Hollywood Wives - the New Generation (27 page)

With a supreme effort she forced herself to wake up.
Oh, God
!
she thought in a panic.
I am naked, I am in a  strange bed,
and there
is a man sleeping next to me
.

Her head hurt so much she didn't even dare to look to see who it
was. But then she recognized the shaggy beach-blond hair, and knew it
was Brian.

What the hell had she done?

She rolled out of bed, realizing that this must be his apartment. It
was spacious and untidy, with a panoramic view of the city.

She searched around for her clothes, and spotted them scattered all
over the floor.

Grabbing her jeans, she wriggled into them. Then she found her top
and put it on.

Memories began flooding back, including Brian's revelations about
Evan and his fiancee.

Oh, great! Evan had a former fiancee, and that information had made
her jump into bed with his brother. What kind of girl
was
she?

So Evan had kept something from her. It wasn't
that
bad,
it wasn't like he'd
murdered
someone. Brian was much
worse, he'd got her drunk and stoned, then taken advantage of her.

God, how she hated him! He'd done it to get back at his brother.
What a scumbag.

She stared at the object of her fury, still asleep, or passed out,
one or the other. Goddamn it, he'd ruined her life. Now she'd have to
look at him forever and remember that she'd slept with him.

Or had she? She couldn't remember. Although her clothes, strewn all
over the floor, should give her a clue.

She shoved his shoulder. 'Brian,' she said excitedly, 'wake up!'

'What?' he mumbled, flinging his arms out, almost hitting her in the
face.

'Don't you have a plane to catch?' she said.

'Fuck!'
 he muttered, reaching for his watch on
the bedside table. 'Guess I blew that.' Bleary-eyed, he focused on her.
'Christ, Nic, what're
you
doing here?'

'That's what
I'd
like to know,' she said grimly. '
How
did we get here? And
why
did I wake up in your bed?'

'You woke up in my bed?' he said, struggling to sit up. 'Jeez!' A
big grin spread across his face. 'I must be more irresistible than I
thought.'

'Brian, that's not funny,' she said, standing beside the bed,
glaring at him accusingly. 'I don't remember anything. What did you do?
Slip something in my drink?'

'Yeah, like I'd do that,' he said, pushing his long, shaggy hair out
of his eyes. 'Jesus, Nic, I don't remember anything either.'

'Did we, uh… do anything or didn't we?' she demanded.

'How would
I
know?' he
said, yawning.

Dilemma. Neither of them could remember.

'Well,' she said matter-of-factly, 'I don't think we did. In fact,
I'm
sure
we didn't.'

'S long as you're sure,' he mumbled.

'Yes,' she said firmly. 'I'm sure. We simply got carried away at the
rave, came back here and passed out.' She shot him another accusing
look. 'I don't know why you took me there in the first place.'

'To have a blast,' he said, yawning again.

'It might've been a blast last night, but I feel like total crap,
and I wanna go home. Is my car downstairs?'

'How would I know?'

'This is your apartment.'

'True.'

'You're not being very helpful. And you haven't even picked up
Evan's papers,' she said, beginning to panic again. 'For God's sake,
Brian, you'd better get it together. I've got a wedding to plan, your
mom's arriving any minute, Evan's been lying to me, and now this.'

'Keep it down, you're hurting my head,' he muttered, stumbling out
of bed. 'Let's figure this out. Your car must be downstairs, 'cause
that's what we were in.'

'Exactly.'

'Okay, I'll throw on some clothes, we'll go back to your place, pick
up Evan's papers, then I'll get the next plane outta here. After that
we'll forget this ever happened.'

'Right,' she agreed, unable to take her eyes off his rather
impressive naked body. 'And perhaps you can put your pants on.'

He ignored her request and padded into the bathroom.

'You'd better not tell Evan I filled you in on him being engaged
before,' he yelled out, ' 'cause he'll be major pissed, an' I've gotta
work with the asshole.'

'I
have
to mention it,' she shouted back. 'Why should I
keep it a secret?'

'Then get Lynda to tell you. Mommy Dearest has the biggest mouth
going.'

'How do I achieve
that
?'

'Say somebody told you,
not
me,' he said, emerging from
the bathroom in a pair of striped underwear. 'She'll tell you, an'
then
you can take it up with him.'

'Any other secrets you'd like to share with me about my future
husband?' she said, wishing this would all turn out to be nothing more
than a bad dream.

'You'll find out,' he said, pulling on a pair of crumpled pants.

And then she remembered kissing him, and how good it had been.

Maybe they
had
taken it to the next level. After all,
they'd both woken up naked…

She didn't want to think about it.

'C'mon,' she said impatiently. 'Let's do this. I have a wedding to
organize.'

'Well?' Quincy asked, the moment Michael walked into the office.

'Well, what?' Michael responded bad-temperedly. He was in no mood to
be questioned.

'What went on last night?'

'Nothing,' Michael said, sipping from a mug of hot, strong coffee.

'Nothin', huh?' Quincy said disbelievingly. 'You had a meetin' with
Lissa Roman, an' nothin' went on.'

'Oh, yeah, that,' Michael said casually. 'It went well.'

'
What
went well?' Quincy said, exasperated.

'The meeting.'

'You gonna tell me what happened or not?' Quincy demanded.

'Nothing happened, Q,' Michael said, like it was no big deal. 'I met
with the woman, we discussed what to do about her husband's gun, and,
uh… that was that.'

'That was that, huh?' Quincy said, not believing him for a moment.

'Yeah.'

'You're
sure
nothin' happened I should know about?'

'Talking about things you should know about,' Michael said, placing
his coffee mug on Quincy's desk, 'your wife called me last night.'

'
'Amber
called you? About what?'

'About me not getting involved with Lissa Roman.'

'Aw, Jeez,' Quincy groaned. 'There she goes again.'

'What's with this shit, Q? I never said I had anything going with
the woman, an' now I've got your wife on my case. I don't fucking
appreciate it.'

'Sorry about that,' Quincy said abashedly. 'You
know
Amber, she gets carried away'

'Goddamn it, Q—'

'She
likes
Carol,' Quincy interrupted. 'Thinks the two of
you make a perfect couple.'

'Oh, good,' Michael said sarcastically. 'I got your wife's approval.
Maybe
she'd
like to spend more time with Carol.'

'She is. We're havin' dinner there tonight. I've been reminded
twenty times, so you'd better not forget.'

'Why would I forget?' Michael said.

Quincy shrugged. 'Amber said I should remind you.'

'For crissakes, I'll be there. Okay?' he said, reaching for a
cigarette, indulging himself in a habit he was trying to break.

'What's happenin' with you an' her anyway?' Quincy persisted.

'I dunno,' Michael said, inhaling deeply. 'I'm not looking for
anything permanent. Carol's nice enough, and that's about it.'

'She looks sexy to me.'

'The
cleaning
lady looks sexy to you.'

'Amber would
love
to hear that,' Quincy said, roaring with
laughter. 'She's got a real bad jealous streak.'

'If she keeps up the shit she's giving me, maybe I'll tell her what
a pussy-chaser you
really
are.'

'No, man,' Quincy begged. 'You do that an' my sorry ass won't be
worth shit.'

'So get her to stay the fuck outta my business. Okay, Q?'

'I'll try, but nobody ever said bein' married is easy.'

'I want to sue him,' Lissa said calmly, sitting in her lawyer's
Century City office, quite composed.

'Sue him for what?' her lawyer replied.

'Defamation of character. I want to sue him, the television station,
and that blonde who introduces the show.'

'Lissa, I thought you wanted Gregg to go away quietly. Isn't that
our objective?'

'No,' she said sharply. 'I'm fed up with being maligned. It's time
to get in his face, like he did mine. How
dare
he say those
things about me? I have a daughter to think about, a reputation,
and
I have my fans. I will not allow him to get away with saying those
things about me.'

'You're serious about suing?'

'Yes.'

'I've never seen you so determined.'

'You probably haven't, but I'm not all sweetness and light. I can be
a bitch too.'

'I noticed.'

'So find out where he is and sue the son-of-a-bitch. Okay?'

After she was finished with her lawyer, she dropped by her dress
designer's showroom and had the final fittings for her Vegas clothes.
The Desert Millennium Princess Hotel was sending a plane for her on
Thursday, two days before her appearance. That way she could rehearse
with the band and her dancers, and get acclimatized. Since they were
paying her so much money, her one-night show was a very big deal, and
she wanted to be totally prepared.

Claude was flying everyone in on Saturday on his plane.

So far the group included James, Larry and Taylor, Kyndra and Norio,
and Stella and Seth. All her best friends.

In one way she was nervous about her upcoming performance, and in
another she was looking forward to it. Performing on stage was where
she felt most at home, more so than being in front of a movie camera or
in the recording studio. She got the greatest thrill from the surge of
adoration the audience gave her. Live applause
wrapped
her in
love.

Since Kyndra couldn't make lunch, she called James and he happily
agreed to meet her at Le Dome. They sat at a corner table studying
menus.

'Did you see it?' James said, as soon as they'd ordered.

'Yes, I saw
it,' she replied evenly. 'And I'm suing him. I've already met with my
lawyer.'

'On what grounds can you sue?'

'Defamation of character. Seems like a pretty good lawsuit to me.'

The waiter brought James a Martini, and Evian for her.

'You're
taking it well,' James remarked.

'I'm angry, not upset. If Gregg thinks I'm about to fade away and
play the hard-done-by little superstar who doesn't care to ruin her
public image, he's very much mistaken.'

'Good for you,' James said, sipping his Martini.

'I'm
trying
to handle everything,' she explained, 'and I can, as long as I get
Gregg out of my life forever.'

'Nobody can blame you for that.'

'And remind me
never
to get involved with another man ever
again,' she added forcefully, thinking of the strong attraction she
felt for Michael. 'You're all as bad as each other.'

'Kindly do not put
me
in that category,' James said
tartly. 'I'm gay, remember?'

'Gay guys have their trip too.'

'As if
you
would know.'

'I'm your best friend, aren't I? How many times have you shared
outrageous stories about you and Claude?'

'Too many,' James said regretfully. 'And do not forget your promise
to
never
repeat them.'

'I'm perfectly
happy
on my own,' Lissa said. 'No more
involvements. No more falling in love with a handsome face and a hard
body.'

'
And
let us not forget a delicious dick,' James murmured
reverently.

'You always go for the dick, don't you?' she said, with the trace of
a smile.

'I thought that was
you
, dear,' James observed. 'Surely
I'm not mistaken?'

'Very
amusing.'

'Do I sense that you're interested in someone?' he ventured. 'The
moment you say that you're not is the moment I know that you are.'

She managed to look suitably surprised. 'What
are
you
talking about?'

'I know you so well, Lissa,' he said fondly. 'Are you
sure
there's not a little something you'd like to reveal to me?'

'Absolutely not.'

'Shame!'

'Your imagination is far too active, James. You need to get a hobby.'

'Ah…' he crowed triumphantly. 'So there
is
someone?'

'Will you
quit.
'

The waiter brought their order. Grilled swordfish for James and a
chopped salad for Lissa.

'Who is he?' James persisted, picking up his fork. 'Anyone I know?'

She thought about Michael for a moment. He'd run out on her again,
that's twice he'd done that. Maybe she
was
nothing more than
business to him. How sad.

It wasn't good for her ego. She was Lissa Roman, superstar. She
could probably have any man she wanted. Except the one she did want,
which was Michael.

So, you do want him?

No, I don't.

Yes, you do.

After lunch, Chuck drove her home. The usual paparazzi were milling
around outside the gates of her house. TV cameras were also present, a
result of Gregg's new surge of publicity.

'Miz Roman, do you have any comments on your husband's interview
last night?' yelled one of the TV reporters, running up to her car.

She ignored him, staring stoically ahead as Chuck drove through the
heavy iron gates.

Nellie greeted her with a cup of green tea, while Danny bounced
forward with a long list of phone messages.

She checked the list, searching for Michael's name. It wasn't there.