Hollywood Ever After (10 page)

“I obviously didn’t make the sandwiches, your mom did.” Daniel’s voice was teasing, playful.

“I know. I’ll talk to her.”

He sighed. “He’ll learn to eat them with the crust. That’s ridiculous.”

“Is Mom there?” I knew she would be. She’d never leave the kids alone with him.

“She and Mrs. Witt are here making cookies for Will’s class. I’ve been sitting at the kitchen table with Nat doing her math.” He sounded calm. “Why? Is there a problem?”

I kept my voice as neutral as possible. “No, no problem. Thanks for helping.”

“Hold on, I’m going into the office so we can talk.” There was silence for a moment, followed by the sound of a closing door. “I’ll be in India through the kids’ Spring Break. Not that it messes up any family vacation plans. But I thought you should know.”

“Okay.”

“So you’re meeting celebrities? Did you see the article? I don’t want to sound like a jerk, and I know that it’s just tabloid stuff, but…”

“What article?”

“About this Wiley kid. And there’s this photo of you with him.” His laughter sounded forced. “I know it’s BS, but you need to be more aware of potential situations, for the kids’ sake at least.” He bit out the last few words.

Anxiety surged through me. “What did the article say?”

His tone was sharp. “It implied you were sleeping with him.”

“Everyone will get a good laugh over that.”

“Natalie seems to think it’s cool that you’re being linked to this…boy. I don’t know what to say to that.” He let out his breath suddenly, sighing. “But I don’t want her to get any grief over this.”

“Why would she?”

“Because it looks like you’re throwing yourself at someone who’s closer to our daughter’s age, Claire. It looks pathetic. Come on, you know the way people talk—about everything. Don’t play dumb.”

I spoke softly. “It was a party…and he was there.” A breeze caught my curls, blowing them forward. I reached up, pushing them behind my shoulders, when the scar on my wrist caught my eye. A scar he’d caused. It ran from my elbow to my wrist. I’d had to endure six months of therapy in the hopes that there wouldn’t be any permanent nerve damage to my hand. I was lucky. It had healed just fine.

Even when the scars on my heart completely healed and faded, the scars on my body would remain.

“Sure. I guess it’s only fair. I mean, you want me to get jealous? It worked. But not because you’re sleeping with him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You forget I know you, Claire. You’re not the fling type. Don’t take this the wrong way, but why would he be interested in
you?
I mean it’s Hollywood.” He sounded confident. “If you’re out to make me jealous, then set your sights a little lower. And with a little less publicity, okay?”

I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t about to tell him I’d had the best sex I’d ever had, no matter how tempting it might be. He did have a point. Josh being interested in me was kind of ridiculous.

“It’s time to get back to normal, Claire. You’ve punished me long enough. I’m ready to come home. You know that’s what I want. I haven’t kept it a secret or anything. Things will be good again.”

“Daniel…” I started. My head popped up and I stared blindly into the dark night.

“I miss you.” He sighed. “When I saw you in that picture, it blew me away. I was jealous because of the look on your face. You looked so happy. I miss you being happy.”

“We can’t make each other happy. And this isn’t a conversation we need to have anymore.”

At least he was predictable. If I did something unfamiliar, made a change, he tried to reel me back in. As long as I was alone and miserable, he was happy. If it looked like I was moving on, he couldn’t handle it. I’d learned that shutting him down firmly was the only option.

“We’ll have dinner when I get back from India.” It was as if I hadn’t spoken. “I still love you, Claire. And I want you.”

“I…I have to go.” I turned off my phone, welcoming the air conditioning that greeted me as I slipped back inside the house. I dropped the phone in the chair, the tremor in my hand surprising me. My stomach twisted and my hands were clammy.

I gulped down the rest of my wine, relaxing a little as it warmed me from the inside. Shannon and Josh were both waiting, both looking at me. I forced a smile onto my face.

“This is what has him all worked up, Claire.” Shannon handed me her laptop.

Staring back at me was a picture of us on the red carpet. It was mostly my bare back, my face in profile. Josh had just caught me and was in the process of releasing me. If you didn’t know I’d been falling mere seconds before, it did look like we were in a casual embrace.

But his face…his face made the picture provocative. He was looking at me the way he looked at me: intense, curious, and interested. His hand was on my back, a half-smile on his face.

The caption beneath read:
Hollywood star Josh Wiley with an industry unknown, enjoying each other on the red carpet. The two later attended the movie premiere party. It’s rumored that both stayed overnight at the Hotel Del Mar, the site of the event.

I handed the computer back to Shannon. “Daniel didn’t like that there was something publically suggested. He was worried about the kids and press.”

“Yeah, the ER trips from your ‘accidents’ were such a breeze to explain away,” Shannon bit out.

I stared at Shannon, unable to hide my irritation at her remark.

“Are you okay, Claire?” Josh interjected softly.

I let my eyes search his face, but tore them away before I could get lost in his hazel gaze. I nodded.

Shannon sighed. “Okay, okay. I’m just wondering when he gets to stop having a say over you.”

“Maybe we should give Claire a moment?” Josh’s jaw hardened and he regarded Shannon sternly.

“Thanks,” I mumbled as I made my escape to the bathroom. I closed the door and leaned back against it briefly.

I stared at myself in the mirror, running a hand over my face and neck. The tension was there like always following any conversation with Daniel. It wasn’t too bad. I wasn’t throwing up or crying like I used to. Someday, I knew, talking to him wouldn’t affect me at all.

This was not that day.

I sighed.

Things had gotten more than a little out of hand. I hated arguing, especially with Shannon. I knew she had only the best of intentions, as misguided as they were.

And Josh… It was more than chemistry between us. I enjoyed talking to him, spending time with him. I regarded myself in the mirror, shaking my head at the telling flush that flooded my cheeks. My blue eyes were wide, sparkling.

Considering the conversation I’d just had with my ex-husband, I looked pretty peaceful and happy.

How ridiculous to have a
crush
at my age.

I walked back into the sitting room to find Josh lying across the couch, reading.

“Okay.” I sat on the couch at his feet. “If you still want to share, bring on the scripts.”

Josh sat up and threw a script to me. “If you insist.”

“I insist.” I looked at the title,
Speed Demon
, and arched an eyebrow at him.

“I didn’t write it.” He caught my hand, pulling me against his side with a sigh. “All right?” he whispered against my hair.

“Sorry you had to sit through all of that.” I shot him an apologetic smile, relaxing against him.

He looked down at me. “Why?”

“Somehow I doubt you’d have come back if you’d known this kind of drama was waiting.”

He grew serious, his voice thick as he spoke. “It doesn’t change anything.”

I stared at him, amazed.

He touched my face. “I’m sorry if my being here made it more difficult for you.”

Shannon walked through the room, carrying a towering pastry concoction covered with whipped cream. “We’re having dessert first tonight.” She placed the cake on the table in front of me. “We could sing, but you know I can’t carry a tune.”

I shook my head. “You don’t have to, Shannon. You didn’t have to do this…”

“It’s your birthday, for Christ’s sake. I wanted to.”

“We have to sing, Shannon,” Josh argued, “or it doesn’t count. Come on, be a good sport.”

And they did. Shannon was mortified, red-faced and giggling, while Josh sang loudly and intentionally off-key.

I smiled at them both. “I have to say, this is the most…unique birthday I’ve ever had.”

Shannon rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Food will be here soon, so let’s eat this before we ruin the whole dessert first thing. And you might as well hand me one.” She indicated one of the scripts with a cream-covered finger.

We ate the cake in companionable silence, the remaining blobs of crème and raspberries vanishing as a testament to its sheer deliciousness. In the end, it was completely devoured while the Chinese food was barely touched.

I tried to pay attention to the script I was reading but fell asleep fifteen pages into it. I didn’t mean to, but I had no interest in watching a movie about specially engineered super-fast cars, token sex scenes, racing, and other done-to-death themes, let alone read about it.

I woke up in the bedroom and glanced at the clock; it was three am. I turned over, briefly considered getting up…before drifting off again.

***

“I’ll have an egg-white omelet and a grapefruit half.” I smiled at the waitress and took a sip of my very black coffee.

The sun filtered through the trees that lined the courtyard of the cafe. It was bright and sunny, the lightest breeze blowing my curls out of my face. It was delightful, especially considering the temperature was in the thirties back home.

“That sounds vile.” Shannon closed her menu, stating, “I want the crepes, please.”

The waitress nodded and moved on.

Shannon swept the diners with steady eyes then gave me her full attention. "This is my favorite place for breakfast. They have flaky croissants that are sinful, and scones and chocolate pastries…” Her eyes half closed in thought as she considered her favorites.

“Sounds tempting.”

“How do you manage without really
eating
? No french fries, bread, cake, pasta? You’re cutting out the soul food.”

“I eat those things. I ate my fair share last night, didn’t I?” I shrugged.

“I don’t care if you are all sexy and sleek. I’ll take a chocolate raspberry trifle over sex every time.”

I rolled my eyes. “Then you’re not doing it right,” I teased. “How late were you up?”

“I turned in about three-thirty. I’m not sure when Josh left.” She shook her head. “I finished one script and tried to read the one Josh gave you to read. I see why you passed out.”

“It was awful.” I was very deliberately keeping Josh out of my mind. When I woke up, I had been in my bed, covered. He’d put a note on the pillow next to me that read
Wish I were here
. I sincerely regretted not waking up to say goodbye to him.

I would not think of his hazel eyes, or crazy hair, or his long fingers and strong hands. There was a disturbingly real ache in my heart.

“What do you want to do today? I took the whole day off, so let’s have fun!”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. I’m up for anything.”

“Good. We do have a dinner reservation tonight at this very fancy new seafood restaurant. I thought it might be fun to go ogle the rich and famous. Until then, we have some serious shopping to do.” She laughed as my face fell.

Once I gave over to the idea of playing human Barbie doll, I had fun. After years of dressing to hide bruises, showing skin made me nervous. I stood in front of a mirror, forcing myself to become more accustomed to “me” while Shannon filled the gaps in my wardrobe. Several shopping bags later, we headed home for an early evening walk along the beach.

Shannon took a conference call when we got home, giving me a few minutes to poke around the house and enjoy the quiet.

The contract was still sitting there on the end table. I circled it, glancing out the back window at the beach below. Then I avoided it as I walked into the kitchen to get some water. I lingered, finding an apple to snack on and discovering another reason we’d have to go out for dinner: Shannon’s cupboards were bare.

I considered this and turned back to examine her house. There were no photos, no personal bits and bobs to enlighten visitors about who she was, what her likes or dislikes were. It was a great house, but there was nothing remotely personal about it. Because Shannon was never home.

She had given up on men after a long-term romance with a married man. Since she’d left him, she’d spent all of her time at work. Work was her everything, requiring her constant devotion without any personal complications to throw a wrench into her well-tuned life.

She rarely spoke to her parents, visiting them every couple of years—or longer if she could manage it. She’d always felt they didn’t understand her.

Other than work and her estranged family, Shannon had me. And I couldn’t be mad at her anymore. Because in her own weird way, she was trying to give me what she had: a sense of control in an otherwise uncontrollable world.

I made my way back into the living room, wandering aimlessly. I circled the end table and picked up the contract, not looking at it, just holding it.

I counted on Shannon because she always told me the truth, even when I may not like what she had to say. She’d said my book was brilliant. And she must believe it. Why else would she have done this?

I glanced at the heading of the document and saw my name. I wasn’t sure I was up to being a role model for other victimized women, or that I would be able to handle my life on display for public scrutiny. But I knew I needed to be a stronger role model for my children.

I took a deep breath and began to read. They wanted an answer soon. Mr. Frank Graham had enclosed his business card with his cell phone penciled across the back. He wanted me to call him when I had familiarized myself with their offer. The more I read, the wider my eyes became.

My lungs constricted as I stared at the details. It was a
huge
opportunity. Now I had to decide if it was worth the risk.

***

“So what’re you going to do, sweetie?” my mother asked.