Jackie Collins, page 54
"I wouldn't expect you to do anything else."
"Lauren, you're my kind of girl."
Oliver came home that night with raised eyebrows. "Are you insane?
You're asking for more money than a top model."
"Sweetheart, this was your idea, not mine. If Marcella would like me
to represent them, then this is what they'll have to pay."
He shook his head. "I didn't realize I'd married a tough
businesswoman.
"It wasn't my idea to be the Marcella girl, kindly remember that."
"I've talked with the client," Oliver said. "They have my
recommendation. I've also given them several other suggestions. The
final decision is theirs."
"Good," Lauren said. "Because I don't care either way."
Although deep down she did. Deep down she knew that she wanted to be
somebody. Just like Nick Angel was going to be somebody. She didn-'t
want to be left behind. She wanted to be just as important as he was
destined to be.
you need a publicist," Frances said.
"What for? I'm getting plenty of publicity. Carlysle and I are all
over the columns."
"You need somebody to shape an image for you. Give you a profile -a
very high profile."
"Forget it. I don't have the money."
"What did you do with the money you got for the option agreement you so
foolishly signed against Meena's advice?"
He shrugged. "I had a friend in trouble. That was the deal."
"How sweet," Frances said, dragging deeply on her cigarette. "He has a
kind heart."
"I always thought it was cool to help out friends," he said, throwing
himself on her couch. "Isn't that the way it's supposed to work?"
"You really are a genuinely nice person," said Frances, sounding
surprised.
"So I guess you've got a publicist you want to recommend," he said,
reaching for a cigarette, deciding it was his turn to blow smoke in her
face.
"You have to admit, you do like my recommendations," Frances replied.
"Your new photographs are excellent, and Meena is doing well for you.
Of course, she could do better if you hadn't tied yourself up with that
ridiculous option deal."
He shrugged. "What's so ridiculous about signing for another movie? A
couple of months ago I couldn't have gotten arrested. Why the big
fuss?"
"Learn to understand this business," Frances said sternly. "From all
reports, when Night City comes out you're going to be hot. When you're
hot is the time to act. But since you've tied yourself up for another
film, Meena cannot do anything for you."
"Yeah, Frances, but I'm not a total jerk. I don't have to do the film
immediately. There's a clause in there that says I can do something
else if they're not ready by a certain date. It's cool."
"So now you've decided to be your own lawyer?"
"Hey, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Can you recommend a
good lawyer?"
"There's a cocktail party tomorrow night," Frances said. "You'll take
me. There'll be several top lawyers there. You can quietly audition
them."
"I don't know if I can make tomorrow night."
She looked at him sharply. "Nick, I don't expect you to forget our
deal so early on in our relationship."
"Okay-I'll make it," he said.
He'd only gotten back to Los Angeles the day before after nearly two
months shooting in New York, and although he'd spoken to Annie on the
phone he hadn't seen her. He'd promised to take her out the next night
for a welcome home dinner. Now that Frances required his company he'd
just have to switch nights on her.
Frances wrote down the name and phone number of a publicist and handed
him the paper. "Go see her," she said.
"Another woman?"
Frances narrowed her flinty eyes. "What's the matter? Don't you like
dealing with women? Believe me, dear, they'll look after you much
better than men.
Like she was telling him something new.
Marik, Cyndra had decided, was too nice for his own good. He treated
her like a princess. Initially she'd lured him into bed-although he
didn't take much luring-to get him under her power. Now she had him
where she wanted him and more besides, because not only was he
producing her single, but he was also her attentive and caring
companion. The trouble was she didn't want a companion. She was
perfectly happy making it on her own. Being married to Reece had been
enough companionship to last her a lifetime.
Marik was a California boy. He wanted her to meet his mother and
sisters. She said no until she ran out of excuses, and then she
accompanied him one sunny Sunday afternoon. His family lived in the
Valley and they were all equally as nice as Marik.
Unfortunately, he was in love with her. She liked him, but she
certainly didn't love him.
Gordon Hayworth was another matter. Every time she saw him she
experienced exquisite little chills running up and down her spine, and
a nervous stomach that drove her crazy. He dropped by the recording
studio when she was making the demo and through the glass she spied him
talking to Marik. She wanted to stop everything and go over just to be
near him.
Casually she asked around. Usually the secretaries had the scam on
everyone, but Gordon had no scandal attached. He was married to a
beautiful ex-model and never came on to anyone else.
Gordon Hayworth had a presence and dignity she'd never observed in a
man before. And she wanted him almost as much as she wanted a big
career.
Marik was excited. The song he'd found for her was called "Child
Baby," written by a couple of up-and-coming songwriters. He'd put
together a backup ensemble that really complemented her voice, and the
arrangement was a killer.
"Reno Records is behind you all the way, baby," he told her.
"When this little old record hits the airwaves, people gonna find out
about you big time!"
The next weekend Marik wanted to take her to Palm Springs. He was so
anxious to please, she didn't want to disappoint him, even though she'd
sooner not have gone.
They drove down on Friday night in his white Corvette and stayed at a
small hotel set against a backdrop of magnificent mountains.
"What was the story with you and that Reece guy?" Marik asked as he
unpacked his overnight bag.
"Why?" she said carefully, unfolding her clothes.
Cause I'm interested. He said you were married. True or false?"
"No, we weren't married," she said quickly. "We lived together for a
while. I was young and stupid-I didn't know any better."
She didn't care to tell him the truth. If he'd known she was married
to Reece it may have affected their business relationship, not to
mention their personal one.
Later that night they sat outside in the bubbling Jacuzzi gazing up at
the stars.
"This is oh so very very nice," Marik said, stretching his legs.
"Yes, it's really pretty," she replied.
"No, baby-you're really pretty."
She threw her head back, her long hair trailing in the bubbling
water.
"So, tell me, Marik, how long have you been with Reno Records?"
"I've kinda been around Reno for five years."
"Where were you before that?"
"I put in time at a couple of the big companies. Produced some damn
good artists. Then Gordon came along and offered me this job.
It was a chance to do bigger and better." He laughed. "Gordon kinda
stole me away.
"I expect he's good at that," she said.
His hand touched her leg. "Yeah, Gordon's a powerful personality.
He's sure heavy on charisma."
"Why don't you tell me about him, he seems like an interesting guy.
"He had a small record company in New York, sold it for mucho bucks and
moved out to L.A. about ten years ago. Then he started Reno, and the
rest is a big success story."
"Is he married?" she asked, knowing full well that he was.
"Yeah."
"Who's his wife?"
"She was a top model but gave it all up when they married-Gordon didn't
want his wife working."
"Are they happy?"
"Very happy." His hand snaked up her leg. "Hey, baby-what's with all
the questions?"
"I should know who I'm working for."
"Stick with me, girl, and you don't have to know nothin'!"
He held open his arms and she moved into his bubbly softness.
California was so health-conscious, she wondered if Marik had ever
thought about attending a gym. He should firm up his pecs, work on
those stomach muscles. She didn't want to hurt his feelings by
asking.
He was a good kisser, so she leaned back and let him have his way.
Marik was taking her all the way to stardom-why fight it?
Bridget Hale, Nick's new publicist, reminded him of a thinner, less
cheerful Meena. What did these women have-a club? At least she seemed
to know what she was doing, she'd already set him up for two interviews
later in the week-one with a news service for a piece that would run
throughout the country, and one with a popular entertainment weekly.
He'd done a few interviews on the set and found it to be kind of a kick
talking about himselœ Bridget trained him in the ways of the world.
"We have to make up an interesting background for you," she said. "I
don't know where you're from and I don't particularly care. We'll
start from zero.
"I'm from the Midwest," he said.
"No, I don't think so. Something foreign will do. Your father was in
the CIA-you were raised in China. Let me work on it."
"You gotta be kidding."
"Another point to remember-never tell them your age. Let them guess.
And Hollywood loves a loner. The more mysterious you are, the
better."
"How come?"
"Because when you're on the cover of Time we don't want some nosy
journalist visiting your hometown and checking with all your old
friends. If we can maintain it, mystery is the best, remember that."
"So what do I say when they ask me?"
"That you don't believe in pasts, only futures."
He laughed. "Sounds good to me."
"Frances and Meena are very high on you," she said. "And their praise
does not come easily."
"They haven't seen me on film yet."
"Frances and Meena hear everything first. If you're good in this
movie, then they're aware of it."
He knew he should visit Joy, but he also knew she'd do nothing but
bitterly criticize everything he'd done, and he wasn't in the mood for
that. While he was prepared to acknowledge her help in introducing him
to Frances, he was not prepared to listen to her negative comments. He
wanted to feel good about himselœ He was finally on the road and the
main thing was to enjoy it.
He'd gotten Joey out of the hospital in New York and now he was safely
stashed in a drug rehab clinic somewhere in the middle of the
country.
As soon as Joey was through with his treatment he'd arranged for him to
come straight to L. A.
In the meantime there was Annie to deal with.
They had dinner at a little restaurant near the Santa Monica Pier, and
talked about what they'd both been doing. Toward the end of dinner she
leaned across the table and fixed him with a penetrating stare. "Nick,
am I going to move in with you?" she asked. "Is that what we're
planning?"
He hadn't been planning anything of the sort, but it was obviously what
she expected. He stalled for time, finally saying, "Uh, you mean you'd
give up your apartment?"
She nodded. "If we're going to be together it seems only sensible.
Why waste money paying rent on two places?"
The last person he'd lived with had been DeVille. Toward the end he'd
felt beyond claustrophobic. "Are you sure it's what you want?" he
asked, hoping she'd say no, but knowing she'd say yes.
"Very sure," she said firmly, just as he'd predicted.
He knew if he backed away she was going to start with the I'm going to
the cops crap again. He couldn't afford to take the risk.
"If that's what you want, you should move in."
"Are you sure, Nick?"
He took her hand and squeezed it. "Yeah, course I am."
What a lie. He liked Annie as a friend. He didn't love her, and the
last thing he wanted was to live with her.
Trailing Frances around another industry party was the same old
story.
However, he felt a little more secure. He'd starred in a movie and a
couple of people seemed to know who he was even though the movie hadn't
come out yet.
He felt even more secure when he bumped into Carlysle. He'd missed the
on-the-edge excitement of being with her. This was a different
Carlysle from the girl he'd known in New York. She wore a neat little
dress with a Peter Pan collar and a sweet angelic smile.
"This is my mother," she said, introducing him to an untidy-looking
woman who practically ignored him. "Mommy, this is Nick Angelhe
starred in Night City with me. Remember? I told you about him."
"Oh," Mommy said. "So you're Nick. I hear you've done a good job."
"I'm hoping," he said.
Carlysle did not make a pass at him. Carlysle was a different person
when she was with Mommy.
After the cocktail party Frances took him to dinner. "So, you did fuck
her," she said, studying the menu.
"Who?"
"Carlysle. It was all over New York."
He grinned. "I had no" "A word of advice," Frances said, sipping a J&B
on the rocks.
"Never let your cock interfere with your career.
"I'll remember that, Frances," he said, trying to keep a straight
face.
A week later Annie moved in. He hated having to share his closet.
She hated the fact that the bathroom was down the hall. "I'll look for
something better," he promised, although he was fond of his little
place by the beach.
Six weeks later he was invited to view a rough cut of the movie.
Annie and Cyndra accompanied him. He sat in the theater sweating,
wondering what it was going to be like seeing himself on the screen.
He'd attended a couple of days' rushes, but that was it. Meena,
Frances and Bridget were in the audience. Having them there made him
extra nervous. He nodded at his two producers-the woman didn't even
crack a smile. Carlysle was there with her mother, looking demure.
Cyndra squeezed his hand. "This is so exciting!" she whispered.
"Yeah, almost as exciting as your record debut. When's it coming
out?"
She grinned.
"Two weeks. I can hardly stand it!" he said.
"We'll celebrate, "You bet we will."
