‘There we are.’ Bonnie seated herself beside her and cast the younger woman a relieved look. ‘This place gets more and more like a bull ring. I swear to God I’ll have a heart attack if I have to fight my way out of here one more time!’
‘I’m sorry.’ Olivia felt responsible. She watched Manuel get back behind the wheel and start the engine. ‘Anyway, thank you for coming to meet me. I could have got a taxi, I suppose—’
‘Diane wouldn’t hear of it.’ Bonnie interrupted her to make her point. ‘So—you had a good flight, yeah? What was the movie? These days, the only time I get to see a decent movie is on a plane.’
‘Oh, well, I’m afraid I didn’t—’ began Olivia, only to find her companion wasn’t listening.
‘Yeah, movies,’ Bonnie went on reminiscently. ‘You’d think living in a town like this I’d be up on all the latest blockbusters. But, you know what? I spend all my time watching television instead.’
‘Really?’ said Olivia. ‘I like television, too.’ Or she had since the break-up of her marriage. Somehow, she couldn’t see herself as part of the singles scene again.
“Cause working for Diane takes up most of my day, so when I get home I’m exhausted,’ Bonnie continued, almost as if Olivia hadn’t spoken. She flapped an expansive hand. ‘I guess you’ll get used to it. I swear to God, I sometimes think Diane’s too generous for her own good.’
Olivia nodded now, but she didn’t make the mistake of trying to join in again, and she saw Manuel watching her with an amused expression on his olive-skinned face. He winked at her in the rear-view mirror, and she hid a smile. Obviously he was used to Ms Lovelace. Perhaps Olivia should call her Miss. That might get her attention.
But she decided against it. It was too nice a day to spoil it, and the last thing she wanted to do was make an enemy here. She had yet to discover what Diane’s attitude towards her was going to be, and until she did it was safer to play it cool.
Beyond the car’s tinted windows, the streets of the City of the Angels shimmered in the late afternoon sun. Olivia was looking forward to the prospect of taking a shower and changing into something cooler. She hoped she’d have time to freshen up before she met her hostess. She wondered where she was going to stay. Kay had merely said that Diane’s secretary had made the arrangements. Perhaps she’d be expected to stay at the house. Again, according to Kay, Diane’s mansion was quite a showplace.
Their route from the airport was not immediately inspiring, however. They passed what seemed like dozens of car dealerships and abandoned warehouses, with strip malls illuminated with garish neon signs. She saw houses with flaking porches, and incongruously customised vehicles in hot metallic shades. It made it easier for her to grasp the fact that she was actually here. She’d read somewhere that Los Angeles had taken over from Ellis Island as the most heavily burdened immigration point in the United States.
They drove north through sprawling suburbs, passing signs for well-known districts like Marina del Rey and Santa Monica. Olivia seemed to remember there was a pier at Santa Monica, and she guessed there was surfing, too. She couldn’t quite see herself standing up on a surfboard, she mused, deliberately avoiding thoughts of her destination and what it would mean.
Santa Monica Boulevard drove through the heart of the wealthiest district of Los Angeles. Olivia recognised the names of some of the hotels they passed, and Bonnie pointed out the ‘HOLLYWOOD’ sign that towered over what had once been the movie capital of the world. Nowadays, the glitz had become rather tarnished, she told Olivia laconically. But there was still a thriving film community, supplemented by the successful soap stars from TV.
Beverly Hills lay to the west of Hollywood, but to Olivia’s surprise they turned off before the road wound up into the quiet streets far away from the commercial district. A couple of turns and they were in Hunter Plaza, with the Moorish arches of the Beverly Plaza Hotel fronting its famous façade.
Olivia was still admiring the square-cut towers that rose behind its entrance when Manuel drove into the courtyard and stopped before the double glass doors. A major domo stepped forward instantly and opened the door of the limousine, and Bonnie said, ‘Welcome to America,’ before stepping out and gesturing to Olivia to do the same. ‘I’m sure you’re going to be very comfortable here.’
‘Here’ turned out to be a penthouse suite situated on the top floor of the twelve-storey hotel. While Manuel handed her bags over to one of the hotel’s bellboys, Bonnie checked her in, and Olivia realised that it was only a formality by the speed with which Bonnie was given her key. Well, not a key, exactly, she learned, when Bonnie demonstrated how to use the laminated card. Apparently, the code was changed every time a new resident took possession of the room, the card being pressed into the slot to open the door of the suite. The card was obviously easier and lighter to carry around, too.
The suite itself was the most luxurious apartment Olivia could have imagined. Airy, high-ceilinged, furnished in delicate shades of green and blue, with expansive views of Beverly Hills and the hazy downtown areas, it was apparently where she was going to stay. ‘You’re sort of in back of the Beverly Wiltshire,’ explained Bonnie, mentioning the name of one of the landmark hotels. ‘That’s Rodeo Drive down there.’
Olivia guessed she was supposed to be impressed, but in fact she was feeling a bit let down. However reluctant she might have been to meet Diane—and possibly Richard—she’d been ready for it. Now she felt deflated, aware that at some future time she was going to have to face it again.
‘You like it, don’t you?’ Bonnie was looking a little worried now and Olivia guessed that however indifferent the woman might be to her feelings she was anxious that Diane should have nothing to complain about. ‘See.’ She opened another door. ‘This is the bedroom. And that’s the bath—you’ve got a spa bath and a Jacuzzi—through there.’
‘Very nice.’
Olivia tried to sound enthusiastic, but it wasn’t easy. However luxurious it might be, it wasn’t home. She half wished she’d insisted on making her own arrangements for accommodation. A small hotel would have suited her better than this.
‘The hotel can supply you with a PC,’ added Bonnie briskly. ‘Diane didn’t know what you’d need so she’s left that up to me. I’ll be checking in with you all the time, so that’s not a problem, and Diane was sure that you’d work more easily here.’
And keep out of her hair.
The words were unspoken, but as the bellboy came in with her luggage and Bonnie went to tip him Olivia gazed around the suite with a cynical eye. Was this what Richard had really abandoned her for? she wondered. This wealthy lifestyle? What price now his accusations that she couldn’t give him the children he wanted? As far as she knew, he and Diane hadn’t had any children either. Though, of course, that could be her decision, not his.
‘D’you need any help with your unpacking?’
The bellboy had departed now and Bonnie was regarding her with a vaguely irritated air. Olivia guessed her reaction hadn’t been the one she’d expected. She wondered if the secretary knew that Richard had once been married to her. Somehow, she doubted it.
‘No,’ she answered now, slipping off her corduroy jacket. It was quite a relief to feel the air-conditioned air cooling her bare arms. ‘Um—thank you,’ she added, almost as an afterthought. ‘I can manage, really. You’ve been very kind.’
‘Well, good.’ Bonnie was mollified by her reply and with a tight smile she gave the apartment another thorough look. ‘I suggest you rest up for a while, and then order yourself some dinner from Room Service. You’ll have plenty of time to explore the hotel when your