Read Hollywood Princess Online
Authors: Dana Aynn Levin
Hollywood Princess (44 page)
Danny might not have directly told me what I wanted to hear, but his words and actions since we’d left Donnelly were the functional equivalents. Weren’t they? I wanted to think they were. Maybe, just maybe, I could finally relax.
“Why do we need a bank account?” I asked trying to sound nonchalant.
“Elizabeth, I want it. It’s important for me to take care of everything while I’m away. You’re my responsibility, baby.”
Danny’s responsibility? I grinned, turning to gushy-eyed mush.
The banker began inputting our personal information. I was giggly when I signed Elizabeth J. Jacobs in the line beneath where Daniel M. Newman had signed first. I couldn’t find the words to describe how loved I felt.
“I have another checking account,” Danny told the banker. “Can you please tell me the balance? I’m going to transfer funds from it.”
The banker let Danny glance at her computer screen, careful not to let me see. I smirked. Danny and I had no secrets.
“I have over $257,000?” Danny said to himself in surprise. “Let’s transfer $25,000 to the new account,” he directed the banker.
“Why do you have over $250,000 in a checking account?” I asked disapprovingly.
A sum of that magnitude should be in an interest bearing account. I raised an eyebrow, bemused. Danny had an A in Economics and Ellen had once been a banker. This was so elementary; even I knew it was wrong!
“Pretty stupid,” Danny admitted with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t realize. It’s trust income. The trust department automatically deposits it every month.”
“I have to wait until I’m twenty-one,” I complained.
“Sorry, babe. Guess your folks want to protect their innocent little girl from sweet-talking charmers who might take advantage.”
I rolled my eyes. “I can take care of myself just fine,” I scowled.
“Hey, I know you can. Baby, you’re nobody’s fool.”
I smiled. “Thank you for the vote of confidence.”
How ironic. My parents had been overly protective when they established my trust, and whom did I end up with? A man oblivious of the balance in his checking account who was generously sharing it with me.
I was over my pout. “It’s nice not to have to worry and neither do you.”
“Neither do I,” Danny echoed. “You’re right, Eli. I shouldn’t keep this much in a checking account. When we get home I’ll call my trust officer and tell her to reinvest any new income for at least the next six months.”
“I’ll need your driver’s licenses,” the banker curtly interrupted.
Danny took his wallet from his rear pants pocket and I opened my purse. We handed the woman our licenses. She glanced at them and then looked directly at Danny.
“You’re very young. Do your parents approve?”
“It’s my account. I can do whatever I want,” Danny answered firmly.
“You are aware, with a joint account you both have equal access to the funds without the permission of the other.”
The implication was clear. Had the banker inquired regarding my accounts, she would have changed her tune and fast.
I arrogantly raised my chin. Danny could tell by my narrowed eyes and scornful expression that I was moments from an ugly “do you know who I am” exchange with this woman. How dare she imply that I was some trashy gold-digger.
Danny met the banker’s glance and held it. Firmly, without wavering, he answered her accusation.
“Yes, I’m fully aware. On second thought, I’ll transfer $50,000.”
The banker’s jaw dropped, flustered by Danny’s defiance. I knew she was thinking, “Spoiled rich boy. I hope she takes all your money.”
Instead she gathered the account application and our licenses and said, “I’ll be right back.” She rose and took the materials to the teller’s cage.
With the banker gone, I relaxed. “You told her,” I laughed.
“I did, didn’t I?” Danny chuckled.
“You don’t have to do this.”
Danny took my hands. He swiveled in the chair to directly face me. Danny’s eyes were twinkling, but his face was filled with complex emotions.
“E, you don’t need the money, but I like taking care of you. When I’m with you I never let you pay for anything.”
“You’re very old-fashioned that way. It’s sweet.”
“Think of this as a very long extension of me. If it’s purchased north of Topanga, use this account. Hell, I don’t care. Use it south of Topanga too. I love you.”
“I want to take care of you too. How do I do that while you’re away?”
“Baby, you take care of me every day. You don’t even realize it. When we’re apart, just knowing we’re together, Eli, I’m a better man because of you. That’s how you take care of me.”
My heart melted. A tear pricked my eye.
The Williams-Sonoma on Beverly Drive contains everything you need for your kitchen and even things you don’t yet know you need. Entering through the heavy glass doors is as exciting for adults as FAO Schwarz is for children.
While you salivate at the displays, and inhale deeply what the test kitchen has whipped up, an overwhelming feeling that everything in your own kitchen that hasn’t been purchased in the last six months is antiquated overtakes you. Having a kitchen that actually was antiquated, and armed with Danny’s Platinum Card, we needed massive self-control not to purchase everything.
I reminded myself that only the basics were necessary. Danny and I would barely be in this house until next summer. Williams-Sonoma would have new goodies by then!
Danny and I left the store with a stainless steel toaster designed for bagels, a coffee/espresso maker, mixing bowls, a waffle iron, two cookbooks, and a set of German knives. We’d also purchased a drawer’s worth of small gadgets and implements, one or two of whose functions I was not certain of, but I loved their lime-colored plastic handles.
“Tell me again why we didn’t valet the car?” I complained as we waited for the elevator in the parking structure.
My shopping bags were heavy. Danny couldn’t help me either. He was carrying the larger items. I let the bags slide to the ground, ready to grab again when the elevator doors opened.
Danny laughed, “Mental lapse, I guess.”
The elevator doors finally opened. I grabbed the bags by their handles.
“Elizabeth?” A man’s voice forced my attention upward.
“Zac!” I exclaimed in delight. “Are you stalking me?” I laughed. “Every time I’m in Beverly Hills I run into you.”
The elevator doors closed behind us. We’d catch another.
“Zac! Great to see you!” Danny released his packages, and the two friends embraced.
“Man, how have you been?”
“Great, Zac. How’s Harvard?”
“Excellent. When did you get home?
“We got home …when did we get home, Eli?”
I considered his question. “Yesterday,” I responded, surprised by my answer.
“Only yesterday? We’ve been so busy. It feels like longer.”
Zac noticed the Williams-Sonoma bags. “Are you going to some weddings?”
“No. We’re stocking our house,” Danny answered.
“Your house?” Danny’s response surprised Zac.
“Eli and I are living at the beach house until I leave for Vancouver to work with Dad.”
“Who’s his star?’
“Vanessa Rogers,” Danny answered, unimpressed.
“Vanessa Rogers! Whoa!” Zac exclaimed. “Can Steve hire me? She’s hot.”
“I hear she’s a bitch. And Zac, she’s married.”
“Not anymore.” Danny and Zac gaped at me as one. They had forgotten I was there.
“E, how do you know this?” Danny asked.
“It was all over the web. Vanessa’s divorce was finalized in April. She said she was quote, ‘excited to work with Steven Newman this summer’ unquote. You boys really need to do a better job of keeping up.”
Danny rolled his eyes.
“You better warn Ellen,” Zac teased. “Vanessa’s ex was married when they met.”
“Zac! I’m sure Steve considers Vanessa nothing more than a highly-paid employee.”
“Eli’s right. Dad wouldn’t cheat on Mom,” Danny stated emphatically. “How’s Gibby?” Danny asked Zac to change the subject.
“So far, so good. Dad’s still clean. He’s on tour most of the summer. I’m joining him.”
“Babysitting?” Danny asked.
“Sort of. I’m turning it into an independent study on the psychological and sociological effects of touring.”
“Gibby doesn’t suspect?” I asked.
“Dad thinks it’s cool. He’s telling everyone to cooperate because it’s for Harvard. To Dad, Harvard means it must be important.”
“Maybe next summer you can conduct a study of people who go on location,” I said with a smile that only Zac saw.
“Funny, Eli.” Danny answered. “How about a study of the significant others who are left at home?”
Zac groaned. “I’d like to stay and mediate, but I have a dentist appointment.”
“That sucks for you,” Danny answered. “If you’re not doing anything later, why don’t you come to our house for dinner? Happy hour begins at five.”
Nothing stood in the way of Danny and the Dodgers and we dressed accordingly to show our team spirit. Around my waist I tied a heavyweight blue Dodger sweatshirt and my ponytail poked through the back of my team cap. Danny wore a black t-shirt under his Dodger jersey and his own logo cap.
Friday evening rush hour traffic was heavier than anticipated. It was nearly six-thirty by the time we parked the car, purchased hot dogs and drinks, and found our seats. Our families jointly owned a block of eight season tickets three rows up from the field on the home plate side of the Dodger dugout.
I bit into my kosher dog slathered with yellow mustard. Its beefy juiciness coupled with the heat of the oozing mustard was perfection. I hadn’t had one since last season. I giggled at the memory of bringing Grant Barnes. Attending his first baseball game, he had been clueless. The evening had evolved into a tutorial for the hapless star, all captured on the stadium big screen.
Danny glanced sideways at me, confused by my smirk.
“This is awesome,” I stammered, and I raised my hotdog toward him.
Danny shook his head, perplexed. Better not to mention Grant. While grinning at Danny, I took another bite. He smiled at my deliberateness and then frowned.
“Eli, don’t move,” he said in a stern voice I knew I’d better listen to.
Danny leaned toward me. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he licked mustard off the outside of my left hand up the side of my little finger. I gasped from the electricity. Did he realize how sensuous that was?
Danny smirked. “I didn’t want the mustard to get all over you, babe.”
I blushed deep crimson. “You really have no idea what that did to me.”
Danny laughed, “I know exactly what that did to you. Now finish your hot dog. I want to show you off to the manager.”
I devoured the rest and followed Danny down to the edge of the dugout. The manager was nowhere in sight.
“Hey,” he called to the ballboy, “Give this to the big guy, and thanks.”
Danny handed the ballboy a cream colored Crane card printed with his name and contact information in navy ink. I found it pretentious. Danny rarely used the cards, but he repeatedly told me I should get my own. I hadn’t yet done so.
“Danny!” the Dodger manager greeted him warmly moments later. Then he shook Danny’s hand and clapped him on the back. “Good to see you, son. I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“I was in school in New York.”
The lean, middle-aged manager looked me up and down, but in a fatherly way. Beneath his cap I noticed his receding hairline.
“Who’s this lovely young lady, Danny?” His eyes crinkled as he smiled.
“This is my lady, Elizabeth,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist.
“Good to meet you, Elizabeth. Beautiful girl, Danny. I hope you like baseball.”
Danny laughed. “Eli’s a baseball geek.”
“I am not a geek!”
“She’s too pretty to be a geek.”
“She is at that, but Eli’s still a geek. This girl knows as much about baseball as I do, and she keeps a scorecard.” Danny said proudly.
The manager appraised me with a studious eye. “I’m impressed.”
After saying our good-byes and wishing a victory for the team, Danny led me back to our seats.
“How do you know the manager so well?”
“We met at a team charity event I attend with Dad every year. We missed last year. This year too,” Danny brooded.
Soon, I bent down over the scorecard and began filing in the starting lineups as posted on the stadium scoreboard.
“Eli, you really are doing this?” Danny asked with wonder.
I met Danny’s glance with steely resolve. “I wasn’t going to until you bragged to the manager. Shame. I prefer giving my undivided attention to my date.”
“Damn! I screwed myself, didn’t I?” Danny laughed.
“Next time, keep things between us.”
With Danny’s help, I quickly finished filling in the line-ups.
“Do you want anything from the snack bar?” he asked.
“Maybe later. We just ate. You’re hungry already?”
“I am for you, Elizabeth,” he answered with a devilish grin. How trite! I giggled anyway, feeling the excitement rising to inappropriate levels. Then Danny took my face in his hands and kissed me as though we were alone and not in a crowded stadium.
“Looks like were interrupting.”
A familiar voice caught our attention. Our eyes flew open and our lips broke apart. Danny and I exchanged horrified stares. We were so embarrassed.
“Dad!” I turned my head toward the row behind us.
“Mike, Randi.” Danny stuttered, sounding as awkward as I felt.
“Teddy!” Even my brother was here.
The five of us stood and exchanged warm hugs and kisses. Danny was as pleased as I was for this impromptu reunion.
“We didn’t know you were coming,” I squealed.
“Looks like this is the only way I get to see my daughter,” Dad said.
“We’re seeing you on Thursday for dinner,” I pointed out.
“Can I sit with you, Danny?” Teddy asked.
“Sure, squirt,” he answered.
As the game progressed, Danny may have been keeping his hand around my shoulder, but he was engrossed in conversation with Teddy. My parents seated behind us were the ones on a date.
I struggled to keep my resentment at bay. Danny had spent all year with me. Teddy hadn’t seen him since Aspen. I should be pleased that they got along like brothers. Alas, generosity was not forthcoming. I wanted Danny all to myself.
By the fourth inning I’d had enough of being ignored. Danny’s awareness remained riveted to Teddy. How could my brother possibly be interesting enough to keep Danny’s attention for this long?
As the third Astro was retired, and I recorded it on my scorecard, I stood to put my Dodger sweatshirt on.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” I announced. Then I handed Teddy the scorecard and stub of a pencil. “Here. In case I miss a batter.”
Danny stood to remove his wallet from his back pocket and handed me a fifty.
“While you’re up, can you please bring me a beer? And Cracker Jacks.”
Danny quickly kissed my cheek, as though that made running his errands somehow more palatable. It didn’t.
“Sure.” I resigned myself to the task. “Want anything Teddy?”
“I’ll have a beer too.”
“Teddy…”
“Elizabeth’s no fun,” he said to Danny.
Danny winked at me. He found me lots of fun.
“I’ll have a Coke,” Teddy relented. “And some popcorn. Pleeeeeze.”
I turned to Mom. “Want to come with?” I asked.
“You expect me to wait on line?” Mom answered curtly.
“It’ll be good for your image,” I retorted.
“Randi, while you’re up, can you get me a beer and a Cracker Jack?” Dad asked.
“Can’t you get it, Elizabeth?” Mom implored.
“No. I’m underage and they card everyone here.”
“Oh, bother,” Mom relented. “Let’s go.”
Miranda Jordan was not happy. It wasn’t that she thought she was too important to stand in line, although that might have been part of it. Mom didn’t want to be recognized. Had Dad not requested beer, Mom would not be accompanying me. She didn’t care about Danny’s request.
The line at the concession stand was shorter than expected.
When Mom ordered the two beers, the counter worker smiled and said, “I need to see your ID, Miss Jordan.”
“But you know who I am,” Mom replied indignantly.
“I really am sorry. I have to card everybody. It’s stadium policy.”
Mom removed her license from her purse and showed it to the young woman.
“This is why I didn’t want to come,” Mom grumbled.
After I pocketed the change, and we organized the snacks into two cardboard trays, Mom intentionally slowed her pace.
“I miss you, honey.”
“It’s only for a week.” I tried to sound reassuring. What would she do when I graduated? I certainly wasn’t moving back home.
“No, Elizabeth, it isn’t. You’re more like a visitor. You belong to Danny now.”
“I am not his possession,” I declared.
“That’s not what I meant. He belongs to you too. You belong together. I’ve been watching tonight. Danny may be talking to Teddy, but he doesn’t take his hand off you. It’s like you’re connected.”
“I feel it too,” I agreed.
“Dad and I were like that. My publicist hated it.” Mom laughed at the memory. “She was baffled. What was Miranda Jordan doing with a law student?”
“And twenty-two years later, who’s laughing now?” I giggled.
“Let’s hope you have our track record.”
“If only he didn’t have to go to Vancouver. We’re enjoying the beach too much.”
“Elizabeth,” Mom turned serious, “Danny’s treating you well, I hope?”
“Of course he is.” I frowned, taken aback by the question.
“Don’t take offense, Elizabeth. I’ve always loved Danny like a son. I don’t know how he is as a boyfriend.”
“Absolutely wonderful. Mom, I’m so spoiled. Danny had dozens of roses, and champagne and caviar waiting when we got home.”
Mom smiled, pleased. “Good. I was afraid Danny’s interest might wane, or he’d miss his freedom. I never thought Danny would be interested in you until he was at least thirty.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Danny knows you love his real self, and he doesn’t have to pretend.”
“I think that’s true for both of us.”
We returned to our seats in the midst of a rally. Dad was leaning forward between Teddy and Danny who were also leaning forward. A quick glance at the field told me why. There were Dodgers on first and third, no outs, and the count to the batter was three balls and no strikes.
The one-one tie was about to be blown apart. I sat down carefully, balancing the lopsided tray on my lap. The batter swung and missed. Strike one.
As he stepped out of the batter’s box I whispered to Danny, “Pass this to Teddy.” He reached for Teddy’s Coke and popcorn and passed them along.
Strike two. We needed a clean hit or a walk. A long fly would score one too. The tension mounted. Danny frowned. He looked at me as though something were very wrong. Then he took off my cap and turned it backwards. “Rally cap, babe.”
The batter fouled off the next two pitches. My hands were glued to the cups in the tray, holding them steady. Danny tensely gripped my knee. The pitcher went into his wind-up and unloaded a curve ball that hung, a tantalizing offer to the batter.
Crrrraaaaaack! The sound of the sweet spot connecting with the ball reverberated throughout the stadium.
A thunderous 45,000 person roar erupted as the ball catapulted over the left field fence with the ferocity of a rocket. Dodgers 4, Astros 1!
Danny grabbed my face and brusquely kissed me. With the tray on my lap, I couldn’t do anything but pray nothing spilled.
There were still no outs, and the Astros yanked their starting pitcher. This allowed a short respite. Danny took his beer and Cracker Jack from the tray. Finally, I could eat my ice cream. I loved the malted flavored ice cream cups that I never ate anywhere but at Dodger Stadium.
Danny took a couple gulps of beer. “Thanks, baby. I’ve missed you. I’ve been talking to Teddy too much.”
“It’s okay.” I smiled, pleased with his acknowledgment. “You haven’t seen Teddy since January.”
“Thanks.” Danny’s lips brushed against mine. “I love you.”
Then Danny kissed me again, longer and deeper. I was no longer pissed at all the time he had spent with my brother.
Final score: Dodgers 7, Astros 2; a happy ending for the Jacobs-Newman clan.
After lingering at our seats to let the crowds thin out, Danny glanced at the scoreboard clock. “E, we should go. Early start tomorrow.”
“Danny told Grandma Slade we’d be there before lunch,” I explained.
Danny hugged me around my shoulders, his arms wrapped like a human pashmina. My parent’s lack of reaction pleased me. They were no longer uncomfortable with our affectionate displays.
“Elizabeth, you’ll like Naomi,” Dad said. “Danny’s grandmother is a very sharp woman, and she appreciates other sharp women.”
“That’s why she’ll love Eli,” Danny answered, proudly kissing my head.
“I hope I live up to your expectations,” I fretted.
“When do I get to spend time with my girl? You’ve been monopolizing her Danny,” Dad said. He was smiling, so we knew he was teasing.
“I’m all yours a week from Monday,” I replied.
Everyone quieted. Biting my lower lip and blinking hard did not prevent the tears I had hoped to contain.
