Dazzled (26 page)

“Hit it!” we said together, and Miles laughed.

It was so damn good to hear that –
The Blues Brothers
was one of our favorite films. It reminded me of nights in, cheap beer and pizza.

We chucked our bags inside, well, I did the chucking; Miles tenderly placed his sax in a drawer under the seats where it wouldn’t get thrown about.

The plan was to head north on the Pacific Highway, stop at one of the country park campsites west of Santa Barbara, chill for a few days, then go on to Saint Luis Obispo and a small jazz festival that Earl had recommended. If Miles got recognized, we’d just move on.

I had no idea how I was going to move on – from him, I mean.

Miles

My mood lifted when I saw the expanse of wide, yellow sand, and smooth, glassy waves breaking in the background.

I’d been driving for a couple of hours, just taking it easy, not in any particular hurry, letting the tension seep away. But seeing that beach, I really wanted to stop.

Clare said she didn’t mind, so I pulled into the small, sandy parking site of a designated camping area and cut the engine. I could hear the waves crashing onto the shore below, and seagulls wheeling in the sky, their cry echoing the sound in my head every time I thought of Lilia. But it was peaceful here, too – no people.

“I’m going to go for a swim,” I said, decisively. “Are you coming in?”

Clare shook her head, shivering as she imagined the cold water of the
Pacific ocean.

“No bloody way! It’s December.”

“Uh huh, but they’ve invented wetsuits,” I smiled, pointing at the sign that advertised rentals.

She folded her arms across her chest and shook her head again. I couldn’t help noticing that when she crossed her arms, it pushed her tits up.

Yeah, well, I’m a guy, and I wasn’t dead yet.

I dug through the small closet at the back of the van and pulled out the funky-smelling neoprene suit.

Clare wrinkled her nose. “No, thanks. You go ahead.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Take a walk along the beach – see if I can find any driftwood to build a fire. We could toast some marshmallows.”

She raised her eyebrows and winked. I couldn’t help laughing. That sounded perfect. Clare always knew how to make me feel better.

“Fantastic! I’ll see you in an hour or so.”

“Have fun,” she said, as if she couldn’t believe that would be possible on a cool December morning.

The gray waves stretched toward the horizon, and I had the beach almost to myself. We’d passed a car parked about a quarter of a mile away, and I could see two surfers, tiny dots in the distance, but that was all. It was just what I wanted – emptiness. It matched how I felt inside. Thank God Clare was there, otherwise I might have seriously considered finding out if I could swim to Hawaii.

The beach was small, just a dip in the curve of a larger bay, with huge boulders jutting out through the soft sand. The contrast seemed significant, although I couldn’t explain why.

It felt good to be in the sea, even though the water was damn cold. Jumping through waves and bodysurfing back to the beach, it was hard to think of anything else. I dived under some more waves and swam behind where they were breaking. The cold water made my head ache, but I didn’t care – in fact I welcomed the physical pain.

After a while I realized that I was much nearer to the two surfers than when I’d started out. The current must have pulled me along without me noticing it. I caught a wave back to the beach, and watched as one of the surfers rode the wave behind me. As the figure got nearer, I saw that it was a woman.
There was definitely something to be said for skintight wetsuits
. Luckily, my dick was too shrunken with cold to pay much attention.

The blonde surfer smiled at me as she tucked her board under her arm and waded out of the foam.

“Hi there! Did ya forget your board?” she said, her tone amused.

“Damn it! I knew I was doing something wrong.”

She giggled. “That’s cute! And I just love your accent! Are you British?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m Sasha!”

Her brunette friend paddled over to join us, and threw a look that I recognized.

“And I’m Cameron. Wow, up close you really look like that actor guy,” she said, suddenly.

“Who?” asked Sasha, frowning.

“You know… the British guy from that film.”

“British?” Sasha echoed, eyeing me narrowly. “Which film?”

“You know – the one with the angel. Um…
Dazzled
!”

“Oh yeah! You totally do!” Sasha agreed, enthusiastically.

They looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something.

God, this was going to be awkward
.

“So, what’s
your
name?” said the one called Sasha.

“Miles.”

There was a beat, then their mouths dropped open in synchronized surprise. It was almost funny.

“Ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod! You’re
him!
You’re really
him!
”

Great, just what I didn’t want.

“Er, yeah, I guess.”

I could see the exact moment that they connected me with all bullshit flying around about Lilia.

“Oh, God! I’m so sorry about your girlfriend!” breathed Sasha, her eyes wide and full of more bloody pity.

“Yes, she’s such a freakin’ ho!” Cameron added, her face severe. “I can’t
believe
she did that to you! I mean, blowing that guy – and there are photos and everything!”

I couldn’t help wincing.
I sooo didn’t need to be reminded.
Jeez, it was like being back at school. Everyone knew you’d been dumped before you got through the door, and because your girlfriend hadn’t got around to telling you herself, you were the last to know.

“Yeah, well… Thanks,” I mumbled.

“We’re so sorry,” whispered Sasha.

It was as if someone had died. But no, just my pride – and yet another relationship.

“Yeah, I’m going to head off now,” I muttered, pathetically.

“What are you doing here?” said Cameron, breezily.

“Oh, just taking it easy. Chilling out.”
Avoiding the press. Hiding, mostly.

“Cool!” smiled Sasha. “Hey, we could teach you to surf if you like!”

Great – and then they could hold a pity party for me while they were at it
.

“Thanks, that would have been good, but I, um, have to get going now. Gotta, you know, get going.”

I started edging away from them and Sasha’s face fell. I was half expecting her to unzip her wetsuit, whip out a notebook and pen, and ask for my autograph. But I managed to get away without them telling me how
sorry
they were again.

“It was nice meeting you!” Cameron called after me.

Yeah, memorable
.

I waved, but didn’t stop as I jogged up the beach.

By the time I got back to the campervan my good mood had entirely and predictably evaporated.

“What did those women want?”

As usual, Clare cut to the chase.

“To commiserate over Lilia,” I spat out.

“Oh,” said Clare, softly. “Want a cup of tea?”

I almost snapped at her, but managed to simply nod because, yeah, I was English, so a cup of tea fixed everything.

I pulled off the borrowed wetsuit and towelled myself dry in the chilly air. I hadn’t really been thinking when I’d packed up my stuff, so I hadn’t brought any underwear. Again. Maybe I should go back on
Ellen
after all, just for the free boxers.

There was no one in sight, so I dropped the towel and pulled on my jeans. When I turned around Clare was looking at me strangely.

“Yeah, I need to do some shopping,” I said.

“What? Oh, yes, right. We should find somewhere soon.”

She handed me a mug of tea and we sat side by side in the doorway of the van, Clare’s feet dangling, mine half buried in the cool sand.

“Uh, Miles – can I ask you something?”

Since when did Clare ask permission?
I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be good.

“S’pose so.”

“What did you mean when you said you wondered
how long
Lilia had been cheating on you? What makes you think she’d done it before?”

Oh.

“You don’t have to tell me…”

I shrugged. What difference did it make now?

“I don’t know for sure – I don’t know anything… except what I’ve seen…” I stared into my tea.
Hell, I didn’t know, maybe I was looking for some damn tealeaves to give me the answer.
“It’s just that, the very first time we went out – to that awards dinner, before I’d even got the
Dazzled
job – I saw Joe Blow. I was going to the gents for a slash, and he was in there with this woman, getting his knob polished – real vacuum action.”

“Bloody hell!”

“Yeah, that’s about what I said. Anyway, I backed out pretty damn quick, and I bumped into Lilia. She was standing right there. I didn’t think about it at the time, but why was she waiting outside the men’s bogs? Then she said that getting blown was
his thing
and that he was
known for it
. I mean, how did she know? It’s not all over the internet – not like now… but
she
knew
. So I’ve been wondering if she knew from personal experience.”

“Oh…”

Her words ground to a halt, but mine kept pouring out, the most poisonous thoughts that I couldn’t stop.

“Hell, for all I know she was thinking about him every time I had my dick inside her.”

I could see that I’d shocked Clare, but I was really asking her.

“Do you think she was?”

She sighed and looked down. “I don’t know.”

“No. Neither do I. And that really fucks with my head, you know?”
Shit, this stuff was hard to talk about
. “She said it was a game. Lilia said that people like him did it to see how long they could get away with it. I guess that’s all I was to her – a game.”

Clare spoke slowly. “Well, now they know. No one gets away with it forever.”

I shook my head impatiently.

“Didn’t you listen to what Rhonda said? It would be easy enough for all this crap to get heaped on me. A couple of careful statements here and there, and I’ll be the one at the bottom of the dungheap.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Guarantee that, can you?” I said, viciously.

She fell silent, and I felt like a right bastard for taking it out on her.

She chewed a fingernail for a moment while we both took a minute.

“What did she say in her texts? I assume all those messages you deleted were from her?”

“I only read the first one. She said sorry.”

“Was that all?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to read the rest.”

She nodded slowly.

“I think I’ll swear off women,” I said, staring into my tea. “I’m rubbish at relationships. Why do women cheat, Clare?”

I really wanted to know.

“Not all women cheat,” she said, quickly.

I was sort of afraid she’d say that.

“No, you’re right, I know. It’s me – women always cheat on me. I must be a crappy boyfriend.”

“That’s not true! You’re wonderful and caring and kind and…”

God, I loved that woman.
She was so bloody loyal. I couldn’t help laughing – at least I think that was the sound that came out of my throat.

“Yeah, that must be why I keep getting dumped.”

“No!” she said, briskly. “You just have terrible taste in girlfriends.”

Shit.
She was right.