Sins of the Flesh

by Fern Michaels

  “Then you must fix whatever is wrong before it’s too late. Things left unsaid can do irreparable harm, Daniel. I don’t know Jane all that well, but I believe she is a fine person. Do what you have to do, and if that isn’t enough, do more. That’s my free Christmas advice.”

  She turned to Daniel’s daughter. “Merry Christmas, Nellie. You look lovely, rather like the spirit of Christmas in that sparkling gown.”

  From Nellie she moved on to Philippe. Thank God she’d already observed him from across the room. The shock she’d felt at seeing him in formal attire, looking so much like Reuben, had been considerable. How handsome he was, how arrogantly sure of himself. “Merry Christmas, Philippe,” she said formally. “Tell me, why are all of you sitting here alone? Christmas parties are for fun and camaraderie.”

  Nellie shrugged. “I don’t know any of these people. They’re mostly just technicians. Philippe and Daddy don’t know them, either. I thought…we all thought…the party was for the studio stars.”

  Bebe’s eyes narrowed, and her voice was cool when she responded. “You really should circulate and get to know these people. The studio isn’t made up just of stars, you know. The people in this room make Fairmont what it is. I for one am glad Jane gives this party every year. If just a quarter of them walked away from the studio, it couldn’t function. I’m sorry if I sound…bossy, but, Daniel, you should know better. Reuben would throw a fit if he knew what your attitude was—and yours, too, Philippe. What right do any of you have to sit here and pretend you’re better than they are?”

  Daniel was on his feet in a moment. “Hold on, Bebe, it’s not like that at all. You have us all wrong. Apparently, you’re—”

  “No, Daniel, you have it all wrong,” Bebe interrupted. “I can comment only on what I see. And what I see are three Fairmont Studios employees deliberately isolating themselves from the other guests at a lovely party, remaining exclusive…as if they thought they were too good to mingle with ordinary people. And that upsets me. Have a nice holiday,” she said, and walked away.

  “I think we’ve just been put in our places,” Daniel said quietly. “And she’s absolutely right.” He sat down, his eyes searching the crowded room for a sign of the brilliant red dress. Jane was angry with him and he didn’t blame her. He hadn’t stopped to think how his sitting apart would appear to the guests. Now, three-quarters of the way into the party, it didn’t seem a good idea to get up and mingle. Damn it to hell! He wasn’t doing anything right. This was his and Jane’s first Christmas together, and he’d wanted it to be perfect. His hand reached into the pocket of his jacket to touch the small velvet box that rested inside. It was the ring he’d picked up earlier in the day—a flawless solitaire that would look beautiful on Jane’s finger. Engaged…He wanted it more than anything in the world. The present he’d laid on the table, a diamond bracelet, hadn’t even aroused Jane’s curiosity. All evening long he’d waited patiently, hoping she would make her way across the room to say something, to acknowledge the gift. But she hadn’t.

  “Well, if you want my opinion, I think Aunt Bebe is wrong,” Nellie said petulantly. “I don’t know any of these people, and they don’t know me. What can I possibly have in common with them? I think this is a stuffy, boring party, and I want to leave. Are you coming, Philippe?”

  Philippe did not respond; he was struggling to suppress the anger he felt—at himself and at the situation in general. Twice he’d made a move to get up and talk to some of the men he knew slightly, but each time Nellie had pulled him back as though she’d sensed his intention. His mother was right. Now he felt about two inches tall and wanted nothing more than to run to her and apologize. The disgust he’d seen in her eyes devastated him, and what he was hearing and seeing from Nellie bothered him.

  “I think we should just sneak out. No one will even miss us,” Nellie said impishly to Philippe. “Come on, let’s go. Are you staying, Daddy?”

  Reluctantly, Daniel shook his head. There didn’t seem to be much point in staying now.

  “Well, Philippe?” Nellie prodded.

  “If you’re sure you want to leave, it’s okay with me,” Philippe said, rising. “But shouldn’t we say good night to our hostess?”

  “To Jane!” Nellie trilled. “Hardly. Let’s go before she takes it into her head to introduce me to some other eligible bachelor.” That was all Philippe had to hear. Taking her hand, he hurried her to the front door, grabbed her coat from the hall closet, and ushered her outside.

  In the cool night air Nellie pressed closer to Philippe and kissed him. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” she murmured. “That’s why I wanted to leave. I want to be with you on Christmas Eve, Philippe, not a room full of strangers. Sitting with my father all night isn’t my idea of a good time, either.” She kissed him again, more ardently this time, her leg insinuating itself between his. “Let’s go to your house,” she whispered.

  Philippe practically tripped over his own feet as he walked with her to the car. “Are you sure, Nellie? Your father…”

  “Philippe, are you trying to talk your way out of making love to me?” Nellie demanded.

  “No, of course not. It’s just that…your father…I’ve asked you before, and you…”

  “That was then. This is now. I was frightened…. This will be my first time, and I…I wanted it to be just right. Christmas sort of makes it right. I feel it’s right.” She squeezed his hand. “Don’t you?”

  “Hell, yes.” Aching with anticipation, he climbed behind the wheel. At last he was going to make love to sweet, wonderful Nellie, the girl he wanted to marry. His first Christmas present. Jesus, how lucky could a guy get.

  “Don’t worry about Daddy, Philippe,” Nellie said, snuggling close to him. “No matter what he said, I know he’ll stay until the wee hours and get home in time for breakfast like he usually does. Then he’ll probably spend all day with Jane. Or maybe he won’t go home at all this time. Let’s not think about Daddy, let’s think about what you and I are going to do…to each other.” Philippe almost swerved off the road when Nellie’s hand loosened his belt buckle.

  Neither Nellie nor Philippe noticed Daniel standing in the doorway as they drove off. Nellie was wrong; Daniel was going home to the empty house in the canyon, the engagement ring still in his pocket.

  It was close to midnight when the last guest left Jane’s house.

  “Now, that was a hell of a party,” Bebe said, laughing. “No drugs, not too much alcohol, good music, nice people, and excellent food. I want you to know that this is my first party since…turning over a new leaf, as they say. I’m so glad you asked me. Look, if we work together to clean up this place now, you won’t wake up to a mess. It won’t take long.”

  “That’s not necessary, Bebe,” Jane said, slipping off her heels with a sigh of relief. “Aside from having breakfast with you, I don’t have…what I mean is, I don’t have any plans at all for tomorrow.”

  “Is that another way of saying you and Daniel had a tiff?” Bebe said, stacking a load of dishes onto a tray.

  “I think it’s more than a tiff. Listen, why don’t you leave that for now and sit down. I need to talk. We can do it later if you still want to help.”

  Bebe nodded and sank onto the sofa while Jane took a seat next to her and began to talk. The words tumbled out between tears and sobs, all the things she’d been feeling, suspecting, for months now. “I know Daniel planned on giving me an engagement ring this evening,” she said at one point. “When I saw Nellie at the door with him, something in me snapped. I showed my anger and I acted on that anger. You saw him leave. I wanted to ask him to stay, I really did, but I couldn’t.” She hesitated, then rushed on. “I’m resigning, Bebe, the day after New Year’s. I just can’t stay on with the situation the way it is. I’m sorry.”

  “Jane, you can’t resign,” Bebe said, clearly shocked and disturbed by Jane’s announcement. “Reuben will never forgive you, and he’ll never forgive me for allowing it. You can’t let t
his girl force you out. I wish you’d said something sooner. The way I see it, we have two choices. We can transfer her out of production and into publicity or wardrobe, anywhere we want, or we can simply fire her. Look, I’ll tell Daniel. I’m not bashful when it comes to something like this.”

  Jane shook her head. “I appreciate it, Bebe, but it won’t work. You’re forgetting Philippe. Philippe and Nellie aligned together will be deadly to the studio. I don’t want to do anything that will cause Daniel heartache. I love him too much. Can’t you see, I have to leave.”

  “But that isn’t going to work, either. Nellie will always stand between you and Daniel. You have to tell him how you feel. He…you can’t build a relationship without truth and honesty. Take a good long look at me, Jane, for I am the living proof of what I say. I wouldn’t wish that kind of thing on my worst enemy. Why don’t we just think about this during the coming week. No hard-rock decisions need to be made this evening. Tomorrow I want you to call Daniel and spend Christmas with him. You don’t have to accept his ring if you don’t want to. Do it for yourself, Jane, it’s what you want. Now, show me those mysterious packages you mentioned.”

  “Yes, in a minute.” Jane stood, licking at her dry lips uncertainly. “I think…no, I know I’m doing the right thing by showing you what’s in my safe. If you weren’t the strong woman I know you are, I would keep these papers to myself. I’ve done little else but think of this for weeks now. I think you can handle this. If I’m wrong…”

  Bebe could feel her pulse start to pound. Jane sounded so ominous. Whatever the packages contained must have something to do with Reuben. Summoning a smile to her lips, she said, “Why don’t you just get these…packages, and we’ll take it from there.” Her face remained expressionless when Jane returned a few moments later and handed her four battered brown envelopes.

  While Jane cleared the room and washed the dishes and glassware, Bebe read. She was still engrossed as Jane moved the furniture back to its original position, vacuumed the rug, and straightened the remaining presents under the tree. Every now and then Jane glanced at her as she read Reuben’s heart-wrenching words. Had she come to the part where Reuben said he loved her, she wondered. It was almost dawn when Bebe laid aside the last piece of paper, her eyes sad and moist.

  “I think, Jane, that this is one of those miraculous gifts Gentiles talk about at Christmastime,” she said quietly. “Thank you for sharing this with me. You were right to wonder if I was ready for something like this. Months ago I wouldn’t have been able to handle it, but I can now.” She gazed at the Christmas tree and smiled. “I wonder where he is and what he’s doing at this moment. Christmas…I was standing by your tree earlier, and he came into my thoughts. He’s always in my thoughts. I know I will love Reuben all my life and into eternity. I don’t know why. He’s never given me a reason to love him, but I do.”

  “Why don’t I make breakfast and then you can go home to Willie,” Jane offered. “I have a lot of leftover meat if you’d like to take some with you.”

  Bebe grinned. “On behalf of Willie, I thank you. He’s getting a little tired of dog food. You won’t believe this, but I cook for that animal. Reuben would die laughing if he knew.”

  Jane patted her hand. “Eggs and bacon coming up.” It wasn’t until they’d drained their third cup of coffee that Bebe spoke again.

  “I want you to think about this after I leave. Let’s start to film Reuben’s…life. Right now. We’ll requisition whatever we need in the way of sound stages, production crew, and all the rest of it—make it a top-secret, top-priority project. We’ll scour the world for unknowns and turn this into another Gone With the Wind. You’ll be in charge—which should get Nellie off your back for now. This will be our baby, from conception to birth to…Christ, we don’t have the end!” Bebe cried suddenly.

  “Not yet we don’t, but we will,” Jane told her confidently. “Another packet is due to arrive shortly. But you’re right—everyone has to be sworn to secrecy. You know how this town gets when something is going on that isn’t public knowledge.”

  Bebe smiled. “When they hear we’re commandeering Fairmont’s finest to make a top-secret film…God, Jane, can you picture the emotion of this town! I vote we do it.”

  Jane glowed. “I truly appreciate the confidence you have in me. But what about…” She shifted uncomfortably, then turned to look Bebe straight in the eye. “What I mean is, you don’t exactly come across as a sympathetic figure in this town. How are you going to feel when the whole damn industry starts raking over your past and questioning your ability to assume command of Fairmont this way?”

  “I’ll just stare them down. In my car!” Both women laughed.

  “I have to be going,” Bebe said, rising. “Willie gets…precocious if he isn’t let out early. Merry Christmas, Jane, and thank you for the most wonderful gift I’ve ever received.”

  Ten miles away Philippe and Nellie sat in his car staring at the Little Chapel in the Hills. They’d been waiting since midnight, when Nellie had confessed that she couldn’t make love without being married. Philippe had gaped at her in alarm, his erection dying instantly, as she’d sobbed and cried and apologized. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that…I’m not that kind of girl. You said you wanted to marry me someday,” she’d reminded him tearfully. “Why don’t we make Christmas Day our someday. I don’t care about a big wedding or anything like that. I just care about you. I’ll marry you in a minute and make love to you twenty-four hours a day. If you…if you don’t want to marry me or if you’ve changed your mind, I’ll understand. Jane said Frenchmen aren’t the marrying type the way American men are.”

  “I do want to marry you, but your father—my God, what will he think of me?” Philippe asked, disturbed.

  “He’s going to think you love me very much to marry me instead of taking me to bed without a wedding ring. He’ll respect both of us,” Nellie said in a determined voice. “A Christmas Day wedding. Isn’t that romantic, Philippe? Neither of us will ever be able to forget our anniversary. Oh, Philippe, we can be so happy. I can help you run the studio. We’ll be together night and day. But it has to be your idea; you must propose to me properly.” She waited, eyes wide and imploring while Philippe stared at her in a daze. At last he dropped to one knee and took her hand in his.

  “Will you marry me, Nellie?”

  “Oh, Philippe, of course I’ll marry you. Oh, darling, we’re going to be so happy,” she gushed. “With the two of us running the studio Bebe and Jane can retire. Daddy and Jane will get married, and Bebe will…she’ll probably do whatever makes her happy. Oh, how romantic this is going to be!”

  Philippe ignored the warning bell that was sounding far back in his mind. Instead, he stood up and pulled Nellie against him, nuzzling his chin against her soft, silky hair. “I love you,” he murmured.

  “And I love you, darling Philippe, as much as I love life,” she whispered.

  Nellie and Philippe were married at two minutes past seven on Christmas Day. The ceremony was performed by the justice of the peace and lasted three minutes. Nellie handed the bridal bouquet of plastic flowers back to the justice before she kissed her husband.

  Mr. and Mrs. Philippe Bouchet drove to Philippe’s house singing “Jingle Bells” at the top of their lungs.

  Daniel spent the entire night staring at the artificial Christmas tree in the living room. It was so cold, so impersonal, with its dismal blue lights and blue ribbons on the tips of the branches. When dawn broke he called Philippe’s house to find out when Nellie would be home, but there was no answer. Now he had two worries on his mind—Nellie and Jane. This was not the way he’d planned on spending Christmas, he thought morosely. He’d been so happy until Jane’s party, and now he didn’t know how to go about making things right. What was his first priority, Nellie or his relationship with Jane? Nellie was a proper young lady and she’d never stayed out all night before. It wasn’t like her not to call.

  It wasn’t like
Jane not to call, either. All night he’d waited for one or the other, and here he was still waiting—waiting for Jane to call, waiting for Nellie to come home. Anger raged through him. He’d give them one more hour, and if he hadn’t heard from them by then, he’d say the hell with both of them.

  His shower over, Daniel prepared a scrumptious breakfast of scrambled eggs and luscious pink ham, sliced thin just the way he liked it. It was one of the most dismal breakfasts he’d ever eaten.

  Fed, showered, and shaved and nowhere to go on Christmas Day. It was a hell of a thing. His anger carried him back to the huge living room and the white Christmas tree. Rajean would have liked this tree, called it chic. Suddenly he upended it and gave it a vicious kick, and then another, venting all his anger on the toppled tree. Then, still seething, he left the house. He was damn well going to Philippe Bouchet’s house to find out where his daughter was, and then he was going to go to Jane’s to apologize. He’d had enough of this damn bullshit. Today was Christmas, and he was going to celebrate it if it killed him and everyone he knew.

  An hour later Daniel slowed his car as he saw Philippe swing his roadster into the driveway coming from the opposite direction. Damn kids were singing “Jingle Bells” at the top of their lungs. He found himself smiling. Nellie wore her sparkly gown, and Philippe was still dressed in evening clothes. They must have gone out to breakfast.

  “Merry Christmas, Daddy,” Nellie called gaily when he followed them up the driveway. “Do we have something to tell you! Do you want to guess, or shall we tell you? Philippe, you tell him!”

  Philippe walked slowly down the driveway. It was obvious to Daniel that Nellie’s exuberance hadn’t rubbed off on him; he looked sad and bewildered. “Sir, there’s no easy way to say this except to say it outright,” he said reluctantly. He looked, Daniel thought, as if his head were going to be chopped off any second. “Nellie and I got married this morning. We sat outside the Little Chapel in the Hills until it opened.” Daniel’s shocked face drove him on. “It was my idea, sir. I love Nellie and she loves me. We…we wanted it to be right, and Nellie said she didn’t care about a formal wedding. Later we can marry in church…Sir?” Philippe said miserably when Daniel still didn’t speak.