Glamour

by Louise Bagshawe

  “You’ll be mobbed. You know you’re getting quite the following. The press seems to love you, Sally.You’re turning into a star.”

  “Girlfriend, please.” Sally opened the door of the Porsche and tossed her long, blonde hair. “I have always been a star.”

  It was only half a joke. In reality, Sally was starting to think of herself that way.The press had a story—riches to rags to riches—and they adored how she combined all-American good looks with design savvy.

  She was it. She was back. She was GLAMOUR.

  She glanced back at Jane’s gorgeous car as she went inside. By the end of this week, Sally promised herself, she’d have a sports car, too. A better one—a Ferrari. And a home in the Hollywood Hills, like any aspiring star too small, at least for now, for a Beverly Hills mansion.

  “Hi,” Sally said, for the fiftieth time.

  She had ducked into the staff bathroom, fixed her makeup, brushed her hair out, and whitened her teeth, and now here she was, smiling at the customers. The fans, as she was starting to think of them.

  “Hi! You’re Sally Lassiter. I saw you in the Citizen. Oh, I just love your stuff, it’s simply too darling.”

  “Why, thank you, ma’am.”

  “And those fabulous little moisturizers from the Dead Sea. I tried one on my hand, and it was so soft and luxurious … and the gift wrap was great.We bought a rug, too, and they’re shipping it.”

  “Satisfaction guaranteed,” Sally said, smiling broadly.“It’s been an honor serving you, ma’am.”

  The fat woman clutched her husband. “Isn’t she amazing?”

  “Amazing,” he said, looking Sally over with a mixture of lust and resignation.

  “You know, sir,” she said, deftly wrapping the woman’s Ghadan disk bracelet, “we have an electronics area on the third floor. It sells gadgets and the TV screens are permanently tuned to sports. We also provide armchairs and couches to sit in, if you’d like to wait while the lady shops… .”

  “Get out of here,” he said, blinking. “Really?”

  “Yes, sir. And there are waiters serving pretzels and ice-cold beer.”

  The wife looked hopefully at her husband.

  “Kitty,” he said, “you enjoy yourself, honey, charge whatever you like.This is a hell of a store.”

  He lumbered upstairs and Sally rang up the wife’s purchase.

  “You see, ma’am,” she stage-whispered, “that was my idea. That area—it’s like a crèche for husbands.”

  The fat wife giggled. “Wonderful! Fabulous. What a brilliant idea, I shall tell all my friends.”

  “Please do. And keep shopping.” Sally winked at her, and she went away satisfied.

  “So tell me,” said a low voice, one she recognized, “do those TV screens also show baseball?”

  Chris Nelson was standing in front of her. Today, he wore a nondescript blue shirt and khakis.

  “I—yes, sir.They do.”

  He leaned in a little closer, his eyes moving across her body. Sally felt acutely aware of the extra button that was open at the top of her blouse; her lips moistened, and parted.

  “Don’t call me sir,” he said, his voice low. “Got that, sugar?”

  “Yes”—she wanted to say “Mr. Nelson,” but dared not give him away—“Chris.”

  “Better.” He gave her a lazy smile. “Pretty busy place you got here.”

  “It’s just the first day.” Oh, God! He was so handsome. Sally stiffened her back and lifted her head. She had to fight this. “Maybe you could get Letty to come here and shop. We have some special cosmetic ranges for all skin tones. Or she might like our perfume section, or a handcrafted mosaic from Jordan.”

  “How’s your mom doing?” he asked, ignoring her catty response. Sally blushed.

  “Well. Thank you.” She lowered her head. “Sorry, that was uncalled-for, I—I know you didn’t mean to hit on me or anything.”

  “Sure I did.”

  Her head lifted.“What? I don’t fool around with other women’s men.”

  “Even me?”

  Arrogant bastard! “Yes, even you,” she snapped. “But I’ll send Ms. Berry an engagement gift to your office, no charge.”

  “It wouldn’t reach her.” He looked at her, amused. Toying with her, Sally thought, with a fresh rush of heat. “We’re not engaged. So send any gifts to her own office.”

  She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “And to clarify, we’re not going out, either.We split up.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s between me and her,” he said, easily enough, but firmly. “She’s a wonderful woman.”

  Not that damn wonderful, Sally thought, annoyed.

  “So what time do you get off work?”

  “Whenever I want to. I’m the boss.”

  “Then maybe you can buy me a cup of coffee,” he suggested. “Apologize for forgetting my dog.”

  “You want me to ask you on a date?”

  “What’s the matter? Not a modern woman?”

  Sally tossed her hair. “I don’t beg.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he said, softly, and she felt her stomach turn inside out and her knees weaken. “But for now … coffee?”

  Sally’s throat went dry. She turned to the sales assistant, a bright Korean woman whose smile never failed. “You can finish up here, right?”

  “Yes, Miss Lassiter. Of course.”

  “Thanks.” Sally came out from behind the counter, feeling naked now that she was so close to him.To distract her, she asked, “How come you haven’t been mobbed?”

  “In here?You got to be kidding, this is estrogen central. Maybe if I went upstairs. To the husbands’ holding zone.” He grinned. “Now that is a smart idea.”

  “Where are you parked?”

  “Right outside. And I left the dog at home. Come on, I know a great place we can get something.”

  Sally followed him, meekly, her head down; she didn’t want to be stopped either. Not right now.The store, her success, none of it seemed to matter. He was all she could think about. She hoped to hell it didn’t show.

  As they left the store, he slipped his shades back on, and put one arm possessively round her shoulders; as a couple maybe they’d attract less attention.

  “Hey!” a voiced called.They were almost at his car—she recognized it, a large Jeep, top of the range.“Aren’t you Chris? Chris Nelson?”

  “Not today, pal.”

  “That’s Chris Nelson,” somebody else shouted.

  “Oh, my God!” a woman squealed. “I love him!”

  “What now?” Sally asked, dismayed.

  He chuckled. “Run!”

  They made it to the car with moments to spare. Chris opened the passenger door, Sally jumped in, and he wound up her tinted window; within seconds they were inside. She watched as he wound down his own window, where a thick little knot of fans was banging on the glass, and smiled broadly.

  “Hey, it’s good to see you folks.” They cheered wildly.“Enjoy shopping at GLAMOUR?”

  “We love you!”

  “Thanks for all your support.” He reached out his hand and brushed at various grasping fingertips. “I better get to practice, we have to whup those Cardinals Monday, right?” They cheered again. “See you guys here again, maybe. It’s a great store.”

  Then he pressed the button, the window wound up, and he put the Jeep into gear. The crowd scattered, obediently, waving, and he spun the wheel and deftly took the Jeep into the anonymity of the L.A. traffic.

  “You’re very good at that,” she said.

  He smiled. “I’ve had a little bit of practice.”

  “So where is this place?”

  “Malibu. Out on the coast, not too far. It’s tucked away and they know me there. Nobody bothers you, plus, they have an open-air terrace overlooking the ocean.” He glanced at her. “Don’t worry.We won’t get too near the edge.”

  Sally laughed. “Okay, then.”

  Suddenly he turned the car and pulle
d into a lay-by.

  “You made a wrong turn?”

  “No.” He looked across at her, light eyes hot. “I just want to introduce myself properly.”

  Sally blushed, her skin tensing, and Nelson reached across the car, put one large, callused hand behind the soft skin of her neck, and tugged her to him. His mouth crushed hers, his tongue probing deeply across her teeth, the roof of her mouth. His left hand brushed lightly, teasing, across her breasts. Sally felt desire so intense rock through her, she could hardly contain herself; she kissed him back with helpless passion….

  And then hated herself for it. Why? Why had she done that? What girl didn’t melt in the arms of the big superstar? She fought, and reluctantly broke away from him. Thank God her bra was padded, and he couldn’t see exactly how turned on she was.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “I had to,” he said simply.“Sally, I’ve been thinking about you for weeks.Why do you think I broke up with Letty?”

  Then, without giving her time to think, he started up the car again, put his shades back on, and concentrated on the road.

  Sally was grateful; she turned her head aside and looked out the window. Hoping he could not see her smile. Hoping he could not smell her desire. Oh, God! She had to be careful, now. Going out with somebody like Chris Nelson was fun, but it could never last.Too many girls, everywhere, too much competition.

  She had to be careful not to fall in love.

  “Good to see you again, Mr. Nelson. And Miss Lassiter, welcome.”

  Sally’s eyes widened. Sensing her nerves, Chris slipped her hand into his.

  “I’ve got everything ready, sir, just as you ordered. This way, please.”

  The maître d’ conducted them through the expensive-looking restaurant—Sally recognized two movie stars and a senator—out to a terrace at the back, a manicured lawn surrounded by topiary hedges and climbing roses wound over trellises. There was a single table, directly overlooking the ocean, set with a crisp white cloth and beeswax candles in silver holders. A large silver bucket on a stand held a chilled magnum of champagne; from here Sally could see it was vintage Pol Roget.There was a bowl of crushed ice, filled with fruits—nectarines, plums, crisp-looking grapes—a luxurious arrangement of green and white flowers, and a series of small dishes set out across the table.

  “Tapas,” Sally said, surprised. “I love tapas.”

  Chris grinned. “I know.”

  The maître d’ showed them to their table, uncorked and served the champagne, and then melted discreetly away.

  “Here’s to the start of something,” he suggested. And she drank, thankfully, in the hope that the wine would make her feel less nervous.

  “How did you know I liked tapas? And how does he know my name?”

  “After that day I did some research on you.” He shrugged. “Read that article again. Asked around. Found your store on Melrose was closed, and had my assistants tell me what you were doing, with those other girls. I thought it was pretty ballsy stuff.”

  “You researched me?” she asked, outraged.

  “That’s right,” he said, easily. “And I bet you researched me, too.Went and looked up my stats on ESPN. Didn’t you?”

  Sally blushed scarlet. She had. And more.

  “But that waiter?”

  “I told him I was coming here with you, as my date. No questions about Letty, we’d broken up.”

  “You used to bring her here?”

  “Of course.” He shrugged. “It’s my favorite restaurant. Have one of those spiced ham slices and you’ll see why.”

  “But …” Sally was trying to process it. It felt like Chris Nelson was three steps ahead of her. Maybe because he was, she thought, and found the idea to be totally erotic.“That means you knew I’d say yes.”

  “I did know it.”

  “Isn’t that arrogant?”

  He gave her a lazy grin. “Sally, I’ve known a lot of women. And I know how they look at you.You were interested, that day. You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to. I knew once I’d finished with Letty you’d see me.”

  “Good job you were right, or you’d have lost your girlfriend for nothing,” Sally said, acidly.

  “It was.” He picked up a plate of vine leaves stuffed with rice. “Try one. I ordered them specially for you.”

  She bit into one; it was delicious, the herbed oils drizzled a little across her lips. She licked it away, and blushed again. Everything she did here seemed to be charged with sex.

  “I’m a virgin,” she blurted out.

  His eyebrows lifted; the first time she had surprised him.

  “You’re not a teenager anymore, are you?”

  Sally shook her head.

  “Then don’t worry,” he said. “We can fix that.”

  She felt herself almost dizzy with wanting him.

  “I’m not—not going to. Not with you.”

  “And what’s wrong with me?” He was leaning forward now, eating, but not concentrating; his eyes never seemed to leave her body.

  “You’re too much,” she said. “You’re too good-looking, and strong, and you saved my mom …”

  “I hope that’s not going to be a strike against me.”

  “You’re famous. Like, really famous. And rich. And you date supermodels.”

  “One. Singular.”

  “You’re so …” She flailed, wishing she could be as cool as Jane or Haya, find some fancy words to finesse it, instead of saying what she meant. “You’re so damn hot.”

  “So far, this doesn’t sound like a list of crimes of the century.”

  “Stop playing with me!” Sally said passionately. “You know what I mean. So I sleep with you, you get what you want, you dump me, and I’m left pining after you like some bitch in heat. And you move on to the next chick. Some actress or another model …”

  Nelson’s face softened.

  “I’m a virgin and …”

  “Saving it up for marriage?”

  She blushed, defensively. “Somebody special, anyway. Special to me.”

  He sighed. “Well, I guess nothing’s gonna happen tonight. Although you’d have enjoyed it.”

  She could hardly deny it; he’d had her leaping and squirming in his arms, just from a kiss.

  “Maybe tonight, yes. But what about tomorrow? I have to be careful.” She lifted her chin defiantly.“I know who you are, Chris Nelson. But I know who I am, too.”

  “Okay, then,” he replied, and gave her a warm smile. “You’re something else, Miss Lassiter. No more pushing. But I want to tell you something.”

  “Go ahead.” Sally took her flute of champagne, drained it, and poured herself another; his smile broadened.

  “You want to accuse me of having laid a lot of girls. I’ll tell you right now, guilty as charged. I started in school as the best batter in the team. Went up the minors. Got drafted in college. All the way through, I got raging hormones and I got the prettiest young girls throwing themselves at me.You do the math.”

  She nodded, smiling slightly. At least he was honest.

  “Only thing I can say is I used a condom, because my elder brother wound up knocking up this girl he quickly grew to hate, marrying her, and getting divorced after eight miserable years. Rough on the kid. Anyway, same time I hit the bigs, it starts to get old. Can’t tell you why—just did. I looked down on them, started to look down on myself. Waking up in a strange room with some random broad who might start crying, or stalking me, gets to be a headache.” He paused. “And this may sound dumb but I started thinking about my aunt Esme, who raised me since my mom died when I was two. She’s like a mom to me. Anyway, she’s been married to Uncle Jake for twenty years and they have three kids apart from me. Didn’t used to have much money but they were always happy. I want that.”

  “They didn’t used to have money?”

  “I bought them a house and some cars and gave them a bank account. My cousins, too.They’re all millionaires now. Anyway, I decided to c
ut out all the one-night stands, grow up and pick a girl. So I decided she had to be especially beautiful—like you say, there’s a lot of temptation. And also strong, because I don’t want to be bored. When I met Letty, she seemed like a good fit. Also she was as rich as hell, so I knew she wasn’t a gold digger.”

  “Makes sense,” Sally said, hating Letty Berry.

  “It was never great, but it was pretty good. We went out for five years, and I never cheated on her.”

  “So what happened?”

  He ate a chicken wing.“Told you, baby.You did. Just—I don’t know what.You looked pretty, when your mom was safe. Messed up, but pretty. Brave. Polite. You carried yourself different from most girls, when you knew who I was. Reserved.” He shrugged. “Even though I could see you wanted me. Of course I told myself it was only an intense moment, nothing to get worked up about.”

  Sally smiled; she had thought the same.

  “But then I started looking you up. Your guts. Your talent. How you looked after your mother, not just that day at the cliff. You and your friends.They’re cute, too—”

  Sally frowned.

  “I mean, nothing like you, though! And you know, I started to think about you all the time. I used to take a detour and drive past your store and watch the trucks loading in the stock. It was really happening.What kind of a twenty-something girl does that shit? They’re all wasting Daddy’s money at college, working on their MRS degrees. And one night, I was with Letty and I started thinking about you. Closest I ever came to cheating on her.” Sally blushed. “I broke up with her the next day.”

  “Was she upset?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I’m sorry …”

  “Are you?”

  “Sorry she was hurt.”

  “If I loved her for real, I wouldn’t have been thinking about you.” He smiled and reached for his own wine, draining it, then refilling his glass and topping hers up. “Not going to say I love you, I hardly know you.You might be a psychopath. But if you want to wait to find out before you slide into bed with me, that’s cool. I can wait.” He paused. “As long as it takes.”

  Sally smiled. “Thank you.” She wanted to reach out and take his hand, but he drew away.