Hollywood Wives - the New Generation (28 page)

She took her tea and went upstairs to her bedroom. On the centre of
her bed was an envelope with her name on it. The name was not written -
it was made up of individual letters cut from a magazine.
LiSsA
.
She opened it. The message was clear.
You will Die In VeGas bitch
.

It was not the first time she had received a threatening letter,
although usually they didn't reach her bedroom. She called down to
Nellie on the intercom. 'There's a letter on my bed. Can you find out
how it got there?'

Nellie called back five minutes later. 'Sorry, Miz Lissa, the new
maid found it out by the front gate this morning and thought it was
important. I've told her that in future she should give everything to
Danny, and not bother you.' At least the maniac hadn't got into the
house. Maybe it was Gregg trying to scare her. This was exactly the
kind of stupid stunt he'd pull.

She immediately called the Robbins-Scorsinni office and asked for
Michael. He was out, so she spoke to Quincy. 'I received a death-threat
letter,' she said, remaining surprisingly calm, 'so I need one of you
to come to Vegas with me. Of course I have Chuck, and there'll be
plenty of security at the hotel, however, I'll feel better if you or
Michael are with me.'

'What kind of letter?' Quincy asked.

'It's probably a hoax, or Gregg playing games. I'll messenger it
over so you can take a look.'

'Lissa,' Quincy said apologetically, 'you know I got this broken leg
thing goin' on, otherwise I'd be there.'

'Oh, yes. I forgot.' A beat. 'Michael will do, send him. We leave
Thursday morning. If he comes to my house promptly at ten, he can drive
to the airport with us.'

'It's done, Lissa, he'll be there.'

To Nicci's horror, when they got downstairs, she discovered a huge
dent in the front of her BMW. 'How did
this
happen?' she
wailed, circling her car.

'Who the fuck knows?' Brian mumbled, groping for his sunglasses.

'Were we
so
out of it that we had an accident and didn't
realize?' she demanded, turning on him. 'We could've
killed
someone.'

'
You
were driving,' he said accusingly.

'No, I wasn't,' she argued. 'You insisted, remember?'

'C'mon, Nic, get in the car and let's get this over with. I gotta
get back to the location before my brother drives everyone insane with
his nagging.'

She slid into the driver's seat. He didn't argue - he was too
hung-over. So was she, although it hardly seemed to matter.

They drove to Evan's house slumped in their individual hangovers. As
soon as they got there, Nicci ran inside and fetched the envelope
containing Evan's papers. By the time she got back, Brian was sitting
in his Porsche, which had been parked outside the house all night.

She handed him the envelope. 'There you go,' she said. 'Remember,
not a word to Evan about any of this.'

'Maybe there's nothing to tell,' Brian said, peering over the top of
his sunglasses. 'The way
I
see it, we got back to my place
an' passed out. I think if we'd
had
sex, one of us would
remember. I've never had a girl say she
doesn't.'

'You certainly have a high opinion of yourself, don't you?' she
said, wishing he wasn't so damn attractive.

'Somebody's got to,' he said, grinning.

'Oh suck it up, Brian. You're a total flake.'

He started his car, revving the engine. 'I'll give your love to
Evan.'

'Don't bother,' she said, going back into the house.

As soon as she was sure he'd gone, she took a shower, standing there
for fifteen minutes, letting the cold water rain down on her body. When
she got out, she wrapped herself in Evan's big towelling bathrobe, took
two aspirins, drank a bottle of water, and collapsed onto the bed. Then
she called Saffron.

'Where've you
been
, girl?' Saffron asked. 'I get
withdrawals when you vanish outta sight.'

'Don't ask.' Nicci sighed. 'I need to see you. Got stuff to talk
about.'

'Like what?'

'Like can you come by later?'

'If I get a babysitter.'

'Bring Lulu, I never see enough of her. You can both stay the night.'

'Lemme call you back.'

'I need you to be my shrink,' Nicci said. 'I've got a bad feeling I
might've made a
major
mistake.'

'Forget about it. There's no way I'm going to Vegas just 'cause she
received some crank's letter,' Michael said stubbornly. He'd just got
back to the office after meeting with a husband who suspected his wife
was a cocaine addict. Now Quincy was immediately on his case.

'You
gotta
go,' Quincy retorted, trying to persuade him.
'Lissa Roman's one of our most important clients. We have a contract to
take care of all her security needs.'

'I'm
not
a freaking bodyguard,' Michael said grimly.

'Nobody said you were. You'll be goin' there as a representative of
our office, makin' sure everything's okay. Anyway, what the fuck's
with
you an' Lissa?
Why
doncha wanna go?'

'Cause I'm not about to be summoned like some flunkey. What am I
supposed to do? Hold her hand?'

'Hey, man, that's up to you.'

'Quit with that shit, Q. I've had it.'

'Okay, okay, we'll talk about it later.'

Saffron turned up at the house with her three-year-old daughter,
Lulu, whom Nicci adored.

Lulu threw herself into Nicci's arms, smothering her with hugs and
kisses.

'Why don't I see more of my baby?' Nicci demanded, swinging her
godchild around in circles. 'I
am
her godmother.'

'It's
your
fault,' Saffron said as Lulu yelled excitedly.
'You're always busy doing nothing. Anyway, wait until you see Lulu's
dress. She'll be
the
most beautiful flower-girl ever. Won't
you, baby?' she said, grabbing her daughter.

'Not a baby,' Lulu said sternly. 'Me big girl.'

'Sure you are,' Nicci agreed.

'Anyway… guess what?' Saffron said.

'What?' Nicci said.

'Prepare yourself, babe,' Saffron said, with a secret smile. ' 'Cause
this Saturday is kidnap night.'

'It is?' Nicci said excitedly.

'You bet your fine ass. Saturday's the night we take off on our
magical mystery tour. So from five in the afternoon you'd better be
ready for anything. And don't even bother askin' me questions 'cause,
girl, I am not tellin' you a damn
thing.'

'I'm totally psyched,' Nicci said, momentarily forgetting about her
massive hangover. 'I've always wanted a wild bachelorette night - which
I hope includes male strippers with huge—'

'Shush!' Saffron interrupted, indicating Lulu.

'Sorry.'

'Hungry! Hungry! Hungry!' Lulu yelled, jumping up and down.

'We'd better order food,' Saffron said. 'She's like me,
wants what she wants as soon as she wants it!'

'How about burgers?' Nicci suggested. 'Isn't that what small people
eat?'

'It's what this kid eats,' Saffron said.

'Lulu, sugar-pie,' Nicci asked, 'what d'you want for dinner?'

'Burger an' french flies,' Lulu said, all huge eyes and baby
dreadlocks, a small version of her mommy.

'Fries,' Saffron corrected.

'Flies.' Lulu giggled.

'I'll call Johnny Rocket's, they deliver,' Nicci said. 'Do you think
burgers are good for a hangover?'

'No.'

'Then what is?'

'A drink.'

'Like that's
such
a fine idea. Let's get Lulu settled,
then I'll open the wine and tell you everything.'

Quincy was still arguing with Michael about accompanying Lissa to
Vegas, but now it was four hours later and they were sitting in Carol's
apartment, which she'd decorated with scented candles and vases of
fresh flowers. She was busy in the
kitchen with Amber.

Michael was pissed that Quincy was telling him he had to go to Vegas
when he was trying his best to stay away from Lissa. He knew that
somehow it was inevitable they'd eventually be together, and yet he was
making a conscious effort to avoid it, because his gut instinct kept on
warning him it would lead to nothing but trouble.

'C'mon, man,' Quincy persisted, 'stop givin' me grief on this. The
woman needs protection.'

'You
go.'

'I would if I could.'

'Oh, yeah, your leg - very convenient.'

'I'm tellin' you, it'll be good for the agency,' Quincy urged.
'She'll recommend us to people, so make sure you take plenty of cards
with you.'

'What am I? A salesman for the Quincy Roadshow?'

'It's not the Quincy Roadshow. It's the Robbins-Scorsinni Roadshow.'

'Shit,' Michael muttered.

'What's your fuckin' problem?' Quincy bellowed, finally getting
angry.

'Okay, okay,' Michael said. 'Don't get your balls in a sweat. I'll
go.'

'Go where?' Amber asked, entering the room.

'Nowhere,' Michael said.

Carol came in from the kitchen, holding aloft a tray of canapes.
'You'll love these,' she said, with a bright smile. 'I splurged - baby
baked potatoes with sour cream and caviar. What do you think, Michael?'

'Who cares what
he
thinks?' Quincy boomed. 'Bring 'em over
here!'

Later, Michael had made up his mind to give her the speech. He
wasn't looking forward to it, and wished he could do it over the phone.
Only that would be the coward's way out, and if there was one thing
Michael wasn't, it was a coward.

'What're you cooking?' he asked.

'Roast beef, English Yorkshire pudding, and three different
vegetables,' she announced proudly.

'Sounds good,' he said, remembering how comfortable he'd felt
sitting with Lissa in her den eating lasagna on trays and getting to
know her.

Carol ruffled his hair affectionately. 'And later, after dinner, I
have a surprise for you.'

'You do?'

'Something special.'

Yeah
, he thought,
and I have one for you, too
.

He couldn't wait for the evening to end.

While Michael was at Carol's, Lissa was on her way to Kyndra and
Norio's anniversary party with James and Claude. She wore a white
Armani suit, Harry Winston diamonds, and an upswept hairstyle. It was
her first social outing since the news of her split with Gregg, and she
was determined to hold her head high. She preferred not to think about
how many people might have seen the TV programme the night before. If
it hadn't been Kyndra and Norio's party, there was no way she would
have gone. But since they were such long-time friends, she couldn't let
them down. So here she was, sitting in the back of Claude's black Rolls
with James, while Claude sat up front next to his chauffeur. At
sixty-three, Claude was a man used to immediate service. A record and
media tycoon, he'd made his first million by the time he was twenty.
Now a billionaire, he'd enjoyed a ten-year live-in relationship with
James. They were complete opposites. James, so tall and elegant and
English. Claude, a small nut of a black man, with energy to spare and a
hearty enthusiasm for all the best things in life.

'Don't worry, darling,' James said, reaching for her hand. 'We will
not leave your side.'

'It's good you're coming out now.' Claude agreed.

'Yes,' James said. 'After all, your show is on Saturday, and
everybody will see you there.'

'That's different. My show is a public event. I can handle those
kind of appearances. It's this private stuff I hate. All those
Hollywood wives…'

'Ah, the bitch brigade,' James drawled. 'And every one of their
sweet honey tongues will be sharpened to kill.'

'Thanks, James,' she said. 'You've made me feel
so
much
better.'

'
Crap
?' Saffron exclaimed, leaping up half-way through her
burger.

'
Crap
? Lulu repeated, giggling with delight. '
Crap!
Crap! Crap
!

'What's up?' Nicci asked, staring at Saffron who was looking a
little wild-eyed.

'Tonight's their anniversary,' Saffron wailed. 'And I forgot!'

'
W
hose
anniversary?' Nicci asked patiently.

'My parents! And we're all supposed to be there, Lulu, too.'

'Wanna go't' Grandma's,' Lulu chanted. 'Wanna go! Wanna go!'

'Don't call her that,' Saffron said. 'You know she hates it. Call
her Kinny.'

'Wanna go't' Kinny's.' Lulu giggled. '
Now! Now! Now
!

'Guess you blew it,' Nicci said, picking up a french fry and popping
it in her mouth. 'It's too late now.'

'Too late?' Saffron exclaimed. 'It's my parents' twenty-fifth
anniversary, for God's sake.
Of course
I gotta go. And so do
you.'

'Leave me out.' Nicci groaned, warding her off with a dismissive
hand. 'I'm totally finished.'

'Then you'd better get it together, girl,' Saffron said firmly,
'cause Kyndra's expecting
all
of us. C'mon, let's check out
your closet and find something to wear.'

'Please,' Nicci said, clutching her head with a dramatic expression,
'I'm sick. I can't do this.'

'Sometimes we gotta do things we don't want to,' Saffron said. 'I
took care of the bridesmaids' dresses, so now it's your turn't' do
something for me. Move it, Nic. This is pay-back time.'

'Crap, Saff,' Nicci complained. 'You're giving me no choice.'

'Right,' Saffron said, pulling her up. 'So let's go do the closet
thing.'

The time for action was drawing close, and Eric liked to think that
he had everything under control. Every day he followed Nicci as she
went about her usual routine of doing nothing much at all, although the
previous night she'd shocked him by changing her pattern and spending
the night with her boyfriend's brother. Oh, yes, Eric knew all the
players. He'd tracked the brother through the licence plate on his car,
which he'd left parked outside Nicci's house all night.