attached.”
Cici’s fingertips tingled and her heart pitter-pattered at a higher rate in her chest.
“JP Anderson,” Jessica said.
Cici gulped in air. She closed her eyes. She might give her right kidney to work with JP Anderson. The last three actresses who had starred in JP Anderson films had gotten a nomination for an Oscar and two had won.
“And the script?” Cici whispered.
“Pretty fucking good,” Jessica said. “I’m halfway through and it’s brilliant. I mean, when you throw JP into the mix—Cici, this thing could be awesome.”
Cici’s heart ka-thwapped against her ribs. Bikram had called Jessica because JP wanted her—no, needed her, in that role.
“And he wants…” Cici closed her eyes. “JP wants me?” she whispered softly.
“According to Bikram,” Jessica said. “JP will only do the film if you’re in the lead.”
“Send it to me,” Cici gasped out. “I want it. I want it now. Have to read it—send it now!”
“Already done,” Jessica said. “Check your e-mail.”
Cici smiled. Her eyes continued to glance across the pictures of Nikki on the table, but there was a too-long pause from Jessica—a pause that made Cici’s breath become shallow and her heart hammer faster.
“What is it Jess,” Cici said. “There’s something else—a shoe to drop?”
Jessica sighed into the phone. Cici could picture her with her chin on her hand, trying to figure out how to tell Cici something that Jess knew for certain that Cici didn’t want to hear.
“Let it rip, Jess.”
“Well… it’s the script.”
“You said it was brilliant.” Cici’s brows furrowed.
“It is brilliant,” Jessica said. “But it’s Boundless Bound .”
“ Boundless Bound, ” Cici whispered and glanced over at Kiki, whose eyes where wide and her lips were formed into a perfect O. “Boundless Bound —how do I know that name?”
Then it hit Cici—a sack of wet cement to the gut. Boundless Bound !
“Oh my fucking God,” Cici said. “That’s Jebidiah Schmaltzer’s script!”
“And there is the problem,” Jessica said.
Cici closed her eyes. Nothing came easy for her. Every advantage, every gain, every positive thing in her life always came vacuum-packed in problems. She should be used to the good coming with the cream-filled bad.
“We could push,” Cici said, already knowing that Jess would have tried to think of every possible solution.
“JP has the next four slots full. We push and it’s at least another eighteen months before we go into production.”
Anything could happen in eighteen months.
“I’ll read it,” Cici said softly. “This will be such a shit-storm for Nikki.”
“Uh, yeah,” Jessica said. “Because the new owner of the script according to Bikram isn’t Jeb’s widow, but is in fact one Miss Nikki Solange.”
Chapter 12
Bare, Beautiful Skin
Nikki’s decrepit Toyota rattled to a stop in front of Aunt Cici’s security gate. Late last night LiLo was found, car banged into yet another Beverly Hills tree. Finally the paps had dispersed from in front of Aunt Cici’s Bel Air gate and congealed into a giant blob of bulb-flashing humanity in front of the Beverly Hills police department. Now only the celebrity-sighting van cruised by at exactly eleven, one, and three—Nikki could time her arrival and departure around those tourist looky-loos.
The Toyota’s backseat was full of all the itty-bitties and errands Aunt Cici had asked Nikki to take care of. Shoes, gowns, dry cleaning, Kiehl’s, bags, books—the price tag for the merchandise in the backseat of Nikki’s Toyota exceeded the value of the entire car times ten.
Nikki punched in the security code and the gates rumbled to life. She gunned her car up the curling Mount-Olympus-style drive. Her iPhone rang. She already had her earbuds in, so she pressed Call to pick up.
“Nikki, darling, it’s Kiki.”
Nikki’s left shoulder muscle tightened into a hard knot. There couldn’t be any good
Cici’s fingertips tingled and her heart pitter-pattered at a higher rate in her chest.
“JP Anderson,” Jessica said.
Cici gulped in air. She closed her eyes. She might give her right kidney to work with JP Anderson. The last three actresses who had starred in JP Anderson films had gotten a nomination for an Oscar and two had won.
“And the script?” Cici whispered.
“Pretty fucking good,” Jessica said. “I’m halfway through and it’s brilliant. I mean, when you throw JP into the mix—Cici, this thing could be awesome.”
Cici’s heart ka-thwapped against her ribs. Bikram had called Jessica because JP wanted her—no, needed her, in that role.
“And he wants…” Cici closed her eyes. “JP wants me?” she whispered softly.
“According to Bikram,” Jessica said. “JP will only do the film if you’re in the lead.”
“Send it to me,” Cici gasped out. “I want it. I want it now. Have to read it—send it now!”
“Already done,” Jessica said. “Check your e-mail.”
Cici smiled. Her eyes continued to glance across the pictures of Nikki on the table, but there was a too-long pause from Jessica—a pause that made Cici’s breath become shallow and her heart hammer faster.
“What is it Jess,” Cici said. “There’s something else—a shoe to drop?”
Jessica sighed into the phone. Cici could picture her with her chin on her hand, trying to figure out how to tell Cici something that Jess knew for certain that Cici didn’t want to hear.
“Let it rip, Jess.”
“Well… it’s the script.”
“You said it was brilliant.” Cici’s brows furrowed.
“It is brilliant,” Jessica said. “But it’s Boundless Bound .”
“ Boundless Bound, ” Cici whispered and glanced over at Kiki, whose eyes where wide and her lips were formed into a perfect O. “Boundless Bound —how do I know that name?”
Then it hit Cici—a sack of wet cement to the gut. Boundless Bound !
“Oh my fucking God,” Cici said. “That’s Jebidiah Schmaltzer’s script!”
“And there is the problem,” Jessica said.
Cici closed her eyes. Nothing came easy for her. Every advantage, every gain, every positive thing in her life always came vacuum-packed in problems. She should be used to the good coming with the cream-filled bad.
“We could push,” Cici said, already knowing that Jess would have tried to think of every possible solution.
“JP has the next four slots full. We push and it’s at least another eighteen months before we go into production.”
Anything could happen in eighteen months.
“I’ll read it,” Cici said softly. “This will be such a shit-storm for Nikki.”
“Uh, yeah,” Jessica said. “Because the new owner of the script according to Bikram isn’t Jeb’s widow, but is in fact one Miss Nikki Solange.”
Chapter 12
Bare, Beautiful Skin
Nikki’s decrepit Toyota rattled to a stop in front of Aunt Cici’s security gate. Late last night LiLo was found, car banged into yet another Beverly Hills tree. Finally the paps had dispersed from in front of Aunt Cici’s Bel Air gate and congealed into a giant blob of bulb-flashing humanity in front of the Beverly Hills police department. Now only the celebrity-sighting van cruised by at exactly eleven, one, and three—Nikki could time her arrival and departure around those tourist looky-loos.
The Toyota’s backseat was full of all the itty-bitties and errands Aunt Cici had asked Nikki to take care of. Shoes, gowns, dry cleaning, Kiehl’s, bags, books—the price tag for the merchandise in the backseat of Nikki’s Toyota exceeded the value of the entire car times ten.
Nikki punched in the security code and the gates rumbled to life. She gunned her car up the curling Mount-Olympus-style drive. Her iPhone rang. She already had her earbuds in, so she pressed Call to pick up.
“Nikki, darling, it’s Kiki.”
Nikki’s left shoulder muscle tightened into a hard knot. There couldn’t be any good
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