by Jill Downey
Her heart was ready to burst. He seemed so vulnerable, in complete contrast to the man she’d painted him to be. Had it only been weeks ago? He laid down the final notes then swiveled around to face her. He pulled her to him and held her, resting his head against her belly as she cradled him.
“That was so beautiful. Thank you,” Penelope said.
He didn’t answer, just stood and picked her up into his arms and carried her back to bed.
26
The following morning Penelope awoke to the smell of bacon frying. She opened her eyes and stretched out like a cat. Her face flushed remembering their lovemaking from the night before. She’d never had multiple orgasms until now. Griffin was an incredibly attentive lover and her body felt sore in a good way.
After brushing her teeth, she found one of his tee shirts in the dresser drawer and pulled it over her head. Slipping on her panties, she followed her nose to the kitchen. As she passed by the baby grand piano, she ran her fingers lightly over the keys, evoking the magic from the night before.
“How long have you been playing?” she asked.
“My whole life. We all play. Our mother insisted. Not to brag, I mean I wouldn’t want to intimidate you or anything, but when I was fifteen, I started a band at boarding school. I played lead guitar and we played together all through high school. We called ourselves the Outsiders. All the fourteen- and fifteen-year-old girls were in love with us.” He grinned broadly, as he dropped four slices of bread into the toaster.
His mood was light this morning, the melancholy of the dark hours of the night seemingly quelled. “So, you’re telling me you were some catch, even back then,” she said, laughing.
“Something like that. How do you like your eggs?”
“I’m not picky.”
“I’ll scramble them then.”
She sidled up to the kitchen island and sat on the tall stool. Griffin placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of her. “Cream or sugar?”
“Cream please.”
“Tell me when.”
When it was the color of caramel, she said, “That’s good.”
“Do you want to shower here, or do you need to go home first?”
“I need to go home. I need a change of clothes and we can’t show up together.”
He buttered her toast and placed a plate with a mound of scrambled eggs and way too much bacon in front of her. “Thanks Griffin, looks delicious.”
“Not as luscious as you look, all sleep tumbled, soft dreamy bedroom eyes, I wish we didn’t have to leave the house for the next week.”
She sighed, “Me too.”
She dug in and in no time at all was polishing off the last bite of bacon and pushing her plate aside. “Looks like I won’t have enough time to do the dishes. Too bad.” She grinned, not the least bit sorry.
“As if…” he dazzled her with his smile before kissing her full on the lips. “Man, those lips were made for kissing.”
Her eyes flickered with desire. “We’d better leave soon, or we’ll never make it out of here.”
“I’m ready, I’ll drop you off and come back to shower.”
Once in the car, they held hands all the way to the beach house. After he dropped her off, Penelope felt an ache in her chest. What was happening to her?
Penelope was practically floating from the weekend, so when she and Dolly pulled up to work, she was mentally unprepared for the small crowd of tourists loitering around the front entrance. So far, production had been successful in keeping their filming locations under wraps. The non-disclosures had been effective. No leaks. Until now. Because the location was off the beaten path, most paparazzi wouldn’t waste their time. But it was bound to happen, and when she spied a couple of professional photographers in the group, her thoughts immediately went to Jack. Damn.
Penelope slid way down in her seat, practically sitting on the floor, and pulled her cap low over her forehead. Glancing at her watch she noted that they were still a half hour early.
“Can we sneak in the back door?” Penelope asked.
“I’ll drive around and check it out. Stay down.”
The paps weren’t stupid and when they saw a car slow down, then suddenly change directions they pursued. “Shit shit shit!” Dolly said. “They’re following.”
“Just turn around and pull up close to the front door. I’m afraid the back door will be locked. I’ll hop out and run in and you can park the car.”
Dolly parked right in front and said, “Now!” She giggled as Penelope contorted her body like a crab to try and escape from the car without being discovered. “Hurry! They’re descending upon us.”
“Easy for you to say.” Keeping her body below the window height was damn near impossible. She managed to open the door and fell out of the car. Dolly was snorting with laughter as Penelope scrambled quickly to her feet and ran for the entrance.
The tourists had their cells out snapping photos and selfies with Penelope darting inside as their backdrop.
Still breathing heavy from her sprint, Penelope swiped her card and entered her dressing room, flipping on the overhead lights. She stepped on something crunchy and looked down to see another manilla envelope under her foot. Filled with dread she bent over to pick it up.
She took in several deep breaths. Her hands were shaking so badly, she wasn’t sure she could open the envelope. She examined it closely, looking for a return address or any clues that could point to the sender. None. Same neatly scripted writing as before. How had Jack managed to slip past security? Did security even stick around on the weekends?
Her heart pounded in her chest as she slid her finger under the flap and ripped open the envelope. She reached inside and pulled out a handful of photographs. The room spun as her stomach lurched. She threw the photos down and ran to the bathroom making it just in time before she began to retch.
Kneeling in front of the commode, her breath came in rapid shallow bursts as she fought to control the anxiety and her gag reflex. Who had sent them…and why? She had so carefully buried her past. Why now? Slow deep breaths…her nausea dissipated.
When she was sure the sickness had passed, she splashed her face with cold water and brushed her teeth. She had to hide the incriminating photos before Dolly arrived.
She picked up the offending pictures, her face heating with shame as she shuffled through the half dozen photographs. Her on the arms of various powerful men. A lifetime ago, but now the memories rushed back like it was yesterday.
She fought as the bile rose again, burning the back of her throat. She looked so young and innocent. Well, that’s because you were, Penelope, you were barely nineteen years old for God’s sake. She heard someone outside the door and quickly stuffed the photos back into the envelope and hid it in her bag.
“I brought you a coffee and a donut from the buffet,” Dolly said, handing her a to-go coffee container and a white paper bag. Penelope tried to smile her thanks, but it was half-hearted at best.
Dolly looked at her friend with concern, her forehead furrowed, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, my stomach is upset. I’m sure it’s from the narrow escape.”
“Are you sure that’s all it is? Your face has absolutely no color. Should we call the doctor?”
“No, I’ll be fine. I just need a few minutes.”
Dolly’s eyes narrowed, “You were fine when you spilled out of the car. What happened between then and now?”
“Please, just drop it,” she said, more sharply than she’d intended to. Dolly winced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out so bitchy.”
“No worries. You’ve had a lot to deal with lately.”
“There is something I’d like to confide with you, but not now and not here. I’ve got to get it together for the shoot this morning. I promise we’ll talk tonight.”
“Okay…if you’re sure it can wait.”
“I’m sure.”
Dolly stared deeply into h
er friend’s eyes, then slowly nodded her head.
“Let’s get that makeup plastered on then,” Dolly said.
Griffin walked onto the set without a minute to spare. His eyes scanned the room until he settled on the only one that mattered. Penelope. She was so beautiful. He’d felt at a loss after he’d dropped her off. Like part of himself was missing. He hated the feeling. It was another brand new experience, compliments of Ms. Winters. This craving he had for her wasn’t welcome.
He walked over to Penelope and she barely glanced at him, keeping her eyes lowered.
“Hey, you ready for the big fight scene?”
She shrugged one shoulder, not meeting his gaze, “I guess.”
“Something wrong?”
“Just not feeling very well this morning.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” He said, frustrated by the limitations of keeping their relationship under wraps. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and make her look at him. Instead she abruptly turned away, leaving him staring at her backside. Fuck me.
“Is this how it’s going to be? One step forward two steps back?” He knew he sounded aggressive, but in that moment, he didn’t give a shit. He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable with her and now she was shutting him out.
Quietly, she said, “Quit pushing me, I said I’m tired, drop it.”
He came up close behind her and whispered in her ear, “Really Penelope?” He felt her stiffen.
“What am I missing? Because when I dropped you at your door an hour and a half ago, you were anything but detached.”
“We can talk later, okay?” she said, not bothering to turn her head.
His jaw clenched and he was ready to argue with her some more, but Stew called out “Places,” and it was showtime.
“Sydney, look at me.” She kept her head lowered; arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Your husband is on to us. I’m sure those threatening messages came from his camp.”
“We don’t know that for sure.”
“I’m sure enough. We need to stop seeing each other.”
Her eyebrow arched, “And you can do that so easily?”
“Don’t twist it around. For God’s sake Sydney, this isn’t some game. Your husband is a very powerful man. A United States Senator…with connections and access to surveillance that we could only imagine.”
“Is that all that I mean to you? Was I just some pathetic lonely politician’s wife you felt sorry for? Someone you saw needed a good fucking?”
“You know it was more than that…so much more,” Bryan grabbed her chin and tilted her head up, gazing intently into her eyes. “It was for me anyway.”
Her eyes welled with tears and she impatiently brushed them away. “I want to leave my husband. I just don’t see how! But I can’t do this anymore. I want to be with you. I love you.”
His heart lurched in his chest…for real…you’re Bryan dude…not Griffin…
“I love you too Syd, you’ve got to believe me, but I don’t want to break up your marriage and I really don’t want to be on some politician’s hit list. That threat was real.”
He pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. The passion ignited, going from zero to sixty in a breath. Bending her back over his arm, he plundered her mouth. She clenched her fingers in his hair, groaning against his lips. He lifted his mouth and buried his face into her neck.
“We can run away. Hide out until it’s blown over. Don’t leave me Bryan.”
Bryan’s eyes darted around the room. “I’m getting so paranoid, I’m afraid we’re being recorded right now.”
Her eyes filled with tears again. “Hold me Bryan, just hold me.” He held her tightly against his chest while she cried.
“When does he go out of town next?”
“Next week, he’ll be campaigning with the presidential nominee, and it’s possible they’ll announce that he’s the VP pick.”
“Text me after he’s gone, and we’ll set up a meeting time. Somewhere safe.”
“Yes, thank you Bryan. We can make this work, I know it!”
“I love you Sydney, no matter what happens, I always will.”
“I love you too.” She brushed his hair back from his brow, kissing him softly on the lips. “I’ll text you the minute I can. Please stay safe and watch your back. I don’t think he’d ever follow through with those threats, but I need you to be safe.”
“Believe me, I’m on high alert. I’ll see you next week. I think its best if we don’t make any contact until then.”
“I agree, but I don’t like it.”
He kissed her one last time and exited the room.
“Cut!” Stewart called. “Brilliant! You guys are on fire. You’re making my job easy.”
Griffin came back through the door, and stood apart, leaning against the door frame, waiting for further instructions from their director.
He studied Penelope; she seemed so off, aloof, guarded, walls up, untouchable…yet she still put in an amazing performance. Real tears and all. Even though he was pissed as hell, he was still impressed with her acting chops.
He wasn’t about to let her get away with this blow-off without an explanation. He’d corner her soon. This was bullshit. He deserved a ‘fuck you get lost’ at least. He’d take that any day of the week over this cold, unresponsive ice maiden.
“If there’s nothing else Stew, I’m out of here.”
“Sure thing, see you tomorrow morning.”
Penelope didn’t even look at him as he turned on his heel and left fuming.
27
Penelope was sitting outside when Dolly found her. Handing her a glass of wine, Dolly sat down next to her on the wicker couch, curling her feet up beneath her. Penelope had been dreading this conversation all day. Other than her mom, she’d never told a living soul about this dark stain on her past.
Dolly touched her arm, “Hey, if this is too much, we can postpone it until you’re ready.”
“No, I need someone to talk to. I’m scared Dolly.”
Dolly’s face was etched with concern. “Okay, I’m listening.”
Penelope hugged herself tightly, her bottom lip trembling. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Take your time, breathe.”
Taking a steadying breath, she began, “I guess I’ll start at the beginning. I left Ohio for the bright lights of Hollywood when I was eighteen. Big dreams. I’d saved all my tip money from waitressing the summer before senior year. I had two thousand dollars to my name.” She bit her lip.
“You were so young, just a baby,” Dolly said. “How brave you were.”
“Mom had just remarried, and I couldn’t wait to get out of the house. I felt like an interloper, not that they tried to make me feel that way, a new marriage…they needed time alone, just as a couple.”
“Makes sense to me.”
“We didn’t have the money to send me to college and I had my heart set on acting anyway. I’d always landed every leading role in high school and community theatre. I got cast in my first play when I was eight. I got bit by the acting bug early.”
“I can see a little adorable tow-headed Penelope, nailing her performance.”
Penelope smiled sadly. “Yeah, always determined.”
“So, then you landed in LA?”
“Yes, I stayed in a youth hostel, posting everywhere looking for a roommate. Found one the first week, Camille was her name, also an actress from Missouri, she was twenty-one and so cool.” Penelope rolled her eyes. “So much older and wiser than me.”
“I went to every casting call I could find, walk-on parts, extras, stand-ins you name it. I found a job waitressing at a trendy LA diner, made great tips but not enough to cover the cost of living in LA.” Penelope paused, taking a deep breath. “This is where it gets hard.”
“It’s okay, I won’t judge.”
“One night Camille came home all excited. She had been approached at the bar where she worked by some big-wig from one of the major studios.
He had a proposition for her, said she could make great money, one to five thousand dollars for a few hours of work.”
Penelope paused, her throat tight with unshed tears. “I’m not sure I can go on.”
Dolly reached for her hand and held on tight. “You’re trembling! Oh honey, there is nothing you could say that would make me change my opinion about you.”
She impatiently brushed at her eyes. She whispered, “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“No matter what it is we’ll figure it out,” Dolly said firmly. “Why don’t you try again?”
Penelope sat up and grabbed a tissue from the side table and blew her nose loudly, which made them both smile.
“Where was I?”
“Your roommate met with a studio head…that’s as far as you got.”
“Right…” Sighing, she tentatively began again. “The executive told her all she had to do was accompany some of his friends, clients, benefactors, he was running a little side business…perks if you will. When they needed an escort, he supplied them. Basically, all she had to do was to be their date, get wined and dined and come away with a boatload of cash, under the table of course.”
“If it sounds too good to be true…” Dolly interjected.
“Exactly, but she was twenty-one years old…from Missouri! I was just shy of nineteen and backward. Small-town syndrome.” Her gaze took on a faraway look, remembering. “She was over the moon. She promised if it went well, she’d put in a good word for me.”
“And I’m guessing it went well?”
“More than well, she was making a ton of money and having fun doing it. Going to parties, campaign fundraisers, film premieres, I mean she was a gorgeous young girl. They often specifically requested her.”