“I see,” Montana said. “Well, it’s a noon call tomorrow, so I’m glad I didn’t work you too late.”
“So am I,” Taylor said. “I’m on my way to meet Larry. I’ve barely seen him in two days.”
“Going anywhere exciting?”
“The Domingos’ anniversary party.”
“That’s exactly where I’m headed,” Montana said. “Why don’t I get someone to dismiss your driver, and we’ll ride together? You’ll love my new Ferrari.”
It occurred to Taylor that she had not mentioned to Larry that Montana Gray was directing her movie. Montana had a reputation in town, and Taylor was sure Larry might have objected. Like most men in Hollywood, he was threatened by strong women.
What the hell? He hadn’t asked, so she hadn’t mentioned it.
“Great,” she said. “All I have to do is change clothes.”
Montana nodded. “And I’ll dazzle ’em with lip gloss, remove my glasses, let down my hair, and be ready in five minutes.”
“Wow! I’m impressed. It takes most women three hours.”
“Hollywood wives,” Montana said with a slow smile. “I know most of them. I think Neil fucked a few, not only the lovely Gina.”
Taylor couldn’t help herself—she had to ask the burning question. “Is it true,” she said, “that Neil expired on top of Gina Germaine while they were making love?”
“Not exactly,” Montana answered matter-of-factly. “Gina merely precipitated his decline. Neil actually expired in the parking lot of a Santa Monica drinking establishment after an excess of scotch.”
“So the story about him and Gina isn’t the way it happened?”
“He did suffer a heart attack while they were having sex, and some physical thing caused them to be joined together. So, yes, they were hauled off to the hospital—much to the delight of the tabloids. It was not a happy time for anyone. Although I have to say Neil did have his moments.” She smiled at the memories. “He was quite an unusual and brilliant man.”
“You seem so calm about it.”
“You have to remember it was fifteen years ago,” Montana said. “A lot has happened in fifteen years.”
“I know, but still . . . it is a famous story.”
“Well, now you’ve heard the correct version,” Montana said briskly. “It certainly doesn’t bother me. I’ve managed to have a pretty nice career.”
“Is there a man in your life now?”
“Man? Woman?” Montana said casually. “I travel both roads.”
“Oh?” Taylor said, slightly shocked. “I didn’t know.”
“It makes life so much less complicated.” Montana said with a slight smile. “Still want to go to the party with me?” “Can’t wait,” Taylor said.
•
SAFFRON AND NICCI cruised the party.
“I feel like a snake died in my stomach,” Nicci groaned. “And you know what? I haven’t spoken to Evan since yesterday.”
“You mean a whole day has gone by and you haven’t called him?” Saffron said. “Now that’ll make him major suspicious.”
“What do I say to him?” Nicci wailed. “I’m like so not a good liar.”
“Tell him you’ve been having an awesome time without him,” Saffron suggested. “Oh, yeah, then tell him you screwed his brother.”
“Shut up,” Nicci said crossly. “I’m upset enough.”
“No, you’re not,” Saffron argued. “You’re hung over. Hey—what’s a fuck between friends?”
“We’re not friends, and I keep on reminding you, I’m marrying Brian’s brother. Anyway, nothing happened.”
“Was nothing good?” Saffron asked slyly.
“For God’s sake, Saff,” Nicci said, taking out her cell phone. “I’d better call him now. He’s left me six messages.”
“Isn’t that like obsessive?”
“No. When he’s in L.A., he speaks to his mother all the time.”
“So now you’re mommy number two, is that it?”
“He likes to keep in touch.”
“Doncha mean keep tabs on you?” Saffron said.
“It’s not that way.”
“I’ll tell you somethin’, Nic. From what I’ve seen of him, Evan seems kinda uptight.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, staring at her friend.
“C’mon, you know what I mean. The dude’s only thirty an’ acts like he’s sixty!”
“No, he doesn’t,” she said, defending the man she planned to marry.
“Yeah, he does,” Saffron insisted. “He never wants to hit the clubs, or hang with our friends. I’m always inviting you, and you always say, ‘Evan’s not up to it. Evan doesn’t feel like it. Evan’s busy working.’ I mean, what is that? Are you gonna shut yourself away when you’re married to him? You’re nineteen, not some old lady.”
“It’s ’cause our relationship is new,” Nicci explained. “Evan prefers to spend time with me alone.”
“Yeah,” Saffron said disbelievingly. “Keep on foolin’ yourself, girl.”
Nicci found a quiet corner and made the call.
Evan answered his cell phone on the second ring. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.
“I was busy,” she said, feeling incredibly guilty. “Uh . . . y’know, like with wedding arrangements and stuff.”
“And you couldn’t keep your phone on?”
“Didn’t realize it was off.”
“I tried you all night, and God knows how many times today. You’ve ruined my day, you know that?”
“Sorry.”
“Why didn’t you call me when you got up this morning?”
“I was going to, then I figured you were busy on the set.”
“I don’t appreciate this behavior, Nicci,” he said sternly. “I don’t like it at all.”
“Sorry,” she repeated sulkily. He might not like her behavior, but she was getting real pissed at the way he was speaking to her.
“Is that all you’ve got to say for yourself?” he demanded.
“You’re not my freakin’ father, Evan!” she said, suddenly losing it. “And while we’re questioning each other, I heard a rumor you were engaged before me, is that true?”
“Who told you that?”
“I’m asking you if it’s true.”
“It wasn’t really an engagement.”
“Did you give her a ring?”
“Yes,” he answered reluctantly.
“Then you were engaged?”
“I didn’t marry her, did I?” he said belligerently.
“No, and you also didn’t tell me about it, did you?” she responded. “When I asked you if there had been anyone serious before me, you told me, ‘absolutely not.’ ”
“This is not something to be discussed over the phone,” he said.
“No, it’s not,” she said. “And I don’t like being spoken to as if I’m a fucking child.” She punched the END button.
Now he was going to think that Brian had told her. She’d better warn him. She quickly punched out his number. Thank God for cell phones!
Brian’s voice. “Yeah?”
“It’s me.”
“Hello, me.”
“You back at the location?”
“Yup.”
“Did you give Evan the envelope?”
“Yup.”
“You’re gonna hate me.”
“What have you done now?”
“I think I blew it.”
“How?”
“Evan and I had a fight on the phone, and I told him I knew he’d been engaged before.”
“Shit, Nic.”
“I didn’t say it was you who told me. Only in case he accuses you, deny it. What d’you think?”
“I think you’re a crazy girl I never should have gotten involved with.”
“I’m not a girl,” she said furiously. “I’m not crazy, and we’re certainly not involved.”
“What are you—a boy?” he teased.
“Suck it up,
Brian. I’ve taken enough crap for one night.”
“How d’you feel?”
“Lousy. And you?”
“Worse.”
“Good.”
“Good, she says. Thanks.”
“I just wanted to warn you.”
“I’m duly warned.” And he clicked off.
Quite frankly, if she never spoke to either of the Richter brothers again, she’d be a happy person.
•
IT WAS ELEVEN O’CLOCK and the Domingos’ party was still going strong, which was unusual for Hollywood, as most people scampered home at ten, claiming they had to be up early even if they didn’t. In L.A. the perception of being incredibly busy was most important, and there were certain rules to adhere to.
Lissa, however, wanted to go home, she’d had enough. She’d sat through dinner making polite conversation, but now Vegas was on her mind, and she knew she should make it an early night.
When Nicci came over, she was delighted to see her.
“How’re you doin’, Mom?” Nicci asked.
“Surprisingly well,” Lissa replied, thinking how pretty her daughter looked. “Off to Vegas on Thursday.”
“I know.”
“Sorry you’re not coming with me, but you know how I feel about exposing you to the whole publicity circus, and no doubt they’ll be out in force.”
“Saff’s arranged my bachelorette party on Saturday, so I couldn’t’ve come anyway,” Nicci said.
“I’m sorry I’ll miss that.”
“C’mon, Mom,” Nicci said, grinning. “You wouldn’t’ve been invited anyway.”
“Thanks.”
“Like I hardly think male strippers and macho studs dangling it in front of your nose would be your scene.”
“That might be exactly what I need right now,” Lissa said, laughing ruefully.
“No way,” Nicci said. “Oh yeah, and like before I forget, Evan’s mom is flying in. She wants to meet you.”
“Arrange something for when I get back. How soon is the wedding now?”
“Two weeks,” Nicci said, trying not to mind that her mother had forgotten the date of her only daughter’s wedding. “And I’m nervous.”
“It’ll be wonderful,” Lissa assured her, determined to be more involved. “Can I come and see your dress next week?”
“If you want to.”
“Of course I want to.”
They kissed and hugged. Nicci wished her luck with her show, and Lissa said she hoped the bachelorette night was a blast.
“I’ll call you Sunday morning, find out all about the dangling, macho studs,” Lissa said with a smile.
“Thanks, Mom,” Nicci said, grinning. “I’ll be sure to take notes especially for you!”
•
BY THE TIME Lissa tracked James down, he was ready to go, although Claude seemed to be having an excellent time catching up with all his pals in the music business, listening to the Latino band, and admiring the two gorgeous Latino singers, male and female.
“I’m gonna stay a while,” Claude announced. “You an’ Lissa take the car an’ send it back for me.”
“Very well,” James replied, somewhat tight lipped. “Come, Lissa.”
“You’re an amazing couple,” Lissa remarked, as they stood outside the front door waiting for the Rolls.
“What do you mean?” James said.
“The two of you are complete opposites. You’re so English and proper. Well,” she said, laughing lightly. “Not exactly proper, but you know what I mean. And Claude is Mister Music Biz.”
“Sometimes those are the relationships that work the best,” James said mysteriously. “Although I’m not at all thrilled about Claude wanting to stay. He has eyes for the sleazy singer in the tight pants, the one with the eyebrows and the attitude. The poor dear is experiencing a slut night!”
“Are you faithful to each other?” Lissa asked curiously.
“If you’re inquiring as to whether we’re always true to each other, the answer is . . . sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Yes, dear. Do not question me further. It’s a gay thing.”
•
MONTANA DROVE HER SLEEK, black Ferrari extremely fast. She roared up to the front of the Domingo estate, pulling up just as Lissa and James were about to get into Claude’s Rolls.
“Lissa!” Taylor said, frantically waving. “My best friend! How are you?” She jumped out of the Ferrari, ran over to Lissa and gave her a big hug. “I know you must think I’m the disloyal friend of all time, but I’m working. Isn’t that something?”
“Larry told me.”
“Lissa . . . do you know Montana Gray?” Taylor asked as Montana walked over.
Lissa turned and extended her hand to the tall, striking-looking woman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “I’ve heard many good things about you.”
“Thanks,” Montana replied, smiling. “The admiration’s mutual.”
“I hope we get to work together one day.”
“Talk to your agent, I’m available,” Montana said.
“Right now she’s mine!” Taylor interrupted. “And I’m having the best time.”
“See you inside,” Montana said, still smiling. “Nice meeting you, Lissa.”
“Can you believe I’m working with her?” Taylor said excitedly, as Montana entered the house.
“She seems great,” Lissa remarked.
“Not great—amazing!” Taylor enthused. “It’s only a cable movie, but it’s such a moving script. Today we shot my love scene with—guess who?”
“Can’t wait to hear.”
“Sonja Lucerne.”
“Really?”
“The movie’s about two women in love. And it’s powerful, especially the love scenes. Oh, God, Lissa, I am so happy to be back in action. Why did I ever stop?”
“You stopped to be there for Larry,” Lissa reminded her.
“And, speaking of Larry,” James said, joining in. “He’s inside, and extremely pissed you’re not here.”
“Oh, dear. I suppose I should’ve called.”
“That would’ve been a good idea,” James said.
“I’d better go see him. Is it a good party?”
“If you’re into the music scene, you’ll be here all night,” Lissa said. “They’ve got a sensational Latino band.”
“Not that good,” James sniffed.
“The actors are fleeing now,” Lissa said, “Getting ready for their early calls.”
“Sure,” Taylor said, laughing. “Like some of them haven’t had an early call in years, right?”
Everyone laughed.
“As soon as I’m through with this movie, I’ll come over and you can fill me in on everything,” Taylor said, hugging Lissa. “Of course, you do know that I never liked Gregg.”
“Who did?” James said, sotto voce.
“How come everyone’s telling me now?” Lissa said irritably. “I can’t understand why nobody mentioned it before I married him.”
“We did, only you weren’t listening.”
James nodded. “Blinded by love, dear.”
“And probably incredible sex,” Taylor added.
Lissa shook her head. “See you in Vegas,” she said. “And for your information, the sex was not that incredible.”
“Maybe I’ll ask Montana if she wants to come to Vegas,” Taylor said.
“I’m sure Larry will be ecstatic,” James drawled. “You know how he adores sharing your company.”
“He’ll have to get used to it,” Taylor said crisply. “I’ve decided to change my lifestyle.”
“That’ll be amusing to watch,” James said, getting in the car with Lissa. “You mark my words,” he said, wagging a long, thin index finger. “There’ll be nothing but trouble in the Oscar winner’s paradise. Those two are on a collision course, and it won’t be pretty.”
•
BY THE TIME Amber and Quincy left Carol’s apartment, it was past ten. Michael stre
tched and yawned, he was dying to leave too. “I got a real busy day tomorrow,” he said to Carol, who didn’t seem to be listening.
“I was thinking,” she said, picking a rose out of a vase and sniffing it.
“About what?”
“I was thinking that you might want to stay over tonight,” she said, handing him the rose.
“Y’know, I’d love to,” he said, already on his feet. “Only I’ve got one of those days tomorrow, an’ Q’s kinda putting in half days. So, you know what it’s like, everything’s left to me.”
She put her arms around him, running her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. “Michael, Michael,” she murmured dreamily. “I’m falling more in love with you every day. You do know that, don’t you?”
Oh, Jesus! She’d just come out with the L word. Why hadn’t he given her the speech? Screw Quincy and his ideas. This was getting too hot to handle.
“Uh, listen,” he said, wondering how he could make a fast escape without hurting her feelings. “You’re a terrific woman, Carol, but I’ve told you before—I’m not ready to be involved in a serious relationship.”
“I’m not asking you to,” she answered smoothly. “However, I do have to talk to you about something important.”
“You do, huh?” he said, inwardly groaning.
“Will you sit down and have a brandy with me?”
“You know I don’t drink,” he said, irritated that she didn’t remember.
“Sorry—I forgot. Do you mind if I have one?”
Oh, Christ! What was she going to say? More declarations of love?
“Go ahead, I’ll have water.”
“I’ve got that non-alcoholic beer you like.”
“No, that’s okay,” he said, immediately thinking about Lissa and her joke about the beer gut.
Yeah, Lissa. What was she doing? She’d probably hooked up with some handsome stud by now and forgotten all about him.
Carol poured herself a brandy, passed him a bottle of Evian, and sat down on the couch, patting the space beside her. Reluctantly, he joined her.
“I’m glad you enjoyed dinner,” she said.
“You’re an excellent cook.”
“Thanks. My mother taught me,” she said, edging closer.
“Yeah?” he said, wondering how soon he could back off without it appearing obvious.