Hollywood Divorces / Hollywood Wives: The New Generation (70 page)

‘I’ll wait until the movie comes out. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘As long as
ET
gets first shot.’

‘It’s a promise.’

She stayed behind the TV camera, watching Nick as he sat for his interview. He had a peculiar charm that worked on both men and women, and he only said ‘fuck’ three times.

She shook her head. Nick Logan was quite a character.

Hmm…character or not, she had no intention of getting to know him any better.

As she kept on reminding herself, Nick Logan was one vice she
didn’t
need.

A
week later, when Selma still hadn’t regained consciousness, Lola realized they were in deep trouble. She’d spent every day by her sister’s bedside, holding Selma’s hand and praying. Several years earlier, much to her family’s dismay, she’d abandoned the Catholic Church. This had happened after her second abortion. Abortion and keeping the faith did not seem to go hand in hand.

Now she wondered if giving up her religion had created bad karma. Was Selma in a coma because of her? Suddenly she rediscovered her faith with a vengeance. If praying would help bring Selma back, she was there.

Mama and Isabelle had flown to New York together. The two of them were inconsolable. They kept up a vigil at Selma’s bedside, pale and consumed with worry.

Lola was suffused with guilt. She knew they blamed her. And in turn, she blamed Tony. If he had not taken it upon himself to have Tyrell White beaten up, then Tyrell White’s people would never have come back with guns. She was sure that was the way it had gone down. A vendetta. Two macho men with shit for brains.

It was an ongoing nightmare. Over the last few days she’d spent several long hours at the police station with her New York lawyer, being questioned about what had taken place.

‘I didn’t see anything,’ she’d said.

‘Did Mr Alvarez shoot back?’

‘He doesn’t have a gun.’

‘His bodyguards were armed. They returned the fire, didn’t they?’

‘I know nothing about that,’ she’d said.

Faye was in full I-told-you-so mode. The publicity was insane. Lola had never thought the day would come when she didn’t want to be on the front pages. That day was definitely here.

Elliott Finerman had come through for her: he’d rearranged the schedule on
New York State of Mind
, allowing her a week off. The delay on the movie was costing a fortune, but Elliott didn’t complain. She had not expected him to display so much compassion. It was quite touching.

Unfortunately a week wasn’t enough. She needed to be with Selma until she regained consciousness. The doctors were not sure that would ever happen. Lola refused to believe their words of doom. She sent Jenny out to buy every book she could find on comas, while Isabelle combed the Internet for information. Between them they decided the doctors were wrong. Selma could wake up tomorrow or in two years. It might be a miracle, but miracles
did
happen.

The people at the hospital were extremely caring and considerate. They gave her a private room next to Selma’s, where she sat every day with her mother and Isabelle. They didn’t say much, although sometimes they hugged each other and wept–it relieved the tension.

She had not seen Tony. She did not
want
to see Tony. She blamed him for everything, although she could not summon up the strength to tell him.

When he called, she was curt. ‘I can’t see you,’ she said. ‘I have to stay at the hospital.’

‘Can I do anything?’ he asked. ‘You have to eat. Come over to my hotel and we’ll eat together.’

Was he
insane
? Did he actually think she would go to his hotel and have sex with him while her sister was lying in hospital? He could forget it.

In spite of his injury, Big Jay was back at work, his arm in a sling. ‘It’s nothing,’ he said. ‘If I could find the shooters, I’d crush ’em like little bugs.’

She’d never heard Big Jay be quite so eloquent. He stayed at the hospital with her, hiring extra guards to sit outside Selma’s room.

The paparazzi were everywhere. This was a major story for them–a story that contained every element: a shooting; a hot romance; a gorgeous movie star; a famous druggie film director; a girl in a coma.

God, how Lola hated them!

Staying in New York was a hardship for both Claudine and Isabelle, and although Lola did not want Selma taken away from a place where she could be with her, she knew her family had to leave, while
she
had to get back to work.

With Elliott Finerman’s help, she conferred with the administrators at the hospital about organizing an air ambulance to fly Selma to a facility in L.A. Eventually arrangements were made, and her mother and Isabelle left with Selma.

Lola went to the airport to say goodbye. They were all hugging and crying. It was a sad scene. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I finish my movie,’ she assured her mother.

‘I know you understand why this is best,’ Claudine said, her face sombre. ‘Your papa is alone, Isabelle has her children to care for, and Selma’s children need their family close.’

‘Anything I can do, Mama, anything at all, you know I’ll be there.’

‘Yes, Lucia, we all know that,’ Claudine said, hugging her youngest daughter. ‘This is God’s will,’ she added quietly. ‘You cannot blame yourself.’

‘But, Mama—’ Lola said, her face streaked with tears.

‘No, Lucia,’ Claudine said sternly. ‘Guilt is not good. Go to church, talk to the priest, he will help you. You must recover your faith, my daughter. You will see–things will be good again. Selma
is
going to recover. We’ll all pray for her. Your strength will come from prayer.’

When they left, Lola was devastated. She returned to her hotel feeling empty and alone. Her entire world of money and fame and stardom had been turned upside down. She would give it all up for Selma to recover.

Was she being punished?

For what?

She wasn’t sure of anything any more.

The weekly tabloids made the New York papers look tame.
Truth and Fact
hit the stands with a headline that screamed, ‘
LOLA CAUGHT WITH MARRIED CO-STAR!
’ And next to it there was the infamous photo of Lola and Linc kissing outside the restaurant.

Inside the magazine there was a huge double page spread of pictures. And another headline. ‘
IS RECENTLY SEPARATED LOLA SANCHEZ FALLING FOR HER MARRIED CO-STAR, LINC BLACKWOOD? AND WHERE IS MRS BLACKWOOD, THE BEAUTIFUL SHELBY CHENEY?
’

There were numerous pictures accompanying the story. Shelby didn’t want to read it, but people kept on coming up to her on the set with a copy, saying, ‘I know you don’t want to see this, but maybe you should.’

Why would they do that? Why couldn’t they ignore it? Or throw the damn magazines in the trash?

She refused to read it, but seeing the photos and the
headlines upset her anyway. She was sure the story would make its way into the English papers. Her parents would be mortified.

Since walking out on Linc in New York she had not heard from him. She was surprised and hurt. She’d expected him to be on the phone as soon as he sobered up, begging her forgiveness as usual.

Maybe this thing with Lola Sanchez was true. Maybe he
was
having an affair with the Latina sex bomb, and
that
was why he’d been so bitter about her and Pete, because he wanted to make
her
the guilty party so that he didn’t have to face up to his own guilt.

She was horribly conflicted. Earlier in the week she’d attended the première of
Rapture
–once again it was a triumph. The audience actually stood and applauded. All the reviews were fantastic, except for a snide comment in the
Wall Street Journal
.

She was ecstatic about her career, and deeply depressed about her marriage.

What did she really want? A fabulously successful career or Linc?

It seemed like she had no choice: Linc was not giving up his drinking, therefore he was not part of her future.

She spent many long hours with her therapist, who seemed to think the split was inevitable. ‘Linc is a very damaged man,’ Brenda repeated over and over. ‘He is filled with guilt and shame about what happened in his childhood. Drinking helps him to forget. He feels
safer
when he’s drunk. Marriage is turning out to be too big a responsibility for him to handle.’

Pete was around the set a lot. He went out of his way not to approach her unless it was to talk about the upcoming stunt.

Sometimes she found herself watching him from afar. He wasn’t Linc, but he was certainly a handsome man in a
rugged, outdoorsy way. She remembered the time they were dating. He’d treated her like a queen. And yet…she’d left him for a movie star, a man with charisma to spare. A man who obviously preferred alcohol to her.

Fortunately she had her work to throw herself into, and she liked hanging out with Cat. They giggled like a couple of girlfriends about Nick Logan and his pursuit of every woman on the set. Almost every day Nick had a different girl come to his trailer for lunch. The crew took bets on whether it would be a blonde, redhead or brunette. He seemed to favour no particular colour, although they all had spectacular bodies.

‘I’ve been watching him,’ Shelby remarked. ‘He definitely has a thing for you.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Cat said, frowning. ‘I could eat him up and spit him out. He’s a womanizing jerk.’

‘So…we think he’s a jerk, do we?’

‘Good description,’ Cat said. ‘I mean, in an unruly puppy-dog sort of way.’

‘I think you like him,’ Shelby teased.

‘I do
not
,’ Cat protested–a bit too vehemently.

Shelby found Nick was friendly and professional towards her. If it wasn’t for her problems with Linc, she would have been having a good time on
Caught
. Her role was challenging and exciting–she’d never played such a tough character. In a way it was exhilarating.

The day of the car stunt, Pete was very much in charge. He issued instructions at a rapid-fire pace, while everyone listened intently. Pete had a great reputation as one of the best stuntmen in the business. Shelby had to drive the car–a Jaguar–while being chased by Nick in another vehicle. The stunt part was executing a sudden stop and completing a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn without the car spinning out of control.

They’d rehearsed it for a week, and she was hoping she
had it down. Pete, directing second unit, rode with the camera crew on a truck behind them.

Her heart was pounding. She didn’t want to let Pete down. She
could
do it,
had
to do it.

‘Action!’ Pete yelled, and Shelby took off.

The stunt worked perfectly. Shelby was ecstatic. Pete hopped off the truck and ran towards her to help her out of the car. ‘You’re the greatest!’ he said, beaming. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

‘Thanks to you,’ she murmured.

‘One take, Shelby,’ he said, turning to the rest of the crew. ‘Let’s hear it for our girl!’

The applause was gratifying.

‘I think you gotta come to my movie première with me tonight,’ Nick said, smoking as usual. ‘It’s a big deal.’

‘It is?’ Cat said.

‘I
gotta
go, an’ I don’t fancy doin’ it alone.’

‘Take one of your many girlfriends,’ she suggested. ‘You’ve got enough of them to choose from.’

‘I wanna take you,’ he said, giving her a moody stare.

‘Why?’

‘’Cause it’ll be dynamite publicity for
our
movie. We’ll get outta the limo, an’ here I am with this knock-out blonde, an’ everyone’s gonna say, “Who’s the fox?” An’
I
’m gonna say, “She’s the director of
Caught
, the movie I’m making”.’

‘What makes you think we need that kind of publicity?’

‘We don’t, but it’ll be fun.’

Fun? Hmm…She hadn’t experienced a lot of that lately. Although when she’d called Merrill back, the conversation had been pretty damn good. Before she could say a word, Merrill had started raving about the dailies. ‘I showed them to people here,’ he said. ‘They love you, they love
your work. We got plenty of backers, Kitten. When do I get your next script?’

She’d given no thought to what she planned to do next. Maybe take some time off and go island-hopping, read some books, generally veg out.

‘I’ll get back to you, Merrill,’ she’d said.

‘Do that, Kitten. It’s you and me all the way.’

It was nice to know that somebody was waiting for her next project, although she was wise enough to realize that if
Caught
failed horribly at the box office, she’d be yesterday’s news.

‘What’re you thinking?’ Nick asked, still waiting for her answer.

‘I
hate
that question. Like I’m going to tell
you
what
I
’ thinking.’

‘Why not?’

‘Okay, I’m thinking you’re an asshole–does that satisfy you?’

‘Y’know, there’s something about you,’ he said, grinning. ‘You’re kinda like old and young at the same time. It’s the sexy bod and the old mouth.’

‘Old mouth?’ she said, frowning again.

‘Y’know what I mean.’ He chain-lit another cigarette. ‘So–you comin’ to my flick?’

‘Why are you always asking me to go places when you have a million babes who would happily go with you at the drop of their knickers?’

‘Knickers!’ he exclaimed, laughing. ‘That’s a nice old English word. Didn’t know you were English.’

‘I lived there for a while.’

‘You did?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t know much about you, do I?’

‘I don’t know much about you either, and I’m not sure I want to, so don’t sweat it.’

‘You coming with me or not?’

‘What’s the movie?’

‘
Trucker
. Big-time action, you’ll get off on it.’

She sighed. ‘I dunno…’

‘For fuck’s sake,’ he snapped. ‘Stop givin’ me this I’m-not-sure crap.’

‘Okay,’ she said, making a snap decision. ‘Your charm has convinced me. Only no hands on.’

‘What does
that
mean?’

‘I’m not one of your conquests. I’ll go with you ’cause you’re right–it’ll be great publicity for our movie.’

‘Jeez!’ he grumbled. ‘You sure as shit don’t make it easy.’

‘What time?’

‘I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something sexy.’

‘Shove it up your—’

‘Okay, okay,’ he said, holding up his hand. ‘I get it. Wear whatever you want. See ya later.’