'Why are you stalking me?' Cat demanded, hands on hips, green eyes blazing.

'I'm not stalking you,' Jump responded, with a sulky scowl. 'You're my freakin'

wife?

'Oh, c'mon,' she said, glaring at him. 'You're supposed to be on tour in Australia and now you show up in L.A., creeping around the set while I'm trying to work.'

'You're finished for the day, aren't you?'

'A director never finishes,' she said grandly. 'I've got dailies to view, notes to go over, decisions to make for tomorrow.'

'Yeah, an' you gotta eat too. Let's go to your place, order Chinese an' talk.'

'You're not getting it, are you?' she said, staring at him in exasperation.

'There's nothing to talk about. I caught you screwing around on me. We're over!'

'You're such a wanker,' he said, fidgeting with one of his gold stud earrings.

'I dipped it in another bird. Big freakin' deal. I was stoned, didn't know what I was doing. You gonna keep punishin' me for that?'

'This is no punishment, Jump,' she said, wishing he'd get lost. 'I don't want to be with you any more. It's as simple as that.'

'After everything we've bin through together?'

'What exactly have we been through?'

'If it wasn't for me,' he said accusingly, 'you'd be sitting in some New York pisshole stoned outta your skull with a bunch of losers.'

'Oh,' she said, narrowing her eyes. 'Is that what you think I'd be doing?'

'You were a major druggie, Cat. The only reason you gave it up was 'cause I forced you to.'

'Are you saying that if you hadn't come along, I wouldn't've accomplished anything?'

'That's the road you were heading down, darlin'.'

'Go away,' she said wearily. 'Talk to my lawyer.'

'Quit with the lawyer crap,' he said, grabbing her roughly by the arm. 'You an'

me gotta work this out together.'

'Don't touch me,' she shouted, struggling to free herself.

They were standing outside her trailer. Most people had gone home, except for Nick Logan who came bopping along at just the wrong moment. 'Having trouble?'

Nick asked, sizing up Jump.

'No,' she said, glaring at Jump, who immediately let go of her.

'Yell if you need anythin',' Nick said, still eyeballing Jump. 'I'll be in my trailer for another hour, got lines to learn.'

'Who the fuck is that? Jump growled.

'None of your business,' Cat responded.

'Jesus, you've turned into a tough little cunt.'

'Oh very nice, the C word.'

'You're exactly like your freakin' mother.'

'You don't even know my mother,' she responded scornfully.

'Nor do you,' he shot back.

'Get lost, cheater.'

'I will. I'm at the Sunset Marquis. When you stop with the divorce rubbish, gimme a call.' He strode off.

'Don't wait by the phone,' she yelled after him.

A few minutes after Jump left, Nick emerged from his trailer. 'Want me to have him whacked?' he enquired, all business.

'Excuse me?' she said, raising an eyebrow.

'I can arrange it, you know,' he said matter-of-factly. 'I got connections.'

'Really?' she said, disbelievingly.

'Yeah. Last year I did a Mafia movie, an' the dudes with the broken noses promised me a favour, which I aim to collect.'

'You're nuts,' she said, shaking her head.

'That's what everyone says,' he said, squinting at her. 'Personally I think it works for me.'

'Don't be so sure.'

'You're liking what you see on the screen, aren't you?' he said, fishing in his pants pocket for a cigarette.

'You smoke too much,' she admonished.

'An' you don't get enough sex,' he retorted, lighting up.

'Good night,' she said, heading toward the parking lot.

'You seein' dailies?' he asked, loping along behind her.

'I am.'

'Mind if I tag along?'

She hesitated for a moment, then thought, Why not? After all, he'd rescued her from what could've been a nasty physical fight with Jump. 'I suppose so,' she said.

'I'll ride with you,' he said, dragging on his cigarette.

'I thought you had lines to learn.'

'They'll wait.'

'Oh, thanks,' she said tartly. 'Our movie should be your priority.'

'I'm a fast study,' he said, winking at her.

'That's encouraging.'

They reached her red Mustang.

'Nice wheels,' he said admiringly.

'Rented.'

'I should warn you, I'm a back-seat driver,' he responded. 'So maybe I should drive.'

'Too bad. I give direction, I'm not good at taking it.'

'Okay, Blondie,' he said, sliding into the passenger seat. 'Since this is our first date, I'll let you drive.'

'You'll let me?' she said, raising an eyebrow.

'Sure,' he said, exhaling smoke. 'Ain't life grand?'

Back at his hotel, Linc was acting like a caged animal, pacing up and down, muttering under his breath. He was furious, and his pride was hurt. Of all the people for Shelby to be photographed with, she'd had to pick on that asshole Pete. How would it look to his buddies? They all knew what a pussy hound Pete was, and Shelby was his wife, for Crissakes.

He swooped on the phone, called room service and ordered a couple of bottles of Scotch. Then, since Shelby was arriving tomorrow, he thought better of it, instructed them to hold the order and send up half a bottle instead, and plenty of ice.

When the booze arrived, he filled a glass and gulped it down without so much as blinking.

It was as if he had a hollow leg: first the coke had had no effect, now the same with the booze.

Maybe sex was what he needed. Maybe if he jammed it into Lola Sanchez he wouldn't feel so bad about Shelby and her indiscretion, which made him look like a fool. Fuck her! Miss Sweet and Innocent. His proper English lady wife. There she was on screen with her tits hanging out and now she was stepping out with an old boyfriend. Christ! What next?

It occurred to him that the anger he was feeling was not all about the dumb photo in People. His anger went deeper than that. Truth was, he was furious about Shelby taking it all off on screen. A fury he'd kept under wraps until now. He was married to her. She was not some little hooker happy to flash the world. Her behaviour on and off the screen was so fucking disrespectful.

He made a quick decision and called Lola at her hotel. 'I'll meet you at the restaurant,' he said.

'What a gentleman,' she admonished. 'I suppose my bodyguard will have to escort me.'

'Hey - I was gonna take a shower, that's all.' Her silence indicated she was pissed. 'Never mind,' he said. 'I'll come by your hotel.'

'What restaurant are we going to?'

'Mario's.'

'Where's that?'

'It's a small Italian place in the Village.'

'Somewhere we won't be seen?' she said lightly.

'Listen carefully,' he said, his voice rising, because he was in no mood to put up with her shit. 'I don't give a rat's ass if we're seen or not.'

'Hmm...' she said knowingly, 'I get it. Your wife's in People with a good-looking guy, so now you want to get back at her.'

'What's with the good-looking-guy crap?' he said, steaming. 'The asshole's a stuntman, he looks like shit.'

'Oh, sorry.'

'I don't wanna talk about it, okay?'

'That's fine,' she said, loving that he was so angry. 'We can talk about me instead.'

'I'm on my way.'

'What happened to your shower?'

'How about I take it with you later?'

She put down the phone. 'How about you've got no chance?' she murmured, laughing to herself.

Linc got his usual big welcome at Mario's, a small family restaurant he'd been going to for years. Mama Mario adored him, he was one of her favourite customers.

'Ah, Signor Linc - so handsome,' Mama Mario crooned. 'Why you no marry one-a my daughters? I tell you many times.' She took a look at Lola, then turned back to Linc with an accusing expression. 'Where's your bella wife?'

'This is Signorina Sanchez,' Linc said. 'We're making a movie together.'

Mama Mario made a disapproving sound in the back of her throat before reluctantly leading them to a corner table.

A waiter came rushing over with menus. 'Mi scusi,' Mama Mario said. 'I go see other customers. Buon appetite.'

'So,' Linc said, ordering a double Scotch on the rocks. 'What's the deal with you and Tony Alvarez?'

'I told you before,' Lola said, sticking to Evian. 'He's helping me get over Matt.'

'Yeah?' Linc said, giving her the macho sexy stare he'd perfected over the years. 'And how's he doing that?'