One Day at a Time (21 page)

“I'll try to keep my schedule as free as possible, but I'll have to be on the set some of the time. You can be there with me if you like.” He didn't want to be away from her for a minute, and hoped the producer and director didn't want too much of his time. He was going to do as much of it as he could before she arrived.

“See how it goes once you start. I can wait at the hotel.” They were going to be at the Bel-Air, where they had spent the night when she had gone to L.A. with him before. “I can visit my mother if she's not too busy or working on a book.” Coco knew that if she was writing, she wouldn't see anyone at all. “I'll call her once you know your plans. You're my priority while I'm there, not my mom,” she said, smiling at him, and his heart melted again.

Their last night together was sweet and tender. They made love several times, and Coco lay in bed awake at dawn, watching the sun come up, as Leslie slept in her arms. She couldn't imagine being there now without him. It was going to be so lonely, and even the house in Bolinas wouldn't be the same. He was part of everything now, and had become inextricably woven into the fabric of her life. But she also knew that his life was far bigger than hers. He had other things to do. The time they had shared in the house on Broadway had been a precious gift. She was grateful to Jane for that, even if she had little faith in what they meant to each other, or what would happen next. She had sent Coco a text message apologizing for shooting her mouth off, as she always did. And Coco had responded, thanking her, but they hadn't spoken to each other again. Her conversation with Leslie had the effect he wanted from it for Coco. Jane had backed off, which was easier for them at least. He didn't give a damn about what Jane thought, only about what she said to Coco. He didn't want Jane upsetting her anymore. And Liz had suggested she let it rest for a while too. Jane was busy anyway finishing up in New York.

Coco had helped Leslie pack the night before. And the car and driver came much too soon. He had production meetings on the set that day and had stayed with her until the last minute. He was catching a nine a.m. flight, and had to leave the house by seven-thirty He stood in the doorway kissing her for a last time.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, smiling at her. “I'll see you soon. I'll call you later, when I have a break. And you'll be in L.A. in a few days.” He said it to reassure himself as much as Coco. He hated leaving her.

“I love you, Leslie,” she said simply, suddenly aware that he no longer belonged just to her. He was going back to his own world, where others owned him too. Producers, directors, film companies, fans, agents, friends. Like it or not, she had to share him now.

“I love you too,” he responded, kissed her one last time, and hurried toward the car. He couldn't miss his flight. The producer had offered to send a plane for him, but it seemed unnecessary and he had said he would take a commercial flight, just like everyone else. And since Coco wouldn't be with him, he didn't have to worry about protecting her from prying eyes.

She waved as the town car drove away, and he stuck an arm out the window and blew her kisses as they headed toward Divisadero, turned right, and disappeared.

She walked back into the house, wanting to cry. She went upstairs and lay down on their bed, which she would be returning to her sister and Liz soon. It wouldn't be the same without Leslie now anyway. She got up finally and put on a sweatshirt and jeans. She had to go to work. All she could think of now was him. She felt as though someone had ripped half her heart away.

He called her from the airport while she was walking the big dogs. She was out of breath from running, and he was about to board the plane.

“Don't forget I love you!” he reminded her.

“Me too,” she said, smiling. They talked for a few minutes until he was seated in first class, and the flight attendant told him to turn off his phone.

She went through all the motions of what had once been her life, and now seemed like nothing without him. She wondered how only four months before she had thought this was enough. It no longer was.

She walked all the dogs on her schedule, and went downtown at four o'clock. She had shopping to do. If she was going to meet him in L.A., she had to look respectable. It had been years since she owned clothes like that. She stayed downtown until the stores closed, and returned with a van full of shopping bags. She had even bought two suitcases to put them in. When she met him in L.A., she was going to make him proud.

Chapter 12

The plane took off from San Francisco airport at ten A.M. She
was landing at LAX at eleven, and Leslie was meeting her at the Bel-Air Hotel at noon. He was sending a car and driver to the airport for her. He was hoping to spend two hours with her at lunch-time between meetings, and then he had to go back. They were planning to stay in that night. But the next day he was going to a dinner the producer was giving for the whole cast and major stars. Leslie was taking her with him. It was at the producer's home. It would be their first glimpse of the cast of the movie they were making, and there was a star-studded cast, of which Leslie was the biggest of all. It was going to be Coco's debut, going out with him in an important way. She had bought a sexy black cocktail dress to wear and gorgeous new high heels.

The car and driver were waiting for her at LAX as promised, and picked up her bags. They sped to the Bel-Air Hotel while she tried not to think of what might happen the next day, and concentrated on seeing Leslie instead. She wondered if he'd be different here. Maybe even in the past few days, everything would have changed. What if Jane was right? It was Coco's worst fear.

They had an even bigger suite at the Bel-Air this time, and the same swans were there, swimming in the stream, and wandering the grounds. The hotel was peaceful, and the room was spectacular. She was still looking around after they set down her bags, when she heard the door open and turned to see Leslie beaming at her. He had been terrified she'd change her mind and cancel at the last minute, and he took her in his arms with such force he knocked the breath out of her. They were like two long-lost children who had found each other after a war. The past four days had been agony for both of them.

“I thought you'd never come!” he said, squeezing her tight, and then holding her away so he could look at her. She looked very grown up. She was wearing jeans with a soft white sweater that showed off her figure, a suede jacket, and sexy high heels. Her hair was brushed long, and there were tiny diamond earrings on her ears. He had never seen her that dressed up, and was impressed to see what good taste she had and how well she put herself together. Even when they had gone out to dinner in San Francisco, they had both been casual. He had never seen Coco look that way before. “Wow!” he said with admiration. “You're a knockout!”

“I feel like Cinderella at the ball. I may turn into a pumpkin any minute.”

“Well, if you do, you're my pumpkin, and I will chase you all over the kingdom with the glass slipper.” Her shoes were Louboutin and worthy of any star. As a connoisseur of stylish women, he recognized the signature red soles. “I like the ones you're wearing, by the way.” He was full of admiration and praise of her. And he looked wonderful to her too. He was wearing one of his perfectly tailored custom-made English shirts, jeans, and alligator loafers, with a cashmere sweater over his shoulders. He'd had a haircut, and they had put a rinse in his hair to cover the few wisps of gray. It was even darker than before. He looked like the Leslie Baxter she had seen on the screen a hundred times before. But his eyes told her he was hers. That was all she wanted to know.

She complimented him on the fancy room, which he said was courtesy of the producer. “He said we can use his house in Malibu for the weekend. We should be private there. It's in the Colony, so we'll be secluded.” He had thought of everything to make her happy and keep them safe from prying eyes. He poured them each a glass of champagne. “To our future,” he said happily and then kissed her. She helped herself to a giant strawberry and fed one to him, and ten minutes later they were in bed. It seemed like centuries since she had been in his arms, and they both wanted to make up for lost time. They never got around to ordering lunch, and he had to rush back to the studio for another meeting to address the director's changes in the script. Coco got into the bath as he left, and he promised to be back by six.

She called her mother that afternoon, and her secretary told Coco that she was writing a new book. Coco didn't say she was in L.A., and she spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the grounds and reading a book she had brought with her. The weather was warm, and Leslie came back an hour late at seven. They stayed in the room that night and ordered dinner, watched TV, and talked about his meeting. He liked the cast and the producer, he knew the director and said he was difficult but usually got great results. He had worked with him before. They weren't starting in earnest until they got to Venice. He complained a little about one of his costars, and he commented that Madison Allbright, the female lead, who Coco knew was a megastar, was a very pretty girl.

“Should I be worried?” she asked, as they lay on the couch in the living room of the suite, with his head in her lap. She was stroking his hair, and he looked like a sleepy cat as he lay there, nearly purring with pleasure. He had missed her incredibly in the past four days.

“You don't need to worry about anything or anyone,” he reassured her. “I'm the one who should be worried, the way you looked when you arrived.” She had hung all her new clothes in the closet, and had sent the cocktail dress out to be pressed, so it would be impeccable for the producer's party the following night. Leslie hadn't told her yet that there would be press at the party. He didn't want to scare her. But there was no reason to worry. As far as they knew, she was just a date. It was only after they'd seen her a few times that they would catch on that this was a hot item, and she was his new romance. His psychotic ex-girlfriend was already engaged, so that was ancient history and of no interest anymore. Their brief alliance had been typical of Hollywood romances that came and went, even though it had been more troublesome than most, but at least he had managed to keep that out of the press, despite her statements and accusations that he was gay. Everyone had forgotten that by now.

They went to bed early since he had an early meeting, and Chloe called them before they fell asleep. She was up late with a babysitter, she said, her mother was out. She had started school that day and told them all about it. She was in first grade, and said she already had lots of friends. She reported to Coco that the pink bear named after her was doing well. For Coco, it was a taste of their summer idyll to talk to her again.

They both slept like tired children in the comfortable bed, and the operator woke them at seven the next morning. Leslie had to be at the studio no later than eight that morning, and he had a long day ahead. He told her with regret that he wouldn't be able to meet her for lunch as they were working straight through till six or seven, to address all of the director's notes for them. The party they were attending was scheduled to start at eight. Leslie was coming back to change and pick her up. And she said she'd be dressed by then. She was planning to get her hair done that afternoon.

“Will you be all right today?” he asked, looking worried as he finished breakfast. He had a cup of coffee to wake him up, while she drank tea.

“I'll be fine.” She smiled at him. “I'll do some shopping and go to the museum.” It had once been her city, and she knew it well. There were old friends she could have seen, but she didn't want to. She came here so seldom now that she had lost touch with most of them. And her life was very different than her classmates who had turned into Beverly Hills housewives, or were in the entertainment field now themselves, either acting or producing. She was one of the few who had fled. Most of them loved L.A.

Leslie kissed her goodbye when he left, and told her that he had ordered a car and driver for her. She showered and dressed and left the hotel herself at ten. No one paid any attention to her since there was nothing to link her to Leslie yet. She was still an anonymous civilian as she wandered in and out of shops on Melrose, ate lunch at Fred Segal, and went to the L.A. County Museum of Art. She was at the hairdresser at the hotel by four o'clock, and back in their room by six. She had just enough time to bathe, do her makeup, and dress, before Leslie walked in promptly at seven. He looked exhausted and was carrying his dog-eared script with a million jotted notes on it. They were getting new scripts the next day, which would include all the changes they'd just made. He had a lot of complicated lines to learn.

“How was your day?” he asked when he kissed her. It was a thrill for him to see her when he finished work. She was the peace and haven he came to, to seek refuge from the pressures he lived with when he was working. He loved having her be part of his normal life. It was everything he had hoped for when they talked about it, and he had never dared to dream.

“It was fun,” Coco said, looking relaxed and happy, as he smiled admiringly at what she was wearing. She had on a thong, a black lace bra, her earrings, and high-heeled shoes, and her hair looked long and smooth. She was going to put her dress on at the last minute so she didn't crease it before that.

“Nice dress,” he teased her, admiring her long shapely legs and perfect figure. He thought she looked fantastic. She had had a manicure and pedicure at the hairdresser too. Even before she put her dress on, she looked beautiful and sophisticated. The dog-walker he'd fallen in love with in San Francisco had transformed into a swan. He loved the original version, but he had to admit, he liked this one too.

He rushed into the bathroom to shower and shave, and he emerged a few minutes later, freshly shaven, with wet hair, buttoning an impeccable white shirt. He put on black slacks, a black cashmere blazer, and black alligator loafers, and while he was dressing, she put on the black cocktail dress. It was both sexy and demure, just low enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, but covered enough to be discreet. She looked so beautiful she took his breath away, and they stood admiring each other with a look of pleasure. It was the first night they were going out in public together in Leslie's world.