CHAPTER
25
DINNER WITH JOEY WAS ANOTHER memorable experience. Lara felt so comfortable with him, it was as if they’d known each other for years and were in perfect synch. Halfway through the evening he reached across the table for her hand and said, “Something’s happenin’ here, Lara, an’ I’m not sure what.”
“We’re falling in like,” she said, smiling nervously, she who was usually so in control.
He smiled back. “So that’s what it is.”
“Maybe.”
They exchanged a long, intimate look.
She held her breath, lost in the moment. Kyle Carson chose that exact time to enter the restaurant with his date for the night, an almost fully clothed Wilson, in a short, orange tank dress that barely covered her ass, and pointy-toed stiletto heels. On her head was the Lara wig.
“Oh, no!” Lara groaned, spotting them and quickly sliding down in her chair.
“What?”
“It’s Kyle—with my body double.”
Joey glanced over to where Kyle and Wilson were being seated at a nearby table. “They seen us?” he asked, squinting across the room.
“I’m not sure,” she replied, dismayed they’d chosen the same restaurant.
“Somehow I gotta feelin’ you don’t want them to.”
“You guessed.”
“Let’s split, then. You slide off to the john, I’ll grab the check. We’ll meet outside.”
“Can we get away with it?” she asked hopefully.
“Yeah. If you go now, before they see you.”
She eased out of her seat and hurried to the ladies’ room, hoping Kyle wouldn’t spot her.
Safely inside, she leaned against the mirrored vanity unit, studying her reflection. Joey had said it first: Something’s happening here, I’m not sure what.
Then she’d given him her flip reply. Nikki would be proud of her—she was coming up with lines!
Once again her heart was racing. This was definitely the start of something; it was only a matter of time. Reaching in her purse, she removed her compact and began to powder her nose.
“Lara!” Wilson’s reflection appeared behind her in the mirror. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, hi,” she said, furious at getting caught.
“Gotta say the scene went great,” Wilson boasted, tugging at her short dress. “Boy! He’s some sexy guy.”
“Who?” Lara asked quickly, hoping she wasn’t referring to Joey.
“Kyle, of course,” Wilson said, fishing in her purse for a pot of jammy red lip gloss and a thick brush. She moved up beside Lara in the mirror and began applying the goo to her overly full lips. “Do you happen to know what his situation is now? Somebody told me he’s getting back with his wife. I don’t think so. Let me tell you, he’s hot to macarena—an’ honey, I’m into dancin’!”
“I’m sure,” Lara murmured.
“Who’re you with?” Wilson asked, dabbing on too much gloss.
“Friends,” Lara replied vaguely. “We’re on our way out.”
“Shame,” Wilson said. “We could’ve all joined up.”
“Wouldn’t that cramp your hot-to-macarena action?”
Wilson laughed. “Right!”
Lara began edging toward the exit.
“See ya,” Wilson called out, heading into one of the stalls.
“Uh . . . thanks for doing a good job,” Lara said.
“Honey,” Wilson joked, “your nipples never looked so good!”
Lara hurried outside to where Joey was waiting. “I got cornered in the ladies’ room,” she said.
“What’re you worried about?”
“I don’t want the whole set talking about us. Everyone knows you’re engaged, and I’d be perceived as some kind of . . . you know . . . fiancée stealer.”
“Fiancée stealer?” he said, laughing at her.
She couldn’t help joining in.
“C’mon,” he said, “I’m taking the fiancée stealer home.”
“I have a better idea,” she said impulsively. “Let’s go for a walk along the beach. It’s something I’ve been dying to do.”
“So how come you haven’t done it?”
She laughed self-consciously. “I’m scared.”
He regarded her quizzically. “What of?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, the dark, the unknown . . . There are times I don’t feel . . . safe.”
“Lara,” he said, his handsome face serious. “When I’m around, you need never be scared.”
She nodded, not sure how to respond.
“Anyhow,” he said, “tonight I’m takin’ you straight home. You’ve got an early call tomorrow.”
“What about our walk?” she asked, disappointed.
“Another time.”
“Promise?”
“We’ll see.”
• •
“I got to fuck you last night,” Kyle said in a low-down, dirty voice. It was early in the morning, and he’d sidled up behind Lara’s chair, taking her by surprise.
“Excuse me?” she said, not quite sure she’d heard correctly.
“And it was goood,” he said, making a smacking noise with his lips. “Finger lickin’ goood!”
She gave him a cold look. “Are you losing it, Kyle?”
“If you can’t get the real thing, go for the substitute,” he said, laughing rudely. “I put my hand over Wilson’s face, and what with the wig and the body, I could’ve sworn I was fucking you.”
“You’re disgusting,” she said contemptuously.
“No,” he replied, not at all put out. “I’m honest.” A short pause. “By the way, I hear we were at the same restaurant last night. Who was your hot date?”
“I have to work with you, Kyle,” she said icily. “I sure as hell don’t have to talk to you.”
Roxy walked over. “What’s up?” she asked, noticing Lara was upset.
Kyle slouched away and began talking to Miles.
“The man’s a pig,” Lara said vehemently.
“They all are.” Roxy sighed, as if it was no big surprise.
“Kyle’s the worst.”
“What’d he do now?”
“Believe me,” Lara said, shaking her head. “You don’t want to know.”
“Oh yes I do!” Roxy replied, always up for juicy gossip.
“How come Wilson got to leave the set last night with the wig?” Lara asked.
“That bitch!” Roxy said, narrowing her eyes. “I told her to come straight to the hair trailer with it, and she never showed up. This morning I found it stuffed in a bag outside my hotel room—and a fine mess it’s in, too. God knows what she did with it!”
“Forget God, try Kyle,” Lara murmured.
“Oh, really?” Roxy said. “And why should I be surprised? He’s dicked everything else that has a pulse!”
Miles came over. “Ready, my sweet?”
“Yes, Miles.” And she thought, Only three more days and I never have to see Kyle Carson again.
Forgetting about her personal feelings, she threw herself into the first scene of the day, hoping to get by with as few takes as possible.
Of course, Kyle blew it as usual, fluffing his lines and worrying about his hair.
At the lunch break she had one of the drivers take her to her house. Cassie was on the phone in the living room, surrounded by boxes, organizing everything for their imminent departure.
“What are you doing here?” Cassie asked, putting the phone on hold.
“Had to take a break; too much testosterone flying around the set,” Lara said, adding a casual, “uh . . . where’s Joey?”
“Out,” Cassie said.
“Did he say where he was going?”
“Nope.”
Lara went into her bedroom, wondering why she felt so disappointed. She’d run home like a schoolgirl with a crush, and now he wasn’t even here. Hmm . . . Never expect anything in life and you’ll never get disappointed.
A
few minutes later, Cassie knocked on her bedroom door. “Lara,” she said, hovering in the doorway. “Is it okay if I say something out of line?”
“Nooo,” Lara replied, smiling faintly because she knew Cassie would say it anyway.
“This Joey guy—” Cassie said, a frown creasing her brow. “What do you know about him?”
“As much as I need to.”
“Granted he’s great looking,” Cassie continued. “But so are a lot of other guys.”
“Your point?”
“Are you sure it’s wise letting him stay here?”
“It’s only for a couple of days,” Lara said defensively. “He’s hardly an ax murderer. Don’t worry, Cass, I know what I’m doing.”
“If you say so,” Cassie said, nodding unsurely. If she had her way, Lara would get back together with Richard.
“I’d better return to the set,” Lara said. “When Joey gets back, tell him I’ll be home later. Oh, and have the cook fix pasta tonight. We’ll be eating outside.”
“It’s done,” Cassie said.
• •
Shortly after Lara left for the studio, Joey had gotten in his rented car and taken a ride. He had to get out of the house. Cassie had her eye on him, and he was aware he hadn’t won her over. She was suspicious, couldn’t quite figure him out. Staying around was dangerous.
He drove aimlessly, stopping at the drugstore to pick up a pack of cigarettes.
Madelaine had not been pleased when he’d announced he was moving on. “Why are you leaving this time?” she’d demanded. “I got you a job, gave you a place to live. What more do you want?”
“I can’t make you happy, Maddy,” he’d said. The oldest line in the world, but it worked every time because there was no answer.
“You can try,” Madelaine had said, near tears of frustration.
“No,” he’d replied. “I’ll only make you miserable, and that’s not good for either of us. I’m fly in’ to L.A.—takin’ a shot.”
“What about my money?” she’d asked, forgetting her tears for a moment.
“I’ll pay it back.”
“When?”
“Keep my check for the movie when it comes in.”
“Don’t imagine you can get around me again, Joey,” she’d warned. “If you go this time—that’s it.”
Yeah. Sure. I can walk into your life anytime I want, and you’ll always take me back.
“I understand,” he’d said.
And so it was over, and he’d hired a car and driven out to see Lara.
He wasn’t surprised that she’d asked him to stay. Some things were meant to be.
CHAPTER
26
EARLY EVERY MORNING, NIKKI LEFT the Malibu house and drove to the Revenge production offices in the Valley. She had her own private office next to Mick’s. He’d surrounded himself with a team of alarmingly young production people, while she’d brought in several thirtysomethings who knew what they were doing, and a very capable line producer. Hopefully, together, they’d make a cohesive group.
Everything was a go situation. The advantage of having Lara in the lead role was that they didn’t require any other star names. Apart from Aiden Sean, the movie was cast with a group of talented unknowns; the financing was in place, and principal photography began in two weeks. Being a producer was very different from merely designing the clothes. Now she was in a boss situation, and it felt good when everyone came to her for answers.
Only another two days and Lara would arrive from New York and could meet with Mick. Oh God! Nikki thought. Either they’re going to hate each other, or it will be a lovefest. She prayed it was the latter.
If only Richard would lighten up. She’d expected him to be proud of her for what she was doing. Instead he did nothing but put her down.
So far she hadn’t met Aiden Sean. Mick kept insisting the three of them should get together, so today they were having lunch.
“I’m depending on you to keep him in line,” she reminded Mick sternly. “Aiden’s your responsibility. If he screws up, it’s all your fault.”
“I got it, I got it,” Mick said, snapping his fingers in the air.
“Any trouble at all and he’s out. I hope you’ve told him that.”
“Don’t havta tell him. He knows.”
When Aiden turned up an hour late, Nikki was shocked at how pale and gaunt he was, with white, almost translucent skin stretched across the fine bones of his haunted face, bleak ice-gray eyes, dusty brown hair pulled back in a scruffy ponytail, and a painfully skinny body decorated with various tattoos. In spite of being a scary presence, he was still attractive in an offbeat, drugged-out way. Like a world-weary rock star—he had the look.
He shook Nikki’s hand, burned-out eyes staring right through her. She noticed that his nicotine-stained fingers trembled when he went to light a cigarette immediately after their introduction.
Mick had assured her that Aiden was straight now and in all kinds of programs—a guaranteed reformed addict.
No true drug addict is ever reformed, she thought. They’re merely taking a long pause before their next fix.
If Aiden had not been an out-and-out junkie for so many years, he could have had a big career. As it was, he’d only managed to survive in the business because he was fiercely talented and always gave an amazing performance, in spite of being half crazy on drugs most of the time. Directors liked to employ him because he always delivered. Producers didn’t because he was a major risk.
The three of them went to an Italian restaurant on Ventura. Aiden slid into the padded-leather booth, immediately ordering a double Jack Daniel’s on the rocks. Nikki observed that he smoked three cigarettes before the salad, even though the waitress, a pretty girl who was a fan, kept informing him there was no smoking in the restaurant.
“Fuck it,” Aiden said, his voice like cracked tar over gravel. “A guy’s gotta have some outlet.” Ice-gray eyes carefully checked her out. “I gave it all up, Nikki,” he said mournfully. “No coke, no speed, no fucking anything. I’m havin’ a drink. Don’t let it bother you, I give up drinking when I’m working.”
“I’m sooo looking forward to being on the set with you two,” Nikki drawled. “Mick doesn’t smoke when he’s working, you don’t drink. Wow—this is going to be a blast watching the two of you control your addictions.”
Aiden smiled—a small, thin smile. “You produced anything before, Nikki?”
“No,” she said, immediately on the defensive. “However, I’ve worked in movies for the last six years. I’ve had plenty of experience.”
“Doing what?”
“Costume designer,” she replied, determined not to let him intimidate her. “And, of course, my husband’s Richard Barry, so I’ve certainly had an education in all aspects of moviemaking.”
Now why had she told him that? He was supposed to be impressing her, she didn’t have to give him her résumé.
“How old’re you?” he asked, sucking on an ice cube.
“That’s an extremely rude question to ask a woman.”
He expelled the ice cube back into his glass. “You ashamed of your age? What are you—thirty-five—forty?”
“Thanks a lot,” she said indignantly. “Thirty-two.”
He chuckled—a chuckle with a mean streak. “Knew I could get it out of you.”
“Why?” she couldn’t resist asking. “Do I look older?”
“Just f—in’ with you, darlin’,” he said casually.
Shouldn’t he be kissing her ass? This was the first job he’d had in eighteen months, and with his track record, he was lucky to get it.
“How old are you?” she demanded, not happy with his attitude.
“Thirty-four goin’ on dead,” he said blankly.
“You’re both old,” Mick said with a crazed cackle. “Now me, I still got it goin’. Last week I had a babe who couldn’t’ve been more than fifteen givin’ me head in the back of my limo.”
“And you’re proud of that
?” Nikki asked, amazed.
Mick sniggered. “It’s a guy thing,” he said with a superior smirk.
“Yeah, probably a guy who can’t get it up,” Nikki muttered.
“Now, now—don’t go getting jealous,” Aiden said, mocking her.
Oh God, she’d been worried about Lara meeting Mick, when this one was ten times worse.
She didn’t want to think about the rape scene. Richard had warned her to be absolutely sure about the people she hired—especially the actors, and she hadn’t listened. Now he’d spend the next seven weeks saying, “I told you so.”
She decided getting too friendly with these two misfits was not a good thing. Distance was good. A cool attitude would let them know who was boss.
As soon as she had finished eating she consulted her watch: “I hate to eat and run, but I have an appointment.”
“Somethin’ I should be at?” Mick asked, mouth twitching.
“No. It’s uh . . . personal,” she said, sliding out of the booth.
“See ya on the set,” Aiden said, looking her over in a way that made her uncomfortable.
She hurried from the restaurant, stood outside on the sidewalk waiting for her car and took a big gulp of fresh air.
There was something about Aiden Sean that spelled trouble.
• •
“I haven’t called Mick, and I don’t intend to,” Summer said defiantly. “ ’Cause I didn’t even like him. Aiden Sean’s the hot one.”
“Then why’d you do stuff with Mick in the back of his limo?” Tina asked, ever practical.
“I didn’t,” Summer answered indignantly. “One sloppy kiss, and then he tried to make me suck his you know what.”
“Did you?”
“No way. I thought going outside with him would get Aiden to notice me.”
“Which it didn’t,” Tina pointed out.
“I was into a stupid fit,” Summer admitted. “Didn’t you ever do anything that even when you were doing it you knew was dumb?”
They were sitting on the beach, wearing minuscule bikinis with thong bottoms, smoking a joint and working on their tans.
“Yes,” Tina said. “When I was a hokey little kid.”
“You’re not so old.”
“I’ve been around.”
“So have I,” Summer said, throwing back her head to catch the sun.