Hollywood Divorces / Hollywood Wives: The New Generation (44 page)

‘Lucia.’

‘Okay, Lucia,’ Zara said briskly. ‘It’s your lucky night. Linc and Freddy have requested that you join them for a drink.’

‘They did?’ she responded breathlessly
.

‘That’s why I’m here,’ said Zara, a pretty girl with dark curly hair
.

‘When?’ Lucia asked blankly
.

‘Now,’ Zara said, rolling her eyes
.

Lucia glanced at Carlos. He was spinning away–caught up in an extended track by Ja Rule. Did she have to ask his permission?

No. It wasn’t as if they were married or anything. She was free to do whatever she wanted. And she wanted to meet Linc Blackwood–her living, breathing fantasy.

She grabbed Carlos’s arm, causing a nasty glitch on the record. ‘Fuck!’ he exclaimed.

‘I’ll be back,’ she said quickly, and without any further explanation she was on her way to meet her favourite movie star.

Twenty-five minutes later, Lucia Conchita Sanchez and Linc Blackwood were rolling around on the king-size waterbed in Freddy Krane’s master bedroom, clothes half off.

‘I–I can hardly believe this is happening,’ she murmured, completely star-struck.

‘Believe it, kiddo,’ Linc responded, pulling off her T-shirt. ‘You got great tits,’ he added, expertly unclipping her bra and flinging it across the room. ‘They’re real, aren’t they?’ She nodded, speechless. ‘You got any idea how hard it is to come across real tits in this town?’ he complained, caressing her nipples with his fingertips
.

She didn’t know and she didn’t care. She only knew that, from the moment she’d met him, her destiny was about to be fulfilled, and nothing else mattered
.

When Linc wanted to, he could handle a woman in bed exactly the way he knew they all craved. He gave Lucia his full attention, enjoying her full, ripe breasts, the silky mound of black pubic hair between her long legs, the smooth curve of her generous ass
.

He didn’t go for the gold immediately, many women
along the way had taught him that plenty of foreplay led to real pleasure. So he got her hot first, spending time on her breasts, sucking on her large erect nipples until she began moaning aloud
.

Then he spread her legs, going down on her as if he really enjoyed it–which he didn’t–but what the hell? This one tasted sweeter than most
.

Lucia was dazed and confused. How had this happened? She was not the kind of girl to jump into bed with someone on a first date. And this was not even a date
. And
she had a boyfriend, so obviously this was total insanity.

Or was it? Linc Blackwood was her hero, and how many times would she get an opportunity to be with the man of her dreams? An opportunity to be with a man who had the tongue of an angel or a devil…or…She gasped, struggling for breath, grabbing a pillow to cover her face as he went down on her. She was half embarrassed, half thrilled, half ashamed, half ecstatic.

WHAT WAS SHE DOING?

WHAT WAS HE DOING?

Whatever it was, she was not stopping him.

They stayed in Freddy Krane’s bed all night, indulging in everything Lucia had ever dreamed of doing with Linc Blackwood. He made love to her every way imaginable, and he did not use a condom.

‘You’re clean, aren’t you?’ he asked, at one point. ‘A virgin, right?’

If that was what he wanted to think, it was okay with her. And she didn’t even care if he made her pregnant, because this time things were different, this time he would marry her and they’d live happily ever after in a big Hollywood mansion–the one she’d seen photographs of in
People.
And she’d become a movie star too. All her dreams would be realized.

Eventually she fell asleep in his arms, sticky and naked and satisfied.

The next morning she was awakened by someone shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes. The events of the night before came flooding back. ‘Linc,’ she murmured, rolling over to greet him.

Only it wasn’t Linc. It was Freddy Krane standing beside the bed, bleary-eyed in a striped towelling bathrobe, which flapped open, revealing that he had nothing on underneath.

‘Ohmigod!’ she muttered, grabbing a sheet to cover herself. ‘Why are
you
here?’

‘Hate ta tell ya, doll,’ Freddy said, pulling his robe closed, ‘ya happen t’ be sleepin’ in
my
bed.’

‘Where’s Linc?’ she asked, alarmed.

‘He hadda go, some kinda early meeting. Asked me t’ tell ya he had fun last night.’

She sat up abruptly, her mind racing in a hundred different directions. ‘Is that all he said?’

‘Ya gotta realize Linc’s a busy man,’ Freddy said, eyeing her as if she was prey and he was a hungry tiger
.

‘So…so you mean he’s gone?’

‘That’s what I said.’

Suddenly realization dawned, and the ramifications of what she’d done became horribly clear. She’d made love to a man she hardly knew. She’d spent the night with him. She’d done
everything
with him, opening up sexually in a way she never had before. And now he was gone. God! He might be a movie star, but what kind of man left her in a strange bed without a word?

‘Hate ta rush you, only ya gotta move it,’ Freddy said. ‘You can use the shower in the guest room, then hustle your cute ass outta here.’

‘Where’s my…boyfriend?’ she asked hesitantly.

‘You got a boyfriend?’ he said disbelievingly.

‘The disc jockey, Carlos. Where is he?’

‘Oh, yeah, that’s the dude who was askin’ ’bout you,’ Freddy said, yawning. ‘Told him you were with Linc.’

‘
What did he say
?’

‘
Guess he was pissed
.’

‘Oh, God!’ she moaned, shaking her head
.

‘Don’t sweat it, he got paid cash for last night’s gig,’ Freddy said, clearing his throat. ‘Ya gotta get goin’, puss. I’m a busy man.’

She was too embarrassed to look at him. ‘Can you turn your back?’ she muttered
.

‘Sure, doll, only you don’t got nothin’ I ain’t seen before.’ He turned around, whistling tunelessly
.

She quickly grabbed the sheet, twisting it around her body. Then she gathered her clothes, which were scattered across the floor
.

‘What’s Linc’s phone number?’ she asked, pausing at the door, convinced there must be some mistake
.

‘Ya ain’t gonna get through, honey,’ Freddy said sympathetically. ‘Linc’s got assistants an’ minders up the kazoo.’

‘Then I’ll give you
my
number, and you can ask him to call me,’ she said, knowing she probably sounded like some desperate fan, only she couldn’t help herself. She’d honestly thought Linc cared
.

‘Look, sweetie,’ Freddy said, in a kindly tone, ‘ya had a great time. Why doncha leave it at that?’

‘Excuse me?’ she said, her cheeks blazing with embarrassment. ‘I’m sure Linc
wants
to see me again.’

‘Yeah, yeah, doll, I’m sure too,’ Freddy said quickly. ‘But in the meantime, why don’t I take ya ta dinner tonight. Who knows–you an’ I might hit it off.’

‘Linc wouldn’t like that, she said, fighting back tears, still living with the hope that this was all some big misunderstanding, and that Linc would come walking into the room.

‘’Smatter of fact, he suggested it,’ Freddy said casually. ‘Y’know, seein’ as he’s so busy an’ all.’

‘I can’t believe he’d do that,’ she said miserably.

‘Hey–what’s wrong with me?’ Freddy said indignantly.

‘Nothing,’ she muttered.

‘Then let’s get together for dinner. You an’ I can have our own party.’ He winked knowingly. ‘If ya know what I mean.’

She knew what he meant only too well. ‘No thank you,’ she said stiffly.

‘Suit yourself,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Guest room’s first on the left. Give me a holler when you’re finished an’ I’ll get the maid t’ call you a cab.’

She marched from the room with as much dignity as she could muster.

So this was Linc’s deal–he’d used and discarded her like a doll, then passed her on to his friend as if she was nothing. What a
bastard!
How could he treat her in such a way?

Her parents were furious that she’d stayed out all night. She’d had to make up some lame excuse about getting sick and sleeping over at a friend’s house. As for Carlos, he wanted nothing more to do with her, and quite frankly she couldn’t blame him.

A few weeks later, to her horror, she discovered she was pregnant. How could this happen to her again? Well, she knew how, only it simply wasn’t fair.

For several days she contemplated trying to reach Linc Blackwood to tell him. Finally she decided she had too much pride to do that. Her once-favourite movie star had treated her like a one-night whore, and she was not about to beg for his assistance
.

Petrified that her parents would find out, she managed to pull a double shift at her waitress job. The extra money allowed her to move from her family’s home into a small apartment with her best girlfriend, Cindi Hernandez, who was also trying to break into show business
.

Her parents were not pleased: they didn’t like Cindi, they considered her a bad influence. Lucia pointed out to them that she was eighteen and they couldn’t stop her
.

As soon as she could, she scraped together enough money for a cheap abortion. It turned out to be a horrifying experience. No clean clinic. No one to help her. Just some old gnarly Mexican man in a back room who forced her to lie on a table, spread her legs, and treated her as if he was doing her a big favour
.

She’d bled for days afterwards, until Cindi forced her to see a legitimate doctor. The doctor cleaned up the botched job, and before she left his office, he callously informed her that she could never get pregnant again
.

His words still haunted her
.

In her heart, Lola had always known that one day she would get her revenge on Linc Blackwood.

Now, as she watched him enter the theatre, she realized that day was enticingly near.

‘
W
e’re late,’ Jonas said, hurrying Cat up the red carpet, steering her by the elbow.

‘Not my fault,’ she responded.

‘I wasn’t blaming you,’ he said, still fuming because they’d had to wait for the tender to bring them to shore, even though he’d informed the purser exactly what time they needed it. Once Mr Zandack left the yacht, the crew seemed to have no regard for anyone else.

‘Perhaps you should’ve picked me up earlier,’ Cat suggested, trying to shake free from Jonas’s firm grip.

‘Mr Zandack will not be pleased,’ Jonas said, almost talking to himself.

‘What’s he gonna do–eat you?’ Cat said mockingly, thinking that Jonas was obviously some sort of drama queen who threw a shit-fit if everything didn’t go his way.

Jonas gave her a blank stare. This girl had a mouth on her and he wasn’t sure he liked it. He had long ago decided she was annoying. She had an I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude and a definite lack of respect toward Merrill Zandack. Mr Zandack was a powerful force in the film industry, and Jonas felt lucky to be working for him. He was getting an education that would help him tremendously when he struck out on his own, which he planned on doing as soon as he felt he’d learned enough.

A couple of lingering photographers recognized Cat and began calling her name. She didn’t know how to react–the whole posing thing was such a downer. She found it plain embarrassing.

‘Stop and smile,’ Jonas commanded, letting go of her elbow and taking a couple of steps back so he was not included in the picture.

Cat offered the photographers a fake smile and an awkward wave, before hurrying up the steps of the Palais des Festivals. Jonas had to sprint to keep up with her. ‘I hope the movie hasn’t started,’ he said, worrying.

‘Bet it has,’ Cat said, irritating him even further.

‘Maybe not.’

‘Shit!’ she exclaimed, stopping short.

‘What now?’

‘My diamond stud popped out of my navel.’

‘Jesus!’

‘We have to go back and look.’

‘Look where?’ he asked, exasperated.

‘On that dumb red carpet. I must’ve lost it there.’

‘No,’ he said firmly, attempting to move her forward.

‘It’s my first diamond,’ she complained.

‘You’re late,’ he said abruptly. ‘I’ll show you to your seat, then
I
’ll go back and look.’

‘And what if you don’t find it?’ she demanded, challenging him with her green eyes.

‘Mr Zandack will buy you another one,’ he said, hurrying her along.

‘He will?’

‘I’ll make sure.’

‘Didn’t know you had that much influence.’

‘You’d be surprised.’

Hmm
, she thought,
Jonas isn’t as bland as I imagined
.

She wondered if he was gay. Could be. It was difficult to tell. Although he was rather well groomed for a straight
man, with his perfect haircut, Prada outfit and well-manicured nails.

Gay?

Definitely
.

The movie had started, which put Jonas in a foul mood. He indulged in a quick verbal argument with an uptight French usher who tried to prevent Cat from entering the theatre. Jonas spoke excellent French and won the battle.

‘This man will show you to your seat,’ he said to her, giving her a quick shove towards the usher. ‘I’ll see you after the movie. Oh, yes, and try not to speak while the film is running. Mr Zandack doesn’t appreciate noise.’

‘Fine,’ she said irritably. ‘And don’t come back without my diamond.’

‘I’ll find it,’ he said, adding a snarly, ‘That’s if you had one in the first place.’

‘Well,’ she answered slowly, ‘I guess
you
weren’t staring at my belly-button like every other guy in the place. But don’t
you
worry–I
totally
understand why.’

‘Oh,
please
,’ Jonas retorted, getting her drift and not liking it one bit.

The uptight usher led her to her seat with the help of a flashlight.

‘Where were you?’ Merrill growled.

‘Sssh,’ said a large woman, sitting in the row of seats behind him.

Cat settled back to watch the movie. She didn’t have to explain anything to anyone, that was Jonas’s job.

Flash Back Six Years

When Cat Harrison was thirteen, she found herself alone in a villa in the South of France with one of her father’s
acquaintances, a seventy-three-year-old extremely famous artist. Her father had left her there while he went to Paris for a few days. They were supposed to be on vacation together–only it never happened.

‘What age are you?’ the old man asked, peering at her with rheumy eyes.

‘What age do you want me to be?’ she replied challengingly, tall and tanned and blonde and lovely.

‘The younger the better,’ the old man said, leering lasciviously.

She knew what was coming next. Men had been on her case since she was a lot younger than thirteen. The old man reached for her. She backed away. Even though she was young, she knew how to handle horny old leches
–kick him in the balls and run.
Only this one was no threat, so she didn’t bother. Instead she agreed to his request to pose nude for him, but only if he paid her an exorbitant fee for the privilege of doing so.

The painting he did of her was an enormous success and ended up hanging in the National Gallery. It was called
Girl On The Brink.
Her father, the renowned sculptor, Gable Harrison, was quite amused. Her mother, Bethany, the world-renowned photographer and legendary beauty, was not.

‘If you’re going to pose naked, at least get your pubic hair groomed,’ was her mother’s only comment.

Negative! Negative! Negative! When it came to her daughter, her mother never had anything positive to say. Five times married Bethany Harrison was jealous of her daughter’s burgeoning beauty. She loved Cat, but only on her own terms.

Cat understood. She was an old soul, wise beyond her years. She’d had to grow up fast because both her parents were too busy with their highly successful all-consuming careers to pay her much notice
.

As an only child, Cat was left very much to her own devices. Discipline from either parent was non-existent. They both
spoiled her with money and material goods, when all she really craved was their love and attention
.

She attended school in London where, more often than not, she played truant. She’d stuff her books bag with jeans and a T-shirt, make her way to the nearest underground station, change out of her uniform, and hit the movie theatres in the West End. Movies were her passion. She devoured everything from out-of-control teen gross-out movies, to films by Tarantino and Scorsese
.

Since she looked at least four or five years older than her actual age, she had no trouble attracting men, and picking them up was a habit she soon got used to. Getting them hot was an adventure. The game was to get them out of control, then reveal her true age. Ha! The horrified look on their faces as they backed off was classic!

She was not interested in boys her own age, finding them crass and inexperienced. Not that she went all the way with her conquests. Oh, no. Men were not to be trusted. Her father was an example of that: Gable Harrison, an imposing-looking man with his long, snow-white hair, frivolous beard and flirtatious eyes. Cat resembled her mother: she had that tall, blonde, perfect thing going. Sometimes she wished she was short and dark and Italian-looking, but she had to go with what she had
.

By the age of thirteen she’d absolutely perfected the art of sexually doing Everything But. She was totally adept at driving grown men crazy–a teenage nymphet with a hot body, a ton of curiosity, and no desire to get knocked up. She felt wise way beyond her years, and was much travelled. Vacations in the South of France, Sardinia and Capri with her father’s famous and exotic friends; safaris in Africa and trips through India with her much-married, travelling mother, and whatever husband Bethany was married to at the time.

Ah…Bethany’s husbands. They were a trip indeed, each
one younger than the last. At least three of them came on to Cat. Fortunately she knew how to handle horny men–especially horny men married to her mother.

By the age of fourteen she was bored with almost everything
. Been there, done that,
was her motto. Then one day, while staying with her father in New York, she met Brad Kravitz, a twenty-something Internet whiz-kid who’d made millions of dollars in a very short period of time. She was about to celebrate her fifteenth birthday. Brad was twenty-two. With her father’s blessing and her mother’s encouragement she moved in with Brad, and it wasn’t long before he introduced her to the wonderful world of real sex and recreational drugs.

Goodbye, boredom.

Hello, Ecstasy and speed.

Cat wished she had a bag of popcorn to munch on. Jonas would’ve probably thrown a fit if she asked him to find some.

Too bad. The movie was riveting–and good movies and popcorn absolutely went together.

Shelby was nervous. Following her image on the screen was quite an ordeal: all she could see were her faults. Half the time she wanted to cover her eyes, because viewing herself larger than life was never something she enjoyed.

Staring at the screen she had to admit that
Rapture
was an extraordinarily powerful movie, and that the performance her director, Russell Savage, had got out of her was excellent, quite possibly her best work yet, and certainly her biggest opportunity.

She shot a sideways glance at Linc. His eyes were closed.
How insulting! Her own husband was napping his way through
her
movie. Sometimes he could be the most selfish man in the world.

She nudged him.
‘What?’
he muttered, startled.

‘You were sleeping,’ she whispered accusingly.

‘I wasn’t,’ he responded, covering a yawn with his hand.

She shook her head in exasperation before refocusing her attention on the screen. Soon it would be over and people would either love her performance or hate it.

She shivered in anticipation.

Matt’s hand descended on his wife’s thigh. Lola promptly removed it. She was doing her best to concentrate, studying Shelby Cheney on the big screen, wondering what Linc had seen in her that had made him place a ring on
her
finger. Shelby wasn’t
that
hot, kind of ordinary-looking. There were hundreds of girls who looked exactly like her in Hollywood.
I’m sexier and younger
, Lola thought.
Why did he choose her and not me? She’s too white bread. No spice. Not exciting like me
.

In spite of all her success, Lola could not get Linc Blackwood off her mind. And the surprising thing was that over the four years she’d been successful, she had never run into him. Quite remarkable, considering the number of award ceremonies, parties and premiers she’d attended. A few times she’d spotted him from a distance, and that was it. No face-to-face confrontation.

One night, lying in bed, she’d come up with a plan. She’d recently read an interview in
Premier
magazine about how Linc was looking to do something different. ‘I’m getting too old for action movies,’ he’d said to the female interviewer, self-deprecating grin firmly in place, ‘so I was thinking of changing directions. Maybe try a romantic
comedy.’ Elliott Finerman’s new movie–
New York State of Mind
–was a big-budget romantic comedy, with an excellent role for her male co-star who had not yet been cast. It occurred to her that Linc might accept the role if it was offered to him. The only thing she
didn’t
know was how he’d react at the fateful moment when they
did
come face to face. Surely he must know that she was now this famous creature, a fantasy goddess to millions of men? She was actually quite surprised that he’d never attempted to contact her. Perhaps he was too embarrassed.

Tonight should be interesting. Linc was at the screening, so no doubt he’d be at the party after and they were bound to be introduced. She couldn’t
wait
to savour the look of surprise on his face, or perhaps the look of lust when he saw her.

Ha! He could lust away, because he was
never
getting anywhere near her again. And when he accepted the role in her movie, she would torture him with her quite considerable charms.

She would not be satisfied until she brought Linc Blackwood to his fucking knees.

Matt’s hand was investigating her thigh again. This time she gave him a sharp slap on the wrist.

‘Whassamatter?’ he mumbled.

‘Don’t,’ she hissed.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I don’t want you to.’

Faye, sitting the other side of her, leaned forward. ‘Something wrong?’ she whispered.

‘No, everything’s fine,’ Lola said, returning her gaze to the screen. ‘In fact, everything’s perfect.’

Cat had to admit that
Rapture
was good. Russell Savage
was a stylish and talented director, and the writing was sharp, if slightly overwrought at times. She wasn’t sure that she would’ve cast someone as pretty as Shelby Cheney in the lead role, but the actress was doing an excellent job.

Cat was psyched about making the leap into the big-time. It was one thing shooting
Wild Child
on the streets of New York, but now Merrill Zandack had promised her a fat budget for her second film,
Caught
. It was exciting, because this time she’d be able to hire a proper crew, a decent cinematographer,
and
pick and choose who would star. She kind of entertained the idea of going with unknown actors again. Stars always came with all kinds of baggage. Although Angelina Jolie would be sensational as the undercover cop. And she wouldn’t say no to Colin Farrell as the womanizing con-man. He was certainly sexy enough, with plenty of macho heat.