Hollywood Kids (43 page)

Well, at least he had a definite date with her for tomorrow night, and that was something to look forward to.

He drove by the production office and found out Jordanna had left to go somewhere with Bobby Rush. After that he made his way back to his apartment, stripped off his clothes and stood under the shower for ten minutes.

Bella. Where was Bella? When was he going to find her?

Suddenly he had that feeling again. That dry-mouthed desperate so-what-if-I-had-one-shot-of-Scotch feeling. It frightened him, because he knew that one of these days he might succumb, and if he did it would be all over.

Had to get to an AA meeting. Had to get back into the discipline of knowing that every day was a struggle, but he could beat it if he stayed focused.

When he was finished in the shower he tied a towel around his waist, walked into the living room and pressed on the answering machine. The first message was from Amber inviting him for dinner the following night and suggesting he might like her to invite Shelia.

No way, Amber.

The second message was from the woman with the muffled voice who'd called him at the studio. 'Got the money?' she said in the same flat voice. 'Time's running out.'

He played the message back several times, wondering how she'd gotten his home phone number, and if she really knew anything at all.

The sound of Bella yelling, 'Daddy! Daddy!' kept echoing in his head.

Or
was
it Bella?

Who knew?

'Fuck!' Slamming the machine off he went and got dressed.

Had to find his kid. There was no way he could go on like this.

Out there somewhere was an answer, and it was up to him to discover what it was.

'This is ridiculous,' Cheryl said, staring at herself in a full-length mirror, mesmerized by her new glamorous image.

'No, it's not, it's a game,' Grant observed, standing behind her. He was stoned and it showed, although he was still good-looking in spite of his dissolute appearance. 'Remember how we used to play games in school?' he said. 'Taking chances, that's what got us through those crummy years.'

'How could I ever forget?' she said, wondering why she'd agreed to take part in this particular game. It was crazy, and yet if she backed out now Grant would think she was chicken, and that would never do.

Once, when they were both fifteen, they'd gone on a shoplifting spree at Sak's. The winner had to score over five hundred bucks worth of merchandise. Cheryl had gotten up to four hundred and fifty when the store detective had pounced.

Her father had been furious. 'If you needed more money all you had to do was ask,' he'd yelled, and promptly increased her allowance.

Money meant nothing. Showing Grant that she could do this meant everything. How many other women he knew would be up to the challenge?

Fortunately she was also a little bit stoned. She wasn't sure she could go through with it if she wasn't.

'Gotta admit, you look pretty out there,' Grant said, putting his arms around her waist from behind and playfully squeezing.

Then how come you don't take me to bed? Why are you sending me out to sleep with a stranger?

'Do I?' she said coolly, knowing that she'd gotten herself together. For once in her life she looked positively
svelte
. Everything worked. Sheer black pantihose and very high heels - her legs, along with her hair, were her best asset. A Victoria's Secret bra and skimpy Azzedine Alai'a dress. Her hair, freshly done and gleaming red. And more make-up than usual.

'
Very
sexy,' Grant said, squeezing her even tighter. 'I'm beginning to think I should have given you the test run.'

She assumed he was joking, wished fervently that he wasn't.
Never let him see you care
.

'Oh, please, Grant,' she said dismissively. 'Don't talk to me like I'm one of your half-baked all-American cheerleaders.'

'Aren't you getting turned on by this?' he asked, hugging her from behind. 'I know I am.'

'Perhaps you'd like to come and watch,' she suggested brusquely, waiting for his reaction.

'Ha! I'm sure the client would get off on
that.'

'Who is the client anyway?' she asked for the third time.

'I told you. Some high roller from out of town. You're perfectly safe.'

'Fine for you to say.'

'Go to the front desk of the hotel, ask for Mr Nanni. Use a condom and don't kiss him on the lips.'

'Thanks for the advice,' she said, turning away from the mirror and his arms. 'OK, I'm ready. Let's go.'

'You're sure?'

No. I am not sure. Why the hell don't you stop me?

'Yes, of course I'm sure.'

'Then let's get this party on the road.'

'I love hotels,' Sharleen said, bouncing up and down on the king-size bed.

'I had to get out of the house,' Mac said tensely. Those kids are enough to drive a person insane. They're always in my face asking for something.'

Sharleen stretched luxuriously. 'You give them too much.'

'No more than you give your daughter.'

'At least she appreciates it.'

'Sharleen, you've got a short memory. Darling innocent little Suzy brought a drug dealer into our house.'

'She didn't know.'

'Bullshit.'

'We're not going to fight, are we?' Sharleen asked, stroking his cheek.

'Not after the day I've had,' he said grimly.

'Was it a tough one, sweetheart?' she murmured, her hand moving down, creeping inside his shirt.

'You have no idea.'

She tweaked his nipples. 'How about telling me? Maybe I can help.'

Oh, God, this woman could turn him on whatever his mood. 'It's a long story,' he managed.

She undid his belt. 'And I'm an excellent listener.'

'When you want to be.'

'Ohh...' she said, groping inside his pants and finding gold. 'I want to be.'

He closed his eyes, shutting out the real world.

Sharleen's talented hands enclosed him, and then her even more talented mouth, and nothing seemed that important any more.

'You're distracted,' Charlie said.

'No, I'm not,' Kennedy replied defensively.

'Yes, you are.'

'OK, so I'm distracted.'

'Wanna tell me why?'

They were sitting in Georgia, a restaurant on Melrose. She'd not reached connections for either Stephanie Wolff or Pamela March, and Charlie was right, she
was
distracted, because she needed more information. Rosa was also trying. They'd arranged to speak later.

'I'm thinking about a story I'm working on,' she admitted.

'The murders?' Charlie asked.

'You know about them?'

He fixed her with a half-lidded stare, 'Hey, green eyes, whaddaya think I do all day when I'm not workin'? I watch TV. I'm a true addict. I saw you last night. You got attitude, strength of character. Seein' that really revs my libido.'

'Glad to hear it.'

The waiter brought their drinks to the table, two exotic peach daiquiris. Charlie had a shot of rum on the side which he downed in one quick gulp.

'You like this place?' he asked, looking at her sideways.

'Very much.'

Wait until you suck on a spare-rib. Heaven ain't got nothin' like it.'

'Can't wait,' she said, picking up her drink.

He did the same and clinked glasses with her. 'To you, green eyes,' he said. 'Whatever you want is yours for the taking.'

'Really?'

'That's my adage, lived by it every single day, and here I am - big freakin' movie star.'

'Is that all you want, Charlie?' she asked gravely. 'Fame?'

'It keeps a smile on my face.'

And buries the hurt inside, she wanted to say, but didn't. Charlie had secrets and demons. He covered his insecurities with a laid-back stoned demeanor. But Kennedy knew, she could feel his pain.

Did she want to get involved, that was the question.

No.

So why was she here?

Because it had seemed like a good idea at the time, and she hadn't met Michael Scorsini when she'd agreed to go out with Charlie. And Michael? Well... she couldn't help thinking about him. There was something about Michael that went way beyond his good looks. He had a vulnerability she'd immediately hooked into. Never mind the macho Italian thing, underneath the bravado she knew there lurked a sensitive man, and she wanted to get to know him in every way.

Or did she?

She hadn't called him back because of the fact that by the time Rosa left, Charlie was on her doorstep. It was probably just as well, because if she cared to face the truth she knew she was scared of getting involved. And yet she'd agreed to have dinner with him the following night, and who knew what that might lead to?

'Who're you thinking about?' Charlie asked, zeroing in on her. 'What's his name? An' what's he got that I can't give you more of?'

'Why, Charlie, I do believe you're coming on to me,' she said, mildly flirting.

'No way, green eyes, not unless you want me to. In fact,' he said, sitting back, 'not unless
you
ask me.
I'm
available, but I gotta feelin' you're not.'

'Where are we going?' Jordanna asked, as Bobby's car sped down Melrose.

'I feel an urge for southern fried chicken. Have you been to Georgia?'

'The place - no. The restaurant - yes.'

'OK with you?'

'Perfect,' she said contentedly. She was unused to somebody else making decisions for her - it made a nice change, because it was usually she who called the shots, and most of the time picked up the cheque. This was almost like a real date, although she was sure Bobby didn't consider it a date at all. He probably figured he was buying the kid dinner because she'd gone with him to his father's and he felt he owed her.

'What's your take on Jerry?' he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

She considered her answer. 'An asshole - like you said. Pissed at you 'cause of your success. Sees himself as old and finished, and sees you as what he used to be.'

'You're very astute.'

'It can't be easy for old movie stars in this town. One minute they're flavour of the year, and the next they're on the slag heap, hosting real-life drama shows on TV.'

He liked Jordanna, she said exactly what she thought, a refreshing quality in a town full of bullshit. 'Is that what I've got to look forward to?' he asked, amused.

'In about thirty years.'

'I'll try to enjoy 'em.'

'You should.'

Pulling his car up to the restaurant he handed his keys to the valet.

Brad Johnson - one of the owners - greeted them at the entrance. 'Where have you been?' he said to Jordanna. 'We've missed you.'

Working,' she said, giving him a big hug. 'Can you believe it! Me, working?'

'No, I can't,' Brad said, leading her into the crowded restaurant. 'Welcome back.'

Across the room Charlie had a perfect view of the entrance. 'You'll never guess who's coming our way,' he drawled. 'One of your personal favourites.'

'Who?' Kennedy asked.

'Bobby Rush.'

'Oh, God!' she groaned.

'You shouldn't've slammed him,' Charlie scolded good-humouredly. 'Bad karma.'

'I told you, I didn't.'

'Did you tell
him
that?'

'He wouldn't take my calls, so I wrote and explained.'

'You don't wanna apologize?' Charlie teased. 'Say you're sorry like a good girl?'

'Are you
serious
? she snapped, highly embarrassed by the whole thing.

'Just askin',' he said, pushing his chair away from the table and standing up as they approached. 'Kiddo!' he exclaimed, grabbing Jordanna in a lecherous hug. 'An' Bobby. What a fine young couple!'

'We're not a couple,' Jordanna corrected quickly, observing two extight-butt lovers lingering at the bar.

'Don't get excited,' Charlie drawled. 'I ain't feeding
The Enquirer
. Not this week anyway.'

'I owe you a thank you, Charlie,' Bobby said. 'Jordanna's an excellent PA.'

'Any time... An' I guess you know Kennedy Chase.'

Bobby did a slow double-take. The blonde was sitting there cool as a long drink of water, like she hadn't done a major kill on him. 'Yes,' he said, distantly. Taking Jordanna's arm he steered her away from the table. 'That's the bitch who wrote about me in
Style Wars,'
he muttered.

'Really?' Jordanna said, as they sat down at their own table. 'Want me to throw a glass of red wine over her?'

'You'd do that for me?'

'I work for you, Bobby. Just ask, I'll do.'

She had him smiling again. 'I bet you would.'

'Oh, I would,' she assured him. 'I'm
very
loyal.'

'Loyal, huh?'

'When I like someone,' she said boldly, staring straight into his amazing blue eyes. If he didn't get it this time he was either obtuse or totally uninterested.

'Jordanna-' he began.

'Yes?' she asked eagerly.

'I like you a lot, but-'

Before he could continue, Tyrone appeared and hovered by their table - handsome, tall and totally pissed off. 'What the fuck are we doing here?' he asked, as if he owned her. It was obvious he'd had too much to drink.

She blinked. 'Excuse me?'

'I asked what you're doing here?'

'Hey, wait a minute-' Bobby began.

Tyrone was not to be stopped. 'You break a date with me to have dinner with
him
.' He jerked his finger at Bobby. 'How about the courtesy of the truth?'

'I'm sorry, Tyrone, this was unexpected. I didn't -'

'Couldn't resist the movie star, huh?' he sneered unpleasantly.

'Hey, buddy, you're out of line,' Bobby said, coming to her defence. 'This wasn't planned. We -'

'I don't give a fuck whether it was planned or not,' Tyrone interrupted, grabbing Jordanna's arm. 'Don't play games with me. You-'

She pulled her arm away, throwing him off balance.

Bobby stood up. 'I think it's time somebody drove you home.'

'Screw you,' Tyrone said. 'We're not in the office now.'

Bobby put his arm around him. 'Let me-'