Hollywood Sinners

48

Los Angeles



‘A baby.’

The pool cue, carefully chalked at one end and about to break with deadly accuracy, paused mid-shot. Cole looked at his agent across the table like he was mad.

‘A baby,’ he repeated.

‘That’s right.’ Marty King raised a hand to pat his spongy hair. ‘It’s the only answer. Cole, we have to give Lana a baby.’

‘Are you crazy?’ Cole spluttered, not knowing whether to laugh. He took the shot. It broke cleanly, sending the balls darting across the green felt. Two of them potted with a satisfying plunk.

‘No. I’m clever.’ Marty rested on his cue. It was a cool January morning and the men were in the basement games room at Marty’s Bel Air pad.

‘Come on, Marty, listen to yourself. Give her a baby. You’ve got to be kidding.’

Marty watched as Cole took a second shot. ‘It’s a radical suggestion, I know. But hear me out. This wouldn’t just be about Lana–it would be about you.’ He raised a bushy eyebrow. ‘Cole, you gotta admit, fatherhood would be a wise move.’

Cole opened and shut his mouth like a fish. ‘This is insane,’ he hissed, realising Marty was serious.

‘I’ve thought about it carefully,’ said Marty. ‘You should, too.’ He leaned his large frame over the table and lined up his aim. ‘Consider Kate diLaurentis–seven years married to you and no kids, then she shacks up with that funny-guy jackass and all of a sudden she’s getting knocked up all over the joint. You’re not getting any younger, Cole.’ In a clean move he pocketed one, careful not to overtake his client.

‘Forget it,’ snapped Cole, ‘it’s kamikaze.’

Marty stood back. ‘Like I said, I’ve thought everything through. We have options.’

Cole shook his head in disbelief. ‘Like hell we do, Marty. Is this all you’ve come up with? You’ve had since the fall to bring something to the table, and this is it?’ He reached for his glass of mineral water, a wedge of green lime bobbing on the surface. Marty stayed quiet, letting Cole turn things over.

After a moment he said, ‘Do you think people have noticed? I mean …’ He lowered his voice. ‘Do you think people wonder why I don’t have kids?’

Marty puffed out his chest. He thought about how to say it then settled on a truthful, ‘Probably, yes.’

Panic surged. Seeing Michael Benedict at the Romans’ wedding two months ago had freaked him the hell out. When would the old bastard kick the damn bucket? It couldn’t be long now. He’d take the secret with him and finally it would all be over–that day couldn’t come soon enough. In the meantime, it was imperative Cole keep Lana. She was his shield.

A vein became visible in Cole’s temple. Marty knew it was his time to strike.

‘There’s plenty of ways, Cole,’ he said. ‘That’s why I wanted to see you today, talk through the possibilities.’ He chalked his cue.

‘Which are?’

Marty took a deep breath. ‘You must present Lana with this. There’s no way we can do it under wraps, you’ve got to keep her on board.’

Cole’s eyes narrowed. He said nothing.

‘Lana bearing your child will be rewarded handsomely in the contract,’ Marty continued, ‘which, naturally, we would extend for a five-to ten-year period. Her career continues to flourish and she’s a working woman and a fine mother, an inspiration to women everywhere who want to have it all. When the contract terminates, the child remains with you. Lana has regular access but a hectic schedule means you’re the most stable party. You like that, huh? A real family man, Cole; a good father.’

His agent rambled on before Cole could object. ‘This must be a biological child–we’re wasting our time with adoption. Too messy, too passé, and, besides, the point is that everyone thinks the kid’s yours, fruit of your loins and all that.’

Cole grimaced. ‘And how do we go about that?’ he asked, tight-lipped.

A pause. ‘You ever heard of insemination?’

A cold draught passed across the back of Cole’s neck. He laughed in good humour. ‘OK, OK, very good, you got me.’

‘I’m serious.’

‘So am I.’ He lined up the black. ‘It’s preposterous. Lana will never agree to it.’

‘Not at first, but give her time. Let me talk to her–after all, it’ll be my kid she’s carrying.’

Cole straightened, incredulity contorting his features. ‘What did you just say?’

Marty gulped. ‘Well, I–I guessed we’d have to use my—’

‘Explain to me why the hell I wouldn’t do it?’

Marty looked flustered. ‘I just assumed—’

‘You assumed what?’

‘That you couldn’t …’ Marty’s eyes shot to the floor. ‘I didn’t think guys like you could … Look, buddy, I don’t know much about—’

‘You don’t know shit, Marty,’ Cole spat.

Marty nodded dutifully. ‘I don’t know shit.’

Cole spluttered a disgusted laugh. ‘To hell with this insemination plan–I bet you thought you could jump straight into bed with her. This is my wife, Marty. Christ, I haven’t even—’

‘It’s not like that,’ Marty simpered. ‘I just wanted to help. You know I’m the only person who’d do this for you—’

‘Spare me the crap.’ Cole gave his agent a long look. He took the shot. The black dropped neatly into the far pocket.

‘I can do it,’ he said quietly, rolling the cue between his fingers.

Marty waited. He cursed his own stupidity–any other day there’d be a price to pay, but fortunately his client was too preoccupied.

‘I’ve got it covered,’ Marty said eventually. ‘Hear me out.’

Cole sat down. ‘Astonish me.’

‘It’s all about you, Cole, OK? A hundred per cent. We use your …’ Marty looked about him ‘ … your little guys. Lana agrees with the right financial and career incentives. In a year’s time you’re all set: it’s happy families, good-f*ckin’-night-John-Boy. You both sign a new contract–I’m the only one with the information, I sign a confidentiality clause. It’s as good as done.’

Cole sat very still, going through the possibilities.

Michael Benedict can rot in hell.

‘Even if I did consider it,’ he said, ‘even if I did, it’s way too risky. Lana’s never going to agree, not in a million years. Soon as I mention anything she’ll go running to Rita Clay.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ said Marty sagely. ‘Lana knows she’s on to a good thing as Mrs Cole Steel. Security in Hollywood isn’t an easy thing to come by, and that’s not even taking into account what it’ll mean for her moving forward.’ He held his hands up. ‘Just think about it.’

‘I need to think about it,’ echoed Cole, like he hadn’t heard.

‘It’s security for you, too, buddy,’ warned Marty. ‘That’s why I know it’s the perfect plan.’ He waited. ‘But, hey, you think about it all you want, take your time. When you’re ready, you know I’ll be here.’