The A-List Collection. Victoria Fox
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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.’
New York
Lester Fallon unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside. It was dark except for a naked bulb above the dirt-caked stove, casting a bald yellow light across the room.
Tonight had been his last at Club 44. Some of the guys had stayed to have a drink with him when his shift was done–he didn’t like any of them, they were weak and blind; they had no drive, no fire. Not like him. He was about to become a multi-millionaire, richer beyond his wildest dreams.
The time had come. Vegas was calling. Laura had been waiting long enough.
Lester opened the fridge and surveyed its contents. A chunk of greyish meat on a cracked plate; a bit of cheese hardened on one side; a sticky jar of jelly and three cans of beer. He reached in for one, popped it open and closed the door. On its front was a calendar with thick red crosses slashed through the days. Sixty to go until the movie premiere–that was all.
He was getting close, closer than he’d ever been. So close he could smell her fear.
In the bedroom he pulled out a canvas bag and began packing for the first leg of his journey. He wasn’t particular about it; there would be no need for order where he was going. Efficiency, that was all. Combat pants, a couple of sweaters, a pair of gloves.
He showered, dried with a cloth that stank of milk, then ran a fine-toothed comb through his thin, wet hair, beneath which it was possible to see the pale pink of his scalp. His decision to catch an overnight coach was a deliberate one. It was easier to move under cover of darkness. He’d learned that a long time ago.
Lester dressed in brown slacks and a corduroy jacket. He tied his shoelaces tightly. Sinking to his knees, he bent to retrieve a box from under the bed. Inside was a camel-coloured envelope containing a stack of fifties he had been saving. He tucked half the stash in the inside pocket of his jacket and the other half slotted down one side of his bag. Once he’d dealt with Lana and her murderer boyfriend he’d never have to worry about money again. He’d reveal their crime and their world would end … just like the voice had said.
He slid his hand into the box a final time, removed something cold and heavy, then secured the lid before replacing it, empty, under the bed.
The most important thing of all.
The gun.