Hollywood Hit (22 page)

A cough—a rough cough—pulsed from BAM. Liam’s lips curved into a smile. Without a word he handed BAM a water bottle and watched as he slugged the bottle back, stilling his hack. He coughed up more phlegm and spat out a red loogie onto the 405.

He slipped his eggplant foot out of his shoe and twiddled his toes. “Get started,” BAM said and dropped more sparkle-covered nuts into this mouth. “My fucking toenails won’t clip themselves.”

Concession to Her Delight
was a tight thriller and Worldwide would make bank. Lydia slipped into the premiere party. She nodded and smiled and shook hands with all the right people—all the executives and agents and managers and actors congratulating her—knowing that again, Lydia Albright had succeeded.
Concession to Her Delight
would not win any awards nor would it be a critic’s darling, but the film would win the weekend, earn back its P & A, and was tracking to open at forty-five million. Solid box office. Lydia, as a producer with an overall deal at Worldwide Pictures, lived for yet another day.

She plastered a faux smile to her face while a slick, oily feeling rolled through her stomach.  Seeing Jay beaten and bandaged created a fear in her gut.  Plus Christina had recently requested security be posted at her town house. Something bad circled them. Something on the perimeter, just outside of Lydia's grasp. She'd gotten this feeling before when she worked on
Vitriol
.

Lydia’s eyes swept the room and her gaze landed on Ted. Ted would know what was going on and what had happened to Jay. Ted stood beside the rich boy- turned-producer Rush Nelson. Both men held a drink and watched Cici and Nikki speak to a producer from Summit. Lydia kept her face placid as Nikki walked to Rush. He reached out his arm and rested it around her waist.

Celeste squinted. Rush Nelson and Nikki Solange were a thing?

Nikki turned her head and Rush whispered into her ear. A smile danced across Nikki’s lips. The look on Cici’s face—the peaked eyebrow and the smile—seemed to indicate that Cici was pleased with this match.

“Why so serious?” Jessica sidled up beside Lydia. “You scored another hit.”

Lydia took a deep breath but couldn’t smile. “It would seem we’ll win the weekend.”

Jessica upended her glass of soda. They stood next to each other but faced out at the crowd. Their eyes scanned the groups of people merging, meeting, chatting, doing business. Jessica finally broke the strategy analysis of all the players in the room that was taking place in both their brains.

“What’s up, Lydia?”

Lydia leaned toward Jessica. She wouldn’t share this info with anyone other than Jessica, Mary Anne, or perhaps Cici. “You remember the bodyguard that Briggs Montgomery assigned me when I was president of production and we were doing
Vitriol
and getting those nasty letters?”

Jessica’s face twitched with the reminder of what had been one of the more unpleasant episodes in their Hollywood Life.

“The gorgeous guy? Tall. Black. Looked like a male model? Came to Toronto with you for your set visit?”

Lydia nodded. Her gaze shot up toward the ceiling. Her pause was for the words she was trying to say without choking on them. “He’s in ICU at Cedars-Sinai,” Lydia whispered.

“What?” Jessica squinted.

“He still works security for Worldwide,” Lydia said. “But he’s been promoted to Ted’s security team. The team that does personal security for Cici and”—Lydia leaned closer—“Nikki.”

Jessica shook her head. “Nikki won’t let Cici and Ted give her security. They’ve gone round and round about that since before she got to Los Angeles.”

“I understand what Nikki
wants
,” Lydia said. Her gaze broke away from Jessica and skipped over the crowd toward where Nikki, Rush, Cici, and Ted stood talking. A smile even breached Ted’s implacable face.

“But we both know what Nikki wants is absolutely irrelevant if—”

Jessica interrupted, her voice soft and low. “Ted wants something different.”

“Do you think Cici knows?”

“About Jay or about security for Nikki?”

“Either,” Jessica asked.

“I’m guessing she doesn’t know about Jay because while Cici is a great actress and a hardcore warrior in the screen trade, she isn’t heartless, and she’d be over at Cedars right now. As for Nikki having security?” Lydia nodded. “I bet Ted offered the information but Cici declined.”

“Plausible deniability,” Jessica said.

“Exactly.” Lydia said.

“Because Nikki will find out.”

Lydia nodded again. “And she’ll be pissed.”

“There are no secrets in this town,” Jessica said.

Lydia turned her razor-sharp gaze toward her friend. “Haven’t we found that out time and time again?”

Lydia watched Ted. She respected him, sometimes she even liked him, but she definitely never underestimated him. He adored Cici and he would do anything to protect her and keep her happy, and if that meant siccing security on Cici’s obstinate niece without Nikki knowing, then yes, Ted would do so.

“Do you think something happened to Jay while he was covering Nikki?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia said. “I can’t dig that deep. I’m shocked I even heard about Jay. Usually when Ted wants to keep something private then we don’t hear a thing.”

Lydia’s eyes glanced over Rush. He wore cashmere and worsted-wool, hand-cut slacks. He was smooth, tight, with a hint of an edge. Rush’s eyes glanced over the crowd and his gaze locked with Lydia’s.

A jolt hammered through her neck. Something. Something in those eyes—there was more to Rush than Lydia knew. He tilted his head and smiled and Lydia returned the look.

“That guy,” Lydia whispered to Jessica as Rush’s gaze returned to Nikki. “There is something about Rush Nelson that doesn’t sit right.”

“Mike loves him. Just put one of Rush’s films into prep. It’ll go after
Boundless Bound
.”

“What a coup for Ted,” Lydia said. “Nikki producing a film at his studio means she’ll be locked up tight on a soundstage fourteen hours a day for nearly four months. He can have every grip, gaffer, and PA on my set be security guards for Nikki and Cici.”

“You really think Jay ending up in ICU has to do with Nikki?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia said. “But I am certainly going to try to find out.”

*

Liam trailed BAM into the
Concession to Her Delight
premiere party as though he were a puppy flopping after a master. He wasn’t proud of his appearance behind BAM as BAM’s toady, but looking around the room Liam knew, as did every assistant, that the hands that currently clutched power in Hollywood had, once upon a time, swept up detritus from someone before them. Everyone paid their dues. Each person here had pushed a mail cart or delivered stool samples—each had paid with soul-sucking, sweat-inducing, bloodletting subservient tasks. While Liam might loathe the glances and looks that passed over him as he trailed in BAM’s wake, he accepted that this position would not last forever.

Liam had insurance on BAM’s demise.

“Lydia!” BAM yelled. Something akin to a smile, but that could also pass as a snarl, erupted on BAM’s face. Those near the bulbous beast parted. Even with his discovery of
Boundless Bound,
the stench of PA-fucking, litigation-causing, ex-studio-head still wafted about BAM.

Lydia turned from speaking with Jessica Caulfield-Fox. The corners of Lydia’s lips lifted into the hint of a smile. You didn’t stay on top as a producer without being able to work with any type of personality and perfecting the I-love-you-so-much-even-though-I-truly-loathe-you smile.

“Bikram, so happy you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss seeing another one of your successful premieres and our star’s wonderful turn.” BAM’s gaze bounced from Lydia across the room toward Celeste.

“Hello, Bikram,” Jessica said pointedly.

Liam was well aware that BAM was ignoring Jessica. He hadn’t forgiven her or yet overlooked the fact that Jessica had jammed Lydia down BAM’s gulf of a throat as a producer on
Boundless Bound
. As Cici’s manager and the sole negotiator of Cici’s film deals, Jessica had made Cici doing the film contingent upon two things: Nikki staying on as a producer and Lydia being added as a producer. Worldwide had also made their financing and distribution of
Boundless Bound
contingent on Bikram accepting Lydia as a producer. BAM had no leverage and could do nothing and that was what really stuck in his craw, both Cici and the studio essentially telling BAM “Lucky for your ass you optioned a piece of good material because otherwise we would never make a film with you.”

Which was true.

But BAM was back in the game and beside him, Liam.

“JP called,” BAM said and snorted a gelatinous glob of goo up his throat.

Lydia’s nostrils flared with the noise and Jessica cringed. They were probably looking forward to four months on set with that horrible noise. Try two years—Liam’s “hard time” with BAM. “He’s approved Cici’s niece.”

“You mean Nikki,” Lydia said, “our co-producer?”

“Right. Whatever you need to fucking tell yourself, Lydia, to sleep at night. That kid wouldn’t have shit if it wasn’t for her DNA.”

Jessica shook her head and leaned a little bit closer to BAM, although it would seem her body resisted the nearness. “Bikram, you do realize that Nikki found this script first. Have you read the first draft that Jeb did? Do you know how much work Nikki did on the script?”

“Fuck it. Without Cici and Worldwide pulling for the kid, she would have gotten bumped. Pay her the twenty-five-grand development fee and toss her an associate producer credit. No way she has the balls or the leverage to stay on this film—not as a producer. Not without some heavy-hitting protection.”

Jessica sighed. There was no arguing this point. Truly Liam understood her pain. He’d originally found Jeb’s script. He’d read all the drafts. He’d suggested Cici Solange and JP Anderson and even Jackson Nichols for the project. He’d tippity-tapped his fingers across the digits of the phone to place the calls. And for his work, his loyalty, his perseverance, what would Liam receive? Four fifty a week without overtime.

BAM slipped his white handkerchief from his pocket and mopped the sweat that rolled from his bald pate onto his forehead. A phlegmy sound rattled up through his throat and BAM placed his handkerchief over his lips.

“What the fuck?” BAM said, his voice filled with the angry incredulousness usually reserved for Liam.

Red blossomed in the center of the white linen. Red from BAM’s lips.

“That can’t be good,” Jessica said. Her eyebrows knitted in a serious frown. Her gaze glanced from BAM’s handkerchief to Lydia’s face to Liam’s eyes. Contact. The first real acknowledgement that Liam did in fact exist.

“Bikram, are you feeling okay?” Lydia asked and rested her hand lightly on BAM’s arm.

“Fucking fine,” BAM jolted out and pulled his arm from Lydia’s grasp. “Bathroom. Now,” BAM spat out at Liam as another gelatinous blob rattled in BAM’s chest and caused a cough to emanate upward to his lips.

Liam pulled his lips tight to keep his smile inside. He nodded his acquiescence to BAM and fell in behind his master, who continued to cough and bleed with each and every step toward the men’s room.

The Pacific Coast Highway rolled out through the night like a gray silken strip that cut a slippery line between the high hills and black, infinite ocean. Rush’s car raced up the coast and Nikki bathed in the moonlight. Rush accelerated through a tight turn.

Heat thrummed through Nikki. A heat that pulsed low and deep. He maneuvered the car with ease. His hands caressed the wheel. How would those strong hands feel upon her body? Those hands grasping for her breasts. Those full lips suckling her nipples. Those fingertips pushing into the wet folds between her legs. The thoughts of Rush simmered in Nikki’s mind. The heat pulsed hotter. She reached her hand to Rush’s and pulled her fingers around his palm. His chin tilted down, but he did not pull his eyes from the road.

The full moon over the ocean backlit Rush’s profile. His jaw cut a hard line through the night. He’d been nearly silent since the valet had pulled his car around, and they’d escaped the premiere for the road. An emotional distance pervaded the energy between them.

This type of a getaway had meaning. These few days together could be pivotal unless Nikki was reading everything all wrong. And she could be. Her eyes slid to the left. She examined Rush with his thick black hair tufted upward, the black shadow that lay across his sculpted jaw. This was LA, and sex to most meant little more than a thrill. He’d only kissed her and it was in his stopping short that Nikki wondered if there was something more to Rush? Something more that he wanted? Something more that he desired when it came to her and him?

She could get used to this man. Her Aunt Cici had pulled her aside at the premiere and mentioned how Rush was exactly the type of man whom she wanted for Nikki. Solid. Great-looking. Wealthy. Ambitious.

Rush turned through the gates of the Ojai Resort and Spa and slowed his car. He pulled down the long drive, past the lush trees, and onto the paved circular drive that glittered beneath the moon.

Casa Elar was made of warm stone that sparkled in the Ojai moonlight. They escaped the car and walked into the giant house. Their bags were left and Rush grasped Nikki’s hand as he pulled her through the foyer and up the stairs to the master suite. He said nothing. There were no words between them, no questions, no sound. His grip grew tighter and he pulled her into the master bedroom.

A California king bed dressed in a rich red comforter inhabited the center of the room. Rush’s lips pressed onto her shoulder. She turned and looked into his eyes.

A hot shock raced through her body. Her skin vibrated with heat trails left by his lips.

His fingers found the zipper of her dress. He pulled down. Her skin prickled and he slipped the dress over her shoulders, letting it drop into a puddle on the floor. She stood before Rush with her forearms squeezing her now naked breasts tight. She wore a black lace thong and heels.