Lovers and Liars (32 page)

“What?”

“All the rumors.”

She tossed the paper aside and picked up her sandwich. “What rumors?”

“The takeover rumors.”

“What takeover rumors?”

“Jesus! Haven’t you heard? Word’s out that North-Star’s about to be raided.” The gaffer raised his Coke. “By that guy, Glassman.”

Her world became deathly still. “
What
?”

“He’s been buying up stock like crazy. He says it’s just friendly investing, but everyone I know says he’s gonna take over the studio. Can you believe it? We’re in the middle of a corporate raid!”

A sick feeling started to well up within her.

Just what the fuck was Abe up to?

“So how’s the big-time screenwriter?” Abe asked the minute she stepped inside his Aspen duplex condo.

“Hello, dear,” Nancy said, an elegant vision in designer jeans and tons of silver-and-turquoise Indian jewelry.

“Hello, Mom,” Belinda said, and then she turned to face Abe. “Is it true?”

“You look like you swallowed some turpentine. Is what true? Can’t you even say hi to your old man?”

“Is it true, Abe?” Belinda grated. “Are you raiding North-Star? Are the rumors true?”

Abe looked at her; then he laughed. “They ain’t rumors, babe.”

“You shit!” Belinda ground out.

Nancy, behind her, went white.

“Don’t you talk to me that way,” Abe said, hard.

“Why? Why are you doing it? It’s me—isn’t it?”

“You?” Abe lifted a brow. “Don’t flatter yourself!”

He was lying—Belinda knew it. “What are you up to? It’s an awfully big coincidence that you’re taking over a company I’m working for!”

“Before this raid I already owned eight percent of North-Star,” Abe said calmly. “This was strictly a business deal, and you have nothing to do with it.”

She didn’t believe him. Did she?

“Do you think I’m gonna piss away millions of dollars? I’ve been eyeing this company for a long time, Belinda. I didn’t get to where I am today by making stupid personal
decisions. Besides, what in hell would I have to gain by taking over North-Star as far as you’re concerned?”

“I don’t know,” Belinda said. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

Abe laughed. “Well, you keep on thinking long and hard, and you’ll figure out that you don’t have anything to do with this.”

Belinda looked at him. She knew only one thing—she didn’t trust him. She knew him too well.

58

“J
ack, this is silly.”

Jack stood bare-chested in the bedroom of the condo he was renting. He rummaged through his suitcase, then pulled out his favorite sweater and pulled it on. “Did you reach anyone, Mel—anyone?”

Mel stood watching him. Why was he insisting on going to this party now? He had just been devastated. He needed to relax. He needed comforting—her comforting. Why did he have to face the vultures that would gather around him at the Kellers? “No, lack, everyone’s gone until the first.”

Jack was expressionless, but a muscle ticked in his jaw. “I sure as hell could use a drink,” he said more to himself than to her.

Melody’s eyes went wide. She bit her lip, not sure what to say.

He looked at her, laughing, not a particularly happy sound. “Don’t worry, I need to stay sober to fight fucking Glassman.”

“Jack, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for
Berenger’
s cancellation.”

His gaze, furious, pinned her. “This is personal. Glassman
is trying to fuck me—personally. Do you understand?” Before Melody could answer, he was jamming his thumb at her. “Do you know what that film means to me? To my career? The difference between being a teenybopper’s TV idol and a frigging movie star! Movie star! I worked on that film for four months, Mel, four fucking months—and I was good, I mean, damn good! And now, now he’s reaming me, the son of a bitch.”

“But, Jack, why would he do this to you?”

“Because I laid his wife.”

She gasped.

“Sixteen years ago, Mel. I was twenty-one, for God’s sake. And she wanted it—believe me—badly. Christ, that was the loneliest woman I have ever seen!”

“Jack, that’s crazy—”

“Yeah, well, you tell the crazy man that. After I got out of the hospital—oh, I didn’t tell you, did I?” He was bitter. “He had three thugs beat the shit out of me after he found out. I almost died. After I got out of the hospital, I couldn’t keep a job. I kept getting fired. Glassman had one of his thugs chasing around after me, paying everyone off to see I stayed out of work. My spot in acting class had been taken, and the bitch wouldn’t give me another one. A girl I was shacking up with threw me out. Believe me, Mel, I know. He paid her off, the cocksucker. I had about ten dollars to my name, and I was on the streets of New York.”

“What did you do, Jack?”

He laughed harshly. “Picked up some rich broad who paid me for fucking her.”

Melody’s expression was full of pity and compassion.

“For God’s sake, don’t look at me that way,” he snapped, striding out of the room, brushing past her rudely. “Are you going to get ready, or not?”

“Yes, yes,” Melody said and hurried into her own room to find something suitable to wear.

Jack stared at the well-stocked bar. Wanting it. A drink.

He hadn’t craved alcohol like this, not in years.

Abe Glassman was not going to drive him back to drink.

Abe Glassman was not going to destroy him.

He was going to fight—somehow. After all, he’d been raised on the streets, and he’d been born a fighter. No, Glassman wasn’t going to win—not this time.

Too much was at stake.

His career was at stake.

59

J
ack was having a horrible time.

But he was dutifully making the rounds, with a pleasant look plastered on his face.

The Kellers had a mansion on Red Mountain, with two-hundred-and-eighty-degree views of a nighttime Aspen glittering at their feet. The party took up three huge rooms, beginning with a vast stone-floored entryway below a huge skylight. The living room was even larger; it too had stone flooring, and at least a dozen seating areas. There were a hundred people in this room and the dining room, where a buffet that would have done Bel Air justice graced one long, pine-planked wall. The house was typical Aspen, a combination of country and contemporary, stone and wood, huge windows everywhere to show off the magnificent views.

At least a dozen people had mentioned the
Berenger
cancellation, showing just the right amount of sympathy. Half of these dozen people reassured him that with editing even the worst of films could be made palatable. Jack smiled and nodded amiably.

Inside, he was furious.
Berenger
was good—damn good. He knew it. Everyone who had seen the rushes agreed. And he knew he was great in the film—not good, great. Oscar material.

The other half of his consolers prodded and pried into
his feelings, with barely disguised glee, trying to get him to reveal himself. He could feel their panting, bated breath. They wanted him to fail. It wasn’t just Hollywood—it was people. They loved a rags-to-riches-to-rags story. It was the best kind of story there was.

And on top of that, there were a lot of people who were jealous of how big he had made it, and how “fast.” Eleven years of grunt work before having been discovered didn’t count to them. They saw only that he’d had the lead in a series pilot; then eight months later he’d been touted as the Sexiest Man in Hollywood, the network’s Golden Boy. He had signed a new contract (reputed to be half a million a year), been seduced by independents, million-dollar commercials, specials, a lead in a six-hour miniseries. Half of Hollywood hated him and tonight that half seemed to be here.

He spotted Melody looking very bored as she chatted with a couple he didn’t know. Safe territory, and he headed for it, making his way over to her. “Jesus,” he said, taking her aside.

“How is it going?”

“Just great,” he said sarcastically, scanning the sea of people swirling around him.

“Jack, why are we here? Let’s leave.”

“So everyone can think I’m afraid to be seen? No, thanks.”

“This is ridiculous,” Melody said. “Let’s go somewhere quiet and get a bite to eat, just you and me.”

“I appreciate the concern, Mel,” he said, softening. At least she was in his corner. Melody would never desert him. He took her hand and squeezed it.

And then he saw her.

First his eye caught a flash of gold. As if on cue, a couple in his line of vision moved aside. She stood talking to three men.

Belinda.

He hadn’t forgotten her. To the contrary. He’d given her more than a few thoughts since he’d last seen her. To be precise, he had been anticipating returning to the set—returning
to her. To continue where they’d left off, To finish what they’d started that night so many months ago.

The gold knit top she wore tonight was very thin, and it clung to her broad shoulders and full bosom. Black leather pants fit like a second skin. Strong and sexy, and tonight she was going to be his.

She was standing as if poised, laughing now, at something one of the men with her had said. It was her fancy boyfriend, but Jack didn’t give a damn. His heart was thudding, and he could feel a new tightness in his jeans. How had he ever let her get away?

Nothing was going to stop him tonight.

Nothing—and no one.

This was just what he needed in order to forget
Berenger
. In fact, he had already forgotten.

60