The Movie (45 page)

‘Oh, Isabelle, I can’t,’ Jordan replied hesitantly..‘The rest of it was just more of the same. You know-what Sam used to say in bed, how he used to tell her he would protect her, if anybody tried to hurt her they were dead in this town. And she discussed, uh, his, uh -technique-‘ “

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‘Indeed?’ Isabelle enquired. ‘And did she say she found my husband satisfactory?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ Jordan replied enthusiastically, caught off guard. ‘You should have heard her. She said he was the hottest thing on two legs-said she was coming so often she lost count, lave reviews. According to loxie, Sam’s the hottest fuck on the planet. He…’ Jordan’s voice trailed away at the sight of the frozen expression that had settled across Isabelle’s face. ‘He seemed to please her, anyway,’ she finished lamely, trying too late to recapture a little decorum.

There was a long pause.

‘How embarrassing for you, my dear,’ Isabelle said eventually. She fixed Jordan with a gimlet eye. ‘To have been forced to sit there and listen to such a pack of lies, and from somebody you once knew at school, too. But we must be haritable - perhaps the poor child is merely delusional, instead of being a pathological liar.’

Jordan Cabot Goldman smoothed down the immaculate rose silk of her Calvin Klein on-the-knees dress and swallowed hard. This would have to be handled delicately. At first she’d been ecstatic at the prospect of this lunch - not only would she get to do Isabelle a major favour, thus making them quits for her help with Tom, but she would have the delicious pleasure of watching the old bitch squirm as she recounted her disparagement. It wasn’t often, OK, it wasn’t ever, that you got to see Isabelle Kendrick humiliated, and Jordan had been phnning to enjoy every second of it, geng .to play the loyal, sympathetic friend whilst inside she was doubled over with glee, and they both knew it. But things hadn’t quite turned out that way. Jordan had barely gotten five minutes into her account of lunch with loxana when t,he expression on Isabelle’s face gave her pause. Her mentor had sat there quite still, green eyes boring into her, her whole body tense - but not with shock, rather tensed like a cobra,

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coiled and ready to strike. And Isabelle’s voice had confirmed Jordan’s wariness: those measured, dulcet tones were somehow infinitely more menacing than any raging, teary despair.

Jordan recognized the danger signals right away and changed her approach. Out went the gory details, in came as dry a reporting of the facts as she could manage. Isabelle was watching her like a hawk, and Jordan knew instinctively that if she showed the tiniest bit of satisfaction she was a dead woman. That would mean the end of her spell as Crown Princess. That would mean social war on a massive scale. And she.wasn’t ready to take Isabelle on - at least not yet, Jordan thought defiantly.

Anyway, now she had received the official line, loud ‘and clear. Poxana was lying. Isabelle was not prepared to admit, even for one second, even to her closest acolyte, that Sam had been unfaithful to her with somebody that mattered - a supermodel he was seeing regularly, as opposed to a faceless, and presumably discreet, whore. Like most of the Beverly Hills ladies who lunched, Isabelle paint no mind to those. On the contrary, Jordan thought, she probably relies on them to relieve her of certain ‘unpleasant’ duties’. But Roxana was different, loxana would mean a loss office. Andpossibly, ifJordan believed everything she’d been told - which she did, implicitly - a loss of everything else, too.Jordan tossed her blonde mane, slightly annoyed. This meant Isabelle was setting herself firmly above Jordan - after all, she had confessed her anxieties about Eleanor Marshal/to the older woman. She had been prepared to expose herself, to admit weakness. Apparently it was not going to go two ways. Isabelle

wished her to say that loxana was lying, when the whole manner of Jordan’s report up to now had strongly implied

that she believed her.

‘Or don’t you thilak so?’ Isabelle asked calmly.

Jordan looked deep into her eyes and saw the” steel

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behind them. It was a challenge. She had to make a decision - was she with La Kendrick, or against her? Evidently there was to be no middle ground.

‘Oh, no, absolutely,’ she said hastily. ‘I expect she’s horribly insecure. They say all these model types live in a fantasy world, don’t they?’

Was it good enough? Jordan wondered. She’d have made a terrible mistake if she’d crossed Isabelle on this subject. You only have to take one look at the old hag to see that she was in a dangerous mood. A very dangerous

mood.

‘I expect that’s quite right, dear,’ Isabelle said, smiling softly at her.

Jordan felt herself almost sag in her chair with relief. She hurried to pin her colours even more firmly to her mentor’s standard. ‘That was why I came to you, Isabelle. When people like tkoxana start convincing themselves of such ridiculous ideas, it’s time to put a stop to things.’ She took a decisive sip of her mineral water. ‘I mean, she may be delusional, but we simply can’t have her going around and spouting such rubbish, can we? We have to put a stop to it.’

Isabelle settled back into her chair, satisfied. ‘Indeed we do, dear. Indeed we do.’ She speared a few glistening green leaves with relish and popped them into her mouth, savouring the tiny croutons and Parmesan and warm hazelnut oil. Suddenly food tasted good again. Isabelle was limbering up for a fight, and she found the experience rather exciting.

It had been too easy for too 10ng, Isabelle mused. Crushing the social pretensions of various would-be rival Queen Bees. Throwing the most glamorous and spectacular parties, year after year. Honing her guest lists to absolute perfection, until she could achieve such an incredible human potpourri at each dinner party that nobody ever turned her down -just enough glamour, nobility and

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sheer beauty to amuse the power players, just enough power players to attract the more glittery crowd. For years the whole town had known that more deals were done over cognac at the Kendricks’ than breakfast at the Polo Lounge. Isabelle ruled LA’s social set with a rod of designer wrought iron. She had no rivals. Life had become, perhaps, just a little dull.

l:oxana Felix would change all that. She was a worthy rival. Isabelle acknowledged it without a qualm; she was utterly unafraid. Let the world’s most famous supermodel

compete with her for her husband.

Isabelle would crush her.

She. qcould crush her so completely that she never recovered. She would crudfy the pretty tittle snake. Skewer

‘ her through and through without mercy. Los Angeles would watch in amazement, because this was going to be a complete massacre. And then nobody would ever challenge her again.

‘But it’s so boring to discuss unpleasantness all day, don’t you think?’ she continued smoothly. ‘Tell me about your li, Jordan. Your little problem is taken care of, I gather?’

Jordan nodded smugly. ‘She’s on her way out.’

‘That was my impression.’ Isabelle sighed compassionately. ‘Poor Eleanor. To have worked so hard for so many years, and in the end, for what? But at least she’s now married.’ A pause. ‘To a banker,’ Isabelle concluded triumphantly. ,

Actually, it was rather annoying that Paul Halfin was so suitable. A successful investment banker was not the husband she would have picked for Eleanor - better a ‘resting’ actor, or a minor artist or something. But it would have to do. A major agent and a studio chairman far outranked any vanilla businessman.

‘And what about you and Tom? Everything rosy?’

‘Oh, of course,’ said Jordan, uncertainly.

Isabelle shook her head. Without me, this girl’s got no

future, she thought despairingly. She’s the worst poker player I ever saw.

‘What’s the matter now?’ she asked patiently.

Jordan shifted uncomfortably. ‘Nothing,’ she lied. ‘Tom just seems a little - uncommunicative. He’s very solicitous, but.., he doesn’t seem to, uh, that is, he’s kind of… we don’t make love as much as we used to,’ she finally blurted.

‘I see. And is that because of the baby, dear?’

‘He says so.’ She pouted. ‘But I’ve told him it’s safe.’ Isabelle waved a bejewelled hand dismissively. ‘Problems at work, dear. He’s a little stressed, I expect. Now, more importantly, how are you progressing with the baby?

Are you enceinte?’ she enquired delicately.

‘No. Not yet.’

Isabelle frowned. ‘You’re going to have to hurry up, dear.’

‘How can I?’ Jordan demanded, losing her cool. ‘He doesn’t hardly ever want it any more. I don’t know what the fuck’s the matter with him.’ She ignored Isabelle’s glacial expression at her language and ploughed on. ‘And anyway, Isabelle, I don’t know that I want one - once Eleanor’s gone, what do I need it for?’ Jordan’s voice rose to a petulant wail. ‘It’ll ruin my figure -Joanna Lowell did that and she had horrible stretch marks and she put on ten pounds and her breasts! Ugh!’ Jordan shuddered in horror. ‘They used to be so firm! And now Tom is saying he doesn’t want to get a nanny - it would cry all the time and- ‘

‘Jordan, Jordan, dear.’ Isabelle’s voice was firm. ‘It’s the

only way.’

‘But- ‘

‘But me no buts, dear. If you want to consolidate your position it is the only way. You can always insist on a nanny. I did. Now, the fact that you haven’t conceived is starting to get.problematic.’ She paused, thinking. ‘Once

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Eleanor has resigned, you must have a miscarriage. We can discuss that later.’ ‘But I’m not pregnant yet.’

Isabelle sighed, exasperated, l:keally, sometimes the girl’s stupidity was just too much. ‘I know that, Jordan. You pretended to be pregnant, and now you will pretend to

lose the baby.’

‘Oh.’

‘You’ll be devastated, of course. Tom will go out of his way to comfort you. At that stage you can conceive for real.’ She signalled imperiously to the waiter. ‘Check, please. My dear, you can call me later this week and we’ll have a. little chat about it.’

‘Thank you, Isabelle.’ Jordan bit back her protests -

, there would be another time. She smiled engagingly.

‘You’ve been most helpful.’

‘As have you, dear,’ said Isabelle, regarding her protg6e thoughtfully. ‘As have you.’

Eleanor replaced the receiver on its cradle and sat bolt ulright. Outside their long sash windows the sky was still pitch-dark; she glanced at the glowing red numbers on her bedside dock radio. Four-thirty a.m.

‘Who the hell was that?’ Paul grunted sleepily. ‘Do they know what time it is?’

‘It was an emergency,’ Eleanor told him. ‘Go back to sleep.’

‘Goddamn. Can’t your office call during business hours with their little crises?’ he demanded. ‘Your attitude to work is. ridiculous. You -‘

‘It was a real emergency.’ Eleanor cut him off she didn’t have time for Paul’s whining now. ‘And it’s only halt’an hour before our alarm is due anyway. Now go back to sleep. I have to deal with this.’

Ignoring her husband’s mumbling complaints, Eleanor stood up, reaching for her robe, and walked into the

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kitchen, flicking on the light switch. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dazzling glare, then turned on the coffee percolator. Though she would hardly need caffeine to wake her up. Despite the fear and anxiety, Eleanor Marshall had never felt more alert in her life. Adrenalin was racing through her veins. Forget business - this was a real crisis, a genuine catastrophe. Two young people might be dead, and/fnot, they were depending on Eleanor for their lives. And she was going to come through for them.

Four-thirty in LA. That was seven-thirty in New York. Eleanor picked up the kitchen extension and, from memory, tapped in her personal attorney’s home number. If everything that Fred had just told her was true, she was going to need his help. Because if she was going to fly out to the Seychelles to coordinate a rescue mission, she intended to have her job waiting for her when she came back.

Maybe it was Zach and Megan’s plight. Maybe it was the sudden knowledge of Tom’s baby. Or both together, she thought: the threat of death and the promise of life. But whatever the stimulus, as she sat in her kitchen holding the phone, Eleanor felt a veil tear from her eyes.

She saw Jake Keller’s betrayal clearly. Almost from the second Fred had mentioned Jake’s involvement with David Tauber, Eleanor understood exactly how she had been duped. She was angry with herself, but that wasn’t important. That was the past. It was her actions now which would matter.

Eleanor’s eyes focused on thewall .chart which Paul had insisted on tacking to the freezer door, her most fertile dates ringed in thick red marker, the days her period was due cancelled out with equally thick red lines. Well, I guess you won’t have to worry about that any more, she thought wryly. She was amazed to fred there was no longer any anger inside her at the sight of it, just a mild wonderment a.t herself for ever having let him bully her on this matter.

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She’d let them all bully her. Tom, who’d married a bimbo sex doll and then expected her either to sympathize or tread on eggshells around the subject, depending on how he felt about his wife that week. Paul, who demanded marriage and demanded children, not out of love, but out of some pathological desire to conform to society’s latest blueprint for the successful man. AndJake Keller, who had always hated her, and whose jealousy of her career had driven him to good old-fashioned sabotage, a sabotage which she had actually assisted. Yes, Eleanor realized, that’s exactly what she had done. Keller had found her in sickness and torment, and without a qualm he had taken advantage of her weakened state. And had laughed at her while he did it, like every other bully since time immemorial.

, Well, they were going to be in for a suprise. Every damn one of them. Because now, as she found herself confronting a crisis situation, now, as she sensed the miracle of her child inside her, Eleanor knew she was no longer afraid. And that was going to make her strong.