Night Vision (12 page)

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Authors: Ellen Hart

BOOK: Night Vision
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“Hum?”
“If I ask you to run downstairs and get my mail for me, will you do it without acting like I'm the queen of England?”
“I'd be happy to.” As walked over to the door, he added under his breath, “Boss.”
 
 
Bel Air, California
Spring 1989
 
 
A
fter the disastrous birthday party at the bungalow, Gordon took Joanna to a garden store, where they looked at bedding plants for several hours. Joanna tried hard to get her mind off David's behavior, but nothing she did seemed to work. She couldn't believe how selfish he'd been to ruin her perfect day. He knew how much her birthday meant to her. Maybe she was still a greedy child at heart, wanting everything to go her way, but for one freakin' day of the year, was that so much to ask?
Joanna had been a serious little girl, full of quirks and given to fits of temper. As a teenager, she never felt like part of the crowd, which only cut her off further. She saw her friends as shallow, interested only in the next date, the next keg party. She was much better than that. Joanna had set her sights on making something of herself. She wanted to achieve grand things. But after she'd won the golden prize, she came to the conclusion that shallowness was highly underrated. Shallowness was what allowed her to live in the world and not go stark raving mad. As far as Joanna was concerned, that was true for everyone—whether they admitted it or not. It was probably shallowness that allowed Joanna to ignore David and Diego for the rest of the day. They were selfish bastards and she was mad at them. End of story.
After a quiet, romantic dinner at a restaurant overlooking the Portofino Marina in Redondo Beach, Joanna and Gordon returned to her home in Bel
Air. They spent the rest of the evening making love. By the time she fell asleep in Gordon's arms, she'd forgiven David. Eventually, she always did.
The following day dawned in mist. Joanna walked out on the veranda overlooking the pool and the bungalow, where the world was washed in grays, everything indistinct, muted, softened. She regretted the way she'd handled herself yesterday and was eager to get down to the bungalow to set things right.
Gordon was lying in bed, watching TV when Joanna opened up her bureau drawer and removed a pair of clean sweatpants and a T-shirt.
“I'm famished,” he said, stretching his arms high above his head. “When you get a chance, I'd like some scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee. Jam or jelly if you have it.”
It was the first time he'd ever assumed that she would cook for him. They'd been together only a week, during which he'd always prepared the meals, if they ate in. He wasn't ordering her to do it, but he seemed to expect it, and that sense of entitlement annoyed her. She gave him an appraising look.
“What?”
“You
really really
don't want me to cook for you.”
“Why?”
“First, because I'm lousy at it. Second, because I'm not your servant.”
He surfed the channels, a disgruntled look on his face. “Come back to bed, then.”
“No.”
“Why not? Where are you going?”
“To talk to David. Not that it's any of your business.” Her eyes were drawn to the crumpled sheet draped across his lower abdomen. His body was so tanned, so beautiful, so relaxed and at ease. It was like having Michelangelo's statue of David in her bed. Sitting down next to him, she trailed her fingers across his chest. “I'm sorry. Guess I'm not in a very good mood.”
He glanced at her, then looked back at the TV. “What the hell bit your ass?”
“I treated David badly yesterday. It's bothering me.”
“I'd say it was the other way around.”
She shrugged, rising from the bed.
“We should hire a housekeeper, one who cooks.”
And there it was: the first “we.” She'd been waiting for it, but now that it was here, it didn't sit very well with her. “Let's talk about it later.” She started for the door.
“I ordered a wood chipper, a backhoe, and a tractor grader. They should be delivered this afternoon. You need to sign for them.”
“I
what
? Doesn't your landscape company deal with that?”
“It's not coming from the landscape company. I quit yesterday.”
She stopped and turned around. Walking back to the bed, she said, “You did?”
“Jo,” he said with exaggerated patience, “if I'm going to turn that hill of yours into a terraced garden, it's going to require a lot of time. I assumed you wanted it done before next year, so I didn't have a choice. I want to give this to you, babe. My gift.” He took hold of her hand.
“How do you intend to support yourself if you don't have a job?”
Now he looked wounded. “I thought I'd move in here. Isn't that what you want? I mean, we're together now, Jo. I'm committed to you in every way. I want to make your life richer, more beautiful. I'm devoted to that.”
“And in the meantime, I'm devoted to supporting both of us.”
He dropped her hand. “What the hell's going on? I thought this was what you wanted. Why is everything about money? You're just like every other Hollywood whore. Money's your
God.
”
“That's not true.”
“You sure could have fooled me. I thought you were better than that. I thought you wanted something more.”
“I do.”
“You're pitiful, you know that? I offer you my love, my whole life, and
you
—with all your money—all you're concerned about is who's going to pay the light bill? Buy the Kleenex?”
She felt like a total shit. “Of course not. I didn't mean—”
“I'll never be like that, Jo, and I refuse to be sucked down to your level.”
“Gordon, stop. Please.” She sat down, moved closer to him. She believed him when he said he'd never hurt her. She believed he wanted what was best for her. She
believed
even in the face of her growing doubt. She had to trust someone, sometime, didn't she? If she couldn't, her life would be reduced to an emotional wasteland. When she put her hand on his chest, she
could feel his heart beating wildly. “I'm sorry. Really. I didn't mean to upset you.”
He pulled her to him, kissed her fiercely. He'd never been rough with her before, but he was now, ripping the T-shirt off, breaking the clasp on the back of her bra. She felt helpless in his arms, breathless by the depth of his passion, by the sheer weight and power of his body. She wanted him. She bit his neck and tasted the salt and the sweat. “I love you,” she whispered, sensing that she had to prove it. And she
wanted
to prove it more than she'd ever wanted anything before in her life.
 
With one thing or another preventing Joanna from leaving the house, she didn't make it down to the bungalow until two in the afternoon. Before she even knocked on the door, she noticed that David and Diego's rental car was gone. She had no idea what their plans were for the day, but if they didn't connect in any other way, David usually left a note for her on the kitchen table.
Joanna dreaded talking to them about what had prompted their obnoxious behavior at the birthday party yesterday. She remembered most of it through the haze of too many glasses of champagne. In the cold light of day, she figured it was probably partially her fault. After the party, it became pretty clear that Gordon didn't think much of either her brother or Diego. That pained her, and yet she couldn't blame him. His only real opportunity to get to know them had been at the party. If Joanna's experience with David and Diego had been limited to that, she wouldn't have a very good impression of them either.
Unlocking the front door, Joanna walked into a perfectly cleaned bungalow. She expected to see
some
leftover balloons or crepe-paper streamers, a few dirty dishes or filled ashtrays, but the interior was spotless, just the way it had been before they arrived. Stepping into the bedroom, she was surprised to find all the suitcases gone. She opened the closet doors and found them empty.
Surely they wouldn't have left without talking to her, would they? The question echoed through the silent rooms as Joanna reached the kitchen. There was no note on the kitchen table. In fact, the refrigerator had been cleaned out, the garbage emptied, the dishes all washed and put away. She stood amid the smell of pine cleaner and lemon wax, totally stumped. Surely her brother couldn't have been that mad at her. If he was, she didn't have a clue why.
Joanna sat down at the kitchen table to think. It made a certain sense that, if her brother and Diego really were having personal problems, they'd leave early, and without telling her. David tended to get very tight-lipped about personal issues, while encouraging her to tell all about hers. She forgave him that little double standard. But if he and Diego weren't having relationship problems—she'd seen no real evidence of that yesterday—then why did they go?
It struck her that perhaps David and Diego didn't like Gordon. Or maybe they felt they were third wheels now that Joanna had a new boyfriend. If they were just being kind, giving Joanna and Gordon some time alone, it wasn't necessary. If they'd only asked her, that's what she would have told them.
Joanna looked up as Gordon came through the back door.
“Hey, Jo, what are you doing down here?”
“Looking for my brother.”
“They left right after lunch.”
“You saw them? Did you talk to them?”
He shrugged, sat down at the table across from her. “I was taking a swim. I called good-bye, but they ignored me. It's no skin off my nose if they don't like me.”
“Why wouldn't they like you? That's crazy, Gordon.”
Another shrug. “Who knows what's up with them. Just forget about it.”
Joanna had no intention of forgetting about it. As soon as she figured they were back home in Atlanta, she intended to call, read them the riot act. They never should have left like that. If she'd done something to upset them, they should have stayed and talked it out.
“I'm driving over to Stottlemeyers to get a sandwich. You want one?”
“Sure.”
“Beef? Turkey?”
“Whatever you get is fine with me.”
“You're easy to shop for.” He grinned. “Or maybe you're just plain easy.”
“Stop it.” She knew he was teasing her about this morning. They'd stayed in bed until after eleven. She had a meeting in Century City this afternoon but had canceled it. Gordon had some things to buy for the slope renovation, so he wasn't going to be around, and someone had to be at the house to sign for all the heavy equipment he'd ordered.
“Let's drive up to Sausalito tomorrow,” said Gordon. “I know that area really well. It'd give me a real kick to show my new lady around one of my old stomping grounds.”
“I've got a meeting with my agent tomorrow.”
“Cancel it.”
“It's not that simple, Gordon. I canceled a meeting today so I could wait around here and sign that form. I'm working, honey. I have commitments.”
“Sure. I get it.” As he stood, he cracked his knuckles, then his neck.
Joanna had begun to notice that he did this almost ritualized cracking when he felt uncomfortable or threatened. He also had a tendency to yawn when he felt stressed. He probably was unaware of the signals he sent, but Joanna, like most women, was good at reading her man. “Don't be angry. Maybe we can do it next week.”
“Sure. Next week. Except, by then, I'll be into the reconstruction of your hill. I can't just walk away and leave it.”
“No, of course not. Maybe we can do it this weekend.”
“Whatever.” He stepped over to the sink, took down a glass, and filled it with water. “I know what you're doing, you know.”

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