L.A. Confidential by Julie Kenner Read Free Book Online

say? I’m a heck of a guy.”
    â€œYou?” she teased. “I hadn’t noticed.”
    His grin widened. “No? You should pay more attention.”
    At that, she laughed outright then her smile faded to a frown again. “I’m just afraid Ken’s going to laugh in my face. And I wouldn’t blame him one bit. I was a bitch. Self-centered and stupid.”
    â€œAh, but now you’re a reformed bitch. Or at least you’re a charter member of Bitches Anonymous and firmly on the wagon.”
    She managed a smile, wondering if it was true. If it came down to it, would she do the same thing all over again?
    â€œSeriously,” he continued, “there’s no crime in wanting to focus on your career.”
    â€œI know. But I’m sure he thinks I left him for Tyrell, not for Tyrell’s job offer.” She sighed. “Besides, fat lot of good it did me. I came out here expecting to return to L.A. in triumph, and look at me. I’m going back now with less in my checking account than when I was fresh out of school.”
    â€œI don’t think Ken’s going to care about your checkbook.”
    â€œExcept to feel some smug satisfaction that I blew it.”
    Greg’s smile was patient. Clearly he knew she was in one of her moods. “The way you’ve described him, I don’t think he’s the holier-than-thou type.”
    She wasn’t ready to concede. “Maybe not five years ago, but he’s Mr. Big Shot now.”
    â€œAnd a damn good-looking Mr. Big Shot, too,” Greg said.
    â€œHe’s not your type.” She smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it.
    â€œToo bad.”
    â€œDo you know I went to the opening of Oxygen? Thatwas the night he was going to ask me to marry him. Of course, I found that out later, after I told him I was moving back to New York. Not a very happy memory, and now I’m supposed to go back and ask to film there? Do you have any idea how many old wounds this is going to open?”
    â€œSo don’t take the job.”
    â€œHa, ha.” Taking a fortifying breath, she latched her suitcase and tugged it off the bed. “Wish me luck. I’m off to beg a favor from my ex-boyfriend.”
    â€œGood luck.”
    She paused in the doorway. “Thanks. I’m going to need it.”

3
    â€œT HANKS FOR CHOOSING the Bellisimo, Ms. Neal. Enjoy your stay.”
    Through a haze of exhaustion, Lisa thanked the clerk as she clutched her room key, still not quite believing that Avenue F was footing the bill for her to stay in a hotel as lush as the Bellisimo. She hadn’t slept at all the night before, and now she was having trouble remembering her name, much less what she did with her luggage. She looked down toward her ankles, trying to find the matched set of suitcases her mother had given her years ago and fought a wave of panic until she remembered the bellhop had taken them.
    Stifling a yawn, she surveyed the lobby, trying to find the bellman and her bags. The hotel was just as she’d remembered it. Polished marble columns, polished hardwood floor, everything shiny and gleaming and not the least bit understated. The place practically smelled of money, and it attracted the type of clientele who were drawn to that particular scent.
    Exactly the kind of atmosphere Ken had wanted for his very first restaurant—a prestigious address with acrowd made up of climbers and those already at the top. As Lisa glanced around, she knew he had to be pleased. Not some small part of his success was tied to his skill in choosing the right location.
    Some sort of convention was going on, and the lobby was filled to overflowing with men and women in suits sporting little plastic name tags. When the crowd finally parted a bit, Lisa caught a glimpse of the bellhop near the bank of elevators. With a wave, she signaled that she was on her way.
    Actually getting to him was a bit more tricky, and she ended up having