Adulation (22 page)

And yet, not a single one of my protagonists was a mother. Why had I never noticed that before?

Ironically, Teddy had taught me self-defense. How was it that when he struck the most crushingblow, I rolled over in concession without even putting up a fight? How did I let him convince me that itwas my fault in the first place? Maybe that’s what my mother had seen when she hypothesized that theidea of having children was more desirable to me than the idea of being without Teddy. Maybe she hadsomehow seen that I was going to let him walk all over me.

I want to get to know you, Sunny.
 
The words echoed like an endless loop until I finally fellasleep, alternating between the voices of Danny Masters, Joshua Hamilton, and, to my surprise, my own.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Danny Masters

D
ANNY PULLED HIMSELF
 
together and drove home. Ella was coming to stay with him for the weekend, andhe could hardly wait. He was about to call Frannie to ask her if Ella could come a few days early whenhis iPhone played “How Long Has This Been Going On.”

“Hey, Char.” His voice sounded scratchy.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“I just got home.”

“So did I.”

His heart started to race. “For how long?”

“A week.”

“What happened to filming?”

“Principle photography postponed due to a death in Bill’s family.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.

“So?” said Charlene. “Your place or mine? I’m dying to put my hands on your body.”

He rubbed his red eyes, feeling run down and weary. “Let’s meet at your place,” he said, and putthe car into gear once again.

Charlene’s town house in Malibu was super chic—bright, bold colors and patterns and fabricsdesigned  and decorated by Nate Berkus; custom furniture and fixtures; a single woman’s place, neitherchild- nor pet-friendly. It had been photographed for some magazine spread recently, named one of the topten places that make your own house look like a hovel, or something to that effect, thought Danny. As helooked around, he saw that Charlene’s home was as corporately sponsored as she was—productplacement everywhere. Yes, indeed, Charlene Dumont was a brand.

She emerged at the doorway dressed in a faded T-shirt, Juicy sweatpants, and flip-flops (allvarious shades of pink), her hair balled up in a scrunchie and her makeup washed off. Still, she wasbreathtakingly beautiful. He slammed the door of his convertible and made his way up the walk.

“Damn, honey, you look like hell,” she said.

“I’ve had a rough day.”

“What’s the matter?”

He didn’t want to tell her about his conversation with Raj, or the storm it had stirred up, much lessthink about it.

“I’m having a hard time writing lately.”

“It’s all this Oscar talk,” said Charlene. “It’s messin’ with your head. Not like you haven’t had thisproblem before.”

She wasn’t wrong, he realized. But she didn’t know everything else—the gaffe at the premiere, theexchanges with Sunny... Or maybe she did and that’s why she was here. Charlene had a knack for showingup just when Danny needed to see her most. It was almost as if she read his brain waves, as if he had adirect telepathic line to her.

He was suddenly overcome with remorse. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t see you in New York.” Hewent to her and kissed her sensuously. She was wearing his favorite  perfume, and he was convinced itwas some kind of witch’s love potion concocted solely to make him submit to her. He would lie down intraffic for her if she asked him to while standing close enough for him to get a whiff. Just as she wasbreaking away to go inside the house, he pulled her back to him and inhaled, hoping to become high as akite.

“I missed you, baby,” he said softly, nuzzling her and burying his head in her shoulder.

“Well, take me inside and show me how much.”

The two of them entered the town house arm in arm, and no sooner had Charlene closed the door behind them than Danny pulled her T-shirt over her head and pinned her to the wall in the foyer, where he began kissing her neck. Charlene giggled (he knew her ticklish spot) and began to loosen his belt buckle, but Danny lightly slapped her hand away and made her take her own pants off first. She obliged, revealing a black lace thong. She slid away from the wall and out of the foyer to allow Danny to get an eyeful, and he would’ve rushed her like a linebacker had her tease not been so tantalizing. God, her
 
body
...Michelangelo couldn’t have sculpted a better body out of marble. Even her toes were sexy, pedicured and painted purple like little grapes, and he wanted to nibble on each one.

Removing her matching lace bra and draping it over the banister, she proceeded up the stairs daintily, her back straight as if she was balancing a book on her head. Danny followed her up, undressing on the staircase as he took every two steps, giving her a head start so he could watch her.

“Where shall we go? To bed or to the bath?” Charlene asked.

“Bed,” demanded Danny. “Bed bed bed bed bed.”
 
Make me forget
, he thought.

She giggled again, and he could no longer wait. He scooped her up and carried her into her bedroom, dropping her on the bed before he pounced.

Danny woke up at night, alone in the bed, and already knew where to find Charlene without needing tocall her name. He wandered out into the hallway and stairwell to retrieve his clothes, haphazardlydressed himself, and found her outside on the balcony. She wore a short terry robe and held a glass ofchardonnay and a cigarette. When they’d first dated, Charlene had rid her place of alcohol so as not totempt Danny, but recently she had restocked her wine rack without asking him if it would bother him. Hefixed his gaze on the glass—the shape of a wineglass (especially when full of wine) appealed to him thesame way her body did. The color of the claret or the pinot noir or the zinfandel was as inviting as one ofher silk teddies or lace garters. If he could have just one more sip...

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she said as he kissed her cheek. “You enjoy your nap?”

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Almost ten thirty.”

He took a Virginia Slim from her pack (she smoked only after sex) and lit it, leaning against therailing and viewing the nighttime panorama before him, dotted and  dappled with twinkle lights. “Wow,”he said, blowing smoke rings into the air. “That’s a postcard waiting to be made.”

As he stared at the horizon, he could feel Charlene turning to face him. “Are you really OK, Danny?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he answered, not looking at her and blowing another smoke ring.

“You seemed desperate for something in there before.”

His mind went back to the bedroom, wondering what in his lovemaking had evoked a sense of

desperation. He thought he’d left Raj and flashbacks of the accident on the stairs, dumped them there along with his clothes.

He blew another smoke ring.

“I heard about the video. Couldn’t have been fun hearing someone call you a failure,” she said.

“I’m over it,” he lied.

“Are you?”

Danny turned to face her. “What are we doing here, Char?”

She stood up and forcefully put out her cigarette in the ashtray on the balcony’s ledge, refusing to give him an answer.

“Are we back together? Are we just using each other for sex? I have to know what you want, Char. I have to know what
 
I
 
want.”

“I want to be uncomplicated,” said Charlene. “Can’t one thing in this life be uncomplicated? Can’t
 
we
 
be uncomplicated?”

“How can not clarifying this relationship be uncomplicated?”

“It’s too complicated to have to put a label on it, tie a schedule to it, and then make sure we’re keeping that  schedule. Isn’t it enough that we enjoy each other’s company and each other’s bodies without needing to commit to anything?”

They’d been having this argument for three years, only for the first two, she had wanted the commitment from him. She had once committed to a guest appearance on a TV show shot in Las Vegas for the sole purpose of luring Danny there with the hope that he’d impulsively whisk her off to some chapel to tie the knot. In fact, she
 
told
 
him of this plot one night when she’d gotten drunk following a rough day of filming. And while he did go to see her, he also let her know that under no circumstances were they even sneezing near a chapel. She even had a “Mrs. Masters” T-shirt made, the letters scripted in rhinestones across her chest, and she was so mad at him for not sticking to the plan that she used the T-shirt as a rag to clean her bathroom when she returned to LA.

In hindsight, Danny’s refusal to commit had nothing to do with a lack of desire or love or even some fear of considering how it would affect a then-preteen Ella. No—simply put, his refusal to commit had been the only card he held in this relationship, the only hold he’d had on her. And yet, somehow the balance of power had shifted there too. He had no idea when the tables had turned, or how, or why. He wasn’t sure when he became the one asking for more. Nevertheless, it had happened, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Charlene’s refusal to commit was for the same reason as his had been. He suspected she liked holding all the cards in this relationship now.

Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone.

He and Frannie had a reasonable joint custody agreement, although in the last couple of years he had wanted Ella to live with him full time. And he knew Ella wasn’t opposed to this idea, despite her keeping it from her mother so as not to hurt her feelings. But he knew that even if Frannie consented, his schedule of cross-country meetings and speaking engagements and location shoots and interviews and any other commitment he had couldn’t possibly allow him to care for Ella the way she needed, and he didn’t want her to be a nanny’s girl like so many other celebrities’ children.

But Ella was getting older. Perhaps things could be different now? Maybe that’s what this sudden desire to settle down was all about. But who was he kidding? Charlene was not a suitable mate when it came to settling down.

After mulling over Charlene’s question, Danny finally answered. “I need some stability.”

“Maybe you just need a vacation,” she suggested. “Or a week at a spa. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends for a long time. I mean, first there was
 
Winters
, then there was
 
Exposed
, not to mention all the other stuff that came in between. You’ve got to be just totally burned out by now.”

“I need a good stiff drink,” he said, letting out a sarcastic chuckle.

“You can’t have a good stiff drink,” she said without a trace of empathy in her voice, “so don’t even joke about it.”

He could feel the bile churning in him. How could he even
 
think
 
such a thing, much less rationalize it as a joke, after reliving the horror hours ago? He took another  drag from the cigarette, exhaled, and looked back out at the horizon again, disgust joined by immense sadness.

“Don’t you want to settle down?” he asked. “When do we get off the roller coaster?”

Charlene contemplated his question for a moment. “When nobody loves us anymore, I guess.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN