Free Hollywood Divorces / Hollywood Wives: The New Generation by Jackie Collins

mood for their antics. Since breaking up with his steady girlfriend, Kennedy, three years ago, they were always on his case. The truth was that he hardly dated at all, because women somehow or other always managed to let him down. He knew women considered him exceptionally handsome, and he accepted that as a simple fact. But good looks were not what he was all about, and he resented that most women never saw beyond them. Currently he was dating Carol, a failed ex-actress, now a real estate broker. She was nice enough, but it was painfully obvious that she needed more than he was prepared to give.
    He always warned them up front that there was no way he was interested in a serious relationship. They always agreed that neither were they. And then they fell in love and he was stuck. The survival instinct had taught him to get out just in time.
    ‘I’m heading back to work,’ he said. ‘Glad to see you’re not lacking in the smart mouth department.’
    ‘Thanks, bro,’ Quincy said, reaching for a chocolate cookie. ‘I’ll be walkin’ before you know it.’
    ‘Can’t wait.’
    Michael left their house, stopping for a hamburger on his way to the office. Lissa Roman was still on his mind. It worried him that she’d be alone in her house with a man she knew was cheating on her. Would she be safe? Could she handle it?
    Yes. Of course she could. She was rich and famous, she could probably handle anything.

Chapter Seven
    A fter returning the rental car to the Saks parking lot, Lissa hurried back to Barneys, entering through the front entrance and exiting through the back, where Chuck waited with her car.
    As she walked through the makeup department, she couldn’t help wondering if one of the girls working behind the counters was Gregg’s lover. They were all attractive, young and stylish.
    She glanced around, her eyes hidden beneath her dark glasses.
    Which one was Gregg’s choice? The Chinese girl with the glossy black hair? The pretty blonde in the unsuitable-for-work skimpy top? The languid redhead who seemed to throw her a malevolent glare?
    Who knew? Who cared? Gregg Lynch was soon to be history.
    Arriving home she found Gregg lying out by the pool putting in time on his year-round tan.
    Gregg Lynch. Thirty years old. Handsome in an all-American, dirty-blond, football-hero way.
    Songwriter–talentless, in spite of her valiant efforts to steer him in the right direction.
    Lazy–she supported both of them.
    Charming–when he cared to turn it on.
    Sexy–sometimes.
    Was that why she’d married him? Because he was good in bed?
    Oh, God, she hoped not. She’d married him because he’d seemed so easy-going, was fun to be around, and quite frankly, in spite of all the glamorous trappings she’d been lonely, and after husband number three, a Washington businessman who’d refused to commute, she’d needed a man to share her life with. A man who would be there for her all the way, supporting her in everything she did.
    Wrong again, dammit.
    ‘Hi, babe,’ Gregg said, sitting up and flexing his considerable muscles. ‘How’s my hard-working little movie star with the big tits?’ Lately he’d taken to talking to her as if she was a hooker.
    ‘Fine,’ she answered coldly, wishing she could smash his lying face in. ‘And how’s my lazy-ass little hubby with the big cock?’
    This surprised him, he was not used to Lissa tossing it back at him. ‘Don’t be vulgar, it doesn’t suit you,’ he said cuttingly.
    ‘Oh, sorry ,’ she said, with a sarcastic edge. ‘I thought cock and tits went nicely together.’ And with that she marched into the house before he could come up with an answer.
    Better take it easy, she warned herself. It’s not clever to signal that you know.
    She hurried upstairs to her dressing room, where she stripped down to her bra and panties. Her masseuse was due at the house soon, and she wanted nothing more than to feel a strong pair of hands releasing the built-up tension in her shoulders