Thrill

  “Darlene told me we’ve got to get paid up front,” Tina said, speaking fast. “The guy has a house account, but Darlene says he’s way behind. And after what I just heard, we’d better make sure we get the cash first.”

  “Well, we can’t just like . . . ask for it,” Summer said.

  “Why not? Those people did.”

  “Who are they?”

  “How do I know?” Tina said, pulling a face. “Probably his drug dealers or something.”

  “He has drug dealers to score pot?”

  “Where do you get it?”

  “Boys on the beach. They’re always so ready to give me anything I want.”

  “Oh, you’re such a little princess,” Tina giggled, “it’s all that blond hair, and those perky tits!”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask,” Summer said. “When you left home—how could you afford to?”

  Tina grinned. “Scammed five thousand bucks from my stepfather’s safe. Figured he owed me something for all the trouble he put me through. Then I took off.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “She didn’t give a shit. She’s an actress.”

  “Famous?” Summer asked, surprised because Tina had never mentioned her mother before.

  “Who cares,” Tina said, defiantly tossing back her curly, brown hair. “I rented an apartment and started doing a few modeling gigs. Then I met Darlene and everything changed.”

  “Didn’t your mom send people looking for you?”

  “Ha! The old bag was thrilled I beat it. No more competition. Besides, I was sixteen and legal.”

  “Wow!” Summer exclaimed, wishing she could do the same.

  “When will you be sixteen?” Tina asked, scooping up a handful of nuts from a dish on the table and cramming them in her mouth.

  “In a couple of months,” Summer said.

  “Then do it,” Tina said matter-of-factly, taking out a mirrored compact and studying her pretty face. “In fact, you can stay with me. We’ll work as a team. Guys really get off on baby pussy.”

  “If only I could.” Summer sighed, knowing that if she vanished, her father would have the whole of Chicago searching for her.

  Norman reentered the room, trailed by the Hispanic man and his sulky girlfriend. They headed for the door. “Next time don’ make us wait,” the woman warned, slamming the door behind them.

  “Bye,” Norman said, with a jaunty wave at the closed door. “Sorry you don’t wanna stay and party.”

  Once they were gone, he focused his attention on the girls. “Okay, ladies,” he crowed, grabbing the champagne bottle. “Everybody naked and in the bedroom; it’s way past gettin’ it on time!”

  “Now?” Summer asked innocently.

  “Yes, now!” Tina said, jumping up.

  “We hardly know him,” Summer whispered, finally coming to the conclusion that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “He’s over twenty-one, famous and rich,” Tina said, ever practical. “That’s all we need to know. Come on,” she added impatiently. “Let’s go do it!”

  Reluctantly, Summer trailed her into the bedroom.

  CHAPTER

  43

  SUMMER WAS CONFUSED. SEX WAS supposed to be getting one over on someone else, and yet Norman was treating her so nicely. After the debasing experiences with her father, she’d always regarded sex as dirty—something you used to get your own way. But Norman wasn’t like that. Norman wanted to laugh and have fun and make her feel good. Not to mention plying her with champagne.

  By the time she and Tina had to do some sex stuff, she was completely giggly and drunk. And it wasn’t so bad. Although being naked with another girl was kind of icky.

  Norman didn’t join in. He sat in a chair and watched, as if he were viewing a particularly engrossing movie.

  Tina kissed her all over, which made her want to giggle even more. And then she had to do the same to Tina, which kind of grossed her out.

  When it was all over she couldn’t wait to wriggle back into her clothes. Then Norman took her to one side, handed her a piece of paper with his phone number on it and said, “Call me. We can do private business. No reason we gotta go through Darlene. Right, cutie?”

  “It . . . it’s not for me to say,” she stammered, staring at his familiar face that she’d seen on the cover of countless magazines.

  He favored her with his famous puppy-dog smile. “You’re a very sweet girl,” he said. “Kinda special.”

  “Thank you,” she said demurely.

  “Make sure you call me soon,” he said.

  “Oh, I will,” she said, eyes shining.

  Then he ordered two cabs and sent both girls home.

  Summer sat in the back of the cab, thinking about how wonderful he was and what a perfect life they could have together.

  He was a movie star and rich. He’d be able to keep her father away from her permanently.

  When she crept into the Malibu house, she spotted Nikki, asleep on a couch in the living room. Trying hard not to wake her, she tiptoed into her room, shut the door and fell into bed with all her clothes on.

  Yes, she could be Mrs. Norman Barton. That would suit her nicely.

  • •

  Lara awoke first and rolled over into Joey’s arms. He groaned in his sleep. She nuzzled against his neck, inhaling his seductive, masculine smell. God! She really did love him.

  He opened one eye. “Wass goin’ on?” he muttered sleepily. “There a fire?”

  “A fire?”

  “Yeah . . . got caught in one once.”

  “When?”

  “Oh, years ago in a . . . hotel.”

  “Guess you escaped.”

  “Guess I did.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “Lucky you.”

  They both started laughing. He threw open his arms and she snuggled into them.

  “Where are you from, Joey?” she asked, lightly stroking his chest. “I was thinking . . . I know hardly anything about you.”

  “Florida,” he answered casually. “Parents dead. No other family. Your turn.”

  “The Midwest,” she replied, revealing as little as he did. “Parents dead. No other family.”

  “Jesus!” he exclaimed. “We really are soul mates.”

  She snuggled closer. “Joey?”

  “Yes?”

  “Let’s make love. Let’s make wild, passionate love.”

  “Now?” he said, surprised at her unexpected boldness.

  “No, next week,” she deadpanned.

  “Okay, okay—sex maniac.” He laughed. “Get me in the mood.”

  “Not a problem,” she said, thinking that Joey was bringing out a whole new her.

  “Got an idea,” he said. “Pretend you’re the maid.”

  “Joey!”

  “Not into role playing, huh?” he teased.

  “Well, I never . . .”

  “Never what, Lara?” he asked, hands reaching for her breasts, tweaking her nipples, making her cry out with pleasure.

  “I never did that kind of fantasy thing,” she said shyly. “You know, role playing and all of that. Richard wasn’t into it.”

  “How many men have you had?” he asked, curiously. “Was Richard your first?”

  “How many women have you had?” she responded.

  “Let’s see . . .” He pretended to think. “Guess you must be number two thousand and one.”

  “Ha!” she said, sitting up in bed, folding her arms across her breasts. “You know women love you. I see them watching you all the time.”

  He rolled onto his back. “Like guys don’t watch you.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “You know something, beautiful? In my world there’s only you.”

  “Really?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Yup. You’re the only good thing that ever happened to me.”

  “I am?”

  “You am,” he said, pulling her down on top of him, then kissing her so hard she thought
he’d split her lip.

  She didn’t care. When she was with Joey she didn’t care about anything except him. He was her life, her love, and she would do anything for him.

  • •

  Nikki awoke at first light, feeling lousy. After throwing Richard out, she had managed to get through half a bottle of vodka—not usually her style, but she’d been forced to do something to relieve the tension. And on top of everything, Summer had failed to come home.

  She got up from the couch and went into Summer’s room. Her daughter was buried under the covers, asleep. She marched straight over to the bed and shook her awake.

  “Wass goin’ on?” Summer mumbled, flinging out her arms.

  “What time did you get home last night?” Nikki demanded.

  “Oh, hi, Mom,” Summer said sleepily. “Why’re you waking me? Isn’t it like, really early?”

  “Yes, it’s really early,” Nikki said flatly. “And you obviously got home really late. Where were you?”

  “Oh, um . . . a party,” Summer said, attempting to gather her thoughts.

  “Whose party?”

  “Friend of mine.”

  “And I thought you were with an enemy,” Nikki said sarcastically.

  “Funny, Mom.”

  “I don’t intend to be funny,” Nikki said brusquely. “I don’t intend to be funny about anything.”

  “So what’s up now?” Summer asked, sensing very bad vibrations.

  “Well . . .” Nikki said, struggling for the best way to put it. “I’ve been told something extremely disturbing . . .”

  “Like, what?”

  “Look, honey,” Nikki said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re young and unsophisticated. People will try to take advantage of you—especially in this town. Don’t live your life too fast.”

  Oh, God! Her mother had found out about Norman Barton and now she was in big trouble.

  “Summer,” Nikki said, taking a deep breath. “I know what you did with Mick Stefan, and it’s not right. First of all, it isn’t the kind of . . . uh . . . thing you should do with anyone, unless you’re . . . uh . . . married. There are diseases out there . . . not just AIDS, all kinds of other terrible things.” She paused, discussing sex with her daughter was excruciating! “L.A.’s a tough town,” she continued, quoting Lara. “There’s a lot of men here who are into using young girls. You’re far too naive to be out on your own.”

  Summer rolled her eyes. “Mom, I’m nearly sixteen.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I just said? I know what you did with Mick Stefan.”

  Summer was silent for a moment. Was getting in the back of Mick’s limo that bad? It wasn’t as if she’d done anything, but all the same she was obviously in deep trouble. “Who told you?” she demanded, wishing she had a joint to lighten the lecture.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Was it Mick?”

  “No. It wasn’t.”

  “Anyway, whatever he said, it’s not true,” she muttered sulkily. “Nothing happened.”

  “I’d be happy if it wasn’t true,” Nikki said. “But since I know it is, here’s my decision. I’ve booked you on a noon flight home to Chicago.”

  That woke Summer up in a hurry. “No!” she shrieked, her blue eyes filling with tears of frustration. “I can’t go back there.”

  “Yes you can,” Nikki said firmly. “And you will.”

  “Why do I have to?” Summer yelled. “Why? Why? Why?”

  “Because you’re only fifteen, and you must finish school and do what your father tells you. Perhaps, next time you visit you’ll behave in a more responsible fashion.”

  “This isn’t fair!” Summer shouted, jumping out of bed.

  “Fair or not, that’s my decision,” Nikki said, her expression grim.

  Later that day she drove Summer to the airport, personally putting her on the plane. In the evening she called Sheldon to make sure their daughter had arrived safely.

  “What did you do to her while she was in L.A.?” Sheldon demanded, sounding pissed off. “She looks dreadful.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Nikki retorted, forcing her voice into neutral. “You sent me a kid who was out of control.”

  “Not when she left here she wasn’t,” Sheldon thundered.

  Nikki held her temper in check. “I’m not the parent figure here, Sheldon, you are. So it’s up to you to do something about her.”

  And that was that. Mission accomplished.

  Her daughter was off her hands, and now she could concentrate on work.

  CHAPTER

  44

  THEY’D BEEN SHOOTING REVENGE FOR five weeks, and although Lara was tired, she was also exhilarated. It was the most exciting film she’d ever been involved with, even though Mick was insane—arms waving in the air, huge glasses falling off his nose, his manic energy dominating the set as he raced around urging his actors to fly. He was truly obsessed, his unbridled enthusiasm encouraging everyone to do better.

  Her life was making the movie and Joey, who since the night they’d discussed commitment, had been there for her all the way—a constant reassuring presence.

  She loved him so much. He made everything easy, cushioning any problems, so that all she had to do was concentrate on her work.

  The people who usually surrounded her were not pleased. Cassie was relegated to sitting in the office at home, unless Joey said it was okay for her to come to the set. Nikki was around, but always busy. So her only close contact was Joey.

  The fact that he was in the movie was a big plus. They even had scenes together, and she loved working with him. They rehearsed at home, running lines, critiquing each other, getting into it. He taught her how to handle a gun, which wasn’t an easy thing for her to learn, because it dredged up so many bad memories. However, with his help, she mastered it, which was good, it meant she’d be prepared for the upcoming scene where she got to shoot Aiden’s character.

  In return she taught him certain tricks to use in front of the camera, and all about lighting. They made love every night, and each time it got better.

  Most evenings they sat up in bed, side by side, watching old movies or reruns of Seinfeld, sending out for food, never feeling the need to go anywhere, perfectly content. Sometimes Mrs. Crenshaw cooked, and on those nights they ate outside on the patio. Other times they rode the horses along the beach, or played with the dogs.

  As far as Lara was concerned, things couldn’t be more idyllic. She was making a powerful movie that meant something to her, and she had a man beside her who was everything she had wanted. The nightmares were becoming more and more distant. It was amazing that they’d found each other.

  She awoke with a flutter in her stomach, because today they were shooting the rape scene. There was hardly any dialogue, mostly action. Mick had told her he planned on tracking the action with three cameras so there’d be no mistakes. Still . . . she couldn’t help dreading it.

  Joey walked in from the bathroom in his new white terry-cloth robe, his dark hair damp and slicked back. He sat on the edge of the bed and said, “Maybe you should smoke a joint—take the edge off.”

  “You know I don’t do grass,” she admonished, thinking how handsome he looked.

  “I know, babe, but, trust me, you might need it today.”

  “Rebecca wasn’t stoned,” she said, shaking her head. “So/can’t be.”

  He got up and went over to the window. “I dunno if I should come to the set today,” he said moodily.

  “I want you there,” she said. “I need your support.”

  “If I havta watch those assholes attackin’ you, I’m liable to kill ’em,” he said vehemently. “Tear the fuckers to pieces.”

  “Honey,” she said soothingly. “You’re so dramatic. After all, it’s only acting.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said, coming back to sit next to her. “I still wish you didn’t have to go through it.”

  “That’s very thoughtful,” she said quietly.

  “
I’m not thoughtful, but thanks anyway,” he said, holding out his arms. She fell into them, and they rolled around on the bed, lost in a tight embrace.

  “There’s somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to tell you,” he mumbled, crushing her until she almost couldn’t breathe. “Somethin’ important.”

  “What?” she gasped, feeling so secure and content in his arms, wishing she could stay there forever.

  “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  “It’s somethin’ I should’ve told you before.”

  “What?” she asked, attempting to sit up.

  “It’ll sound stupid . . .”

  “Will you tell me?” she said, exasperated.

  He hesitated for a moment. “Naw . . . can’t.”

  She struggled into a sitting position. “Yes you can.”

  He stared at her, dark eyes fusing with her brilliant green ones. “Okay . . . okay,” he said at last. “Here’s the deal.” A long beat. “I guess I kinda like . . . love you.”

  She caught her breath, taken by surprise. “You kinda like . . . love me?” she repeated, thrilled that he’d finally said it.

  He frowned. “Hey . . . I told you it’d sound stupid.”

  “Joey,” she said, gently reaching up to touch his cheek, “it’s not stupid.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “How come?”

  “Because . . . since we’re being truthful I . . . I love you, too.” A long pause. “In fact, Joey, I think I’ve loved you since we first met.”

  He broke out in a big grin. “No shit?”

  “Joey! Please! This is supposed to be a romantic moment.”

  “Hey . . . you wanna see romance,” he said, easing her nightgown off her shoulders, fondling her breasts until she began gasping with pleasure.

  One touch and she was his.

  Nikki was right, he did have her hooked sexually, only their relationship was much more than sex. It was caring and loving and being together.

  They made love slowly in the traditional way, and when it was over, she stretched luxuriously, murmuring a satisfied, “Umm . . . that was better than grass any day.”