One Day at a Time (15 page)

Jane told her mother that she was planning to do amniocentesis, to make sure that the baby was genetically healthy, and it would be fun to know the sex. She and Liz were both hoping for a girl. Florence couldn't believe she was going to be a grandmother. And when she thought of it, she wondered if Gabriel would feel any differently about her. Her daughters had shaken her up badly in the last few days.

Coco was easier on her, but it was obvious that she was upset too. She had had a little more time to get used to the concept of her mother being involved with a much younger man, since she had seen them at the Bel-Air.

“Thank you for not being angry at me,” her mother said softly. In the end, as she always was, Coco had been kind to her.

“I'm not angry. I just worry about you,” Coco explained. It felt strange to have a parental role with her mother now. And Florence seemed more inclined to confide in her now than in Jane, which was odd too. Her mother and older sister had been much closer to each other over the years. It was partially due to Jane's age, and that Florence and her elder daughter had enjoyed the relationship of mother and only child until Coco was born. As a result, Coco had always felt that Jane had a head start on her, and that they shared a bond that rarely, if ever, included her. They just wouldn't let her in. Their way of thinking was similar, they were equally critical, opinionated, and shared many of the same ideas. Even as a child, Coco had been different from either of them. She had felt like an outsider in their midst almost since birth. As long as she could remember, her mother and Jane had been best friends.

Jane had left for college when Coco was six, and instead of becoming the favored only child after that, Coco had remained an outcast, brought up and entertained by nannies, while her mother worked. Florence had been far more interested in writing her books than in spending time with her younger child. It was Jane she would always drop her work for, whom she spent time with, went on trips with, who was more interesting as an adult. Somehow, whatever the time or the season, Coco always felt as though she never made the grade. And now, for once, it was the always perfect, irreproachable, knowledgeable about everything, arbiter of right or wrong, famous Florence Flowers, who felt as though she was in disgrace. It was an unfamiliar feeling for her. And she was leaning on her far gentler daughter for comfort.

“How did you meet Gabriel, Mom?” Coco asked her in one of their lengthy conversations about him. As long as he seemed to be firmly entrenched in her mother's life, she wanted to know everything there was to know. Florence mistook it for approval, and was grateful to her. She had been very hurt by the things Jane had said. And even if she had apologized later, you can't unring a bell. She had accused her of being senile, having Alzheimer's, being a foolish old woman who was being taken advantage of by a man who wanted nothing more than to exploit her money and fame. Coco realized that could still be true, but she had been more cautious about what she said. Although her relationship with her mother was difficult, she was basically a profoundly kind person and didn't want to hurt her.

“I sold one of my books to Columbia for a movie last year, and Gabriel was assigned to produce and direct. We worked closely together on the script, although I don't think it will be shooting till next year. We had a lot of fun collaborating. He's a very interesting, sensitive man.” She sounded suddenly shy then, which startled her daughter. It was an unfamiliar tone for her. “And he says the same thing about me. He was involved with an older woman in college, though not this old,” she admitted. “He had a thirty-year-old girlfriend when he was eighteen.” He clearly had a thing for women who were older than he was.

“I look forward to meeting him,” Coco said quietly. It was true, for a number of reasons. Although she didn't say it, she was still extremely suspicious of him. It didn't seem right or normal for him to be with a woman twenty-four years older than he was, although admittedly her mother didn't look her age, and he didn't know the full truth about Florence's age. But he still thought there were seventeen years between them, which was a lot. She wondered if her mother had had something like this in mind when she had the second face-lift right after Coco's father died. Probably not, but it did occur to her now. And she had had a tummy tuck and liposuction then too. Florence had always been very vain. It was all part of what Coco had rebelled against, as part of the Hollywood life she knew. Jane was vain too, though not as much so as their mother, and Coco knew that she had been getting Botox shots for the past several years. Coco couldn't even remotely imagine doing any of it. That kind of vanity and self-absorption was totally foreign to her.

“He wants to meet you too,” Florence said in response to what her daughter had said. Just hearing her say it was a relief. She had been terrified that they might both stop seeing her. Jane had thought about it, but had been considerably calmed down by Liz.

“So what do you think of the baby?” Coco asked her idly. She couldn't imagine that becoming a grandmother was what her mother had in mind these days. It would surely be awkward for her.

“I think it's nice for them. I always thought you'd be the one to have children. It never occurred to me that they'd do something like this. It's a little strange not knowing who the father is.” But what her mother was doing was a little strange too.

“Jane says she didn't want the complications of doing it with a friend. This way the baby only belongs to her and Liz. I can see her point. It would probably feel weird having the baby of someone she knows. It still seems a long way off.” It was six months away. “I suppose we'll all be used to the idea by the time it arrives.”

“I'm not sure I will,” Florence said honestly. “I have other things on my mind right now. And I'm starting a new book.” The shock and humility had already begun to fade from her voice. She rarely if ever lost sight of who she was, although Jane's fury at her had taken her down a notch or two, at least for a few days. She almost felt as though becoming a grandmother now, with a younger man in her life, was Jane's ultimate revenge on her. There was no question in the minds of anyone who knew her that for the most part Florence Flowers was all about herself. And the only person she occasionally let into her private world was Jane. She was sad to realize that with a baby now, that would change. Jane's allegiance would lean more toward her own child and Liz. And suddenly Florence felt left out. It brought her even closer to Gabriel than before.

She talked about her daughters with him that night. He knew she had told them about him, and he was nervous about it. He couldn't imagine their approving of him, and he was right.

“Are they both still upset?” he asked nervously, when they had dinner on the terrace of the Ivy that night. Florence was wearing white jeans, high-heeled gold sandals, and a turquoise silk shirt. She looked better than ever, and it was hard to believe she had been unnerved by them at all as she looked adoringly at him.

“They'll get over it. They already have,” she reassured him. “Coco was startled by it, but she's a very sweet girl. She said she just wants me to be happy, and she's looking forward to meeting you the next time she comes down. She can't come at the moment. She's house-sitting for her sister right now.” She didn't say a word about the baby, and didn't intend to until she had no other choice. She didn't want him to start thinking of her as a grandmother. The age difference between them was bad enough, without adding that. It hadn't seemed that monumental to her for the last year, but it clearly was to Jane. “My older daughter is harder,” she said to him, as he ordered champagne for both of them. They had something to celebrate now—they could come out of hiding and stop worrying about her daughters finding out. Florence had been worried about the press too. She was a major celebrity, and their romance was a juicy story that would eventually wind up in the tabloids and fan magazines. They had been lucky and careful so far.

“Was Jane very angry at you?” Gabriel asked, looking worried, as he toasted her with the champagne. He was wearing a T-shirt and white jeans, with brown alligator loafers and no socks. The shoes had been a gift from Florence months before. She liked seeing them on him. He wore them a lot when he was with her. She had bought him black ones too.

“She was at first,” Florence said honestly about her oldest daughter. “I don't think it ever occurred to her that something like this could happen. I think it shook them up because of their dad. You're the first man in my life since he died.” That wasn't entirely true, but she thought it would sound better to him. She had had two brief affairs in the year after Buzz died, which she had never mentioned to her girls. They had been very dull men, and she hadn't been in love with either of them. But she was madly in love with Gabriel Weiss, and had fallen head over heels for him the day they met. He claimed to have felt the same for her. And their romance had been quick and hot, and still was. “I think it's an adjustment for them. Jane has a very sweet, very intelligent partner. When I last saw her, she promised to try and make it right with Jane for me. And I think she did. Liz wasn't shocked about us at all.” He smiled at her, looking sympathetic about her daughter. From everything he knew of her himself and had heard in the business, Jane Barrington was hell on wheels.

“My age must have come as something of a shock,” he said simply. “I never think about it when I'm with you.” He smiled at her, and kissed her neck, well aware of her cleavage in the silk shirt, which was hard to ignore. He loved the way she dressed, and how sexy and elegant she was at the same time. She was the most seductive woman he had ever known. “I always feel like we're the same age.” He said all the right things, and Florence believed them. Maybe it was crazy, but she was sure he was sincere. And Liz was right. If she were a man, no one would care, in fact they'd approve and envy her.

“Jane will be fine,” she reassured him again. “She has other things on her mind right now. She's up to her ears in headaches and union problems on location with a film. Our little romance is going to be the last thing on her mind.” Not to mention the baby, which he knew nothing about, and hopefully wouldn't for a long time. They might even be married by then. Gabriel had been talking about it all summer, and Florence loved the idea. The only stumbling block they'd had to overcome was the girls. And she wasn't about to upset them even further by talking marriage. She wanted them to get to know him, and hoped they would calm down.

For the rest of dinner they talked about the movie he was working on. She had been going over scripts with him for months, and had given him excellent advice. They worked well as a team. In fact, they were a great match at everything they did. She noticed a few people glance at her enviously as they finished dinner. Other women looked at her, stared at Gabriel, then back at her with open admiration, or so she thought. No one had ever referred to him as her son. And he looked slightly older than he was. The difference between them looked more like ten years than twenty-four. And a woman with a man ten years younger was fairly common these days. Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher had forged the way for couples such as theirs. She was to be envied, or so she thought, not criticized or shunned.

They went back to her place afterward, as they usually did. He stayed with her most nights now, and had for the past several months. And once in a while, when they wanted to do something special, they spent the weekend at the Bel-Air Hotel. When they stayed there, Gabriel always paid. He never let Florence pay for anything for him, except random gifts. He had given her a diamond bracelet for their six-month anniversary, and he was hoping to give her an engagement ring sometime in the next year, but she didn't know about that yet. He had already picked one out. He was hoping her daughters would have met and approved of him by then. He didn't want to tear their family apart, but he was madly in love with their mother, for better or worse. He thought she was terrific.

Gabriel stretched out on her bed as though he owned it, and by now, he did, just as he owned her. Discovering sex with him had been an experience like no other in her life. It had never been this good in her thirty-six years with Buzz, even when they were young. Gabriel was an incredible lover. He had recently told his own mother about their affair, and she had been just as upset as Jane. But she was also beginning to understand that there was nothing she could do about it. Gabriel said he was in love with her and had made up his mind. And she knew her son well. She knew that nothing she could do would sway Gabriel from what or whom he wanted. He was the most persistent man in the world. He had been that way with Florence too, when she resisted him at first. But she didn't for long. She had given in and abandoned herself to the myriad pleasures they shared. Sex wasn't the most important on that list, although it mattered, but he loved talking to her, laughing with her, listening to her, holding her for hours on end after they made love. He loved everything about her, her mind, her body, her style, her strength, her fame, her reputation, and her enormous talent. She was a woman like no other, beyond compare. He had expected to feel insignificant with her, but instead she pulled him up to her level in so many ways. He was learning so much from her, about writing, discipline, talent, humor. Thanks to her, his writing had already improved immeasurably, as had his directing. He could tell, and Florence noticed it too. He felt as though he were worshipping at the feet of the master, and in many ways he was.

As he lay in bed with her that night, he took off her sexy gold sandals and tossed them to the floor. The white jeans and turquoise silk shirt were next. She was wearing a thong and a lacy pale blue bra, and he smiled as he looked at her.

“There isn't a sexier woman alive,” he said, admiring her. Her body was still slim and tight. She worked out with one of the best trainers in town now every day. Making love with Gabriel every night gave her motivation. And she had taught him things he never knew.