first and most important change I would make is so very simple.” She leaned forward, eyes
intense. “I wouldn’t wait until the movie was finished. I wouldn’t waste a day, not an hour, not a moment. Take what you want, Julia, and damn caution. Live, enjoy. Feed ravenously. Or the biggest regret you’ll have at the end of your life is wasted time.”

Lyle Johnson took a pull from a bottle of Bud and mechanically pressed the channel changer on the remote. It was a lousy night for television. He was stretched out on his unmade bed wearing only a pair of baby-blue net bikinis. That way, if he decided to get up and fetch another beer from the fridge, he’d be able to admire his body when he passed the mirror. He was damn proud of his build, and had a particular fondness for his penis—which he’d been told by a number of lucky females was a sight to behold.

All in all, Lyle was satisfied with his life. He got to drive the big bitching limo for a movie star. Maybe Eve Benedict wasn’t Michelle Pfeiffer or Kim Basinger, but for an old broad, she was put together fine. In fact, Lyle would have been willing to share his amazing, world-renowned penis with her. But the lady was strictly business.

Still, he had it pretty good. His apartment over the garage was bigger and better than the dump in Bakersfield where he’d spend his childhood and dissatisfied adolescence. He had a microwave, cable TV, and someone to change the sheets and dig the place out once a week.

The snotty little maid, CeeCee, had turned down a trip to paradise on those nice fresh sheets. Didn’t know what she was missing. Her loss was someone else’s gain as far as Lyle was concerned. He’d been able to talk plenty of other, more friendly, ladies into his bed.

Still, it pissed him off that she’d threatened to go to Miss B. if he’d copped another feel.

Lyle settled on MTV, and since he was bored brainless, decided to get up and sneak a joint out of his stash. He had his ten neatly rolled buddies wrapped in plastic and hidden in a box of Quaker Oats. Miss B. had a strict policy on drugs. You
use, you lose. She didn’t mean just the hard stuff either, and had made that perfectly clear when she’d hired him.

Since the night was mild, he decided to do one better. Pulling on a pair of sweats, he gathered up the beer, the joint, and a pair of binoculars. At the last minute he turned the sound on the TV up so he could hear it on the roof.

With the binoks slung around his neck, the joint clamped in his mouth, and the beer hooked in two fingers, he made the climb easily enough.

Settled on his perch, he lit up. From there he could see most of the estate. Overhead was a canopy of stars and a sliver of moon. The mild breeze carried the mixture of scents from the garden, and the summery tang of grass mown by the gardener just that afternoon.

The old girl lived high, and he respected that. She had it all—the pool, the tennis courts, all the fancy trees. Lyle had fond memories of the putting green Miss B. no longer had any interest in. He’d snuck a waitress onto the estate one eventful evening and had fucked her brains out on the cool, clipped grass. What had she said her name was? he wondered as he held marijuana smoke in his lungs. Terri, Sherri? Shit, whatever it had been, she’d had a mouth like a suction cup. Maybe he should look her up again.

Idly, he swiveled the binoculars toward the guest house. Now, that was one fine piece of work in there. Real quality. Too bad that cute little ass of hers was so tight. She was cold as a witch’s tit too.

And careful. He hadn’t once been able to catch her doing anything interesting with the shades up. He’d been able to spot her going past a lighted window, bundled in a robe, or covered in a baggy sweatshirt. But when she undressed, down came the shades. Since Lyle had been playing peek-a-boo for weeks, he was wondering if Miss Julia Summers ever took off her clothes at all.

Now, Miss B. wasn’t so particular. Lyle had seen her strip down to the skin before, and he’d be the first to compliment her on how well preserved she was.

Tonight there were lights on in the guest house. A guy
could hope. Anyway, Lyle was looking at this Peeping Tom business as a job. A man in his position, with his ambitions, could always use some extra cash. Maybe if Julia had been friendlier he would have turned down the proposition that he spy on her. He laughed to himself as he began to cruise on the combo of Bud and grass. And maybe not. The pay was good; the work was a breeze.

All he had to do was pass along the comings and goings in the guest house, write down Julia’s routine, and keep a record of her outside appointments. Even that wasn’t hard. The woman was so tied up in her kid, she never left the estate without leaving word where she’d be.

Easy work. Good pay. What else could you ask for?

Lyle perked up when her bedroom light came on. He caught a glimpse of her. She was still dressed in a sweater and slacks. She was pacing, distracted. Hope bloomed in horny Lyle’s chest. Maybe she was distracted enough to forget to close the blinds. She paused, was nearly centered in the window as she reached up to draw the band from her hair.

“Oh, yeah. Come on, baby. Keep going.” Chuckling to himself, he held the binoks with one hand and slipped the other down his pants, where he was already firming up nicely.

He’d always heard patience was rewarded. He believed it now when Julia dragged the sweater over her head. Underneath she was wearing some thin, lacy things. A camisole. Tap pants. Lyle prided himself on knowing the correct name in ladies’ lingerie.

He murmured encouragement to her as he primed his own pump. “Come on, baby, don’t stop now. That’s the way. Ditch those pants. Oh, Christ. Look at those legs.”

He let out a groan when the blinds came down, but he still had his imagination. By the time Julia’s lights blinked out, Lyle had shot himself to the moon.

“The place is really hopping.” CeeCee slipped into the kitchen, where Julia was preparing a late afternoon snack for Brandon and Dustin.

“I can hear the commotion.” That alone had caused Julia to ruin two nails and eat her way through a half a roll of Turns. “It’s taken all my wiles to keep the boys from running over and getting in the middle of it.”

“It was nice of you to take Dustin to the park.” “They keep each other busy.” And to keep herself busy, Julia arranged fruit and vegetable slices on a tray in a way she hoped disguised nutrition. “I like watching them together.”

Because she’d come to feel as comfortable in this kitchen as in her own, CeeCee chose an apple crescent. “If you want a real show, you should go next door. You should see the flowers! Man, truckloads of them. And there are all these people jumbling around, speaking in different languages. Miss Soloman’s running around trying to coordinate all of them, and they just keep coming.” “Miss Benedict?”

“She’s being buffed and waxed by a team of three,”
CeeCee said with her mouth full. “The phone hasn’t quit ringing all day. There was this guy in a white suit who actually started crying because some quail eggs hadn’t arrived yet. That’s when I left.” “Good thinking.”

“Really, Julia, Miss. B.’s given some knockout parties, but this is the ultimate. Like she’s pulling out all the stops because she’s afraid she’ll never give another one. Hell, Aunt Dottie told me she was having those quail eggs and some kind of mushrooms flown in all the way from Japan or China or someplace over there.”

“I’d just say Miss B. is indulging herself.”

“Big time.” CeeCee popped a cube of cheese in her mouth.

“I feel guilty that you’re going to miss it because you’re watching Brandon.”

“Hey, I don’t mind.” Anyway, she planned to sneak the boys into the shrubbery to watch for an hour or so. “Half the fun’s seeing everybody go crazy putting it all together. Did you get a new dress?” she asked casually, trailing behind as Julia walked out to call the boys.

“No, I meant to, but it slipped my mind. Hey up there. Snacks in the kitchen.” With the sound of clammering feet and war whoops, the boys streaked down the stairs and zapped into the kitchen. “I’ll put something together,” she told CeeCee. “Maybe you can help me decide.”

CeeCee grinned and stuck her hands in the pockets of her cutoffs. “Sure. I love playing closet. Want to do it now?”

Julia looked at her watch and sighed. Time was running out. “I suppose I should. You can’t get ready for a bash like this in less than two hours.”

“You don’t sound excited. I mean, this is shaping up to be
the
Hollywood party this year.”

“I do better at birthday parties. The kind with pin the tail on the donkey and twenty-five revved-up kids cramming in cake and ice cream.”

“Tonight you’re not a mom,” CeeCee said, giving Julia a little nudge up the stairs. “Tonight you’re on Eve Benedict’s A
list.” At the sound of a knock on the door, CeeCee jumped, then blocked Julia’s path. “No, no. I’ll get it. You go on up. I’ll bring it.”

“Bring what?”

“I mean, I’ll see who it is. Go ahead. And if you’re wearing a bra, take it off.”

“If I’m …” But CeeCee was already rushing off. Shaking her head, Julia headed for the bedroom. Listlessly, she began to paw through her closet. There was the old reliable blue silk, but she’d worn that when she and Paul … It was her own fault she’d chosen to pack more business suits than finery. There was always basic black, she thought, and pulled out a simple number that had served her well for five years. She smiled to herself as she laid it on the bed. CeeCee would probably gag. Julia dove back into the closet.

“My choices,” she said when she heard CeeCee come in, “are pitifully limited. But with a little ingenuity, who knows? She turned. “What’s that?”

“Delivery.” CeeCee set the box she carried on the bed, then stepped back. “I guess you should open it.”

“I didn’t order anything.” Since the box was unmarked, Julia shrugged and ripped at the packing tape.

“Here, let me.” Impatient, CeeCee grabbed a nail file from the nightstand and raked through.

“I’d love to see you on Christmas morning.” Julia blew the hair out of her eyes and opened the top. “Tissue paper,” she said. “My favorite.” But her laugh changed to a gasp of astonishment when she lifted the paper aside.

The shimmer of emerald silk, the dazzle of rhinestones. Hardly breathing, Julia gently slid the dress from the box. It was long, slim, and spectacular, a slither of silk that would sleek over the body like air. The high neck was topped with a banded collar that glittered with stones and was repeated at the cuffs at the end of long, snug sleeves. The back dropped off to nothing from shoulder to waist.

“Oh, my,” Julia managed to get out.

“There’s a card.” With her bottom lip caught in her teeth, CeeCee handed it over.

“From Eve. She says she’d appreciate it if I’d wear this tonight.”

“What do you think?”

“I think she’s put me in an awkward position.” Reluctantly, Julia laid the dress on the box, where it glittered up at her. “I can’t possibly accept this.”

CeeCee looked down at the dress, then back at Julia. “You don’t like it?”

“Don’t like it? It’s fabulous.” Giving in to temptation, Julia ran her hand along the skirt. “Stunning.”