Thrill! (55 page)

"Me and my friend,"

he replied, indicating a shorter version of himself hovering nearby.

"Are you paying for it, honey?"

Tina enquired with a put-down smile. He backed off quickly. She shrieked with laughter.

"Do I know how to get rid of them or what?"

she said triumphantly.

"No guy likes to think he has to pay. The real smart ones are the movie stars and the big businessmen. They know it's the only way to go."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. And don't you forget it. If I'm gonna train you you'd better start listening to me."

"Oh, I will,"

Summer murmured.

"I want to learn - honestly I do."

Anything was better than going home to her father. And if Tina was prepared to teach her, she'd be the best pupil ever.

M

387

^^_^_^fc LARA KNEW what she had to do and she didn't ^^fPIPwtf* falter. Everyone thought she was so sweet and nice, but when she made up her mind, there was very little anyone could do to change it. She'd been a doormat over half her life - filled with guilt over her family's death; serving Aunt Luq"

like a maid; a slave to Morgan Creedo. Until finally she'd gathered her strength and found her vocation - pursuing it with a steely passion. Now today everything seemed to be falling to pieces. First the revealing pictures spread all over a cheap tabloid. Then Joey.

Nobody could take her success away from her. It was her achievement in spite of horrible odds. And nobody was ever going to use her again.

1 \a

ft ft ft

"Tour husband's dead,"

the nurse said, her expression a mixture of fake sympathy and Why do I have to give people bad news when it's the doctor's responsibility?

Lara Ann nodded. Bad news was nothing new; besides, during the four years she'd been with Morgan, she'd grown to hate him. He was no knight in shining armour come to save her from the rigours of working for Aunt Lucy. He'd turned out to be a shiftless, controlling bully - with minor talent - who'd never so much as kissed her.

They'd been married almost four years, and she was still a virgin, because Morgan only required her to service him with her lips. Once,

388

when he wits very drunk, he'd told her why.

"My mama, warned, me thatputtin"

it in a woman's pussy weakens a man,"

he'd said with an embarrassed snigger.

"Makes him no better than a stallion servicing a mare. I come inside you -you got me trapped for ever."

She hadn't argued with him. By that time it was the last thing she wanted him to do.

After the nurse informed her of Morgan's demise, the doctor appeared. He was young, hardly more than a student, and quite serious.

"You had a slight concussion,"

he said, studying her chart.

"Nothing serious. In fact, I'm letting you go home."

"I don't have a home,"

she said in a low voice.

"My home was the trailer behind the car. It's gone."

"I'm afraid so,"

he said.

"You're lucky to have survived. If you hadn't been asleep on the back seat..."

My head would've come flying off along with Morgan's, she thought. Gallows humour. She was allowed.

"Do you have family?"

the doctor asked.

"No,'she answered softly.

"Ihave no one."

"No one,"

he repeated, clearing his throat.

"That's right."

He looked into her appealing green eyes, and before he could help himself he'd offered her the use of the couch in his small apartment for a few days, until she decided what she was going to do.

"I won't have sex with you,"

she said.

"It never occurred to me,"

he lied.

And so she moved into his place with only the clothes she'd been wearing at the time of the accident, and her purse, which contained M of their savings -five hundred dollars - and the phone number of Elliott Goldenson, a producer Morgan had said was prepared to give her a job in the movies. She wasn't quite sure she trusted Morgan's judgement - he hadn't even met Elliott Goldenson - but she called anyway, and a male secretary gave her an address in Hollywood and told her to come right over because Mr Goldenson was auditioning.

She decided this was a sign, and hurried to the address as fast as she could get there.

When she walked into the waiting room, she knew she was in the

389 wrong place. A gaggle of blonds everywhere, yammering away at each other. They all had one thing in common - enormous breasts.

A young man with a bright red ponytail sat behind a large desk strewn with pictures.

She went over to him.

"I'm Lara Ann Creedo,"

she said.

"I called and you told me to come over. Am I in the right place?

He looked up at her.

"Honeybunch, you couldn't be more wrong."

"This isn't the place?"

she asked, dismayed.

"You're not the kind of girl he's looking for,"

he said, pursing his lips.

"Why are you here?"

"Because you said Mr Goldenson was auditioning."

"I know. But what fool gave you this number to call?"

"My husband."

"Oh,"

he nodded knowingly,

"one of those deals."

"Can I ask you something?"

she said, leaning across the desk.

"Ask away."

"If I'm not right for this role, is there another one coming up?"

He spoke in hushed tones.

"Sweetie bunch, you're in the wrong place. Mr Goldenson makes porno movies. I don't think that's what you're looking for."

She stepped back.

"Oh!"

she said, startled.

"But ... my husband ... he had this number. He said I'd be perfect."

"Hmm ... I'd have a word with your husband if I was you. Anyway, don't look so disappointed, at least I didn't send you in there to strip off in front of a bunch of dirty old men."

1 wouldn't do that anyway."

"I take it you're new in town?"

"Tes."

Well, precious, this is my advice. Find yourself a legitimate agent, and start doing the rounds. You're certainly beautiful enough."

"How do I find a legitimate agent?"

"Look in the yellow pages. Go to William Morris, ICM - one of the big ones."

"Who's William Morris? Do you have his phone number?"

»on

He threw up his hands in despair.

"The girl is a total novice. William Morris is a huge agency. Don't you know anything?"

"Iguess not."

"I suggest you go back to your husband and bite his butt for sending you here."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"He's dead."

"Oh, my God - it's a sob story! Please, whatever you do, don't make me feel sorry for you. I'm sorry enough for myself, having to do this shitty job. The only reason they employ me is because they know I'm not about to hit on the girls. Girls not being my style, if you know what I mean."

"Areyou .. .gay?"

"Honeybunch, do rabbits mate?"

And so a friendship was born. His name was Tommy, and two days later she moved out of the doctor's apartment and into Tommy's place above a restaurant on Sunset Boulevard.

He was mother, father and brother to her. He guided and protected her; sent her to acting class; introduced her to a proper agent; fed and clothed her; counselled her on all subjects; got her a job as a waitress while she was waiting for her first break; and made sure nobody took advantage of her innocence.

And in return she nursed him after he got sick with AIDS, and sobbed at his funeral when he died ten months later.

A week after his death she landed her first big movie. Tommy never got to see her become a star.

ft ft if

Lara sighed deeply, remembering her friend Tommy, and all the fan they'd had. It wasn't fair he'd been taken from her, but it had made her all the more determined to succeed. Tommy had given her warmth and comfort and most of all - the right guidance on h°w to handle herself in Hollywood. He'd taught her well. He'd also taught her never to put up with any shit.

391 She recalled the day she'd left Richard - the day she'd actually caught him getting a blow job, and he'd still thought he could talk her out of leaving.

Richard and his charm. In that respect he was exactly like joey, they both had the same kind of masculine power they thought made them irresistible to women.

Well, when it really mattered, she could resist. And even though she loved Joey - she did not wish to continue in a relationship with a man who was a fake. He'd used her. Invented a fiancee, and reeled her in like a fish. God! He probably thought she was so easy. Easy and desperate for a man. Poor little frustrated movie star. How he must have laughed behind her back.

Thank God she'd found out before marrying him. What a mistake that would have been.

And yet, she thought sadly, what am I going to do without his strong arms to hold and protect me? His insistent lips that brought me such unbelievable pleasure?

Was everything about him a lie? She'd never bothered to find out. It hadn't mattered. But now that she knew, it did.

Maybe you should listen to his side of the story, her inner voice suggested.

Why? So he can lie his way out of it exactly like Richard used to?

No. She was too wise to go down that street.

As soon as Cassie arrived, she was ready to go. She'd completed her final scene, promised the cast and crew she'd see them later at the party, and managed to avoid Nikki - whom she didn't feel like confiding in.

"I brought my car,"

Cassie said, her cheeks flushed.

"Thought if I called the limo company, people could easily track us."

"Good thinking, Cass,"

Lara said, stuffing her golden hair beneath a Laker's baseball cap, and covering her eyes with Jackie Kennedy blacker-than-black shades.

Cassie was dying to ask what was going on, but she didn't, because she knew her boss well enough to understand that she'd explain the situation when she was ready and not before.

"What did you tell the Crenshaws?"

Lara asked, getting into the passenger seat and fastening her seatbelt.

"Nothing,"

Cassie replied, starting the engine.

"I figured if you wanted them to know anything you'd call them later."

Lara nodded. At least she could always depend on Cassie.

393

0^^__Jfl JOEY DRESSED carefully in a black silk Armani X^flM^"** shirt, black slacks and a classic Armani blazer. Lara liked him in black, plus it suited him dressing against his looks. Casual yet hot.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror and remembered what he'd been doing a year ago. It wasn't a good memory - caused him sleepless nights and hot sweats. Thank God it was behind him. One day he'd tell Lara. In fact, when they were married he'd tell her everything finally cleanse his soul to the one person he knew he could trust.

She hadn't called, which meant she was expecting him to meet her at the studio. Cassie had obyiously forgotten to mention he was trying to get through on her cellphone, because the damn thing was still turned off.

He missed her, which was pretty ridiculous considering they'd only been apart one day.

That morning he'd held her in his arms stroking her into a state of almost orgasmic ecstasy.

"I'll finish the job later,"

he'd joked.

"Since when did it become a job?"

she'd laughed, flushed and breathless.

"You're gonna have to wait,"

he'd said, kissing her soft inviting lips.

"But trust me - the wait'll be worth it."

She'd smiled.

"Oh, I know that."

Then he'd lain on top of the bed, hands propped behind his head, watching her dress.

She was so goddamn beautiful. How did he ever turn his life around and get this lucky?

Lara Ivory. His Lara.

Plucking the car keys off the dresser, he headed for the studio, a happy man.

fr & &

It started raining lightly as Cassie drove down Sunset toward the Pacific Coast Highway. All day there'd been storm warnings on the radio, but this was the first sign of bad weather.

Lara closed her eyes, agonizing over whether she was doing the right thing. As she relived the progression of her romance with Joey, she realized it had all been based on lies. He'd made up a fiancee, never told her about the money he'd taken, hadn't told her about living with Madelaine, hadn't told her anything really.

But then . . . what had she told him? Exactly nothing.

So, they were even. It was great fun, but it was just one . . .

"Another half-hour and we're there,"

Cassie said, after she'd been driving for a while.

"I hope this rain stops. People in LA don't know how to drive when it rains here."

"I'd forgotten how far it is,"

Lara remarked.

"You wanted isolated."

Cassie was right. She enjoyed being away from everyone and everything. Especially now.