Superstar (21 page)

"Olivia. It's
nice to see you."

"What have you
been doing?" Olivia's tone was almost accusing.

"Well, er,
supervising the script, of course. I had to make some changes,
because of Janice Sharner's bad acting -"

"That's not
what I meant," Olivia interrupted. "Mark's upset with you. He tells
me you've been seeing Simon. Is that true?"

"Well, yes, in
a manner of speaking."

"Have you got
rocks in your head? Why would you rather go out with a shmuck
playboy like Simon than a real gentleman like Mark?"

Carrin
bristled. "Well, that's my business, isn't it? And I'm not going
out with Simon, anyway."

"What, are you
just keeping his bed warm until the next bimbo comes along?"

Carrin
scowled and sank into a chair as anger made her legs shake. "I'm
not warming anyone's bed, and, as far as I know, Simon's still
going out with Jenna."

Olivia
snorted. "Oh come on, you're not that stupid. Simon gave Jenna the
old heave-ho ages ago. He never keeps a bimbo for more than a few
weeks."

"Why are you
so angry? What difference does it make to you who I go out
with?"

"None, except
when it upsets Mark."

"Well, I don't
know why he should be so upset. Anyway, it's nothing to do with him
either. We're just friends."

Olivia
groaned. "How can you be so blind? After all he's done for you. How
can you not see that he cares for you?"

Carrin
swallowed. "Well, okay, maybe he does, as a friend. Look, I'm not
going out with Simon, so he has no reason to be concerned. He
jumped to conclusions. What's between Simon and I is strictly
business."

"Spending
weekends with him -"

"I was using
his computer."

Olivia gazed
at her sadly. "What you're doing to Mark is cruel. I thought you
were a nice girl. You refuse to go out with him, then run around
with a playboy like Simon. Can't you see that a wonderful man is
right under your nose?"

"He's not a
wonderful man," Carrin retorted. "He's a cold-hearted, lying
bastard."

"How can you
say that?"

"Because I
know him. Maybe he has you fooled -"

"You don't
know him!" Olivia scowled. "He's a good man, and he doesn't have
anyone fooled."

"Not me, no.
Look, I know he pays your bills, so of course you think he's the
best thing since toilet paper -"

"He does not
pay my bills!" Olivia denied. "Who told you that lie?"

"Helen. She
should know, shouldn't she?"

"Helen's a
bitter woman. She'd say anything to hurt Mark since he threw her
out, which he did to protect you, I might add. Mark helped me out
years ago when I was in financial difficulties, that's all. He
loaned me some money and promoted one of my books until the
publishers took it. I paid him back. He's already done more for
you, and this is how you repay him? By insulting him and hurting
him by running around with his best friend?"

Carrin sighed,
feeling like she was sinking into a quagmire of intrigue. "Did Mark
send you here?"

"No, of course
not. If he knew, he'd be furious." She paused. "He came to see me
last night. I could tell he was upset about something. I haven't
seen Mark so depressed before. I made him tell me what was wrong.
Don't you know that he's crazy about you?"

Carrin gaped
at her. "He... he told you that?"

Olivia waved a
dismissive hand. "No, he'd never confide something like that to
anyone, not even me. I'm not blind, though."

Carrin shook
her head. Mark had made the same mistake about her and Simon.
Olivia was mistaken, that was all.

"You're
wrong."

"He took you
to his ranch. He's never done that with a girl before."

"He sent me to
his ranch for a rest. He wasn't even supposed to be there."

"But he came
as soon as he could," Olivia pointed out.

"To supervise
his cattle round up." Even as she said it, Carrin knew it was
wrong.

Olivia
snorted. "He doesn't need to supervise -"

"Okay, maybe
not. But he isn't crazy about me."

"How can you
say that? It's as plain as day."

"He's an
actor; he can be anything he wants. I don't know why he's putting
on this act for you, but I daresay I'll find out."

"Mark doesn't
act anywhere except in front of the cameras. I don't know where you
got all these crazy ideas from, but you're wrong."

Carrin shook
her head. "I know what he's really like, as you must. I've seen
what he's capable of. Even if he was crazy about me, I wouldn't go
out with him." Brave words, she jeered herself.

"What are you
talking about?"

"I'm talking
about him beating up women."

Olivia
recoiled as if she had been slapped in the face. "Mark? That's a
lie! A whopper! Who told you that?"

"Helen showed
me. I saw what he did to her. I saw the bruises on her face the day
after he fired her. The other maid said there was a big scene, lots
of shouting. Helen came back the next day to warn me, and to show
me what he'd done to her."

"Helen!"
Olivia spat the name. "My god, she's capable of anything!"

"It couldn't
have been a lie, the bruises proved it."

"I don't know
how she did it, but Mark would never hit a woman, ever. And by god,
he's had reason to sometimes."

"You're trying
to tell me Helen got someone else to beat her up, or did it
herself? I can't believe that, she's too lovely to damage her own
face."

Olivia shook
her head. "It was a trick, believe me. Wait till Mark hears about
this; he'll be livid."

"No, you
mustn't tell him. He might hurt Helen again."

"He never laid
a finger on Helen, for Pete's sake."

"What if
you're wrong? What if you don't know him as well as you think you
do? You could cause a lot of trouble. Simon's afraid of him, and
Mark threatened him. I was there."

Olivia
snorted. "Simon's an idiot. Maybe he has more to worry about, since
he's a man, but Mark wouldn't harm him without a good reason, like
if he hurt you. Don't you see? Mark's doing everything in his power
to help and protect you. Doesn't that tell you something?"

"Yes." Carrin
paused, and Olivia looked expectant. "That he has some sort of
plan. Some use for me, but I don't know what."

"Oh, Carrin!"
Olivia groaned. "How can you be so suspicious, so ungrateful? Why
can't you see what's going on? It's all so clear."

"Oh, and you
think a superstar like Mark Lord is going to be interested in a
nobody from the back of beyond?" Carrin demanded, instantly
regretting the words. "Like me," she finished miserably.

Pity
blossomed in Olivia's eyes, and Carrin said, "Don't pity me,
Olivia, I can handle it. I never expected to even be his friend,
but believe me, I'd never do anything to jeopardise that. I'm not
ungrateful; I'm trying to repay him in my own way. I know what I
owe him, and even if he did beat up Helen, I'm still his friend.
I'm sure the things that happened to him in his past, being
abandoned and raised in an orphanage, all did damage. I don't blame
him for being the way he is."

"But he's not
the way you think he is -"

"So you say,"
Carrin interrupted, "but I saw Helen's face. I've heard the rumours
about him. I can't trust him, and please don't tell him what I
said. If you do, I'll go back to Africa for good, and I'll never
see him again."

"That's
foolish pride -"

Carrin jumped
up and paced the carpet. "No it isn't. What if you're wrong and I'm
right? What if his visit to you was an act? Maybe he wanted you to
come here and persuade me that he's good and nice. He has something
planned for me. Don't ask me how I know, I just do."

Olivia rose to
her feet. "You're wrong, but I can see that nothing I can say will
change your mind. You'll have to find out the hard way about Mark
Lord. I just wish he wasn't going through so much pain because of
you."

"Pain?" Carrin
glared at her. "He knows nothing about pain, except how to inflict
it." She swung away to hide her expression, and Olivia put a hand
on her shoulder.

"All I can say
is, don't be so quick to judge him, my dear. Don't listen to the
poisoned tongues of bitter women. Hell hath no fury, remember? Keep
an open mind. See for yourself the goodness in him. If you care
about him at all, and I think you do, you'll give him a
chance."

Carrin
could not swallow the lump that blocked her throat, and shook her
head. Olivia patted her shoulder again, then let herself out.
Carrin flung herself into a chair and glared at the wall. Who was
she supposed to believe? Olivia, who owed Mark a debt and would
stand by him no matter what he did? Or Helen and Jenna, rejected
lovers, bitter and vengeful? It was an impossible choice, one that
she refused to make. Perhaps Mark Lord would have to prove to her
what he was, and not with words, for he was an actor - a very good
one.

The
following morning, she tried to phone Birdie before she went to the
studio, and got his voice mail. She did not leave a message. On the
set, Mark was coldly polite again. He completed his fight scene
while Janice watched sulkily from the side lines. At lunchtime,
Carrin slipped out to use a call box outside. The ugly, grating
voice answered.

"Birdie."

"Mr Bird, it's
Samantha Jones. I'm afraid I gave you the wrong number the other
day, so I'm calling back about the story."

"Uh. Oh, yeah.
Well, I've been offered one point two million by Class Acts, you
gonna do better than that?"

"Certainly."
Carrin controlled her excitement. "How about one point five?"

Birdie
grunted. "How about two?"

She tried to
sound reluctant. "Okay, Mr Bird, but that's it."

"Good. You
come to my house tonight, with the money, and you can have the
pictures."

"All
right."

"Alone."

Carrin
experienced a twinge of unease, but quelled it. "Fine."

The phone went
dead. Carrin replaced the receiver and turned, almost having heart
failure when she found Mark standing a few feet away. He held a
glossy magazine.

"Lover boy not
home?"

"I don't have
a lover."

He shook his
head. "You went to see him again on Sunday. Just can't stay away,
huh?"

"Have you been
spying on me?"

"No, I leave
that to the paparazzi." He held out the magazine, and she took it.
A photograph showed her stepping out of Simon's maroon limousine
outside his house. The shot had obviously been taken with a
telephoto lens, but she was clearly recognisable.

Beneath it,
the short article read, 'Carrin York, up-and-coming screenwriter
and author of Mark Lord's latest film, Deadly Games, not yet
released, was seen outside Simon Grey's mansion on Sunday. Is she
the latest dolly bird to visit Simon Grey's nest? One has to wonder
how Mark Lord feels about his writer seeing Hollywood's most
notorious playboy, and his best friend. Perhaps Simon Grey will
star in her next screenplay? The bed-hopping in Hollywood appears
to be on the increase, and this time Mark Lord seems to have lost
out to Simon Grey.'

Carrin could
read no further, and flung the magazine away, then glared at Mark.
"How can you read that rubbish?"

"I don't.
Janice showed me."

"It's not
true. I went back on Sunday to work on his computer. I had some
last minute changes to do."

"Yeah,
sure." He sighed. "You're going to get hurt. But you don't believe
me, I know. Perhaps if you talked to Jenna, she could tell you the
truth about Simon. He's my friend, but he treats women like shit.
He's dumped her."

"So did you,"
she shot back.

"Yes, but I
had a reason."

"I'm sure he
did too, probably the same one. He got tired of her."

"That was his
reason," he agreed, "but it wasn't mine."

"Well I really
don't care how or why you two mistreat women, because I'm not
involved with either of you, thank god. You're a friend and Simon
is an acquaintance, nothing more. Tomorrow my business will be
concluded with him, and then I'll tell you what it was."

"Why not tell
me now?"

"I can't. I'll
tell you tomorrow."

He regarded
her, his beautiful eyes making her want to confess everything just
to make the distrust in them go away.

He nodded.
"All right. I just hope you know what you're doing."

So do I, she
thought. Mark marched back to the set, almost bowling over Gregory,
who had obviously been sent to find him. Carrin smiled as the
flustered assistant fell sheepishly in behind the superstar. Mark's
timing was always good.

For the rest
of the afternoon, she tried to watch the scene being shot, but her
worries about the upcoming meeting with Birdie distracted her.
There was so much that could go wrong. She had to play a part
convincingly, in a disguise. If she failed, she might be in grave
danger. Mark had already told her that she was a lousy actress, and
this added to her worry. What if he was right? What if Birdie smelt
a rat? What would he do?

By the end of
the day, her nerves were jangling like too-tight piano strings, and
she left early to return to her hotel and freshen up. She phoned
Simon and told him the news.

"How much did
he want?" he asked.

"He was
offered one point two million by Class Acts. He asked me for
two."

He gave a low
whistle. "Boy, that guy's got nerve. That's a real easy way to make
money."

"If you've got
the stomach for it."

"Yeah, you'd
have to be a real low-life to do something like that."

"I'm glad you
agree."

"Hey, I'm not
that bad."