Secrets by Danielle Steel Read Free Book Online

matter of time before somebody figured out who she was and called the papers, Ex-star of Sunday Supper gets busted for possession of cocaine, or whatever it was, and then the photographers would arrive and start taking pictures. He didn't want to expose her to that, or himself, in case one of these days someone figured out that they were married. She was becoming an embarrassment to him and it made his agent nervous.
    Bill ' I have to go now' . He could hear voices as she hung up the phone, harsh voices, voices of cops, and suddenly it came home to him, where she was, and what it would be like for her. And he couldn't stand it. She was so fucking helpless, and he was so tired of rescuing her, but he felt as though he had no choice. He took a drag on his cigarette and dialed his agent.
    How'd you do at the last call? The agent sounded surprised to hear from him at home, but not very. Lots of actors called him at home and he didn't really mind it.
    Like shit. Look I'm sorry to call you like this but something's come up ' can I borrow some money?
    There was a startled silence, but the agent recovered quickly. Bill was someone he had the utmost confidence in, he would have done anything for him. And he knew for certain that one day he would repay him. Sure, baby, how much?
    Bill almost groaned. He had forgotten to ask her how much the bail was, but it couldn't have been too bad. Say five hundred bucks to be on the safe side?
    The safe side of what? Sandy's not fucked up again, is she? He knew about Sandy and he didn't like her. As far as he was concerned, Bill Warwick didn't need that headache. No one did. She was bad news, and getting worse all the time, from what he heard. She was poison in Hollywood, and Bill hadn't looked happy for months. It was easy to see why. But Bill was not in the mood to confide in anyone, least of all his agent.
    No, she's okay, the damn dog had to have an operation, and I just need some money, that's all.
    Okay ' sure ' no sweat. Come by the office tomorrow.
    Could I come by tonight?
    From the tone of his voice, Harry knew it was Sandy, but there was no point arguing with him. They'd been over it before, and he had all these stupid chivalrous ideas about what was expected of him, as her husband. Besides which, Bill was still half in love with her, actually he was in love with the girl she'd been when they met, a girl who no longer existed. But Harry had learned years before not to argue with his clients about their women. Okay, okay, man. I've got some money at the house. Come over whenever you want to.
    Bill heaved a sigh of relief and stubbed out the cigarette. He glanced at his watch. I'll be there in an hour. It was difficult to play knight in shining armor when you had to depend on public transportation to get anywhere, particularly in L.A. But Bill tore out of the house and walked down the hill to stand at the bus stop. It took him less than an hour to get to Harry's house on the fringes of Beverly Hills, and another half hour to get to the Hollywood station on North Wilcox, where he discovered that Sandy had been busted with two black men and another girl, for possession with intent to sell illegal substances, and she and the girl had been additionally charged with prostitution. He stood white-lipped and stunned as he peeled off Harry's money to bail her, and she looked frightened and sick as she stumbled toward him and he caught her.
    He said nothing at all to her, but walked outside and hailed a cab, and once in the cab he saw that she was shaking, and she started to cry. She was heavily drugged, and she looked filthy and sleazy. He suddenly saw her as she was, sick and broken and degenerate and dirty, and the idea that his wife had been arrested for prostitution hurt him more than the rest of it. She would have done anything to get drugs, including steal from him, and sell her body to a stranger. He said not a word to her as he walked into their cottage and she followed him. The dog bounded