“I told Carmen we'd pick her up,” Allegra explained to him as they left and walked out to the waiting limo. It was a stretch, and she had no doubt they'd all fit. Alan leased it, with the driver, on a yearly basis. It was part of his current contract. “Is that all right?”
“I guess. I'm not nominated tonight, so I'm in no hurry to get there. Hell, maybe you and I should just take off and go somewhere else. You look too good to waste on all those clods, and all those assholes from the tabloids.”
“Now, now, be a good boy,” she scolded him, and he kissed her neck, but it was only playful.
“See how well behaved I am, never mess a girl's hair. I've been trained by experts.” He looked extremely handsome as he handed her into the car, and she smiled as he slid in beside her.
“You know, half the women in America would give their right arms, and their left, to be sitting here next to you. I really am a lucky girl, aren't I?” She grinned and he laughed, and had the grace to look embarrassed.
“Don't be a jerk, Al. I'm a lucky guy. You really look great tonight.”
“Wait till you meet Carmen. She's absolutely drop-dead gorgeous.”
“She can't hold a candle to you, my friend,” he said gallantly, but they both looked stunned when they reached her house and Carmen stepped into the driveway. She was flanked on either side by the bodyguards Allegra had hired for her. Bill looked like a wall in a tuxedo, and Gayle looked deceptively demure in a very good-looking bronze sequined dress that set off her coppery hair and her figure, and the matching jacket completely concealed both guns she was wearing, a Walther PPK .380 and a Derringer .38 Special. But it was Carmen who took their breath away and literally shocked Alan into silence. She was wearing a skintight red peau de soie dress with a high neck, long sleeves, and it showed off every inch of her flawless figure. Like Allegra's, it had a high slit, which showed off her legendary legs, and when she turned, there appeared to be almost no back to the dress, and you could see her creamy skin all the way to her shapely bottom. Her silvery-blond hair was pulled straight back into an elegant bun, and she not only looked incredibly sexy, but she also managed to look somewhat distinguished. She looked like a very sexy version of a very young Grace Kelly.
“Wow!” Allegra said for both of them. “You look fabulous.”
“Do you like it?” Carmen looked like a kid as she grinned at them, and she was mortified when she blushed as Allegra introduced her to Alan. “I'm really honored to meet you,” she said, almost choking on her words, and he shook her hand and assured her that he had always wanted to meet her too. He said that Allegra had said nothing but nice things about her, and Carmen smiled up at her attorney with gratitude and pleasure. “I guess she lied to you then. I'm a big pain in the neck sometimes,” she grinned and they all laughed.
“It's the nature of the business,” Alan excused her easily as the two bodyguards took the seats facing them, on either side of the television set and the bar. Allegra nicked on the TV as they drove away, so they could see who was arriving at the awards, and just before they arrived, she saw her parents. Her mother was wearing a dark green velvet dress and she looked very pretty as the Steinbergs smiled at the reporters. The announcer explained who they were to the viewers at home, just as the limousine stopped at Michael Guiness's apartment. He was waiting for them and he hurried out, greeted everyone, and jumped into the front seat next to the driver. He and Alan had worked on a picture once, and Allegra introduced him to Carmen and her bodyguards, as they took off toward the Hilton.
“I've never been to the Golden Globes before,” Michael said, excited to be going with them. He was scarcely older than Carmen, but less sophisticated, and a lot less of a name than she was. In some ways, Allegra thought to herself, Carmen should have been Alan's date. But that would have been a story the tabloids would go wild with.
As they approached the Hilton, they got into the long line of limousines, waiting to disgorge their glittering passengers, like little bits of sparkling bait set out to excite the sharks patrolling the waters. Hundreds of reporters were lined up four or five deep, holding cameras, and extending microphones and tape recorders, trying to get just a moment, a glimpse, a word, with an important person. And inside, the crowds were even worse, there reporters and cameramen had been allowed to set up small areas in which to interview the nominees or any publicity hungry actor or actress who would give them a few minutes. And beyond them were lines of fans, banked against the walls, until the enormous lobby shrank to a tiny trail allowing people to trickle through to the grand ballroom. And once inside, there was every major and minor television and movie star anyone had ever seen, read or heard about. It was an extraordinary group, and even among the fans outside, there was an atmosphere of wild anticipation. As each limousine drew up, and a new face appeared, fans screamed their names or cheered, and dozens of reporters lunged forward in the light of a hundred flashing cameras.
Just watching it seemed to terrify Carmen Connors. She had been to the Golden Globes the year before, but this year, as one of the nominees, she knew that the press would be even more anxious to devour her. And having had a death threat only the night before, she was even more unnerved by the attention and the crowds and the cameras.
“Are you okay?” Allegra asked her, looking motherly.
“I'm fine,” she said in barely more than a whisper.
“Let Bill and me get out first,” Gayle explained, “then Michael, and then you. We'll be between you and the cameras at first,” she said calmly, exuding a sense of protection just in the way she said it.
“We'll bring up the rear,” Allegra reassured her, but she also knew that the attention on Alan would be extreme. It might deflect some of the attention from Carmen, but it would attract more reporters to them too. There was simply no way of avoiding the press here. There were hundreds of people waiting for them, possibly as many as a thousand. “We're right here, Carmen. You just have to get inside the hall. After that you'll be fine.” There were plenty of other stars there to distract them, Allegra reminded her gently.
“You'll get used to it, kid,” Alan said, gently touching Carmen's arm. There was a sweetness to her that he liked, and a vulnerability he hadn't seen in years, but that had great appeal to him. Most of the actresses he knew were pretty hardened.
“I don't think I'll ever get used to it,” Carmen said softly, looking up at him with big gentle blue eyes, and he almost wanted to put his arms around her, except that he knew he'd have shocked her.
“You'll be okay,” Alan said calmly. “Nothing's going to happen to you. I get those threats all the time. They're just nuts. They never follow through.” He said it with complete confidence, which was not exactly what the FBI had said that afternoon. They said most of the threats that were acted on were usually preceded by some kind of explanation, like the one she'd gotten in the mail: the belief that she was cheating on this man, and that she owed something to him, although she was sure that she didn't even know him. They agreed with Alan that most threats were simply a weak cry from confused, ineffective people, but there was always the rare one who did what he promised to, and caused a real disaster. The police and the FBI had both recommended that she be careful for a while, and try to stay away from advertised or expected appearances, or highly public places. Tonight's appearance was exactly what she shouldn't do, but on the other hand, going to the Golden Globe Awards was part of her business, and she knew that. She was trying to make the best of it, but Allegra could see that she was scared stiff, as Carmen reached unconsciously for Alan's hand and squeezed it, although she scarcely knew him. “I'm right here,” he said quietly, holding her arm, and helping her out to Bill and Gayle, her bodyguards, and Michael, waiting for her on the sidewalk. Alan never took his eyes off her, nor did Allegra. The effect was almost instantaneous as a hundred reporters lunged toward her and the crowd began screaming her name at the top of their voices. Allegra had never seen anything like it. It was almost like a wave that seized them, as they looked at her
, and she and Alan both found themselves wondering when the last time was that Hollywood had produced a star with as much charisma as Carmen.
“Poor kid,” he said, feeling sorry for her. He knew what it was like. But somehow, he had never felt quite so overwhelmed as he could sense she did. He had been a little older than she was when his first major success hit, and as a man, they never pushed him quite as far or took quite as much advantage. “Come on,” he said, grabbing Allegra, but keeping his eye on Carmen, trying to dodge and weave and smile as she was oppressed by fans, reporters, and cameras. There were hundreds of them now, and even the line of limousines was blocked. Nobody could move until the mass of humanity settling around Carmen could be disbanded. “Let's give her a hand,” Alan said, and shoved his way through the crowd, where the bodyguards were struggling, the police had started to move in, and Michael Guiness was lost in the crowds and looking completely helpless. But within seconds Alan was at her side, with Allegra hanging on to him, and he put a firm arm around Carmen's shoulders. “Hi, guys,” he said knowingly, as though offering himself up just to give her a breather. And the moment they recognized him, the crowd went wild, screaming his name as well as Carmen's. “Sure do…. Sure am…. We've got a winner here…. That's right…. Thanks so much … happy to be here … Miss Connors is going to be one of our winners tonight….” He exchanged a constant banter with them, as he set his football shoulders into the crowd and continued to move forward. And seeing what he had done, Gayle and Bill were able to move ahead of them. Gayle came down on several arches with stiletto heels while feigning total innocence, and Bill applied elbows to ribs as they cleared a path for her to enter the building. It was slow going, but they were finally able to move, and Alan kept up the momentum, holding to both Allegra and Carmen, and in a moment they were inside, and there were fresh screams from the fans, and a new onslaught from the media as television cameras were pushed into their faces. For a moment, Carmen started to turn aside, but Alan held on to her tightly and kept talking to her, keeping her calm and urging her forward.
“You're okay,” he kept repeating to her. “You're fine…. Come on, now, smile for the cameras. The whole world is watching you tonight.” She looked as though she were about to cry, and his grip on her only got firmer and tighter, and then with a last burst of energy, they exploded into the ballroom, free of the hangers-on at last. One of the ruffles on Allegra's coat had been slightly torn, and the slit in Carmen's dress had gotten noticeably higher. One fan had actually grabbed her leg, and another one had tried to take one of her earrings. It was a total free-for-all, and Carmen's eyes were filled with tears as they reached the ballroom. “Don't you dare,” Alan said quietly to her. “If you let them see how terrified you are, they'll be worse every time they see you. You have to look as though this doesn't bother you at all. Pretend you love it.”
“I hate it,” she said as two little tears spilled onto her cheeks, and he handed her his hankie.
“I mean it, you have to be very strong when you face them. I learned that five years ago. If not, they'll tear your heart out, after they rip your clothes off.”
Allegra was nodding at her, grateful that Alan had joined them. Maybe it had all worked out for the best. Brandon would have been no help at all—if anything he'd have been irritated by the press—and Michael still hadn't made it into the ballroom. “He's right, you know. You've got to look like you can handle this with your eyes closed.”
“What if I can't?” she said, still looking visibly shaken as she glanced gratefully up at Alan. She was still embarrassed to look at him. He was so handsome, and so famous. The truth was she was just as famous as he was, but in her heart of hearts, she didn't know that. It was part of what made her so appealing.
“If you can't do this,” Alan said quietly, “then you don't belong here.”
“Maybe I don't,” she said sadly, handing him back his handkerchief. She had only dabbed at her eyes, and there was the faintest trace of mascara on it.
“America says you do belong here. Are you saying they're liars?” he asked her pointedly, as a whole flock of people suddenly appeared who knew him.
He introduced them to everyone. Allegra knew most of them, and Bill and Gayle had moved a few feet away, knowing that the danger had diminished. Alan and Carmen were with their own kind now, other stars, and producers and directors. And a few minutes later, Allegra's parents joined them. Blaire kissed Alan and told him how happy she was to see him again, and how much she had liked his last movie, and Simon shook his head, silently wishing, as he always did, that Allegra would fall in love with him.
Alan was the kind of son-in-law every man dreamed of. He was handsome and intelligent, easygoing, and athletic. Simon and Alan had played golf and tennis several times, and while he and Allegra were in high school, Alan had literally lived in their kitchen. But he had been pretty busy in recent years, and Simon wasn't sure now if Alan was escorting Allegra or Carmen Connors to the Golden Globes. He seemed to be equally attentive to both of them, and Michael had finally arrived but found a clique of his friends, and he was standing a few feet away talking animatedly to them.
“We haven't seen you in a long time,” Simon complained to Alan in good-natured fashion. “Don't be such a stranger.”
“I was in Australia for six months last year, making a picture in Kenya for eight months before that. And I just got back from Thailand. They keep me on the road most of the time in this insane business. Next month I'm off to Switzerland. It's kind of fun sometimes, you know what it's like.” He looked knowingly at Simon. He had never worked for him, but like everyone else in Hollywood, he had always been extremely fond of Simon Steinberg. He was smart, he was fair, he was always a gentleman, and both in his dealings and his word, unfailingly honest. In many ways, he was a lot like Allegra, and those were the same qualities Alan loved about her. That, and the fact that she had great legs, and a figure that still made him want to think of her as something other than a sister. But he was extremely confused as he looked at her. At the beginning of the evening, he had started having romantic notions about her again, but the moment Carmen had appeared, he felt as though someone had thrown all his insides out the window. He didn't know if he was right side up or upside down, or what he was feeling for her. But all he knew was that he wanted to pick Carmen up in his arms, and run straight through the crowd with her until he reached a place where they could be alone for a long, long time, and he could get to know her. Despite all the feelings he'd had for Allegra for over fifteen years, he had never felt that way about her. Since she'd first stepped into the limousine, he couldn't take his eyes off Carmen Connors.
Allegra had noticed it too, and it made her smile at him. She knew that he'd been hit hard, and fast, and she wasn't even sure she minded.
“I told you you'd like her,” she said in a wheedling tone as they made their way to their table, and a dozen photographers snapped their picture. Carmen and Michael were just behind them, with Bill and Gayle bringing up the rear. Carmen was well sandwiched between them all, but the press was also being kept busy by other major stars, though none as devastatingly beautiful as she was.
“Why is it that you remind me of Sam when you talk to me like that?” he asked, sounding faintly annoyed, and not wanting to admit to her how taken he was with Carmen.
“Are you calling me a brat, or just telling me I sound like I'm seventeen?” she teased as another photographer, this one from Paris Match, took their picture.
“I'm telling you that you're a pain in the ass, but I love you anyway,” he grinned with the look that a million women would have died for.
“You really are cute, you know,” she said, wanting to give him a shove, but not daring to get out of hand there. “I think Carmen thinks so too, to tell you the truth,” she said, sounding like an omniscient older sister.
“Maybe you should just stay out of this,” he warned her, suddenly wanting to kiss her neck again, and feeling completely schizophrenic. It was ridicul
ous, he had known her and loved her, mostly as a brother, for fifteen years, and now suddenly he was having sexual feelings about her again, and at the same time he was wildly attracted to her incredibly beautiful blond-bombshell client. None of this was supposed to be happening, and he turned and ordered a Scotch on the rocks from a passing waiter. He needed a drink to clear his head, or maybe just to numb it. “I don't want you saying anything to her,” he warned Allegra as they found their table. It was a table for ten. She and Alan were sitting there, as were Carmen and Michael; a producer friend of her father's she had known for years, and his wife, who had been a very famous actress in the forties; a couple Allegra had never heard of before, which was rare; and Warren Beatty and Annette Bening. “I mean that, Allegra,” Alan said again. “I don't want you mixing in, and trying to start something here.”
“Who said I was going to mix in?” she said with the innocence of an angel as Carmen joined them. She was looking a little more at ease, and she looked up at Alan with huge blue eyes and a big grin as he sat down beside her. They talked for a few minutes, and then Allegra slipped away to see some friends. Several of the senior partners from the law firm were there, and almost all of their most important clients. Her parents had a table filled with their closest friends, most of them directors and producers, and the star of her father's latest picture. It was old home week for all of them, and Allegra was totally at ease as she floated through the crowd saying hello to people she knew well, and laughing here and there with an old friend, most of them either movie stars, writers, producers, or directors. There were also studio and network people heavily in evidence. It was an incredibly important evening.
“You're looking great,” Jack Nicholson commented as she skipped past, and she thanked him. He was one of her father's oldest friends, and she and Streisand exchanged a nod. She wasn't sure if Streisand knew who she was, but she certainly knew Allegra's mother, Blaire Scott. And Allegra was particularly pleased to stop and chat with Sherry Lansing. It was also somewhat reassuring to note that a lot of men were looking at her with open admiration. In some ways, Brandon was so restrained that it was rare to get this kind of reinforcement from him. Even among the stars, Allegra could hold her own. And in a way, that always surprised her.
The Wedding Page 7