Hollywood Sinners

63



She was sitting in the foyer on a green silk couch the colour of her eyes. Her face was turned away from him, the delicate line of her profile, the alabaster skin framed by the warmth of her hair. For a moment he watched and remembered her. If this was the last time, he would not forget this picture.

‘Lana.’ He greeted her formally, an acquaintance. Part of him wanted to yell at her. Part of him wanted to kiss her and never stop.

‘Hi.’ She stood, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear in a self-conscious gesture he knew well. ‘I’m sorry to come here unannounced.’

Robert shook his head, the apology unnecessary. ‘It’s fine.’ Perhaps she was in town on business, wanted to drop by on an old friend. Her audacity galled him. She might be able to play make-believe but it gave her no right to assume the same of him.

‘I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes,’ she said, knotting her hands. ‘You see, I …’ She shook her head. ‘God, how do I say this …?’

He waited.

‘I need your help,’ she said finally, meeting his dark eyes. ‘I didn’t know where else to come. It’s silly, I’m sure–you’re busy.’ Her voice cracked.

Robert knew how he was meant to feel. He was meant to hate her, wish her gone, tell her to leave and never come back and stop crashing into his life just when he thought he had his head together. But he couldn’t.

‘Hey.’ He touched her elbow. Then, aware they were attracting attention, ‘Come on, let’s get some privacy.’

They walked in silence. Lana couldn’t tell if he was angry, disappointed, or what. He carried himself with such control, such power–part of it so familiar and part she didn’t know at all. She wanted desperately to rediscover him.

It was an uncomfortable ride to the thirtieth floor. Robert didn’t speak. The fact of her next to him was so unprecedented that it was as if time and place had dislocated, swapping them over, picking them up ten years ago and putting them down here, now, telling them to make fate from whatever was left.

In his office he poured them two large mugs of steaming coffee, while she walked the room and marvelled at its grandeur. She was in awe: she’d known how rich he was, but seeing him again at the heart of his empire, the full force of his efforts made real, words escaped her.

When he passed her coffee their hands met briefly. He went to sit at his desk but then realised how absurd that was-it wasn’t one of his business meetings, it was Lana.

They perched uncomfortably on either end of a low-backed couch.

‘It’s been a long time,’ he said, sipping his coffee too quickly and scalding his top lip. It seemed such a formal thing to say. Language was useless, a distraction.

‘Three months,’ she smiled. She considered adding ‘And eight days’ but thought that might sound creepy.

‘You know what I mean.’

A silence passed, but they were both happy to let it stand.

‘Are you hungry?’ he asked.

‘Actually, I ate already.’

He nodded.

Then she said impulsively, like a confession, ‘I had a burger.’

Robert laughed. She loved that she had made him laugh. ‘Did they offer you a job?’

It was too close. He knew it as soon as he’d said it. Her past waiting tables was too bound up in the pain and the guilt, in her walking out on him. Too near to her brother’s death.

‘Pleased you haven’t lost your appetite, anyway,’ he said, smoothing it over.

‘Thanks!’ She pretended to take offence, relieved he didn’t consider her to be on some Hollywood starvation campaign: she didn’t want to have changed.

There was another silence before he asked, ‘Where’d you go?’ It sounded loaded.

If she noticed, she didn’t let on. ‘I can’t remember. Theo’s Diner, maybe, I think.’

‘There’s better.’

‘There is?’

‘You should’ve asked me first.’ He grinned, wondering where the line was between friendly banter and flirtation. Why was he treading it anyway?

He sipped his coffee again. It was cooler.

‘Lana, tell me why you’re here.’ He said it gently.

She put down her drink. It was a long time before she spoke, trying to put into words the terrible mess she’d made without making him think ill of her.

‘I didn’t know who else to come to,’ she began, rubbing the back of one hand with the fingers of the other. ‘My life is …’ She cleared her head, started again. ‘Sometimes it’s hard to trust people. When something happens, something bad, you need a friend. Right?’

They looked at each other.

‘But these days, with my marriage and everything, it’s not always possible.’ Lana pushed back her hair and gave a nervous laugh. ‘I’m not explaining myself very well, am I?’

‘Go on,’ he said patiently.

She took a deep breath. ‘The thing is, Robbie—Sorry, I mean—’

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to.’

‘The thing is that I’m … I’ve got myself into trouble.’ She breathed out and closed her eyes. ‘And it’s wildly inappropriate to come to you, don’t think I don’t know that. It’s just …’

Her voice dropped and he could tell she was holding back tears. With a sick feeling he knew what was coming next.

‘I’m pregnant,’ she said simply, finally looking at him. ‘Nearly nine weeks. And the baby’s not Cole’s.’

Words didn’t come. Robert was stunned. All he could think was, stupidly, selfishly, Lana’s having a baby and it’s not mine. He stared back at her, dumb.

‘I’m frightened,’ she went on. ‘I need to be able to trust somebody. It’s not your problem, you’re probably the worst person I could ask, and I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry for—’

Robert held up a hand. ‘Stop apologising,’ he said. ‘Don’t apologise again.’ It was all he could say. This was too much to take in.

‘I was foolish, I got carried away–it was my fault. You see, the marriage with Cole isn’t normal. He doesn’t have normal …’ She shook her hands out, uncomfortable with the explanation. ‘Desires.’ She picked up her coffee, thought about it then put it down again. ‘It’s going to sound crazy, because it is crazy, but the marriage is …’ Lana steadied herself. ‘Robert, it’s for business. Do you understand? We’re not in love.’ It felt necessary to clarify it. ‘I don’t love him and he doesn’t love me.’

Her words were like sunlight breaking through clouds. It was madness: she’d just told him she was pregnant by another man, but still his heart rejoiced.

‘I’m frightened,’ she said again. ‘For me and the baby. I’m frightened of Cole.’

Robert let out a long breath. It felt like he’d been holding it for years. Instinctively, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he moved closer and put an arm around her. Her hair smelled of lemons. ‘Don’t be frightened,’ he said quietly. ‘You’ve nothing to be frightened of.’

‘I’ve got myself into such an awful mess. I’m a disaster.’

‘You’re not. You’re never a disaster. Come here.’

She put her forehead against his. It was nothing sexual, just the right thing to do. After a moment he moved away, embarrassed.

‘Cole will find out,’ Lana said, searching his eyes. ‘And when he does, he’ll …’ She glanced away, naked with fear. ‘I don’t know what he’ll do.’

‘Do you know who the father is?’ Robert asked.

Lana was offended. ‘Of course. There’s only been one person.’

Robert nodded stiffly. ‘Do you care for him?’

‘I don’t love him.’

‘Have you told him about the pregnancy?’

She shook her head. ‘Not yet.’

‘You have to.’

‘I know.’

He reached for her hand, held it in his, like he had when they were young. ‘Do you want to keep this baby?’

She didn’t have to think about it at all. She nodded.

A long beat. ‘OK.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘You did the right thing coming to me. I’ll always help you, whatever it is, wherever I am. I’m glad you knew that.’

‘I didn’t know …’ She paused, her heart pounding. ‘After what happened—’

‘Don’t.’ He put a finger to her lips. ‘All that’s gone, it’s over.’

She shook her head. ‘How can it be? How can something like that ever be over?’

‘By letting it go.’ Robert’s voice was fierce. ‘We’ve paid our dues, Lana–we did what we had to and then we moved on.’ He couldn’t look at her. ‘There was no other choice. We both had to survive.’

‘It was my choice, though, wasn’t it? I forced us to do what we did—’

‘Stop.’ He stood up, paced to the window and looked out. ‘I put us in that position, remember? Don’t you ever dare forget it.’

‘I won’t assign blame.’

‘Then stop blaming yourself.’ He turned round, eyes blazing. ‘Your brother’s dead, Lana. Dead. It was ten years ago. He’s gone, he’s not coming back. We’ve served our punishment.’ He indicated the space between them. ‘Can’t you see that?’

She forced back tears. ‘I wish I couldn’t. I’m sorry, Robbie.’

He held up a hand.

‘No, let me finish. I’m sorry for everything you were pulled into, for my short-sighted, thoughtless decisions and my selfishness. But most of all I’m sorry for us. I’ve never admitted it before, not even to myself, but I should never have walked out on you that night. Never. I regret it every single second and will until the day I die.’

He came to her, knelt and took her hands. The distance between them folded away like paper; the ocean of time passed emptied dry.

As he opened his mouth to speak, her cell rang.

‘It’s my agent,’ she told him.

He got to his feet, the moment broken. ‘Pick it up.’

‘I can’t, I’m not ready.’

‘Lana, you can. I’m here. OK? I won’t let anything happen to you.’

She held the blinking phone in her palm. ‘Do you trust this person?’ he asked. ‘She’s my friend.’

‘Then get her out here,’ he instructed. ‘You can’t hide for ever. And we can’t do this by ourselves.’





64



Lana soaked for a long time in the spa tub. Robert had given her the Pagoda Luxury Suite, a revelation of a room thousands of feet in the air, where the tip of the tulip punctured the sky. She was stunned by the size of it–with its separate living, dining and sleeping areas it was half as big again as her own living quarters in Cole’s LA mansion.

He had brought her up an hour before, swiping a gold card to let them in, and taken her to the unbelievable panorama, excited to see her reaction. One entire wall was a curved window looking out to the dazzle of the Strip. Together they had stood, watching the lights. She had wanted badly to hold his hand.

‘I need to find Elisabeth, explain all this,’ he’d said, avoiding her gaze.

‘Of course.’ She’d felt bad. This was a whole new imposition.

‘I’ll have some food sent up, something to drink.’

She had smiled gratefully. ‘Thank you.’ It wasn’t enough.

‘You must be tired. Take a bath, have a rest. Do you need anything …?’ He’d looked down at her stomach. ‘Sorry, I don’t know much about …’

She’d laughed. ‘Neither do I, as it happens. But, no, thanks, I feel good.’

He’d seemed relieved. ‘OK. So …’ He’d looked about him. ‘OK.’ This time they’d both laughed, nervously. ‘I’ll let you know when your friend gets here.’

‘That would be great.’ She’d wanted him to stay, knew he couldn’t.

‘I’ll be back.’ He’d scribbled down a three-digit number. ‘Any problems, use the phone.’

‘All right.’

He had touched her arm when he’d said goodbye. Now, like a teenager, she kept tracing the spot, expecting the mark to show on her skin somehow, so hot was the imprint he’d left behind.

She submerged herself in the fragrant bubbles, letting the afternoon go. Exploring the little silver-capped bottles contained at one end in a reed basket, she washed her hair with a jasmine shampoo and lathered her body, moving in slow, deliberate circles over her tummy.

‘We’ll sort this,’ she told the person inside. ‘You’ll see.’

Afterwards she patted herself dry with a soft towel, ran a comb through her hair and wrapped herself in one of the hotel’s downy white robes. She padded round the rooms for a while, opening cherrywood drawers and closets, fingering the cream silk hangers and the little perfumed sachets hooked on to each one. The linens were crisp and fresh, scented with orange blossom; pillows and cushions were stacked up on the bed, cool to the touch; and beneath her bare feet the plush lilac carpet was thick and soft. She fought an overwhelming desire to sleep.

In the living area a wall-to-wall media centre enclosed a plasma TV, stereo and Mac. Lana fiddled with the cluster of remotes, marvelling at the black glass doors that slid aside to reveal a series of screens, then panicking when they all at once came to life at deafening volume.

‘Shit shit shit!’ She punched some more buttons and the thing died.

There was a knock at the door. Surely Rita hadn’t arrived already? She checked the mantel clock. No, too soon.

Tentatively she peered through the eyehole. It was room service.

Robert had sent up a feast: a sticky platter of barbecue ribs, mini spring rolls and crispy duck with cucumber; silver domes housing wild herb salads, chicken in a lemon sauce with swimming fat green olives, strips of beef in rich black bean sauce, prawns with fresh ginger and spring onion–and the final one, a cheeseburger and fries. She laughed.

It was way too much but, then, she realised sadly, he didn’t know what she liked to eat these days. She took a little from each plate and, feeling comfortably full, poured herself a mug of steaming green tea. With her legs tucked up under her, she settled back to watch an old episode of Frasier.

A half hour later, fighting sleep, she forced herself to dress in a pair of old blue jeans and a grey sweater. She dried her hair and tied it back. Now all she had to do was wait.

Elisabeth frowned. ‘I don’t understand why she’s here,’ she said for the third time. ‘Hasn’t she got anywhere else to go?’

She’d emerged from the Orient gym and spa an hour ago. There had been an urgent message asking her to phone her fiancé. Now they were in his office. Elisabeth wished she could get in the shower–this afternoon had been non-stop.

Robert leaned back on his desk. ‘Darling, she needs our help.’

‘I should say so,’ said Elisabeth, pacing the room. She turned to him. ‘I asked if you two had history and you said you’d never met. You lied, Robert.’

‘I know I did. I’m sorry.’

‘Why the big secret?’ She lifted her chin.

He swallowed hard. ‘There isn’t a big secret.’

‘So, what, you used to be friends when you were kids—’

‘Yes.’

‘And then you fell out of touch.’

‘Yes.’

‘And now she’s here, asking for your help.’

‘That’s right.’

‘You’ve taken me for a fool once, Robert, don’t do it again. There’s more to it than that.’

‘Why should there be?’ He stood up and poured himself a drink.

Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. ‘I knew there was something between you,’ she said, not unkindly. ‘You made it so obvious. You couldn’t even handle hearing her name.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Then tell me what is.’

Robert went to her. ‘OK. We dated for a while,’ he said. ‘It ended. She moved away. That’s it.’

A flicker of hurt. ‘Why did you split?’

He hesitated, grappling for the edited story he’d told so many times when Lana had first walked out on him. ‘We grew apart,’ he said, which was the truth. ‘Things changed. We changed.’

She looked up at him. ‘It sounds serious.’

‘It was, for a while.’

‘Who did it?’

‘What?’

‘The break-up. Who did it?’

Robert tried a laugh. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Yes.’

‘She did. She left me.’

Elisabeth nodded. ‘Did you love her?’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘Yes.’

Her expression slipped. ‘Do you still love her?’

‘No.’

She let out a breath. ‘Fine.’ A pause. ‘I get that you still care for each other, I get that you want to help.’

‘Thank you.’ He kissed her forehead, which tasted salty.

‘And I won’t tell anyone about the pregnancy.’

‘I appreciate it.’ Robert embraced her. Over her shoulder his eyes hardened. ‘And the thing about Lana and I growing up together … no one needs to know about that, OK? It just complicates things.’

Elisabeth smiled tightly. ‘Makes no difference to me.’

‘Oh.’ He put a hand to his head, remembering. ‘Bellini said you wanted me.’

She balled her fists. ‘He did?’

‘Just something he mentioned. I know I’ve been difficult to catch. What is it?’

‘Nothing.’ She looked away. What the hell was Alberto playing at? Did he think he could force her into a confession?

Oh, Robert, darling, before you go, I’ve been having mind-blowing sex with another man. Who? Well, you’ll never guess …

‘Are you sure?’

She laughed it off. ‘Of course. I don’t even know what he’s talking about.’

Robert frowned. ‘OK.’

‘You’d better get back to Lana,’ she said, turning the tables. She grabbed her things and headed for the door.

‘Elisabeth?’ he called.

She turned.

‘Thank you.’

With a brief nod she stepped out and closed it behind her. She had to find Alberto, straighten out whatever game he was playing. It worried her more, she realised, than any revelation concerning Lana’s arrival.

As she summoned the elevator, Elisabeth knew that she was delivering Robert into the arms of another woman. What’s more, she was walking in the opposite direction.





65



Rita Clay arrived at the Orient in a gust of efficiency. She wasn’t happy about making the journey and even less happy at the position Lana had put them in. However, now wasn’t the time. They had a contract to unpick.

A staggeringly handsome man met her in the foyer, delivered a firm, no-nonsense handshake and asked about her flight from LA in a warm, straightforward manner. When Lana had told her where she was, Rita hadn’t been surprised. She had mentioned Robert St Louis before and it was clear a past was brewing between them. There had been more to this than a brief fling.

‘It’s kind of you to let her stay,’ said Rita as they walked through the lobby. ‘Has she been frank with you about her situation?’

‘Yes,’ said Robert. ‘I know about the baby, and my fiancée Elisabeth does, too.’ At Rita’s alarmed expression, he clarified, ‘Lana explained the nature of her marriage but that I’ve kept to myself. You can be assured that nothing we discussed, or will discuss, will go any further.’

Rita knew she could do business with this man.

Upstairs was spectacular. When Lana found a hide-out, she sure found a good one: the Pagoda Suite was one of the most opulent she had ever laid eyes on.

The women embraced. Rita rested a hand on her client’s stomach and they both smiled at the wonder of it. Despite everything, Lana was still carrying a baby.

Immediately they got down to discussions, which pleased Rita–there would be time for pleasantries later. Robert, who had cancelled the following morning’s meetings, poured drinks in preparation for the night ahead.

‘How’s Cole?’ asked Lana.

Rita extracted some papers from her bag. ‘Fuming.’

‘Shit.’

‘You could say that.’ Rita looked at her directly. ‘You realise he knows about the baby?’

‘What?’ Lana gasped. ‘How?’

‘He found the test.’

‘In my bathroom?’

‘Yes.’

‘How did he …? I mean, it’s private. I’m the only one with access.’

‘It seems not.’

Lana was appalled. ‘It’s against the terms of the contract!’

‘So is your pregnancy,’ said Rita.

Lana shut up.

Robert looked between them, baffled by what he was hearing.

He knew contractual partnerships existed in Hollywood but he’d never really thought about the logistics. It was impossible to think that Lana, with all her heart and soul, was caught up in one.

‘But Cole finding out like this will play in our favour,’ Rita continued. ‘Think of it like reading something bad about yourself in a friend’s journal. You shouldn’t have looked in the first place, right? It’s leverage.’

Lana sat back, shaking her head. ‘I’m shocked he didn’t come with you.’

Rita laughed drily. ‘Believe me, he wanted to. In the end I persuaded him I had a better chance of bringing you back by myself.’ Her eyes flicked to Robert, his handsome face composed. ‘Probably a good idea.’

‘So what now?’ asked Lana.

Rita passed her a file. ‘Our argument,’ she said. ‘I’ve spoken with Rachel Manelli, she’s prepared to represent you.’ Rachel Manelli was the sharpest lawyer on the west coast–she specialised in acrimonious divorces, especially where delicate PR was paramount.

‘Wow,’ said Lana, ‘this is really happening.’

Rita nodded. ‘You made it happen, kiddo.’ She fished a cigarette out of her bag and prepared to light it. Remembering Lana, she went to the window, opened it and leaned out. ‘For the moment Cole thinks you’ll go back to the marriage,’ she said, blowing out smoke, ‘and I’m happy for him to continue thinking that.’

Robert frowned. ‘But how would he …?’

Rita raised a sharp eyebrow. ‘A man like Cole has ways. At a guess he’ll want to keep the baby, pass it off as his. But then you’ve got to prepare yourself for the other possibility.’

Lana shook her head. ‘What’s that?’

‘That he’ll request you get rid of it.’

‘That’s not happening.’

Rita pulled on her cigarette. ‘I know. That’s why we’re not giving him the option.’

Lana examined the papers.

‘I’m already on to Katharine,’ said Rita. ‘We’ll get you through the hoops; clean up the story as far as we can.’

‘What about the premiere?’ asked Robert.

‘There’ll be speculation,’ said Lana, ‘there always is. We’ve played up to it before, on Cole’s direction.’ A dry laugh. ‘Except this time it’s for real.’

‘I mean with your husband,’ he said gently.

Lana let out a long breath. ‘I guess we’ll keep the marriage together until after then.’ She looked to her agent. ‘Right?’

‘Right. Cole won’t argue–it’d be a publicity nightmare for him as well. Maybe worse.’ Then she asked, ‘What about Parker Troy?’

Lana was surprised. ‘How did you know?’

‘I’m a mind-reader.’ Rita tried a smile. ‘You had a glow about you on set, kept wanting to buy time. When I found out about the pregnancy, it wasn’t hard to guess who the father was.’ She noticed Robert’s discomfort and wondered why, since these two clearly still had feelings for each other, they had split in the first place.

‘He doesn’t know,’ admitted Lana. ‘I’ve been putting it off.’

‘Put it off no longer.’

‘Shouldn’t we wait? I don’t know, till I’ve sorted things with Cole?’ She knew she was being a coward.

Rita made a so-so gesture. ‘It’s complicated enough already, don’t you think? Let’s thrash everything out at once.’ She smiled at Robert. ‘Always the way I like it. And besides, this is something you’ve got to be straight with Parker about. He’s the father; he’s got rights.’

Lana looked at Robert, who nodded in agreement. ‘You have to tell him,’ he said. ‘I’d want to know.’

‘So what about the short term?’ She touched her stomach. ‘How do I face Cole?’

Rita stubbed out her cigarette and sent the glowing end into the night.

‘You’re not going back to that house just yet, that’s for sure.’ She drew the window shut. ‘You’ll crash with me, I’ve got the room.’

‘No,’ interjected Robert, ‘she’ll stay here. It’s safer–at least while you’re in negotiations. Soon as things start moving, let us know.’

Rita hesitated. ‘Lana?’

‘Really, I couldn’t—’

‘Good, that’s settled.’ He stood up. ‘Afraid I’ll have to move you, though–I’m losing tens of thousands a night.’ He winked.

‘Of course,’ she said, embarrassed at his generosity. ‘Anywhere is fine, anywhere at all.’

‘I’m kidding.’

Rita scribbled something down on a piece of paper. ‘It shouldn’t be more than a week, maybe two. I’ll call you.’

Lana watched her friend. ‘Rita, thank you,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I got us here.’

Rita brushed her off, never one to get sentimental. ‘It’s my job.’

‘I’m grateful.’

She squeezed Lana’s arm. ‘I know.’ ‘Are you flying out tonight?’ asked Robert. ‘I’ve got a meeting first thing.’ ‘We’ll organise a car.’

‘Thanks.’ She smiled. ‘You’ll take care of her?’ He nodded once. ‘She’ll be safe here. I’ll make sure of it.’