Danielle Steel - Betrayal

“Of course not. I’ll tell Victor Carson to give him whatever he wants.” They both knew he was a solid investor, and they wanted his money for their next film.

“He’s using some very fancy independent accounting firm, run by a couple of ex-FBI guys. I hear they’re pretty thorough, but that way everyone will be happy. We’ll have his money, he’ll know we’re honest, and we can lock everything in.” He’d been talking to all the big agents in Hollywood about who he wanted to star in it, and once they had the money, they’d be ready to move ahead very quickly with contracts.

“I’ll have Brigitte call Victor tomorrow,” Tallie said as they turned the light off in the kitchen and went upstairs to the large master bedroom with the enormous movie screen in it. They loved lying in bed and watching movies. But not tonight. It was midnight by then, and she had to get up in four hours. She was used to living on very little sleep when she was working.

She had wanted to call Max that night, but it was too late in New York by the time she thought of it, and she’d have to call her in the morning. And then Hunt mentioned that her father had called right before she got home and he’d forgotten to tell her.

“He has to have some tests tomorrow,” Hunt told her, and she looked instantly concerned. “He said it’s nothing important, just routine stuff. He was wondering if you were working tomorrow, and I said you were.”

“I can have Brig take him, or his housekeeper Amelia,” she said thoughtfully. Her father always said that her assistant was a Hot Mama, which made her laugh. He thought Brigitte was gorgeous and the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.

“I told him I’d drive him,” Hunt said easily. “I can make the time. It’s not a big deal. He was fine with it, if that’s okay with you.”

“You’re a saint,” she said, putting her arms around him and he pulled her close.

“No, I just love you. Thanks for coming home tonight.”

“Thank you for cooking me dinner. Do you want to come to Palm Springs tomorrow night?” she asked him again, thinking that they’d have more time together without the long drive back to L.A., and the hotel they were staying at in Palm Springs was very nice, and had a terrific spa. She liked it when he came out there to spend the night with her. And sometimes it was easier for her than coming home if she had long shooting days.

“I’ve got some things I really need to do tomorrow, and a meeting tomorrow night. I think I’ll come out the day after. Why don’t you stay out there for the next couple of nights, so you don’t have the long drive after work, and I’ll spend the night with you the day after tomorrow?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, and then went off to take a shower, and a few minutes later she was in bed next to him, and cuddled up close to his body. She noticed that he was naked, and she peeled off the T-shirt she had worn as a nightgown, and they lay pressed against each other as he kissed her, and she was even happier that she’d come home.

“I miss you when you’re on location,” he whispered to her, and she kissed him again. Palm Springs was hardly a hardship location. There were films she had made where she’d spent six months in the jungle, three months living in a village in Africa, and they had been in places where civil war had broken out while they were there. Palm Springs was a piece of cake, and it was only two hours from home. They’d be coming back from location soon anyway, and it was a little bit like a vacation when he came out to spend the night with her.

“I miss you too,” she whispered as he started to make love to her, and after that she forgot everything but him.

Afterward, they lay in each other’s arms and talked for a few minutes, and she had to fight to stay awake. She was so peaceful and at ease, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She put an arm around him, and while he was still talking to her and stroking her hair, Tallie fell sound asleep.

BRIGITTE WAS IN the driveway at four-thirty the next morning, right on time, as always. No matter what she did the night before, she always came to work on schedule, whatever the hour. She texted Tallie that she was there, and she came out of the house barefoot and carrying her shoes, and closed the door silently behind her. Tallie ran to the Aston Martin and got in. She had showered again and her hair was wet, and if possible she looked an even bigger mess than she had the day before. She was wearing another pair of ratty, torn denim cut-off shorts with a T-shirt that was in shreds.

“Is that fashionable and you paid a fortune for it,” Brigitte asked, referring to the shirt with fascination, “or did you get it at Goodwill?” There were in fact items of clothing that looked like that, wrecked by trendy designers who tore the clothes before they sold them. Max was always buying things with that look at Max-field’s. Tallie usually created hers for free, but with her you never knew. She rarely spent much on clothes. And designer anything was of no interest to her.

“No,” Tallie said happily, “I got this shirt out of the garbage. Hunt threw it away, but I hated to waste it. It looks like it still has some life in it.” She seemed pleased.

“As what? A rag at a car wash? You’re the only woman I know who makes the kind of money you do and dresses out of the garbage.” Brigitte laughed as they drove down the street.

“If I told you it came from Maxfield’s, would it be chic?”

“Of course,” Brigitte said without hesitation.

“Okay, then pretend it did. I don’t have time to worry about the way I look.” She never did. It wasn’t on her priority list. She cared about what was in her head, not on her back, unlike most of the women she knew, and Brigitte certainly, who wore new designer clothes almost every day. Brigitte spent most of her salary on jewelry and clothes. She liked to say that she had an image to keep up, since she represented Tallie Jones. But Tallie didn’t give a damn about that herself.

She called Max in New York on the way to Palm Springs, and caught her just as she was leaving for school. Max said she had just been calling to check in the day before, to see how she was and how the movie was coming.

“It’s going great. We’re pretty much on schedule, and we should be back in L.A. in a few weeks. What’s happening with you? How’s school?” Tallie loved talking to her, and called her as often as she could.

“It’s okay. I met a new boy in the library last week. He seems pretty cool. He’s in pre-med.” Her romances always worried Tallie, realizing that she’d only been two years older when she fell for the cowboy from Montana and got pregnant with Max. But it didn’t seem like the kind of thing she would do. Max was less naïve than Tallie had been at the same age, and Tallie felt now that if her mother hadn’t died a few years before that, she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant and had a baby. She was pretty lost for a while, although her father had always been there for her. But she was sure her mother would have handled it differently, and probably wouldn’t have insisted she get married, which her father did. The whole event had been a big mistake, except that she had gotten a terrific daughter out of it, and was grateful for that. Max was a wonderful kid, and had never caused her mother a moment of grief. And her aspirations to be a lawyer like her grandfather sounded good to Tallie. She didn’t want her in the movie business. It was too hard a life, full of unstable people, and a crazy world. She had never encouraged her to hang out with movie stars’ children, although Max had met several at school. But she was a levelheaded girl, and some of the stars’ children were surprisingly nice kids too. Max had always avoided the bad ones, and had a knack for gathering wholesome young people around her.