“The same,” I replied.
“Then absolutely not,” Jeff said and took a step back as he winked at me. “Sex can wait till desert.”
“You mean, we can have desert and sex at the same time?”
“Absolutely, but first serve me that soufflé.”
I laughed. It was good to have Jeff back. In fact, it was pretty darn fantastic!
Chapter 17
Jeff
I woke up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore and thought for a moment that I was dreaming — this was not the sound I normally heard waking up in the Hollywood Hills. Then I looked around me and saw a bundle of red hair on the pillow next to me. The faint scent of Pat’s perfume rose to my nostrils. Vanilla.
I smiled. I wasn’t dreaming. This was just another day in my now normal life. OK, so being back in Maui wasn’t maybe all that normal yet, but I’d just bought a house here. Right on the beach. As we were to shoot Speed Bumps for three to four months each year if things went well, I figured I might as well buy something — I’d AirBnB it when we weren’t there. I knew I could afford not to, but there was a reason I was rich.
Maui was the place where I fell in love with Pat and I wanted something here. A place to return to; our own personal haven.
The past four months had been busy — I’d shot one film (thankfully in L.A.), Pat had shot her indie, I’d worked to finalize the pilot which, in the end Amazon did decide to buy, and there’d been the trial for Bill. Thankfully he’d seemed to catch up with reality and stood up to apologize and was happy to accept his time in prison; seeing it as a way of repenting his sins and thereby having a chance of starting over when released. He was a changed man; a broken man, but maybe for the first time he was also facing up to his own flaws. It was just a shame he’d had to lose his mind to prescription drugs and alcohol before he did so. It was horrible to think how drugs can change a man. I knew it all too well from Jen’s years.
I felt a hand stroking my torso.
“Good morning,” I whispered.
“Good morning,” Pat replied.
“I’d love to stay in bed, but we need to get Shaun to his new tutor,” I said as Pat’s hand continued to explore.
“Oh, yes,” she said and sat up with an alarming speed, red hair flying everywhere.
I laughed. If there was one thing that got Pat out of bed, it was Shaun — she’d taken to the kid enormously and he to her. The idea that she’d still have a chance to be a mother had given her a whole lot of energy — and strength. Whenever she lost faith in her own abilities, she reminded herself that she would never want to raise a child not to have faith in theirs.
When we first got back together, we’d had a long chat where Pat had explained that her requirement for a relationship was that we one day adopted — she’d have to wait till the divorce was final which took time in California, but she wanted a child; a family. I’ agreed that if we stayed together, I’d be happy to do that. And I didn’t doubt we’d stay together, we were both at an age and place where we knew what we wanted. For all the upsets around the time when we met, it’d given us both plenty of wake-up calls as to who we wanted to be and what we wanted out of life. And we both wanted family and movies.
The thought of adopting a child had been Pat’s main motivation at first, but as she saw that Shaun took to her — she’d made it clear from the start that it would be great if he did but he had Monica and she didn’t want to impose — he’d become part of her inspiration.
As Pat got out of bed, I drank in her curves. The woman was a red-headed Aphrodite.
Pat laughed as she saw me looking at her.
“You said it, we gotta go!”
“OK, OK, I’m getting up.”
“So why don’t I see any movement?”
I rose.
“Now you do.”
“I do indeed…” Pat said and this time it was she checking me out; her eyes moving over my body.
“I think we need some alone time tonight,” I said with a wink.
“I think so, too,” Pat agreed and smiled at me, before getting back to getting dressed.
A few minutes later, Shaun knocked on the door, just as we finished dressing.
“Morning, Dad. Morning, Pat,” he said when I asked him to enter. “You’ve got to come see! I just finished a new racing track for my cars!”
I smiled and rustled his hair.
“OK son, we will do that. Is it a good track?”
“It’s the best. I made it so there are two bridges.”
“Looks like you’re becoming quite the engineer,” Pat said with a smile.
“What’s that?” Shaun asked.
“A person who designs things and builds things,” Pat replied.
“Cool. I like that. Oh, and by the way, Monica made pancakes today. Said something about you dating for four months exactly.”
“That’s so nice of her,” Pat said. “Not even I knew that.”
“Me neither,” I said with a laugh. Monica was truly something out of a dream. Just then she popped her head in the door.
“Hurry up or you’ll all be late. I made almond meal pancakes and I’ve got lots of berries and fruits to go with them.”
“First you need to see my track,” Shaun demanded.
“Sure, kiddo,” I replied. “Show us the way to your creation, captain!”
“It’s actually very good,” Monica said. “He’s good with building things.”
“I am,” Shaun agreed. “It’s fun.”
As we all followed Shaun, Pat took my hand.
“Happy four-month anniversary,” she whispered.
“The best four months of my life,” I said. And I meant it. After all we’d both been through with our previous partners, this relationship was a dream that, thankfully, was real. “Tonight, we’ll celebrate,” I added.
“I think that sounds like a plan,” Pat agreed. “I could do with…visiting a waterfall…”
I laughed. I knew exactly what she had in mind.
“Waterfall it is! And now let’s go find that kid and his latest masterpiece.”
“Let’s,” Pat agreed. And with that, we set out together on another beautiful day in our lives.
*****
THE END
***
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CHAPTER ONE
Jacine
I scrunched the hard copy of today’s Variety between my hands as the plane landed at LAX. The jolt of the aircraft hitting the runaway did nothing to relieve my pounding heart. Flying didn’t bother me, but the newspaper’s headline did…
Three Rock Bands Trade Blows in Eatery
Not three rock groups, but key members of three of the hottest rock sensations in the US, Arcane, Clash, and Obsidian, raged at each other. The insane violence spurred customers to run screaming from the trendy restaurant, Angelo’s.
Not an eatery, I thought wryly. The Angelo family will hate that.
A few though, including the ever-present paparazzi, snapped with bacchanalian delight pics and videos that flashed through social media almost as immediately as the event happened.
Welcome to the Information Age.
Tucking the trade rag in my purse, I prepared to flee from this seat with relief. Miserably I had spent the past six hours in it scrunched between two hefty women. In a hurry to get to LA, I took an economy class seat, a mistake I will never repeat. My thoughts swirled in a mess as chaotic as the passengers trying to disembark.
PR Head Suffers Ca
rdiac Event after Three Clients Come to Blows.
That sidebar story was the piece that made my heart race. My father was there sitting in a business meeting with a potential client when the three rockers started the ruckus.
In thirty years of public relations, Franklin Alexander witnessed untold absurdities. Some of his customers practiced little discretion. His no-nonsense wrangling of stories and clients saved many celebrities from ruin. That and a rare reputation for honesty in the land of stars made him one of LA's top spin-masters.
I sympathized with Franklin Alexander, my father, but not Franklin Alexander, the businessman. I warned him that taking on the three musicians at once would cause trouble.
But I was too professional to give him a deserved dose of “I told you so.” My father schooled me in every angle of the business and I worked hard to prove my worth as the head of the New York office of Alexander and Wells. Though he would argue, running the New York office was more difficult than the LA branch. The New York celebrity base sprang from deep roots in music and theater, with a few cultivated from the film industry. That crowd demanded stability, reliability, and solid results for their cash. It was a jittery atmosphere compared to freewheeling LA, where anything was on the table, including a few lines of pearly white coke.
I stepped off the plane in louboutin spiked heels and took the crowded concourse in quick New York long strides that outpaced more leisurely West Coast residents. Anson, the family limo driver answered my phone call immediately.
“I’m here. I’ll meet you at departures.”
“Do you need me to get your bags, Miss Alexander?”
“Not to worry. No time to pack.”
My next call was to my stylist, which went to voice mail.
“Hi, Rose. It’s Jacine Alexander. Just got back into town. Please curate a current West Coast wardrobe for night and day, including underwear as soon as possible. Oh, and I lost ten pounds, so size it accordingly. Since, I’ll be at the hospital with Dad for most of the day, just drop off the collection at the house. Thanks.”
Anson drove to the entrance, and I didn’t wait for him to open the door, but barreled into the vehicle.
“The hospital, please, Anson.”
“Yes, Miss Alexander. But you should let me get the door.”
“New York changes a person. You become more self-reliant.”
“And quicker, too,” he said with a mischievous grin.
I smiled for the first time since starting this trip. Anson wasn’t just an employee. He was family. Anson worked for the Alexander family for as long as I could remember.
His tone dropped. “Is there news about Mr. Alexander? The staff won’t tell me.”
“My father didn't fill out that form?” I sputtered with exasperation. That irascible parent of mine had promised to sign and submit the medical information release before I left for New York. My father worked long hours and was not always accessible. Anson was my pipeline to keep track of my father.
“He may have, Miss. The hospital didn’t have it on file.”
I whipped out my iPhone and typed a message to Tobias Marshall, my father’s lawyer and best friend, and put him on the case.
Me: Hey, it’s Jacine. What’s the update with dad?
Tobias: I’m at the hospital now with your father.
Me: I’ll be there as soon as traffic permits.
Tobias: That was fast.
Me: Not fast enough. How is he?
Tobias: Trussed up with tubes and wires and spitting displeasure. But they want to keep him for a couple more days to do tests to make sure he doesn’t have any more blockages.
Me: Good.
Tobias: He’s worried about the business.
Me: Of course. But I'll handle it while he recovers.
Tobias: He doesn’t like it.
Me: Too damn bad. See you in a few.
“Anson, he’s fine. Cranky as usual. But they are keeping him to run tests.”
“Good. I worry about him, with his schedule.”
My light and breezy tone was a total lie, but it wouldn’t do to worry Anson. He took his duties too seriously. He still called me Miss Alexander and my father Mr. Alexander even though he worked for us for the past thirty years.
Anson turned the radio a light jazz station, and I worked on business emails during the drive. The work of Alexander and Wells Public Relations didn’t stop just because the CEO of the company was in the hospital. I sent a message to the head of our IT department and told him I needed access to my father’s email. I’m sure neither man would like that, but damn it, I’m determined that my father takes time off. He’s a strong man, but Anson is right, my father does work himself into the ground.
As soon as Anson pulled up, I dashed out. He would return to the entrance at my call when it was time to leave. This was so much better than cabs and walking in NYC. But here in LA, everyone drove. No one walked unless it was on the treadmill in the gym.
“Dad,” I said as I entered. I kissed him, and his mouth twisted slightly in distaste. He was onto me and knew I didn't come just to act the dutiful daughter. I gave Tobias a quick kiss on the cheek before I turned back to my father. Tobias’s hand lingered a little too long at my waist, but I shoved away that thought. My father deserved all my attention.
“I will not stay here a minute longer than I need to, daughter.”
“And I don’t want you too.”
“And I will go right back to work.”
“Nope. I’m not wasting a perfectly good plane ride back so you can get yourself into trouble again.”
“It was a mild event. Hardly happened.”
“That’s because you are too damn stubborn to let that shriveled heart of yours boss you around. But you haven’t had a vacation in five years, and I’m putting my foot down.”
“But the business—”
“Why did you raise your only daughter in it? So someone you trust can take care of things for you.”
“Are you accusing me of creating my workforce?”
“One child hardly qualifies as that.”
“It is when it’s you,” said Tobias with a smile.
“Funny, sir. Funny.”
“He has no sense of humor,” snapped my father. “And he’s right. And I won’t let you run over me like you do the New York clients.”
“Moi?”
“Your father calls you the wrecking ball,” said Tobias.
Not liking the sound of that, my hands flew to my hips reflexively. “He did?”
“Once. When you pulled that actor, what the hell was his name?”
“Bash Hunt?”
“Yeah, that asshole. You yanked him by the scruff of the neck from that whorehouse and threw the jerk into rehab.”
“You know how short leading men are.”
“Yes. Yes. You need to sit to look them in the eye and barely a handful,” grumbled the elder Alexander.
“And he was in no condition to make any protests. I got him out via the paramedics.”
“Still. He’s been a purring pussy since then.”
“I’m good at my job. That is no reason to pin invectives on me.”
“Oh, I believe he said it with pride,” added Tobias.
“You know,” growled her father, “with friends like you—”
Tobias shrugged and smiled his charming grin that always made me melt and calmed my father. I couldn’t help but admire his rugged body, salt and pepper hair and silver fox features. Tobias’s face featured a slightly hawk nose and prominent cheekbones. Though I’d known him forever as my father’s best friend, growing up I often imagined having him as my boyfriend. It was wrong of me, but I couldn’t help it. I might have said when I was five-years-old that if I didn’t marry my daddy, I would marry him.
A nurse came in to take my father for tests and told us to come back tomorrow. She stared more at Tobias than me, so he must have put his time in here looking out for my dad.
“Sure thing,” said Tobias. “Come
on, Jacy, I’ll buy you dinner.”
“That’s right. Leave me alone with this foul hospital food.”
“That’s because you're on a heart-healthy diet,” said Tobias trying to hide his mirth. “No flavor for you since you ate the wrong things for too many years even though I warned you.”
“Get out!” my father declared imperiously.
So we did.
CHAPTER TWO
Tobias
I swallowed hard and struggled to keep cool with Jacine. It was hard to resist the urge to put my arm around her waist, to draw her close and breathe in the scent of her musky perfume.
Forty-eight years old, I am old enough to be her father, but damn if she didn’t light a fire in me that another woman couldn't.
I always had a thing for Alexander women. Jacine’s mother was a beauty that took my breath away. Franklin had damn good taste. But Jacy was exceptional. With her mother’s beauty, blonde hair, startling blue eyes, her tall hourglass figure and her father’s smarts, she was the full package.
It wasn’t until that first Christmas back from college that I noticed how much she’d grown. She left for Harvard a gangly teenager, a kid that I regarded with paternal affection and returned a bare four months later with a polish that belied her years.
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