Tightrope (Burning Cove #3)(32)

Willa smiled and set the tray down on the tiled countertop. “What a coincidence. My mother made them, too. Would you like to sample one?”

Jasper grinned. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather do than eat one of those cookies.”





Chapter 19


Lorraine Pierce heard the limo pull into the driveway of her rented villa and smiled. Vincent was right on time. That was a good sign. It meant he understood that he needed her just as much as she needed him. Hollywood partnerships were always complicated. They rarely lasted for any length of time, especially when the partners were old lovers. Mutual attraction and friendship were not enough to cement a relationship, but two ambitious people who needed each other could make it work.

She and Vincent had known each other for a while now. They had met when she was younger and still quite beautiful. She had been an aspiring actress who had been cast in the role of the monster’s bride in one of the first Mad Doctor X films.

Her film career had sputtered and died before it had even had a chance to get going. But she had succeeded in seducing Vincent, and that had changed everything.

He had been a red-hot talent at the time, able and willing to provide her with access to the most exclusive Hollywood parties and clubs. When the stars drank, they started talking—usually about themselves. Inevitably, the secrets spilled forth in torrents.

It had taken her about five minutes to realize that there was another route to success in the glittering realm of Hollywood. As a high-flying gossip columnist she held the careers of some of the biggest names in town in the palm of her hand.

She and Vincent no longer shared a bed but she had learned early on what obsessed him, and that had given her more power over him than sex had ever provided. She could give him what he wanted most—headlines in the movie magazines and the national press.

Stars were so easy to manipulate.

When the knock sounded, she went down the hall to open the door. She had dismissed the housekeeper for the afternoon.

Vincent was on the front step, looking as polished and languidly aristocratic as always. His linen jacket was tailored in the fashionable drape cut style. The fullness across the chest, wide lapels, and narrow waist gave an impression of broad shoulders and a solidly muscled torso. She knew for a fact that in Vincent’s case the impression was a discreet mirage. Underneath the fine clothes was the rather scrawny frame of a star who had a long history of using cigarettes and martinis to keep his weight under control. There was a reason why male actors were rarely filmed shirtless. Very few had Johnny Weissmuller bodies.

Lorraine smiled. “Hello, Vincent. Do come in. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Vincent dipped his head and gave her an affectionate little peck on the cheek. “You are looking lovely as always, my dear.”

Lorraine peered around his shoulder and watched the tattooed, leather-clad chauffeur get behind the wheel of the limousine.

“I see you’ve still got your personal monster on the payroll,” she said.

“For now Jasper serves my purpose quite nicely,” Vincent said. “He never fails to draw attention wherever I go. Very few things impress the public as much as a star who requires a ferocious-looking bodyguard.”

Lorraine closed the door. “Would you care for a martini?”

“I would be everlastingly grateful for one. I need a bracing tonic of some sort. I have spent only a single afternoon at that silly excuse for an inn and already I am about to expire from boredom.”

“Don’t worry, things will pick up this evening. I’ve made arrangements with the ma?tre d’ at the Paradise. He has reserved a prime booth near the dance floor for us. I will arrive around ten and sit alone until you get there. Make sure your eye-catching monster of a chauffeur escorts you to my table. Trust me, by tomorrow morning the news that you are in town will be on the front page of the local paper. When word gets out that you’re staying at the mansion that was cursed by Madam Zolanda, the story will go national.”

Vincent looked pained. “The sacrifices I make for my career. I would so much rather be relaxing poolside at the Burning Cove Hotel.”

Lorraine went to the liquor cabinet and picked up the pitcher of martinis. “We both know why it would not have been a good idea for you to stay at the Burning Cove. There are too many big names registered there at the moment. Too much competition on that particular stage.”

Vincent shuddered. “You don’t need to spell it out for me. I understand. It’s just that the Hidden Beach Inn is so damn quiet. As far as I can tell, the highlight of the day is afternoon tea. I don’t even like tea.”

“You must be patient,” Lorraine said. “There is too much at stake. Neither of us can afford to make any mistakes.”

She poured the martinis and carried the two glasses across the room. Vincent took a healthy swallow of his drink and met her eyes.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “It will work. By the end of the week your name will be on the front page of every newspaper and Hollywood magazine in the country. The studio will beg you to take the lead in Nightmare Lane. Your old studio will be desperate to get you to sign for another Mad Doctor X film. No one will even remember Karloff and Lugosi.”

Vincent inclined his head. “If I land the lead in Nightmare Lane, I will forever be indebted to you, Lorraine.”