Hollywood Hit by Maggie Marr Page A

Nikki.
    Cici folded her hands onto the table. “This film, the ability to produce a great piece of material with JP Anderson, would be any young producer’s dream. I want to make it a reality for Nikki.”
    “This is a distraction." Jessica picked up the most recent copy of Us Weekly that lay on the table. This one had both a picture of Adam and Nikki as well as the grainy photo of Nikki and Cici leaving Jeb’s house on the night of his murder.
    “Fuck ’em,” Cici said and swigged from her water bottle again. “I’m tired of the compromises. I’ve spent a lifetime being careful with my image. I’ve covered things and run from things and played so much pretend that sometimes I’m not certain anymore who I am.” She pinned both her friends with her gaze. “I’m making this film, and I know you and you”—she pointed a finger at each of her friends—“will make it with me.”
    A hard, thick feeling settled in Lydia’s chest. A resignation to the events yet to come, gift wrapped in years of loyal friendship. She wouldn’t abandon Cici.
    And Jessica?
    Lydia ran her gaze over Jessica’s auburn hair and Ferragamo sunglasses. She was cool and composed even with the knowledge that Cici, on set with Nikki, would be an uphill slog. Nikki wanted independence while the Cici wanted to create a family.
    “She doesn’t want my help.” Cici’s voice held ice tips mixed with soft pain. “But she’s found something real, something valuable. It would be a waste of good material, a waste of an opportunity, not to make this film. A horrible waste—not only for me, but for her too.” Cici settled her palms onto the tabletop. “Look, it’s true, this is a big opportunity for me—a huge role that I desperately want—but it is also an opportunity to give Nikki what she wants and what she needs. She wouldn’t take my help before, but now it’s business. This is an opportunity to make sure she learns how to do it right. With me in the film and Lydia producing the film—”
    “How many times do I have to say this? I am not a producer on this film.” Lydia flicked her gaze from Jessica to Cici.
    “If Cici wants to star in Boundless Bound ," Jessica said, "then Worldwide will pick up the project contingent on Bikram accepting you as a producer on the project which means—”
    “I am producing it.” Lydia sighed.
    Both Cici and Jessica smiled.
    “With you producing alongside Nikki, and me in the film, and Mike as the studio exec, and Jessica playing backup for anything we need, I know we can give Nikki exactly what I wanted to give her when she got to LA,” Cici said.
     “And you might get a nice piece of hardware as a bonus,” Lydia said. The left corner of her mouth hitched upward. There wasn’t room for complete selflessness in the Hollywood game.
    “Indeed, I might,” Cici said.
    “I guess we’re making this film,” Lydia said. She pulled the edge of the tabloid and turned the copy of Us Weekly toward her. “Poor Nikki.” Lydia shook her head. “That girl has no idea the freight train that is about to hit her.”

 
Chapter 14
Clarity in Malibu
     
    The drive through Malibu Canyon with its rolling hills, tight turns, and deep ravines was beautiful, but it was kicking Christina’s ass. Today was the third time in two weeks she’d driven to Clarity, high in the hills of Malibu, to see Bradford.
    No friends or family visited. The revelation that Bradford didn’t have anyone else to check on his progress or to care about his well-being cut a hole through Christina. His aloneness sealed her close to him and fastened her to his recovery. Christina turned into the private drive and pulled past the guard booth and into a parking space. She’d brought lattes and cigarettes—the two things for which Bradford always asked when she inquired if he needed anything from the outside world.
    The Clarity rehab facility was plush. Sunlight streamed through two-story paned windows and cast bright squares onto