Hollywood Sinners

78

Los Angeles



Lana was collected from the airport by one of Cole’s drivers. She’d thought he might have come himself but guessed he’d worry about media attention–it was safer to maintain that his wife had been away on business and that nothing was out of the ordinary.

Behind the blacked-out windows, the lights of Vegas seemed to belong to another lifetime, even though she’d left them only hours ago. She was dreading confronting Cole but she had to go back–it was part of the agreement. The marriage, or at least the image of one, had to be sustained until the post-premiere split. They would endeavour to keep apart over the coming weeks, but a conversation had to take place. What would he say to her? What would he do?

Minutes later they arrived at the mansion. It was as quiet and still as a dead person’s house.

Lana headed straight to her rooms, remembering the warmth of the Orient and how it had felt more like a home over the past two weeks than this place ever had. Smiling, she thought of Robert. When this was over, a new life would begin. The thought of being with him again, properly being with him after all this time apart, made her weak with longing.

She felt bad when she thought of Elisabeth. Lana liked her–it would be easier if she didn’t. Their conversation last night had been stilted, uncomfortable, loaded with uncertainties. Lana hadn’t been sure what to say, how to say it, how much Elisabeth knew.

She walked around her quarters, as if to reclaim them, stopping for a moment at the window. Looking out at Cole’s grounds, remembering the route of her perilous escape, she had the strange sensation of being watched. On impulse she turned away and pulled the blind, her pulse racing. A marriage of surveillance had made her jumpy.

Lana showered and changed. When she was out, Rita called.

‘Everything OK?’

‘I’m just back,’ she said, running a comb through her wet hair. ‘I haven’t seen him yet.’

‘You know I’m here if you need me. Right?’

‘Right.’

Lana’s intercom buzzed, startling her. It would be her husband.

She reassured Rita a final time and moved to answer it. ‘Hello?’

‘Lana, it’s me.’

‘Hi,’ she said quietly.

‘Hi.’

There was a pause. ‘Can I talk to you?’ Cole didn’t sound like himself–this wasn’t the cold, hard voice of the betrayed. He was composed. Hopeful, even.

Minutes later she came to the top of the stairs. He was pacing the marble floor in a tight black turtleneck and loose-fitting slacks. Her first impression was that he looked like a dancer.

‘How are things?’ she asked, tentatively making her way down.

‘I’ve been better,’ he said, not unkindly. She saw there were dark circles under his eyes. ‘Come, sit. I want to talk to you. And I want you to listen very carefully.’





79



Finally he had seen her. And it was worth the wait. Oh, was it worth it.

Lester had been flicking through a dirty magazine when a sleek black Mercedes had pulled into Cole Steel’s drive. Manoeuvring the Saab to the east of the mansion, he had parked and waited to see who emerged. Two fearsome-looking dogs had sniffed hungrily at the car. The passenger had been obscured–he saw a burly man open the door, his back thick as a wall. Cursing, Lester had fumbled for the binoculars, but by the time he’d found them it was too late.

A light had gone on in an upstairs window. Lester had exited the vehicle and crept round the perimeter. He’d been shaking with anticipation.

That was when she showed herself to him.

That soft chestnut hair, falling in waves around her shoulders. That beautiful face, so innocent until that filthy sonofabitch got his hands on her. That body, the one he had known so well when she was a girl. She had been so desperate to take her clothes off then, to let him feast his eyes on her adolescence. What would she be like now? He could see her new shape and he wanted it.

Lester closed his eyes to imagine. He put his nose up to the fence and inhaled deeply, as if he could smell her.

Murdering bitch!

She still had him cast under her terrible spell. But not for much longer. The time to reveal himself was getting close. Vegas was close. And with it the moment of his exquisite revenge.

He sat against a tree, panting hard. The light was fading; shadows crept in, stretching across the street, pooling beneath his car.

Up in the mansion his sister pulled the curtains, hiding herself from view.

Temptress. Killer.

He’d make her pay. She didn’t know it yet, but her world was about to end.





80



Cole ran his tongue across his bottom lip, deciding how to word what came next.

‘I’m going to say a few things,’ he told her, ‘and I don’t want you to come in until I’ve finished.’ He wiped his palms on his trousers and she could tell he was nervous. ‘All right?’

She nodded.

‘I want you to stay.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Despite what you’ve done, I want this marriage to continue. It won’t matter that the baby isn’t mine–I will still maintain you both as if it were.’ He fixed his gaze on her. ‘It is vitally important that you continue to be my wife. The father of this child will receive a handsome sum to stay out of our lives.’ He omitted the fact that an operation was currently under way to find out exactly who that was. The only place this guy would be staying was in the seat of a wheelchair.

‘Think about it, Lana, just for a moment. Here, as my wife, you have security. You have protection, money, support.’ He drew out his ace. ‘I know you didn’t have the best start in life. It doesn’t have to be that way for this child. This child will have everything he or she could possibly want. The best education money can buy. The best opportunities. This child will never be out in the cold, or hungry, or’–his voice shook–’taken advantage of. If you don’t want to stay married to me for your own sake, consider your child.’

Lana was shocked. ‘Your generosity is more than I deserve.’ She meant it. ‘But I can’t stay, Cole. I’m not happy … This marriage is a fake. I want my child to know the difference: to have a real life, as close to an ordinary life as I can give.’

‘This is real life!’ objected Cole. ‘We’re rich, OK, and people know who we are, but it doesn’t change things that much.’

‘What we have isn’t normal.’

‘What’s normal?’

She grappled for the words. ‘Love, honesty, truth …’

He groaned. ‘Wake up, Lana; it’s a fantasy–a white-picket-fence fantasy. Don’t you see? Our marriage is like countless others, all over the world. Everywhere you look, people like us, in marriages like ours, and I’ll tell you why. We barely see each other, we barely talk, we keep secrets, we make out like we’re happy when we’re not.’ He waited. ‘Has it ever occurred to you that I’m unhappy?’ He held his arms out. ‘Has it? You forget I have feelings, too, Lana.’

She opened her mouth to speak.

‘You forget because we’re estranged, just like the rest of them. But at least we acknowledge it. We’ve built a structure that enables us to operate in set parameters. That’s “normal". Not your fantasy love story.’

‘"Operate in set parameters"? Cole, don’t you want more? Don’t you want passion?’

He laughed grimly. ‘Passion is nothing but weakness. Sordid weakness. You just have to step outside to see how it’s torn this town apart. Passion destroys.’

Lana shook her head. ‘I know that kind of happiness exists. You can’t tell me different.’

‘Only in the movies, Lana. We do a good job of convincing them, don’t we?’ He poured himself a Scotch and threw it back in one. ‘You want reality? Take a look around. This is it.’

‘I don’t believe that.’

A flash of the Cole she knew better. ‘I knew this would be the problem in taking a younger wife. All the damn naivety.’

‘I’m not naive,’ she countered. ‘I’m hopeful. There’s a difference, and there’s our difference. You’ve given up–I haven’t. That’s why we can never work, no matter what parameters you set.’

Cole’s expression closed, sudden and final as a light being switched off.

‘I am so sorry for what I’ve put you through,’ she went on. ‘You needn’t be so good as to offer me this and I’m aware of that. But it doesn’t change anything. After Vegas I want out.’ She touched her stomach. ‘This has changed me, Cole. When I first came to Hollywood I was set on this life–I wanted it. I wanted to be your wife. I wanted to get as far away from the place I’d come as I could. God. This marriage was all about the next role. The next role was all about Eastern

Sky. Eastern Sky was all about the Award nomination. The nomination was all about …’

She shrugged. ‘Isn’t it funny–I don’t even know any more. It’s heartless. It doesn’t have a soul. And if you want to take me down, go right ahead. I probably deserve it. The thing is, I no longer care. It’s not what’s important, none of it.’

Cole regarded her sadly. ‘You’re living on another planet, Lana. This one thrives on business. Not your love-struck idle philosophies.’

Lana let his words settle but she could not adopt them as her own. With Cole she was forever arguing that black was white–they belonged to different worlds.

He came to sit next to her, defeated.

‘I promise to keep my word,’ she told him gently. ‘I’ll take the force of this, not you.’

He dropped his face in his hands and shook his head.

‘I’ll never reveal us,’ she went on. ‘Cole, I know this is desperate for you. I know the circumstances are impossible. I know it’s the hardest thing …’

‘You don’t know how I got here.’

‘You don’t know how I did.’

He laughed emptily. ‘Believe it or not, Lana, I am not a cruel man.’ He stared ahead, his expression unreadable.

She took his hand. It was small and cold. ‘I know you’re not,’ she said. ‘I do know that.’





81



They arranged to meet in a disused underground parking lot downtown.

Chloe arrived before him and waited nervously in the lot, thinking about what she would say. Her hair tied back, she wore muted greys and blacks: it was a safe place, according to Jimmy, and she guessed he’d know, but she’d felt paranoid the past week and wanted to stay firmly off the radar.

As she was beginning to think he’d blown her out, she saw Jimmy loping towards her across the empty lot in his familiar, clumsy gait. The pad of his footsteps echoed around the space.

‘Sorry, got caught up,’ he panted, immediately feeling his pockets for a cigarette packet. She guessed he was all out as his hands came up empty.

‘No worries,’ she said. ‘We should keep this brief.’

‘Yeah.’ He looked agitated.

‘I just wanted to make sure we were cool. You know, about everything.’

‘Sure,’ he said, eyes darting at every noise.

‘You’re married.’

‘So I am.’

Chloe nodded. ‘We don’t need to speak about this again, OK? To anyone.’

Jimmy was affronted. ‘You think I want to go shouting it from the rooftops?’ he hissed. ‘I’m happy with Kate.’

‘I’m glad.’

‘We’ve decided to give it another go, properly this time.’ He shrugged. He was so tall and cartoonish-looking that it was like a wooden puppet whose strings someone was operating from above. ‘I’m a changed man.’

‘Of course you are.’

He didn’t pick up on her tone. Instead he scuffed his trainers on the ground. ‘It was fun.’

‘Yeah.’ Chloe leaned back against the wall, folded her arms and looked away. It was stupid to feel even a note of rejection, but still she experienced a twinge in all the vulnerable places. Though she didn’t want to pursue things, she still felt ultimately, perversely, discarded.

‘OK,’ he said.

‘OK,’ she said. She cleared her throat. ‘Good luck.’

Jimmy smiled. Briefly he wondered if there was an outside chance of a for-old-times’-sake blow job, but it seemed inappropriate to ask.

‘Goodbye, then.’ He bowed his head a little. If it had been a hundred years ago, Chloe thought, he would have doffed his cap. She nodded.

‘See ya.’ It was meant to come out casual but just sounded juvenile.

Job done, Jimmy turned and lurched off, hands buried in his pockets. Chloe watched him go, made sure he was out of sight before she followed. It’s over.

White relief washed over her, brighter still as she followed his trail and emerged into the LA sunlight. Now she could focus on the premiere without any distractions. Pulling a cap down over her ears, she headed for her Jeep.

Suddenly her phone buzzed in the back pocket of her jeans. The thought flitted across her mind that it was Jimmy, pleading a change of heart. It had better not be. She wanted to forget the whole damn thing ever happened.

It was a text message, from a number she didn’t recognise. Thinking it was someone at the agency, she opened it.





Who’s been sleeping with my husband?

Chloe stopped. The person behind knocked into her, snatching her breath.

She stared at the screen. The words stared back. Frantically she dialled Jimmy’s number. It went straight to answer phone. She tried again and the same thing happened.

A dizzy sensation throttled her. It felt like she was in water, feeling for the bottom but her feet didn’t touch the ground.

Hands shaking, she redialled. As it connected, another message came through.



I know who.

See you in Vegas, darling.





82



Kate pulled up on the gravelled drive, opened the door to the Escalade and dragged out a mountain of shopping bags. Acquisition of a new wardrobe topped off with a rejuvenating spa session, it had been the perfect morning.

As she headed up to the house, Kate caught her reflection in the window of Jimmy’s Mercedes. She liked what she saw. Her surgeon was a very clever man. His efforts, combined with daily work-outs, a good diet and once-a-week therapy, had worked wonders. She was still the old Kate diLaurentis–except now she wasn’t old.

It was one-thirty. Excellent. She would have lunch with the children, wear herself out sufficiently with the idle chitchat they required, then head out to the pool for a swim. That should pretty much fill the day.

With great pleasure Kate extracted her purchases from their huge, crisp white paper bags, holding them up to admire the wisdom of her choices. This time only a few months ago she would never have had the confidence to wear anything like this. Buckled ankle boots, a gorgeous prom-style mini-dress, tangled piles of statement chain jewellery. Her new stylist had put her firmly on the fashion pulse.

Admittedly it wasn’t just her body that had changed, but her attitude, too. Which was just as well: her new image was set to be unveiled at the Eastern Sky premiere, the perfect showcase for her imminent comeback. With Jimmy on her arm, silencing critics who suggested their marriage was in crisis, it meant maximum publicity–and all of it positive, for a change. She couldn’t wait to see the papers the next day, could imagine the headlines now: Stunning Kate: Naughty at Forty, etc., etc.

She repacked the purchases and poured herself a glass of iced water–excellent for suppressing the appetite, according to her dietician. The lawn sprinklers were on, drenching the garden in watery beads that glittered in the sunlight. Kate felt good.

The messages had been inspired. What she had planned for Chloe French was the ultimate humiliation–just as the girl had humiliated her–but this made for a fabulous prelude.

She heard the door go.

‘Kate, are you home?’

Jimmy entered the kitchen, a wide smile splitting his face. He was brandishing the most enormous bouquet she had ever seen. Unexpectedly he kissed her on the cheek.

‘You look beautiful,’ he said, standing back to appraise her.

‘Thank you,’ she smiled, graciously accepting the flowers and the compliment. Reclaiming her husband’s attentions was certainly agreeable.

‘How was your morning?’ he asked, desperate to please.

‘No complaints.’ She nodded to the shopping bags and they smiled at each other, a little uncomfortably. It was as if they’d forgotten how to communicate outside an argument.

She turned her back to fetch a vase. ‘And yours?’

When she came back round, Jimmy was on his knees.

‘Jimmy, what—’

‘Kate, listen,’ he said, producing something from the pocket of his denim jacket. A small, square, velvet box. ‘I’ve f*cked up. Believe me, I know that. But from now on, no more bullshit, no more lies. I promise you, I’ve changed. I love you. I want us to be happy again; I want our family to work. Can you find it in your heart to give me another chance? I’ve had more than I deserve but I’m not too proud to ask for one more. You can trust me, Kate–I give you my word.’ He opened the box to reveal a massive, winking cluster of diamonds. ‘Be my wife again.’

Kate was stunned. She didn’t know what to say. Many times she had imagined Jimmy realising the error of his ways, sometimes with a passionate declaration such as this, but she’d never once thought he’d actually manage it. It was pleasing … very pleasing. But after years of infidelity, could she really believe him?

That diamond was rather spectacular. Carefully she placed the vase down.

‘Jimmy, you hurt me.’ She shook her head. ‘Over and over.’

Jimmy gave the box a little lift, as if to remind her it was there. ‘I realise that, Kate, honest to God. But I want to show you that I can make it right. Let me prove it to you.’

‘The affairs are over?’ She attempted to keep the bitterness from her voice. ‘All of them?’

‘All of them.’ He gazed up at her solemnly, like someone in church.

She was unconvinced.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’ll be truthful, so you know the lies stop here, now, today. I was seeing a girl. But I called it off, OK? I called it off. I didn’t want her any more. I realised I wanted you.’

Kate arched an eyebrow. ‘You didn’t want her?’

‘I didn’t want her.’ A beat. ‘We can work through this, Kate. Together, we can do anything. You, me and the kids.’ He put a hand on his heart. ‘You’re my woman.’

It was sweet, she had to give him that. And it was all she’d wanted to hear since she’d first learned he was playing around. This was her opportunity to reclaim her husband–on her terms.

Now there was just one last thing to overcome.

Saying nothing, Kate drew up her skirt and peeled off her knickers, looping one foot through and then the other. She did it slowly. Jimmy, still on his knees, watched transfixed, the box open in his hand like a shell. He was like a boy at the seaside.

She plucked the ring from him, examined it and put it on the very end of her finger, holding it there with her thumb. Taking a step closer, she positioned herself in front of him.

‘If you want me back, Jimmy Hart,’ she murmured, hooking one leg over his shoulder and drawing him close, ‘I’m open to persuasion.’





83

Las Vegas



‘Take a look at this,’ said Bernstein, sliding his plans across to Robert.

It was a month before the premiere and the two men were in Bernstein’s office, finalising plans for accommodation. It wasn’t just the Orient that needed to deliver: the Parthenon was putting up some big names, too. Securing Kate diLaurentis and Jimmy Hart was a big coup–they wanted the biggest stars, and the more the better.

Robert scanned the designs. Each of the Parthenon’s luxury suites had been assigned a guest, each one stocked with vintage champagne and hampers packed with personalised gourmet luxuries: the star’s favourite beverage, canapé, chosen brand of cigarettes. All rooms were tailored exclusively in discreet but impressive detail, from the denier of their bed linen to the down of their pillows.

‘I’m pleased,’ said Robert. ‘This puts us a cut above.’

Bernstein sat back, puffing out his chest. There had been a strained atmosphere between the two men since their altercation over the slot hustlers.

‘You gonna tell me what’s going on, St Louis?’ Bernstein put his fingertips together.

‘Excuse me?’

‘With you and my daughter.’

Robert gave nothing away. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Elisabeth’s upset.’

He was surprised. ‘She is?’

Bernstein nodded.

‘Why?’

‘And now she’s gettin’ ideas in her head about the wedding.’

Robert shuffled the papers. ‘She and I need to talk about that,’ he said.

‘You’re askin’ me why, kid.’ Bernstein was impatient. ‘Why d’you think?’

‘I don’t know what you’re getting at, Bernstein.’

‘That Hollywood piece showing up here out of nowhere, that’s what I’m getting at. You runnin’ after her like she’s got your balls on a leash.’

‘I was hardly going to turn Lana Falcon away, was I?’ Robert met his gaze. ‘Don’t be stupid, Bernstein.’

‘By all accounts you certainly treated her well.’

‘I’m not clear what you mean.’

‘Elisabeth’s cut up about it, y’know.’ He sat back, narrowing his eyes. ‘Thinks you’ve not been payin’ her the attention she deserves.’

‘That doesn’t sound like Elisabeth.’

‘Maybe you don’t know her as well as you thought.’

Robert felt his temper flare. ‘Is it Elisabeth that thinks all this, Bernstein, or you?’

‘Careful, son.’

‘No, you be careful–get your facts straight before you throw accusations about.’ He watched the other man. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of Elisabeth for days. I haven’t seen her in a week. She’s ignoring my calls.’

‘She’s been gettin’ ready for the show, ain’t she?’

‘I didn’t think you supported her performance.’

Bernstein waved away the suggestion. ‘It’s one night. She’ll see sense once all the excitement’s over.’

Robert shook his head. ‘You just don’t let up, do you?’

‘I have my reasons.’

‘I’d love to know what they are.’

A twitch went by Bernstein’s eye. ‘This family’s more complicated than you think. Your wedding is the best thing for Elisabeth, I’ve seen the way she’s been gettin’ attention and I’m tellin’ you, I don’t like it.’

‘Oh?’

Bernstein cleared his throat. ‘Goddamn Bellini, for one. He’s had his eye on Elisabeth since she was sixteen, chasin’ after her like some lovesick pup.’

Robert laughed. ‘Bellini? Come on. Elisabeth laughs off his attentions–we both do.’

‘I’ve done everythin’ in my power to keep him clear, it’s not easy.’

‘Somehow I don’t think she’s tempted.’

‘Maybe not.’ He stood up. ‘But I’m not willing to take the risk. Becoming Mrs St Louis will see to that.’

Robert joined him. ‘Do you know where she is?’

The other man didn’t reply.

‘Bernstein?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Do you know where she is?’ Robert pulled on his suit jacket. He had to find Elisabeth and set the record straight.

‘She’s downstairs,’ said Bernstein slowly, as if an idea was occurring to him. ‘She’s runnin’ through her number in the Hellenic.’ He pushed back his chair. ‘She and I need to talk, I’m goin’ down.’

Robert frowned. ‘I’ll walk with you.’

Elisabeth delivered the final note with a great flourish, raising her slender arms high in the air. She held it long after the recorded piano accompaniment had expired.

Alberto Bellini, seated in the shadows of the Parthenon’s empty Hellenic Theatre, waited until he was sure she had finished. He clapped his hands in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

‘What did you think?’ she asked, breathless, her chest rising and falling beneath a tight cream sweater.

Alberto raised a finely plucked eyebrow and crossed his legs. ‘Enchanting, bellissima.’

Elisabeth made a face and came down from the stage. ‘You’re biased.’

‘I tell you only the truth, my love,’ said Alberto, holding out his arms to receive her.

As they embraced, he bent to kiss her painted lips. Worried, she looked about. The theatre was dark. Anyone could be watching.

‘We mustn’t,’ she said hastily, pulling away.

Alberto released a low chuckle, pulling at her earlobe with his teeth. ‘Oh, but we must.’

Elisabeth made a feeble attempt to break free from his arms, but eventually surrendered, breathing in his musky scent as he nuzzled her neck, kissing and biting the soft dip by her collarbone.

She had taken to practising here at the Parthenon, where the acoustics were comparable–the space she would perform in at the Orient was overrun with preparations and, besides, she had been avoiding Robert. Alberto had been pushing her on a confession, and each time she promised it would be the next time she saw her fiancé. So far, she hadn’t broken that promise.

Alberto lifted her chin and kissed her again, looping his arms about her waist. She felt the cool metal of his rings and reached up to touch his thick white hair. He pushed her back against a row of seats, lifting her legs and pulling them round.

Elisabeth reached down to free him, recognising he needed a little more encouragement. He took a long time to get hard, and sometimes he didn’t manage it at all, but when he did it was worth the wait.

His hands moved up to her breasts, stroked her through the soft cashmere. Deftly she unbuckled him and his suit pants fell to the ground. She ran her fingers down the length of him, coaxing his shy beast from its lair. Their kissing became fevered, Alberto making grunting noises out his nose, and Elisabeth peeled off her top to reveal the assets he loved best. Like a starved man he dived to release them from her lace brassiere.

Suddenly the door to the auditorium opened. A shaft of bright light cut across the two semi-naked figures, tangled in the oblivion of their desire.

Elisabeth cried out, clamping her hands to cover herself.

Alberto fumbled to hoist up his pants and tripped over on to the floor, his bare ass bobbing in the darkness like a buoy on the sea.

Elisabeth gasped in horror.

Two men stood in the entrance. It was Robert and her father.





84



‘What the hell are you doing?’ squealed Elisabeth, turning away to fasten her bra. Her cheeks raged hot with embarrassment. Alberto hauled himself up, dressing silently with all the dignity he could muster.

Robert was stunned. He couldn’t speak.

Bernstein’s face had gone completely white. He made a gagging noise at the back of his throat. His arms flailed out, groping for something to hold on to.

‘My God!’ Elisabeth’s shame morphed into anger. ‘Have you never heard of privacy?’ She tugged the sweater over her head, folding her arms to conceal her shaking hands. She had never felt so mortified in her whole entire life. ‘God!’ she said again.

Bernstein looked from one to the other, their semi-clad bodies like something out of his worst nightmare. His mouth was dry.

‘What the f*ck’s going on here, Elisabeth?’ He thought he might be sick. ‘This had better not be what it looks like.’

Alberto moved towards the door. ‘I think I will leave you to discuss this—’

Bernstein found his roar. ‘I swear to God, this had better not be what it looks like!’

Robert put a hand out. ‘Bellini, you’re not going anywhere,’ he said evenly, his mind flipping slowly into gear. What sort of twisted game was Elisabeth playing? Alberto Bellini? It was unfathomable. He couldn’t shift the image of the old man’s aged body bent over his youthful fiancée, feasting on her like a vulture.

‘Will somebody please tell me what’s happening?’ Robert demanded, addressing Elisabeth, whose eyes darted to the floor.

‘We’re having an affair,’ she said quietly. He heard Bernstein emit a low groan and slump to his knees.

‘What?’ Robert put a hand to his ear. ‘I didn’t quite catch that.’

‘We’re having an affair.’ It was louder this time. Still she didn’t look at him.

Bernstein was shaking his head, over and over. ‘No, Elisabeth, you don’t understand—’

Robert stopped him. ‘Stay out of this, Bernstein; it’s nothing to do with you.’

‘Do not blame her, St Louis.’ Alberto stepped forward. ‘I confess that I—’

‘Enough!’ Robert’s voice boomed round the walls, sending echoes winging all around. He kept his eyes on Elisabeth, his expression wounded.

‘How long has this been going on?’ he asked. ‘Be truthful.’

Her bottom lip wobbled. ‘Since we came back from France.’

He leaned in. ‘You’re going to have to speak up.’

‘Since we came back from France.’ She met his gaze, defiance burning.

‘That long?’ Robert shook his head. ‘How …?’

‘Elisabeth, no.’ Bernstein’s voice cracked and splintered. ‘You don’t understand what you’ve done.’

She ignored him. ‘What was I supposed to do, Robert? You didn’t want to marry me.’

Robert was mystified. ‘Am I missing something here? I am marrying you. At least—’

‘At least you had to in the end.’

‘Don’t you turn this on me.’

‘Because my father was pressuring you into it.’ Elisabeth refused to back down. She turned to Bernstein. ‘Right?’

Bernstein shook his head, mute. ‘What have I done?’ he whispered.

‘Exactly,’ said Elisabeth. ‘You both thought you could play me however the hell you wanted, didn’t you? With your little f*cking secrets, your plans for me. Always hiding something, weren’t you, Robert? Well, I got sick of it. I got sick of being the pawn in whatever game you and him’–she threw a look at Bernstein–’were playing.’

Robert came in. ‘Elisabeth, that’s not true.’

‘It is. You switched off from me like a light going out. At first I was confused, I was hurt, but then I realised what your problem was. Your problem, Robert, was that you couldn’t quite make me your wife. And it was obvious to me why. It still is.’

‘Elisabeth—’

‘So that’s where you came in.’ She looked at Bernstein. ‘Better get your trophy daughter down the aisle quick, make sure she gets locked into the business. Am I right? You’re a great team. The two of you ought to marry each other.’

Bernstein’s mouth was hanging open. ‘Hold up a second.’ He staggered to his feet, face sweating, lips cracked. A haunted look crouched in his eyes. ‘This can’t be happening—’

‘The only person I could talk to through all this is standing right here.’

The spotlight fell on Alberto. Sensing he was expected to speak, he began, ‘Well, I …’

‘So what did you expect, either of you?’ She shook her head. ‘You wanted me to marry a man who didn’t love me just so I could get swallowed up by some goddamn hotel empire? You’re forgetting something. I am not a Bernstein–I’m a Sabell.’

Bernstein reached out. ‘You’re neither,’ he choked.

‘Ha! That’ll be right. I’ve never felt I belonged and that’s probably just the way you wanted it. Far easier that way, isn’t it? It’d be funny if it weren’t so tragic.’

Bernstein’s eyes rolled across to Alberto, whose craggy face was aglow with unconcealed adoration. His breath became strangled.

‘Elisabeth, you can’t be serious about this.’

‘I’m more serious than I’ve ever been. You can’t control me any more. I’ve got my own life and I’m sick to death of you interfering.’

‘Please, both of you …’

She turned on Robert. ‘And you,’ she said, her voice shaking, ‘you want to know why I did this? I’ll tell you. The first day we met I fell in love with you. You went along with it because it was easy, and comfortable, and because we were worth more as two than we were by ourselves …’ She held up a hand. ‘And I know you loved me, in your way. But your way wasn’t enough, Robert. There was always something missing, wasn’t there?’ A pause. ‘If I’m honest with myself, I knew it from the start. I always loved you more than you loved me.’

Robert shook his head. ‘I never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t realise I’d made you feel this way. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise,’ she said. ‘Everyone expected us to stay together, to be in love, to get married. Forget my father, I’m talking the whole of the city. And I was always the other half–the smaller, slightly more pathetic half.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘I know it’s not. But that’s how it felt.’

‘I can’t say sorry for that.’

‘You don’t have to. But you can say sorry for the way you treated me over Lana Falcon.’

‘It was complicated.’

‘Maybe.’ She looked at him sadly. ‘But your silence pushed me away.’ Her voice shook. ‘Do you remember what we used to be like?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘You made me feel like I was chasing something I could never catch up with, Robert, however fast I ran. And then I’d be thinking, Why do I have to put up with this? I’m Elisabeth Sabell, I’m strong–how can I be made to feel this damn awful by the man I’m supposed to be in love with?’ She laughed drily. ‘And then I saw how you responded to Lana, a woman who, back then, I thought you’d never even met.’ She looked away. ‘I never inspired that kind of feeling in you, and it was then I knew I couldn’t compete.’

It was Alberto’s turn to speak. ‘What has Lana Falcon got to do with it?’

‘They already know each other,’ explained Elisabeth.

‘It’s a long story,’ said Robert flatly. ‘I’m not going into it.’

Elisabeth had more to say. ‘But there was one person who didn’t let me down. One person who cared, who believed in me.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Alberto Bellini.’

Bernstein stepped forward. ‘You two have no idea what you’ve done.’

Alberto gave a very Italian shrug. ‘What can I say?’ Sensing this wasn’t quite enough, he elaborated. ‘Love–it is never deliberate. It cannot be planned. It cannot be controlled. It runs its own course and all we can do, my friends, is follow.’

Elisabeth smiled at him.

Robert cut in. ‘Get a grip, Bellini. You’ve been sleeping with my fiancée. My fiancée. You work for me, or did you forget that? Never mind love–have you tried controlling yourself?’

Alberto raised his chin, his watery eyes shining. ‘I work for you no longer, St Louis.’

Robert laughed, shook his head. ‘Excellent. Now I don’t have to fire you.’

‘I am finished with this city,’ Alberto announced dramatically, gesturing to the stage as if his life had just been played out on it. ‘There is only one thing I want for the rest of my days, and that is this woman.’

‘Over my dead body, Bernstein gasped, his mouth set in a grim line.

Elisabeth took his hand. ‘I’m sorry you found out like this. I was going to tell you. I know that sounds doubtful, but it’s the truth. You see, I had to.’

Robert realised she was addressing him. It still shocked him to think of her, to see her, with this old man. Yes, he had cheated emotionally with Lana, and who knew, maybe that was worse. But even on the last day of her visit, when he had wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and love her again, he had reined himself in.

‘I had to tell you because …’ This time she looked at her father. ‘We’ve been threatened. Alberto has received—’

‘My darling, wait.’ Alberto wiped a hand wearily across his brow. ‘It is not necessary.’

She turned to him. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Robert demanded.

‘Elisabeth,’ said Alberto, eyes pleading, ‘there is something I must tell you.’

Bernstein looked sluggishly between them, bile in his throat. ‘Listen to me,’ he commanded.

Nobody listened.

Elisabeth withdrew her hand. Alberto had a horribly guilty look about him. ‘What is it?’

He smiled weakly. ‘I must be honest with you. You see, my love, I.I have told a terrible lie.’

She shook her head.

‘You must let me explain, darling …’

‘I am. Get on with it.’

Alberto braced himself for the confession. ‘The blackmail. It was a lie, every last bit of it. There was no blackmail. I invented it so that you would tell St Louis’–he nodded at Robert–’So you would tell him about our love for each other.’

Elisabeth was outraged. ‘You did what?’

‘I am ashamed.’ He looked at the floor. ‘Forgive me. Many nights I lie awake and I wonder what it is you see in Alberto Bellini–I am old; my body is failing. What can I give you that you don’t already have? The answer I cannot find. Elisabeth, you are beautiful; you are young and full of life. Me? I have none of this. And yet I cannot lose you. I will not let you go, I will not take that risk. I had to act. If you married St Louis, you would never have been mine.’

A silence. ‘So you lied to me? You frightened me? Alberto, I feared for my life!’

‘I did not intend for it to go this far,’ he said simply. ‘I am sorry.’

She blinked. ‘I can’t believe you would do this.’

Alberto nodded. ‘I was blinded by fear,’ he said. ‘Fear that I do not have time left to wait. And I was blinded by desire, bellissima; my desire for you.’ He looked at her. ‘Elisabeth, I want you. I want to love you the rest of my life, however long that may be.’

In a flash Bernstein was on Alberto, knocking the old man to the floor. Elisabeth’s hands flew to her face.

‘You dirty f*ckin’ goddamn motherf*cker, Bellini!’ He slammed the old man’s head and stomach. ‘You sick f*ckin’ prick, you dirty filthy f*ckin’—’ Another punch before Robert hauled him off.

‘Take it easy.’ Robert secured Bernstein’s arms behind his back, the older man’s chest rising and falling.

‘Let the hell go of me,’ he choked. ‘Right now. You haven’t got a f*ckin’ clue, St Louis.’

Elisabeth was on the floor, kissing Alberto’s crumpled face. It was with such tenderness that Robert felt sad at all of her that he had missed–or hadn’t wanted to find.

‘Freakin’ let go of me.’ Bernstein whipped himself loose.

Robert did as he was told. Bernstein straightened his jacket. ‘You make a mockery of me, Elisabeth. I tried to do the right thing, I tried to move you in the right direction, all for your mother, God rest her soul–and now look at you. You just threw it back in my face.’ He looked defeated, disgusted. ‘You’re gonna regret this every single day of your life.’

Elisabeth looked up at her father. ‘Then have nothing to do with me.’

Numb, he nodded. Blindly he stumbled towards the auditorium doors, where he turned round.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘I won’t. I can’t. Not now.’

Tears streaked her face. ‘Fine.’

Bernstein pushed through, head bowed, his back shaking. Elisabeth watched him go with defiance in her heart.

Beneath her Alberto groaned, blood pooling on his white collar. She knew she should be livid–what he’d done was nothing short of abominable–but somehow she couldn’t summon the strength. A part of her understood why he had lied. Had he not invented the blackmail, would she ever have found the courage to tell Robert? Or would she have seen the marriage through and entered the life her father expected of her?

It would take time to trust him again, but she could only believe his actions came from a good place. As she looked into his eyes she knew he loved her–in a way Robert never had. Too long she had looked into her fiancé’S and seen another woman reflected; a distraction; an absence; an emptiness she couldn’t fill, however hard she tried. With Alberto she knew that things would be different.

She and Robert helped Alberto into a sitting position, with his back against the row of seats. Robert crouched down and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it to the old man’s nose.

Elisabeth gave him a look he hadn’t seen before. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

He nodded, stemmed the bleeding then sat down on Alberto’s other side. The three of them were quiet a while.

‘I hope we can be friends,’ she said eventually.

The auditorium was quiet. ‘I do, too.’

‘In that case,’ she said gently, ‘can I suggest something, as your friend?’

He shook his head wearily, as if the day couldn’t relinquish much more. ‘Go ahead.’

She reached across and took Robert’s hand. ‘Go to Lana,’ she said. ‘Be with her. Go to Lana and work it out.’