InHap*pily Ever After

by Kim Desalvo

  As soon as her face disappeared from his screen, he leaned back in his chair and chewed absently on the end of his pen. Damn, she really believed that she and Miller had something going on; quite the opposite of what he’d said in the seemingly endless interviews over the past few days. What had Angela said about her former boss? He sifted through the file until he found the dialogue from her initial interview. Obsessed; freak show; unwilling to consider any other outcome than the one she’d written for herself.

  Crime of passion, he jotted on his note pad. Well, crimes, in this instance, but all orbiting around the same nucleus—her obsession with Miller and the belief that she could make him fall in love with her. If he played it right, he might be able to swing it so that her time was spent in one of those cushy Hollywood psych hospitals instead of prison. The feds had much bigger things to worry about than a desperate actress with a pathetic crush. It wasn’t national security or anything; and aside from the happy couple, no one else was really hurt by the whole thing. He pulled the pen from his mouth, wiped the end of it on the back of his tie, and started jotting some notes.

  Penelope recognized the wheezing and the heavy shuffle of the guard coming down the corridor. His name was Eddie, she thought, and he was the only person in this whole damn place who didn’t snicker at her every time he walked by; in fact, he seemed to go out of his way to be nice to her. He was a hideous creature; short and stocky with a shock of bright red hair that stuck out from his head in untamable clumps and pock marks all over his blotchy, pinched face. He was also, she realized, exactly what she needed to get a message out to her fans and to make a plea to Dylan. She turned on some tears as he came around the corner and prepared quickly for her next act.

  “Ma’am? Are you OK? Aren’t you gonna to go to dinner?”

  “Please, just leave me alone. Why do you have to be so mean to me?”

  Eddie winced. He was one of the only people in this place who wasn’t badmouthing the actress. Everyone else seemed to think that it was hilarious how she went from the top of the world to the bottom of the barrel in just a few short days, but he could see where she was coming from. It wasn’t like she was a criminal—she’d been in love with someone and had gone to some desperate measures to get him to return her feelings. The way his co-workers were talking, you’d think she offed the other chick or something. Eddie knew all too well what it was like not to have someone return your affections; he’d been there more times than he could count. Why couldn’t anyone see that she was just a beautiful, misunderstood woman who needed a friend? He could be that friend to her, if only she’d let him.

  “I’m really sorry,” he said softly. “About everything. I don’t think you’re a horrible person. You really loved him, didn’t you?”

  Penelope sat up and wiped her face. “I still do,” she whispered back, putting all the pathetic whine she could muster into her voice. “No one understands what I’m going through; no one cares about my side of the story.”

  “I do,” he said, coming around the corner into her view. “I know exactly how you feel.”

  She looked up at him and forced a grim smile. “You do?”

  He hovered outside the door of her cell and fidgeted nervously. “I really do. I wish there was something I could do to help you, Miss Valentine.”

  “Oh please, call me Penelope,” she said sweetly.

  “Um, OK, Penelope. I’m Eddie.”

  “I know.”

  “You know my name?”

  “Of course I do, Eddie. How could I not know the name of the only decent human being in this whole place? You’ve always been nice to me, and I appreciate that more than I can tell you. I’m afraid I haven’t always been as nice to you, and I’m sorry about that. I just don’t know what I’m doing here and I’m so confused, you know? I’m so far away from home and I have no contact with the outside world while they make a mockery of me without giving me a chance to defend myself.” She stood up and took his hands in her own, smiling up at him with all the gratitude she could summon. He stiffened at her touch, but recovered and smiled back at her warmly. God, even his teeth are offensive, she thought, but she managed to keep the smile on her face.

  “It’s not right the way they treat you. I keep telling them.”

  “Would you really help me, Eddie? Because there’s something I really need to do, and I can’t do it on my own.” She batted her eyelashes at him and gave him her best doe-eyed look. “I’d be forever grateful to you.”

  Eddie took a step back and began wringing his hands. Even without makeup she was a stunning woman, he thought, and even though he knew she’d never give him a passing glance on a regular day, the way that she was looking at him now made him want to turn the whole world upside-down for her. He looked around nervously, very aware that he could get into some serious trouble and maybe even lose his job if he did anything against the rules.

  “Oh Eddie, I’m not going to ask you to bust me out or anything,” she smiled, laying her hand on his arm. “I’m not even going to ask you to take out Madeline for me, although that would seriously make my day.”

  Eddie guffawed like a braying mule. “Oh, she’s such a bitch, isn’t she?” he whispered.

  “That she is,” Penelope agreed, pressing her palms together as if in prayer and leaning close enough to get a good whiff of the man’s BO.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked.

  “I need to get my message out there, Eddie, that’s all. I need to tell my fans that I’m still the person they’ve always known and thank them for sticking by me. I need to tell my own story, and get a message to Dylan.” She pressed her lips together and looked at him from drooped lids. “I have to say I’m sorry, Eddie,” she choked, fresh tears spilling from her eyes, “for the pain I’ve caused my family, my fans, and especially Dylan. Even if he hates me, I still want him to be happy, and I need him to know that.”

  She took one look at the indecision on his face, and knew she had to ramp up her game. He could get into some serious trouble for helping her, obviously, but even though his bottom line didn’t matter to her one bit, hers was dependent on having an ally. If he gave her get what she needed, she’d make sure he stayed out of it.

  “No one would ever know,” she whispered, stepping toward him and laying the palm of her hand on his repulsive cheek. She wasn’t sure if any amount of soap would wash off the grease and disgust, but she was willing to chance it. She saw his eyes widen for a second, then he leaned into her hand and his face softened.

  “What do you need?”

  Ten minutes later, she sat in a stinking janitor closet with his cell phone in her hand. She hit the record button, and started to speak.

  “Hello my wonderful fans,” she whispered. “I want to thank you all for standing by me through this horrible ordeal—you are the reason I wake up every morning in this God-forsaken place. I’m heartbroken by the lies and exaggerations you’re being told and I need to tell you my side of the story…”

  Chapter 11

  It was a balmy 82 degrees when they touched down in Melbourne; a far cry from the cold and snow they’d left behind in New York. They were the first ones off the plane, and were hustled through the entry point by a sandy-haired host who claimed to be a die-hard InHap fan. As they approached the big red sign for the meeting point Tia saw Kelley Miller standing beneath it, a huge smile on her face. Tia recognized her not just from pictures she’d seen, but because she could see Dylan in the color of her hair, the blue of her eyes, and the tilt of her smile. Kelley rushed up and threw her arms around her son, then embraced Tia before Dylan even had a chance to introduce them. “You are an absolute gift, Tia,” she whispered into her ear as she hugged her. “I am so glad that you’re finally here.” Her accent was thicker than Dylan’s, and was definitively Aussie, without Dylan’s hint of Brit.

  “Thank you so much,” she said. “I’m really happy to finally meet you. Dylan’s told me so much about you.”

  “And believe me, h
e’s told me a lot about you. I feel as if I already know you, and meeting you is just a formality.”

  “I guess introductions aren’t necessary, then,” Dylan smirked. He linked one arm around his mother and the other around Tia. “It’s so good to finally have my two best girls together,” he smiled, kissing the tops of their heads in turn and pulling them tight.

  “Your dad’s circling the airport,” she said. “Let’s get your luggage and head for home. I’m so glad to be able to spend Christmas with my baby! It’s been years.”

  “Too many years,” Dylan answered. “It’s great to be home, Mum.”

  “And you’ve brought us the very best present,” she said, squeezing Tia’s arm behind Dylan’s back.

  They’d made no secret of the fact that they’d be in Australia for the holidays, and fully expected the group of photographers and reporters that stood around the luggage carousel, their eyes sweeping over the mass of humanity that paraded through the area. Their host was already directing an attendant toward them with their luggage, and they told the security guard that they were happy to pose for some photos and answer some questions.

  “There they are!” a balding, heavyset man bellowed and it was like someone fired a starting pistol. All eyes turned in the direction of the media, and the crowd followed as they approached the couple.

  “Dylan! Tia! Could we have a couple moments of your time, please?”

  “I’ll just go see about that luggage,” Kelley smiled, bending her index finger toward the host as Dylan and Tia smiled for the cameras.

  “Absolutely,” Dylan said, turning on his rock star charm and striding toward them confidently, his hand outstretched. “How you all doing today?”

  The flashes of the cameras made them a blur of faces and voices, so Tia just smiled in their general direction.

  “Welcome home, Dylan, and welcome to Australia, Tia; is this your first time Down Under?”

  “Yes, it is. I’ve always wanted to visit—I’m really glad to finally be here.”

  “What are you most looking forward to doing on your holiday?”

  “Honestly? After the crazy week we just had, I’m mostly looking forward to spending some quiet time with Dylan, and getting to know his family.” She leaned in and smiled. “Of course, it’s an amazing country, and I want to see as much as I possibly can in the short time we’re here. It probably sounds lame to you, but I can’t wait to see kangaroos, koalas, wombats…I just love the outdoors. There is so much I want to see, but a couple weeks isn’t even close to enough time to do it all. I’m glad we’ll be coming back many times.”

  “I can’t wait to show her some of the places that meant so much to me when I was growing up,” Dylan added. “It’s so good to finally bring her home.”

  “Tia, can you tell us what you’re feeling right now?”

  “Like the luckiest woman in the world,” she said, smiling up at Dylan.

  “How about you, Dylan?”

  He wrapped his arm around Tia and smiled. “I’ve got my baby girl back…how do you think I’m feeling?” He planted a kiss on Tia’s lips and flashed the paparazzi a wink. “I’m positively brilliant.”

  “You’re meeting his family for the first time, right?”

  “Yes she is, and I can’t wait a minute longer. Tia hasn’t had a chance to meet my dad yet, and I’d really like to make those introductions. It’s been nice chatting with you all, but I hope you’ll excuse us.” He grabbed Tia’s hand and got only two steps toward the exit before a tall blonde in a short green dress stepped out and thrust a microphone toward Tia’s face.

  “Tia, Callie Strong from WHO. I’m wondering if you might give us a statement in response to Penelope Valentine’s comments about you and her relationship with Dylan.”

  Tia narrowed her eyes and shot a quick glance at Dyl, who merely shrugged in return. “I’m sorry, but I’m not aware of any comments she’s made. My understanding is that she isn’t being allowed to make any public statements except through her attorney.”

  “Well, she somehow got a video up on her Facebook page last night. Oh—you were probably in the air when it came out. I could summarize for you; she said…”

  Dylan slung his arm around her protectively and headed immediately for the exit. “Not interested in the slightest,” he called over his shoulder as they made a hasty retreat, waving off and apologizing to the onlookers thrusting papers toward them for autographs. “Have a Happy Christmas, everyone—I know I will!” The paparazzi followed them and continued snapping pictures, but the rest of their questions were lost in the din of the crowd.

  “Don’t think about it,” Dylan said. “I know it’s hard, but it doesn’t matter one iota what she says, and this isn’t the time to worry about it. We’ll deal with it on our terms and in our own time. Can you do that?”

  “I’m going to do my very best,” she said, squeezing his hand. They stepped out the door and saw Kelley and the man who could only be Dylan’s dad waving at them from a short distance away. She pushed it to the back of her mind and greeted Steve Miller with a smile.

  All of Tia’s trepidation left her within minutes of pulling away from the curb. Conversation began easily enough, with Steve and Kelley asking Tia general questions about herself, but before long, they fell into the comfortable bantering of a close-knit family that hadn’t seen in each other in a while. Tia sat back and laughed as Steve and Dylan joked and made digs at each other while Kelley rolled her eyes in fake exasperation. By the time they rolled down the long driveway of the Miller home, Tia felt as if she’d known them for much longer than the forty minutes they had spent in the car.

  The house was comfortable and warm—not huge, but set on a sprawling piece of property that boasted lots of mature trees, a huge deck overlooking an expansive garden full of sculptures and colorful blooms, and huge windows that let in lots of natural light. Every room was tastefully decorated with a combination of Kelley’s incredible art and family heirlooms. Walls and tables were dotted with a wide variety of family photos that featured Dylan at various ages as well as his sister, Shelby. Dylan blushed when Steve led Tia into his “office;” a room dedicated to their son’s success. “Ah, dads, you know,” he muttered as Steve pointed out Dylan’s first guitar, tour posters from one of his early bands, “Slingshot,” and an entire wall full of articles and magazine covers.

  “This is my personal favorite,” Tia smiled, pointing to the “Sexiest Man” cover.

  “Yeah, I have to say I felt a bit odd hanging that one,” Steve snickered. “Kind of hard to think about the feral kid who we could barely force to take a Pommy shower some days as ‘sexy.’ Now I could tell you some stories…”

  Dylan clamped his hand around Steve’s mouth. “I’ll not have you scaring her away with those old fish stories,” he smirked.

  “I didn’t even understand half of it,” Tia giggled. “What’s a Pommy shower?”

  “Never mind,” Dylan said with a laugh. “One thing you’ve got to know about my dad straight off is that he has a tendency to exaggerate, so you should really only believe about half of what he says. And since you never know which half, you may as well just ignore all of it.”

  “I don’t need to exaggerate when it comes to you,” he teased. “You came by it honestly.”

  “Are you two at it already?” Kelley asked. “Really, let Tia get settled, at least, before you start behaving like a couple of children.” She winked at Tia and put out her hand. “Come on. My favorite room to show off is my studio—my incredible son had it added onto the house so I’d have a place all to myself where I could focus my creativity.”

  “Your work is amazing; I can’t wait to see more.”

  They walked down a long hallway into a large room with a high domed ceiling and five tall windows designed to catch the light from every angle at any time of day. A variety of paintings in various stages of completion were propped on easels and against walls, a large, well-used kiln stood in one corner, and various tapestr
ies were draped over tables. Tia’s eyes widened as she took in the incredible pieces, but her breath caught when she saw the painting sitting uncovered atop an easel in the center of the room. “Oh,” she breathed, walking toward it. “It’s Tuscany!” She recognized the scene immediately, and was instantly transported back. She and Dylan had stayed a couple nights in a little villa overlooking a vineyard, and they’d sat on the veranda one night and watched one of the most beautiful sunsets either of them had ever seen. It was one of their last days together before she returned home and Dylan headed for New Zealand, and the mood had been melancholy as they’d sipped a local wine and watched the incredible colors explode the sky and wash over the fruit of the land. Not only had Kelley managed to capture the perfect colors, but somehow she’d also encapsulated the mood of the evening. Tia stepped closer to take in the details; her eyes gravitating to the clusters of grapes that adorned each lower corner. Vines twisted from each cluster, shifting and morphing along the bottom edge of the sunset to become two hands intertwined at the center of the frame, the tendrils binding them together.

  Kelley stood back and let her take it in, pleased that she’d not only recognized the setting but was drawn to the joined hands that were meant to be hers and Dylan’s. He’d shared the photograph with her on his short visit before going to make the film, and repeated what he’d told Tia that night— that he was tangled up in her just like the vines were with each other, and that nothing could undo the love they shared.

  Tia spoke without taking her eyes from the canvas. She could almost feel the cool breeze that had swirled around them that evening, could almost smell the air; tangy and sweetened by the delicate fruits. “I can’t even think of a word to describe how beautiful this is,” she whispered. “Breathtaking doesn’t seem strong enough, but it absolutely does take my breath away. It’s like I could just walk into it and be right back there again.”