And Playing the Role of Herself...

by K E Lane

  "Liz is right. Now have fun, and wear something with cleavage."

  "Yeah, yeah…"

  She laughed as she hung up and I closed my phone absently, thinking about the appointments I'd need to rearrange next week, calling Perry to get him to talk with James for me, and of course Robyn, who was now a constant presence in my thoughts.

  My panic earlier had been completely for her benefit, and in reaction to any consequences exposure would have had on our relatively shaky relationship. The thought of any other consequences - my family, career, friends - hadn't even crossed my mind, but I thought of them now.

  Mom and Larry would be confused but generally supportive, Grandma might be a little scandalized, Perry would think it was cool, and Sebastian would call me a filthy, whoring, sinner. Nothing new there.

  I had another two years on my contract with 9P - there were, of course, ways to get rid of me if they wanted, but considering the new direction my part was taking anyway, I doubted it would be an issue. After 9P, or picking up anything substantial on hiatus? Well, that was an unknown. There were plenty of gay actors in the biz, but not so many out ones. So future fallout to my career had yet to be seen.

  And finally, friends. Old college friends might be a bit thrown; Toby, who I still loved dearly as a friend and kept in touch with, would probably come up with some statistical model that would have predicted this happening, and my friends here in LA? Some raised eyebrows, backroom gossip…but general acceptance.

  There would be other consequences, certainly, but those were my main concerns. Was this worth a possible risk to my career, and a loss of a few friends? Was Robyn worth it?

  I thought of how it felt, just be in her presence. How her smile warmed me, how her skin felt, soft under my hands…

  Hell yeah.

  That, and whole lot more.

  I started Twila up and headed for home, smiling.

  ##

  A knock sounded at my door and I walked down the hall to the front door, fastening a dangly, silver earring as I went. The sturdy form of Liz's driver Walter was visible through the glass block window, and I pulled open the door, still fastening the other earring.

  "Good evening, Miss Harris. You look lovely." He smiled slightly and crossed his hands behind his back. He wore a black suit with a black shirt underneath, and a deep purple tie that shimmered in the light.

  I grinned. "Thank you, Walter. Great tie. I'll just be a minute."

  He nodded. "Of course."

  I ducked into the bedroom for a final check of my outfit; dark brown slacks with a flared leg, low heels, and a brown and white geometric print sleeveless blouse that showed plenty of back, and had a neckline that fulfilled Connie's joking request for cleavage. On the way back to the front door I snagged a small brown purse from the hallway table, checked it for keys, cell phone and wallet, and slid the thin strap over my shoulder.

  "All set."

  Walter nodded and stepped back as I closed and locked the door and I followed him to the black limousine idling in the drive.

  Liz was already sipping on a glass of white wine when I slid into the cooled interior of the car and she handed me a tumbler with a few ice cubes and a whole lot of scotch as soon as I sat down. She wore a simple, sky blue cocktail dress that matched her eyes, and her hair was swept back in an artfully mussed coiffure that reminded me vaguely of an exotic bird.

  "Hi." She touched her glass to mine. "Cheers."

  "Hi." I raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Not that I'm complaining - you know I won't turn down good scotch - but are we celebrating something?"

  She picked up something on the seat beside her and handed it to me. "Your first truly scandalous front page, Sugar. I'm so proud. Why didn't you tell me you had a new beau?"

  I looked at the item in my hand. Three grainy but recognizable black and white newspaper pictures detailing the moments just before, during, and after James laid the kiss on me. James' back was to the photographer and it was hard to recognize him unless you knew him by the back of his blond head, but each shot showed my face clearly. The first picture showed me smiling at him, the second, the actual kiss, and the third showed our faces still close together, with my hands on his shoulders as I pushed him away, but looked as though I was pulling him closer. The clippings were neatly trimmed and laminated, along with the headline "Was she really camping?" and the caption, "Caidence Harris finds more than wildlife on her infamous camping trip."

  "Oh, god," I groaned.

  Liz smiled delightedly. "Paula insisted we laminate it. I think it's a nice touch. She sends her congratulations, too."

  I scowled at her and threw the pictures onto the seat in disgust. "How sweet," I said sarcastically. I pointed to the pictures. "That was taken at your house, you know. Maybe you better talk to your neighbors about who they let on the beach."

  Her smile faded, and she grabbed the lamination, studying it carefully. "Well, fuck. I'll have to talk to Melaine about that. I didn't pay close to four million dollars for a house that just anyone can snap pictures of whenever they want."

  Four million? Sheesh. That ended any thoughts I had about buying in that area.

  "So if this is my house…" She looked at the photo again, frowning and then with dawning realization. "Oh, Caid…" She looked at me in disbelief. "James? You're doing James?" She sat back and laughed, shaking her head. "I wouldn't have guessed that one."

  "I am NOT doing James." I snatched the lamination from her hand. "We were out on the deck, watching the sunset, and suddenly he's kissing me. Goddamn little hormonal twerp."

  She laughed harder, and I glared at her. "Liz, it's not funny."

  "Oh, I disagree. It's hilarious. The boy barely spoke, yet somehow he worked up the nerve to kiss you. It's…priceless. Oh, I would have loved to have seen your face." That sent her off into more peals of laughter.

  I frowned and tossed the lamination down, crossing my arms and sipping my drink broodily until Liz calmed herself.

  "Oh…god that was good." She magically pulled out a tissue from some dark recess of the car's interior and dabbed at her eyes.

  "Glad to be of entertainment value to you, Liz," I said with irritation.

  She giggled and patted my leg. "And you're so damn cute when you get all torqued."

  I grunted and sipped my drink while Liz repaired the damage her laughing fit had done to her makeup. After a few minutes, she started giggling again.

  "Liz…" I said warningly.

  "I'm sorry, Caid, it's just so…not like you. To get caught kissing some kid. Although, you know there's a lot to be said about dating younger men. I'm somewhat of an expert at it, myself, so I know what I'm talking about."

  I smiled slightly. "That's what Connie said. Not about you, but about younger men. Said she'd be tickled pink if I brought one home some day, because it's good press."

  "Well, Connie is right." She drained the rest of her wine in one gulp and smiled knowingly. "And there several other benefits that I can mention…"

  I raised a hand. "Spare me the details, oh experienced one. I'll leave the young studs to you."

  "Okay, Sugar." She patted my leg again. "We'll find you someone a little older to play with. You know," she mentioned casually, "Anthony asked about you the other day."

  I gave her a look. "Anthony is a cokehead, Liz. And he can't seem to talk about anything but partying and sports cars."

  "But you slept with him, didn't you?"

  "Jesus…" I wondered how many other people had heard that. Remembering Anthony's big mouth, I was guessing quite a few. "A cokehead with a big damn mouth. Not a mistake I plan on making again."

  She took in my angry posture and nodded slowly. "Okaaay…that's a big N-O on setting you up with Anthony again, I guess. What about Patrick…or Cameron?"

  "Liz, I don't need you to set me up with anyone."

  "Caid, your little tussle with James aside, I bet you haven't even been kissed, much less done anything else, in ages."

  I was swamped
with memories of soft, demanding lips, warm hands on my skin, and the feel of her inside me… I blinked and drew in a slow, steadying breath, unable to stop my smile.

  "You're blushing! And smiling! Caidence Harris, what are you not telling me? Tell me who he is, this instant!" Liz demanded.

  I looked over at her and said mildly, "No."

  That stopped her and she straightened in surprise. "No? Did you just tell me no?"

  "Yes."

  "Wha…" She frowned in confusion, and then her face took on a calculated look. "But that means there's something to tell me, right? You are seeing someone?"

  "Maybe." I smiled at the frustrated noise she made, and finished my drink. "We're here."

  She glared at me. "We are not done with this conversation."

  "Yes, we are," I shot back, stepping out of car as soon as Walter opened the door.

  I glanced around, swearing under my breath when a chunky, balding man leaning against the railing outside the restaurant look over at me in interest and slowly lower his newspaper. When Liz stepped out of the car, he straightened and dropped the newspaper completely, grabbing up the camera around his neck.

  "Shit."

  "Smile, Sugar," Liz said softly, flashing a dazzling smile at the man who was snapping shots frantically. "It's why we're here. And we are so not done talking about this."

  I forced a smile and followed Liz past the photographer and into the restaurant.

  Inside we walked atop a glassed over stream filled with koi, crossed a tiny wooden bridge and past a huge, floor to ceiling aquarium and a gurgling waterfall. The Maitre d' greeted us both effusively by name and seated us almost immediately at a small table in the spacious main dining room, which boasted marble floors, skylights and a grove of what looked like bamboo.

  The curious, excited stares we received as we crossed the room and sat down made me nervous, and once the waiter had left with our drink order - more wine for Liz, and sparkling water for me, since I'd knocked back at least a double in the car in about fifteen minutes - I grumbled that we should have sat upstairs in the private dining room.

  "Caid," she said with an exasperated sigh, "This is why we came here. I certainly didn't do it for the food - you know I don't like seafood."

  "So you're going to spend fifty bucks for a plate of fish that you don't want, just to get some new photo's circulating?"

  "It's not like I can't afford it. If it makes you feel better, I'll buy your dinner, too." She opened her menu and began studying it.

  "Damn straight you're buying my dinner - this was your damn idea." I looked around nervously.

  She lowered her menu and stared at me, frowning. "I take back what I said about you being cute when you're torqued. It's not cute at all. It's downright annoying. If you're going to be like this the whole night, I can have Walter take you home."

  She was right. I was being a big baby. Suck it up, ya big weenie.

  "Sorry," I sighed and gave her an apologetic look. "I'll behave. Can I get the lobster, Mom?"

  "You can get whatever you want, but don't ever, ever call me mom again." She smiled slightly, and I knew I was forgiven.

  I grinned and looked down at the menu, studying the choices. I'd heard wonderful things about the food here, and I hoped it wasn't all hype.

  "Oh, look, Caid," Liz started innocently. Whenever Liz did anything innocently, I knew to be wary. "They've got James Bay shrimp." She smacked her lips. "Young and tasty."

  "Shut up," I muttered, but couldn't stop my lips from curling upwards. Liz's ringing laugh drew more attention to us than we had already getting, but I was starting to get used to it.

  "There's the Caid I know and love," she said softly and winked.

  I tilted my head to the side, watching her read the menu. "You're in awfully good spirits this evening. It can't all be the excitement of me getting my first truly scandalous rag headline. What gives? Or is Bruce just satisfying your needs?"

  She looked up from the menu absently. "Who?"

  "Bruce. Pretty boy from Scotty's party. Big lips, nice butt, vacant stare…"

  "He did have a nice butt, didn't he?" She smiled in fond remembrance, and waved her hand in front of her. "No, he's history."

  "So…who?"

  She looked at me and smiled secretively.

  I closed my menu and laid it across the table. "Why Liz Ann Stokley, I do believe you're keeping secrets from me." I was charmed and intrigued by the thought. Liz normally couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

  The waiter came with our drinks, and when he left, Liz leaned towards me. "You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine," she raised her eyebrows suggestively.

  I pretended to ponder. "Well, I think…no."

  "No?"

  "No."

  She sat back. "You're really not going to tell me, are you?"

  I reached over and patted her hand before opening the menu again. "Nope."

  "I can't believe you're not going to tell me." She pouted and took a sip of wine. "Fine then. I'm not going to tell you either."

  I shrugged, not looking up from the menu. "Okay."

  A bewildered silence followed my statement, and I tried to hide a smile.

  "Caaiiidd…" The petulant tone was right on cue and I burst out laughing. She frowned.

  "God, Liz, you're so easy." I grinned at her and took a swallow of water.

  "Bitch," she huffed good-naturedly, and my smile widened.

  "You know you love me."

  She sighed resignedly. "Yes, for reasons I can't recall at the moment, I do."

  I laughed and leaned back in my chair. "And you say I lack charm."

  She smiled and looked down at the menu again.

  After the waiter took our orders, conversation turned to other topics. The show, my upcoming trip to New York for the talk show circuit, Liz's summer plans, and the good-looking men in the landscaping crew working at her house. Liz could always make me laugh, and we chatted easily over dinner, occasionally interrupted by autograph seekers, but mostly left alone.

  We ordered a dessert to split and I sipped a cognac while Liz decided on some foofy coffee drink with lots of whipped cream.

  "You want that and lime whatchamacallit? You glutton." I leaned back in my chair and crossed one leg over the other.

  "You'll be eating most of the whatchamacallit," she told me, blowing ineffectually on her coffee through a mountain of whipped cream. "I just want a taste."

  "You always say that, and then I look down and poof! The plate is clean."

  She pursed her lips and continued blowing, and I smiled into my cognac. "So. Is it one of those handsome gardeners who has you so happy?"

  She stopped blowing and took a spoon to the whipped cream. "Not until you tell me yours."

  I shrugged. "I can wait. Can you?"

  She put the spoon down slowly, her mouth set in a stubborn line. "Of course I can."

  Oops. I'd just ruined any chance of finding out anytime soon. I should have known better than to challenge her. Like waving a red flag at a bull.

  There was a commotion towards the back of the restaurant and the room seemed suddenly charged. People were muttering and craning their necks to see, and I'll admit to doing the same for a moment before stopping myself. I glanced self-consciously at Liz, but she was busy rubber-necking with the rest of the room.

  "Caid," she said and touched my arm. "Isn't that Josh Riley?"

  My head turned so fast my neck nearly popped, and indeed it was Josh, smiling and making his way through the dining room towards us, looking casually elegant in dark pants, a crisp white shirt and a black jacket.

  He caught my eye and his face broke into a warm smile.

  "My," Liz breathed. "Isn't he pretty."

  And he was. I hadn't seen him since the night of Scott Ziem's party, and I'd forgotten how affecting his mix of incredible good looks and charisma was. I found myself unconsciously smiling back, sincerely glad to see him.

  He reached our table and leaned down to
brush his lips across my cheek. "Caid. It's so nice to see you." He took my hand in his and held it, smiling down at me.

  "Josh." I smiled back, and squeezed his hand. "Nice to see you too." I glanced over at Liz who was looking at me impatiently. "Josh, this is my good friend Liz Stokley."

  He dropped my hand and turned to Liz with a charming smile. "Of course I recognize you, Miss Stokley. It's a pleasure to meet you."

  "Call me Liz, please," she said breathlessly, "and it's an honor to meet you, Josh."