This Is True Love (Exclusive! #1) (14 page)

Mrs. Burton invited them to sit down. They sat on the couch, the old piece of furniture creaking underneath their combined weight, while she took the love seat.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet with us,” Fliss said. “We came to interview you about Farrah Blake.”

“Yes, I know,” Susan Burton said. “My question is why? She’s been dead a long time, and when she was alive, she kept to herself in her later years. Didn’t come around here much.”

“We’d like to make a movie about her,” Alex said.

Mrs. Burton turned her hawk-like attention to him. “The only reason I agreed to do this is because I knew your grandparents. They were proud of you. Good people. Can’t say the same for your daddy, but I suspect you know that. Kind of look like him, but you’re not mean like him. I can tell by your eyes.”

Alex’s nerves jumped at the mention of the person he tried very hard never to think about. “Thank you. I loved my grandparents.”

“So why are you interested in Farrah?”

“She led a fascinating life, and I—we,” he corrected, pointing to Fliss and then himself, “believe it deserves to be told.”

She eyed him doubtfully. “You’re not going to do some hatchet job on her, are you? Because if you are, I won’t help you. She was my best friend from the moment we met in first grade.”

First Mansfield, now Mrs. Burton. Were all the people in Farrah’s life mistrusting? He shook his head. “No, we wouldn’t do that. Her life was compelling. We want to tell it as honestly as possible.”

Fliss scooted forward. “That’s why we came. To get stories from the people who knew her before she became a worldwide star and what motivated her to get there.”

The elderly woman studied her. “You know something about being a star.”

“I do, which is why I’m the perfect person to tell her story. I know how crazy and stressful and wonderful fame can be. How it tests our character and reveals it at the same time.”

“Hmmph. Did you practice that little speech before you got here?”

Fliss laughed. “No, ma’am, I didn’t. It was that good, huh?”

Mrs. Burton’s lips tilted up. “Does Farrah’s husband know you’re here?”

Fliss’s eyes flickered to his before answering. “He doesn’t.”

“I didn’t think so. He was always overprotective of her. Could be sweet sometimes, but also annoying. He’s making things difficult for you, isn’t he?”

“Well…I wouldn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to. I can read between the lines. But I like that you’re circumspect. Means you don’t run around blabbing everything you know the second you find out.”

“Thank you. So will you help us?”

Mrs. Burton settled back into the love seat and crossed her arms over her thin chest. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

Alex hadn’t flown across the country to give up easily. He leaned forward. “What can we do to convince you?”

***

“Ladies, you remember Dina Graham’s grandson, Alex?” Mrs. Burton asked.

Two women, neither of whom could be a day under seventy-five years old, stared at Alex with identical looks of suspicion. He seemed to take it in stride, offering up a reassuring smile. At least the one at the end of the couch, who wore a red Phillies T-shirt, looked amused. Maybe she would be an ally.

This wasn’t how Fliss had imagined things would go, but if it was the only way, then so be it.

“You’re going to have to impress the ladies who’ve lived in this neighborhood the longest to get info,” Mrs. Burton had told Alex.

Clearly confident in his skills of persuasion, he’d readily agreed. So here they were. At the weekly knitting circle meeting. The circle members had arrived a few minutes ago.

“Dina Graham, you say? I’d forgotten her son had a son,” one of the knitters, Mary, said, peering at him through thick, wire-framed glasses.

“Yeah, that no-good piece of work,” another basically yelled. Fliss’s eyes flicked to her hearing aid, which clearly wasn’t up to the task.

“Liza, please,” the Phillies fan, Rachel, if Fliss remembered correctly, hissed, elbowing the loud talker.

“What?” Liza cried out. “Speak up. You know I hate when you whisper.”

Rachel rolled her eyes and gestured toward her ear. “Turn up your hearing aid.”

Liza made a face but complied.

“Ladies, play nice,” Sue said. She’d insisted they call her that, rather than Mrs. Burton, after they’d agreed to take part in the knitting circle. “Alex and his friend Felicity are our guests.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Mary asked, her eyes, made large by the thick glasses, drilling holes into Alex.

“No, we’re just friends,” he answered with a pleasant smile.

“Scared to make a move?”

Fliss couldn’t help herself. She snickered. Alex side-eyed her and sighed. “No. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“Why not?” Mary asked.

“Yeah, Alex, why not?” Oops. That was her. Probably shouldn’t have said that, but needling him never got old. And okay, she wanted an answer to a question she’d asked herself way too often. Just because she was rarely, if ever, satisfied with the answer didn’t mean Alex felt the same. She met his glare head-on. Bravely if she did say so herself.

“Because we don’t,” he said. “You know that, Fliss.”

Her eyes narrowed. Ooh, there it was. His Lord of the Manor tone. She offered up her most chipper smile and snapped her fingers. “Oh, that’s right. Just checking.”

“Mary, stop being nosy,” Rachel said. She turned to Alex. “Why don’t you tell us why you’re here?”

“We came to learn how to knit.” Alex offered up a potent, charming smile.

Rachel flicked her hand at the wrist, clearly unimpressed with charm. “No, you didn’t. You didn’t show up here out of the blue, wanting to know how to knit.”

“Ma’am, you’re right,” Fliss interjected. Arguing with Alex was not the reason she was here. They could do that any time they wanted, and, knowing their dynamic, probably would as soon as they wrapped up this session. “We also wanted to talk to you all about Farrah Blake.”

“Aww, I see. Well, that’s not gonna happen until you start knitting,” Rachel said.

The women opened their knitting bags and took out various projects. Fliss recognized a half-finished scarf, a glove, and two sweaters.

“Knitting keeps our old fingers nimble,” Sue said, handing them both knitting needles and a skein of blue yarn. She showed them how to hold the needles in their hands and loop the yarn in the needles. “What do you want to make?”

“Since this is our first time, let’s stick to something simple,” Alex said.

“Good idea,” Fliss said. “How about scarves?”

The women demonstrated how to start a project by preparing the first row of stitches on the needle with a long-tail cast on. Fliss watched Alex out of the corner of her eye. He picked up the rhythm easily. Was there anything he wasn’t good at? Memories of his magnificent kisses invaded her mind. She shook her head and refocused on her task. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the same natural affinity for knitting as Alex. While trying not to make a mess of the yarn in her hands, she listened to the women gossip about the latest neighborhood goings-on.

During a half-second lull in the conversation, Alex jumped in. “So what can you tell us about Farrah Blake?”

Fliss wasn’t surprised. He might give the impression he was patiently biding his time by whiling away the afternoon knitting, but she’d felt the coiled tension in his body next to hers.

“She was a handful, that’s for sure,” Sue said with a fond smile.

“Handful is one way to put it,” Rachel said. “She was sweet but spoiled. Her parents gave her everything she wanted and filled her head with stories about how great she was.”

The women laughed and shared knowing glances.

“But she didn’t have a mean bone in her body,” Liza said. “She was just focused on making her dreams come true.”

Fliss stopped pretending to knit. She didn’t want to miss a second of this. This was what they’d come for. The inside scoop. She exchanged glances with Alex. He felt it, too.

“Do you mind if I get my camera out?” he asked, his eyes shining bright with excitement.

“Ooh, are we going to be on TV?” Sue asked, patting her curly hair.

Rachel smoothed a hand down her T-shirt. “I would’ve dressed up if I’d known.”

Alex put aside his knitting needles and retrieved the small video camera he’d brought with him out of its bag. “No, you’re probably not going to be on TV.”

In unison, the knitters deflated.

“But I am making a short documentary about Farrah,” he hastily added. “I want to show it to her husband to convince him to let us make a movie about her.” He stepped behind Fliss, ready to film.

When he trained the camera on her, Rachel’s eyes widened. She gripped the hem of her T-shirt. “Um, on second thought, I’m not sure this is a good idea. I don’t want to sound dumb.”

Fliss’s heart clenched in sympathy. The last thing they wanted was for this to be a stressful experience for her or the other women. Her gaze swung to Alex.

Without taking his eyes off Rachel, he handed the camera to Fliss and crouched in front of the older woman. He gathered her thin hand between his and looked into her wary eyes. “You’re nervous. That’s understandable, but you’re not going to sound dumb.”

“Of course you’re not, because I won’t let him do that to you,” Fliss said when Rachel still looked unconvinced. “That’s why I’m here.” She flexed her biceps. “I’m the brain
and
the brawns of this operation.”

Rachel rewarded her with a tentative smile.

Alex turned to her, his eyebrows lifted. “Thanks, Fliss, as
always
for your support.”

“No problem.” She shrugged. “I mean, what can I say? I’m a selfless individual.”

“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” He swept her figure with his dark gaze, sending an electric charge through her system. Before she could reply—not that she had any idea what to say—he returned his attention to Rachel. “All I want you to do, all of you to do, is to be yourself and speak from your heart. Pretend like I’m not here. Do you think you can do that?”

He offered up a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Rachel nodded, confidence entering her eyes and smile. How could it not? He was being so warm. Understanding. Caring. Who was this man and why did Alex keep him locked away most of the time? She’d accused him of being emotionless, but she was starting to realize that wasn’t it at all. It was a mask he wore. To protect himself? If so, from what?

He felt. A lot. She could pretend otherwise because it was easier to do so, but that didn’t make it true. If he didn’t feel for others, he wouldn’t have come after her the night of the Hollywood Gives Back Gala. He wouldn’t have shown concern for her on other occasions.

“Great.” He squeezed Rachel’s hand, then went down the line, holding the individual gazes of the other women for a few seconds each. “I have faith in all of you. I couldn’t have asked for better interviewees.” One by one, they all smiled, the strain disappearing from their faces. He looked over his shoulder at Fliss. Their gazes caught and held for a breathless moment. She couldn’t help but offer him a smile, too. He slowly returned it. Their connection was real. Undeniable. Except they had to deny it, right?

Before she could come up with any answers, he rose and resumed his position behind her. She stood and handed him the camera. Their fingers brushed. The contact, so light, shouldn’t have sent a rush of awareness through her. But it did. He flexed his hand against hers, like he felt it too. Like he didn’t want to let her go. But then he did. She shouldn’t have felt like she’d lost something precious, but she did.

“Remember, be yourself,” he said to the women. “Talk to each other. That’s all we want.”

Fliss stepped aside when Alex raised the camera to his eye. He commanded the equipment easily, spanning the couch with it. “How did Farrah and Phillip meet?” he asked.

“At a charity event,” Mary said, adjusting her glasses. “She’d started to have some success and so had he as a producer. He was presenting an award to her. When he and Farrah made eye contact, wow.” She fanned herself. “He wouldn’t go talk to her, so she flirted with every man in attendance. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, stormed the dance floor, and stole her from her dance partner.”

“What happened then? Was it a love story?” Fliss asked.

Sue chuckled. “In a way. They couldn’t stay away from each other, but she made him run circles before she allowed him to catch her.”

“She wasn’t perfect,” Alex said.

“No, that she wasn’t,” Sue said. “Farrah always said she started out poor, but she didn’t have to end that way. She had the perfect partner in Phillip. They had the same dream—to make her a star—and they did it.” She sighed and set aside her knitting needles. “But that kind of success often comes with a price, and she never knew how much until the bill collector came calling.”

“You were her best friend. Did she confide in you?”

“As much as she could. It was a different time. We didn’t have cell phones and computers, so we wrote letters and talked on the phone sometimes. She came to visit when she could. At some point, it became too much for her—the fame, the attention, the demands. She never had any time to just be Farrah.”