True Hollywood Lies (24 page)

Me
—
tell Tatiana?
No way! No way in Hell.

As the meeting broke up, I tried to wangle Louis away from the others so that we could discuss this further in private, but Randy got to him first. I couldn’t hear what Randy said, it was murmured so low. Louis’s reaction was to laugh uproariously and shake his head no.

Later, when we were back in the limo, I asked him what Randy had said.

“Believe it or not, love, he paid you a compliment.”

“You’re right. I find that hard to believe.” I faced him straight on. “So, what was it?”

“He said that those pictures are proof positive that you’re not a frigid bitch after all. Bollocks, Hannah, I just
knew
you’d take that the wrong way! And no, we are
not
turning the car around so you can beat him black and blue… Besides, he’d like that too much. Darling,
let’s go home!
You can run my bath for me, then join me in the tub. That will make you happy, right?”

* * *

The tub would have to wait, because Tatiana would not. We could hear the house phone ringing even as Malcolm went through the motions of pulling up to the front entrance, opening the back car door, and carrying our luggage into the house.

Once more I tried to convince Louis that the very least he could do was call her himself to let her know that things were over between them.

He gave a very good reason for disagreeing with me: “Love, trust me. I know Tatiana better than you do. If I get on the phone, she’ll beg me to see her. Even if I say no, she’ll be on our doorstep in no time, or worse yet, she’ll ask me to meet her at the Bel-Air. I—I couldn’t do that. It would bring back too many memories.”

Of what? I wanted to ask. Of them, together, making love?

Or of him with Samantha?

I had never asked him how he’d known about Samantha and Mick, but now was certainly not the time. I had to make a decision about Tatiana instead: if I kept insisting that Louis call her, I’d be risking the chance that his guilt would drive him back into her arms. However, if I called her myself, I’d have to face her very justified wrath. After all, I knew how much she loved Louis. And I also knew how much he had taken that love for granted.

I had played an integral role in allowing him to do so.

So that would be my penance, I reasoned:
I’d have to listen to her tell me what a conniving bitch I was.

Besides, I wouldn’t be able to stand it if Louis fell back under her spell—

—Or slipped out from under mine. I’d die if I lost him. I knew this.

So I dialed her number.

Louis watched silently as I asked her assistant to put her on the phone. He said nothing as she screamed Russian epithets at me, then cursed at me in French. He glanced in another direction as I held the phone away from my ear while, in the human language of pain, she howled and sobbed.

He bowed his head as I whispered, over and over, how sorry I was that all of this had happened, and that I hoped that one day she could forgive us.

Hanging up the phone, I collapsed in his arms. He carried me to his bed, undressed me, and made love to me.

Afterward, while I was curled in the fetal position, he ran the bath water. Then, scooping me up again, he gently placed me in the tub so that he could sponge the hot, soapy suds over me.

Finally, he wrapped me in a towel and carried me back to his bed.

I still felt dirty.

When I woke up an hour later, he’d already gone to the Fox lot to begin the postproduction sound dubbing on
Killer Instincts
, but there was a note on the bedside table that read
You prove your love for me in every way. I thank God I have you at my side
.

It also asked that I move my things into the house—and
not
into the cabana.

* * *

Most of my clothes fit into a big old steamer trunk I’d salvaged from Leo’s estate. It was too unfashionable for Sybilla to have coveted. Luckily for me she hadn’t thrown it away prior to the settlement. Leo had used it on all of his many safaris, and it had also made it around the world with him on his many on-location projects.

It had brought him home safe and sound. I was hoping it would work the same magic for me as I made my way to my new home.

I was dragging it from the bedroom and into the living room when I bumped into something that should not have been in my way:

Mick.

I hadn’t heard him come in. But I could see from his stance that he wasn’t leaving—or, for that matter, going to let me leave until he got some answers.

To get the ball rolling, he tossed the
People
magazine at my feet.

“Is it true?” The pain in his voice rivaled what I had just heard from Tatiana. But I wasn’t going to lie to him.

“Yes.” Still, I held my head up high. “I’m sorry. About us.”

“Yeah, uh, about that
: Could you at least tell me what the hell happened?”

“What happened? You want to know what
happened?
” The nerve of him!

Before now, I hadn’t been able to confront him about Samantha. Well, now I could, in a way that would hurt him as he’d hurt me.

“Louis and I fell in love.”

“Louis, in love? What, are you kidding me?” He looked at me as if I’d gone crazy. “And I don’t believe you love him, either, just like that!” Angrily he leaned into me. “Or were you stringing me along all this time, to make him jealous?”

“Stringing
you
along! Who—who are you to accuse
me
of stringing you along?” I started dragging the trunk again. “Get out of my way. I’ve got to get this over to Louis’s.”

“What’s the rush? Are you on babysitting duty 24/7 now?” He jerked my hand away from the trunk. “Or are you afraid he may find someone else to keep him company if you stay away too long?”

“How dare you! Louis has changed, Mick. We both have. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Yeah, I’ll just bet. He’s just a regular guy, right? Well, have you noticed that great guy of yours isn’t even here to give you a hand?”

“He had to get back to the studio. Or he would be here.”

As soon as I said that, I regretted it. Louis, help me move? More than likely he would have just insisted that I call a moving service.

Or that I just buy whatever I needed instead, and have the bills sent to Genevieve.

Mick laughed long and hard. “Right, that’s a joke! Why, I’ll bet he’s never even asked to see your place.”

“What difference does that make? Why should he want to come here?”

“Because if he had, it would mean that he wants to know all about you, instead of what you can
do
for him.” Mick grabbed my hand to force me to face him. “It would mean that he loves you for the
right
reasons, Hannah, not his usual selfish ones.”

I wrenched my hand away. “Who are you to say what the right reasons are for him to fall in love? Or for me, for that matter?”

He flinched. “I thought I knew what reasons were right, once.”

“I did, too.” I sat down hard on the trunk. “Look, Mick, I know for a fact that I wasn’t what you really wanted.”

“What makes you say that? Because he told you so, and you want to believe him?”

“Yes. No! I mean—I mean if there ever was a time you felt you loved me, then maybe it was for the
wrong
reason.”

“And what reason would that be?”

“Maybe you were attracted to me only because of what I meant to
him
.”

He looked at me as if he could not believe his own ears. Then he laughed incredulously, mirthlessly. “Hannah, you are so wrong. In the first place, you don’t mean anything to him!”

“No, Mick you’re the one who’s wrong, about Louis. You always were! He does know me. And I know
him,
now too
.
In fact, I know everything about him, the good and
the bad . . . which is more than I can say about you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that—that you’ve never really told me the truth!”

He seemed confused. “The truth? About what?”

“About Samantha.” There. I’d said it.

“Samantha?” He was confused. “You
know
about Samantha?”

“Of course I do! What do you take me for, an idiot?”

“I don’t know, that depends. Just what do you think you know?”

“Well, I know you had a tryst with her, at the Hotel Bel-Air.”

“Me? A—what?”

“
You made love to her!
There, in the Courtyard Suite. I saw the two of you--”

“You saw
us
—
making love
?”

Now
I
was confused. “No—well, not exactly! I mean, you were—you were holding her. And I—I know she was naked at the time. That’s true, right?”

He looked angry. But still, he didn’t answer. Instead he asked, “Tell me, Hannah, how did you know that I was there with Samantha in the first place?”

I hesitated, but of course he knew.

Louis.

“You go ahead and believe what you want to believe—which, I assume, is anything he wants to tell you.” He started out the door, but turned back around. “Oh, by the way, did he even mention that he was there, too? I’m guessing no. Well, he was, Hannah! He was there because… because… ”

He stopped to find the right words. Seeing the pained expression on my face, though, he quit trying. Then, very quietly, he said instead, “Just take my word for it, he was there, too.
With her.
But then he left her, without even having the courtesy to tell her he was going. That was
my
job.”

He pulled me into his arms. Searching my eyes with his, he added, “That’s how he dumped her, Hannah! Do you see a pattern here?”

I did.

But I didn’t want to admit it, because I didn’t want to be wrong about Louis.

Not now. Not any more. Not after what Louis and I had been through these past four weeks…

Which was why Mick
couldn’t
be right.

By my silence, he knew what I chose to believe. It’s our loss, the look in his eyes seemed to say. Then he was gone. I heard his motorcycle growl down the street.

I stood there for a moment, thinking about Louis and Samantha.

So, Louis had lied to me about her.

And he doesn’t like to break up in person.

Did I see a pattern there?

Yes, I did. And yet I didn’t want to believe it. There had to be a better explanation.

I’d have to ask Louis what that was.

I loaded up a few more items then headed back over to Louis’s place, something the Beetle could now do on autopilot.

By the time I got there, both the red and the gray cell phones were ringing. On the red line was Genevieve, screaming something about Louis’s broken nose, and that I’d better get over to Cedars-Sinai as fast as I could.

“What? What are you saying?”

“Just do it! Now!” she screeched, then hung up.

On the other cell was
In Touch
magazine: Did I care to comment on the information they had that Mick Bradshaw had punched out Louis Trollope on the set of his movie, now filming at Fox Studios?

Was it true that I had been the subject of their altercation?

Was there any word as to how long Mick would be suspended from the Fox lot?

Would the break in Louis’s nose mean that plastic surgery would be involved?

I gave no comment, got back in the Beetle, and began the trek back down the hill.

Chapter 13: Zenith

The point on the celestial sphere directly above an observer, or the highest point in the sky reached by a celestial body.

From what the doctors could tell, Louis was lucky: His nose had not been broken. Still, only after the swelling went down in a couple of days they could do an X-ray to confirm this. In the meantime he’d need ice packs to reduce the puffiness and plenty of Vicodin for the pain.

And a whole hell of a lot of reassurance for his bruised ego.

Being in no mood to counter the stares he would get if he decided to go out in public with a swollen nose, Louis spent the next four days at home, poolside. Because he wasn’t supposed to drink while taking Vicodin, he chose to forgo any painkillers and to live with the soreness. He did, however, use plenty of ice.

In his perpetually filled glass of Dewars.

Naturally, nursing his pain in such a manner put him in a lousy disposition, which he took out on anyone who dared to tread onto his path within the now heavily guarded estate: Lourdes, who burst into tears when he yelled profanities at her for moving his empty drink glass; the Guatemalan gardeners, who cursed the
puta
who had put him in such a foul mood, then flipped coins to determine who would dare trim the bougainvillea bush adjacent to the pool, only to incur his wrath for having gotten too close to him; Randy, who stopped by daily with the latest box office information on
Dead End
, and had to put up with Louis’s threats to move to another agent “who can appreciate me”; and, of course, me, who had been delegated the job of keeping his spirits up at all costs—including my sanity.

“Bloody git! He coldcocked me when I wasn’t looking!” With the ice pack and bandage on his nose, Louis’s voice now had a nasal cadence to it. “Listen to me! I sound like a bloody pouf or something! So much for the dubbing. Bollocks! Well, Ben can’t blame me for this! Fox’s security people never should have let that bastard through. In fact, if my face is ruined, I’m bloody suing the whole lot of them, starting with your boyfriend!”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Louis,” I said calmly, although I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. “You are, remember?”

That brought him back to earth for a moment. He turned away from me. “Sorry, love. I’m not blaming you—”

Oh, aren’t you?

“—it’s just that I can’t stand the thought of that wanker ever having touched you.”

“We can’t change the past, Louis. Neither of us can, right?” I said pointedly. I had yet to ask him about Samantha. But that would have to wait now.