The walk in the cold, still night air with pinpoint stars seeming to pierce the midnight blue sky had been exhilarating-Anne had been able to forget almost all her misgivings with her hand held in Webb's as he tugged her along with him. Laughing for no real reason except to see how the steam from her breath etched itself against the stillness of the air. The slightest brush of his shoulder against her bringing back the memory of his body-naked, arrogant, claiming hers, and making her feel at last for herself everything she had read or heard about feeling.
He had made love to her again, the cognac warming her within while his lips and his hands made her flesh bum every-where they touched. And it had happened again, the starburst of ecstasy starting from deep inside to send its fire through every nerve in her body while the only reality was the piston-driving strength and hardness of his body possessing hers.
Afterwards... Why did there have to be an afterwards,with all of its doubts and fears?
Maybe it was the overheated hotel lobby with its chandeliers and the curious looks from the uniformed clerks behind the old-fashioned mahogany desk. And her own ingrained, instinctive shrinking as her mind took over from her senses.
Webb had wanted to skip the party. He'd wanted her to have dinner with him in his room; he'd wanted her. And that was how the argument had erupted as they stood before the door to his room.
"But I did promise Carol. And then you told Harris. Webb, why can't you come too?
Just for a little while .. ."
"Just to make a polite goddamned appearance? Hell no, baby. I'm not in the mood.
But if you're anxious to make the party scene and have fun with all your friends, you go right on ahead, huh? Hurry along-you don't want to keep good old Harris waiting, do you?"
"You want everything your own way, don't you?" she had stormed at him, surprising herself with her own vehemence, "You won't give an inch, and yet you want me ..."
For an instant, his face had turned somber, looking down at her.
"That's right. I want you, Annie. But not in a crowd. And not enough to put up with that shit." The jerk of his head indicated the light coming from the open door down the hallway.
The calculated cruelty of his last words only stiffened her determination not to let herself be dominated by his will. If he had only been reasonable ... but he hadn't. He had been the one to drop the shutter between them, patting her face lightly as if it didn't matter to him one way or another.
"Run along then, Annie. Have fun. And maybe I'll see you around, huh?" Then his door had closed in her face. End of chapter, end of episode.
Harris was holding her arm and leading her into the hot, overcrowded room, talking all the time as he did.
"I told Carol I'd bring you along as soon as you arrived, Anne. She's dying to know how that last scene went. Her last ex-husband turned up unexpectedly; that's him talking to her now, the tall sandy-haired man wearing that absurd-looking string tie.
He wants to try for a reconciliation, although there's no hope of that! Carol's outgrown him, I think. And she can handle him-he's acting almost decently civilized for a change, in spite of the nasty jealous scenes he used to put her through while they were still married." Switching from one subject to another with hardly a pause, Harris said softly, "I suppose that's why I've never married. Jealousy is pointless and passe.
I'm a romantic at heart, and I've always hoped to find a woman I didn't need to be jealous of. Oh-there's the mayor. I can see he recognizes you. Listen-no one knows, Anne, so there's no need to be nervous. I can feel your arm tensing up ... But remember that you're merely one of Carol's old school friends-you two got in touch, and she invited you to watch the play and join her here afterwards. Do feel free to relax. It's a good thing Webb didn't accompany you here, in a way. Knowing Webb
..."
How well did he know Webb? Did anyone really know what Webb was like? If she was to go by Harris, or even Carol, by now Webb must have put her out of his mind.
And yet it had been she who had drawn back! She hugged that thought to herself, even if it didn't give her any satisfaction at this moment.
"Darling!" Carol said reproachfully. "Where on earth have you been?" Carol's theatrical training made her emphasize certain words when she spoke. "I was hoping you hadn't changed your mind-you don't know how I'd been looking forward to having a little girl-talk with you-it's been such ages, hasn't it?"
Tonight, Carol was wearing a stunning Halston creation that showed off her figure and her justly famous breasts. She introduced Anne to Ted Grady very smoothly and without any embarrassment. "This is Ted, my ex. He's a very sweet man, but of course I've always been a bitch to live with, haven't I , darling?"
Grady mumbled something, obviously still concentrating on Carol, and Anne felt herself smile tightly, hoping her smile didn't look too much like a grimace.
"Anne-we've got to squeeze in some time together. But there are so many people I haven't even talked to yet, so I'll get that over with first, and in the meantime, Harris will help you circulate and get you something to eat, won't you, Harris? Ted, you're going to have to circulate too. And no jealous scenes, sweetie, or you'll have to leave."
How easily Carol handles everything! Will I ever learn, Anne wondered, letting Harris lead her on with her smile so fixed upon her face so that her lips actually ached.
Fortunately, no one seemed to notice. The local people there were polite, their voices tactfully incurious as to the reason for her presence there, although they all inquired politely after her health and her father's.
"And how's your fat lazy, Mrs. Hyatt? When will he be coming home again?" They did not question why she was here, with "the theater people," but their veiled looks were curious all the same. The sole representative of the Deepwood News did not question or approach her at all.
Harris introduced her to a few members of the cast whose names or faces were vaguely recognizable. A young, brown-haired man called Tony, who had been in that first scene she had watched that morning; an older woman, a character actress who had once been a star in her own right; and the director, Michael Fenwick, quietly dressed in a dark suit and very polite now, acting as if he was meeting her for the first time.
"I think you ought to have something to eat, Anne." Phelps led her to a buffet and began filling her plate without waiting for her reply. He also got her a drink-a very dry martini-and found her a chair to sit on. Why was Harris being so pointedly nice?
Anne forced herself to take a bite of cold turkey, while Harris, with a murmured "You don't mind, do you love?" sat himself on the arm of her chair.
God, it was stifling hot in here. And the music was far too loud. What was she doing here, when she should be in that room down the hall? Everything that had happened before seemed unreal, a half-forgotten fantasy. But every nerve in her body strained towards that closed door down the hall, all the pride and the logic that had brought her here seemed suddenly unimportant in the face of what she wanted, had really wanted.
The martini tasted much better than the cold food. Anne swallowed all of hers, and accepted another glass from a passing waiter.
"It won't help you to get yourself drunk," Harris Phelps said quietly, a peculiarly controlled tone to his voice. She looked up at him, annoyed, but he went on, putting a hand on her arm for emphasis, "You have a very transparent face, my dear. And you must learn, like me, not to let your feelings show too openly. Webb Carnahan isn't worth your regrets. I'm not asking what happened between you, but you must know he isn't your type. He's an amoral animal who's far too used to taking what he wants, and then ... But you're different, Anne. You've got both birth and breeding, and you haven't been exposed to his kind. It's understandable, of course, that you would be intrigued by him. I was over-protected too, and I learned how to fight my way out of the cage I was in, just as you will, Anne. Only, if you must experiment, start with your own kind. Stay away from the barracudas."
Harris had surprised her. Anne found herself studying him once again. What did she really know about him? He was very rich, very powerful. A dilettante who could afford to indulge his whims by dabbling in theater and movies. Why was he acting so protectively towards her? She didn't need protecting. She'd had enough of that!
"Honestly, Harris, I ..."
He shook his head, this time giving her a slight smile. "I know; how well I know, Anne!
You must be tired of warnings and little lectures like the one I've just been giving you.
I don't blame you for it. I too had my share while I was growing up. It was only afterwards that I learned for myself what my father was trying to warn me against. It's hard not to be able to trust other people, isn't it? To become cynical enough to wonder, every time you make a new acquaintance, what he might really want from you; or whether he would like you just as well if you weren't filthy rich. It's a rather lonely existence, isn't it? And
whether you like my saying so or not, there's a certain air of vulnerability about you, Anne. I wouldn't want to see you hurt."
"What are you two doing, hiding away here in a corner? Anne, sweetie, don't you like the food? Your plate looks as if you haven't touched a thing on it!" Carol's voice sounded reproachful, but her bright emerald eyes were curious as her gaze flashed from one to the other. "You're supposed to circulate! Harris darling, I thought I could count on you to see that Anne meets everyone. She needs to meet people, don't you, pet? And I've been dying to ask you how it went tonight. Was Webb very mad?
Where is he, anyhow? The bastard-did Harris tell you about the scene Tanya tried to make? Although Harris is very good at handling things like that, thank God! And with Ted turning up, trying to get something on me so he won't have to pay up on our marriage settlement ... ugh! Harris- he can't get away with that crap, can he? You'll have to give me the name of that clever attorney of yours."
It was amazing how quickly Carol could switch from one subject to another, and all without stopping to draw breath.
"I think you want to talk alone with Anne," Harris commented dryly, contriving to let his fingers caress Anne's arm as he rose to his feet. With Carol's coming he had changed too, his manner more brisk and businesslike as he melted into his "Harris Phelps, Producer" role. "Don't worry, Carol, I think Grady's making noises because he's still jealous and wants to get you back. If I find an opportunity I'll try to have a little talk with him. And if he does get difficult I'll see that you're well represented."
"Well .. ." Carol looked slightly worried. "I would appreciate your keeping Ted out of my hair. He's always been so jealous it was almost paranoid, and there were a few times he really scared me, you know, with all his threats. He used to say that if he couldn't have me no one else would. And I was almost paranoid by the time I walked out on him!"
The next moment Carol's brilliant, world-famous smile flashed as she reached out for Anne's hand.
"Come on, darling! Let's escape into my bedroom for a little girl-talk, shall we? Harris will look after the mob for a little while."
It was comparatively quiet in Carol's untidy bedroom, with coats and wraps littering her bed; Carol had to clear some space on it before she could sit down. The party noises filtered faintly through the door that Carol had pushed shut, and every chair was draped with clothes-obviously discarded while Carol was deciding what to wear tonight.
It was amazing, Anne thought, trying to postpone the moment of Carol's inevitable questions, that she didn't bring along a maid to keep things picked up.
Echoing her thoughts Carol said, "I always seem to make such a bloody mess! But then, I do like my privacy, and if you tip hotel maids enough they'll even pack for you.
Darling, why on earth don't you sit down? Here, on the bed by me. Or you can shove that silly gown onto the floor if you like; I'll never wear it again!"
Anne didn't quite understand why she felt defensive, but she did. She shrugged, perching herself on the edge of the dresser. "This is fine. I haven't been doing my share of standing about all evening. And I feel guilty about dragging you off from the rest of your guests."
"Anne, do stop being so damned evasiveI You make me wonder, especially since you took so long getting here! Webb- exactly what did he do? What did he say when he found out it wasn't me but you? Did he-"
"He didn't blow his lines, if that's what you mean." Anne was surprised that her voice could sound so dry and even. "But he was mad, and I had a lot of explanations to make."
"For over an hour, in my dressing room-with the door locked?" Carol's elevated eyebrows gave the lie to her exaggeratedly patient tone of voice, and Anne felt herself tense. "Darling-theater people gossip, you know! And poor Harris was almost frantic. He had to get Tanya away from there, or you might have had a really ugly scene to contend with, and I don't think you've had experience with that sort of thing.
I persuaded him to try calling you instead of going back there to batter down the door or something equally dramatic. I think Harris has developed quite a tendresse for you, which isn't like him at all!"
"I like Harris too-he's been very nice." Fight back, Anne, an inner voice told her. "But honestly, Carol, this-this farce tonight was your idea, after all, and I was the one left to cope with Webb Carnahan and his anger-which was really quite justified, you'll have to admit! Why all the concern, suddenly? Did you think I couldn't take care of myself?"
Carol's first reaction of surprise made Anne feel good. "Touche, sweetie! And hooray for you, if you managed to keep Webb in line. It's just that I happen to know dear Webb very well-too well, in fact. And it would be just the dirty, low-down kind of thing he'd do, just to get even with me, to try to ..."
"To try to-what?" Anne hoped her voice still sounded steady, and that Carol wouldn't notice how tightly her fingers gripped onto the edge of the dresser. She didn't like the way Carol and Harris between them had begun to make her feel.