'How about you, Shelby?' Russell asked. 'You're sure you won't stay for another one?'

'No thanks, Russ, one martini's given me enough strength to get this over with.'

Russell gave her the thumbs-up sign. 'Linc's a good guy. We all get caught in compromising positions. It's these damn locations. If you want your marriage to work, never leave an actor alone on location.'

'Yeah,' Beck agreed. 'Location equals temptation. The last actress I married ran off with the focus puller!'

'Don't listen to him,' Russell said. 'He knows nothing.'

Shelby left the bar, got into the elevator and travelled upstairs.

Once more she was exhausted from doing a day's worth of press, and a heated confrontation was not something she was looking forward to. Deep down she hoped that Linc wasn't there.

Why couldn't things be okay between them?

Why was he all over his co-star?

Why hadn't she told him about Pete as soon as they'd bumped into each other?

No excuse, really, except it had been so nice spending time with someone she didn't have to watch all the time, someone who wasn't constantly criticizing her. The few days Linc had spent at the Malibu retreat were useless, and they both knew it. There was nothing worse than an alcoholic who would not admit that he had a problem. Lately she'd been closing her eyes to a lot of things. Now she had to be strong.

Much as she loved Linc, it was time to consider her future.

Lola finally reached Tony on the phone. 'What did you do? she whispered, horrified. 'How could you?'

Tony sounded calm. 'What did I do about what?

'Tyrell White.'

'Didn't do nothin'. Why? What's goin' on?'

'Don't snow me, Tony, I'm no fool. It's all over the news.'

'What is?'

'Somebody beat the crap out of him, and I know who that somebody is - it's you.'

'You flatter me, babe. I'm sitting here in my hotel with a split lip. Haven't left the room.'

'You arranged to have it done, didn't you?' she persisted, certain she was right.

'Don't even know where the dude lives,' he said casually. 'The guy must have a lot of enemies.'

'Tony-'

'Yeah, I'm one of them, only that don't mean I arranged to have him beaten.'

'Are you telling me the truth?'

'Sure.' A pause. 'What're you doin'? Wanna come over an' join me in the Jacuzzi?'

'My sister flew in from L.A.'

'Your sister? I never met her. What's her name?'

'Selma. She's the nice one.'

'She look like you, babe? 'Cause if she does, maybe the three of us should get our freak on.'

'Don't be bad, Tony. Selma's a good girl.'

'Who likes good girls? I like 'em sexy an' hot an' naughty, like you, babe.'

'Selma's none of those things.'

'Damn!'

'I was thinking that we could take Selma to dinner. But only if you promise to behave yourself.'

'Does Selma dance?'

'Of course. She's my sister, isn't she? Fine dancing runs in the family.'

'I'm down with that.'

'You should see my mama, she used to dance professionally - she's the best.'

'Maybe I should see your mama. I heard you can tell what a girl's gonna look like by checkin' out her mama. I'd better check out yours, huh, babe?'

'And why would you want to do that?'

'Y'know, in case we decide to spend the rest of our lives together.'

'Is that a proposal, Tony?'

'You'd like that, wouldn't you?' he said, with a sly smile.

'You're such a bastard.'

'An' that's what you love about me.'

'Can we take Selma to dinner or not?'

'Yeah. Get your hot ass downstairs at nine thirty, the limo'll be waitin'.'

'Thanks, Tony. And you will be good, won't you?'

'Baby, I'll be as good as it gets.'

Lola went into the spare bedroom where Selma was happily unwrapping her packages. 'We're meeting Tony for dinner,' she announced.

'You've bought me far too much,' Selma said, holding up a leather Gucci purse.

'I'm giving half of these things to Mama and Isabelle.'

'No,' Lola said. 'Everything's for you. They didn't fly out to see me, you did.'

'Mama sent me,' Selma said. 'Everyone cares about you, Lucia.'

'Do me a favour tonight, do not call me Lucia. My name's been Lola for the last five years. The world knows me as Lola, so why do you all persist in still calling me Lucia?'

'Because it's your name.'

'It's not my name any more. I'm Lola, understand?'

Selma looked unconvinced.

'Now, what are you going to wear?' Lola said. 'You have to look gorgeous. After all, you are my sister.'

'He never told me he was married,' Miranda kept on repeating, looking quite crushed.

'Seems he didn't figure it was that important,' Cat said bitterly.

'Weren't you even a little bit curious when you noticed a closet full of women's clothes?' Luanne asked.

'He said they were his sister's,' Miranda explained. 'I believed him, I had no reason not to.'

'Sorry to disillusion you,' Cat said. 'He's a lying, cheating asshole.'

'I know that now,' Miranda muttered.

'I'm only here today 'cause he threatened to throw my stuff out on to the street. I guess it was that or give it all to you. I'm sure that was his plan.'

'Sorry about the jacket,' Miranda said, shrugging it off. 'We happen to be the same size.'

'You can keep it,' Cat said.

'Didn't you used to have blonde hair?' Luanne asked, staring at Miranda.

'Yes,' Miranda said. 'How did you know?'

'The magic of film,' Cat murmured.

'What?'

'Nothing,' Cat said. How could she be mad at the girl, when Miranda obviously had no idea Jump was married? It was Jump who was the serial cheater. What a jackass he'd turned out to be.

The packers were finished, and all of her personal things were out of the apartment. Time to move on.

'Give Jump a message from me,' she said to Miranda.

'After I've given him one of my own,' Miranda replied. 'I've never been so embarrassed.'

'C'mon,' Cat said, almost sympathetic. 'It's not your fault.'

'What's your message?'

'Tell him never to contact me again. If he's got anything to say, he can talk to my lawyer. That's it!'

'I'll be happy to tell him,' Miranda promised. 'Right after I say goodbye.'

Outside on the street, Cat gave Luanne a big hug, then hailed a cab to take her to the airport.

Mission accomplished.

She was now ready for a revenge fuck.

Once more, Linc was not in the suite. Shelby paced around, rehearsing what she would say. Either he listened to reason and stopped giving her ultimatums - or she was catching a flight back to L.A. She called the airport to check on times.

There was a ten o'clock she could be on if things didn't work out.

When Linc finally arrived, he was definitely drunk. He had that glittery mean look in his eyes, the look she'd grown to dread.

'You made a decision?' he demanded, marching into the suite. 'What's it gonna be? You walking off the movie? Or does my dear old pal Pete get the boot?'

'Neither,' she said, facing up to him.

'Quit with the I'm-not-going-to-do-what-my-husband-says crap,' he said roughly.

'You're not a fucking feminist, you're my fucking wife. Now what's the deal?'

'I told you, Linc, neither. You cannot continue treating me with such a lack of respect. You say things to me that nobody should say to anybody. You insult me and call me names. It's not right, and I don't intend to accept it any more.'

'You deserve it,' he said, his voice filled with animosity. 'Act like a moron, an' I'll treat you like one.'

'Linc,' she said, determined not to cry, 'this is serious. I am not fooling around.'

'Interesting choice of words,' he sneered. 'Fooling around.'

'I wasn't going to bring this up,' she said, 'but how do you explain the photos of you with Lola Sanchez?'

'For Crissakes,' he snarled. 'They're taken from the set.'

'No, they're not. You're kissing her outside a restaurant.'

'Are you tryin' to turn this around?' he screamed.

'No, Linc,' she said, standing up to him for once. 'I'm merely stating the facts.'