Ocean Beach (49 page)

There was a sharp intake of breath. Maddie wasn’t sure if it was hers or Tonja’s or possibly the room itself gasping in surprise. She shot her daughter a look of warning, but Kyra’s attention was fixed on Tonja Kay.

“Honestly,” Kyra said. “I don’t know how you put up with Daniel’s…indiscretions. I know I never could.”

Madeline hotfooted it to the kitchen. Nicole, Avery, and
Deirdre sat around the banquette, where Deirdre had spread out the contents of the “House” envelopes. Photos, sketches, and drawings were strewn across the table.

“Come sit down,” Nicole said. “We’re dying to hear what’s going on out there.”

“We tried the glass against the dining-room-wall thing, but the walls are too thick,” Avery said.

“And Deirdre threatened to maim us if we messed up the paint,” Nikki added. “Did you know Tonja was coming?”

“No! I don’t really understand what Kyra’s up to. When I left she was baiting the woman, which seems like a really poor idea.”

Maddie went to the coffeemaker and attempted to still her shaking hands with the familiar tasks of fitting a filter into the basket, scooping coffee into it, and pouring water into the reservoir. She looked at the others. “I hope she knows what she’s doing.”

“Everything will be okay,” Deirdre said. “And if it’s not, we’re here to help.”

“What’s Tonja Kay like?” Nikki asked.

“Cold,” Maddie said automatically. “Almost angelic-looking, which is really weird given the phone conversations I’ve had with her.” She flipped the brew button and took an empty seat at the kitchen table. “I need to think about something else right now. Tell me what’s going on here.”

“I’m cataloging The Millicent’s art and furnishings,” Deirdre said. “I thought I’d use it for the basis of an article about Hohauser’s design from the perspective of someone living in one of his homes today. I also want to write about Millie and Pamela Gentry’s additions to the house. Pamela was extremely talented and she and Millie created an incredible space together. The article would draw attention
to the house and could be a very positive promotional tool for
Do Over
.”

Maddie glanced at Avery, who would normally have already pointed out that it would be a promotional tool for Deirdre too. Even Deirdre paused, eyebrow raised, but Avery just stirred more milk into her coffee.

“And of course, the Realtors could use the catalog to help market the property,” Deirdre concluded.

“You were the one who told us we should have some faith that Max would recover and that there’d be someone he could leave the house to,” Madeline said, trying to focus on the conversation here rather than straining to hear the one taking place in the living room.

“I know and I meant it,” Deirdre replied. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be as prepared as possible. Just in case.”

They fell silent as they all contemplated what “just in case” was a euphemism for. Madeline couldn’t bear thinking about this house—and them—without Max. Once again she caught herself straining to hear what might be happening in the living room. All she could hear was the low murmur of voices and the occasional exclamation from Dustin.

Maddie looked down at the closest pile of photos and papers and picked up a photo of Pamela’s chandelier. Which had hung in her home in Chicago, where she would see it every day. As a reminder of…what? A friendship she still treasured? A house she’d put so much into but had never, in fifty years, mentioned to her family? Or a double rejection?

Why would a designer of her caliber cling to a piece that would be so out of place in her own home?

“Doesn’t it seem odd that Pamela Gentry had an identical chandelier made for herself? Have you ever done that, Deirdre? Copied something you had made for a client?” Maddie asked.

Deirdre shrugged. “The more custom and personalized the item, the less likely a designer would be to do that. But it’s certainly not unheard of. All things considered, I’m glad she did.”

Madeline slid the sheet to the back and studied the shot of Pamela Gentry receiving her design award, which shared a page with her obituary. On another sheet of paper was a printout of the Madsen Interiors home page, which included a grainy black-and-white publicity photo of Pamela Gentry Madsen and her son, Ethan, when he was named managing partner of the firm. She peered more closely at the mother and son. From what she could see, Ethan must have resembled his father; his features didn’t run to the gamine like Pamela’s did and he had none of her lean ranginess.

“Mom?” Kyra’s voice was easily heard from the living room. “I think we’re ready for that coffee now!”

“Yikes.” Madeline set the photos aside. With nervous fingers, she set mugs of coffee on a tray, added a small pitcher of cream, a bowl of sugar, napkins, and a couple of spoons, then picked up the tray and carried it as far as the dining room. Nicole, Avery, and Deirdre gave up all pretense of working on the catalog and followed her. She drew a deep breath of air and expelled it slowly. The spoons stopped rattling.

“We’ll be right here if you need us,” Avery said.

Nicole gave her a smile. “Everything will work out.”

“It’ll be fine,” Deirdre said.

Madeline left them huddled in the dining room, their ears, rather than water glasses, pressed to the wall. “Here we go,” she said far too gaily as she sailed into the living room and put the tray on the cocktail table just out of Dustin’s reach.

Kyra and the Deranian-Kays sat right where she’d left them, beautiful bookends with irritated looks on their faces. Dustin played with a new car on the carpet near his father’s feet.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maddie thought she saw a flash of something in Max’s bedroom. When she looked more closely, it was gone.

“Coffee?” Kyra asked.

Tonja and Daniel declined. Kyra shrugged and poured herself a cup. “Mom?”

“Um, sure,” Maddie replied, though she couldn’t imagine drinking a drop.

She watched her daughter pour and stir in cream and sugar. Kyra handed one of the mugs to Maddie then took a long sip of her own. Maddie had the impression that Kyra was playacting, trying to set some sort of scene or mood. She hoped her daughter remembered that the people she was facing were professionals.

“Daniel and Tonja have been laying out all of the things they can do for Dustin,” Kyra said. “You know, like A-list birthday parties with other celebrity children, world travel, mind-broadening experiences, his own room in each of their five homes, and his own personal nanny. Each of their kids has one.”

“Yes,” Daniel said, eager to capitalize on this selling point. “Tonja interviews and hires them all personally. Each
of them has to speak the language of the individual child’s country of origin.”

Kyra shot him a look.

“Of course, in Dustin’s case that would be English,” he added hastily.

Kyra said brightly, “That should broaden the pool of applicants. And keep at least one job from going ‘offshore.’”

“Yes,” Daniel said. “Most importantly, we want what’s best for our children and for Dustin.”

Maddie bristled at the implication that Kyra and her family did not. Kyra did the same.

“And that includes keeping him safe.” He looked and sounded impressively sincere.

“Which is something
you
have failed to do,” Tonja said with a certain amount of heat beneath the icy exterior. The two had a certain “good movie star, bad movie star” thing going. “Our bodyguards would have never allowed that weirdo to get within a mile of any of our children.”

“Except Dustin’s not yours, is he?” Kyra asked.

Tonja’s lips pursed. Her eyes flashed with irritation.

Kyra smiled at her and then at Daniel.

Maddie could barely drink her coffee without sloshing it, but Kyra actually seemed to be enjoying herself.

She leaned forward and said, “What I’ve really been wanting to ask is where you all went on vacation after Tonja found out Daniel was sleeping with me.”

The room went still. Tonja Kay and Daniel Deranian’s surprise shone in their eyes. Neither of them moved.

Maddie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She thought she heard shushing sounds from the dining room.

“I mean I was thinking about how I saw that photo of you
two on vacation on some beach somewhere while we were still at Bella Flora, but it really never said where. This time, after the assistant on the Miami film, you took the whole family to Scandinavia.” Kyra paused as if waiting for an answer.

“What the fuck?” Tonja said, more in amazement than anything else.

Daniel put a hand on his wife’s arm. “Women come on to me all the time,” he said. “I haven’t always resisted like I should.” He smiled like a child admitting he’d had one too many sweets. Or who’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

“Yes,” Kyra added, in a conversational tone that did not match the tilt of her chin. “I saw an article recently in which you described celebrity of a certain magnitude as a kind of sexual all-you-can-eat buffet.”

Maddie did not want to think about where her daughter had fit in all of this; was she a small but tasty appetizer? A chocolate dessert? She remained silent telling herself Kyra was going somewhere with this, though she couldn’t imagine where.

Tonja shrugged off her husband’s arm.

“Would you agree with that, Tonja?” Kyra asked. “That celebrity entitles a person to sleep with whoever they want whenever they feel like it?”

The blonde’s jaw clenched. Her overplumped lip curled. It seemed the ice maiden had begun to melt from within.

“I may not be the greatest husband fidelity-wise,” Deranian admitted. “But Tonja has been very understanding and…supportive.” He offered this as if it were a glowing testimonial to his wife.

Kyra kept her gaze fixed on Tonja’s face. Two angry spots of color dotted her pale cheeks.

Maddie looked at the husband and wife. They were both very talented actors, but they had very different styles. Daniel always seemed to be playing “everyman” and wanted to be universally liked; Tonja seemed far less inclined to perform at all. Especially not for people lower down the food chain than herself. Which was, of course, pretty much everyone else.

Kyra leaned toward Tonja, still acting as if they were having a friendly conversation. “You must be running low on exotic places to trot out your family for the press,” she said. “Given how often he screws around on you.”

“Fuck this shit!” Tonja exclaimed, moving to stand. Her husband put a hand on her arm.

“I think we’re getting a little bit off topic here,” Daniel said, cutting his eyes to Tonja.

“I don’t know,” Kyra said. “I would think your relationship would be kind of key to what sort of home environment you provide for your children.” She shrugged. “I mean what sort of example are you setting?” Her tone turned less friendly. “I think you’re the ones who aren’t fit parents.”

“Goddamn it,” Tonja shrieked. “This cunt has no right to talk to me this way. Fuck that!”

Dustin stopped playing with the truck. He looked up at Tonja Kay’s reddening face and blazing eyes and started to cry.

“I told you this was fucking ridiculous!” Tonja Kay shouted. “I do not need to convince this cunt that your little bastard would be better off with us. I fucking knew Mother Teresa!”

Kyra got up and retrieved her crying child. Sitting him in her lap, she rocked him against her, covering his ears as she did so.

“This bitch will be begging to give him to us when I
get the network to cancel this bullshit
Do Over
excuse for a show!”

Tonja Kay jumped up and let loose a string of profanities that had even Daniel blanching.

Kyra’s eyes narrowed, but she wore an oddly satisfied smile on her face. “I don’t know if you talk like that in front of your children, Tonja, but you’re not going to talk like that in front of mine ever again.”

She stood, still cradling Dustin close. Maddie and Daniel also rose to their feet, although Maddie couldn’t quite imagine what was coming next.

“But I’ll be happy to play this conversation back for anyone who wants to hear it, including the network,” Kyra continued. “I’m not sure either of you will be all that attractive to them once the world finds out you were trying to blackmail me into giving up my child.” She looked toward Max’s bedroom door and nodded.

Daniel looked nonplussed. Tonja just looked pissed. Maddie couldn’t even imagine what her own face looked like.

All of them turned when Max’s bedroom door opened and Troy and Anthony emerged.

“Got it! That’s a keeper!” Troy had his camera on his shoulder. He gave Kyra a thumbs-up as they moved across the living room, stopping briefly for Anthony to remove wireless microphones from the mantel and the lamp next to where Tonja Kay had been sitting. “Anybody interested in a playback?”

“What the fuck?” Tonja Kay whispered at a much lower volume.

“Hey!” Daniel Deranian said, knitting his brows. “What’s going on here, man?”

“We’re shooting a reality-TV show here,
man
,” Troy
replied. “I shot what just took place. It’s my job. And at the moment I’m lovin’ it.”

Daniel Deranian and Tonja Kay turned to Kyra, their faces painted with shock. This time Maddie didn’t think either of them was acting.

“Oh my gosh,” Kyra said, her eyes wide in mock surprise. “You mean you didn’t realize you’d be on camera?”

She let that hang for a long moment. “I didn’t think to warn you.” She looked at Daniel over Dustin’s head and her tone turned steely. “Any more than you warned me that you and your wife were going to try to take my child away.”

Maddie felt her shock begin to give way to relief and amazement. She couldn’t believe how cleanly Kyra had managed to turn the tables on the celebrity couple.

“If you ever make a complaint to the network—any network—threaten our livelihoods, or even hint that you want custody, I’ll go public with this video. It’ll be all over the airwaves and the Internet. I’ll send it out by carrier pigeon if I have to.”

Kyra locked gazes with Daniel Deranian. “You’re Dustin’s father and you should be a part of his life,” she said. “But Tonja’s not welcome, and any relationship will have to be on terms that I’m comfortable with and that will be good for Dustin.”