Hollywood Divorces / Hollywood Wives: The New Generation (18 page)

N
icci made up her mind to stay at home for a change. After all, she was getting married soon and she had much to do. She decided it would be nice to wander around the house by herself before Evan’s mother arrived and ruined everything. Hopefully, Evan would be back from location soon after Lynda Richter presented herself, although his movie seemed to be running way over schedule.

She’d bought a new mudpack facial treatment at Fred Segal, and after taking a leisurely swim, she put on an old In Sync T-shirt, and applied the messy pack to her face.

Man, do I look like a clown
? she thought, mugging at herself in the mirror.
Thank goodness Evan’s away. If he saw me like this…

She’d asked Saffron if she wanted to come over, but Saffron had a date with another hot stud. Obviously Ramone hadn’t been enough of a deterrent.

Alone in the house, she was intent on enjoying herself. She put on a Limp Bizkit CD and danced crazily around the living room.

When the doorbell rang she didn’t think much of it. ‘Who’s there?’ she called out.

‘Delivery,’ a male voice said. ‘Need a signature.’

‘Okay,’ she said, throwing open the door. Standing there was Brian.

‘Jesus!’ he exclaimed. ‘Didn’t realize it was Halloween!’

‘I’m auditioning for a role in the next
Survivor
,’ she said, hardly taking a beat, although inside she was totally humiliated that he’d caught her in such a state. ‘Uh…how come you didn’t call?’

‘My brother wants his papers, so here I am. Gotta fly back early tomorrow.’

‘You were supposed to be here yesterday.’

‘What did you say to my girlfriend?’ he asked, entering the house. ‘You pissed her off.’

‘You don’t
have
a girlfriend,’ she retorted.

‘Let’s put it this way,’ he said, heading for the bar, ‘I
did
have one this morning, now I don’t.’

‘She must have been a temp, ’cause every time
I
see you, you’re with a different girl.’

‘Hey,’ he said, grinning, ‘variety’s the spice of my libido.’

‘Help yourself to a drink,’ she said sarcastically, as he picked up a bottle of vodka. ‘I’ll be right back.’

She raced into the bathroom and hurriedly rinsed her face, wiping off the dried mud with a towel.

I look like a freak
, she thought miserably.
This is
so
dense. How could I have gotten caught like this
?

Brian was drinking straight from the vodka bottle when she returned.

‘We
do
have glasses,’ she said caustically.

‘How about grass?’ he asked.

‘Why?’ she said.

‘Why?’ he repeated. ‘’Cause I thought I’d call the cops an’ have the place raided. Whaddaya think?’

‘I think you’re like
nuts
.’

‘Gimme a joint, for crissakes. Thanks to you, I had a drag-out fight with my girlfriend.’

‘I keep reminding you, Brian, you don’t
have
a girlfriend.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ he said, taking another swig of vodka.
‘Well, let me tell you, this one was Miss January last year, and believe me, you don’t want Miss January walking out when you’re feeling horny. And I
am
feeling horny, ’cause I can’t get anywhere near our star on the movie.
Somebody
’s banging her, and it sure as hell ain’t me.’

‘Sorry to hear about your sexual problems,’ Nicci said sarcastically.

‘I’m sure, ’cause you and my bro never have any, right?’

‘Evan’s very romantic,’ she said, jumping to his defence.

‘No shit?’ Brian said disbelievingly. ‘That’s not what his last fiancée said.’

‘Evan’s never been engaged before me.’

‘Apparently big bro doesn’t tell you everything.’

‘What’re you talking about?’ she asked, frowning.

‘Let’s go get somethin’ to eat, an’ I’ll fill you in.’

‘
Now
?’ she said, pushing back her long bangs.

‘You’re hungry, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘’Cause I’m freakin’ starving.’

‘Well…’ She wasn’t sure whether to accept his halfhearted invitation or not. ‘Okay,’ she said at last. ‘I suppose I could eat something.’

‘How about a joint before we go?’

‘Isn’t the vodka enough?’

‘Jesus Christ! You sound like my freakin’
brother.
’

She went into the bedroom, got a joint from her bedside drawer, lit up, inhaled deeply, re-entered the living room and handed it to him.

‘You’ll have to wait while I go get dressed.’

‘No!’ he said in mock dismay. ‘And I thought I was taking you like that. It’d be like dragging around a scraggly little sister.’

‘You’re such an asshole, Brian,’ she said crossly. ‘I don’t think I
want
to go to dinner with you.’

‘Yes, you do,’ he said, grinning again. ‘I’m the irresistible brother. Remember?’

Oh, God, and he had a giant ego too!

‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ she said, deciding that this was an opportunity she couldn’t turn down. Now she’d be able to see for herself what a pain in the butt he really was, and then she could stop fantasizing about him once and for all.

She hurried into her closet, grabbed her Dolce & Gabbana jeans, cowboy boots, a red tank and her motorcycle jacket. She dressed quickly, then brushed her hair and applied a fast makeup.

Brian was standing out on the patio gazing at the view when she returned. He still had the bottle of vodka in one hand, and the joint in the other.

‘You certainly get off on enjoying yourself, don’t you?’ she said.

‘Hey, what else is important?’ he replied, taking a deep drag.

They walked outside.

‘Whose car shall we take?’ she asked.

‘Yours,’ Brian said, walking around to the driver’s seat of her BMW.

‘If we’re taking mine,
I
’m driving,’ she said.

‘Oh, no, baby,’ he answered, shaking his head. ‘You’re not with Evan now. When you’re with me,
I
’m the one in the driver’s seat.’

‘You look good,’ Lissa said, answering the door herself.

‘Hey,’ Michael said, smiling, ‘compliments from the boss. I’m flattered.’

‘I’m not your boss,’ she said, smiling back, ‘simply one of your many clients, right?’

‘Our most important client.’

‘Really?’

‘Would I lie?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Not me,’ he said, following her into the den.

‘So here we are,’ she said, thinking how nice it was to see him.

‘You’re looking good yourself, Lissa,’ he said, wishing he
had
bought her flowers. It would’ve been a friendly gesture–nothing to be misconstrued.

‘Now that my black eye has kind of faded,’ she murmured.

‘I can see that.’

She walked towards the bar. ‘Can I offer you a–no, I can’t, can I?’

‘I
do
drink,’ he said, impressed that she’d remembered. ‘Water, orange juice, soda, or maybe you’ve got a non-alcohol beer?’

‘I doubt it,’ she said, opening the small fridge behind the bar. ‘I could send Chuck out to get some.’

‘Don’t bother. I gotta stop drinking it anyway–don’t want to end up with a big beer gut.’

‘Oh, yes,’ she teased. ‘I can just imagine you with a big beer gut. Sort of like a white Quincy!’

‘Ouch! That’s mean.’

‘Don’t take it the wrong way,’ she said quickly. ‘I love Quincy, he’s like a big, cuddly bear.’

‘Q’s the best guy I know. A true stand-up.’

‘How’s orange juice?’

‘Healthy.’

She smiled, poured him a glass and handed it to him.

‘Thanks,’ he said, watching her as she opened a bottle of Evian for herself.

‘By the way,’ she said, ‘there’s a TV programme on tonight I should see. Something called
The Real News.
Have you heard of it?’

‘Yeah, crap TV at its worst,’ he said, leaning on the bar. ‘Why do you have to watch it?’

‘Apparently Gregg’s making an appearance.’

‘He is?’

‘I’ve alerted my lawyer. Anything he says about me can be held against him, and I assure you, I am
not
anxious to pay him alimony.’

‘Didn’t he sign one of those pre-nuptial deals?’

‘Fortunately he did, only because my lawyer insisted.’

‘You must have a smart lawyer.’

‘I do,’ she said, thinking how good he looked all in black. ‘Only can you imagine how difficult it is when you’re just about to get married to suddenly have to say, “Oh, by the way, can you please sign this pre-nup?”
Not
exactly the most romantic words in the world.’

‘How’d he take it?’ Michael asked.

‘Badly. Got very uptight. Then, when he saw that my business people meant it, he backed off and finally signed.’

‘Here’s
my
take,’ Michael said thoughtfully. ‘If two people are getting married, why would one of them object to signing something that only comes into being if they get divorced? Hey, I’d sign a piece of paper saying I didn’t want anything from anybody, but that’s just me.’

‘You’re an original, Michael,’ she said, smiling warmly. ‘Especially in this town.’

‘Right,’ he said ruefully. ‘I’m the one with the murdered wife, and the alcoholic past. Oh, yeah, and I haven’t told you about how I got shot when I was a cop in New York. You’ve got that sorry story to come.’

‘Quincy already told me about that. Besides, I like your stories,’ she said quietly.

‘I’m glad somebody does,’ he said, with a wry grin.

‘I thought we’d eat in here,’ she said. ‘After all, this
is
a casual business meeting, right?’

‘Nothing else,’ he said, clearing his throat.

‘Well,’ she said, walking out from behind the bar, ‘let’s go in the kitchen and I’ll introduce you to my cook, Nellie. She’s making lasagna. Whatever it’s like, please smile and say it’s great. Nellie’s very sensitive to criticism.’

‘I can understand that.’

‘And…if you’re
very
good, maybe she’ll fix you a milkshake before dinner.’

‘Lasagna and a milkshake,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘How lucky can one guy get?’

Belinda Barrow was starting to think that she might have made a mistake. Moving Gregg Lynch in had seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, he’d been married to Lissa Roman, he was a singer-songwriter, not bad-looking, and could be potential husband material–especially if he scored plenty of alimony from his famous wife.

Now she was discovering that he might be nothing more than an angry drunk, although she had to admit he was an energetic performer in bed.

As usual, she discovered him in the bar. ‘Y’know, you’ll ruin your looks if you keep on drinking the way you do,’ she remarked.

‘Are you talking to me?’ Gregg said, looking at her like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

‘Yes, I am,’ Belinda said. ‘It’s for your own good.’

‘It is, huh?’ he said, pouring himself a shot of vodka.

‘You want to be a star, Gregg, and over the next few weeks you’ll probably get a lot more exposure, so I suggest you control your drinking for a while.’

‘What is it with you women?’ he said belligerently. ‘If you want me to stay here, you’d better cool it with the nagging.’

She bit back a sharp retort. She’d been around too long to take abuse from a man. On the other hand, there were not a lot of available men in Hollywood. The single ones were either burned-out perverts or totally gay. She decided she’d give Gregg a chance. After all, they’d only been together a short while.

‘Just a suggestion,’ she said, keeping it light. ‘Doesn’t
make any difference to me. I’ll make sure the bar is stocked up and you can go ahead and lose your looks. Only when you do, that’s the time I’ll say goodbye.’

‘You
bitch!
’ he said disbelievingly.

‘No name-calling,’ she said curtly. ‘You may have gotten away with it with your wife, but you can’t move into
my
house and call
me
names. Now, do we have something going here, Gregg? Or are you intent on playing the bitter, disillusioned husband?’

He realized the alternative. Another hotel. Another set of bills to pay with money he didn’t have. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Dunno what comes over me. I’m so bummed out by this whole thing.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘I’ve asked a few people over tonight to watch the programme,’ Belinda said. ‘A captive audience.’

‘Who?’ Gregg asked suspiciously. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize.

‘Friends of mine, including a journalist who might be willing to buy your story. He writes for
Truth and Fact.
We go way back, he used to be my boyfriend, until we had a major split. He’s a good writer, and if you can come up with something new, I’m sure he can get the paper to pay you plenty of money.’

‘I like the sound of
that
,’ Gregg said.

She nodded. ‘So do I.’

‘Y’know, Lissa, you’re not like I thought you’d be,’ Michael said. He was settled on the comfortable couch in her den feeling very much at home.

‘How
did
you think I’d be?’ she asked, amused.

‘The same as all the rest.’

‘All the rest of what?’

‘Celebrities,’ he said. ‘Most of them have that whole
entourage thing going–y’know, a bunch of hangers-on who treat ’em like they walk on water.’

She knew exactly what he was talking about, she’d worked with enough of them.

‘They’re not into being real,’ he continued, leaning towards her. ‘You’re real, Lissa.’

‘The only reason you’re saying that is because I fed you ice cream,’ she said, smiling. ‘You like me because I encourage your bad habits.’

‘And…apart from anything else, you have a beautiful smile,’ he said, unable to stop himself from coming out with what sounded like a corny line. ‘But then,’ he added, ‘how many times a day do you get told that?’

‘Let me see…hmm…’

He stifled an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her. ‘I’m happy you’re doing okay,’ he said. ‘Even happier you haven’t heard from Gregg.’

‘Actually, I have,’ she said, her mood changing to sombre. ‘He called today. Unfortunately,
I
answered the phone.’