Bad Girls (37 page)

Amber was sensible enough not to jump back, or make any sudden movements that might be suspicious. She turned her head to see who was breaking in on her session, but somehow she had a feeling that she knew already who it would be.

‘Lucy, I’m in
session
,’ Dr Raf said angrily, managing to summon up just the right degree of justified indignation. ‘This is absolutely not protocol. I can’t have you doing this repeatedly—’

‘
Look!
’

Amber had never seen Dr Lucy so agitated. A strand of her long straight dark hair had come loose from her ponytail and was hanging over her face, the clearest sign possible that Dr Lucy was not in complete control of herself. She positively raced towards Dr Raf, a newspaper flapping in her hand, her eyes dilated with agitation.

‘I’ve just seen this!’ she cried. ‘Did you have
any
idea of what was going on?’

Dr Raf, frowning deeply, took the paper from her, saying curtly: ‘Lucy, it really does have to be a cast-iron rule that a session can’t be interrupted, short of some kind of medical emergency— Oh my
God
!’

That’s weird.
Amber craned her head to look at the paper.
It looks like a UK tabloid – but it can’t be! What’s that doing in California?

And then, as she got a closer look and realized that it was the
Daily Mirror
, she gasped aloud in shock, just as Dr Raf had done.

‘MYSTERY BLONDE FLIPS FOR JOE!’ screamed the headline, but that wasn’t exactly the first thing Amber’s eye was drawn to. It was the blurry colour picture of two people in a position that looked at first glance like something halfway through a Cirque du Soleil act, and then, on second glance, had Amber gulping in embarrassment for both of them.

Because she’d recognized Joe Jeffreys. And though, for obvious reasons, his partner’s face was obscured, she could guess, from the context, exactly who it was.

‘That,’ Dr Lucy said in a high, squeaky voice, ‘is the
inside of the main storage closet
!’

‘Dear Christ,’ Dr Raf muttered, staring closely at the photo, turning it from side to side. ‘Are they – is she – is that even
possible
?’

‘They’re both in for
sex rehab
,’ Dr Lucy wailed. ‘This is a
disaster
!’

‘We need to get on top of this straight away,’ Dr Raf said.

‘It looks like that’s what
she
said,’ Amber commented before she could stop herself, and to her secret delight she saw Dr Raf’s beautifully curved mouth quirk into a reluctant smile.

‘Amber,’ he said formally, turning to her, ‘I’m so sorry about this. And, Lucy, I really don’t want sessions interrupted for any reason short of medical emergencies, OK?’

The dark, fulminating glare Dr Lucy shot at Amber on hearing this was more than enough evidence for Dr Raf to confirm that Amber was absolutely right in saying that Dr Lucy hated her.

‘But now we’ve been disturbed . . .’ Dr Raf said pleadingly to Amber, who nodded. ‘Hopefully we can reschedule later,’ he added. ‘I’m very aware there were – um –
issues
that came up today that we need to resolve as soon as possible.’

‘
Please
. . .’ Amber said, not caring that this conversation might ping Dr Lucy’s radar.

‘As soon as possible. I promise,’ Dr Raf said softly.

They exchanged a long, lingering look before Amber turned away.

Behind her, she heard Dr Raf ask: ‘Have you discussed this with the administrator yet, Lucy? I think we need to call an emergency meeting – involve the directors, as many as we can at this short notice.’

‘I’ve got Admin trying to sort that out right now,’ Dr Lucy said. ‘We’ve got a conference call in twenty minutes.’

‘And we need to find out how the hell Joe and Skye got into the storage cupboard in the first place – and who took the photos.’

‘Oh, I’ve got a
very
good guess about that,’ Dr Lucy said grimly as Amber closed the door behind her.

Amber stepped out onto the patio, breathing in the fresh sunny air, her arms wrapped around herself as she stood there, replaying in her head what had just happened between her and Dr Raf. His mouth on hers, his words to her, his hands touching her, not just sexually, but tenderly – pulling up her T-shirt, rearranging her hair —

‘Amber!’

Skye jumped up from the lawn, where she’d been lying in the sunshine. Joe was stretched out on his favourite lounger beside her.

‘Can we talk?’ Skye dashed over to Amber’s side. ‘I was waiting for you to come out of your session with Dr Raf – I really want to say sorry again for yesterday.’ She paused, looking puzzled. ‘Did you finish early?’

Amber nodded, snapping out of her trance. ‘And I wouldn’t worry too much about me,’ she said drily. ‘You’ve got much bigger problems about to come down on your head any minute . . .’

‘Skye? Joe?’ Daniyel called, appearing at the patio doors. ‘I need both of you to come to the main office,
now
!’

Skye’s big blue eyes widened into saucers. ‘What’s up?’ she asked swiftly.

But Amber didn’t answer her. She strolled over to the fountain and sat down there, away from the scene that was about to unfold, so that she could happily replay the entire time she had just spent with Dr Raf over and over again.

I don’t owe Skye anything, she told herself firmly. Nothing at all.

I
think mine’s
Pretty Woman
,’ Skye said thoughtfully, sucking on a blade of grass.

Joe rolled his eyes. ‘Really? That’s all you got?’

‘Uh, I like
Legally Blonde
too,’ Skye offered. ‘I’ve seen that tons of times.’

‘Skye. Baby. You really need to expand your horizons a bit,’ Joe said. ‘Tune into Turner Classic Movies or something every now and then. Watch something in black and white.’

Skye pouted; she could tell he was serious by the way he was frowning at her. She knew she was ignorant about a lot of things, but it wasn’t very nice of him to look down on her for that.

‘Well, what about your favourite movies?’ she asked. ‘I bet you’ve got some classy ones.’

Oh God, that sounds like I’m kissing his ass. I just can’t get things right with Joe today. He’s been weird with me ever since I went off on Amber. Shit, I fucked up there.

But at least her question had brought a grin to Joe’s face, a sparkle in his bright blue eyes.

‘
Red River
,’ he said immediately, lounging back in his chair. ‘Hell of a good movie.
The Searchers.
Boy, would I love to remake that one. Been tossing it around for years. And you know what? I’m gonna say
Die Hard
as well. I never get bored of
Die Hard
.’

‘Hey, you’re cheating,’ Skye said, taking a gamble. But Joe loved it when she teased him; it was talking to him like a normal person, not a movie star.

‘Say what?’ Joe stared at her. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘You’re just picking movies you want to star in,’ Skye said, flashing him her best naughty smile.

‘So?’ Joe winked at her. ‘Same thing you did, isn’t it?
Die Hard
. What a great script,’ he said dreamily. ‘You know something? Much as I hate to say it, I couldn’t have done that better than Bruce. No one could.’

Again, Skye knew better than to contradict him. ‘He was great,’ she agreed. ‘Really funny.’

She could tell Joe had registered that she’d turned down the opportunity to compliment him; his lips quirked in approval as he said: ‘Comedy – that’s what counts in the end.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘You don’t get awards for it, but you can work for ever, and the pay-cheque’s great. When you get too old for the action movies, that’s where you head. Meryl, Bob De Niro – even the serious guys are at it.’ He tapped a cigarette out of his packet. ‘Just save me from working with cute kids. I wrapped a dog movie this year, and that was more than enough.’

‘Is that the one from the book?’

Joe nodded. ‘
Him, Me and Mr Paws.
Shitty title, huh? But we were stuck with it. It’s gonna make a ton of money.’ He lit up his cigarette and blew out a big fat smoke ring. ‘I got points in it. Nice. There’s this remake of a Hong Kong action movie I wanna get greenlit – very dark. The dog movie’s gonna make that happen.’

Skye sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees. Her fair hair was loose down her back, her pale blue T-shirt matched her eyes, and she was wearing very little makeup, just some mascara and lip-gloss; she looked very fresh and pretty, and even though Joe was happily musing on his bright work prospects ahead, his eyes lingered on her appreciatively.

‘Joe,’ she said hesitantly. ‘I wanted to explain a bit about yesterday, with Amber.’

‘Catfight,’ Joe drawled, shrugging. ‘Believe me, it’s not the first one I’ve seen. They should’ve known not to put two girls as pretty as you two in the same room. Bound to lead to trouble.’

‘It wasn’t a catfight,’ Skye said honestly. ‘Amber didn’t do anything. It was all me. I shouldn’t have said something she told me in confidence.’

Joe’s fair eyebrows raised in acknowledgement. ‘No, you shouldn’t,’ he agreed. ‘You told her you were sorry, right?’

Skye nodded. ‘She’s still pissed, though.’

‘She’s got a right to be pissed,’ Joe said.

‘I know.’ Skye sighed. ‘I have to make it right with her. I just don’t want you thinking I’m a total bitch.’

‘Hey,’ Joe raised his hands. ‘Live and let live. It’s none of my business.’

Skye swallowed hard at this rebuff. But she had to persist.

‘I don’t want you to think badly of me,’ she insisted. ‘I like you. A lot.’

‘Well, I like you, baby,’ Joe said easily. ‘We have a lot of fun.’

‘No, I meant more than that,’ Skye said a little sadly, looking down at her bare smooth golden-tanned knees. She curled her toes into the grass. ‘More than “we have a lot of fun”.’

Joe paused, cigarette halfway to his lips. ‘Baby,’ he started slowly, ‘you know I’m in a bit of a situation here. I’ve got a fiancée waiting for me on the outside – Christ, it sounds like we’re in prison! – and the moment they bust me out of here, I’m supposed to get down on my knees in front of her so’s it looks like I’ve learned my lesson, staged so every single pap in Hollywood can get a nice clean shot of it, you know? And then I’ve got to keep my nose clean for a hell of a long time.’ He took a long pull at his Camel. ‘Which is OK. I get what they’re telling me. The playboy thing was getting old. It doesn’t play so well with the mini-van crowd.’

‘The mini-van crowd?’

‘Soccer moms,’ Joe explained. ‘Like I said, I can’t do action movies for ever. I got to think about how I’m positioning myself. So far, it’s been OK that I have a playboy rep, ’cause the guys who see my movies at the multiplex don’t mind about that one little bit. But the clock’s ticking. I’m not getting any younger. And I can’t keep my career at this level if the soccer moms think I’m—’

‘A big fat slut,’ Skye finished.

‘Yeah!’ Joe cracked a smile. ‘A big fat slut. Which doesn’t play so well in the Midwest. Look at Clooney. Even he gets a steady girlfriend at Oscar time.’

Skye was poised to respond – she had a suggestion on the tip of her tongue, one that she’d been dying to make for days now – but then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amber’s tall figure step out onto the patio, the sleek masses of chestnut hair glinting in the sunlight, and she knew she couldn’t continue this conversation with Amber floating ethereally across the grass, distracting Joe’s attention.

Besides, I need to really apologize to Amber. I fucked up. She wouldn’t say a word to me last night, but she’s usually in a good mood after she’s had a Dr Raf session. If she’s anything like the way she was yesterday, she’ll be high as a kite, and much more likely to forgive me.

‘Hold that thought, OK?’ she said to Joe, jumping up lithely. ‘Well, not exactly that thought, but one in the general area . . .’

But she’d barely said a word to Amber before Daniyel emerged behind her, looking angrier than Skye had ever seen her before. Even Joe realized, from the sharp way Daniyel called their names, that something was up; he pulled a comical face as he crossed the grass to where Daniyel, hands on hips, was waiting. She swivelled smartly as he approached, marching back inside the building, Skye and Joe following dutifully.

‘We are so busted,’ Joe muttered to Skye.

This can’t be happening! Skye thought frantically. Not when I’d actually got Joe into sort of having The Conversation with me!

The main office was full of people: Dr Lucy and Dr Raf; Daniyel; the director of Cascabel, and the supervising clinician, the famous Dr Solomon, who was too old and important to treat patients any more; he had established the treatment centre decades ago, before rehab became so fashionable, and was now reaping the immense profits. Plus three lawyers –
Three
! Skye thought.
That’s how important Joe is!
– brandishing copies of the behavioural contracts Skye and Joe had signed on entering Cascabel.

And, on the conference table, a copy of some British paper with a screaming headline and a photo that made Skye first blush from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, and then think: At least I look really good in it. I mean, if I’m gonna be naked and upside down for everyone to see, thank God my body looks really tight . . . you can totally tell I work out . . .

The entire group of clinic staff fell silent, ominously so, waiting for Joe and Skye’s reaction. Every eye was on her. She couldn’t get a word out. She just stared at that photo, her brain racing.

Who took that? Did Dave steal my bag and sell the film? Is that a still shot from it?

She looked over at Joe, desperately hoping he wouldn’t realize she’d been responsible for this mess-up. It was obvious that Skye was tongue-tied: all the accusing, furious glances turned to Joe, waiting for him to say something.

‘Huh,’ he said eventually, straightening up after a long, thorough examination of the photo. ‘You can put that kind of thing on the cover of a paper nowadays? Go figure.’

A short, incredulous silence greeted this. Joe looked round the room.

‘I mean, seriously, can you believe it?’ he asked amiably. ‘They didn’t even put one of those black lines over her ass! Which looks great, by the way,’ he said to Skye as a sidebar. ‘But, you know,
kids
can see this stuff!’ He sighed. ‘This society truly is going to hell in a handbasket.’