Hollywood Divorces / Hollywood Wives: The New Generation (79 page)

She’d been lying to him. Lola Sanchez loved Tony Alvarez. She did not love Matt Seel.

THE BITCH HAD BEEN LYING TO HIM ALL ALONG.

Matt prowled around the house while his wife slept in the luxurious bedroom she wanted
him
out of.

Matt out
.

Tony in
.

It was that simple.

Goddamn spic. Matt hated his guts. If it wasn’t for Tony Alvarez everything would be all right between him and Lola. They’d stay married. Probably have kids to cement the deal. And he, Matt Seel, would become a superstar.

JesusfuckingChrist!
Tony Alvarez was the devil. He’d lured Lola away with his devilish powers.

Matt walked to the bar and took a bottle of beer from the fridge. He drank it down in several big gulps, then opened another.

Did she honestly expect him to leave again? Leave, so that she could get all cosy with the spic?

Of course, she wasn’t exactly a pure American girl. She was a spic herself, if the truth was known. And the truth
was
known, she didn’t try to hide it.

Lola Sanchez. The Latina sex bomb.

LOLA SANCHEZ. CHEATING BITCH!

So the two spics wanted to be together and have little spic kids, was that it? While
he
, Matt Seel, a pure-born American, was left out in the cold.

He’d had enough.

Tony Alvarez was not going to come between him and his future.

NO FUCKING WAY.

Cat closed her eyes and gave herself up to the moment. Nick was a skilled lover with all the right moves. They had a rhythm going, a fantastic, wonderful rhythm. Being in bed with him was almost as if it was their first time together.
Making love on the beach earlier seemed like some kind of distant crazed adventure.

This had all started as a revenge fuck, but now she was in bed with Nick Logan in Las Vegas and enjoying every minute of it. They were totally compatible.

‘You do know that you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, don’t you?’ he said, pumping away.

‘Such a way with words,’ she murmured, moving out from under him so that she could get on top.

He began to laugh as she straddled him. ‘Always gotta be in charge, huh?’ Then his laughter turned to heavy breathing as she rode him to an incredible climax.

‘Jesus!
’ he exclaimed, when they were both finished. ‘That was the greatest.’

‘Mmm,’ she agreed, rolling off him. ‘You’re not bad.’

‘Seems like you’ve had a practice run or two,’ he said, reaching for a cigarette.

‘And I’ve got a feeling
you
’ve done this before,’ she murmured.

‘A few times,’ he said, lighting his cigarette. ‘Never with anyone like you.’

‘And he knows what to say too.’

‘Hey, the first time I saw you I knew this was gonna happen.’

‘
I
didn’t.’

‘You certainly did,’ he said, blowing smoke rings toward the ceiling. ‘You were trying to ward me off ’cause you were my director and it wasn’t cool to hop into bed with your main actor. Right?’

‘Your ego is out of control.’

‘Took a lotta willpower, though, didn’t it?’

‘Don’t flatter yourself.’

‘There’s nothing like the real thing, huh?’ he said, turning toward her.

‘I thought casual fucking was your bag.’

‘Then I met you.’

‘Hmm…’

‘Hmm,
what?
’

‘Until the next one comes along.’

‘You’re wrong, Blondie. Very, very wrong.’

‘We’ll see,’ she said, not prepared to believe a word he said. ‘Only don’t sweat it, ’cause casual sex suits me just fine right now. We can make it as casual as you like.’

S
omething awoke Lola. She wasn’t sure what it was–a noise, a bump, or maybe it was a car starting.

She sat up and glanced at the clock. It was almost six in the morning.

Hmm…if there was an intruder on the premises, Big Jay would’ve been on the case. He slept above the garage in his own apartment, and there was also a guard on duty down by the front gate.

She wondered if Matt was still asleep in the guest bedroom. Had she been too harsh on him?

No. Why pretend? He was about to walk away with a lot of money,
and
a case of half-assed fame. Women would want to be with him simply because he was the ex Mr Lola Sanchez.

She clicked on the TV, switching to the security channel where she could see the gate.

There was a car leaving the driveway.
Her
car.
Her
Bentley.

Oh,
shit!
Matt had taken her Bentley again. He’d gone and taken her car. Damn! She couldn’t believe his nerve. He
knew
how pissed off she’d be.

Oh, well, too late to stop him now.

Did this mean that she’d have to give him another
settlement
and
the Bentley? Because it was unlikely that Otto would get it back for her a second time.

Her thoughts shifted to Tony. Today she’d call him and tell him her plan. ‘I think we should get married,’ she’d say. ‘Dump the
putta
and let’s get serious here. I’ll arrange a fast divorce, and I promise I’ll
never
run out on you again.’

Yes, that was what she’d say. And Tony would forgive her, because if he
wasn’t
prepared to forgive her, he wouldn’t have lured her into the bedroom at the party, locked the door and forced her to her knees.

Not that he’d had to force her. She
loved
giving Tony Alvarez head. He was the best-tasting man in the world. A prince, a king. He was
her
man. And she loved everything about him.

Was it too early to call him? Yes. Tony was a night person. When he wasn’t working he usually slept until noon.

Was Maria lying next to him?

Unlikely, because after she’d told him about catching his girlfriend with Raja, he’d probably dumped her. Tony was not the kind of man who’d put up with sloppy seconds.

She got out of bed and went into the bathroom. It was almost light outside, and she didn’t feel like going back to sleep. She thought about driving over to her mother’s. Claudine always rose early, and sometimes she could be persuaded to fix pancakes with crispy bacon and homemade maple syrup.

Yes, she’d go over to Mama’s house, corner her in the kitchen and tell her very calmly that she did
not
love Matt, that there was no way she was staying with him, and if Tony would have her–they were getting married.

If Claudine threw a shit-fit, it was too damn bad.

Matt drove Lola’s Bentley as though he was a General about to go to war. Oh, Lola would be so angry when she noticed her precious car was gone. He couldn’t care less. After all, he was only borrowing it. He’d bring it back, because very soon she’d want
him
back.

He’d dressed all in black and found his ski-mask, which he’d placed on the passenger seat. He also had on a knitted cap pulled low on his forehead. His outfit made him feel powerful and invincible–like a Ninja warrior.

Whistling softly under his breath, he headed for the Hollywood Hills.

‘There’s no way I can sleep,’ Cat said, suddenly sitting up in bed. ‘I’m way too hyper.’

‘Me, too,’ Nick agreed. ‘Wanna go play?’

‘It’s six a.m.,’ she pointed out.

‘So?’ he said, yawning. ‘There’s no clocks in casinos. Nobody gives a shit. I’ll set you up with a bunch of dollar bills and you’ll play the slots.’

‘Oh,’ she said tartly. ‘You think
I
’m playing the slots while
you
sit at the blackjack table having fun with the grown-ups?’

He reached for a cigarette. ‘You’ll have fun playing the slots.’

‘Who do you think I am? A little old lady on a walker?’ she said, jumping on top of him. ‘I
insist
you teach me blackjack.’

‘I can’t believe you’ve never played,’ he said, rolling her off him.

‘I used to hang out in the casinos in Cannes and Monte Carlo with my dad,’ she said, remembering her unconventional childhood. ‘It was major boring. Full of incredibly ancient people hunched over the tables. I used to
sneak off to the bar and persuade the barman to slip me a drink.’

‘What didja have to do to persuade him?’

‘Well,’ she said, grinning, ‘remember that technique I demonstrated earlier?’

He put up his hand. ‘Don’t wanna hear where you learned it.’

‘It was pretty good, huh?’ she said, still grinning. ‘Gives a whole new meaning to the word “French”.’

‘Oh,
yeah
,’ he said, laughing and dragging her out of bed. ‘C’mon, let’s get dressed and go downstairs.’

‘Should we do anything about Amy and Jonas?’

‘No. They’re a honeymoon couple, let ’em sleep.’

Lately Tony Alvarez had been doing a lot of thinking about Lola. She was hot, she was sexy, but sometimes her fame was too much of a good thing. Everything she did was scrutinized. Everywhere they went, people stared.

Not that he minded the staring so much–he was well-known in his own right–but the constant wave of publicity that followed her everywhere got on his nerves, plus he hated being picked to pieces by the tabloids. Maybe if he
didn’t
keep on getting back with Lola, they’d leave him alone.

On the other hand there was Maria. Young, pliable Maria. Not famous yet, she was always available–and certainly not as contrary as Lola. One moment Lola was leaving her husband, the next she was back with the prick. He never knew where he stood with her.

This kind of drama did not appeal to Tony, although if he made the decision
not
to see her again he’d miss her soft lips, voluptuous body and their very special private games.

Knowing Lola, he wouldn’t have to give her up entirely. If she stayed with her husband, she’d
still
want to get together on the side.

On the way home from the party, he’d questioned Maria about Raja.

‘How could I say no?’ Maria had answered, all wide-eyed and exceptionally pretty. ‘She
was
the guest of honour, Tonee. My parents taught me to be polite.’

Sweet.

‘Sometimes, Tonee,’ she’d added slyly, ‘you might enjoy two girls together? I have a friend who will come over and spend the rest of the night with us.’

Even though Lola had given him spectacular head in Jorge’s private bedroom, he was always up for more. ‘Go ahead and call her,’ he’d said.

Maria’s friend had come to his house. She was a Caucasian beauty with long blonde hair down to the top of her thighs. The three of them had played in Tony’s bed until the early hours.

Later, both girls had fallen asleep draped all over him.

He hadn’t minded. Why would he?

The only problem was that Lola was on his mind, and he couldn’t sleep.

Lola hurriedly put on a tracksuit and baseball cap, then ran downstairs.

Big Jay was still not up; nor was her housekeeper.

She peeked into the den to see if Matt had collected all his personal possessions, such as his collection of sports DVDs and the script he’d been writing for ever.

She noticed that her personal organizer lay open on the desk. She didn’t remember leaving it there, so she walked over and picked it up. It was open at the letter A where
Tony’s address and private numbers were listed. Somebody had slashed a thick red X through his name.

Why would anybody do that?

Matt, of course, showing off his venom.

How pathetic.

She was about to leave the room, when it occurred to her to wonder
why
Matt was looking up Tony’s address. Not that Matt would ever do anything foolish. But still…

Returning upstairs, she checked out Matt’s closet to see if he’d taken his clothes.

No. Everything was still there, hanging neatly.

Hmm…he’d left early in the morning without taking anything. She had a lingering feeling that something was not quite right.

Maybe she should call Tony just in case.

No, she decided, absolutely not. Tony would not appreciate being awoken so early.

She picked up the phone and called her mother instead. ‘Pancakes, Mama?’ she asked hopefully. ‘I’m starving.’

‘For you, Lucia–of course.’

‘I’m on my way.’

‘Can I get you anything?’ the flight attendant enquired. She was a faded, pretty girl with tight brown curls and a tired smile.

‘No, thanks,’ Pete said, indicating Shelby, who’d fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. ‘Miss Cheney is sleeping.’

‘Do you think I can get her autograph when she wakes up?’ the flight attendant asked, brightening slightly.

‘This is not a good time.’

‘It’s not?’

‘Ms Cheney is dealing with a personal crisis.’

‘So an autograph
won’t
be possible?’ the flight attendant said, bristling slightly.

‘I’ll ask her for you.’

‘I’d certainly like to get one.’

Pete rolled his eyes as the woman walked away. When it came to celebrities people didn’t care what was going on in their personal lives. As far as the general public was concerned, celebrities were their rightful property.

His right arm was numb, but he was loath to move it and disturb Shelby. She looked so peaceful and relaxed, and she smelt so good.

He kept on thinking about Linc. They’d once been close, and although Linc had stolen Shelby from him, he certainly did not wish him any harm.

It was difficult, though. He loved Shelby so very much, and if Linc lived through this crisis he knew he’d never have her.

However, if Linc died…

Christ! It was a no-win situation.

He glanced at his watch. Another three hours before they landed.

Lola decided not to wake Big Jay, even though she knew he’d go into a big sulk if she sneaked out by herself. Actually, she quite enjoyed the freedom of being out on her own, and it wasn’t as if there were any crazed stalkers around this early in the morning, although in the past she’d experienced her share.

She jumped into her sporty, electric blue Mercedes and set off.

Naturally, her trusty guard at the gate was asleep. Wonderful! What exactly was she paying him for? Certainly not to fall asleep on the job.

She honked her horn, activated the automatic gates, and sped out on the way to her mother’s house.

‘Never draw if the dealer is showing a picture card,’ Nick instructed.

‘Why?’ Cat questioned. ‘I might be feeling lucky.’

‘You can’t play this game on the way you feel.’

‘I can do whatever I want.’

‘Oh, yeah, I forgot’ it’s
you
I’m speaking to,’ he said, sitting down at a blackjack table. ‘Miss “I’ll-do-it-my-way-or-not-at-all”.’

‘You’ve given me the basics and I
get
it, okay?’ she said, anxious to get started.

‘Don’t sit next to me and screw up
my
game,’ he warned.

‘Would you prefer I go to another table?’

‘
Now
you’re talking.’

‘Screw you, Nick,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘I could be a big asset.’

‘Or a big pain in the ass.’

‘You
jackoff
.’

‘How come you know me so well?’

A cocktail waitress approached. ‘Mr Logan, can I get you anything?’ she gushed, ignoring Cat.

‘Not right now, thanks.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Yes, he’s sure,’ Cat said.

‘Are you making a movie in Vegas?’ the waitress asked, fluttering her overly long, fake lashes.

The pit boss gave the waitress a steely glare, indicating that she should move on.

‘Sorry, Mr Logan,’ the pit boss said, coming over. ‘The girls are excited you’re here.’

‘No worries,’ Nick replied. ‘I’m kinda used to it.’

‘We’ll try and keep people away from you.’

‘While
he
’s doing that,’ Cat said, ‘I’m finding my own table to play at.’

‘Be lucky,’ Nick said.

‘I intend to,’ she answered, wandering off.

As soon as Cat left, a flat-faced woman slid on to the seat beside him. She glanced at him, then did a double-take. ‘You’re Nick Logan,’ she announced, as if she was telling him something he didn’t already know.

‘Right.’

‘I’ve seen all your movies.’

‘I’ve seen all yours,’ he retorted, straight-faced.

‘I’m not an actress.’

‘Shame.’

Puzzled, she turned away.

He winked at the dealer. ‘Let’s get this show on track. I got itchy hands.’

Tony Alvarez lived way up in the Hollywood Hills. Matt manoeuvred the sleek Bentley through the winding streets, searching for the address he’d found in Lola’s organizer. When he located the right house, he drove past the gated entry a couple of times then parked further up the street.

He sat in the car for a few moments considering his next move. Eventually he jumped out of the Bentley and made his way back down the hill, checking out the tall hedges surrounding the property. Nothing that he couldn’t scale.

If there was one thing Matt excelled at, it was athletics.