Free Confessions of a Wild Child by Jackie Collins Page A

over, Olympia checks out the kitchen and discovers that the refrigerator is stocked with wine, beer, and 7-Up. A walk-in cupboard offers caterers’ boxes of potato chips, cans of tuna fish and multiple packets of nuts. No other food in sight.
    ‘OK,’ Olympia decides. ‘Tonight we head into town and get ourselves a decent meal. I don’t know about you, but I fancy a great big bowl of bouillabaisse and some fresh lobster smothered in mayonnaise. Sounds yummy.’
    ‘Can we afford it?’ I ask, thinking of our somewhat meagre funds.
    Olympia throws me one of her looks. ‘Who needs money when we’ve got our fine young bodies?’ she says with her usual giggle. ‘Guys will be gagging to buy us dinner.’
    *  *  *
     
    It occurs to me that Olympia is always right. She sure knows her stuff, because the moment we hit the main drag in Cannes, guys are all over us! Well, I guess I should say guys are all over Olympia. It’s the big boobs and the blonde hair, not to mention the short shorts she has squeezed herself into, so short that they barely cover her ass.
    I suppose we make an odd couple – me in my tight jeans and T-shirt, Olympia dressed to kill. I could show off my bod if I wanted to, the thing is – I don’t want to.
    Olympia boldly checks out the prospects, finally settling on a slim blondish man who is sitting by himself on the Blue Bar terrace. He gets up when she passes for the second time, mumbles something about haven’t they met before, then when she says no way – he invites us both for a drink.
    I am inclined to say no. However, Olympia is already sitting down at his table, and he is ordering Pernod all round.
    Reluctantly I join her, even though I’m not sure I like the look of him. He strikes me as a bit shifty with his long corn-coloured hair and pale eyelashes.
    It turns out he’s an American film producer by the name of Warris Charters, and he’s in town for the Cannes Film Festival.
    ‘What films have you produced?’ I ask, wondering if food is on the agenda.
    His eyes switch from Olympia’s boobs to me.
    ‘ Kiss and Kill ,’ he says brusquely. ‘Big hit.’
    Never heard of it , I want to say, only I don’t. Seems he’s the one about to buy us dinner so I’d better stay cool.
    ‘I wouldn’t mind being an actress,’ Olympia says, flashing him a winning smile. ‘Maybe you’ll put me in one of your movies.’
    ‘Acting’s not all glitz and glamour,’ Warris remarks, scratching his chin. ‘I was a child star until I hit puberty. At thirteen it was all over – so eventually I turned producer. Control and cash, that’s where it’s all at.’
    Olympia’s face lights up. She is already into him, I can tell.
    ‘Where are you girls from?’ Warris asks.
    ‘We’re international,’ Olympia replies, sipping her Pernod.
    I can see Warris thinking. He knows we’re young, and he must be wondering how come we’re on the loose in Cannes. He has to be at least thirty – old, like Marco. Only Marco is deliciously dark and sexy and Warris is so not. I wish I was with Marco now.
    ‘I’m starving,’ Olympia announces. ‘Can we order food?’
    ‘Great idea,’ I say, happily joining in.
    Warris leans closer to Olympia and whispers something in her ear. I strain to hear. He’s tempting her with grass instead of food. Bummer! I’ve tried pot a couple of times, and I’m not sure I enjoy feeling out of control.
    ‘Where can we go?’ Olympia asks, and I know she’s hoping that Warris has his own yacht or something along those lines. Olympia is all for luxury unlimited.
    Warris shrugs and says – ‘Where are you staying? My hotel doesn’t encourage visitors.’
    Huh?
    Much to my annoyance, Olympia buys his bullshit. ‘We have a villa in the hills,’ she says, like we haven’t vowed to keep our whereabouts a deep dark secret. ‘We can go there.’
    Bad move, O. We don’t know anything about this lechy-looking guy, and now we’re taking him home with us. Not the coolest move