Good Sister, The by Diana Diamond Read Free Book Online Page A

dozen arrests for topping a hundred miles an hour on Los Angeles streets in his Porsche Turbo. He had been indicted but never convicted of statutory rape for an affair with a high school cheerleader who honestly believed that she would star in his next film. On several occasions his indifference to shooting schedules and adventurous absences had put his studio on the brink of financial ruin. Which of his misdemeanors and felonies were true character flaws and which had been dreamed up by his press agents was a subject of industry debate. But there was no debate that life around Padraig O’Connell was dramatically exciting.
    He had thanked Jennifer for the information and taken a packet of literature but lingered for a few words of small talk. He had complimented her dress, and then her appearance. “Why aren’t you in movies instead of sending them into space?” he had asked with a roguish twinkle.
    “None of your blarney,” Jennifer had countered with her best imitation of his own accent. Then she had asked, “And why would you ever get out of movies just to make them?”
    “It’s a long and tedious tale.” O’Connell laughed. “It would take all night to tell.” And then, innocently, “Are you available?”
    “Booked solid,” she had answered, and then mentioned that she would be hosting the company’s floating cocktail party.
    “Real liquor?”
    “All kinds. Tell me what you like and I’ll make sure we stock it.”
    He had promised to come, a commitment that she didn’t take very seriously. And even if he did, it would be Catherine who got to hear his nightlong tale.

    She was surprised to find him waiting in the ballroom when she started the new day in her hostess role. “My God, who does your tailoring?” he said as an opener. “That suit makes you look like a member of Parliament.”
    Jennifer did a double take on the pinstriped outfit that Catherine had described as the very soul of chic. “It’s suppose to project my responsibility,” she told him through a smile.
    “The dress you wore yesterday projected your ass,” he answered, “which, by the way, is a much more valuable asset.” Despite his suggestive tone, Padraig O’Connell quickly got down to business. He had been through the literature and had several more questions about cost and reliability. “I’m planning a completely new production company, and if I’m going to do it, I’m going to do it right. I’ll put everything on your satellites if they’ll do the job. I’ve seen the future, and I want to make damn sure that it’s me.”
    They took drinks from one of the wandering space girls and found a table under the red sphere of Mars. Jennifer was amazed at how much this casual playboy knew about the economics of his industry and about the workings of her service. His questions were the most challenging she had heard from anyone at the festival.
    He ended the conversation abruptly. “Well, that just about ties it all up. I think it’s safe to say that I’ll soon be one of your customers.” The twinkle reappeared as he slipped his reading glasses into his jacket pocket. “Now, as an important customer, I think I’m entitled to some personal service.”
    “Only what’s in our brochure,” Jennifer answered.
    “Well, when will it be convenient for me to tell you my tedious tale?”
    A dozen ways to refuse the invitation flashed in her mind. But this was too good to believe. A Hollywood star was actually hitting on her. “How about on our cocktail yacht. We can meet on the fantail at eight bells.” She decided to see just how far she could take it, although she knew it would end when her Hollywood
star got a glimpse of the real star of the family. Catherine, she decided, would eat Padraig O’Connell alive.
    Catherine’s worst fears were realized. There were three suitable yachts available, but two were in the Greek Isles, too far away to be of any use, and the third belonged to a publishing baron who had no