She was silent. His rages could get out of control. He'd never hit her, but Brenda had warned her that it could happen one day.

'If I was drinking, which I'm fuckin' not, you would've driven me to it,' he said, giving her a hate-filled glare.

'I'm sorry,' she said quietly.

'Here's what you're gonna do,' he said, his voice rising again. 'You're gonna walk off the goddamn movie.'

'I can't do that.'

'Call L.A., tell 'em you're not coming back.'

'That's impossible,' she protested. 'I've already shot several days.'

'Do it, Shelby,' he said angrily. 'Or get the fuck outta my life.'

'You're being unreasonable.'

'I'm being unreasonable?' he yelled. 'Screw you.'

'Linc,' she said, close to tears, 'if I walk off the movie, it'll ruin my career.'

'Then don't walk,' he said, his eyes glittering feverishly. 'Tell 'em they have to fire Pete. And they'd better do it right now.'

'What?'

'That's the way it's gonna be. Either you walk, or he gets booted.' Another ominous beat. 'Am I making myself clear?'

Chapter Twenty-Eight.

Lola was well aware that every man in the Latin supper club was lusting after her as she sensuously danced with one of the professional dancers who were on hand to accommodate the patrons.

Tony was sitting back in a leopard-print booth with his cronies, swigging champagne, enjoying the show. She couldn't help noticing that several women were paying plenty of attention to him. It didn't bother her. He was hers, all hers.

She swivelled her hips to the salsa sound, feeling sexy, hot and totally satisfied. Her body writhed to the pulsating beat of the music. She was controlled, yet out of control all at the same time. I should've been a dancer, she thought. I've got it down.

Tony waved. He was laughing, having a great time as he watched her dance just for him.

Then into the club walked Tyrell White, an ex-world-champion heavyweight boxer.

Tyrell spotted her immediately - they'd met once briefly. Enough for him to come over and attempt to join her on the dance floor.

Shoving the professional dancer out of the way, he began grinding his crotch into hers.

Before she had time to react, Tony was on his feet, forcing his way through the other dancers until he reached her. 'Back off, jackass,' Tony yelled, his eyes dark and dangerous. 'This is my lady.'

'She ain't nobody's lady,' Tyrell sneered. 'She's a piece-a ass, an' I'm dancin'

with it.'

Tony hauled back and slugged Tyrell, who immediately retaliated with a right hook that sent Tony flying to the ground.

Lola started screaming at Tyrell, and within seconds a general fight had broken out.

Tony's bodyguards were quick to grab him, hustling him out of the club. Big Jay was right beside them. He lifted Lola as if she were a rag doll and spirited her away.

Once outside, they all piled into Tony's limo, while the flashbulbs popped. The car shot away from the kerb, tyres squealing.

Tony was angry and cursing, his lip gushing blood. 'I'm gonna kill that sonofabitch,' he shouted, as Lola attempted to tend to him. 'You hear me? I'm gonna kill that dumb mothafucker. Nobody messes with Tony Alvarez's woman.

Nobody!'

'Calm down,' Lola said soothingly. 'I'm sure he didn't mean it.'

'Didn't mean what? Tony screamed.

'Maybe he thought I was alone.'

'Jesus holy Christ. Whose side are you on?' He shoved her away, snatched a wad of Kleenex and pressed it to his split lip. 'That prick's gonna regret he was ever born. You fuckin' hear me?'

'Forget about it,' Lola said. 'It's over.'

'Yeah,' Tony growled, 'you'll see how over it is.'

Cat had a choice. She could go back to her apartment alone and work, she could hang out with Jonas, or she could join Nick and his friends at Ago.

She was still reeling from what Luanne had told her over the phone. It meant that even before she'd caught Jump in Australia, he'd been screwing around.

Maybe he'd been doing it throughout their entire marriage. What a depressing thought that was.

It was crazy the way you could live with someone and not really know them at all. She'd always thought Jump was a straight-up kind of guy, even though he was a rock 'n' roller. She hadn't imagined him poking every skanky groupie who passed his way like the rest of his band. How naive was she?'

By the time she called, 'Cut,' for the last time that day, it was late. When Jonas caught her on her way out and asked her if she was up to grabbing a bite, she said no. But on the drive home, after listening to several tracks of an Eminem CD, she soon began feeling energized.

There was no food in her apartment, and she had to eat, didn't she? Instead of driving home, she headed for Ago, deciding she'd have a quick snack.

When she arrived Nick wasn't there. The maitre d' escorted her to his regular corner table on the outdoor patio.

Some of the faces at the table were familiar, and there were a few new ones. A pretty, dark-haired girl wearing huge, owl-like glasses and what appeared to be painter's overalls, extended her hand. 'I'm Amy,' she said. 'And you are?'

'Cat Harrison.'

'Oh, yeah, you're the girl who's directing Nick's movie, right?'

Cat nodded.

'Nick was talking about you the other day,' Amy said. 'Mentioned you were hot, forgot to mention you were so young.'

'Said I was hot, did he?' Cat said, amused.

'Hey - we all know Nick. If it walks and breathes, he thinks it's hot.'

'What time does he usually get here?' Cat asked, keeping it casual. "Cause I gotta eat and run.'

'It depends.'

'What do you do?' Cat asked, wondering if Amy was one of his army of girlfriends.

'Comedian - stand-up,' Amy said. 'Y'know, I like to get up there in front of an attentive audience and piss men off.' She giggled. 'You should see their faces when I talk about the size of their dicks and all that shit.'

'Sounds like I should come see you,' said Cat.

'Feel free. I'm at the Improv next week. Nick's putting together a group - maybe you'll tag along.'

'Yeah,' Cat said, nodding. 'I might do that.'

By the time Nick arrived, she'd already eaten and was ready to leave. He was accompanied by a busty, bleached blonde in a tight pink mini-dress, who looked like she'd recently made a daring escape from the Playboy mansion.

'What the hell is that? Amy muttered.

'I see you've got a new one tonight,' Cat remarked, standing up.

'Makes a change,' Nick said, running his hands through his unkempt hair.

'Where're you off to?'

'I ate, had fun - good night.'

'Is that it?' he said, looking perplexed.

'That's it,' she said, checking out his date one more time.

'Meet Mindy,' he said, putting his arm round the girl in the pink leather dress and squeezing tight. 'Mindy's an old friend. Used to be a stripper at Scores in New York. That's where we met.'

'Cosy,' Cat said. 'Was she naked at the time?'

'Mindy's tryin' to make it in porno out here,' he said, ignoring her crack. 'I think she's got a good chance, don't you?'

'I'm sure she'll be very successful,' Cat said, wondering if he was serious.

'See you Monday,' she added, walking out.

Abandoning Mindy and her dreams of porno stardom, Nick followed Cat to the parking lot. 'What're your plans for the weekend?' he asked, scratching his stubbled chin.

'Sleep and work.'

'Wanna catch a movie?'

'Don't think so.'

'Wanna meet here tomorrow night?'

'No thanks.'

'How come no thanks?'

'It's not my scene.'

'What's not your scene?'

'Busty blonde bimbo strippers looking to be porn stars. I have nothing to say to them.'

'Don't tell me you're jealous?'

She laughed derisively as her car arrived. 'Get a life, Nick,' she said, handing the valet five dollars and jumping in.

'I'll call you,' he yelled, as she revved the engine and drove off.

She didn't head home. On a sudden impulse she drove straight to LAX and bought a ticket on the red-eye to New York. Who needed Luanne when she could handle Jump's threat herself? Plus she was desperate to see the videotape Luanne was holding.

She was so glad she'd found out about Jump before she'd got pregnant or something ridiculous like that.

Her husband was a serial cheater.

Not good news.

And definitely not for her.

Shelby couldn't sleep all night. Linc had given her an ultimatum and she was not good with ultimatums. One meaningless photo in a magazine, and he was acting as if she'd run off to Acapulco with Pete and indulged in a week-long affair.

She planned to call her therapist and ask her what she should do, but unfortunately Brenda had recently changed her home number, and she did not have the new one with her.

Linc's ultimatum was totally unreasonable, she was sure Brenda would agree.

Linc had not come to bed, he'd stayed in the living room watching TV all night, probably drinking himself into a stupor.

One thing was for sure, she had no intention of walking off her movie, and even less of requesting that Pete get fired.

Linc had put her in an impossible situation. She absolutely refused to comply with either of his ludicrous edicts.

The following morning when her alarm went off, she slipped out of bed, put on a tracksuit and took the elevator to the tenth floor where another suite had been booked for the stylist, hair and makeup people who were getting her ready for the Rapture press junket.

Kara, the studio publicist with the crinkly red hair and funky tinted glasses, was waiting to greet her. 'This won't be too bad,' Kara assured her, far too cheerful for seven a.m. 'You waltzed through the last one.'