Jackie Collins - The Power Trip

Flynn knew many of her stories, how she’d been gang-raped on her way out of China, then rescued by a man who’d kept her locked up and beaten. After a devastating miscarriage, she’d made another daring escape, going months with hardly any food — begging for sustenance along the way — until eventually she’d reached Hong Kong where she’d been taken in by distant relatives.

The difficulties of trying to make a life for herself had not been easy. But Xuan was strong: she’d prevailed and finally forged a career for herself as a fearless journalist.

After mulling it over, Flynn sent her a text inviting her. Together, exploring the extraordinary lifestyles of the rich and overly privileged could be an extremely memorable experience, one from which they might both benefit.

Or not.

It didn’t matter. At least it would be a welcome change from the horrors of the world they’d both seen up close.

Flynn waited for Xuan to respond. He hoped it would be a resounding yes.

In a small hotel room in Saigon, Xuan and her sometime lover, Deshi, lay on the bed fully sated, a ceiling fan whirling noisily above them. The sex had been satisfying, although not mind-blowing by any means. However, Xuan found Deshi to be an intelligent man with — even more important — interesting tidbits of information about government activity that he let slip her way. Conveniently, Deshi happened to work for the government.

Sexually Xuan preferred women, although when the occasion called for it she was not averse to bedding down with a man. Information was information, and Xuan gathered it any way she could.

Her cell phone bleeped, indicating a text. She leaned across Deshi to reach it, her small breasts grazing his chest.

Deshi took this as an indication that maybe there was more sex in his future. To his disappointment it was not to be.

Xuan read Flynn’s message. She was pleased to hear from her friend. Of all the knowledgeable and attractive men she knew, Flynn was number one. A solid guy with admirable values and an adventurous spirit.

The first time they’d run into each other, she’d told him she was bi-sexual, leaning towards the female sex. She was determined there would be no sexual tension messing up a friendship that she’d sensed could be quite precious. She was right. Sex had never interfered with their close relationship.

Now Flynn was inviting her on a trip.

How nice.

With rich people. Insanely rich people, because she knew who Aleksandr Kasianenko was. Everyone knew who Aleksandr Kasianenko was — the Russian billionaire steel magnate with the famous super-model girlfriend, Bianca.

How intriguing.

To go or not to go? She would have to think about it.

‘Anything important?’ Deshi enquired.

‘Nothing that cannot wait until later,’ Xuan said.

In a few hours she would respond. It was not something she felt obliged to make an instant decision about.

Cliff Baxter happened to be a much-loved movie star. He had his faults, but overall he was the consummate professional, very aware of the people who worked on his movies, always making sure they were well taken care of. He considered his stand-in, Bonar, a loyal friend — they’d worked together for a solid twenty-five years, ever since Cliff’s first big break in the 1987 movie Fast Times on the Fast Track , a film about a marathon runner and his dysfunctional family.

Cliff had hit pay dirt on that one. At the time he was young, virile and hot — very hot. Plus he could really act. The director had liked him and pushed him to do some great work. To his delight and surprise he’d gotten his first Oscar nomination. He hadn’t won, but what else was new?

He’d been nominated three times since then, only won once. Better than not winning at all.

Bonar was his stand-in on Fast Times on the Fast Track , and they’d remained close ever since. They were the same age, both creeping close to fifty. Only Bonar had a wife and three kids, while all Cliff had was an amazing career.

He didn’t mind. He had no desire to be trapped in an institution called marriage, a soulless place from which there was no escape unless you were prepared to part with half of your hard-earned assets.

Cliff liked knowing that basically he was a free man who could go wherever he wanted, do anything he cared to do, and that there was no one around to stop him. Only his agent and his manager could tell him what to do, and usually he didn’t listen.

Cliff considered most of his male friends totally pussy-whipped, or if not whipped, then miserable divorced fathers paying alimony and only getting to see their kids every other weekend.

He was well aware that they all envied him. They should envy him. In their eyes, he was the one living the life.

Over the years he’d had a series of live-in girlfriends, and he’d learned exactly when it was time to move them out. There was always that moment in time when they started becoming overly clingy and needy — he knew the signs only too well. Suddenly they started talking marriage, and marriage was strictly not on his agenda. It never had been.

So far, Lori had lasted longer than the others. She was a fun girl and he was quite fond of her. Plus she gave the best head ever. He often thought that she must’ve studied at the famed ‘Academy of Deep Throat’ — if there was such a place. And if there wasn’t, there should be.

The truth was, he couldn’t get enough of Lori’s expert oral skills.

Usually he counted on professionals to do the things his girlfriends baulked at, but since Lori, the midnight call-girl visits were getting fewer and fewer, and Internet porn failed to grab him.

Lori, it seemed, was up for anything.

Lori had a thing about running, and not through the staid streets of Beverly Hills. No, she liked exploring the hills, finding a hiking trail, and hitting it hard.

There were no paparazzi where she went. No spying eyes with cameras affixed to them.

Sometimes she took the dogs, sometimes she didn’t.

Today she was on her own, high up in the mountains running like a crazy woman, ear-buds and iPod in place, Drake and Pitbull keeping her well entertained.

Then it happened. She went flying over a log and hit the ground with a sharp thud.

She sat there, stunned, feeling like a fool, finally realizing that fortunately there was no one around to witness her embarrassment.

After a few moments of pure dizziness she attempted to stand. Her ankle immediately gave way and she fell back down with a yelp of pain.

Now what was she supposed to do? Call her movie-star boyfriend to rush to her rescue? He wouldn’t come — he was currently on the set filming, which meant he’d send people. One of them might tip off the paps, then she’d be trapped not looking her best. Wouldn’t want that.

Her eyes filled with tears. Why was this happening to her?

She fished out her cell phone from her shorts pocket, and just as she was about to call for help, she saw it and froze. ‘It’ was a raggedy coyote emerging slyly from the bushes, standing stock-still and staring at her with haunted red eyes.

She met the animal’s malevolent stare right on and felt fear course through her body. Recently she’d read about a pack of coyotes savaging a couple of German Shepherds. If they couldn’t defend themselves, how could she?

Then a second coyote came loping out of the bushes, and she knew for sure that she was done for.

After rehearsing his upcoming scene, Cliff returned to his trailer where Enid had made herself quite comfortable stretched out on his couch, shoes off, TV on, soap opera in full swing.