Free Lovers & Players by Jackie Collins Page A

him at Universal.
    Gregory was English, overweight and pushing sixty. He had rheumy eyes that had experienced a thousand hangovers and a shock of startlingly thick white hair. He spent half his time in Hollywood, where he kept a Malibu beach house and the requisite blonde girlfriend, and the other half in Manhattan, where he inhabited a book-filled apartment with his crabby, lesbian-inclined wife.
    Gregory was an old-school type guy. He was into drinking Jack Daniel’s, smoking strong Cuban cigars and showing off his extensive gun collection.
    ‘Have a drink,’ Gregory said, in a deep whisky-soaked voice. He was sitting with a couple of cronies–one of them a former police captain. ‘How’s the shifting shit in California?’
    Gregory always made out that he was not a fan of L.A. However, he seemed very happy when he was lounging on the deck of his six-million-dollar house in the Malibu Colony with his blonde babe by his side, and movie stars as his neighbours.
    ‘We’re making progress on the new deal,’ Chris said, pulling up a chair. ‘Should have contracts for you to look over in the next couple of weeks.’
    ‘Cannot wait, dear boy,’ Gregory drawled sarcastically. ‘This time I want everything .’
    ‘You’ll get it,’ Chris said, ordering Scotch in a tall glass with a lot of ice. He’d learned how to keep up with Gregory’s drinking habits and still look as if he was imbibing. Ice was the secret. Plenty of it.
    ‘Excellent,’ boomed Gregory, and, turning to his friends, ‘This boy is the best.’
    Chris did not appreciate being called ‘boy’, but he knew it was just Gregory’s way, and since the old guy was such a big-bucks client, what did he care?
    After two drinks he made his exit and took a cab back to the Four Seasons. On the way he called one of his assistants in L.A., and listened while Andy filled him in on the day’s business. Nothing he couldn’t deal with on his return to L.A. No major problems, although there was always something going on.
    Tomorrow morning he’d see his father, and maybe by the time he left New York, he’d be a hell of a lot richer.

Chapter Nine
     
    I n a way Diahann Dozier dreaded spending the weekend with her daughter. Whenever they got together there was always a fight involved. Liberty had never really forgiven her for abandoning a going-nowhere singing career and settling for a steady income with a permanent home.
    Diahann was well aware that her daughter considered her job as Mr Diamond’s housekeeper demeaning and beneath her. But Liberty was only nineteen and had no idea of what life was all about or how hard it could be. She’d learn soon enough the difficulties of being out there on your own, especially for a woman with a baby to support.
    Diahann sighed. Liberty was a beautiful girl, stunning in fact, so if she was smart she’d find herself a decent man and settle down. Enough of this I-want-a-career nonsense. Diahann knew well enough how hopeless it was chasing dreams that never materialized.
    Over the years she’d made it her business to discourage her daughter as much as she could, which wasn’t easy, because Liberty was a stubborn girl and there was no getting through to her. Plus she was talented, but Diahann knew that talent wasn’t enough to get you where you wanted to go. There were too many pretty girls with talent who were prepared to do anything to make it. Unfortunately doing anything didn’t guarantee a thing. Luck and timing was what it was all about. Finding the right mentor who believed in you and worked steadily to build your career.
    Diahann sighed again. Mariah Carey was a shining example of luck and timing. If the famous singer hadn’t met Tommy Mottola, and if the powerful record mogul hadn’t decided to create a star…
    Diahann made her way downstairs to her basement apartment in Mr Diamond’s brownstone, thinking that she was happy to have her daughter home–if only for a few days. On the other hand, Liberty would