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specifically, the scene where he had worn nothing but a pair of Speedos. Can we get a picture?' one asked, digging an expensive phone from her handbag.
    Sure thing,' said Grant. Dude, can you do the honours?' Eddie took the phone and snapped a couple of photos as the trio crowded round the actor. They seemed thrilled with the
    results, thanking Grant before leaving, already forwarding the pictures to everyone in their address books.
    The star watched them go, nodding approvingly as he checked them out. Damn. I shoulda got their numbers, see if they wanted to go clubbing—
    Hey!' someone said. They both turned to see two men, one a beefy gel-haired twenty-something in a polo shirt with a popped collar, the other, smaller and nerdier, lurking behind him. You're Grant Thorn, right?'
    Eddie knew what was about to happen purely from the bigger man's sneering smirk: his client was about to be insulted. The guy intended to impress his friend and provide them both with a boastful bar-room story For years to come. He moved forward as Grant answered. Yeah?'
    You suck, man.' The smirk widened. 'You really fucking suck. That last movie of yours. Nitrous? What a piece of shit. I watched a pirate download and I still wanted a refund.' Grant's expression was frozen in a clenched fake smile. 'And Til tell you something else,' said the man, pleased to have provoked him. He raised a hand to jab Grant's chest.
    Eddie stepped in. 'Put the hand down, mate,' he said in a calm but cold voice.
    Polo-shirt was about to jab Eddie instead, but his finger stopped short under the Englishman's intimidating stare. 'What, you going to give me trouble?' he said.
    Only if you want it.'
    Uncertainty crossed the young man's face, and he stepped back, his friend retreating with him. Whoa, big man, hiding behind a bodyguard,' he called as they walked away. 'You still suck. Thorn!
    Fag!' added his friend, though not very loudly.
    Eddie kept watching until they were a safe distance from his client, then turned to Grant. 'You want their numbers? 1
    Grant shook his head, rattled. Huh. Some people. No respect. Thanks, man.
    It's what I do, Mr Thorn,' said Eddie, shrugging.
    Right/ They set off again. Course, I coulda handled him/ Eddie made a faintly dismissive noise. No, dude, seriously! Before I started shooting Gale Force, I went on a training course -like action movie school? A whole week of learning how to shoot guns and drive fast and do Krav Maga fighting. Pretty awesome/
    A whole week?' said Eddie. Tin impressed/
    Grant was oblivious of his sarcasm. 'You gotta be good to stay at the top.' They continued down Fifth Avenue, the actor attracting attention all the way to Harmann's. To Eddie's relief, it was only the star-struck kind.
    Ay up,' said Eddie as he entered the apartment. He raised his voice to counter the noise from the television. How's things?
    The sight of a three-quarters empty bottle of wine gave him his answer. Been better,' Nina replied.
    You're drinking too much,' he chided as he hung up his jacket. Why's the telly on so loud?'
    Because it's better than listening to crying babies or the Lockhorns next door arguing again or that monkey-faced asshole downstairs playing music at full blast. I hate this apartment.' She curled up, pressing her chin between her knees. 'I hate this building. I hate this neighbourhood. I hate this whole goddamn boroughl ' Blissville, Queens, was wedged between the Long Island Expressway, a cemetery and a miserable grey river lined with rundown industrial buildings, and could hardly have been more inappropriately named if it had tried.
    Eddie found the remote and lowered the volume. Ah, come on. Queens isn't that bad. Maybe it's not Manhattan, but at least it's still New York.' He tried for some levity. 'Could have been worse; we might have had to move to New Jersey.'
    It didn't work. It's not funny, Eddie,' Nina growled. 'My life completely, utterly sucks.' She looked over to the letter on the counter. I got another