any kind of commitment. Obviously that hadn’t worked for Kate and Jimmy, or her and Nate—or her parents, for that matter. So what difference did it make?
Jimmy lay down in her lap, trailing one hand in the crystal water.
‘D’you know Cole Steel?’ she asked suddenly.
‘Vaguely,’ Jimmy said, taking back the smoke.
‘Brock’s got me auditioning for his new movie. Do me a favour and put in a word?’
His voice was tight. ‘Come on, Chloe, don’t go there.’
‘Where?’
‘You know where. This hasn’t got anything to do with either one of our careers.’
‘I know that,’ she said quickly. ‘I was only asking.’
‘Well, don’t. I’ve been put in that position too many times.’
‘You mean you’ve slept with too many actresses,’ she shot back.
Jimmy didn’t say anything.
‘Forget it,’ she muttered.
‘I will.’
Chloe looked down at her lover. He really was rather thin, she thought critically, taking in his stringy body and knobby knees.
Despite herself she thought fleetingly of Nate, so physically different from Jimmy. The Hides’ new album was getting excellent reviews on both sides of the Atlantic, but she couldn’t feel happy for him, not after how shittily he had treated her. After the break-up she had flown straight back to LA. Melissa Darling had called her from London the following week with news that Nate was badmouthing her to anyone who would listen, including the press. Fortunately there were enough other accounts of that night and it was perfectly obvious who had suffered in the relationship. Oddly it didn’t seem to be doing either of them any harm–Nate had reinforced his wannabe bad-boy image and she had come out as the wronged, innocent party.
‘It might not feel like it now,’ Melissa had said, ‘but in time you’ll see it’s better this way. You’re the girl who got caught in the wrong crowd. Better than the heartbreaker, Chloe.’
Jimmy extinguished the smoke in the pool with a fizz. ‘You’re a million miles away.’
‘Am I? Just thinking.’
The phone rang from inside the house.
‘Shit, better get that,’ said Jimmy, leaping up. Moments later he emerged, looking exhausted.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘That was Kate. She’s coming back from London.’
Chloe was alarmed. ‘What? When?’
‘Keep your knickers on.’ Jimmy yawned. ‘Couple of days.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah.’
A pause.
‘I was getting used to this,’ he said, his smile crooked.
Chloe glanced up at him. Some small, old part of her thought, You’re a real arsehole.
Jimmy seemed to think about sitting down, then padded to the opposite end of the pool and shook out his muscles. He looked troubled.
‘What’s this, an attack of conscience?’ she taunted. ‘This is real life, Jimmy–you make your choice and you pay the price.’
He disappeared into the pool with barely a splash and swam the length underwater. When he emerged at her end he grabbed hold of her knees. ‘That’s what you think I want you for?’ he mocked. ‘Real life? This is just fantasy, Chloe, and you’re part of it.’
‘We’re not getting married then?’ she flirted, kicking gently and sending a glittering splash into his face.
He looked at her funnily. His eyes were kind, she thought. Once upon a time he’d probably have been the perfect husband. If such a thing existed.
‘Not yet,’ he said, his gaze holding hers as he fed a hand between her legs. ‘Not yet.’
Sureiny Vélez was having a bad day. She’d woken up with a headache, had the children refuse to eat their breakfast then on the way to kindergarten the car had got a flat. Eventually she had dropped them off, but not before sitting on the sweltering verge with two screaming under-sixes for half an hour while Kate’s cover turned up. By the time she got back to the mansion, she was not a happy woman.
Even less so when she saw Jimmy cavorting outside by the pool with his new lady friend. Chloe French was very pretty, Sureiny conceded, dropping her bags in the kitchen, even if she thought it acceptable to run around outside without her top on. She’d seen more than enough of the girl in the past few days, in all senses of the word.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s broken his blonde rule, she thought, patting her own dark hair. When Sureiny had first been employed by Kate diLaurentis four years ago, as a fresh-faced twenty-one-year-old, she had been shocked when Jimmy had propositioned her in the kitchen one night. Right here, in fact, she thought now, running her fingers over the hob. She remembered how he had approached her from behind, slipping his long fingers round her waist until the milk she had been warming had burned and frothed over … The next morning, it was as if nothing had happened. He’d had his piece and that was enough. Sureiny was left in no doubt as to who was the boss.
She slammed the fridge door shut. Every time Kate was away he did the same thing, bringing girls back to the house, installing them for a few days and having his piece of fun. Maybe this one had more backbone than the rest of them, wouldn’t go running and crying when he called it off. Just like she had.
Sanamagan!
She’d had enough. Jimmy Hart was a user, a liar, the worst kind of cheat. The time had come for quiet little Su-Su to speak up. His wife deserved to know exactly what was going on.
Turning away from the window, she lifted the phone and dialled.
London
Nate Reid belted out the final line of The Hides’ number-one single and the Apollo ruptured in applause. Chris’s drum roll wheeled on and Nate grabbed the mike stand, raising it aloft his head like a weightlifter, mouth open, roaring back at his fans. They clamoured for an encore, stamping their feet and chanting his name.
‘Nate! Nate! Nate!’
It was electrifying. Banners rippled in the audience, girls telling him that they loved him and they wanted to marry him. They craved him. Every single person here did.
Chris counted in the first song
