Something Better

by Gail R Delaney

David Bishop seriously injured on set of new film.

  She'd seen most of the early reports, but it seemed that it was still 'news' and more renditions of the events appeared every hour. Despite the voice of conscience in her head telling her to just leave it alone -- since she knew what really happened -- she clicked on the hyperlink and pulled up the story.

  There was a picture of David, something from their archives, dressed in a finely cut dark suit and white shirt open at the collar. He was looking in the direction of, but not directly at, the paparazzi that snapped the specific shot, with a wide and natural smile on his face. Behind him was a black and white wall proclaiming the name of a charity organization.

  Hollywood, California ~ Mixed reports came out of the Hollywood studio today where David Bishop is filming his next project, Rise of Dawn, regarding possible injuries suffered by the actor; everything from the mild to life threatening. A late day news release from studio representatives confirmed that while his injury -- a hard slam to his face that caused severe bruising and swelling but caused no fractures -- was significant, Bishop was never in danger. He will need to be off the set for at least a week. He was taken to the studio medical center and treated on site, and later released to head home for rest.

  While the report of his injury had many fans concerned for his welfare, it would seem that many of his female fans were most upset to hear that Bishop apparently has a new woman in his life. While under the effects of powerful painkillers, Bishop repeated asked for Andi Parker, author of the original book series from which Rise of Dawn is based. Speculations have been made about the couple's involvement, as Andrea Parker is a break from David's 'companion' norm, and a far cry from the starlets and models Bishop usually dates. Andrea Parker was virtually unknown before the massive success of her science fiction series and the subsequent movie deal. Although not a public figure, Parker is known to be a divorcee with a young son and is several years older than Bishop.

  While partying in Hollywood last night, co-star Taylor Reise was asked about the rumors, to which she answered with a laugh "If he and Andrea Parker were trying to keep it a secret, they were doing a miserable job". Another on-set source revealed that the two have been seen being very physical on the set, and Bishop has been seen entering Parker's trailer on more than one occasion.

  One has to wonder just how much loving care and attention Bishop will get while recovering?

  Andi's entire body was hot, and a knot twisted in her stomach. It made them something illicit and secretive, and made her feel ill. She understood with sharp clarity what David meant. There was nothing untrue in the article... yes, he'd asked for her. Yes, he'd probably been less-than-careful about his shows of affection when any eyes could see. Yes, he'd come to her trailer. But the voice of the article made her skin crawl.

  She wanted to close the window and forget about the article, but something held her captive, and she scanned the words again.

  ... a far cry from the starlets and models Bishop usually dates...

  Just when she thought she had the 'Why me?' voice shut down, it would whisper in her ear again. And it sounded strangely like Lawrence.

  She rested her fingers again on the keyboard, ready to go back to work, when of their own accord they typed an entertainment database website url that Maggie had once shown her. She had told Andi that anyone that was anyone -- and a few that were no ones -- could be found on this site. When the page loaded, she typed David Bishop into the search box.

  And swallowed against the guilty feeling that she was spying on him.

  Along the top of the page was his name, along with a row of thumbnail snapshots of him at different events and from different rolls. Sometimes he stood alone, sometimes with women or cast members. Unlike Maggie, who always seemed to know who was with who -- who had left who -- who wanted to be with who -- who had done what film and how many awards they did or didn't receive for it -- who was on their way up -- and on their way down -- Andi had never been a celebrity watcher. She caught the occasional piece of information, but to say she followed anyone or anything, she didn't.

  So, she knew things about 'the celebrity' David Bishop on the basic level only. He'd begun acting when he was eight years old, did his first major film at twelve, and once he hit his late teens, had become one of the fastest rising leading men in Hollywood. He'd done action, he'd done romance, and he'd even done some romantic comedies. But, she couldn't list them all... she had just seen enough to know that when the casting director told her they wanted him to read for the part -- Andi had been all for it.

  Beyond the basic outer shell of his bio, she knew nothing.

  With a slight shake in her hand, she clicked on the biographical information listed on the site. She'd only guessed before at their age difference, but after seeing his birth date, she did the math in her head. Six years and eight months. Did that qualify her as a cougar? He was barely into his thirties and she was closer to forty than she liked to think about.

  The information was generic. It listed his full name as David Daniel Bishop and said he was six-foot-two. He'd been born in Southern California, the first child and only son of a blue-collar family who took him to Hollywood when he was eight because he asked them to, simple as that. His parents divorced when he was ten, and his mother remarried the man she'd hired to be David's manager. There was a long list of every roll he'd ever held, from the first commercial he did at eight for a major department store chain to his 'filming' roll in Rise of Dawn. Every award he'd ever been nominated for, and every one he'd won along the way.

  Then came the more personal information. One by one, the site detailed every relationship he'd been rumored or confirmed to have had since he was sixteen years old. In his teens, he'd had a relationship with a young actress he'd met on set of one of his first 'more adult themed' films. Rachel Leighton. They'd been rumored to be talking marriage, but no one had ever confirmed the stories, and they stopped dating when he was twenty. According to the site, they'd remained very close friends. There were several 'dated' names, many of which Andi recognized.

  The final relationship entry was for Josie Connors, whom he'd been with for over four years and they shared a home on the California coast near Malibu. The entry only said that the relationship ended -- according to the date -- just over a year earlier with no comment from either party. The only other notation was that they'd seen each other at an event some time after the break-up and while they'd appeared civil, there was visible tension between the two former lovers.

  "Stop it, Andrea," she said to herself, shaking her head. "You aren't supposed to have a dirty laundry list on your new lover before you even start dating."

  Her hand stilled over the mouse, and she sat up straighter.

  "Holy crap..." She'd actually thought of David as her lover...

  Andi jumped and squeaked when the voice chat program she'd left active earlier 'rang', telling her another call was coming in. Several people knew they could contact her that way, including her mother and her brother. She closed the celebrity page, revealing the chat program window. 'David calling...' ran like a marquee across the top, and her heart jumped.

  She 'answered' the call and turned on the webcam, but tilted her head when all she saw was a different angle of his bedroom. Ruffled blankets within the span of the camera told her the computer was probably on the bed, and beyond the sliding doors was the lit-up sky of the Hollywood Hills. But no David.

  "Hello?" she called out.

  "Oh, hey!" she heard shouted from somewhere in the distance and beyond the sight of the camera. "Hang on!"

  "Okay."

  The sound of bare feet running on a hard floor grew louder, and the room tilted briefly when he dropped to his knees beside the bed and turned the laptop to face him. His hair was damp and falling over his forehead, his jaw now freshly shaven. And he still wore no shirt... Andi's stomach fluttered and she swallowed.

  "I wasn't sure if you'd answer, or not," he explained, huffing to catch his breath.
"I tried about half an hour ago."

  "I'm sorry. I was with Jake until a bit ago."

  He smiled, wide and genuine. "I just wanted to say good night."

  Pleasant warmth spread through her cheeks, pushing aside the tense anxiety she'd felt when she opened the article and looked him up on the web. "Get some more rest, okay?"

  "I told you, sweetheart. I'm not risking tomorrow night." He winked.

  Acting on a whim, Andi kissed her fingertips and touched her screen where his lips would be. She knew it wouldn't match up to him, but he'd understand the intent. "Good night, David."

  "Good night, darlin'."

  She disconnected the call first this time, and fell back heavily into her chair, huffing a breath. "You're crazy, Andrea. Insane."

  "Damn straight if you're sitting here talking to yourself."

  She spun her chair around to see Maggie standing in the office doorway, her shoulder leaned against the jamb and a wide smile on her face.

  "But you're not crazy for giving him a chance," she said with a nudge of her chin toward the now silent computer. "The boy is smitten."

  That's what I don't get... she started to say, but knew the arguments Maggie would counter with. For being a writer, Andi couldn't find the right words to make her best friend understand. How could she when she didn't understand herself? To be torn between the flattering euphoria that a man -- a man like David Bishop -- wanted to be with her, and the 'huh'-inspiring shock and confusing that demanded to know why a man like David Bishop would want to be with her. This was like a cliché storyline... gorgeous prince falls for ugly duckling. Okay, so she wasn't an ugly duckling... but she wasn't a beautiful princess, either.

  "Stop it," Maggie said sharply, yanking Andi back from the swirling thoughts that had temporarily seized her.

  "What?"

  "Over thinking it. Just... see where it goes. If nothing else, you'll have some great stories to tell when you're seventy and you can tell your grandkids how you had a wild love affair with David Bishop, the movie star."

  Andi sank lower into her chair and groaned. "Sure, and write my tell all autobiography?"

  Maggie shrugged. "Why not? I could sell it in a heartbeat."

  Whether it was Maggie's sharp wit -- or Andi's inability to process the overload of thoughts in her head any longer -- but she burst out in laughter, and laughed until she couldn't breathe.

  Chapter Six

  The morning dragged, almost painfully. David had been up before dawn, having slept so much in the previous thirty-six hours that his body had declared enough was enough. He'd sat on his balcony, drank coffee, and watched the sun come up over the Los Angeles skyline. But, once the sun rose and burned off the slight morning chill, he was ready to move on.

  Five o'clock couldn't come fast enough.

  He ran for nearly an hour on his treadmill, and put another hour in on his resistance trainer. After showering and making something to eat, he growled in his silent kitchen when he looked at the clock. Not even ten.

  "This is pathetic," he mumbled, flopping down on his leather sofa, turning on the flat screen television mounted over his fireplace.

  The KTLA morning traffic reported said something about a pile up on the 101 that had traffic backed up, but only some of the information actually made it into David's head. He was bored. Pure and simple. He wasn't used to just sitting around doing nothing. Even his 'vacations' had been working vacations for the last several years, and hiatus only meant an opportunity to work on some other project.

  Lying around his house felt useless.

  The house phone rang, and he reached behind the sofa to lift one of the handsets off the receiver, slumping further into the cushions as he put it to his ear.

  "Hello."

  "So tell me, sweetie. How much of it is made up? Is your face bashed in, forever destroying your career as Hollywood's Pretty Boy, or do you just have a boo-boo?"

  David smiled at Rachel's gentle teasing, and he turned the television off. "Somewhere in between."

  "So the title remains firmly in your hold?"

  "Whatever..."

  She laughed. "Good to know. What happened?"

  "Oh, stupid accident. Ellen tripped over a cable and elbowed me in the face."

  Rachel sucked in a breath. "Ouch."

  "I think I probably used a few more colorful words."

  She laughed again, and the itching boredom that made his feet bounce and his fingers twitch eased up. They hadn't been a couple for over ten years, but Rachel Leighton still had the ability to make him smile.

  "I'm in Milan, and we just heard about it this evening when we returned from the shoot site. I would have called sooner."

  David looked at his watch. "What is it, one a.m.?"

  The question triggered a yawn on her end. "Yeah, thanks for reminding me. I was conveniently ignoring the clock, and the fact that I have to be up and back outside the city in another seven hours."

  "Milan in August. Must be brutal."

  She groaned. "Awful. Give me dry desert heat any day."

  "When will you be back?"

  "Not for another three months. Why? You miss me?"

  "Of course," he said, smiling. It only hurt a little, just around the eyes. "Call me when you get back. We'll do dinner."

  "Just you and me?" she asked, her voice lifting.

  "Are you bringing someone along?"

  "Maybe, maybe not. I was wondering more about you. Your broken face isn't the only thing being talked about." She didn't give him a chance to deny or confirm anything. "So, your face falls somewhere between a boo-boo and scarred for life. Where do the stories about this writer -- what's her name -- "

  "--Andrea Parker."

  "Andrea. Very pretty name. So, where do the stories about Andrea Parker fall? All hearsay and innuendo? Or, should I be looking for a wedding invitation in the mail?"

  "Somewhere in between," he answered again, not even attempting to disguise the smile in his voice. It wouldn't do any good. Rachel knew him too well.

  "A writer, huh?"

  "She's very good. Have you read her books?"

  "No."

  "You should. Wow. They're amazing."

  "And I bet she's beautiful."

  "Beautiful doesn't even--" He stopped short and chuckled, shaking his head. "Quit giving me a hard time."

  Rachel laughed, but it quickly turned into a yawn. "Okay, I'll quit. But only because I'm exhausted. When I'm fully rested, you're in for more teasing that even you can handle."

  "I can take whatever you dish out."

  There was a small pause on the line before she said in a much softer voice, "For what it's worth, 'somewhere in between' sounds good on you."

  *****

  Andi and Jake pulled into the driveway at 4:32, and she half-expected to see David sitting in his car at the curb. She grabbed the variety of bags from the backseat, and did her best not to bolt into the house and make her son think she wanted to be free of his company.

  She'd actually enjoyed the afternoon with him, even though neither of them liked shopping. It was more about time together and talking over lunch than the actual process of picking out jeans and tee shirts.

  In fact, Jake had even helped her pick out -- by convincing her that she looked beautiful in it -- a nice new dress to wear that evening. She wasn't sure about Jake's opinion of the whole 'date' thing. He'd just nodded, said "Okay" and poked at his pizza when she'd told him over lunch. He hadn't even acted surprised to hear that it was David Bishop she was going out with. She wasn't sure, because Jake sometimes kept his emotions carefully guarded, even from her.

  They got in the house, and she handed off all bags but one to Jake. "Take those and get all the tags off, then toss them in the laundry. I'll wash everything before you wear them."

  "'kay, Mom. Thanks."

  Maggie came in through the sliding door from the back yard and set her empty glass on the counter. She looked at the clock over the stove and made a snarky sound. "Cuttin'
it a bit close."

  "Tell me about it. Help."

  Andi took the back stairs to the second level, with Maggie following behind, and kicked off her shoes before she was halfway across her bedroom. She tossed the bag on the bed and unbuttoned her dress on her way to the bathroom. "Get the tags off that, will you? And find my black shoes?"

  "I'm on it."

  For the second time in three days, Andi took a shower in record time. She'd never been so happy to have short hair. The water hadn't even been on long enough to steam up the mirror, she stood in front of the vanity less than five minutes later, applying her make-up. A dollop of mousse and 90 seconds with the hairdryer, and her short waves were tamed into a reasonable evening style that settled around her face in soft curls. After a quick internal debate, she decided to stick with the glasses and forego the contacts. As rushed as she felt, she was likely to drop one down the sink or put them in the wrong eyes.

  She hurried back to the bedroom wrapped in her towel and looked quickly at the clock beside her bed. Fourteen minutes until five.

  "Crap," she groaned. For the first time, she actually prayed for a little light traffic to hold him up five minutes or so. Just a little.

  Maggie had laid the dress out on the bed and set her shoes on the floor. They were three-inch strappy black heels that that all but screamed broken ankle to Andi, but she'd bought them on a whim a few months earlier. Andi shook her head, bending over to pick one up.

  "No, not these."

  "Those are the only black shoes I saw," Maggie said with a shrug.

  "Don't be ridiculous. I have plenty of black--"

  "Those are it, babe." She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. When Andi tried to move past her to the closet, Maggie sidestepped and blocked her way, tapping the watch on her wrist. "Tick tock." She turned away and headed for the door. "I wouldn't waste any more time trying to find something else." She winked and closed the door behind her. "I wouldn't bet on the boy being late!"