Long after lunch when the rest of the party food was gone, Karen stood in the kitchen doing dishes. Her mind drifted to her handful of friends and she couldn’t help but smile. How the hell did a girl like her end up with such an influential guest list of her own to add to Michael’s at these parties? It was insane.
She’d barely made it through college because of funds, she’d only just managed to pay off her student loans before signing up with Alliance. The only reason she was driving around in new cars was because Michael insisted they lease her something new. As he put it, no one would believe that his wife would be driving around in a seven-year-old Mazda with a broken air conditioner. The car wasn’t that bad, but she knew he was right. She did nix anything over the top. It had taken the kids a few months to settle down after her marriage, and if she’d parked some hundred-thousand-dollar sports car in the drive, it would be near impossible to get the attention of the boys. On days like today, she brought the Escalade, which wasn’t an unlikely car to be parked in the lot. She usually knew when Michael showed up before he walked in the door. He had no problem bringing something flashy for the kids to drool over. It brought joy to the kids, and to Michael.
The man worked nonstop. Oh, he played hard, too. They’d returned to Europe together and taken the inside passage in Canada and Alaska the previous summer. There were parties and award dinners with passing friends and fake acquaintances. There were a few people that Michael called friends, but she didn’t think there was even one he’d shared his true life with.
Karen put the last of the dishes in the massive machine, lowered the door, and turned it on.
After grabbing the last of the empty trays that were ready for the trash, she opened the back door and moved around to the front of the building where they housed the Dumpster.
As usual, the roar of an engine sounded like a mating call to teenage boys. She turned around, garbage in hand, and caught sight of Michael pulling into the parking lot. The copper metallic paint glistened off the low-profile sports car that she couldn’t immediately identify. It wasn’t his. Or at least, it hadn’t been when she’d left the house that morning.
Kids started pouring from the club as he cut the engine, and he and Zach hopped out of the car with cat ate the canary grins on their faces.
Karen popped the garbage into the trash can and wiped her hands on her pants as she walked over to greet the boys, who looked as if they had just been on a joy ride. She knew he’d show up in something crazy expensive, but she assumed it would be the Ferrari parked in the garage that she’d all but refused to ride in because of the time the semitruck nearly ran them over.
With her best eye roll, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared Michael down. “What did you do?”
He delivered his sexy smile. Beside him, Zach dished out a grin that would devastate her if she allowed it.
“Is it new, Ms. Jones?” Dale, one of the regular kids from the club, asked.
“There aren’t plates on it, moron, of course it’s new,” his best friend, Enrique, said as he hit him upside the arm.
“Is it yours, Mr. Wolfe?” one of the kids in the back asked. By now there were two dozen circling the car. When the bell to the high school next door rang, Karen knew they’d be mobbed with kids from the school, and the club, within seconds.
“What is it, Michael?” someone else asked.
Karen walked around the back of the car and noticed the logo.
“It’s a McLaren, dude.”
“Sweet!”
“Do you like it, honey?” Michael asked over the top of the car as he watched her approach.
“It’s very pretty.” It was, even if the cost of it could probably feed several villages in third world countries for a year.
“Damn, Ms. Jones, you don’t call a car like this pretty.”
Karen shot a nasty look at the boy talking. “Language, Peter!”
He had the good sense to lower his eyes. “Still can’t call it pretty. Sweet, sick, fu—” he stopped himself. “Freaking amazing, but not pretty.”
It is fucking amazing. There was no denying that, and from the grins on both Zach’s and Michael’s faces, it was a fun ride, too.
“I’m glad you like it. I bought it for my sister for her birthday.”
The smile on Karen’s face fell. “You what?”
“Hannah. Think she’ll like it?”
Words escaped her. “You did not!” She twisted toward Zach, who happened to be closer to her than Michael was. “Tell me he’s kidding!”
Zach was still smiling, but she couldn’t read much from his expression because of the sunglasses covering his eyes.
“Michael Gardner Wolfe, tell me you’re joking!”
“You don’t think she’ll like it?” he asked.
“You can’t give this to a seventeen-year-old girl.”
A gasp went over the kids. “Lucky sister.”
“Wish he was my brother,” someone from the crush of kids said.
“Why not? It only has two seats so she can’t pile kids inside, and it’s only a V-8.” Michael was still grinning, completely oblivious of how stupid this idea was.
“She’s a kid! She’ll hit the gas and wrap herself around a pole. It’s too much. The insurance alone is insane!” She wagged her accusatory finger in his direction, and then swung it toward Zach. “You’re not giving it to her. Your mother will kill you!”
Michael finally stopped smiling. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Yeah, well you should have. Holy cow! What were you thinking? A day at the spa, a trip to the mall, those are the kinds of presents you give to your kid sister, not a car like this.”
Michael leaned over the hood and rubbed his jaw. She was getting through to him and her heart started to slow down.
“You’re right.”
The kids had gone quiet as they listened and recorded their argument on their cell phones. Like every visit to the club, Michael’s presence would be up on YouTube and Facebook before the hour was up.
“Of course I’m right.”
Michael lifted his glasses off his face and set them on top of the car. He looked at the keys in his hands and then to her. He tossed her the keys, which she caught with one hand.
“Then it’s yours.”
She tossed the keys right back as if they burned. “I don’t need this car.”
Back the keys came. “You said it was pretty.”
“I already have a pretty car.” The keys sailed over the car again. Like a tennis match, the phones were swinging back and forth.
“This one is prettier.”
She caught the keys again and stomped her foot. “Michael!”
He mimicked her, stomped his foot, and winked. “Karen!”
He started to laugh. “C’mon, honey. It’s your anniversary present. One whole year of putting up with me.”
“Take the car, Ms. Jones.”
When she caught Zach’s expression, she knew the whole ploy of giving the car to Hannah had been a joke. Michael knew Karen wouldn’t drive this car without some kind of hook.
“It’s not polite to give someone’s gifts back,” Peter said beside her. She heard the words she’d told them more than once.
Karen glanced down at the car and cringed on the inside. She dangled the keys in her hand. As she walked around the hood, kids parted a path. If there weren’t cameras pointed at her, she’d likely stomp on his foot and shove the keys in his pocket, but instead, she leaned into him and whispered in his ear. “I’m going to kill you when I get home.”
He just laughed.
“You’re welcome,” he said loud enough for the audience. He kissed her cheek briefly and offered his Hollywood smile.
Chapter Five
Damn it was a sweet-ass ride. When Mike had suggested they go to the dealership for exotic cars in Beverly Hills, Zach thought it was to window shop, maybe score a test drive. At first, he thought maybe Mike was showing off his clout to his big brother. When they�
�d driven off the lot with little more than a handshake and a signature, Zach was all kinds of impressed.
He and Mike had left the Boys and Girls Club after an hour. The kids took turns taking pictures of the car, the celebrity, and themselves pretending to drive. All the while Karen stood aside with a half smile on her lips as she watched. He couldn’t believe that she’d instantly said no to the car. Who did that? Michael told Zach at the dealership that he would figure out a way for her to accept it, but that if he knew her, she’d nix it outright.
“You were right about Karen,” Zach said as they pulled onto the street leading to Mike’s home.
Mike shifted around the curve and the whole car hummed. Sweet. “I’m sure I haven’t heard the end of it.”
No, Zach didn’t think so either. “It’s obvious she didn’t marry you for your money.”
Mike laughed. Instead of professing her love for him, he said, “Lotta good that would do. There’s a prenup.”
“Really? She agreed to that?” Seemed prenuptial agreements were a sign of doubt on the end of the person who had something to lose.
“She insisted on it.”
Mike slowed the car at the gated entry to his house and pressed a remote opening.
“She doesn’t seem to be the kind of woman you’d have to worry about taking you to the cleaners.”
Mike revved the engine, which didn’t do well idling. “I don’t think so either, but this is Hollywood, and nothing is ever as it seems.”
“Wow, Mike, that’s cold.”
He pulled into the drive. “And true.”
Without more discussion, Mike jumped out of the car, and at the same time, a short dark-haired man stepped out of house. “I thought that would be you. Damn, Michael, you’re already trending on Twitter.”
Trending on Twitter?
“Leave it to the kids to jump on social media. Tony, have you met my brother, Zach?”
Tony…ah, the manager. Zach shook hands with the man.
“Noticed you last night at the party, but couldn’t get over to you,” Tony said. “How long are you in town?”
“Leaving tomorrow.”
Mike narrowed his eyes. “You just got here.”
“And there’s work piling up at home. Besides, you’ll be there soon enough.”
“You will?” Tony asked.
Before anyone could elaborate, the gate opened and in drove Karen.
Tony lowered his voice. “She looks pissed.”
“How can anyone be pissed about a car like this?” Zach asked.
“Karen doesn’t do extravagant.”
She damn near kissed the bumper of the McLaren before pulling the Cadillac to a stop.
Tony sucked in a breath and shot his hands in the air as if to tell her to stop before she ruined a machine worth over a quarter million dollars. Even Mike cringed.
“What was that about?” Karen came out swinging.
“What, a man can’t buy a wife a present?”
Karen exchanged a look with Tony, and skimmed over Zach, before resting on Mike.
“We’ve had the car discussion.”
Tony stepped forward, surprising Zach as he jumped in the middle of the discussion. “Michael, your agent already called me; Paramount has put in a call thanks to those kids posting all over the net.”
Karen swiveled her anger toward Tony. “What are you talking about?”
“The producers at Paramount?”
She offered a blank stare.
“You met them last night at the party.” Tony switched his discussion to Mike. “Lavine wants to talk to you tonight. They loved the YouTube splash and want to secure your name.”
Zach’s head spun. He had no idea what they were talking about and how it played into this discussion about the car. Apparently, he was the only one in the dark.
“Wait.” Karen shoved in front of Tony. “Are you saying today’s display was about securing a role?”
Zach was about to tell her she was wrong, but realized no one was talking.
“I wanted to buy you a car,” Mike said, but at this point even Zach doubted him, and he’d been at the dealership during the transaction. Never once did Mike say anything about a part in a movie.
“Really?”
“What could be better than my wife driving the car featured in my next film?”
Zach watched as the two of them argued. Mike’s words swam in his head: this is Hollywood, and nothing is ever as it seems.
“Look at it this way. Do you want the guy selling you your Ford to be driving a Toyota? No, you want the guy to drive a Ford.”
“Nobody cares what I drive, Michael. No one even recognizes me unless I’m with you.”
“That’s not true,” Tony muttered. “You’re all over the tabloids today, both with and without Michael.”
“You don’t have to drive it daily.”
She glanced over at the car. “I don’t even know how to drive it.”
Mike tossed an arm over Karen’s shoulders. “That’s my girl.”
“I didn’t say I’d keep it.”
“You didn’t say you wouldn’t.”
She opened the gull-wing door on the driver’s side and peeked inside. “How long do you have before you can’t take it back?”
“Five days or two hundred miles.”
Karen placed two fingers in the air. “Only on two conditions will I keep this car.”
Mike crossed his arms over his chest. “OK.”
“One, if I can’t figure out how to drive it without looking like an idiot in two days, it goes back.”
“You’re a good driver.”
She rolled her eyes. “And two, you agree to leave your agent, your manager, and your producers at home when we’re visiting your family.”
“They’re not coming with us.”
“I’m talking cell phones, Internet…everything. Tony can call me every forty-eight hours, and I’ll relay the time-sensitive information. I’m talking a real vacation.”
Mike glanced over at Zach. “See what I live with?”
“Those are the conditions, Michael.”
Mike tossed the keys at her again.
“Zach, do me a favor, will ya? Teach her how to drive it. I have a meeting to attend.”
Mike and Tony turned around and left the two of them standing in the driveway.
“Son of a bitch,” Zach said. “He was always going at Mach speed when he lived in Utah, but I don’t remember him being this intense.”
“You’re seeing the city boy. What I want to know is where the country boy went.” Karen glanced at him briefly and ducked into the house. “I’ll meet you out here in an hour. I don’t want to attempt to drive this thing in the dark.”
Karen didn’t even try talking to Michael before he left. She knew from experience that he wouldn’t be home anytime soon and not to count on him for dinner. She showered and slipped into a California-casual outfit for early summer, a.k.a. sandals, Capri cotton pants, and a short-sleeved shirt, and then walked through the kitchen, checking the time. In the driveway sat a zillion-dollar car for which she barely knew how to open the door, let alone drive.
She stared at the car and found it to be a symbol of her husband’s life, over the top and flashy in every way. If there was any possibility of Michael getting his life in perspective, it hinged on Utah. Hinged on family.
Thinking of family, she realized she hadn’t spoken with her aunt in at least a month. She didn’t hear Zach in the house and decided she’d take the last ten minutes before her driving lesson to call her only relative.
The phone rang twice. “Sedgwick residence.”
“Hi, Nita. It’s Karen. Is my aunt home?”
“Hi, Miss Karen. Yes, let me get her for you.”
Karen waited for her aunt’s housekeeper to fetch her. Man, they’d both elevated in life a peg or two. Her aunt had married a wonderful man named Stanley only a few years before. Stanley had contacted Alliance in an effort to find him a young an
d temporary wife to tick off his money-hungry children and grandchildren. Although Karen never considered the proposition, she’d met with him at Eliza’s request and decided that what he really needed was a strong woman willing to put his family in their place. The rest, as they say, was history. Stanley and Aunt Edie married, and after a little drama, the kids figured out that Aunt Edie didn’t do well with slackers and freeloaders, all of which Stanley’s kids were.
“Karen?”
“Hey, Aunt Edie.”
“How are you, honey? Are you eating?”
Karen laughed. Seemed all Aunt Edie worried about was if she was eating enough. “Yes, ma’am. I haven’t called in a couple of weeks.”
“Well you’re a busy girl. How’s your Hollywood husband?”
“He’s fine. Off doing the Hollywood thing. How’s Stanley?”
“He’s good. The doctor gave him a clean bill last month. All the blood work looked good.” Her aunt went on for a while about medicine and tests, much like everyone seemed to do when they passed the age of seventy. She finished talking about their health with a pause.
“Michael and I are going out of town for a couple of weeks.”
“Oh?”
“He has family in Utah he hasn’t seen for a while.”
Aunt Edie hesitated. “You’ve not met them?”
Karen knew her aunt already knew the answer to her question. “No…well, except for his brother. Not his parents.”
“A man who doesn’t introduce his bride to his parents…”
“Edie!”
“Don’t Edie me. It’s not normal.”
This wasn’t the time to bring Edie up to date on the future, or lack thereof, of her marriage.
“It’s fine. I’m OK. I promise.”
“I should have done something different—”
“Edie. Stop. I’m good.”
“Your mother didn’t deserve you.”
They’d had this discussion before, too. “Tell Stanley I said hello.”
“You’re cutting me off.”
“I’m saying good-bye. I have a driving lesson to get to.”
The Weekday Brides 04 - Single by Saturday Page 4