“Hey, Nicole. You up?” Allyson announced her presence.
“No. I’m in bed,” Nicole said.
“You are not.” Allyson flung open the door to reveal Nicole completely dressed, putting her hair in a braid for the night.
“Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Nicole asked, flashing her sister a sardonic smile.
“Not in this family. Marc said to tell you hello, by the way, and before I forget, he kind of wanted a favor.”
“What?” Nicole pinned up the long braid.
“You know that he’s still with that jazz band. They have a tape and he was kind of wondering if you could let Julian listen to it.”
For a brief second, Nicole had the urge to push Allyson out the door and slam it shut; instead she abruptly sat down on the bed, bit her lip and stared blankly at the wall. She slowly made eye contact again. “I can’t do that.”
“Well, I know it’s a little like taking advantage but…” Allyson stopped. “Wait a minute…what’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I just don’t think I’ll be seeing Julian anymore.”
“You two broke up?” Allyson stared at her incredulously.
“We didn’t break up. We were never actually going together to begin with.”
Allyson sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
Nicole sighed. It was hard to try to explain what had happened because she was angrier at herself than at Julian. What had he actually come to tell her anyway? Before her treacherous, wandering fingers had set in motion the whole disastrous chain of events, before she had started the whole thing. Still, she was desperately in need of consolation and wanted to talk to her sister who might understand, even though her better judgment was telling her to keep her mouth shut. She took a deep breath and in a rush, related some of the events that had occurred between them in the park.
After listening, Allyson stood up silently and paced around. “You know, sis, you have a real problem.”
Nicole stared at her. Those were not the words she wanted to hear.
“The problem is you are just like Mom.”
“I am not!” Nicole shot back in defense. She remembered Allyson and herself as teenagers, laughing and talking about how prudish and repressed their mother was—laughing because of her outrageously negative response to public displays of affection, and the fact that she wouldn’t even kiss her own husband in front of her children.
“Yes, you are. Just like her,” Allyson insisted. “No other woman would break up with a man like Julian over that. He’s the best thing that could ever happen to you and you’re too blind to see it. How could you be so angry at him just for being a…a man!”
Nicole glared at her sister indignantly. “You’re right I am blind. I’m also insane because I should have known better than to expect sympathy from you. You’re just totally captivated with Julian, aren’t you? He’s a star. He’s good looking and he’s got lots of money. Is that all it takes, Allyson? Is it?”
“No! That’s not all it takes!” she snapped. “But I wouldn’t look down my nose at all those things either. Even Trey likes him, and Trey doesn’t like everybody.”
“I’ve known him for only two months,” Nicole retorted. “Why can’t you understand that this is hard for me. I still think about Warren.”
“Warren’s dead, gone, buried. You have to go on. And let me tell you something else. I never could stand that man.”
“What?” Nicole stared at her sister in shock. “You never told me that before.”
“I never told you a lot of things before, because you were the one who married him. I would never have been able to stand a man like that. Warren was manipulative and controlling and you did everything he told you to because you couldn’t stand up to him.”
“That isn’t true! You don’t know anything! If it seemed that way, it was because we usually agreed on things.”
“What things?” Allyson retorted. “He told you to take up nursing and you did, even though you always told me you wanted to be a journalist. He told you he would never leave Chicago, even though your dream was to live in California. Are you remembering now? Is your mind starting to come back?”
Nicole flung up her arms in frustration. “Those things I wanted back then were selfish, childish things. When you’re married and have a family you learn to compromise.”
“The only one who compromised was you. Warren never did.”
“Oh stop it! Just stop it right now! You’re just angry at me because you enjoyed the little fantasy of me going with Julian. Maybe you even thought that he might give you a Porsche for your birthday because I’m your sister.” She was going strong now. “Just what would you do if you were me, Ally? No, wait, I already know. You’d flop down on the grass in the park and shout, ‘Oh, Julian, take me! Take me!’ ”
The instant the last few words escaped her mouth, Nicole wished she could take them back, but it was too late. Allyson regarded her in seething silence. Finally she spoke. “So in your high-minded opinion, I’m some kind of whore.”
“No! That isn’t what I meant. I’m sorry if that’s the way it sounded.” Nicole wanted to scream. She had had enough confrontations for one day. She struggled for the right words. “It’s just that I don’t want to hear you talk about Warren in that way. So, he wasn’t perfect. Who is?” She threw herself down on the bed, childishly shielding her face with a pillow.
Allyson approached slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. “Look, you’re right. This whole conversation is plain stupid. What I thought about Warren is beside the point. You were the one who loved him.” She remained silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “Maybe Julian is moving too fast for you. He does kind of have a reputation as a player, but come on, Nic. Can you really blame me for hoping?”
Nicole pushed the pillow away. “No. I can’t completely blame you. On the surface, he’s like every woman’s dream, and he really is great with Trey, but think about this real hard. You admitted yourself that he’s got a reputation as a player. Are players ever serious? What does Julian actually want? He can have just about any woman, and in that regard I’m pretty ordinary. I think that maybe he sees me as some kind of challenge. The minute he conquers that challenge he’ll move on to the next one. Am I wrong for not wanting to be his springboard?”
“No. You’re not wrong for being true to yourself,” Allyson acquiesced.
“Do you still think I’m being like Mom?”
Allyson laughed. “Don’t push me.” She stood up and moved toward the door. “It’s getting late.”
Nicole sat up. “Oh come on, tell the truth. Am I?”
Framed in the doorway, Allyson folded her arms “Do you think I’m a whore because I would sleep with Julian?”
“Allyson!”
Allyson’s eyes twinkled. “Like I said. It’s getting late.”
* * *
Sunday, returning from church services, Nicole watched Trey go racing off to his room to change his clothes. It amused her that she never had to remind him to do that. He hated having to wear a suit. She really didn’t enjoy getting dressed up herself, but it was a small price to pay in exchange for giving a spiritual lift to the day.
She would have to go to work later and just the thought depressed her. Maria would be on duty too, and no doubt she was going to be barraged with Julian questions. She decided that the only way she could get through it would be to imply that she hadn’t heard from him since the trip to Barbados. In a way it was true, because mentally she wanted to erase that ill-fated Saturday.
Nicole carelessly tossed her purse on the couch and some of the contents spilled out. Annoyed, she started to ignore it, but there beside her wallet were two glaringly familiar purple envelopes. She had completely forgotten all about having Julian’s demented fan mail. She crammed the rest of the stuff back into the purse and started to throw the letters out. That was all she needed—more reminders of the man and his insane lifest
yle—but instead of throwing them out she took them into her bedroom and methodically opened them.
There were no obscene sketches this time, only notes with short, clipped, typed statements protesting being ignored, arguing that the fan and Julian were made for each other. Am I crazy? Nicole wondered. Why am I reading this garbage?
As though being driven by some force, she reached deeper into her purse, remembering that she had taken more than just two envelopes. She extracted the black one, ripped it open, and gasped. Two close-up photographs showed Julian getting out of a car, and walking down a street. You can’t hide from me. My eyes are always on you, even when you’re sleeping, the attached note read.
If that was not called stalking, what was? Nicole knew she would have to tell him. On the other hand, Julian had said a while back that he’d been getting that type of mail for a long time. He would probably laugh and accuse her of overreacting. Photographers took pictures of celebrities all the time, with and without their permission. Still, there was something menacing about this. There was no way she could ignore it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A fairly late-season tropical depression had formed in the Atlantic. The storm center in Miami was monitoring it closely because it was threatening to become a full-fledged hurricane. By mid-week it had earned a name, Ivan, and it appeared to be heading for Jamaica. The residents of Miami were hoping it would change course or die out, but there was a chance that it could hit the Florida coast.
The potential threat was only a passing thought to Nicole at this point. The last big hurricane to hit Miami had been Andrew, and that was before either she or Allyson had moved down. Since then, there had been many smaller storms and others that just blew over. She wished the storm called Julian would blow over, because that was the one constantly on her mind.
On Monday, as she was driving him to school, Trey, using a subtle form of sign language, reminded her that Julian was supposed to give him a guitar lesson that evening. Nicole’s heart hammered.
“Well, Trey, I really don’t know if that’s going to happen. Julian’s a very busy man. How about if I get another teacher for you?”
Trey glared at her indignantly and furiously signed no.
“Honey, sometimes things happen and people can’t do the things they said they would.”
But he promised, Trey’s eyes told her.
“I know he promised, but…” She stopped abruptly. There really was not much she could say. The sooner Trey faced the reality about Julian the better. The hero worship could not go on. “Well, when the time comes we’ll just see,” she finished.
Trey seemed satisfied with that. He was absolutely positive that Julian was going to show up. She cringed to think about how disappointed he would be and she was going to have to come up with something to placate him. He had been sleeping with that guitar since it had been given to him.
Back home, Nicole yanked the vacuum cleaner out of the closet and started doing the carpet. There were several other things that needed to be done as well, laundry and food shopping among them. The phone rang. Switching the vacuum off, she picked it up.
“Hello, Nicole,” a familiar voice said.
“Julian?” she questioned, nearly strangling on her own voice.
“I promised Trey that I would be by at around seven-thirty tonight, so if it’s okay with you…”
“Yes…yes. Of course…I mean, I’ll be working, but Allyson won’t mind.”
“Fine. Bye.”
The distinctive click of his putting the receiver down echoed in her ear. Her elation upon learning that he had no intention of disappointing a little boy sank at the perfunctory tone he’d taken with her. “Well, what do you expect?” she chided herself out loud, still cradling the phone’s buzzing receiver. She had wanted to quickly tell him about the ominous fan mail, but he hadn’t given her a chance.
* * *
Two days later, Julian entered his home. He had just gotten back from headlining a music festival in Puerto Rico. After the show, the nights had been wild, and so had his behavior. He’d been drinking pretty heavily, but the odd revelation was that he was actually aware of it. He remembered every drink he’d swallowed, every woman he’d danced with, and the one who’d shared his hotel room. It was as if he had to be deliberately intoxicated in order to enjoy himself, and even then it had not worked. He felt miserable.
The air outside was hot and humid. It was almost as bad inside. Automatically he started to switch on the air conditioning, but then decided against it. At least the heat wasn’t creating any illusions. It was just the dose of reality he needed.
“Nicole, Nicole. What are you doing right now?” he murmured out loud.
Whatever she was doing wasn’t supposed to mean anything to him, but he couldn’t hide the fact that it did. Those few short days in Barbados with her had been like heaven in comparison to his recent escapades. He hadn’t even felt the urge to drink. It would be better to live in a cabin with her than in all the palaces of the world with another woman. So, why couldn’t he just tell her that? Why was it so difficult to relegate his material world to second place and just accept her with the kind of commitment she wanted, no matter what the consequences?
He laughed at himself. How could he commit to a woman who was still in love with her dead husband, even if her love for his so-called memory seemed more like guilt?
He went upstairs to his bedroom and exchanged his clothes for a pair of swimming trunks, then hurried back down to the ground floor. Maybe a few laps in the privacy of the indoor pool would settle his mind. It was too hot to go jogging.
“Hey, handsome,” a voice echoed throughout the cavernous room, resonating into the cool, blue water.
Julian swam to the surface and clutched the smooth, tiled edging of the pool. His eyes connected with a pair of high-heeled pumps attached to a pair of shapely legs belonging to his young, blond publicist.
“Gail,” he exclaimed. “What’s up? Wasn’t expecting you today.”
“Sorry about popping in on you like this, but you’re a hard man to catch,” she explained. “I’ve got some really great gigs lined up for you and I’d like to tell you before I go rushing off to a meeting.”
Great gigs? Julian thought sarcastically. He hated doing interviews and she knew it, but being a professional, he realized it was an integral part of his success in the business.
He climbed languidly out of the pool, dripping water. She handed him a towel, which he blotted at his face, then draped around his neck. “Come on out to the deck,” he said, touching her arm. He left the door to the pool area slightly ajar, assuming he’d finish his laps after she left.
The brilliance of the afternoon sun bore down on them as they sat on deck chairs and discussed various magazine interviews, including one for Rolling Stone. Julian listened to her ramble, until his attention was disrupted by the sound of Amanda shrieking in the garden below. He glanced over the verandah wall. The child was running at breakneck speed, attired inappropriately in some kind of party dress. A few feet away, Elena was trailing her, yelling at her to come back. The sight amused him immensely.
“Julian, this is important,” Gail reminded him.
“Sorry, go on,” he apologized.
A few seconds later, Amanda joined them, racing up on the deck with multi-colored ribbons billowing like streamers from her wild mane of hair, her bare feet slapping the terra cotta floor.
Julian caught her as she tried to dash by. “Whoa, chica! What are you doing?”
“Please, Uncle J, please let go. Mommy wants me to go to Megan’s stupid birthday party and I hate her and all those stupid girls. I don’t want to go. I hate ’em all. She can’t make me!”
“Julian,” Gail exclaimed urgently, irked by the intrusion, “I have to be at a meeting in fifteen minutes.”
Reluctantly, he released Amanda. Let her mother find her. He didn’t see any reason why the child was being forced to attend some party for someone she obviously didn’t li
ke anyway. Knowing Elena, this birthday girl, Megan, was probably the daughter of some socialite who held the symbolic keys to another highbrow club where she was seeking membership.
Gail ended her discussion just in time and was departing as Elena climbed the stairs to the deck. Julian focused indolently on his older half-sister as she breathed rapidly from the workout.
“Looks like someone needs to join an aerobics class,” he said.
She ignored him. “Have you seen Amanda?”
“Yeah. She went streaking by a few minutes ago like a bat outta hell.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into that girl.” She scowled at Julian, attributing her daughter’s unruliness to him.
Julian shrugged and toyed with the towel that was still draped around his neck. Elena peered into the living room, framed by the sliding glass door. “Amanda, if you’re hiding in there you better come out right now!” she shouted.
“She’s probably long gone by now,” he said.
Elena turned to face him with her hands on her hips. “Well, don’t just sit there. Help me find her. You call her.”
“I’m not calling her. She’s your daughter. Try looking in the garden again.” He got up and walked past her, heading toward the pool to resume his interrupted swim.
Halfway there, he noticed Amanda’s muddy footprints on the marble floor. Frowning, he followed them to the poolroom’s entrance where the door he usually kept locked was wide open. An unsettling chill passed through him as he entered.
“Amanda?” He looked behind some of the huge tropical ferns that decorated the room. Maybe she was hiding behind one. His heartbeat quickened. There was no trace of her, and the azure blue expanse of water beckoned. No. It was not possible—Amanda was a good swimmer—he’d taught her himself. In complete denial, afraid to look, Julian moved closer to the pool’s edge and scanned the depths to see his worst nightmare materialize. A bundle of pink and yellow lay at the bottom on the deep end.
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