The Proud and the Prejudiced (9 page)

God, she loved this song. Her mother had it on
almost all of her playlists. The singer sounded so much like George Michael, or
perhaps the champagne improved his performance. With her eyes closed, she
released a full, deep sigh.
Only one thing could improve this moment.

As if he had read her mind, Peter pulled back ever
so slightly and lifted her chin with his forefinger then brought his mouth down
upon hers. Nothing sweet and gentle here. He claimed her mouth with fierce
passion, and she reciprocated. Their lips moving together as they continued
their semblance of a dance, her body pressed against his, converged to send a
charge of electricity coursing through her. He pushed his fingers through her
wet hair, pulling her mouth even closer as his tongue collided with hers. He
stopped even pretending to dance then, focusing all effort on the mutual
plunder of their mouths.

The song had not ended when he pulled his face
away. Confused, she opened her eyes and found him gazing at her intensely. The
second refrain came to an end; only then did he release his hold on her hair.
Taking her hand, his other arm still around her waist, he led her away from the
others and into the house while the saxophone continued to play.

As soon as they entered the dark silent room and
the door closed behind them, he had her against the wall and his mouth upon
hers. She couldn’t get enough of it – she never wanted his mouth to leave – and
she wrapped her arms around his neck to prevent its escape.

He must have felt the same way because, even as he
began to unbutton her blouse, he never broke away, never released her lips to
trail soft kisses down her throat or nibble her ear or any such nonsense. She
wanted to consume him and to be consumed in return. He felt good, he tasted
good, he smelled good. She had already kissed away the saltiness of sweat from
his lips, but his scent of spice and lust still teased her. Their chests rose
and fell in rapid synchronicity. Although he had unbuttoned her blouse with
care, he exercised no restraint with his own, pulling it apart as buttons
jumped into the dark. He opened the front closure of her bra, but he did not
bring a hand to her breast. Instead he laid his hands against the skin of her
back, pressing his bare chest against her breasts so she could not imagine how
he could hold her any closer. And never once did his mouth cease its relentless
assault.

They kissed in this manner for some time until she
could think of only one way to bring him closer, and she could feel his desire
as well. As if by instinct, she parted her legs, and he pressed himself against
her. He set her on fire – she yearned for him, burned for him, but only he
could extinguish the flame. Her heart raced, and she couldn’t catch her breath
until she thought she might suffocate. Only with all her strength could she
take her mouth from his to pant for air. He panted as well and dropped his head
against her forehead.

“Alice.” Her name had never sounded erotic until
spoken with his breathless voice.

His voice.
Peter. No, no, no
.

“Wait,” she said, bringing her hands to his
shoulders and pushing him back an inch, but she kept her eyes squeezed shut.
Oh,
no. I am one of them – one of his groupies
.

“Alice. Be with me tonight. I have to go to
Toronto tomorrow, but –”

“Oh, no.” She extricated herself from his embrace
.
A one-night stand. I almost become one in his long string of them.
She
blessed the darkness of the room that concealed her blush and her nudity as she
fumbled with her clothes.

He reached for her, but she flinched under his
touch. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“This – all of this. This is a mistake.”

“Alice, don’t say that.”

When he took hold of her arm, she jerked away.
“Stop! I-I’m sorry. I’ve had too much to drink. This should not be happening. I
didn’t know what I was doing.”

He switched a lamp on just as she finished
buttoning her blouse, but she had missed one in the process and had to begin
again.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and for some reason
she obeyed.

She couldn’t believe how delicious she found him,
the strength of the attraction with his shirt open, his breathing still heavy,
his mouth…She looked away.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” A hostile edginess sharpened
his tone.

“Who?”

“Rich. I saw him, in your office, kissing you.”

“Oh,
now
I see what this is about!”

“What
what
is about?”

She did face him then, prepared for the challenge.
“You and Rich. You could have any other woman, but you cannot stand for him to
have something that you don’t.”

“Is that it, Alice? Does he
have
you?”

“That is none of your business!”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

“That is
really
none of your business!”

She turned and strode with purpose to the door and
out into the hallway with him right behind her.

“Listen to me – you need to be careful with him.”

“Says the half-naked man who was just ravaging
me!”

“You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, I would say you
–”

She interrupted him with a primitive sound –
half-growl, half-groan. “Stop following me! I am not one of your bimbettes!”

She marched on toward the sounds of the party in
progress and turned into a lounge-like room, quiet except for Mrs. Jellyby’s
voice reverberating from the sofa where she sat pontificating to a weary Mr.
Peacock.

“You’ve seen how he is with her,” Mrs. Jellyby
said, oblivious to the presence of Alice and Peter just inside the room. “She
has him wrapped around her little finger! You know the people he represents. He
will get her a movie deal before the year is out – mark my words! And once
Giselle is in films, just think what that will mean for the show!”

Mr. Peacock noticed them then. “Alice? Is
something wrong?”

Alice could only imagine how she must look to them
– her hair a tangled mess, her face a chafed wreck, and a bare-chested movie
star behind her. She muttered something unintelligible and fled out the other
side of the room, which miraculously emptied into a hall leading to the front
door.

“Alice, stop,” Peter said, but she did not. “Where
do you think you’re going?”

She retrieved her purse and dug for her keys.
“That, actually, is none of your business either!”

His eyes hardened and his jaw stiff, he grabbed
the purse from her hands and held it out of her reach. “You are not going
anywhere.”

“What the hell, Peter? I just want go home.” She
covered her eyes with her hand and released an exhausted sigh.
Don’t cry.
Don’t you dare cry.

“I’ll drive you. You’ve had too much to drink.”

“I’m fine.”

“You just told me the only reason you couldn’t
keep your hands off me was because you were drunk!”

“Amazing how anger can be so sobering. Let me have
my purse!”

“I said I would drive you.”

“You have a house full of guests – you can’t
leave. And look at your shirt. Please let me go before someone else sees us and
thinks we…”

“I’ll drive her,” Mr. Peacock said behind them.
They both turned to him as he came forward and yanked her purse from Peter’s
hand. He looked Peter up and down as if he emitted an offensive odor, then with
his arm around Alice’s waist, he walked her out the front door.

CHAPTER 9

Rich tapped a knuckle on her open door. Alice
hadn’t bothered to close it, too exhausted even to say come in. She lifted her
eyes from her book to him without a word.

“Do you want to go get some lunch?”

“No, thanks. I brought mine.” She motioned to the
remaining half of her sandwich with the book.

“What’re you reading?”

“Research…on melodrama.”

He walked in and sat on the edge of her desk. “I
feel like you’re avoiding me. Are you still pissed about the party?”

“I told you when you called Sunday, I think you
were right not to come. I’m not avoiding you. I’m just busy.”

He held her gaze for a moment, gritting his teeth.
“Is it because of Peter?”

She rolled her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“People saw you, Alice. They saw you kissing him.”

Alice dropped her forehead onto her desk and
covered her head with her arms, one of which crushed her lunch. “Oh, God. No.
No no no no no no no…” She banged her head on the desk.

“They saw you go inside with him.”

“No no no no no…”

“And then neither of you went back to the party.”
Peter
didn’t go back?
“You slept with him. Didn’t you?”

Her head shot up. “No! Absolutely not!”

“Then why is everyone saying –”

“Shit. Everyone? OK, listen. I got drunk and, yes,
I kissed him. But that was it! Not even second base.”
That’s technically
true
.

“Did you kiss him like you kissed me?”

Her cheeks heated from the memory of kissing
Peter, and an unwelcome tremor rolled through her. “No, it was nothing like
when you and I kissed.”

“So where did you go?”

She stood up, and her chair rolled back and hit
the wall with a thud. “What is this, the Inquisition? I was drunk, Peter and I
kissed, we had this huge fight, then Peacock drove me home.”

“What did you fight about?”

“You, actually. He warned me not to get involved
with you.”

Rich dropped from the desk, his face blooming red.
“What did he tell you?”

“Nothing, really. Just that I needed to be
careful. I don’t know what his deal is with you, but I think he just said that
to try to get me into bed. Winnie wasn’t there, so he probably wanted a
one-night stand and assumed a lowly writer would jump at the chance. When he
realized there was no way in hell I would ever sleep with him, he probably
grabbed the first convenient female that walked by.” For some reason, that
thought tugged at her heart.

He released the breath he had been holding and
smiled. “So you really are not interested in him?”

“I can safely say that Peter Walsingham is the
last man in the world I would ever sleep with. He cheated on his wife with
Winnie, he would have cheated on Winnie with me, and God knows how many
bimbettes he’s had in between. He is the last person I would ever listen to for
dating advice.”

“Relieved to hear it. Most women would love to
scratch ‘movie star’ off their bucket list.”

She corrected his agreement error in her head.
“I’m not one of them.”

“Well, your lunch has had it. Now will you come with
me?”

“All of this has really made me lose my appetite.
Now not only do I have to write Eileen out, I have to contend with the rumor
mill. I need to get this Peter story nipped in the bud.”

“Then how ‘bout dinner?”

She stepped around and took both of his hands.
“I’ve been thinking – and this has nothing to do with Peter or the party or
anything like that – but I think we need to slow things down.”

“How slow?” He furrowed his brow.

“Don’t do that. You’ll get wrinkles.” He obeyed
immediately. “I mean slow – really slow. So slow that we are moving backwards.”

“I don’t get it! If this has nothing to do with
the other night –”

“The last relationship I had was with an actor on
the show, and it did not work out well. It really affected
All My Tomorrows,
and I can’t let that happen again.”

He squeezed her hands. “How do you know this can’t
work out with us? I’d like to try.”

“I…I would, too, but I have to put everything into
the show for the rest of the month to have a cliffhanger for the Olympics.”

He nodded, although his expression did not agree.
“Then we’ll try it during the Olympics.”

“No, I can’t then.” She glanced down at their
hands and released them. “I…I’m going on location with Eileen. She asked me to
come along.”

“For how long?”

“I’m not sure. A few weeks.”

“But I want to spend time with you, get to know
you better.” He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and left
his hand against her face.

“If you still feel this way in September, we’ll
see where this goes.”

He kissed her tenderly on the lips before walking
out.

What is the matter with me?
He was
good-looking, sexy, funny, obviously attracted to her, maybe a good kisser –
she wasn’t sure.
Why have I damned myself to Louisiana in August to avoid
him?

*****

“Alice, we have a problem.”

“My five favorite words.” She grabbed her iPad and
followed the stage manager to the park set where Giselle sat on a bench with
Rich and the cameramen and other crew standing around. “So what is it?”

“It’s Giselle.”

As soon as she reached Giselle, she understood the
problem. Giselle’s face was red, her nose swollen, and her eyes puffy. She
looked like someone who had been crying for hours. Alice sat down beside her
and placed a hand on her arm.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve been crying
for hours.”

Giselle sniffed, and more tears began to flow.
“It’s Jack. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since the morning after the
cast party. When he left my place, he said he would call me once he got Peter
settled in Toronto, but I never did hear from him. When I tried his cell, it
would go straight to voicemail, so I thought maybe he didn’t have service out
there. He didn’t reply to my texts either. This morning I called his office to
leave a message with his assistant, and she told me he’s been back in L.A.
since Friday!”

Alice rubbed her hand up and down Giselle’s arm
she hoped in a reassuring way, but she couldn’t keep thoughts of the storyline
out of her head.

“Giselle, he’s obviously a dick. He doesn’t
deserve you. You should just delete his number from your cell.”

“I already did.”

“I hate to say it, but he might have just wanted
to get you into bed. He’s had a crush on Sienna for years.”

“I know, but it just didn’t feel that way.”

We need a scene in the can
. “If I can put
together an emotional scene for you, do you think you can use all of this as
Sienna?” Giselle sniffed and nodded, and Alice stood up and glanced at her
tablet then around the soundstage.

“Who is still here?”

“Only Rich and Eileen from the cast,” the stage
manager said.

“Any writers? Go find them and tell Eileen to come
here. Where’s Peacock?”

“Gone. It was supposed to be a simple three-camera
scene, already blocked.”

Alice exchanged her iPad for a script, which she
pulled apart then rearranged its pages. “OK, Rich, you can go. We’ll have to
film your romantic scene with Sienna tomorrow. So move the scene with Raife and
his priest later, after the scene on the waterfront.”

Eileen and the writers appeared. “What’s up?”

“Thank God, you’re still in make-up. You haven’t
discussed the whole Tristan/brother bit with Sienna, have you?”

“No. Tristan told me, but I haven’t had a scene
with Sienna since.”

“OK, good. She’s about to show up at your doorstep
in hysterics. Everyone, move over to Clarissa’s living room. Eileen, go put on
scrubs or something. Writers, come with me.”

Romance and soap operas do not mix.

*****

“Cut. Print. That’s a rap!” Buzz.

Thank God – it’s finally over
. The last
week on set had been miserable. Eileen had gone to New Orleans the week before,
and Alice missed her already. Giselle moped around the set every day, which did
not help the on-air chemistry between Sienna and Raife. Although she did miss
the attention and the fun of flirting, Alice figured cooling it with Rich made
the disappearance of Jack at least a little easier on Giselle. In fact,
off-screen Rich had offered a shoulder for Giselle to cry on much like Raife
did for Sienna.

Hmmm
. Giselle and Rich walked off the set
together, and she definitely smiled up at him.
Perhaps Rich has decided not
to wait for me after all. Oh, well
. She could hardly blame him. A beautiful
actress and a handsome actor naturally gravitated toward one another –
especially when they were playing lovers on screen.

Mr. Peacock broke her from her reverie. “Alice, we
need to talk.”

Ah, my second favorite five words.
“What is
it?”

He handed her a thick stack of legal-sized paper.
Perusing the top sheet, only the names of the network executives and Peter
Walsingham made any sense.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Peter’s attorneys have been at it with the execs.
Peter is suing us.”

“For what?”

“So he doesn’t have to come back to
All My
Tomorrows.
”

All the blood rushed out of her face, causing a
chill and a wave of nausea. “I can’t believe it.” She handed him back the
papers.

“Believe it. At the very least, he will not be
back in September. The judge has granted his motion not to return until his
court date. The network attorneys said then he could request a continuance, and
this could drag out for months and he still wouldn’t come back.”

Her shock gave way to anger. Her heart raced and
her eyes burned. “That son of a bitch.”

“I’m sorry, Alice. I must admit, you were right to
cut his romance with Sienna.”

“That son of a bitch!”

“I know you and your team have mapped out a story
arc for him.”

“I’ll kill him. I swear to God, if I ever lay eyes
on Peter Walsingham again, I’m going to kill him! And here he offers to host
this congratulatory party for saving the show when he is putting the final nail
in its coffin!”

“Well, we don’t know when this was decided. He
might have thought –”

“Oh, no. I have every reason to believe that, even
that night, he had no intention of seeing any of us again.”

She marched into her office and slammed the door
but with such force that it bounced back open, giving her the pleasure of
slamming it again. And then she roared at the top of her lungs.

Alice had calmed down, for the most part, as she
walked through the soundstage for the last time for a month. Rich’s presence
near the exit startled her.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked.

“Waiting for you.”

“I guess you’ve heard.”

“About Peter? Well, I can’t say I’m sorry – or
even surprised. He thinks he is too good for this.”

“This could be the end. It’s a good thing we have
the Olympics. Our ratings can’t decline if we’re not on the air.”

He smiled then and stepped forward. He lifted his
hand to her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Alice, I know we said we
would wait until September, but have dinner with me tonight, just once before
you leave.”

His words and his thumb rubbing her cheek confused
her. “I thought you and Giselle were getting close.”

“No, of course not. We’re just friends. She’s been
so upset over this break-up, I’ve been like a brother to her.”

“But –”

“I’ve been keeping my distance because you asked
me to, but I’ve hated it. C’mon. Dinner.”

Tempting. Very tempting
. Now she couldn’t
even remember why she had decided to go to New Orleans in the first place. She
closed her eyes and leaned against his hand.
Oh, this could be very nice.

“Urrg,” she groaned and opened her eyes. “I wish I
could. Believe me, I really do. Unfortunately, I have a six a.m. flight
tomorrow, which means I have to be at the airport by four, and I haven’t even
finished packing.”

He nodded and moved his hand to the back of her
head. “Then a kiss goodbye?”

She dropped her purse and book and wrapped her
arms around his neck, stepping into the kiss, willingly opening her mouth to
him, welcoming his tongue and pressing her lips tight against his. And it
was…nice.