Undercover Heat (21 page)

“Excuse me,
Escort
.”

“Whatever. You fuck for money, and I’m the one paying you. I can call you whatever I want.”

They pulled into the exit off the Roosevelt, and she skidded to a stop in front of the non
e
-to
o
-pleased valet. No one moved until Layla spun around in her seat. “Well, you two were horny, right?”

Harvey didn’t argue the point. He slid out of the car and Jeni followed. Slipping his arms around her waist, he led her up the stairs.

“Is that woman always that crazy?” Jeni asked.

Harvey smiled and answered to her Grand Canyon of cleavage,
“Like a fox, baby. Like a fox.”

Chapter Fourteen

“You fucking idiot!”

Ty tumbled to his bedroom floor, bracing himself for the rapid-fire attack of pillows flying at him. Manny stood over him with his arms outstretched, as if he were torn between taki
ng flight and kicking Ty’s ass.

“What the hell is going on?” Ty croaked, squinting at the bedside clock. “It’s six o’clock in the morning.”

“I knew you were going to get into trouble with that woman. I fucking knew it!”

Ty shielded his eyes from the light pouring through the bedroom doorway. “What do you mean? What woman?”

“That bitch ex-wife of yours!”

“Jesus, pal. Calm down!”

“You read this and tell me to calm down!” Manny snagged a wad of newspaper from his back pocket and tossed it in Ty’s lap. It was front page of the Los Angeles Times. His heart stopped when he read the headline. “Layla Says ‘Ty Must Choose! Me, Carrie, or the Hooker!’”

“Christ.” He gulped then dug through the rest. All the stories were the same. Pictures of him and Carrie with Layla inserted in the middle. His name next to words like “wild boy” and “sex addict” and Carrie’s with phrases like “secret lover.” He couldn’t bring himself to read the actual stories.

Manny launched a pillow out of his path with his foot. “What the hell did you say to Layla last night? What did you do to piss her off?”

“How could I piss her off? I barely saw her.”

“Well, she must have some reason to suddenly drop a bomb like this. And since when are you getting hookers!” He kicked the discarded papers, sending them airborne across the room. They floated like snowflakes to the floor, settling in the space around him.

“I’m not into hookers. You know that. She’s just making it up.”

“Oh yeah?” Manny pulled another page from his back pocket and flipped it into his lap. “Explain this to me then.”

Ty took a long blink then looked down at the paper. It was the entertainment section of God-Knows-What paper and front and center was a picture of the girl he had taken to the VIP lounge the night before. The headline screamed. “He Paid Me, But He Didn’t Have To,” and underneath was a still snapshot from what looked like a grainy home video. A circle was superimposed of two hands, obviously dollar bills being passed between them.

“Jesus Christ, she was a hooker?”

“Oh, man!” Manny thrust his hand through his hair and paced across the space in front of him. “So this is real? You and her, and the money.”

“No, I must have been set up!” He thought back to the night before. They talked, went into the lounge. “Wait a minute. The girl dropped her purse, and money fell out. I helped her pick it up.” He looked up at Manny. “Layla, must have set me up, and somehow she managed to get it on film.”

Manny sat on the edge of the bed and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “You must have done something to set off Layla. Do you have any idea what?”

Ty urged his brain to full function. Last night. He and Layla talked at the bar. The he saw her when he was outside the club, and she was leaving. He cursed and shook his head. “She heard me on the phone with Carrie.”

“You think that’s what it was?”

“How the hell do I know? The woman’s crazy.” Ty pushed himself off the floor and pulled on his jeans, before storming out the bedroom door. “This can’t be that big a deal, can it? I mean this is Hollywood.”

“What do you mean? It’s the front page of the fucking Times! That means you trumped the President and the Lakers as far as public interest.”

He bounded downstairs and glanced out the front window. The gate at the end of the driveway was already crowded with photographers. Even a few news vans had parked haphazardly on the curb. “H
ow far has this gotten anyway?”

Manny stared at him at the top of the stairs with a look Ty had never seen before. Pity, fear, disgust. Any or all seemed to fit. He brought his hands to his hips and shrugged. “You mean, do I think Carrie has seen it? I don’t know, man.”

Ty jogged into the great room and grabbed the remote from the top of the TV. Fortunately, he refurnished the house in the few weeks he’d been back to LA. Not totally, but just enough that they could follow his own downfall on CNN, and have some place to sit ot
her than the cold marble floor.

“If it’s on CNN, you can bet it’s a top story everywhere.” Manny told him.

“I got it.” The big screen blinked to life, revealing an old publicity shot of him and Carrie. In the background a man identified as a specialist in psychological disorders recited the characteristics of a person with sex addiction. “Oh, my God. I can’t watch this.” He handed Manny the remote and buried his face in his hands.

“I don’t know man. Maybe you should.”

Manny changed the channel, this time to a blonde talking head. She gave a spiel on the life and times of Ty Hollister and highlighted her monologue with a picture of him and Layla mid-kiss in their own kitchen. Hi
s body seized with realization.

“Jesus Christ, tell me that’s an old picture, man!”

Ty just shook his head and let the TV explain. When the overly excited voice signed off for commercial break, he braced himself for his friend’s reaction.

“You kissed her, and she took a picture of it?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Well everyone else thinks it is.” Manny rubbed his temples. “This is just the tip of the iceberg, isn’t it?”

“Can you cut the lectures?”

“Look, man, I don’t even know where to begin anymore. It’s not that I have a problem with the publicity. You’re a movie star. It comes with the territory. But your ex-wife is an extortionist. She’s trying to take you down, Ty. A hooker scandal could ruin your career.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like I killed someone. And besides it’s not true.”

“You know as well as I do, that for some reason Hollywood takes sex scandals pretty seriously. Remember Pee Wee Herman?”

Ty fell back on the pillows and groaned. “Okay, you’re right. You win.”

“Look, if you want to get back together with that witch that’s cool. But from what I can see, she’s using the press to manipulate you. She wants money.”

“I don’t want to be with her! She was upset, and I was comforting her.”

“She snowed you, and you bought it.” Manny pressed the “mute” button on the remote and peered down at him. “Listen Man, she’s out for blood. Money is a big part of it, but she’s also after your dignity and your career, and I don’t think she cares who she destroys in the process.”

Ty nodded. He had known it all along, but he didn’t want to believe it.

“What about Carrie?”

The thought of her seeing the news made his head spin, and he couldn’t let her weather this alone. Suddenly filled with purpose, he pushed himself off the couch. “I’ve got to ge
t to Carrie before Layla does.”

“Wait a minute, I though you said that her father was right, and you were keeping your distance.”

“I just want to make sure she knows I’m on her side in case this all explodes.” Ty paused at the top step and checked his watch. “It’s already noon in the east. I’m probably too late.”

“Not necessarily. The news broke too late to make the papers, and she doesn’t strike me as the type who cares about cable news. Now might be a good time to use your clout and use your agent’s private plane. We could probably get there by dinner.”

“Do what you have to.”

“And what about Layla?”

Ty grabbed the cell phone from the night stand and started dialing. “I think it’s time she and I had a chat.”

***

Layla adjusted the jet inside her thigh and eased down further into the water. Her poolside hot tub seemed the perfect place to watch the news coverage, and she was glad Harvey hung around to move the HD set out on the patio. Having people at her beck and call was nice, she’d decided, and as long as the jerk was around scoring dirt like he just told her, she’d have enough money to pay for the extras.

“So where’s Marcy today?” Harvey peeled off his leisure suit jacket and sat down in a lounge chair beside her. “I thought she was going to be around.”

“I told her she should lay low for a few days,” she said. “People are supposed to believe Ty and I are reconciling. If Marcy is hanging around, it might screw that up.”

He was looking at her again. With the wide eyes and the coffee-stained teeth and the greasy hair that stuck to the skin behind his ear. It was a bold move this morning to actually pay him money. But thank God she did, because her ten thousand dollar pay out was rewarded with a mother
-
load of information straight from the executive produce
r of "Undercover Heat” himself.

Talk about juicy gossip.

Harvey watched her closely, his chin practically glistened with drool. Money obviously wasn’t the only thing he was looking for. He wanted action, something neither she nor Marcy would consider on his best day. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun teasing him. She pretended to stretch and slid herself higher in the water. Just high enough for the cool air to harden her bare nipples before his eager eyes.

“What about the stuff I told you about Carrie Ann?” He stammered with
his eyes fixed on her breasts.

“A little at a time, Harvey. You don’t want to shoot your wad all at once. There has to be foreplay. You know what I mean?”

He grunted. “So what do we do now?”

“We wait. If I know my hubby, he’ll be hopping a plane as we speak to try to console the love of his life. Believe me it won’t work out.” She pulled the shades over her eyes and rested her head on the leather cushion behind her. She was almost asleep when her cell phone jumped to life beside her. She grabbed it just before the vibration pushed it over the edge of the tub.

“Hello?”

“You planned this didn’t you?”

She nodded to Harvey, who sat up in his seat. “Ty, I’m so glad you called.”

“Who took those pictures?”

“Damned if I know.” She winked at Harvey, and he winked back. “I’m just as appalled as you are, you know. And a hooker, Ty? Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”

“What are you doing, Layla? What do you want?”

Even his acting talents couldn’t hide the fear she sensed in his tone. She might have even felt bad about it, if it wasn’t Carrie he was worried about. “What I want,” she seethed, “is for you to realize that you owe me. I’m sorry that those stupid pictures have you so riled up, but I’m more concerned with mending my broken heart.”

“I’m on to you, and if
you think you can blackmail me-
”

“Blackmail! Tell me how I’m gaining anything from this?”

“This has to do with Carrie Ann, doesn’t it?”

She bit her lip, trying to
hide the smile from her voice.

“Why would Carrie Ann have anything to do with ending our marriage?”

“Look, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but if it involves exploiting Carrie, think twice.”

“I never thought of it in the first place. And besides, I won’t have to. The truth will speak for itself.” She dragged her finger around the thick layer of bubbles and listened to Ty curse on the other end. Man, it was great to be the puppet master, and she was good at it, too. She bit her lip then leveled her cheap, yet potent shot. “You know, I would have been happy to have a baby with you, Ty. And you and I both know I have a healthy appetite. Food or otherwise.”

“You son of a bitch!”

“Have fun in New York!” She snapped her cell phone shut and clapped her hands together. And they said she’d never make it as an actress.

“I take it that went well
,
” Harvey said, shading the sun with his hand.

“Better than I expected.” She slipped herself back under the water and smiled. “By the way, book us on the next flight to New York.”

“New York?”

“That’s right. I’m in the mood for a little vacation.”

***

Carrie scooped the last of the snow from the walk then dumped the bag of salt on the stone. Thanksgiving weekend had been unseasonably warm and sunny, but now it seemed winter was making up for lost time with a fresh dump of snow. Lizzie hovered in the doorway, with a cup of something steaming in her hand. “You need help with that?” she asked.

“Of course not.” Carrie smiled at her sister. Her socked feet and lack of a jacket told her Lizzie had no intention of helping. Nor should she in her condition. This was her attempt at conversation. The last few days Lizzie had been the poster child for nosiness. Following her around, asking open ended questions that reminded her of a Barbara Walters interview. She disappeared then reemerged in a jacket and boots. Dragging a blanket from the mud room, she perched herself on the porch swing. “I’ll keep you company while you do the stairs if you like.”

“That’s not necessary,” Carrie told her.

“I know, but I thought we could chat and pass the time.” Lizzie took a sip from her cup and kicked an ice chip with her boot. “So how are things?”

“Fine.”