Sinners (18 page)

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Authors: Jackie Collins

BOOK: Sinners
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He went upstairs after lunch and phoned George.

‘Send me a cable immediately,’ he said. ‘Say – meeting imperative on
Roundabout
, urgent. Return at once. Sign it Cy Hamilton.’

An hour or so later the cable arrived, and full of apologies, Charlie showed it to Serafina, now playing black-jack.

She looked dismayed. ‘Does that mean we have to go too?’

‘No, love, not at all. I’ll leave you credit, and you can stay as long as we planned. Dindi will stay too, and Clay and Natalie. You’ll be fine.’

Serafina didn’t argue.

Next, he located Clay by the pool, chatting up a showgirl. He showed him the cable. ‘Sorry, love, it’s a real drag. You’ll keep an eye on Serafina for me, won’t you? I’ve left her plenty of credit but if she needs any money, give it to her.’

Clay nodded. ‘What about Dindi?’

‘She’s staying too. I don’t know where she is, but I’ve left her a note. Just make sure she stays, and see she’s nice to Serafina.’

‘Yes, boss!’

‘I don’t know what I’d do without you and Nat.’

Clay grinned. ‘You’d manage.’

Charlie was on a plane half an hour later on his way back to Los Angeles.

 
Chapter Twenty-Six

The item read: ‘
Steve Magnum and ravishing eye-stopping Sunday Simmons seem to have found each other on the sunny shores of Acapulco where they are filming
Cash
together. Do we hear wedding bells?

The item read
: ‘Sexsational Sunday Simmons and much-married Steve Magnum constant companions on location for
Cash.’

The item read:
‘Steve Magnum seems to have bewitched lovely newcomer Sunday Simmons. Friends say they are inseparable. They are working on
Cash
together
.’

*    *    *

For once the Hollywood gossip columns read correctly. Sunday and Steve were constantly together.

She found him charming, easygoing, and very attractive. He was so unlike anyone she had ever met before. Always in command of any situation, always laughing and joking. She wasn’t sure if she was in love, so she refused to sleep with him.

He couldn’t believe it. ‘Honey, it’s not like you’re a virgin. How long has it been for Chrissake?’

She smiled in reply. ‘Long enough. I don’t want to be another Steve Magnum conquest. Let me be sure.’

So she waited.

‘I’m in shock,’ he confessed to friends. ‘This broad’s put me in shock!’ But he laughed when he said it, and he respected her and didn’t push her into bed. What he did was install Enchilada in a nearby hotel, and she visited him when Sunday returned at night to Las Brisas. It seemed like a fair arrangement. What Sunday didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and as soon as she overcame her doubts, Enchilada would be sent packing with a couple of thousand dollars to soothe her ruffled pride. Actually, it rather pleased Steve that Sunday wasn’t prepared to leap straight into the sack; at least it suggested that there hadn’t been a long line of guys in front of him. She told him, and he believed her, that there had been no-one since her husband. What a change it made from the usual Hollywood scene which was like a bizarre game of Change Partners.

*    *    *

Cash
was nearing completion. The film Sunday had made with Jack Milan was released, and although her part was only small, she was mentioned favourably in the reviews and started to receive an avalanche of fan mail.

Carey phoned her every day to report the offers she was getting. There was a movie in Europe. A
Bonnie and Clyde-type
film in Texas. A comedy in Hollywood.

Steve advised her not to accept anything. ‘Keep ’em waiting and your price will rocket. When they see you in our movie you’ll be able to name any terms you want.’

Sunday wasn’t sure. It would be months before
Cash
came out and she didn’t want to wait that long. It was too much of a risk with the industry in its present state.

Carey was persuaded. ‘OK, let’s strike while you’re hot.’

So Sunday signed for the comedy.

Steve sulked. ‘Wouldn’t listen to me, huh?’ he complained. ‘Five minutes in the business and you know it all.’

‘I haven’t been five minutes in the business. Anyway it’s a very good script.’

They were sitting by the pool at his house. It was early evening and they had just finished the day’s shooting.

‘I’m going for a swim,’ she announced, and went to a cubicle and changed into a white bikini.

‘Hey, listen, do an old man one favour at least and swim in the raw.’

‘What?’ she asked laughing. ‘You’re as bad as all the directors I work with.’

‘Listen, baby, it’s enough not having you yet. If anyone knew my reputation would be shot to hell. So give me a cheap thrill, huh? Just for kicks.’

‘Steve, I can’t. You’ve got a house full of servants. Anyway, I don’t think—’

‘OK.’ He shrugged. ‘OK, if you don’t even care that much about me. You know we’re completely secluded from the house.’ He turned away, staring at the pink uneven walls surrounding the pool area and wondering what it was about her that had him so hooked.

There was a splash, and then she called him.

She was floating in the pool, her hair wet and streaming out behind her, and her naked breasts outlined clearly in the opalescent blue water. She wore only the bottom half of her bikini.

He was pleased. ‘Hey, baby, that’s really something.’

She waited for him to dive in, but he just smiled his famous smile and said, ‘Baby,
you are beautiful.
’ So conditioned was he to not having her that it didn’t occur to him that she might be ready. Besides, he had had a three-hour session with Enchilada the previous evening, and at his age it was exhausting.

She swam slowly around the pool. Soon the film would be finished and she had to decide about herself and Steve.

‘Listen, baby,’ he said, ‘I promised we’d go to a party tonight. OK with you?’

She climbed out of the pool, covering her breasts with her hands. ‘Fine.’

*    *    *

The Acapulco Film Festival was in full swing, and Sunday and Steve had already attended several parties together.

Sunday enjoyed them. It was interesting meeting the foreign contingent, and she had run into two or three people she had worked with in Rome.

‘You’re quite a celebrity,’ Steve said with a mixture of jealousy and pride when an important Italian director greeted her with a stream of praise about a film they had made together.

‘I did exist before Hollywood,’ she said with a smile.

‘You bet your ass you did, and I don’t want to hear about it.’

Claude Hussan, the French director, was brought over to be introduced by an anxious publicity girl. Claude was a tall angular man with dark emaciated features, black eyes and long straight hair. He was the current rage in French film circles, and married to a French actress who had starred in his latest film. The film was collecting a series of awards, and his wife was being acclaimed as a young Garbo.

Sunday was excited at meeting him, but he greeted her with bored eyes and a great lack of interest, talking only to Steve. It upset her. She couldn’t understand why he was so rude. She had seen his new film and admired it greatly. Secretly she harboured the wish to work for him. She knew that he was in the process of preparing his first American film, although no one seemed to know much about it.

On the way home Steve said, ‘What did you think of Claude?’

She shrugged. ‘Full of his own importance.’

‘Yeah, he’s a cold fish. I hear he’s a bastard with the ladies.’

‘Yes, well you’re not exactly Little Boy Blue.’

He told the chauffeur to pull over and stop. ‘Listen kid, you have no complaints. I’ll tell you what I was thinking. You want to try the marriage bit?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Marriage baby. Let’s get MARRIED. Then maybe I can score a little sex around here.’ Memories of Sunday swimming half-naked gave him his first hard-on of the day.

‘You’re not serious, are you?’

‘I’m serious. When do you want to do it? Jesus, I thought the days of a broad holding out until after the ring was on her finger were over, but I guess they’re not. When, baby? You name the day.’

‘I – I don’t know.’ A proposal of marriage was the last thing she expected. She certainly hadn’t been holding out for that reason. I mean are we compatible? Do we like the same things?’

‘Take off your clothes, sugar, and we’ll soon find out.’

‘Steve, don’t joke. I’ll have to think about it.’

His voice echoed disbelief. ‘You’ll have to think about it. What is there to think about? My God, I’ve met difficult broads but you beat the band.’

‘I can’t just rush into a decision. It’s a little more complicated than that.’

‘Jesus, Sunday. Do you think now that we’re practically married I can get on with my sex life? I feel like a goddamn monk, it’s been so long.’

‘Is that why you want to marry me, just for sex?’

‘Don’t talk like an idiot.’

‘I’ll tell you what. We’ll go to bed together and then we’ll see.’

‘We’ll see what?’

‘We’ll see if we want to get married.’

He shook his head. ‘You know, you’re a nutty broad.’

‘I’m not a broad.’

‘No, I guess you’re not.’ He lit a cigarette. ‘So when do I get lucky?’

She smiled. ‘Soon, I promise.’

The next day, without asking her, Steve announced their forthcoming marriage. Journalists started to flow into Acapulco from all over the world.
Cash
received a million dollars’ worth of free publicity. Sunday Simmons became a household name.

She was angry. ‘You should have waited. This isn’t fair.’

He grinned his famous grin and presented her with a flawless square-cut diamond ring. It was difficult to stay angry with him, he was so pleased.

She phoned Carey, who was delighted about the whole thing. Then she phoned Max Thorpe. He hadn’t predicted an immediate marriage.

‘I’d like to see you,’ she pleaded. ‘We’re having an engagement party tomorrow night. Can you possibly come?’

‘I’d love to,’ Max said. ‘Will Branch be there?’

‘I hope so.’

‘So do I, my dear, so do I.’ Max chuckled and envisaged himself in his pink frilled evening shirt.

*    *    *

It seemed all of Acapulco turned out, plus a certain section of Hollywood, and most of the wandering jet-setters.

Sunday was amazed at Steve’s wide range of friends.

Her guests were few – Carey, with Marshall, smiling all over her face and whispering, ‘I want to hear the whole story.’ Branch, strangely quiet and morose. Max Thorpe, telling fortunes, in particular that of an eighteen-year-old rock idol. And Dindi, alone and pretty in the skimpiest dress, which showed off every one of her assets.

‘Where’s Charlie?’ Sunday asked, slightly disappointed by his absence.

‘That man is such a drag,’ Dindi said. ‘All he has on his mind is work. I’m seriously thinking of trading him for a newer model now that I’m making it on my own. Did you know I’m starring in
All the World Loves a Stripper?
It’s a fabulous part. Lots of nude scenes, but it’s very artistic, and absolutely imperative to the story.’

‘That’s terrific, I’m sorry that things aren’t too good with you and Charlie.’

‘Good, schnood, who cares.’ Dindi peered closely at Sunday. ‘Say, is it all true or what?’

‘Is what true?’

‘The sexy Mr Magnum. Is he where it’s at or not? I mean does he swing like they say? Is he
that
good?’

‘Er, Dindi, I’ll see you in a minute, there are some people I must talk to.’ Sunday hurried off.

‘For a great-looking girl she sure is dull,’ Dindi muttered. ‘Bet she wouldn’t know a good screw if it was staring her in the face.’

Dindi was particularly disturbed by the engagement. She had got herself lumbered with a moody English actor, and Sunday had picked the plum, Steve Magnum himself.

Steve was talking to a well-known senator when Dindi zeroed in. ‘Hi,’ she said, ‘I’m Dindi Sydne, Mrs Charlie Brick. I’m Sunday’s best friend. I guess she told you about me.’

‘If you give yourself any more billing, you’ll own the studio!’ Steve said with a laugh.

Dindi laughed too, as did the senator, who said, ‘My wife is a big fan of your husband’s.’

‘You don’t say,’ Dindi replied. ‘How nice. I’ll tell Charlie. Great house you have here, Steve.’

‘Thank you.’ Where had Sunday found this ding-a-ling? If indeed she was a friend, for Sunday had never mentioned her.

‘I may get Charlie to buy a house here. How would you like us as neighbours?’ She gazed at Steve wide-eyed.

He looked her up and down. ‘It sure as hell would improve the scenery.’

*    *    *

Carey dislodged herself from the senator’s wife and found Sunday.

‘I know we can’t get involved in long talks now, but tell me, are you happy?’

‘Happy?’ Sunday replied. ‘Does one ever really know at the time? I think I’m happy. I
know
Steve is.’

‘You certainly surprised us all. I mean everyone thought he was much too slippery to get caught again.’

‘I didn’t
catch
him. I didn’t set any traps. He wants to marry me.’

‘Of course he does. All I’m saying is that you were clever the way you played it. Like very smart.’

‘Carey, I haven’t been playing any games. I haven’t even slept with him yet.’


What?

‘Oh, don’t worry, tomorrow’s the big day. I’m not fool enough to marry a man I don’t know sexually.’

‘You’ve been going together two whole months and you haven’t slept with him and
that
’s not playing games! Wowee you’ve got to be made of stone.’ She started to laugh. ‘I’ve really got to hand it to you.’

‘Don’t you dare say a word to anyone. Not anyone. Steve would kill me if he thought I had mentioned it.’

‘You know you can trust me. What’s he been doing for action?’

‘You’re beginning to sound like Dindi. Nothing. That’s one of the things I like about him, he’s been prepared to wait.’


Come on
. Steve Magnum?’

‘Yes. Steve Magnum.’

‘If you say so.’ But Carey wasn’t really prepared to believe that. He must have had
something
going for him.

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