Hollywood Wives - the New Generation (22 page)

'I thought
you
saw her yesterday.'

'I did, but it's you she wants.' Quincy chuckled. 'Mister Casanova
scores again.'

'That's a dumb thing to say, Q.'

'Yeah? I can tell when a babe is interested in makin' it somethin'
more.'

'First of all, she's no babe, she's a client. So, I'm wondering why
you would even be encouraging this. And secondly, I
am
seeing
her. Tonight. She wants to… go over some things.'

'I knew it!' Quincy crowed. 'Go over what things?'

'Whether the ex has a gun or not, 'cause if he
does
carry
an unregistered weapon, I'm thinking I should arrange to have him
pulled over, get him thrown in jail for a couple of nights.'

'Yeah, an' what else does she wanna go over?'

'I dunno,' Michael said, anxious to get off the subject. 'She wants
to see me, that's all.'

'Didn't
I
just say that?'

'It's not what you think.'

'An' what
do
I think?'

'You think she wants to get it on with me, right?'

'She's a woman, an' she takes one look at you, an' she's gotta say
to herself, "Here's a
real
guy, not one of them fancy actor
dudes." '

'Jesus, Q, you should be writing soap operas. There's no way she's
interested in me.'

'Wanna place a bet, my man?'

'No, thanks,' Michael said evenly. 'In case you've forgotten, I am
not
a gambling man.'

'Yeah, you're a lover, right?

'Get off it, asshole. You're starting to piss me off.'

Eric Vernon did not consider himself a dreamer, he considered
himself
a realist. Lately he'd been dreaming a lot. When he closed his eyes at
night he saw money, piles and piles of money, raining down on him.
Sometimes in those moments between sleeping and waking, he'd imagine he
was lying on a bed made of crisp new hundred-dollar bills. Then he'd
open his eyes and reality would hit him in the face.

Saturday morning he set off to meet Arliss and his cronies again.
The first meeting had gone well. Once he'd convinced them that
kidnapping wasn't the heinous crime it used to be, he'd arranged
another meeting to discuss exactly how the job would go down. Now he
was on his way.

'Who're we goin't' snatch?' Arliss immediately wanted to know.

Eric regarded the skinny man with cold eyes, he was sick of Arliss
asking the same old question. 'That's something I can't tell you right
now.'

'When
do
we get't' know?' Big Mark demanded belligerently.

'On the day of the job.'

'Is it someone famous?' Joe asked, his pop eyes bulging in
anticipation.

'This is not
Twenty Questions,'
Eric snapped.

Pattie appeared at the table, sad tits drooping as usual. 'What can
I get you, gentlemen?' she asked.

'Anything they want,' Eric said, barely glancing in her direction.

As soon as she walked off, he laid out his plan. Davey would be in
charge of transport: he'd pick a car from the wrecking yard, and that
would be the vehicle they'd use. 'When the job's done, you'll take the
car back to the yard and make sure it gets junked immediately.'

Davey nodded eagerly. He could do that.

'Joe's job is to get the chloroform to put her out while we
transport her to the location.'

'So it's a woman,' Big Mark crowed triumphantly.

'Women are easier to handle,' Eric answered, not giving away any
more than he had to.

'Is she famous?' Joe said, repeating himself.

'I told you, I have no intention of revealing her identity until the
time is right.'

'Why?' Arliss asked, his thin face twitching uncontrollably.

'It's not important. What
is
important is keeping this to
ourselves and working as a team.'

'How much ransom you gonna ask?' Arliss said.

'That's nobody's business,' Eric replied sharply. 'You're all
getting well paid.'

'That's for
you
to say,' Big Mark said loudly.

Eric turned on him. 'This is
my
scam, do you understand?'
he said harshly. 'You'll get your share once the money is paid. If
that's not good enough, you'd better walk now.'

'Nobody's walkin',' Arliss said, still twitching.

'Glad to hear it.' Eric stared at Big Mark. 'Your job is handling
the physical part. Once she's unconscious, you'll get her to the car
and put her in the trunk. When we reach the building, you'll carry her
to the room Arliss has prepped. Can you handle that?'

'I can carry
two
women,' Big Mark boasted, 'an' don't
think I ain't done it.'

'We probably won't have to keep her longer than twenty-four to
forty-eight hours before the ransom is settled.'

'When's this goin' down?' Arliss asked.

'Next Saturday,' Eric said, 'so keep yourselves available. By Monday
or Tuesday it should all be over. You'll get your cash, and you'll keep
your mouths closed. Because if you don't, I can assure you there will
be very bad consequences.'

'Sounds easy,' Arliss said.

'Not easy, foolproof,' Eric replied. 'Unless one of you screws up.'

'Nobody's screwin' up,' Big Mark growled.

'Good,' Eric said. He still had a gut feeling that Big Mark could
turn out to be bad news. He resolved to watch him closely at all times.

Now all he had to do was decide exactly what time to snatch Nicci.
Late afternoon would be good. The maid always left by noon, and when
Nicci came home after her lunches or shopping or kickboxing classes,
she was alone in the house, and didn't usually go out again until nine
or ten at night, when she drove herself to meet friends at a restaurant
or club. He'd noticed that she was not at all security-conscious - he'd
seen her open the door to anyone.

The following Saturday worked well, because that weekend Lissa Roman
would be getting her big pay-day in Vegas, so it should be no problem
for her to come up with the cash. Danny had already informed him that
they were all off to Vegas on Thursday and that Nicci never accompanied
her mother to public events.

'Lissa likes to keep her out of the spotlight,' he'd confided. 'She
says it's for her own safety, but
I
think it's 'cause having a nineteen-year-old kid might make her seem
old
.
Although, of course, my princess could
never
seem old. She's
ageless.'

Danny adored his boss. Eric had learned to pretend that he adored
her too. He elicited more information that way.

Nicci
, he thought.
You are my ticket to ride. You are
my one-way flight to the Bahamas, where I am planning to live happily
ever after
.

And if his team of losers didn't fuck up, he would be gone before
anyone realized it. Gone with all the money, for he had no intention of
paying one dime to this loser group of misfits.

And what the hell could they do about it?

Nothing.

Because by the time he got the money, Eric Vernon would have ceased
to exist.

Michael was in the middle of a shower when Carol called. He ran out
of the bathroom, almost slipping and breaking his neck on the wet tiled
floor. He grabbed the phone, thinking it might be Lissa cancelling
their date - not that it was a date - but, anyway, he didn't want to
miss her if it was her.

When Carol said hello, his stomach dropped. He'd forgotten about
her. He'd also conveniently forgotten about the dinner she was cooking
at her apartment the following night for Amber, Quincy and him.

'All I need to know is if you're allergic to anything,' she said,
sounding surprisingly cheerful considering he hadn't called her since
the night he'd left to rescue Lissa.

She knew he wasn't allergic - they'd had that discussion the first
week they'd gone out, so she was obviously checking to make sure he
remembered her dinner.

'Seven thirty,' she said crisply. 'I'm entering into competition
with Amber.'

'Huh?'

A light laugh. 'I'm cooking enough for ten people, so bring your
appetite.'

He felt obliged to make excuses for not calling.

She seemed unfazed. 'Don't worry,' she said. 'Amber told me how busy
you and Quincy have been.'

He clicked off the phone and stood there for a moment. He was stark
naked, dripping wet, and looking forward to seeing Lissa Roman - a
woman who could do nothing for him except complicate his life. He hated
himself for stringing Carol along, it was only fair that he cut her
loose. The main reason he'd kept on seeing her was because he knew he
was going to break it off one day, therefore removing all the
commitment pressure. How selfish was
that?

Tomorrow night, after dinner, he'd give her the speech. And it
wasn't a line, she
did
deserve better than he was capable of
giving.

He was well aware that he'd closed down emotionally when his
daughter was taken away from him. It was only by the grace of God that
he hadn't started drinking again. Christ, what a nightmare
that
would've been.

Whenever he thought about his drinking years he was filled with
dread. He
never
intended to go down that rocky road again.
He'd been drunk when he'd married Rita. If he'd been sober, he might
have seen her for the damaged woman she was and not been caught in her
devious trap.

The phone rang again. This time he knew it would be Lissa,
cancelling. But no, it was Amber.

'Michael,' Amber said, cutting straight to the chase like it was any
of her business, 'I love you as if you was Quincy's brother, which is
why I'm gonna tell you that you're makin' a mistake goin' over to Lissa
Roman's house tonight. An' don't get me wrong, she's a lovely lady I'm
sure, but, honey, you're
way
out of your league, and Quince
an' I do not want't' see you gettin' hurt, so I thought I'd have my
say.'

What
was
it with Quincy? Couldn't he keep
anything
to himself? Now Amber would go running to Carol with her information.

'It's not a date, for crissakes,' he snapped. 'And I do not
appreciate you telling me what I should do.'

'That's what friends are for, Michael,' Amber said, all
holier-than-thou. 'Lissa Roman is a movie star. She'll break your heart
an' scatter the pieces wherever the fancy takes her.'

'Do me a big one, Amber. Keep your opinions to yourself. The agency
is doing
work
for Lissa Roman, and that's all it is.
Work
.'

He clicked off before she could say another word, suddenly realizing
that the two girls who lived in the apartment across the street were
standing at their window enjoying the free show.

He stomped back into the bathroom. Talk about raining on a parade.
And it wasn't even a date.

It's not a date
, Lissa thought, as she rummaged through her
closet frantically searching for the right outfit.
It's a meeting
to—

The phone. Dammit. She was sure it was Michael calling to tell her
he couldn't make it.

She picked up without waiting for Danny to get it.

Bad move.

Gregg's voice.

Unmistakable.

Filled with hate.

Drunk.

'You fucking dumb-ass cocksucking
bitch
. I'm gonna—'

She slammed the phone down before he could tell her
what he
was going to do.

It rang again immediately.

This time she didn't pick up. She was shaking. Now she had a
legitimate reason to talk to Michael. She waited a few minutes, then
buzzed Danny. 'Who was that?' she asked.

'A hang-up,' he responded.

'Tomorrow I'd like you to change all our numbers.'

'Including your cell?'

'Everything.'

'If you're sure.'

'Yes, I'm sure, Danny. Please do it.'

'Brian hasn't called,' Nicci said over the phone.

'Shit!' Evan said. 'He was supposed to pick up those papers and fly
right back. I can't trust him to do a goddamn thing.'

'Well…' Nicci ventured. 'Could be he had other stuff to take care of
first.'

'Are you making excuses for him?' Evan said irritably, daring her to
do so.

'No, but—'

'Oh, for Crissake, Nicci,' Evan exploded. 'When are you going to
realize that my brother is a total fuck-up?'

Was this becoming a habit, Evan screaming at her?

She hoped not, because she didn't like it one little bit.

'I'm sorry, Evan,' she said, keeping her aggravation level under
control because, after all, he
was
the man she was planning
to marry. 'It's not my fault he hasn't called.'

'Yeah, yeah, I know,' Evan said, calming down. 'Try him on this
number and tell him to get over there and pick up the papers. I
should've had you Fed-Ex them, it would've been faster.'

'I can still do that.'

'No, that's okay. By the way, my mother's flying out to L.A. earlier
than expected.'

'She is?' Nicci said, alarmed. 'Like
when
.'

'Wednesday or Thursday. She hasn't decided. I'll let you know.'

'Evan, you won't be back until next week,' she pointed out.

'That's okay, she's very independent.'

Crap
! Nicci thought.
Don't tell me I'm going to be
stuck with the intimidating Lynda all by myself. This is a nightmare
!

Evan gave her Brian's number and hung up.

Naturally, when she called, a girl answered.

'Is Brian there?' she asked.

'He might be,' the girl said, sounding sulky. 'Who wants him?'

'His sister-in-law,' Nicci said.

'Didn't know he
had
a sister-in-law,' the girl muttered.

'I'm sure there's a lot about Brian you don't know.'

'What?' the girl said, sounding stupid.

Obviously Brian's type
, Nicci thought.