Mistress of the Game by Sidney Sheldon

Author:Sidney Sheldon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

BOOK TWO

TWENTY-TWO

LOS ANGELES. FIVE YEARS LATER

PAOLO COZMICI LOOKED AT THE

EXQUISITELY DECORATED Bel Air

drawing room and scowled.

“Too many owers. It looks like

somebody died.”

Robbie Templeton kissed him

indulgently on the top of his bald head.

“The owers are perfect. Everything’s

perfect. Relax, babe. Have a drink.”

Tonight was Robbie’s fortieth birthday

party. With typical altruism, he had

decided to mark the milestone with a

charity event that he hoped would raise a

mil ion

dol ars

for

the

Templeton/Cozmici AIDS Foundation.

Stars from the worlds of classical and pop

music, as wel as a smat ering of

Hol ywood movie actors, would soon be

pul ing up to Robbie and Paolo’s wrought-

iron gates, where a huddle of eager

paparazzi was already gathered. The

sprawling Bel Air estate had been home to

classical music’s happiest couple for the

past three years. The real-estate agent

described it as “a French Country manor,”

a turn of phrase that had reduced poor

Paolo to paroxysms of laughter.

“‘Ave you ever been to France?”

It was in fact a vast, vulgar, wedding

cake of a house, smothered in enough

climbing roses to make Martha Stewart

wince. The gardens came complete with a

fake stream powered by a hidden electric

pump and a faux-medieval bridge. It was

the epitome of tackiness: brash, American,

suburban. Disney. But it was also

incredibly comfortable, boasted heart-

stopping views from almost every room,

and—crucial y—a orded total privacy.

Robbie and Paolo had been blissful y

happy there.

“Ah, Lex, there you are. Would you

please tel Monsieur le Grinch here that

the house looks awesome?”

“The house looks awesome.”

It was hard to believe that Lexi

Templeton was thirty years old. Skipping

down the stairs in a vintage gray Hardy

Amies bal gown, with diamonds

gleaming at her ears, neck and wrists, her

skin stil shone like a teenager’s. She wore

her hair long and loose, another girlish

touch

that

belied

the

steely

businesswoman within.

After Lexi left Kruger-Brent ve years

ago in a storm of scandal, most business

pundits wrote her o . Overnight, her

picture stopped appearing on the front

covers of magazines. Lexi made no

statements, responded to no rumors,

approved no messages through “friends”

or “insiders.” She stopped at ending

celebrity parties, charity auctions, gal ery

openings. Word was that she’d left

America, but no one knew for sure. As the

months went by, people ceased to care.

But those who assumed Lexi had

crawled under a rock to lick her wounds

had profoundly underestimated the

strength of her ambition, not to mention

the resilience of her spirit.

Ten days after Max’s coup, Lexi awoke

to the sound of horns blaring outside her

new, rented apartment. The media had

driven her out of her old place. The noise

was mu ed at rst, as if everything had

been covered with a fresh fal of snow.

But during the next few days, the snow

slowly started melting. Sounds became

sharper, crisper. Lexi delighted in each

one like a newborn child. Water gushing

from the faucet in her bathroom made her

laugh out loud. Vendors cursing on the

street below brought a lump to her throat.

Strangest of al was her own voice. It

didn’t seem to belong to her at al .

Dr.

Cheung

was

elated.

“Congratulations, my dear. I’m only sorry

that so much of what you’re hearing at the

moment is so unpleasant.”

Like everyone else in America, Dr.

Cheung had seen the pictures and read the

reports. They were hanging the poor girl

out to dry.

Lexi, however, seemed unfazed: “Don’t

worry about me, Doctor. I can hear again.

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