Hollywood Kids by Jackie Collins Read Free Book Online Page B

half.'
    'Sounds like your kind of man, Rosa.'
    'I'm perfectly happy with my basketball player, thank you. He might be young, but he has stamina and... uh... other attributes I'm too much of a lady to mention.'
    'Sure!'
    Rosa giggled. 'OK, OK, he's hung like a bull and I think I'm in love.'
    'Again?'
    They both laughed. Rosa's love life was legendary, she used men for sex the way men usually used women, and she always got away with it because she never let them into the secret.
    'Why are you questioning me about Bobby Rush?' Rosa asked curiously.
    Kennedy sighed. 'Because Mason - in his wisdom - requires me to write a cover story on this person I've never heard of.'
    'Check out the movie pronto and get back to me. I got a feeling you'll like what you see.'
    'I'll let you know.'
    An hour later she was sitting in a darkened theatre watching Bobby Rush emote. He was certainly movie-star material with his regular features, dirty blond hair and incredible blue eyes. The body was good, too - and he flashed regularly - kind of like a Richard Gere for the nineties. At one point in the movie there was a brief full frontal shot - fast but worthwhile.
    Male bimbo? she jotted down with a question mark. Beautiful but dumb? If he was, she could rip him to shreds without any trouble at all.
    Now why would I want to do that? she asked herself.
    Because I have no intention of writing the usual love-struck female journalist puff piece.
    She called Mason. 'Send me everything you've got on him
and
the father.'
    'This is not supposed to be a father/son piece,' Mason warned. 'His press people were adamant about that.' A pause. 'But do what you want - make it provocative.'
    'I intend to.'

* * *
    The Sunset View Hollywood apartments did not live up to their glamorous name. There was no sunset because they faced the wrong way, and absolutely no view. The small cluster of run-down apartments were located in a seedy side-street off Hollywood Boulevard.
    'Shit!' Michael muttered, as Quincy parked his car outside. 'Rita told me she and Bella were living in a decent place. This is a crap hole.'
    'Maybe it's better on the inside,' Quincy said, always the optimist.
    'Maybe not,' Michael said grimly, eyeing a couple of derelicts huddled in a doorway surrounded by overflowing shopping carts.
    'Let's go take a look,' Quincy suggested.
    They got out of the car, dodging a drunken bum who staggered by singing to himself.
    'No kid of mine is living here,' Michael said, running up the front steps. 'This isn't what I'm paying alimony for.'
    'Calm down,' Quincy said, right behind him. 'You haven't seen Rita in a while, don't start with the screamin', see what she has to say first.'
    'I don't give a shit what she has to say,' Michael said angrily, and he meant it. Quincy could try and calm him all he wanted, but no way was his daughter staying in a dump like this.
    He pressed the buzzer marked Rita Polone. Trust his lovely ex to use her maiden name, Scorsini wasn't good enough for her, Rita wanted better. She'd come to Hollywood to find it and look where she'd ended up.
    There was no reply to his persistent buzzing, so he leaned on the bell next to hers.
    After a few moments a head poked out of an upstairs window and an elderly fat woman wearing too much make-up and a pink bow in her hair croaked an unfriendly, 'If ya sellin' I ain't buyin'. If ya buyin' I bin outta the business five years, an' why that dumb ass freebie piece a shit magazine keeps runnin' my address ain't my concern.'
    Michael took a couple of steps away from the building and looked up. 'I'm trying to contact Rita Polone,' he shouted.
    'Who?' the woman yelled back, cupping her ear.
    'Rita Polone. She lives in the apartment below you with her little girl.'
    'Oh,
her
?' the woman snorted. 'That redheaded slut. Don't know where she is, an' don't care.' With that she disappeared, slamming her window shut.
    'Nice neighbours,' Quincy remarked cheerfully.
    'Christ!' Michael said, getting more frustrated by