by Mary Blayney
“I can’t help saying exactly what I’m going to do to you,” he replied at the same volume. ”Or what I’d like you to do to me, and I don’t care who hears.”
Ben pulled her onto the small dance floor, grinding against her in a mock waltz, his mouth at her ear. ”I’ve got time for a blow job and you’ve got the lips for it.”
There was scattered applause and a wolf whistle from Jason on the other side of the room, but Molly flushed and pulled back from him. “You’re kidding, right?”
The quartet had been playing a lovely jazz ballad, but broke into a honky tonk version of Here Comes the Bride.
The applause got louder and Ben took a bow and then pulled her out onto the patio and shut the door. “Come on, Molly, be spontaneous. We don’t have to worry about being famous all the time. It’s dark out here in the shadows. Don’t you want to give me a little something to tide me over while I’m a continent away?”
He slid his hand up her thigh, but she stopped him. “As tempting as it sounds, I’m not doing anything with your mother and my mother ten feet away, Ben. And I think you better hit the road. The limo will wait, but the charter might not. It’s going to get more foggy and there are other passengers.”
Ben pulled her further away from the hotel, near the path to the beach. “The plane will wait. The punks from Apple aren’t going to leave Ben Delmonico stranded. They might be techno millionaires, but the pilot knows who the star is. Trust me.” He pulled her to him and kissed her hard.
She wrapped her arms around him, wishing for a different end to the night than this furtive groping, but she gave in to his passion. It was kind of exciting and illicit, outside. It reminded her of when she was a teenager, one night with Cruz…
Ben slid his hand down her neck into her bra and caressed her nipple. “I need you, Molly. I’ve been staring at your ass all night and I’m horny as hell.” He unzipped his pants with his other hand. “Come on baby, before I pass out from wanting you.”
“Look over here Molly! Smile, gorgeous, and you’ll be on Page Six of the Post in the a.m.”
Suddenly Molly was blinded by what seemed like 10,000 watts of lights.
“Hey, Ben, is that a gun in your hand or you just glad to see us?” a man shouted from behind the bushes to the left of the patio. There was a hoot and male laughter as someone held up what looked like a video camera.
“What the fuck!” Ben pushed himself back inside his pants and fumbled to zip himself into respectability. “You assholes are dead. Get the hell out of here or you’re all going to be out of a job tonight!”
Molly backed further into the hedges. She lost her balance as her high heels tottered and slipped on the thick, damp grass. Gracelessly she bumped into a concrete bench at the edge of the patio and one of her five–inch Manolo Blahnik stilettos cracked in half.
She yelped and grabbed for the bench, but caught her heel in the hem of her dress and fell to her knees on the rock–filled path.
“Oh my god,” she moaned. It felt like she’d landed on shattered glass. She gingerly brushed the debris from her knees and tried to stand, but slipped again.
Behind her, the shouts and noise increased as if she’d been suddenly dropped into an Old West movie scene, the one where the bar maid gets caught in the cross–fire when the brawl breaks out.
Someone on the patio yelled for security and walkie–talkie bursts of static added to the bedlam as people from the party poured out onto the deck. Ben’s mother screamed, “Where are you, Benjamin?” Molly heard the sick crunch of a fist hitting flesh as Ben tackled the man with the camera.
“Molly. Holy mother, are you hurt?” Mr. Garcia was suddenly at her side. He pulled her into his arms, coaxing her to come with him.
“I’m okay. Let’s just get out of here.” Fury pumped through her but Molly knew confronting the paparazzi was the last thing she should do.
She pulled off her ruined shoes and threw them in the bushes, and then ducked her head to keep from being a bigger target to the idiots on the other side of the bank of throbbing lights.
“Si, come with me.” Mr. Garcia led her away from the chaos, as two burly hotel security guards behind them kept back anyone who tried to follow.
“Where’s Mother? She’s going to be frantic!” Molly’s hands trembled.
“Jason’s taking her back to the house in his car. I promised her I’d get you home. It’s going to be okay, Molly, just keep moving.”
They passed under lights mounted on the side of the hotel and she saw blood on Mr. Garcia’s white shirt. “Are you hurt?” She reached out and touched his chest. “What happened?”
“No, no, Molly, it’s not me. It’s from you. Your hands are cut.”
Both of her palms oozed blood, and she realized there was more running off the cuts on her knees. Her green satin dress was ripped, a piece of the ruffle drug behind her on the sidewalk. She put her hand to her face and felt dizzy. “I’m going to have Artie sue every one of those bastards. And then have them arrested. I swear to god!”
“Shhhh, it’s okay. Let’s just get you home.”
They rounded the corner and got a view of the hotel’s front entry. The entire paved driveway was a churning, hollering mass of people and cops and news trucks.
“La Madre sagranda,” Mr. Garcia said. “This is worse than when you won the Golden Globe.”
“I was so stupid to let Mother have this dinner here! I knew we shouldn’t use such a public venue. What are we going to do? You can’t go out there and get the car, Mr. Garcia.”
“Hang on you two. I’m taking Molly home,” a deep voice from behind them said.
Mr. Garcia and Molly turned. Cruz stepped out of the shadows. He wore a black shirt and jeans and a look on his face that would have stopped a stampede.
“Mr. Garcia, go back inside the hotel and wait with Jason and Mrs. Wintz.” He handed him a key card. “They’re in room 301. I just told Jason I’d get Molly home by taking her in my truck.” He motioned toward the water. “I’m parked down at the beach. I’ll take the back way home.”
“I don’t think I should leave Molly,” the older man protested.
“I got her.” Cruz looked at Molly and shook his head, then gently took her arm and tucked her against his chest. He looked at her legs. “Nothing’s broken?”
“No.” She leaned against him. “Did you see what happened?”
“Most of it. I was coming up the beach to try and get your attention inside when I saw the hyenas with cameras.” He took her left hand and frowned at the cuts. “We can’t go to the hospital, but we’ll call a doctor to come to the house. You might need stitches.”
“I’ll go to Mrs. Wintz now,” Mr. Garcia added. “I’ll have her call the doctor, okay?” Mr. Garcia patted Molly’s shoulder. “You go with Cruz.”
“Don’t call the doctor. I’ll do it if I need one.” Molly shivered and accepted Mr. Garcia’s jacket. “And please apologize to Iris and Marta. I’m sure they’re in shock over this riot.”
“They know it comes with your job, Molly. They’ll just be happy to hear you’re all right.” Mr. Garcia hurried back the way they’d come.
Molly looked at Cruz and blinked. Her voice sounded to her own ears as if she were underwater. “God, this whole thing is my fault.”
“It is.”
Tears boiled to the surface of her eyes. “Thanks. By the way, were you coming to my engagement party dressed like that?” She pointed to his jeans, knowing it was a stupid question under the circumstances, but his quick agreement that this night’s disaster was her fault was suddenly too much to take.
“No. I wasn’t coming anywhere near this shit–storm. But Shar got a call from a friend of hers who does press for some TV show. He called an hour ago and asked if she was going to the Four Seasons. He knew all about the engagement party and said they had a crew out here with cameras. So we came to see if we could sound the alarm. Obviously we were too late.”
“Why didn’t you call my cell?�
� Molly turned toward the garden. “And where the hell is Ben?” She took a step but Cruz held her tight.
“He’s on the way to the airport. Shar has a hat for him, and some sunglasses. She’s got her car down at the far end of the parking lot because she thought we might need two vehicles to get you guys out of here.”
“Well, isn’t she resourceful?”
“Yeah, she is. And for your information I did try your cell. And my mother’s, and Jason’s. And Mr. Garcia’s. Every damn one of them was set to voicemail.”
Molly squeezed Cruz’s arm. “Oh, god, I forgot. Mom told everyone to turn off their phones or she’d confiscate them. Everyone’s was off except Ben’s. You could have tried his.”
“Sorry, I don’t have Romeo’s number.” His voice could freeze rain.
“Well, crap.” Molly pulled at her hair, feeling like she could scream, but knowing that wouldn’t help anything.
“Come on, let’s get out of here before the pack gets your scent.” Cruz eyed her torn dress and pulled Mr. Garcia’s coat closer around her.
She limped along the narrow path to the parking lot beside Cruz, who was cursing under his breath in Spanish.
She didn’t know a lot of that language, but she recognized that the paparazzi she was going to sue and have arrested better hope Artie got to them before Cruz did. She stumbled and nearly tripped, and cried out when a rock jabbed her heel.
“You’re barefooted? Jesus, why didn’t you say something?” Cruz picked her up in his arms and walked the rest of the way. He was not gentle when he tossed her onto the front seat of his truck.
“Lay your head down on the seat. I don’t want anyone in a passing car seeing you like this and using their phone to take a photo.”
She glanced in the car mirror and wiped at the smeared eye shadow and mascara and blood. She had grass in her hair. She left it there and laid her head on the cracked leather seat and shut her eyes.
Cruz drove out onto Channel Drive, past the hotel’s Spanish towers and fountain. Sirens rang out and cars honked but Molly didn’t look up. Cruz clicked on the radio to drown it all out.
Van Morrison was singing Moondance.
She loved that song, but tonight the lyrics were taunting. What should have been such a special night turned out not to be a marvelous night for anything.
She opened her eyes and stared at the floor of Cruz’s old truck. She was used to living somewhat in a fishbowl, but the intrusion tonight was overwhelming. Tears sprung to her eyes and by the time Cruz pulled into the driveway of her mother’s house, she realized this was only a preview of what life with Ben was going to be like.
#
A half hour later, Molly’s knees were cleaned of the grit and Cruz was dabbing on antibiotic ointment and bandaging her.
“You sure I shouldn’t call the doctor to come out? The cut on your knee might leave a scar.”
“No. I’m fine.”
He held her arm as she limped into her bathroom and sat in the small wicker chair by the tub.
“I smell like the gardener,” she said with a sniff.
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t try and take a shower tonight. Just wash your face and crawl into bed.” Cruz laid his cell on the counter. “But first call your agent or someone and have them send four or five security guards out here now. And let Ben know you’re okay.”
She stared at his phone. “I don’t know Ben’s number. It’s programmed in my cell. Which is at the hotel.”
“Call Shar’s number.” He pointed. ”It’s in there. She’s probably still at the airport with him. I’ll make you some tea and then wait outside for Jason and Mr. Garcia. I’ll lock the front door and the back gate, and let the dogs out. Don’t answer if anyone knocks.”
His brown eyes burned and Molly realized while she was starting to feel calmer, Cruz was looking more upset with every second that passed.
She put her bruised hand on his arm. “Thank you for coming to help tonight. I really suck at handling stealth media attacks. Remember that time they showed up in Carmel? We thought we were alone at the cabin and then you saw the satellite truck parked behind the outhouse.”
“I’m not interested in strolling down memory lane tonight.” Cruz jerked away from her. “What the hell were you thinking, Molly? And what were you two doing, going outside the hotel like that? One of those jokers was laughing that he had pictures of your breasts hanging out of your dress. Your movie–star boyfriend couldn’t get a room?” His hot glance swept over her as his voice rose.
“Those idiots ambushed us. We went outside to say a private goodbye. We didn’t know they were hiding in the garden. It wasn’t our fault.”
“Yes it was, Molly. You’ve been in the public eye for ten years and Ben’s been around longer. You both know damn well the press follows people like you around, waiting for you to do something awkward or embarrassing. Jesus Christ, how could Ben put you in such a compromising situation?”
“He didn’t put me in anything. I went outside willingly with him.”
“Were you drunk? I know he lives for headlines, but you should know better. And what kind of man pimps out the woman he supposedly loves?”
“Oh, so now you’re saying you don’t think he loves me?”
They stared at each other.
“I don’t think about him at all,” Cruz said. Which was a lie, and they both knew it.
Cruz’s voice got louder. “You acted like a brat who thinks only of herself tonight. And Delmonico acted like a spoiled boy. You both need to grow up!” Cruz made the word boy sound like a felony.
“Okay! Okay.” Molly held up her hand, hoping it would stop him from saying anything else. She’d been offended by Ben’s earlier behavior, too, but she wasn’t going to go there with Cruz. “Can you just calm down, please? We’ll be more careful next week at Cabo. I’ll move the wedding inside the hotel instead of having it out on the beach.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “That’s wise. Wiser still would be to have it here tomorrow if you’re in such a hurry to marry that guy. Get the justice of the peace. Other than a helicopter buzzing the place, the whole thing could be over with before the media gets a chance to retrench.”
“You want me to get married here? Tomorrow?”
“I’ll give you away myself.”
She flinched. “Ben’s going to London for a few days to open his film. I’m sticking with Mexico on the 14th.” She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “Are you going to come?”
“To Cabo?”
“To my wedding.”
He stared up at the ceiling. “No.”
“Why not?”
Emotion twisted his lips into a caricature of a smile. “I don’t have time for this tonight. But I have my reasons.”
“Cruz, we’re friends. Friends go to each other’s weddings. We both agreed we’d stay close, even though we’re, we’re not a couple anymore. Remember?”
That commitment was made when they’d sat across her mother’s kitchen table from one another, three years ago. It had seemed reasonable then to Molly, and doable. Right now she wondered why she ever thought it would work to stay friends with a man she’d once loved so desperately. Especially as there was too much said, and unsaid, still between them.
“I remember that night.” Cruz stepped away from her.
“Well, then why won’t you come? For the record, you haven’t been much of a friend this past couple of weeks. In fact, you’ve been a shit about everything ever since I told you I was getting married.”
Cruz narrowed his eyes. “No matter what we said or didn’t say in the past, we’re not ‘just friends’. And you damn well know that.”
Molly hung her head and started to sob. Her mouth filled with tears and her hands shook. “We need to talk about this. You need to tell me what’s going on with you. And what you think about my getting married. Just talk to me, and be honest, Cruz. Don’t lecture me.”
He put his hands on both her arms. “Stop it. We’re not goin
g to go through this mess tonight and make you feel even worse. Go get into bed and I’ll bring you some aspirin.”
“What mess? You really don’t think I should marry him, do you? Just say it.”
“I have nothing to do with the choice you make for a husband.”
“He’s a good man, Cruz! And he’s helping me so much with my career. Ben made it possible for me to get a part in a movie I’ve begged to be considered for the last two years. Why can’t you be happy for me?”
He dropped his hands. “Can you hear yourself? Is your career why you’re marrying him? As a payoff to him for getting you a role?”
“That’s not what I said, and you know it.”
“That is exactly what you said, Molly. You just admitted to me what you wouldn’t three years ago.”
She sucked in her breath. The conversation they’d had when they’d ended their romantic relationship was burned into her memory, and her heart. “I was completely truthful to you that night. I told you that even though I loved you with my whole heart, I wouldn’t give up my career, and that I thought it was unfair of you to ask me to do that. What are you talking about now? What didn’t I admit to you?”
“That your career is your number one priority in life.”
“That’s not true. Why are you trying to upset me more?” She slapped at his arm. “Ben supports my career, but that isn’t why I’m marrying him!”
“Isn’t it? I just heard you say you chose a husband because he got you a part in a movie.” Cruz turned away and walked toward the door. “I hope your two careers will be very happy together.”
“You’re twisting my words and you know it.” She tried to stand but slipped and banged her elbow against the tub and cried out.
Cruz turned and pulled her against him roughly. “I’m not twisting anything. At least admit the truth to yourself, before you make yourself as crazy as you make me.”
Looking into his eyes, Molly realized that all the misery she was feeling wasn’t just about the ruined party, or her banged up body, or her fiancé who had run off to catch a plane instead of making sure she’d survived the humiliating ambush.