Victoria Fox - The A-List Collection - Hollywood Sinners / Wicked Ambition / Temptation Island

It was Rita Clay, her agent. Rita was legendary in Hollywood, a tall, strikingly attractive black woman in her late thirties and one of LA’s top ball-breakers.

‘Hey, movie star, how was the shoot?’

Lana ran a hand through her hair. It was good to hear a friendly voice that told it like it was. On a sea of bullshit, Rita was one who managed to stay afloat. ‘Good. What’s up?’

‘Come to lunch.’

‘I’ll have to check my schedule—’

‘It’s done. Friday, twelve-thirty, Campanile.’

Lana laughed. ‘Fine.’ Rita talked as fast as she worked.

It had been the same when they’d first met. Lana had been seventeen when she’d walked into Rita Clay’s downtown office, had possessed the poise and determination of someone unafraid to lose. If the place she was running from couldn’t break her, neither could this big, bad industry. She didn’t talk about the past and Rita didn’t ask–it didn’t matter where she’d come from; it mattered where she was going.

‘You’ve got talent and you’re beautiful,’ Rita had said after their meeting, grinding out a cigarette and immediately lighting another. ‘Believe me, it’s rare. We’re going straight to the top, sweetheart.’ Her agent had gone on to secure a string of small but carefully selected TV deals, and a little over a year later Lana had landed her first break: a starring role in one of America’s most beloved sitcoms. Since then she’d gained precious credibility in a couple of cleverly positioned independent films, and in the months that followed LA’s casting agents were over her like a rash.

‘And don’t forget Kate diLaurentis’s dinner party next week,’ said Rita, dragging her back to the present. ‘I know it’s not easy with the Cole situation.’

‘Hmm.’ Lana felt a crunch of dread. Kate diLaurentis was a ruthless actress in her forties with balls of iron and a face full of Botox. She was also Cole Steel’s ex-wife.

‘My advice? Conserve your energies,’ Rita said matter-of-factly. ‘She’s invited press so you and Cole are gonna have to look the part.’

Lana closed her eyes, giving in to the alternate notes of exhaustion and fear that his name evoked.

‘You still there?’

‘I’m here.’ She checked the time and started to get her bag together. Cole’s driver would be turning up in minutes and she couldn’t be late for the car–anything extraordinary would arouse her husband’s attention.

‘I know it’s difficult,’ said Rita, blowing out smoke. ‘We never thought it would be easy. But you’re doing it, girl, and that’s what matters.’

The women said their goodbyes and Lana hung up. She’d do anything to be able to confide in Rita about the affair with Parker Troy, but she knew she couldn’t–there was too much at stake. No, if anyone knew the importance of keeping a secret, it was her.

When her pager beeped Lana scooped her bag on to her shoulder, pulled on a baseball cap and headed out of the trailer. Keeping her head down and ignoring one especially persistent paparazzo who had been trailing her for days, she made her way through to the car. Cole’s driver was waiting, a big Hispanic guy with arms folded across his broad chest.

Nodding an acknowledgement, she slipped into the Mercedes’ black leather interior.

When the door closed and darkness enveloped her, she knew she was going home.

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