Roxanne didn’t harbor any delusions about Frank or the predicament she’d gotten herself into. She knew she’d have to tell him the truth. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. In the end, there would be no easy way to achieve this task. No matter what method she used, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
By the time Candy arrived at Bennigan’s the restaurant was already packed with the afternoon crowd. That worried Candy since lots of people tended to inspire over-zealous fans. She kept her Sun Clouds on as she made her way through the restaurant, following the hostess back to the secluded table where Rich was waiting for her.
When she was no more than a few paces from his table, Rich stood. “Hello, Candy.” He brushed his lips against her cheek. “You’re looking well.”
She smiled and sat down. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said, taking off her shades.
“Your waitress will be right with you.” The hostess placed menus on the table. “Can I bring you something to drink in the meantime?”
“Can I get a draft?” Candy needed a drink.
“Two,” Rich said, and the hostess was off.
He passed a menu to Candy, along with a smile that she figured he probably wasn’t aware of. His eyes crackled with fire, sending her heart into a frenzied outburst. Looking at him now, the realization of just how much she’d missed him came back to haunt her. She wanted him to hold her and comfort her and tell her everything was going to be okay. But she didn’t hold out much hope for that happening.
“I…ah…I guess I owe you an explanation,” she said, desperately trying to think of one.
“You don’t owe me anything.” He let her off the hook.
Rich didn’t see the sense in getting all uptight over something he no longer cared about. He’d come there for one reason and it wasn’t Candy. All Rich wanted to know was if Roxanne’s kid belonged to Frank. All the rest, he didn’t give a damn about. Well, that’s what he told himself.
Someone popped over and dropped off two mugs and a pitcher of beer. Candy smiled and Rich nodded and filled the glasses.
“Well, I’d like to give you one anyway,” she said, taking the glass he offered. “Just as soon as I can think of something.” She laughed.
“Candy, you had every right to go anywhere you wanted. Without permission from me.” His words rang coolly in her ears.
Their waitress appeared, easing the tension a little. “Are you ready to order?” she asked with a smile as she glanced back and forth between them. Recognition lit her eyes.
Rich mumbled a couple of orders and waved the waitress away. Turning back to Candy, he said, “You’ve done well for yourself. Both you and Roxanne.”
“I might say the same for you, too. Three albums.”
That told him she knew all about Garrett-Hollander’s achievements.
“Well...” He tried not to laugh at the thought of comparing Candy and Roxanne’s Cinderella story to his and Frank’s eleventh hour reprieve. “Our success didn’t come as easily as yours.”
“Well, most of what happened to us was accidental, especially on my part.”
“I guess you were in the right place at the right time, huh?” There was a degree of certainty in his words.
A group of waiters and waitresses had gathered around the corner, securely hidden from view.
“She’s right,” a waiter declared. “That’s Rich Hollander and Candy Simon.”
“What are they doing in Tampa?” another asked, skeptical.
“Garrett-Hollander’s from Tampa,” someone announced proudly.
“Ooh!” another joined in, excited. “I saw Candy’s sister, Roxanne Simon, on Lauren Weber’s talk show the other day. Lauren was asking her about G-H, too. Roxanne acted like she didn’t know much about them…but Lauren thinks her kid belongs to Frank Garrett.”
“I saw that show,” someone else said. “Roxanne didn’t give Lauren’s allegation any merit.” She paused, as if considering the possibility again and then gave her head a decisive shake. “I don’t believe it.”
Rich and Candy’s waitress finally spoke up. “Well, there may not be anything going on between Roxanne Simon and Frank Garrett...but there’s certainly something going on between those two,” she said of Rich and Candy.
Back in the dining area, Rich peered into Candy’s eyes. “The reason I asked you to meet me is because I have to ask you something.” He paused, wondering if his efforts were useless. He knew Candy would do whatever she deemed necessary to protect Roxanne. She’d proved that five years ago.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“I saw Roxanne on TV the other day. I want to know if it’s true?”
“What?”
“Is that Frank’s kid?”
“Frankie?” she said, like that was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard.
“Yes.” Rich stopped, hesitating on purpose. “Frankie.” He didn’t want to put too much emphasis on the boy’s name. There was always the chance that it had nothing to do with Frank. A small chance. But the likelihood was there that Roxanne had named her son after her father, and not Frank at all. Still, no matter who the kid was named after—if Frank was the boy’s father, Rich had to tread lightly because if Candy got the idea that she was being backed into a corner, she’d clam up and he wouldn’t end up learning a damned thing.
Candy didn’t say anything for the longest time. Instead, she searched her brain for a way out of this one. She wasn’t the world’s best liar and everybody knew that. Including Rich. Then, all of a sudden, it hit her and salvation, in the form of the truth, came to her.
“Seems to me,” she said, “that I recall Kirk Bronson claimed to be Frankie’s father.” And that was in fact what actually happened. Truth could be a relative thing when Candy found a way to entangle it with a seed of reality. “Publicly too. And it cost him his marriage.” She gave Rich a little smile. “Now, it wouldn’t make much sense for him to do something like that if it weren’t true, now would it?”
Rich felt the defeat closing in on him. He gave Candy credit for the performance she’d just turned in. “You’re not going tell me…are you?” He didn’t wait for her to respond, knowing she wouldn’t. Instead he yielded, saying, “congratulations.”
She looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“The awards,” he said. “You deserve every one they ever gave you. And many more” He wasn’t overlooking the acting she’d just done on his behalf. Resentment set in and Rich stopped talking. He wasn’t going to get what he’d come for. It didn’t take much to realize that today was all about protecting Roxanne.
After they were done eating, Rich and Candy argued over who would pay the bill. Finally, they agreed that he’d buy lunch and she could leave a tip.
Quietly, they headed outside. Neither of them said anything as they strolled along the sidewalk next to the restaurant.
“Candy...” Rich finally spoke when they were a few feet from his car. “I must tell you—” He stopped in front of a black Targa. “—the only reason I’m here today is because of Frank.”
“I know.”
“But it’s good to see that you’re okay.”
Candy glanced at the license plate of a white convertible Jaguar parked beside her Porsche. I’M RICH. She laughed softly at the car owner’s audacity.
“Do you like it?” His eyes darted between Candy and the car. “I thought the Jag was a little extravagant, but I do have to keep up with Frank and his Ferrari.”
“This is your car?” Realizing the plates only represented his name, Candy felt like a judgmental jerk. “That’s cute.” She unlocked her car and got inside.
“You take care of yourself,” he said, closing the car’s door.
“Rich...” Candy rolled down the window. “Did…ah…did Frank see the show?”
“I don’t know.”
A wave of remorse and regret washed over Candy. “Rich...?” She latched onto his hand. “Would you do me a favor?”
“That depends.
” He made no move to retrieve his hand from hers.
“Would you meet me at The Other Place tonight? For old time’s sake?” She tried to give him a reason to show up, other than just to see her.
He hesitated and cleared his throat. “All right.” He slipped his hand away from hers. “For old time’s sake.” She got the feeling he meant that. For old time’s sake, and nothing more.
Once Candy arrived back at the house, she went to look for Roxanne. She had to tell her about her meeting with Rich. She found Roxanne sunning by the pool.
Candy explained what had happened, and Roxanne began gathering up her things. “I appreciate it that you covered for me. I know this thing with Rich hasn’t been easy for you.”
“I gotta tell you,” Candy said, “I really don’t think he believed me.”
“Did he say much about Frankie?”
Candy assumed she was talking about Frank. “Not really…he was more interested in little Frankie.”
“Do you think Frank’s in town?”
“Rich didn’t act like he was,” she said, and let it go at that. She purposely forgot to mention she had a date with Rich that evening.
Later that night, Roxanne didn’t give it much thought or bother to ask where Candy was going. Instead, she spent her time convincing herself that Frank wasn’t in town. Denying it was much easier than worrying about it.
Still, she found herself yearning for some familiarity. She longed to find something positive about her affair with Frank Garrett, and contemplated dropping in on The Other Place.
From her car, Candy could see the small crowd hanging out in front of the bar. Somehow she knew Rich stood in the midst of all those people. She hesitated briefly, then pushed herself to open the car door and get out. Nervously, she headed toward the group of people.
Rich’s smile said he’d been enjoying the crowd’s attention, but he cut them off swiftly when he saw her heading his way. “Well, it was nice seeing you all again.”
He strolled toward her with a slow swagger, unaware of the smile crossing his lips as he slipped his hand around hers and kissed her cheek.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said as they entered the bar.
Rich pushed their way through the mass of people. Candy held fast to his hand, following close behind him. The whole scene reminded her of a time so long ago.
They found an empty stool at the small bar in back. Rich stood beside it, gesturing for her to sit.
“Place is pretty crowded, huh?” She hopped up on the bar stool.
“Guess some things never change,” he said, distant.
They ordered drinks and autographed a napkin for the bartender.
Candy sipped on her beer and hesitated before setting the bottle on the bar. “So tell me about your life. Are you happy?”
Fine time to ask me now. “Candy…I’ve learned how to be happy with what I’ve been given.”
“I can understand that,” she said with a slight nod. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“Look…I loved you once. But that’s all behind me now,” he tried to sound convincing. “I have fond memories of you. But that’s it.”
“Well—” Her sharp, piercing laughter stung more than he wanted to admit. “I guess I deserve that.” She avoided eye contact.
Rich touched her chin and brought her gaze back around to meet his. “I hope we can remain friends.”
“But not lovers.”
“You understand, don’t you?”
“Course I do.” She tried to contain the hurt building up inside. “Hell, I’m lucky to attain that.”
“There will always be a special place for you in my heart.”
But never your life. She knew her eyes would give her away, so she looked off behind him and felt her mouth fall practically to the floor.
“Are you all right?”
“I don’t believe it,” she said softly, trying to crouch down behind Rich.
“What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Worse,” she said. “I see Frank.”
Frank leaned against the bar and combed back his fingers through his well-trimmed hair. He took a drink of his beer and then scanned the crowd as he adjusted his Vaurnets.
The sunglasses were a habit he’d acquired while the band recorded the first album. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that his eyes were the mirror to his soul and Roxanne had seen that. He had to make sure that no one else ever accomplished what she’d done when she managed to invade his heart. After that, Frank was determined that no one would ever peer into his baby blues again. From that moment on, he was never seen anywhere, by anyone, without a pair of shades.
Frank had quickly figured out how to keep women at a distance, but it had taken a lot longer to realize he couldn’t turn any of them into Roxanne. No matter what he did to make them look like her—whether it be matching her hair color, or fitting them with contacts that somehow missed the mark on her violet eyes—he just couldn’t seem to get any of them to act like her. He’d long since tired of looking at other women with similar resemblances and being reminded of Roxanne. Just once he wanted to see the real thing, and not up on some silver screen or in any magazine.
Frank stared absently across the bar and suddenly it hit him. There she sat, directly across from him. And it wasn’t some look-alike. Oh no, this was the real thing. He’d loved her and he’d hated her all too much over the last five years not to know her when he saw her.
Their eyes locked. Frank was wrapped in relief but it didn’t last long, pushed aside by anger and rage that suddenly filtered out and stretched across the bar.
Roxanne’s expression stilled, then grew alarmed. She tucked her purse under her arm and bolted for the door.
No. Frank chased after her. No way would he let her get away again. Not this time.
Anxiously, he pushed his way through the crowd. They were grabbing at him. Calling out to him. Trying to stop him. Trying to talk to him. But he didn’t want to talk to any of them. He only wanted to get to Roxanne. More than anything else he wanted to catch her and make her explain why she’d betrayed him.
Frank rushed outside, finding only a crowded parking lot and a few people hanging around. He didn’t see Roxanne anywhere. Searching desperately, he tried to see her out there somewhere. Anywhere. He didn’t pay much attention to the red Porsche as it sped away. Instead, he hurried through the parking lot, quickly scanning each vehicle as he passed it by. His efforts were fruitless.
Nearing exhaustion, he slowed to a trot and then a walk. Finally, he accepted it; she was no longer there. Not anymore.
Desolation setting in, he headed back toward the bar. Cruising along the side of the building, he cursed himself silently. He’d come so close. Yet, she’d slipped through his fingers, once again. But now, Frank wanted to find her more than ever.
Hatefully, he kicked the side of the building, but failed to release his anger.
***
Chapter 14
Frank walked back into the nightclub, seemingly right back where he started. The fact that Roxanne had gotten away from him before was bad enough, but she’d done it again.
He’d find her one day. Oh, yes he would. And when he did, she’d pay for every rotten thing she’d ever done to him. His day would come, because it was his will. He just wanted that day to be now.
Frank pushed his way back up to the bar and ordered another beer. He turned, leaned against the railing and scanned the crowd even though he knew it was useless. He wasn’t going to find her, not in here anyway. She was long gone.
He picked up his beer and casually took a swallow. He felt pretty helpless since he had no idea where to look for her, and he sought desperately to think of a solution. In all his dismay he realized something—something pretty great, in fact. He happened to be staring right at his pal Rich. And right behind Rich sat Candy.
Frank’s thoughts filled rapidly with a newfound hope because where there was Candy, one could always be led to Rox
anne. Flashing an unbeatable smile to no one in particular, he headed toward them.
Candy saw Frank approaching and pulled Rich in front of her. “Here. If I’m behind you, maybe he won’t notice me.”
“Why are you afraid of Frank?” Rich asked. “He’s not gonna hurt you.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” she said, trying her best to hide behind him.
Frank stopped in front of Rich.
“What’s up?” Rich said to him. “When did you get in?”
Frank ignored his question. Instead, he looked over Rich’s shoulder, directly at Candy. “Hello, Candy.” He paused, for the sole reason of irritating her nerves. “Or should I say…Ms. Cantrell?” he said with such sarcasm that it implied he knew everything about the last five years.
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