Dreaming With A Broken Heart (Hollywood Legends #1)

by Mary J. Williams

  Jade reached up, pulling out the pins that held her hair rigidly in place. She sighed with relief when the thick tendrils fell onto her shoulders and down her back. That was better. The loose, red strands were symbolic of the new Jade. In the past, she would have picked up a comb. Not today. She liked the slightly wild look, the not-so-perfect style. The new Jade.

  With a nod at her reflection, Jade grabbed her purse. Come what may, she was ready to meet the great Callie Flynn head on.

  “Miss Marlow?”

  Jade sighed. Not three steps out of her bedroom before the maid was dogging her. There was always someone waiting. Where was this person when Stephen was slicing her up like a demented butcher? Why wouldn’t her father give her some privacy? What the hell did he think she was going to do?

  Straightening her shoulders, a small, pleasant smile plastered on her face, Jade turned.

  “Yes?”

  “Your father is asking for you.”

  “Did he say what he wanted?”

  That threw the girl. Jade never asked questions. When her father summoned, Jade jumped. Why he called for her didn’t matter. The fact was he called.

  Dressed in her crisp black and white uniform, the young maid’s eyes darted around. Clearly in a panic, she searched for someone to help. Jade knew the girl was on her own. There was no need to post guards. One unimportant maid was enough. It was her job to watch, pass on messages, and report. Anson Marlow had no reason to think Jade would question anything. It was obvious the maid had no idea how to answer when a question was asked.

  Taking pity on the girl, Jade gave her a friendly smile. The staff was almost entirely new. With only two exceptions, her father had replaced anyone who was here during her marriage to Stephen. Half of them were afraid of her, half pitied her. Most were worried the rumor about her precarious mental health was a fact — not fiction. Judging from the look the maid gave her, the woman fell into the latter camp.

  “Please tell my father I’m late for an appointment. I will speak with him when I get back.”

  “Oh, but…”

  Not waiting, Jade proceeded down the stairs, the maid right on her heels. When they reached the landing, Jade kept on going.

  “Don’t worry,” she called, not bothering to turn around. “My father won’t fire you.”

  Jade had no idea if that was true. Reassuring the woman seemed like the easiest way to get out the door without any interruption. If she found out that her father had terminated the maid’s employment, Jade would find her another job. One where she didn’t have to stand outside a bedroom door, polishing the same table, waiting for the crazy woman to emerge.

  Jade paused, letting the sun wash over her. When she had her own place, the one thing she would insist on was some outdoor space. Not too big. A balcony. As long as she could sit with the sun’s heat on her face. She had spent too much time in the dark the past few years. A few flowers would be nice. Tended by her, not an army of gardeners whose noses got out of joint when she pulled a weed or picked a rose. God forbid those things be done out of sequence. Whatever that meant.

  Soon, Jade thought. Soon there would be no one to answer to but herself.

  An image of Garrett popped into Jade’s mind. She kept him in the dark. Hiding her body. All these months, his patience and caring helped chase away the shadows. Whenever she started to slip back, she would picture him. He kept her sane. Still, she wasn’t able to let him turn on the lights when they were together. She felt his growing frustration. Very soon, there would come a time when he would insist.

  Would she agree? Would she walk away? Could she do either? Jade didn’t know the answer. With a shake of her head, she set those worries aside. Now, her only thought should be about getting through tea with Callie Flynn.

  Walking was an option Jade might have considered at another time. Today, the heat and her heels made the decision an easy one. She walked around the side of the house in the opposite direction of the multi-car garage. There was no chance of getting away unnoticed if she tried to drive herself. As with every other aspect of his household, her father insisted on doing things a certain way. He employed a system that he left others to oversee. Rule number one: Jade couldn’t take a car without Anson Marlow’s permission.

  Jade used to tip Julio, her father’s driver/mechanic, to let her sneak her car out. He was one of the staff sympathetic to her situation. She hated that they thought of her as that poor little rich girl. Still, she wasn’t above using it to her advantage. That was before Stephen. Now, Julio was gone. His replacement couldn’t be bribed. He was convinced Jade shouldn’t be driving. Not with her fragile nerves. It was frustrating — humiliating. So, she stopped trying. If she left the house on her own, she called a cab.

  The taxi service was on speed dial. She used them so often and tipped so well, she was guaranteed a ride within an hour — no matter where she was in the city. Here in Beverly Hills, the wait was never more than twenty minutes. Seeing her ride, Jade slipped into the back seat.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Marlow.”

  “How are you, Troy?”

  “Great. Business is booming. Where can I take you today?”

  “Not far.”

  She gave him the address. Being so familiar with a cab driver might seem strange to most people. To Jade, it made perfect sense. Over the past six months, Troy had practically become her personal driver.

  At first, when he kept turning up, Jade was suspicious. Was he a reporter using the taxi service as a cover? She was a hot story. Magazines, newspapers, television shows. They all wanted interviews. The more the salacious the details, the better. The answer was no when it happened. It would remain no.

  Jade hoped the interest would fade away. So far, no such luck. Reporters tried everything. They weren’t permanent fixtures outside the house anymore. Her father put an end to that. He always had someone to call who owed him a favor. Still the offers persisted. As did the pop-up paparazzi.

  She figured if Troy were going to write a story, it would have happened by now. Jade decided he was exactly what he seemed. A kind, middle-aged man who took her where she requested, asked no questions, and was satisfied with her very generous tips.

  “I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”

  The cab drove through the gates. Jade’s name opened them without question. The mansion owned by Callie Flynn and Caleb Landis was legendary. Built in Hollywood’s early days by a silent screen goddess, subsequent owners were legends in their own right. Now, the walls housed the town’s reigning king and queen.

  Jade took a deep breath. She couldn’t get the thought out of her head that this meeting was more than a casual get-together. Why now? They lived in the same neighborhood all of Jade’s life. Suddenly, Callie Flynn wanted to be friends?

  “Give me a call when you’re ready,” Troy said. He turned, smiling. “I’ve had a thing for Callie Flynn since I saw her in Moonglow.”

  “You and every man with a pulse.” Jade wondered what it was like to have that kind of instant appeal.

  “She’s even more beautiful now. I love a woman who isn’t afraid to age gracefully.” Troy gave the kind of sigh a man gave when he knew the object of his desire was way, way out of his league.

  “If every woman aged as well as Callie Flynn,” Jade laughed, “they wouldn’t be afraid either.”

  Troy sighed again, pulling his gaze away from the door of the Landis home. He smiled at Jade. “Like I said, call me. I’ll be around.”

  Jade watched the taxi drive away. Was she a coward to wish she were in the back seat, her visit over? With a shrug, she turned. Don’t be a baby, she admonished herself. What was the worst that could happen? You could blurt out that Garrett is your lover. Now, isn’t that what every mother wants to hear when she’s serving afternoon tea?

  Before she could ring the doorbell, Jade felt her phone vibrate. She turned off the ringer before leaving home. Unless there was some potential emergency looming, it seemed rude to get a phone call when visi
ting.

  Jade opened her bag to glance at the lighted screen. Her father. She could imagine what he wanted. Where are you? He would demand. Why did you leave when you knew I wanted to speak to you?

  She ignored the call. For most of Jade’s life, Anson Marlow could have cared less where she was or whom she was with. Since her return from the hospital, he was like a child experiencing separation anxiety. All of it done under the watchful eyes of other people. Was there such a thing as clinginess by proxy?

  Either way, Jade knew her father wasn’t worried about her. His fear was her going rogue. What if she talked to the wrong people? He didn’t want all the money he had spent on spin control to be wasted. Since Stephen’s disappearance, Anson Marlow controlled what was said and who said it. The little bits of information that were leaked never contained a word he hadn’t approved. According to the reports, Jade was recovering nicely. Her charitable activities, always important, were once again a priority in her life. Accompanying these little blurbs were flattering photographs. Jade always looked serene. Almost happy.

  As far as the world was concerned, Jade Marlow was fully recovered. She was once more Anson Marlow’s pampered, privileged daughter. Everything was back to normal. Only a select few knew the truth. In the Marlow home, normal was all kinds of fucked up. It always had been. Only now, thanks to Stephen Marsh, her father’s complicity, and Jade’s willingness to play the victim, another layer of shit had been added.

  What her father didn’t see or understand was that Jade was changing. She was getting stronger every day. Inch by inch, she was shoveling her way out. For the first time in her life, she knew what fresh air smelled like and no matter what, she was never going to fall in that putrid hole again.

  Jade didn’t just ignore the call; she turned the phone off. It might be petty, but she liked the idea of her father’s frustration when she didn’t pick up. He considered voice mail an insult to his position in life. Jade smiled. A small victory, yet a satisfying one.

  The front door opened before Jade could ring the bell. Expecting a butler or maid, she was taken aback to come face to face with none other than Callie Flynn.

  “Jade,” the woman said as she reached for Jade’s hand. “Come in.”

  Without a word, Jade let herself be pulled into the house. A few details registered. The marble floors, cathedral ceilings. Nothing new there. This was Beverly Hills. The color caught Jade’s attention. Pops of cheery yellow, vibrant blue and vivid red accented the foyer in a way Jade had never seen before. Her eye was drawn to an abstract painting on one wall, a rug near another. In front of a large mirror, there were flowers in every color in the rainbow.

  “I was so happy when you agreed to come over. I know it was last minute.”

  “I was surprised.”

  “Of course you were.” Callie didn’t stop, leading Jade past a long staircase, through what appeared to be a library, and then outside. “Why, we’re practically neighbors and this is the first time you’ve been in my home. If I let myself, I would be ashamed.”

  The words struck Jade as slightly ridiculous, causing an uncontrollable laugh to escape past her lips. Horrified, Jade quickly apologized.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t laughing at you.

  “I don’t know why not,” Callie told her with a gentle smile. “I tend to speak my mind. Sometimes that horrifies people; sometimes it amuses them. I much prefer the latter. You have a lovely laugh, Jade. Never be afraid to use it.”

  Jade was dazzled. Not by the beautiful garden. Or the green lawns that seemed to go on forever. No, Callie Flynn left Jade breathless. A true movie star in an era when that distinction was becoming rarer and rarer There was a glow that seemed to beam from beneath her skin. Callie wore little makeup; her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun. She wore a loose sundress the color of cornflowers and no shoes. She was the most beautiful woman Jade had ever seen.

  “Sit.”

  Jade took the chair opposite Callie, setting her purse on the large, glass-top table.

  “Would you like some lemonade?” Callie asked. “I know I invited you to afternoon tea, but it is such a lovely, warm day, I thought something cold would be nice. I also have iced tea, green in deference of my husband’s recent health kick.”

  “Lemonade sounds wonderful.”

  Callie beamed at Jade’s choice. “I never know when my sons might stop by. Lemonade is Garrett’s favorite so I keep a pitcher handy.”

  Jade was grateful she didn’t have a mouthful of liquid. The sudden mention of Garrett was such a surprise she was afraid she would have spewed it all over his mother.

  “Are you expecting him, or any of them, this afternoon?”

  “Don’t worry,” Callie said, patting Jade’s hand. “My boys are sweethearts. No need to be nervous.”

  Jade sighed. She wasn’t nervous, at least not for the reason Callie thought. The possibility of seeing Garrett here at his parents’ home hadn’t occurred to Jade. It would be awkward if he suddenly appeared. To say the least.

  “These are the best lemon cookies ever made. Please, help yourself.”

  What was it about the Landis family that made them want to feed her? Jade couldn’t help smiling at the thought.

  “There you go,” Callie said with obvious satisfaction when Jade chose not one but two cookies from the plate. “In less than ten minutes, we’ve shared a laugh, a beverage, and some food. We are well on our way to becoming good friends.”

  Jade froze for a moment, a cookie halfway to her mouth. Friends? Callie Flynn wanted to be friends? With her?

  “Oh, dear,” Callie smiled ruefully. “I’m making a hash out of this whole thing.” She patted Jade’s hand reassuringly. “I forget that you haven’t been living in my brain, sharing my thoughts.”

  “That would be…” Jade searched for the word. One that wouldn’t be too insulting. “Unsettling.” It seemed like a good choice. And accurate.

  “Believe me. No one wants to share my brain. Scattered would be putting it mildly.”

  When Callie’s clear, silver gaze met hers, Jade almost gasped. Garrett’s eyes. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Those eyes were world famous. Even though she hadn’t seen his in anything but the glow of the moon and the flicker of candlelight, the changeable color was unmistakable.

  “Are you all right?” Callie asked with concern.

  “I’m sorry,” Jade said. “This was a bad idea. I’m not very good one on one. I do much better in crowds where I’m not expected to do anything but make small talk.”

  Except with Garrett. Jade groaned silently. Stop thinking about him before you blurt out something highly inappropriate.

  “When you think about it, small talk is an art form. Finding the proper balance. Interested yet not too personal. I never mastered the knack of it.”

  “Because you have personality.” Jade shook her head. “Small talk isn’t an art form. It’s boring. I’m boring.”

  “Oh, Jade…”

  “No,” Jade went on quickly. She hated the sympathy she heard in Callie’s voice. It wasn’t what she wanted. “How pathetic did that sound? I meant I was boring. When the most interesting thing to ever happen to you is, well, you know. How sad is that?”

  The words hung between them. The most interesting thing to happen to Jade was something you didn’t speak about with casual acquaintances. An abusive husband who tried to kill you was not afternoon tea conversation.

  “It is sad,” Callie said firmly. “It’s a fact, Jade. Still, it doesn’t make you sad. Or pathetic. It makes you a survivor.”

  “I am that,” Jade agreed with a shrug. “Not that I had anything to do with it. Credit my doctors, not me.”

  “Yes,” Callie nodded. “They saved the physical you. What about your spirit? Your soul? I don’t see a quitter, Jade. Though no one would blame you if you had rolled up in a ball for a few months — or years.”

  “I wanted to,” Jade admitted.

  Those first few weeks after s
he was home from the hospital were some of the hardest of Jade’s life. She was in pain. The nurse her father hired gave her pills every few hours. They were strong. Too strong. Instead of simply alleviating the pain, they knocked her out. She lost large blocks of time. It frightened her to wake up groggy, only to realize it was no longer Tuesday morning but instead, Wednesday afternoon. Soon, Jade started slipping the pills under her tongue instead of swallowing. When she was alone, she flushed them down the toilet. She could handle the pain if it meant keeping her senses about her.

  “Good for you.”

  Callie’s fist pump made Jade laugh. She hadn’t planned on sharing any of that. The only other person who knew was Garrett. Another trait mother and son shared. The ability to draw things out of Jade without making her feel embarrassed or self-conscience.

  “It was your first step, wasn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?” Jade asked with a confused frown.

  “You decided to take your life back,” Callie explained. “One step, Jade. That’s all it takes. Since then, how many more have you taken?”

  Jade didn’t know how it happened. Before she knew it, she was telling Callie things — private things. Most of it Garrett knew. Now, so did his mother.

  She started with why she married Stephen. Leaving out her brief encounter with Garrett, Jade explained how it made sense. Her father approved. No, that wasn’t it. He pushed — hard — for the marriage. As always, it was easier to go along with what he wanted than put up any resistance.

  As for Stephen, though she didn’t know him very well. He seemed charming in a cool, detached sort of way. It wasn’t until they were married that she found out the mask of civility was as thin and fragile as tissue paper.

  Callie asked many of the same questions as Garrett. Did her father know about the abuse? Why didn’t he stop it? The answers hadn’t changed. How could he not know? As for stopping it? He believed if Jade were a better wife, the abuse would stop.