Hollywood Kids (7 page)

'Sorry to say it,' Quincy said, walking through the musty hallway. 'I gotta strong suspicion they don't live here any more.'

'I'm going into the hooker business,' Cheryl announced over cappuccino and a Danish, carefully monitoring her friend's reaction.

Jordanna raised her blacker than black shades and stared disbelievingly at her friend. '
Excuse
me?'

They were sitting at an outside table at Chin Chin on Sunset Plaza watching hordes of Euro-trash pass by.

'Not street hookers,' Cheryl explained matter-of-factly. 'High-class party girls who get paid a ton of money for doing things they usually do for free. Call girls actually.'

Jordanna frowned, she was used to Cheryl's crazy ideas, but this was ridiculous. 'Have you totally lost your sense of reality?'

'I always thought I'd make a good business-woman,' Cheryl said evenly. 'And now's my opportunity. Donna Lacey's father has summoned her back to London, and she's asked me to take over her business while she's away.'

'And what exactly
is
her business?'

'Where have
you
been hiding? You must have heard about Donna. She's that English director's daughter who supplies girls to several of the studios on a regular basis. Her clients include agents, studio execs, and quite a few movie stars.'

Jordanna sipped her cappuccino, and said without much interest, 'I guess I've seen her at Homebase picking out talent. I had no idea she was a friend of yours.'

We go to the same shrink, and we got to talking.'

'I see.'

Cheryl desperately wanted Jordanna to understand that this was a legitimate business venture she could get into without any help from Daddy. She needed to separate from her family, show the world she had her own identity. 'The thing is she's got the high-class hooker bit covered because important men trust her. Donna's connected - like me. That's why she's decided I'm the perfect person to take over for her.'

'Lucky you.'

Cheryl chose to ignore the sarcasm in Jordanna's voice. 'You see, guys are all the same,' she explained, warming to her subject. 'They either have the original wife who's not into sex any more. Or the sleek little trophy number who, after one year of marriage, conveniently forgets what a blow job
is!
Sex and marriage do not jell - hence Donna's thriving venture. These men are
into
paying for it.'

Why?' Jordanna asked, genuinely puzzled.

'For the same reason they buy the most expensive cars, houses, clothes. Money equals status. They don't want a fifty-bucks-a-night hooker, they want the top-of-the-line latest model, hardly used,
very
costly.'

'You've finally lost it, Cheryl,' Jordanna said, shaking her head. Why would
you
get involved?'

'For a piece of the action.'

'Oh, like you're hard up for money. Your father owns a studio, for God's sake, you can have anything you want.'

Cheryl turned on her, eyes flashing. 'I want to do something on my own for once without taking hand-outs from my family. Right now my only claim to fame is that I went on a date with Eric Menendez in high school. This is my opportunity.'

Jordanna snorted derisively. 'Big fucking opportunity. Running call girls.'

'Don't knock it,' Cheryl said defensively. 'They pull in fifteen hundred a trick, and I get to pocket forty per cent. Of course, I'll have to put aside ten for Donna, but that's OK, I'll still end up with plenty.'

'You'll be a madam, Cheryl. You could get busted for pandering - isn't that what they call it?'

'You've been watching too many of your father's movies. They can't touch me, I'm Hollywood royalty.'

'Oh, really?'

A good-looking blond guy cruised by in a low-slung convertible. He beeped his horn and waved at them. Automatically Jordanna waved back.

Cheryl sat up a little straighter. 'Who's he?' she asked.

'Do I know? Do I care?'

'Come
on
, be a little co-operative, he could be a future client.'

Jordanna stared at her in amazement. 'You're really serious, aren't you?'

Cheryl nodded, her gold ear-rings glinting in the noonday sun. 'You
bet
I am. It's certainly preferable to marking time. I mean, take a look at us - what are we
doing
with our lives?'

The unfortunate thing was that Cheryl had a point. Jordanna realized she'd partied her way through high school; continued to party through two years of college; lived in Paris for six months where she'd learned the language and had a hot affair with a married French movie star twenty years her senior. Until finally she'd returned to LA, moved into her father's guest house and generally bummed around, taking for granted the generous monthly allowance she received. Cheryl was right - what were they doing?

It often crossed her mind that maybe she'd be a lot happier if she could find something interesting to occupy her time. But what? For several years she'd thought about becoming an actress, everyone told her she had the looks, and it was possible she'd inherited some of her mother's talent. Tentatively she'd approached her father, who'd laughed in her face. 'Forget it, skinny bird. You have no idea what a hard business this is, especially for actresses.' He'd gone on to convince her that as Jordan and Lillianne Levitt's daughter she'd have too much to live up to - people would expect the moon and then some. Sadly she'd been forced to agree, even though she still secretly harboured the ambition to act.

She'd considered several other careers, but none had really grabbed her attention, so eventually, like Cheryl, she'd fallen into the pattern of lunching with friends, shopping, hanging out, going to parties, doing drugs. It soon became an addictive lifestyle, although it never made her happy, and it certainly didn't make her father happy. The summer after Fran committed suicide he'd gotten together with Ethan Landers, and the two men had decided their errant daughters needed something more than parties to occupy their vacation time, so they'd put them to work as set assistants on
The Contract
, a movie Jordan was producing for Ethan's studio. Both she and Cheryl had hated every minute of it, although Jordanna had managed to have an affair with the director, Mac Brooks, and that had been quite an experience.

Now she was well aware she was at a crossroads, but she sure as hell wasn't becoming a madam like Cheryl, who was even now leaning over her cappuccino with a self-satisfied expression. 'I've had a brilliant idea,' Cheryl exclaimed excitedly.

'What?' Jordanna asked, suspicious of her friend's brilliant ideas.

'You!' Cheryl said, eyes gleaming. 'You'd make a shitload of money.'

'Doing what?'

'You could be one of my girls.'

'I
love
your insane sense of humour. Any more brilliant ideas?'

'I mean it.'

'Stop it, Cheryl, OK? I have no intention of becoming one of your girls. In fact, there's no way I'm getting involved in this stupid scam of yours.'

'You'll be sorry,' Cheryl taunted. 'Donna handed over her little black book and it's full of important names - aren't you at least curious?'

'Nope.'

'Her book's worth plenty and
I've
got it,' Cheryl said.

'How fortunate for you,' Jordanna replied with absolutely no interest.

'I now know everything about the players in this town,' Cheryl continued with relish. 'What turns them on - and off. The type of girls they like, and the ones they've had. All their kinky turn-ons. It's kind of a thrill discovering what everyone's into.'

'I'm sure it is,' Jordanna said, wondering if Cheryl had totally lost her mind. 'I always had a feeling voyeurism was your thing.'

'Donna's filled me in good. She has plenty of girls working for her, and when she needs new ones she simply goes on a recruiting spree.'

'Sounds like the Army.'

Cheryl was still on a roll. 'She finds them on Rodeo Drive, Melrose, at health clubs, restaurants, parties. According to Donna gorgeous girls are everywhere, and they're all tempted by the money. I mean, we're talking big bucks. She discovered one girl checking out the jewellery in Pepe, and the next day she had her on a private jet to Paris with five thousand bucks in her purse for one simple day's work! Nobody's going to turn down an extra thousand or two. And these girls get to go on great trips, just like the one in Pepe, who incidentally ended up marrying an extraordinarily rich Arab.'

Jordanna couldn't believe Cheryl was actually serious. She'd done some wild things in her time, but this was way out there. 'I'm delighted you've found your vocation,' she said coolly. 'But it's not something I would even consider getting into.'

'You're chicken shit.'

'How about
you
? Jordanna challenged. 'Are
you
planning on putting out for the right price?'

'
Please
!' Cheryl replied scornfully. 'Madams don't have to.'

'I didn't think so,' Jordanna murmured, clicking her fingers for the bill and watching as the good-looking waiter hustled it over.

Another out-of-work actor. Her weakness.

Idly she wondered if she'd had him. Maybe in her drug days.

'You'd
love
being a hooker,' Cheryl continued, still trying. Think of the illicit thrill!'

Jordanna shook her head. 'I've never seen you this hyped.'

'Keep watching,' Cheryl said happily. 'I'm about to be bigger than my daddy any day!'

Sharleen and Mac were on the outs, they'd hardly spoken for almost a week now, ever since they'd arrived home from the screening at Jordan Levitt's and found the police on their doorstep.

Sharleen blamed Mac's two sons for the trouble. Mac was equally convinced that Sharleen's sixteen-year-old daughter was to blame. Whichever of their offspring was responsible did not make much difference - the fact was there'd been a drug bust in their house and Sharleen was mortified. 'I'll be all over the tabloids,' she wailed.

'It won't be the first time,' Mac replied, remembering when she'd been labelled the other woman in his very public divorce. At the time he'd been married to Willa, the daughter of famous director William Davidoss. Willa had been his ticket to the big time - he'd started out as third assistant on one of her father's movies in New York, and ended up moving to California and marrying his daughter. Two years later - with a little help from William - he'd directed his first movie.

When he and Willa had separated, the tabloids had gone into a frenzy, because some big mouth had alerted them about his affair with Sharleen. For months they'd lived with the lurid headlines, right up until he'd divorced Willa and married Sharleen. Thank God they hadn't delved into his background, although it would be pretty difficult to find out anything about him, he'd covered his tracks well.

Sharleen was not to be appeased. 'That was then - this is now. I have a reputation to protect,' she said primly.

When Sharleen said things like that, he wasn't quite sure what she meant. Sharleen was a movie star for chrissake. Movie stars were
supposed
to have reputations!

'Calm down,' he told her, in between trying to find out exactly what had taken place at his house. Kyle and Daniel, his sons, were close-mouthed. Suzy, Sharleen's daughter, was sulky. The three of them were silent on the subject of who invited the drug dealer - a twenty-something rich kid - to their house.

'He's a friend of a friend,' Kyle finally admitted. 'We had no idea he was a dealer.'

Sure. They'd had no idea. Until the rich kid was arrested by an undercover cop posing as a high-school drop-out just after he'd sold a gram of cocaine to Susy's best friend, an angelic-faced blonde teenager.

'It's your fault,' Sharleen informed Mac.

'Why is it always
my
fault?' he'd asked patiently.

'Because you never discipline those boys. You allow them to run wild.'

'It was Susy's friend making the buy,' he'd pointed out.

'That's right, change the subject.'

At Sharleen's insistence he'd arranged for his sons to visit their mother for a few weeks. Some punishment. Lounging around Hawaii surfing and getting tans.

His ex-wife had moved to the big island shortly after their divorce became final. Her father had made sure she used a killer lawyer who'd scored her an enormous settlement, with hefty alimony payments unless she remarried. Plus child support until the boys finished college.

Like she needed the money, Willa had trust funds coming out her ass.

Big chance she'd ever remarry. He was screwed. The moment all financial matters were in place she'd moved her girlfriend in, a plump redhead with smoky eyes and soft hands. The ex-Mrs Mac Brooks was a dyke, and there was nothing he could do about it except continue paying big bucks for the rest of his life.

He
was
able to get custody of his boys. This didn't thrill Sharleen, who went to great lengths to inform anyone who'd listen that they were merely her stepsons.

Mac was not happy about the situation. Getting divorced was one thing. But getting divorced and then having his ex set up home with another woman was downright insulting. Especially when
he
was paying for their cozy little set-up. Somehow he imagined Willa's sexual turnaround reflected on him, and not favourably. Hadn't he satisfied her? Wasn't he an incredible lover as women had always told him?

'Baby, you're the best,' Sharleen crooned on a regular basis. She was a very intelligent woman when she wanted to be.

So Kyle and Daniel were banished to Hawaii, and Suzy was forbidden to see her angelic-faced girlfriend ever again. Case settled. Mac could get back to concentrating on his next project.

He had a lunch-time meeting with Bobby Rush regarding a script Bobby had sent him.
Thriller Eyes
was an interesting piece of material - a psychological sexual edge-of-the-seat psycho drama about a hero and a villain. The twist was that the villain was a beautiful psychotic young woman, although the audience didn't find out until the end of the movie.