Dreaming With A Broken Heart (Hollywood Legends Book 1) (13 page)

Walking was an option Jade might have considered at another
time. Today, the heat and her heels made the decision an easy one. She walked
around the side of the house in the opposite direction of the multi-car garage.
There was no chance of getting away unnoticed if she tried to drive herself. As
with every other aspect of his household, her father insisted on doing things a
certain way. He employed a system that he left others to oversee. Rule number
one: Jade couldn’t take a car without Anson Marlow’s permission.

Jade used to tip Julio, her father’s driver/mechanic, to let
her sneak her car out. He was one of the staff sympathetic to her situation.
She hated that they thought of her as that
poor little
rich girl
.
Still, she wasn’t above using it to her advantage. That was before Stephen.
Now, Julio was gone. His replacement couldn’t be bribed. He was convinced Jade
shouldn’t be driving. Not with her fragile nerves. It was frustrating —
humiliating. So, she stopped trying. If she left the house on her own, she
called a cab.

The taxi service was on speed dial. She used them so often
and tipped so well, she was guaranteed a ride within an hour — no matter where
she was in the city. Here in Beverly Hills, the wait was never more than twenty
minutes. Seeing her ride, Jade slipped into the back seat.

“Good afternoon, Miss Marlow.”

“How are you, Troy?”

“Great. Business is booming. Where can I take you
today?”

“Not far.”

She gave him the address. Being so familiar with a cab driver
might seem strange to most people. To Jade, it made perfect sense. Over the
past six months, Troy had practically become her personal driver.

At first, when he kept turning up, Jade was suspicious. Was
he a reporter using the taxi service as a cover? She was a hot story.
Magazines, newspapers, television shows. They all wanted interviews. The more
the salacious the details, the better. The answer was no when it happened. It
would remain no.

Jade hoped the interest would fade away. So far, no such
luck. Reporters tried everything. They weren’t permanent fixtures outside the
house anymore. Her father put an end to that. He always had someone to call who
owed him a favor. Still the offers persisted. As did the pop-up paparazzi.

She figured if Troy were going to write a story, it would
have happened by now. Jade decided he was exactly what he seemed. A kind,
middle-aged man who took her where she requested, asked no questions, and was
satisfied with her very generous tips.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”

The cab drove through the gates. Jade’s name opened them
without question. The mansion owned by Callie Flynn and Caleb Landis was
legendary. Built in Hollywood’s early days by a silent screen goddess,
subsequent owners were legends in their own right. Now, the walls housed the
town’s reigning king and queen.

Jade took a deep breath. She couldn’t get the thought out of
her head that this meeting was more than a casual get-together. Why now? They
lived in the same neighborhood all of Jade’s life. Suddenly, Callie Flynn
wanted to be friends?

“Give me a call when you’re ready,” Troy said. He
turned, smiling. “I’ve had a thing for Callie Flynn since I saw her in
Moonglow
.”

“You and every man with a pulse.” Jade wondered
what it was like to have that kind of instant appeal.

“She’s even more beautiful now. I love a woman who
isn’t afraid to age gracefully.” Troy gave the kind of sigh a man gave
when he knew the object of his desire was way, way out of his league.

“If every woman aged as well as Callie Flynn,”
Jade laughed, “they wouldn’t be afraid either.”

Troy sighed again, pulling his gaze away from the door of
the Landis home. He smiled at Jade. “Like I said, call me. I’ll be
around.”

Jade watched the taxi drive away. Was she a coward to wish
she were in the back seat, her visit over? With a shrug, she turned.
Don’t
be a baby
, she admonished herself. What was the worst that could happen?
You
could blurt out
that Garrett is your lover
. Now, isn’t that what
every mother wants to hear when she’s serving afternoon tea?

Before she could ring the doorbell, Jade felt her phone
vibrate. She turned off the ringer before leaving home. Unless there was some
potential emergency looming, it seemed rude to get a phone call when visiting.

Jade opened her bag to glance at the lighted screen.
Her
father
. She could imagine what he wanted.
Where are you
? He would
demand.
Why did you leave when you knew I wanted to speak to you?

She ignored the call. For most of Jade’s life, Anson Marlow could
have cared less where she was or whom she was with. Since her return from the
hospital, he was like a child experiencing separation anxiety. All of it done
under the watchful eyes of other people. Was there such a thing as clinginess
by proxy?

Either way, Jade knew her father wasn’t worried about
her
.
His fear was her going rogue. What if she talked to the wrong people? He didn’t
want all the money he had spent on spin control to be wasted. Since Stephen’s
disappearance, Anson Marlow controlled what was said and who said it. The
little bits of information that were leaked
never
contained a word he
hadn’t approved. According to the reports, Jade was recovering nicely. Her
charitable activities, always important, were once again a priority in her
life. Accompanying these little blurbs were flattering photographs. Jade always
looked serene. Almost happy.

As far as the world was concerned, Jade Marlow was fully
recovered. She was once more Anson Marlow’s pampered, privileged daughter.
Everything was back to normal. Only a select few knew the truth. In the Marlow
home, normal was all kinds of fucked up. It always had been. Only now, thanks
to Stephen Marsh, her father’s complicity, and Jade’s willingness to play the
victim, another layer of shit had been added.

What her father didn’t see or understand was that Jade was
changing. She was getting stronger every day. Inch by inch, she was shoveling
her way out. For the first time in her life, she knew what fresh air smelled
like and no matter what, she was never going to fall in that putrid hole again.

Jade didn’t just ignore the call; she turned the phone off.
It might be petty, but she liked the idea of her father’s frustration when she
didn’t pick up. He considered voice mail an insult to his position in life. Jade
smiled. A small victory, yet a satisfying one.

The front door opened before Jade could ring the bell.
Expecting a butler or maid, she was taken aback to come face to face with none
other than Callie Flynn.

“Jade,” the woman said as she reached for Jade’s
hand. “Come in.”

Without a word, Jade let herself be pulled into the house. A
few details registered. The marble floors, cathedral ceilings. Nothing new
there. This
was
Beverly Hills. The color caught Jade’s attention. Pops
of cheery yellow, vibrant blue and vivid red accented the foyer in a way Jade
had never seen before. Her eye was drawn to an abstract painting on one wall, a
rug near another. In front of a large mirror, there were flowers in every color
in the rainbow.

“I was so happy when you agreed to come over. I know it
was last minute.”

“I was surprised.”

“Of course you were.” Callie didn’t stop, leading
Jade past a long staircase, through what appeared to be a library, and then
outside. “Why, we’re practically neighbors and this is the first time
you’ve been in my home. If I let myself, I would be ashamed.”

The words struck Jade as slightly ridiculous, causing an
uncontrollable laugh to escape past her lips. Horrified, Jade quickly
apologized.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t laughing at
you.

“I don’t know why not,” Callie told her with a
gentle smile. “I tend to speak my mind. Sometimes that horrifies people;
sometimes it amuses them. I much prefer the latter. You have a lovely laugh,
Jade. Never be afraid to use it.”

Jade was dazzled. Not by the beautiful garden. Or the green
lawns that seemed to go on forever. No, Callie Flynn left Jade breathless. A
true movie star in an era when that distinction was becoming rarer and rarer
There was a glow that seemed to beam from beneath her skin. Callie wore little
makeup; her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun. She wore a loose sundress
the color of cornflowers and no shoes. She was the most beautiful woman Jade
had ever seen.

“Sit.”

Jade took the chair opposite Callie, setting her purse on
the large, glass-top table.

“Would you like some lemonade?” Callie asked.
“I know I invited you to afternoon tea, but it is such a lovely, warm day,
I thought something cold would be nice. I also have iced tea, green in
deference of my husband’s recent health kick.”

“Lemonade sounds wonderful.”

Callie beamed at Jade’s choice. “I never know when my
sons might stop by. Lemonade is Garrett’s favorite so I keep a pitcher
handy.”

Jade was grateful she didn’t have a mouthful of liquid. The
sudden mention of Garrett was such a surprise she was afraid she would have
spewed it all over his mother.

“Are you expecting him, or any of them, this
afternoon?”

“Don’t worry,” Callie said, patting Jade’s hand.
“My boys are sweethearts. No need to be nervous.”

Jade sighed. She wasn’t nervous, at least not for the reason
Callie thought. The possibility of seeing Garrett here at his parents’ home
hadn’t occurred to Jade. It would be awkward if he suddenly appeared. To say
the least.

“These are the best lemon cookies ever made. Please,
help yourself.”

What was it about the Landis family that made them want
to feed her
? Jade couldn’t help smiling at the thought.

“There you go,” Callie said with obvious
satisfaction when Jade chose not one but two cookies from the plate. “In
less than ten minutes, we’ve shared a laugh, a beverage, and some food. We are
well on our way to becoming good friends.”

Jade froze for a moment, a cookie halfway to her mouth.
Friends? Callie Flynn wanted to be friends? With her?

“Oh, dear,” Callie smiled ruefully. “I’m making
a hash out of this whole thing.” She patted Jade’s hand reassuringly.
“I forget that you haven’t been living in my brain, sharing my
thoughts.”

“That would be…” Jade searched for the word. One
that wouldn’t be too insulting. “Unsettling.” It seemed like a good
choice.
And
accurate.

“Believe me. No one wants to share my brain. Scattered
would be putting it mildly.”

When Callie’s clear, silver gaze met hers, Jade almost
gasped. Garrett’s eyes. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Those eyes were world
famous. Even though she hadn’t seen
his
in anything but the glow of the
moon and the flicker of candlelight, the changeable color was unmistakable.

“Are you all right?” Callie asked with concern.

“I’m sorry,” Jade said. “This was a bad idea.
I’m not very good one on one. I do much better in crowds where I’m not expected
to do anything but make small talk.”

Except with Garrett
. Jade groaned silently.
Stop
thinking about him
before you blurt out something highly inappropriate.

“When you think about it, small talk is an art form.
Finding the proper balance. Interested yet not too personal. I never mastered
the knack of it.”

“Because you have personality.” Jade shook her
head. “Small talk isn’t an art form. It’s boring.
I’m
boring.”

“Oh, Jade…”

“No,” Jade went on quickly. She hated the sympathy
she heard in Callie’s voice. It wasn’t what she wanted. “How pathetic did
that sound? I meant I
was
boring. When the most interesting thing to
ever happen to you is, well, you know. How sad is that?”

The words hung between them. The most interesting thing to
happen to Jade was something you didn’t speak about with casual acquaintances.
An abusive husband who tried to kill you was
not
afternoon tea
conversation.

“It is sad,” Callie said firmly. “It’s a
fact, Jade. Still, it doesn’t make
you
sad.
Or
pathetic. It makes
you a survivor.”

“I am that,” Jade agreed with a shrug. “Not
that I had anything to do with it. Credit my doctors, not me.”

“Yes,” Callie nodded. “They saved the
physical you. What about your spirit? Your soul? I don’t see a quitter, Jade.
Though no one would blame you if you had rolled up in a ball for a few months —
or years.”

“I wanted to,” Jade admitted.

Those first few weeks after she was home from the hospital
were some of the hardest of Jade’s life. She was in pain. The nurse her father
hired gave her pills every few hours. They were strong. Too strong. Instead of
simply alleviating the pain, they knocked her out. She lost large blocks of
time. It frightened her to wake up groggy, only to realize it was no longer
Tuesday morning but instead, Wednesday afternoon. Soon, Jade started slipping
the pills under her tongue instead of swallowing. When she was alone, she
flushed them down the toilet. She could handle the pain if it meant keeping her
senses about her.

“Good for you.”

Callie’s fist pump made Jade laugh. She hadn’t planned on
sharing any of that. The only other person who knew was Garrett. Another trait
mother and son shared. The ability to draw things out of Jade without making
her feel embarrassed or self-conscience.

“It was your first step, wasn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Jade asked with a confused
frown.

“You decided to take your life back,” Callie
explained. “One step, Jade. That’s all it takes. Since then, how many more
have you taken?”

Jade didn’t know how it happened. Before she knew it, she
was telling Callie things — private things. Most of it Garrett knew. Now, so
did his mother.