Hollywood Husbands (60 page)

She wasn’t ready for rejection. Silver
needed
adulation, just as Howard needed his cocaine.

And Zeppo White was not Quinne Lattimore. Quinne used to be available for her calls day and night. She could summon him to attend to minor problems any time she wanted. Zeppo was another matter. As a star agent he refused to jump, and that annoyed her.

‘I’m not sure Zeppo is the right agent for me,’ she’d complained to Wes.

Looking at her quizzically he’d said, ‘Zeppo is the tops. From now on it’s only the best for you.’

She was harbouring guilty feelings about cheating on Wes with Carlos. What if he ever found out?

Of course, he never would. How could he? And if he did, she would merely deny it. Nora was the only one who knew. Well, Nora was privy to all her secrets – why should this one be any different?

‘Can I beg a favour from you?’ the lighting cameraman’s wife asked.

Silver smiled generously. The woman probably wanted an autographed photo – everyone did.

‘Certainly.’

‘It’s not for me.’

Of course not. It never is
.

‘It’s for our grand-daughter.’

Grand-daughter! Her fans were getting younger every day!

Still smiling, she noticed Wes talking to Carlos and wondered what they were discussing.

Hey – did you know I fucked your wife the other day?

Really? I hope you enjoyed it.

Yeah, why not? She’s a good old broad.

‘Little Marybethe will be thrilled to pieces if I can promise her an autographed picture of your daughter, Heaven. And if she can sign it – to Marybethe – M-A-R-Y-B-E-T-H-E.’

Silver’s smile was fixed on her face like a concrete mask, while shivers of annoyance mixed with jealousy mixed with disbelief ran up and down her spine.

Goddammit! What the hell had she ever done to deserve this?

Chapter Eighty-Four

Getting away was the best tonic Jade could think of. Only it seemed that every time she made a trip, she was running from a bad relationship. Los Angeles to escape from Mark. Now back to New York to forget Jack Python. Although she could hardly call
him
a relationship. More like a night of passion with a professional stud. Making conquests was obviously his hobby.

How
could
she have been so gullible? It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been around.

In New York she tried to put the entire incident behind her, and threw herself into seeing old friends. There were lunches at the Russian Tea Room, Mortimer’s, and Le Cirque. Evenings at the Hard Rock Café, Twenty-One, and Elaine’s – depending on her mood. And crazy shopping trips to the three great B’s – Bendel’s, Bergdorfs, and Bloomingdale’s.

Walking the streets she breathed the freezing city air and had a wonderful time doing it. Then she visited her parents in Connecticut for a long, blissful, promotion-free weekend.

When she’d signed the Cloud deal, she had not fully realized the extent to which they expected her to sell their product. After complaining to her modelling agent, she was shown a copy of her contract, and there it was in black and white –
Ms. Johnson will undertake eight weeks of personal appearances during a twelve-month period.

Ms. Johnson had signed.

Ms. Johnson had to do.

She was certainly incredibly well compensated. The Cloud deal had set her up for life. Now she could venture into movies on her terms, or not at all.

Zeppo White called to inform her that Howard Soloman had purchased the film rights to
Married Alive
, and that a top screenwriter was tailoring the script to accommodate her.

‘I got you the sweetest deal in the world,’ he crowed. ‘Everything you asked for an’ more. I’m couriering the contract to you overnight. Get it back to me right away, kiddo.’

‘How’s L.A.?’ she asked, shivering in the borrowed apartment of a friend.

‘Hot. Christmas is coming. I’m havin’ my turkey out by the pool. How about you?’

‘I’ll spend Christmas with my family and be back right after the holidays.’

‘Looking forward to it. Ida wants to throw a party for you.’

She was all partied out. The Cloud Gala, held at the top of the World Trade building, had been a lavish affair attended by a mix of New York’s movers and shakers, plus press, and the most avid stylesetters.

Men had hit on her from all directions. A plump politician with an indecipherable accent. A Broadway star who liked to score. A former consort of Silver Anderson’s. And a tall, thin dress designer who swung both ways.

She’d declined every offer, having decided – quite firmly – that men were out, career was in.

Christmas was only a few days away, and when it was over she planned to return to Los Angeles and shoot the final batch of Cloud commercials and photographs. Actually she was looking forward to it. After nine months of living on the Coast she’d gotten used to the L.A. pace, the beautiful weather, and friendly people. She even missed her apartment, and thought she might buy a couple of cats when she returned. If the movie deal panned out she entertained the thought of renting a house – maybe at the beach.

Christmas shopping in New York was frantic. The stores were packed. Choosing presents was fun – paying for them a nightmare. And Jade found that everywhere she went she was recognized. Losing her freedom was quite a blow.

Finally, all shopped out, she was ready for a family Christmas. Corey was flying in from the Coast, and when the holidays were over they planned to travel back to L.A. together.

The day before she was all set to leave for Connecticut, Mark Rand re-entered her life with a vengeance.

He was divorced, and ready for commitment.

* * *

‘We need decisions, Jack,’ Aretha said, in her best persuasive voice. ‘Otherwise we are going to be producing shows with just li’l ole you sitting all on your lonesome in front of the camera.’

‘I told you,’ Jack said stubbornly. ‘I want Jade Johnson on the show.’

‘And I told
you
,’ Aretha replied patiently, ‘she is in New York, and will not be back until after Christmas.’

‘I’d like to have a definite commitment from her people that she’ll do the programme the week she returns.’

Sighing, Aretha fluffed out her hair. ‘I’ll do my best. Ever since Norman Gooseberger took off from Briskinn & Bower, it’s a bitch getting them to return a call – let alone anything else. They’re all a bunch of deadheads over there. Our show is hotter than Carson, an’ those assholes can’t even put their finger in the dial.’

‘Get her,’ Jack said sternly.

‘I’m
workin
’ on it. Meanwhile, the Carlos Brent booking looks like a definite. And we’re still working on Zachary Klinger.’

‘Sounds good.’

As he walked from the office, Aretha made a face behind his back. He’d been a real pain in the ass for weeks now. Usually he was such a sweetheart, but when he had something on his mind – watch out! Somehow foxy Jade Johnson had gotten under his skin. Aretha couldn’t figure how or why, she just knew he was hot to confront her. If Jack wished to destroy someone, he did it in front of a camera, and
Ms
. Johnson was his next proposed victim.

She placed another call to Briskinn & Bower, this time asking for Bernie Briskinn. Aretha had found that if you couldn’t get what you wanted from the employees – go to the boss. It always worked.

* * *

Jack hit the freeway in his Ferrari, already late for a meeting with Heaven and his business manager. Suddenly his little schoolgirl niece was an earner – heading for big bucks, and he wanted to make sure her money was well protected and invested correctly.

What a shock he’d had the day of her launch party. Expecting some minor hype which would fizzle out to nothing, he’d walked into a major event.

Heaven was all set for stardom, and when he heard her record he flipped. She had a sensational voice. Without a doubt he knew she possessed that very special quality which would propel her right to the top. She was going to be a star. Just like her mother.

At first he was assailed by so many different emotions. She was too young to get caught up in the crap. And then he felt an almost parental pride that she was good, a winner, for Jack was a winner himself, and he knew what it was like to have to struggle for achievement.

How was Silver going to feel? It would be interesting to observe her public reaction if the kid actually
did
make it.

After Heaven had lip-sync’ed her song, he made his way over, pushing through the crowds of congratulators.

‘Hey – I’m one proud uncle,’ he whispered, aware she didn’t want anyone making the family connection.

‘Really?’ She glowed with triumph and delight.

‘Call me tomorrow. I know you’re busy now, so I’m taking off.’

She nodded excitedly, amber eyes gleaming.

Lindi moved in. ‘I’m getting questions about why Jack Python is here,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘Hi, I’m Lindi Foxworthe. In charge of P.R.’

‘And I’m making a fast exit,’ he said, kissing Heaven on the cheek, and slipping her a small gift-wrapped package. ‘Happy birthday, sweet seventeen.’

He hadn’t seen her since, although they spoke on the phone often. As soon as her record took off he had suggested this meeting with his business manager.

‘I
have
a manager,’ she’d said, which was news to him.

‘Who?’

‘Remember Rocky?’

Sure – he wasn’t likely to forget Rocky. And how’d she ever got caught up with
that
creep, when he’d issued specific instructions she wasn’t ever to see him again?

Goddammit! He wasn’t her father. He was her uncle. She would be eighteen in a year, and how could he prevent her from doing what she wanted? At least when she reached eighteen he could stop worrying.

‘Bring all the contracts George signed on your behalf and meet me at my business manager’s office in Century City, Thursday at two-thirty,’ he instructed.

She was there, and so was Rocky – a walking nightmare in a white suit, black shirt, white tie, and two-toned shoes.

‘Hiya, man,’ Rocky greeted him, friendly as an over boisterous puppy.

Jack ignored him, checked out the contracts with his business manager, and was shocked to discover that Rocky owned fifty-one percent of her blossoming career.

‘Why didn’t you show these to me
before
you got George to sign them?’ he steamed.

‘Because,’ she shrugged, ‘you’re always so busy. Anyway,’ she added saucily, ‘you might’ve not let me do it.’

Indicating Rocky he said, ‘This Stallone clone owns fifty-one per cent of you. Does that seem right?’

‘Hey, man,’ objected Rocky, adjusting his cuffs, ‘I
got
her the gig with College. Without me she’d be just another little girl tryin’ to make it.’

‘Back off,’ warned Jack. ‘These contracts are going right over to my lawyer’s office.’

‘They’re legal,’ Rocky scowled. He didn’t appreciate being treated like a nothing.

‘We’ll see.’

‘Stop!’announced Heaven. ‘I’m perfectly happy with Rocky getting his cut. Lay off him, or I’m going home.’

Could it be his imagination, or was there the faint shadow of Silver emerging? Was this budding young rock star going to turn out to be just like mommy?

The least he could do was see that the money she earned was well looked after. Then she was on her own, if that’s the way she wanted it.

* * *

Heaven skipped out of the meeting, a disgruntled Rocky trailing her. ‘Your uncle treats me like a real shitheel,’ he complained. ‘I bin good t’ya. Haven’t I?’

‘Yep.’

‘So what’s his problem?’

‘I guess he just wants to see that I’m okay. He’s my only family, y’know.’

‘No shit? You gotta grandfather,
and
a mother. S’more than I’ve ever had.’

‘You must have had a
mother
.’

‘Naw. I got dumped on the steps of a church when I was born. Nice, huh?’

Staring at him earnestly, she said, ‘I didn’t know that, Rocky. It’s like really awful.’

‘What can I tell ya – I survived,’ he mumbled.

They walked towards her car, a bright red Chrysler convertible – Uncle Jack’s birthday present. The gift-wrapped package he’d handed her at the launch party had contained the keys. How thrilled and surprised she’d been. What a hot car!

‘Mebbe I should get
me
a business manager,’ Rocky mused. ‘Handle all
my
loot.’

Sliding behind the wheel she said, ‘Why don’t you?’

‘HEAVEN! HEAVEN!’ Two teenage girls ran over to the car. ‘Oooh, you’re so pretty! Can we touch you? Can you write your name on our hands? Oooh!!’

‘Get
outta
here,’ Rocky growled, jumping into the passenger seat.

Not quite sure whether he meant the girls or her, she started the car and zoomed off. Being recognized was such a blast! She loved it more each time.

As they drove along, Rocky threw her a sidelong glance. Sweet, sweet baby flesh. And he hadn’t laid a finger on her, although the prospect was tempting.

He knew he was in on a pass – one false move and maybe her uncle
would
start checking with his big-shot lawyers. Everything was legal… but if Jack wanted him out of the picture…

Hey – he had no urge to go back to dealing drugs. It was a dangerous occupation and he’d had about enough. This kid was going all the way. And he was going all the way with her. Meanwhile, she was still living with her grandfather. He had to get her out of there, set her up in her own place. And to make things
really
tight – how about if he
married
her? Then Uncle Jack could go take a hike.

The thought appealed.

‘Listen, babe,’ he said lightly. ‘Ya wanna go t’a party tonight?’

Rocky had never asked her out socially; it was always business. ‘I don’t know…’ she replied guardedly. ‘Whose party?’

‘Friend of mine at the beach. You’ve bin cooped up writin’ that theme song for
The Murder
all week. It’ll be a trip t’get outta the house.’