Hollywood Kids by Jackie Collins Read Free Book Online

fuck you, Arnie. It's
your
problem, not
mine
.'
    'You're a real bitch, Levitt.'
    'No. Merely honest. Makes a refreshing change, doesn't it?'
    He kept his leer firmly in place. 'Lighten up. Who knows? You and I could be this generation's Natalie and R.J.'
    'You're full of shit,' she said offhandedly.
    That's what I like about you, Levitt, your gentle reserve.'
    'Gee, thanks. It's nice to know I'm appreciated.'
    'Give it a rest, you two,' Cheryl said, yawning. 'You're beginning to sound like you're married.'
    Jordanna leaped to her feet. 'That's it. I'm out of here,' she said restlessly.
    Where are you going?' Arnie asked, disappointed.
    To check out the competition.'
    'We have no competition,' he boasted.
    'I'll let you know,' she said crisply.
    On her way to the door she caught a wink from a stoned Charlie Dollar. He was old enough to be her father but still quite sexy. Idly she wondered what he was like in bed - reports varied.
    Out in the parking lot her Porsche was parked right up front. She was a good tipper - learned that from Daddy. 'So you give out an extra thousand bucks a year, it's worth it.' Words of wisdom from the great Jordan Levitt. And he
was
great, when he wanted to be. When he had time. When whoever the current wife was wasn't messing with his brain. Strike that. Make it cock. Fact of life. Jordan Levitt was ruled by the great erection.
    Growing up in Hollywood. Watching Daddy get laid. What an education!
    Jordanna had many fine memories, one of the most vivid being the time she'd discovered her father in the family swimming pool - which happened to be drained at the time - servicing a voluptuous movie star, while their respective spouses circulated at a lavish party taking place inside the house. Jordanna had viewed the entire spectacle from her bedroom window. She'd never told anyone - except Jamie - that it was she who'd switched the floodlights on the pool, illuminating her father's bare ass and the movie star's huge quivering breasts. Wife number three had departed shortly after. Jordanna was satisfied. Mission accomplished.
    She hit the road in her Porsche and dropped by a couple of supposedly happening clubs. Unfortunately, Arnie was right - Homebase Central was the only place to hang, there was no action elsewhere.
    By 2 a.m. she was home. Alone. Another scintillating night in the City of Angels.
    One of these days she'd meet someone who could take away the dull throb of loneliness that stayed with her day and night. Someone who would understand and love her. One of these days.
    Maybe...

Chapter Six
     
    Five days on Quincy and Amber's couch was five days too many. Michael had an aching back and a permanent headache because the baby never stopped crying and the toddler kept up a particularly aggravating whine from early morning on.
    'How do you put up with this?' he said to Quincy as they drove slowly through the residential streets of Beverly Hills - Quincy was giving him the grand tour.
    'It's called marriage, doncha remember?' Quincy said, chuckling.
    Yeah, he remembered all right. Rita complaining every time Bella woke her in the middle of the night. The smell of dirty diapers. Toys and baby clothes all over the floor. A fridge full of formula. Ah, memories...
    'I gotta get my ass outta your back yard,' he muttered, thinking to himself the sooner the better. He'd already looked at several apartments. Unfortunately the ones he liked were too expensive, and the rest were crap.
    'Why?' Quincy asked. 'Amber loves you, an' I kinda get off on havin' you around. It's like old times, only we're not out bustin' our cans chasin' low-life scumbags.'
    'True,' he said, staring through the window at huge wrought-iron gates, sweeping lawns, exotic plants and manicured palm trees. 'Hey, Q, this place is unreal. People really live like this?'
    Quincy laughed. He was a big man, verging on being over-weight, with soft brown eyes, bushy hair, and extra-large hands and feet. He had a habit of waving his hands in the