'Some skank groupie who thought she was about't' get lucky.'

'Yeah?' Cat said, throwing on her T-shirt. 'And since she had the key to your room, she must've been pretty secure in that knowledge.'

'Hey, babe-'

'Hey, babe what?' she said furiously. 'We've been married two years and you're screwing around on me. This ain't gonna fly, not with me.'

'I told you - it's not what it looks like,' he said sulkily.

She shook her head in wonderment. 'I believed in you, Jump. Thought you were different. Guess I was wrong. There's an old expression my dad taught me - "A standing prick has no conscience." Hey, why don't you write a song about that?'

'Aw, Jeez, Cat, so what if I did screw her? It doesn't mean shit.'

'Are you telling me that you did?'

'I got birds throwing themselves at me all the time. I might've been out of it one night. It coulda happened. Who remembers?'

'Who fucking remembers?' she said, outraged.

'I got no clue why she came waltzing in here.'

'You know what?' Cat said, grabbing her bag. 'I'm out of here.'

'Don't do that,' he groaned.

'I can do what the fuck I want.'

'It was a one-off, she's a fan.'

'How do I know she wasn't lying next to you the other night when I called?'

'She wasn't.'

'Oh, really? I'm glad you're so sure.'

'Look,' he said. 'I'll be straight with you. She happens't' be an old girlfriend I was with way before I met you. We hooked up earlier tonight an' it kinda happened. I told her I was married an' slagged her off. That's why she came here.'

'Conveniently with a key.'

'She must've pinched it.'

'You know what, Jump?'

'What?'

'I can't stay with somebody I don't trust, and I don't trust you?

'Didn't we just fuck? Wasn't it mind-blowing?'

'Yeah,' she retorted, green eyes blazing with fury. 'It totally blows my mind imagining where your dick was before you stuck it into me.'

'You can't leave, not over this.'

'Watch me. It's over. Sayonara. Goodbye. S' long.'

'Some skank groupie breaks into my room an' you're telling me it's over?'

'That's exactly what I'm telling you. If you can't keep your dick in your pants, then unfortunately you can't keep me.'

And with those words she said goodbye to her marriage.

Serena Lake was not shy about revealing the sordid details of her affair to Lola and Isabelle. She told them all about her long-suffering husband, the English bad-boy movie star she'd had the best sex ever with, how devastated she was when he'd left her, and how she now wanted to get back together with her husband for the sake of their two small children.

Isabelle was in heaven. She was actually sitting in a luxurious spa with her sister, who didn't really matter, and the big movie star Serena Lake, listening to Serena Lake reveal her innermost thoughts. It was simply too incredible.

'I'm so adrift,' Serena said, flapping her hands in a helpless fashion. 'And the tabloids are no help. Every week they print another vile story about me.'

'Oh, I know, I know,' Isabelle agreed. 'It must be awful.'

'Why don't you sue?' Lola asked, knowing full well what a tricky and expensive road that was.

'My lawyer advised me not to.'

'The tabloids stink,' Isabelle said vehemently. 'My sister's right there alongside you. A different story every week.'

'Yes,' Serena said, turning to Lola. 'I've read about you and Tony Alvarez. He's an amazing director. I'd give anything to work with him one day.'

You should only know how amazing he is, Lola thought. The man is a human sex machine.

'What will you do next about gettin' back with your husband?' Isabelle asked, loath to get off the perils of Serena.

'Who knows?' Serena said, shrugging. 'Ward, my husband, has promised we can meet, talk things through. He has custody of the children right now, which is so unfair.'

'I understand about the kids,' Isabelle interjected. 'I have two boys, and if I couldn't be with them I'd be lost. Fortunately, my Armando never looks at other women, and I never look at other men, although I've had plenty of opportunities.

Oh, yes, plenty.'

'You see, I'm the one who left the family home,' Serena explained. 'That makes a big difference in the eyes of the law.'

'Surely your lawyer can do something about that?' Lola asked.

'Not with the way the tabloids are carrying on,' Serena said. 'Every week they give my husband all kinds of new ammunition against me.'

'You mean it's true what they say in the tabloids?' Isabelle said, completely enthralled.

'There's always a germ of truth,' Serena admitted. 'They sniff out a story, then they elaborate.'

'Last week they printed that I travel around with fifteen assistants and six bodyguards.' Lola sniffed. 'Do you see anybody here? I'm with my sister and one bodyguard who doubles as my driver. I'm a perfectly normal person when I'm not in front of a camera.'

'You're not normal,' Isabelle argued. 'Sometimes you have two bodyguards when you go out. Surely you remember the day we went shopping on Rodeo Drive and you got mobbed and we had to call the police?'

'There's nothing wrong with using bodyguards occasionally,' Lola said defensively. 'It's for my protection. There's too many obsessive fans out there.

I know you don't understand, Isabelle, but people do get obsessed with me. I receive thousands of fan letters a week.'

'I was stalked once,' Serena mused, joining in. 'The man was under the impression that we were married. He wrote me hundreds of threatening letters, sent disgusting e-mails, then killed himself.'

'That's terrible!' Isabelle exclaimed.

'Yes, especially as he did it outside my house,' Serena added.

'How did he do it?' Isabelle asked, bug-eyed with curiosity.

'He set himself on fire.'

'Oh, my Lord!' Isabelle shrieked.

'I know it's early,' Lola said, yawning, 'but I've got to get some sleep.'

'You go on up,' Isabelle said, still enthralled with all the stories. 'I'll stay here and keep Serena company.'

'That's okay,' Serena said. 'I should be getting to bed myself. It's been nice talking to you two. Isabelle, you're so kind. And, Lola, I'm glad we've had this chance to get together. Whenever we see each other it's always kiss-kiss and "What a great dress." There's never time for anything meaningful.'

Lola nodded. She hadn't expected to like Serena, and she did. It was a pleasant surprise.

Later, back in her sister's room, Isabelle couldn't stop talking. She was filled with excitement. 'Wait till the girls hear about this,' she announced.

'What girls?' Lola asked, dilligently removing her makeup.

'My girlfriends.'

'You shouldn't repeat anything you've heard here today,' Lola warned sternly.

'Serena was telling us things in confidence.'

'I won't repeat everything.'

'You shouldn't repeat anything?

'If I wanted to,' Isabelle said slyly, 'I could call up the tabloids and make myself five hundred dollars. They pay cash, you know.'

Interesting that Isabelle knew the going price. Lola couldn't help wondering if that was where some of the stories about her had come from.

Would her sister really do such a thing? Hmm... she wouldn't put it past her.

'Okay, now I've absolutely got to get some sleep,' she said, climbing into bed.

'Why don't you go to your room and watch TV?'

'I think I'll take a walk around,' Isabelle said, bursting with adrenaline. 'See who else I can find to talk to.'

'No, go to bed,' Lola ordered. 'You're here for a rest. You told me that you never get any sleep, what with the boys waking you every day at six. Take advantage of your time here.'

Reluctantly Isabelle left.

As soon as she was sure her sister had gone, Lola reached for the phone and called Tony again. He was on her mind big-time, and she couldn't wait to hear his voice. 'Hi,' she murmured.

'You again,' he said.

'Who is she, Tony?'

He gave a low chuckle. 'I wondered how long it would take you.'

'Tell me who she is, then you can tell me when you're getting rid of her.'

'She's a beautiful eighteen-year-old Puerto Rican singer, an' I love her.'

'Get real, Tony. We both know who you love,' Lola said scornfully. 'I'll be back soon. Prepare yourself.'

She put down the phone. He didn't fool her. Tony Alvarez. Lola Sanchez. They belonged together.

Linc rolled in around seven in the morning, bleary-eyed and dishevelled. By this time Shelby had got over her feelings of regret that she hadn't stayed with him.

She was now angry. 'Where were you?' she demanded, tight-lipped.

'I'm gonna get the third degree, am I?' he said, collapsing on the bed. 'I wanna sleep. Wake me when it's time to go to the airport.'

'I asked where you were, Linc.'

He closed his eyes, managing a fake snore.

She could smell the booze a mile away. It was wafting from his pores. Damn! She hoped that when he awoke he had the mother of all hangovers.

She went into the bathroom and slammed the door. Linc Blackwood was not going to ruin her triumph. She had a hit movie, amazing personal reviews, and now it was her time to shine.

Sydney airport was deserted. Cat hurried straight to the Qantas desk and booked a ticket on the next plane to L.A. Unfortunately it didn't depart for another five hours. Upset, angry and disillusioned, she checked into a nearby hotel.

The whole deal was such a fucking cliche. Surprise husband. Discover he's been playing on the side. Walk out.

Only it hadn't happened that way. He'd slept with her before she'd discovered his infidelity. What an asshole.'

She needed a shower. He could've caught something from that girl, and he hadn't even bothered taking a shower before sleeping with her. Yuck!

She felt let down, used and dirty. Bastard! Did he honestly think she would forgive him?

No fucking way.

It was all surreal. Two years of total togetherness and now this.