George nodded, his face serious. 'Now that your mother's not here,' he said, 'there's something I've been meaning to mention.'

'Yes, Dad?'

George cleared his throat. 'We're not fools, we know what's going on. And if things don't work out between you and Linc, divorce is not a disgrace. I know we've always set you an example that marriage is for ever, but if Linc is treating you badly, and I suspect that he is, you must put an end to it.'

She was startled that her father had addressed the subject. She was also relieved. 'Don't worry, Daddy,' she said, putting her hand over his. 'I won't let anyone mistreat me. I'm quite prepared to deal with the situation.'

'I'm sure Linc's a kind man when he wants to be,' George said. 'However, I couldn't help noticing the way he treated you in London on your last trip. It wasn't pleasant to watch.'

'I've told you about his childhood,' she said. 'Sometimes it's hard for him to deal with. The tragedy colours his behaviour. That's why I've always forgiven him.'

'I understand, dear. Only how long can you go on making excuses for someone?'

'You're right, Dad, I am planning on doing something about it.'

'Pete seems like a genuinely nice man,' George remarked.

'He is.'

'There's no reason why you shouldn't move on.'

'I'm so glad you understand.'

'We both do, dear. And remember, we're only a phone call away. We can come back any time you need us.'

'That means a lot,' she said gratefully.

She was tempted to tell him that he was going to be a grandfather, then she thought no. It wasn't fair to reveal the news to him without her mother there.

She'd tell them together when the time was right.

Pete returned a flushed Martha to the table.

'You're a great dancer, Mrs Cheney,' he said gallantly.

'Call me Martha.'

'Sure, Martha.' He put out his hand toward Shelby. 'Your turn.'

'I'm not in-'

'Get on the dance floor with me right now,' he said forcefully. 'I saw you dancing with one of the grips, and you are not shutting me out. Let's go.'

'Run along, dear,' her mother urged, beaming.

As luck would have it, the moment they hit the dance floor, Big Boy decided to slow things down, and put on Brian McKnight's very sexy 'Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda'.

Pete didn't hesitate: he pulled her in close.

She did not push him away. For a few minutes she forgot about everything and gave herself up to the feeling of being held close by someone she liked - a lot.

'Did Linc call you back?' he asked.

'No.'

'What did you want to talk to him about anyway?'

'If you must know, I was hoping to straighten a few things out.'

'Straighten out what, Shelby?' Pete asked, exasperated.

'I - I need to find out if we're really over, and if he's serious about wanting a divorce.'

'Shelby,' Pete said gently, still holding her close, 'that's not his decision, it's yours.'

'I know,' she said, 'but it's so difficult. Sometimes I feel absolutely lost. I wish I could just fly back to England with my parents.'

'You can if you want to. You're an independent woman. Of course,' he added, 'I'd miss you so much that I'd be forced to get on a plane and chase after you.'

She smiled up at him. 'Pete, you've been a true friend to me. I appreciate it so much.'

'That's what friends are for,' he said, pulling her even closer.

The warmth of his body made her feel safe and secure.

She wondered how he'd feel about raising another man's child.

Merrill Zandack made his usual flashy entrance. This time he was not accompanied by one steely-looking brunette but two. They hovered close behind him like a pair of matching sentinels.

Jonas cleared a table for him to sit at. After a few minutes, Cat moved over and joined him. 'Merrill,' she said enthusiastically, 'I'm glad you could make it.'

'As if I would miss your coming-out party,' he said, waving a large Cuban cigar in the air. 'You're my new star, Kitten. You're very, very good at what you do, and you're young, so I've got many years left before you turn into an arrogant pain in the ass.'

She wanted to say, 'Like you,' but managed to control herself. 'I'm glad you like what you've seen. I should have a rough cut for you in three or four weeks.'

'I'll come to the editing room,' he said. 'I've got an eye, you know.'

'No, Merrill,' she said quickly. 'You've got to leave me alone until I deliver my rough cut. Then, if you have any words of wisdom, I'll be happy to listen.'

He rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. 'The girl's already talking back to me.'

'Yup,' she said, grinning. 'Now I can.'

'When do I get your new script?' he demanded. 'I'm waiting.'

'Let me finish this project. After that we'll talk.'

'Oh, we'll talk, will we?' Merrill mocked. 'I suppose your plan is to surround me with lawyers and shit.'

'You didn't exactly treat me fairly last time.'

'You won, didn't you?'

'Not thanks to you. If Nick or Shelby hadn't wanted me, I would've been screwed.'

He roared with laughter. 'You're a good-looking girl,' he said. 'Ever thought of being on the other side of the camera?'

'No, Mr Zee,' she said firmly. 'I've never thought of that.'

And so the party continued, with everyone having a good time.

Chapter Thirty-Nine.

Allegra was stark raving crazy mad. Linc knew that much about her. She was always on, always yelling, always bitching about something or other. She had the longest legs he'd ever seen, a tight pussy, and a vile temper. They shared ferocious fights, which made a refreshing change from Shelby clamming up on him.

Allegra was twenty-five. He was just about to celebrate his forty-third birthday. Some celebration with no Shelby by his side. He missed her desperately. Often he harboured murderous thoughts about Pete. He wanted to hang the asshole by his balls from a very high pole. Stunt that!

He was not pleased with Lola, either. He was almost certain she'd orchestrated those photos outside the restaurant. Could it be that Freddy was right? She'd wanted to get back at him because he didn't remember fucking her. Bitch! He wouldn't fuck her with someone else's dick.

Allegra waltzed into the room wearing a skimpy Valentino slip-dress, four-inch stilettos - making her six feet four - and not much else except for a few strategically placed diamonds. One was a nipple piercing - painful, but extraordinarily sexy. 'Tonight,' she said, her long, jet-black hair almost covering her face as she laid out several lines of coke, 'we're takin' a walk on the wild side. You up for it, stud?' she challenged.

'I'm up for anything you got to offer,' he responded.

'Cool,' she said, greedily snorting as much coke as she could.

'Yeah,' he agreed, doing a few lines, then reaching for a nearby bottle of Scotch, knowing it was necessary to anaesthetize himself before the onslaught of whatever Allegra had in mind.

Raja Mestres was a formidable-looking woman in her early sixties, with strong features, deep scarlet lips, and a commanding attitude. Clad in a flowing embroidered orange cape over black matador pants and a black cashmere turtle-neck sweater, with numerous gold bracelets and bangles jangling on her wrists, she attracted the attention of everyone at the party in her honour.

The event was taking place in a magnificent thirties-style mansion - recently restored to its former glory by self-made billionaire Jorge Jobim. Everyone who was anyone in the Latin community was there, plus a scattering of Hollywood stars and art-collecting producers and directors.

Lola had not met Jorge before. She was delighted to make his acquaintance, because she'd heard that he sometimes invested in movies, and there were future projects she had in mind that would never be considered by any of the major studios.

'You are as lovely as the image I see on the screen,' Jorge said, when they were introduced. Rumour was that he was bisexual, with a rich-in-her-own-right older wife, and a series of beautiful young boys imported from South America - sent back later with thousands of dollars' worth of designer clothes.

'And might I say that you are just as charming,' Lola told him. 'I have heard many great things about you.'

'My dear,' Jorge said, kissing her hand in a courtly fashion. 'Come, I will introduce you to la bellezza.'

Lola did not consider Raja Mestres a beauty. She did consider her a great artist, and it was an honour to meet her. Unfortunately Raja spoke very little English, and since Lola's Spanish was limited, their conversation was short.

'Can we go now?' Matt whispered, trailing behind her.

She turned on him, 'No,' she said fiercely. 'We only just got here. This is an amazing house. Go take a look around.'

A waiter hovered, holding a tray of canapes.

'What's the score?' Matt asked the waiter.

'Lakers are winning. The game's on in the kitchen,' the waiter confided in a low voice.

'Where's the kitchen?' Matt asked.

'The other side of the swimming pool,' the waiter replied.

Matt turned to Lola. 'Do you mind if I-'

'Go ahead,' she said, glad to be rid of him. He vanished in the direction of the kitchen. It wasn't as if he was a great escort. He stood around like a dressed extra at a funeral and had absolutely nothing to say.

'So,' Nick said, giving Cat a long, intense look, 'you think we can blow this pop-stand?'

'Huh?'

'Leave. Split. Get outta here.'

'I have to stay until the end.'

'No way.' He groaned. 'You know what the crew's like when it comes to free booze, they'll be here all night.'

'I should hang around until at least one.'

'You brought your overnight, didn't you?' he asked hopefully, raising an eyebrow.

'One toothbrush.'

'No clothes?'

'Why? Are you planning a hiking trip?'

'Maybe.'

'You don't strike me as the hiking type, Nick.'

'Hey,' he said, fishing for a cigarette, 'you might think you know me - but here's a newsflash - no way.'

'I know that you love women.'

'Would you sooner I loved men?' he asked, squinting at her.

She laughed. 'I guess I'm gonna miss you,' she volunteered.

'I know I'll miss you,' he responded, lighting up his cigarette. 'I was thinking that after you finish editing, I'll still be on location in Miami - you could come visit.'