Authors: Jenna Jameson,Hope Tarr
The stuffed peppers she’d cooked and carried over to Liz’s earlier in the week hadn’t stayed down. Liz’s periodic nausea and vomiting was getting worse as the treatments went on. The weight she’d shed over the last week alone was worrisome.
Still, that Cole had remembered her topping preference had her heart feeling fluttery and warm. “Why don’t we do half pepperoni and half mushroom?” she suggested. Mushroom was ordinarily her friend’s favorite, and of all of them, Liz badly needed to eat. “Or is that too spicy?” she asked on afterthought, turning to Liz.
Liz cast a hesitant look toward Cole, and Sarah mentally kicked herself for drawing further attention to her illness. The outing was meant to be a break from the cancer. Instead she’d just reminded everyone of it.
“I’m sure it’s fine, Sarah, but I’ll probably have the house salad,” she added, setting aside her menu.
Packing carbs would have served her better, but catching Cole’s warning look, Sarah swallowed the suggestion. The wordless ease with which they communicated lately sometimes made it hard to remember they weren’t really a couple.
The waiter returned, and Cole placed their orders. While they waited for their food, he kept the conversation lively and flowing. Sarah took part, but mostly she held back, awed by the ease with which he managed to win over Liz and Jonathan in turn. Perhaps his trick, if there was one, was that he treated them with total normalcy. And of course dealing with the public, kids, and their parents with cancer, was his job. Within thirty minutes, he’d hit sports, technology, and current TV and film, all topics certain to appeal to a small boy.
Iron Man
was awesome, he agreed though the first film in the trilogy was definitely the best. Jonathan hadn’t yet seen the inside of the no-longer-so-new Yankee Stadium? Well, they would have to fix that ASAP. Privately Sarah wondered if he meant to stick around to make good on all the promises. For Jonathan’s sake, she hoped so.
By the time the pie arrived, Cole and Jonathan were fast friends. Even Liz was totally won over. Glancing over at her, Sarah saw the telltale sheen in her friend’s sunken eyes. They exchanged silent smiles and looks, and Sarah felt herself tearing up, too. Barring an ironclad guarantee of a permanent remission, Jonathan’s laughter was the best gift anyone could give her.
Cole thwacked the serving spatula against the side of the metal pizza pan, calling the table to attention. “Okay, so we have here sixteen inches of coal-fired, thin-crust pizza.” He gestured to the bubbles blistering the golden brown crust. “Who’s ready to tackle it?”
“W-o-w,” Jonathan exclaimed. Eyes popping, he reached toward the pan.
“Whoa, ladies first,” Cole intervened, catching his hand before he could burn himself. “Liz, you sure you’re okay over there with just the salad?”
Liz nodded toward her heaping platter. “Me and Bugs Bunny are like this,” she said, crossing her index and forefingers.
“Okay, then Sarah, here you go.” He cut the spatula along the perimeters of a slice, and then slipped it off the pan and onto an empty plate. “Mangia, baby,” he added with a goofy grin, passing it over.
Taking it from him, she felt her heart fisting. He was just so . . .
great
, including being a big kid, a side of him she hadn’t seen before but very much liked. “Thanks, this looks great.”
“Jonathan, ready my man? Think you can handle this big slice here in the center?”
“Oh, boy, can I ever!”
“That’s the spirit,” Cole said, dishing up a second slice.
After they’d finished, including boxing up the leftovers for Jonathan to take home, Cole suggested a stopover at nearby Bleecker Playground. Sarah was surprised he’d even heard of it, doubly surprised that he was willing to risk being seen with her in such a prominent public spot. She started to make their excuses, but Liz cut her off. Shooting a look in Jonathan’s direction, she insisted she was totally up for it, that a walk in the warm air would do her good, and that she’d been at risk of climbing the four walls all week. But coming up onto the gated playground, Liz seemed to flag.
“You okay?” Sarah asked, though she obviously wasn’t.
Liz managed a smile. “Just running a little low on steam. Mind if we sit?”
“Of course not,” Sarah said, her gaze going to Cole.
Backtracking toward them, Jonathan hanging at his side, he offered Liz his arm rather than grabbing hold of hers, which Sarah happened to know she hated.
Liz sent him a look of gratitude and laid her thin hand over his forearm. “I was just telling Sarah I need to take five.”
“Take as long as you need,” he said, ferrying them toward the sitting area.
Taking note of the smart phones in nearly every adult’s hand, including those using them to take pictures of their kids, Sarah slipped on her sunglasses before following them over. Wishing she’d thought to bring a hat as well, she joined Liz on one of the few open benches. Looking out onto the sea of strollers, pushed by happy parents and the occasional nanny, envy momentarily eclipsed her anxiety about being recognized. Would that ever be her life?
Seeing them settled, Cole reached for Jonathan’s hand. “I’ll take Jonathan to work off some steam.” He gestured to the sanded play area, trafficked with children awaiting their turn on the crayon-colored equipment. Tots on tricycles circuited the periphery or ran screaming through the sprinklers. “If you need me, holler.”
Jonathan hesitated, shooting a worried look at his mother. “Are you okay, Mom?”
Liz reached out and touched his face. “I’m fine, honey. Go have fun.”
He and Cole headed off toward the play area. Watching them walk away, Jonathan swinging off Cole’s arm as though it was a rope, Sarah felt her eyes misting for the second time that afternoon. She’d assumed Cole liked kids—his foundation worked on their behalf, but it hadn’t occurred to her to consider how much he liked them. If today was any indication, he was a natural parent. Her fuck buddy had more facets than the Hope Diamond, and the true grit to back up all the glitter.
Liz barely waited for them to move out of earshot before breaking forth with, “Jesus, I could tell he was hot from the photos, but he’s even better looking in person!”
“Yeah, I know,” Sarah said around a sigh.
Bone structure like Cole’s should be limited to statues of Greek gods and rare works of art. Ditto for eyes that deep oceanic blue. Seeing him pushing Jonathan on the swings, most people would assume they were father and son.
Liz sighed. “Hot, hung, loaded, and he’s obviously crazy about kids. I don’t use ‘awesome’ all that much, but in Cole’s case it fits.”
It was just what Sarah
didn’t
need to hear. “He does have some . . . flaws, you know.”
The insomnia he sometimes mentioned, the restlessness that invariably led to a massive fucking fest or bingeing on cigarettes—she was pretty sure he not only had PTSD but that his case wasn’t necessarily mild. She wished he’d come around to getting himself some help. The one time she’d suggested he join a veterans’ support group, he’d all but bitten her head off.
But a stiff upper lip taken this far was bullshit. And he was so fucking hard on himself. In Iraq, he’d raced into the flames and carried out his teammate, making him a hero in everyone’s eyes but his. The bare-bones account she’d found online had sounded harrowing. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to have lived it.
Liz looked skeptical. “Don’t tell me he picks his nose?”
“Ugh, of course not! Now that would be a deal buster.”
“So what exactly is your and Cole’s deal?”
“I told you, we have an arrangement. With rules,” Sara added for emphasis.
Liz snorted. “You know what they say, rules are made to be broken, especially the ones that aren’t working anymore.”
Feeling defensive, Sarah folded her arms. “Who says it’s not working?”
Liz sent her a sage smile. “You can’t fool me, Sarah. We were roomies, remember? I saw the way you looked at him at lunch when you didn’t think anyone was watching.”
God, was she that transparent? “So maybe he’s gotten under my skin a little, so what?”
Liz tipped her head, the scarf slightly slipping. “A little? Try a lot.”
“Okay, but if I press for more, I’ll scare him off. At least this way I’ll have incredible sex for the next few months with someone I can trust not to run to the media or make a secret sex video or . . . whatever.”
Reaching up to straighten her scarf, Liz asked, “Wanna trade problems?”
The question had Sarah feeling like a pretty terrible person. Unfolding her arms, she said, “I’m so sorry. What was I thinking?”
Liz covered her hand over Sarah’s. “Do yourself a favor and stop thinking so much. You talked yourself into Danny. Don’t talk yourself out of Cole. Really great guys like him don’t grow on trees, you know.”
Pinned beneath her friend’s knowing gaze, Sarah couldn’t deny any of it. Doing so would be pointless anyway. Liz had known her too long and too well. “Yeah, you’re right, only once he figured out I was Sugar, he was never going to see me as anything but a fuck buddy.”
“Never is a long time,” Liz answered with a faraway look. “And think of how far you’ve come in the last ten years. Sure, you didn’t set out to star in AE films, but once you did, you weren’t just any porn star. You were
the
porn star. Be honest, would you really want to undo all that and go back to being Sarah from Brooklyn?”
“When you put it like that, I guess not,” Sarah admitted.
Had she never ventured out to LA, she’d be doing . . . what now? Working a dead-end day job? Dating some loser or maybe marrying a hard-drinking cop like her dad? Instead she’d had ten years of stardom. Because of it, she had the resources to reinvent herself, to do and be anything she wanted. She would always be “Sugar” in many peoples’ eyes, but she could be a lot more, too.
She thought of her diary-turned-memoir, which she still hadn’t brought up to Liz or the other FATEs. Cole was still the only person who knew. Once he’d realized what she was working on, he’d been so supportive and encouraging, even offering to open his publishing network to her once she was ready. Her fuck buddy had turned out to be not just a great lay but also a first-rate friend.
Jonathan bounded over, his pants’ knees encrusted with dirt, his smile bright enough to light a Times Square billboard. “Cole wants to take me, I mean us, for ice cream,” he announced, eyes sparkling as he looked back at his new hero.
Pizza, playground, and now ice cream, talk about your kid-pleasing trifecta! Cole walked up to them, his beaming smile equal to Jonathan’s. Other than in the immediate aftermath of sex, she’d never seen him so relaxed.
Liz smiled. “Remember your manners, honey.” She reached out and swiped at a smudge on his chin. “Mr. Canning can speak for himself.” She glanced over at Cole.
“I’d love to—”
A friendly-faced brown Labrador gamboled up to them, cutting him off. Cole’s smile froze. His gaze darkened.
“Jonathan, get back!” He swooped, scooped up the boy, and began backing away. “Get, I said
get
!” he hollered, kicking dirt up at the dog.
Sarah leapt up from the bench. “Stop it!” Stepping between Cole and the dog, she hissed, “What the hell’s wrong with you? This is obviously someone’s pet that’s gotten loose. He’s got a collar, and look how well-kept he is.”
She turned back to the dog. Ears pinned and tail dragging, he backed away. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she soothed. Slowly she extended her hand and let him sniff. Once she’d established trust, she reached for his collar.
Cole set a squirming Jonathan back on his feet. “Pets aren’t allowed in New York City public parks,” he answered coldly. Despite the ice in his voice, his forehead and upper lip pearled with perspiration. “Check out the signs. They’re posted everywhere.”
“I guess he can’t read,” Sarah shot back.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Liz watching them intently. Like her, Liz was a dog lover, and yet when Cole went ballistic she hadn’t spoken up.
Holding on to the collar to keep the dog from wandering further, possibly into the busy street beyond the gates, she scratched behind one silky yellow ear. The animal began to relax. She moved on to the other ear. How could Cole be so cruel? It seemed completely out of character.
A young brunette hurried up the quartzite pavement, leash in hand. Reaching them, she expelled a ragged breath as if she’d been running. “Sorry about that. Some idiot left the dog park’s gate open, and Colby ran out before I could reach him.” She dropped down on one knee and pulled her pet to her. “Thank God you’re okay. You had mommy so worried,” she said, planting a smacking kiss atop his head.
“It’s okay, we’re all animal lovers,” Sarah said, cutting Cole a look. His expression remained wary.
Jonathan walked up to the dog. “Can I pet him?” he asked, dividing his eager gaze between the owner and his mother.
The brunette took a moment to hook on the lead before answering, “Sure, Colby’s really friendly. I adopted him from the ASPCA a year ago. He’s never bitten anyone to my knowledge, and he’s current on all of his shots,” she added, lifting one of the tags from the lab’s collar.
“Okay, but pet him gently, Jonathan,” Liz advised. “Let him get a whiff of your hand first, and don’t put your face down to him.”
They stood in silence as Colby, tail beating the bushes, basked in the full measure of a little boy’s rapt adoration. Venturing a look up to Cole’s stony face, Sarah wondered again what his problem was.
Rising, Colby’s person pulled gently back on the retractable lead. “Colby and I have to be getting on home. Again, sorry for any scare,” she added, giving Cole a broad berth as she led the dog away.
Liz got up from the bench. “I think ice cream will have to wait. Sorry, Jonathan, but I’m going to have to head home and take a nap.”
Jonathan’s narrow shoulders slumped, but good kid that he was, he nodded without protest. “That’s okay, mom, we have ice cream in the fridge.” He looked up to Cole. “Do you want to come back with us and have some? It’s mint chocolate chip,” he added as an inducement.
Cole reached down, laying a hand on either of the child’s shoulders. “Thanks buddy, but I’m about ready for a nap myself. You were a maniac on those monkey bars.”