Behind the Scenes

by Trish Jensen

  “Let’s see, there was . . . only one.”

  “No way.”

  “Swear it.”

  “Mind if I don’t like her? Who is she?”

  “She was, once upon a time, my wife.”

  Tanya went still. “You were married?” she whispered.

  “Afraid so.”

  “Oh.”

  “It was a mistake. A big one.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we were already married before I figured out that the woman I thought I loved really was a figment of my imagination. She didn’t exist.”

  “I always thought you were a pretty good judge of character.”

  “I usually am. But I was a lot younger then. And stupid. I wanted to believe she filled the hole. Made me feel, I don’t know, complete.”

  “What did you think you were missing?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure. Whatever it was, she was not the right person for the job.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. I wasn’t even sorry when she left me. Even then I already realized that it was up to me to come to any relationship already whole. Asking someone else to fix me wasn’t fair to anyone, much less a woman who had no intention of dealing with damaged goods.”

  “Is she an idiot?”

  “On the contrary. She’s very, very smart.”

  “I guess so, if she fooled you. Still, I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, if she’d been half the person I thought she was, I might still be trying to make it work. And I wouldn’t be on this couch with you. I’m having a hard time feeling sorry for myself right now. Though, I could work on it if it gets me pity sex.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You really wouldn’t like pity sex with me.”

  “That’s hard to believe. How come?”

  “Because I do my nails during it.”

  “Scratch pity sex . . . even if you do pity me some day.”

  “Check.”

  “How do you stand on ‘I’m crazy about you’ sex?”

  “I’m pro ‘crazy about you’ sex.”

  “I’m crazy about you.”

  “You sweet-talker, you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “THAT’S THE THIRD bouquet this week,” AJ said as he watched one of the studio messengers hand Tanya flowers.

  “Face it, she’s got fans,” Denny said. “This is a good thing.”

  “I know.”

  It just didn’t feel good. The show was a hit. Ratings had steadily climbed week after week so that, only four weeks into it, they were the third highest rated show in their time slot, including network broadcasts. Tanya had received one thousand pieces of fan mail last week alone, and the sponsors had pounced. JBC had ordered ten new episodes for the summer season, and had already renewed them for the fall, looking at moving Pretty Women to a much more prime slot.

  JBC was elated. Frank was elated. The crew was elated. Hell, even Gran was “tickled pink”.

  AJ was ambivalent.

  Tanya couldn’t care less.

  Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She was happy people liked the show and thrilled that the mail she got from women said she had changed their lives, some in incredibly profound ways. But the popularity of the show just meant she had to stick around L.A. longer, a thought that tended to put her in a bad mood.

  Actually, AJ had been surprised when she’d agreed to extend her contract. He’d expected her to consider her obligation met, be happy about laying firm groundwork for her successor and wave goodbye as fast as she possibly could.

  So he should have been thrilled that she’d decided to hang around a while longer. Especially if the reason was to be close to him. Unfortunately, he was fairly certain that hadn’t even figured into her equation, given her previous statements.

  And this notion was what made her explanation one night at dinner, and her recent actions, unsettling, to say the least.

  He’d been certain she’d be like any other neophyte to show business: wide-eyed at first, then sucked into its charms and perks. But after knowing her for a while he’d started to truly believe nothing and no one could turn Tanya into another Heather. They were night and day.

  So when she’d explained to him that she’d realized the power of her position, he’d almost fallen out of his seat. He would have been completely heartsick except for her explanation that she could use it to do some good. He’d latched onto that reasoning with all the hope he had inside him.

  The next day, Tanya had come up beside him quickly.

  “Hey, big boy, how come so glum?”

  “I’ve hardly seen you outside work in a week. I’m in a bad mood.”

  Her smile faded. “I know. I’m sorry. There’s just this thing I’m working on, and it’s taking a lot more of my time than I thought it would.”

  “Why won’t you tell me what it is?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Have I ever mentioned I despise surprises?”

  “Well, a week ago you weren’t crazy about them, this weekend you found them annoying, last night you hated them. Surprises keep graduating for you.”

  “How would you like it if I had a surprise for you? Like a party or something?”

  “Well, they’re not my thing, but I’d think it was sweet.”

  What had happened to the woman who fainted at the words, ‘surprise party’? He had desperately wanted her back just then. But he realized how selfish that was. Wanting her to be terrified of an event was not exactly a character trait he’d be proud to call his own. “Well, surprises aren’t my thing.”

  “You’ll like this one, I promise.”

  “Nothing that takes that much time away from being with you is appealing.”

  “You’ll thank me!”

  “I doubt it.”

  “You might even worship at my feet.”

  “I do that anyway.”

  “Ha! That’ll be the day. But it’s really nice of you to say so.”

  Just then Delilah, their guest booker, ran up to them. “Oh, Tanya, I’m so glad I found you. I need to confirm the celebrity guest before one more agent comes knocking on my door.”

  “Celebrity guest?” This was news to him. “Since when?”

  “Since you’ve been busy working on your new show and Gerald okayed it,” Tanya said, turning back to Delilah. “We’re definitely going with Jennifer Halliday.”

  “Jennifer Halliday. Yeah, she needs a makeover.”

  Tanya smiled at him. “I know, what a waste, huh? But she’s big.”

  “So what?”

  “Would you quit asking so many questions?” she said. “I know what I’m doing.”

  AJ waited until Delilah was out of earshot. “Last I checked, I still show up in the credits as producer of this program, Tanya.”

  “Who is phasing himself out and handing the reins to Gerald. And Gerald approved this move.”

  He was going to have a long, long talk with Gerald. “Fine.”

  “Now stop being a producer for a second. Do I get to see you tonight?”

  “Are you free?”

  “Not if you’re going to be a jerk.”

  “Sorry. Right now I’m feeling like a jerk. Maybe some time next week, okay? If you can fit it in.”

  “Wait a minute!” she said, but he stalked away anyway.

  He left the studio and headed directly to his office. Mrs. Peterson tried to waylay him, but then she took one look at his face and stopped in her tracks. “I’ll take care of it,” she said. “Hold your calls?”

  “Just for a couple of minutes.”

  “Okay, buzz me when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you.”

  He had walked in and gone str
aight to his desk. Pushing aside the stack of scripts in front of him, he’d dropped his elbows on the surface and put his head in his hands.

  It was getting harder and harder to keep believing when things were changing so quickly and he didn’t know how to stop them. Or even if he had the power to stop them. Or the right.

  He was messed up. He didn’t know how to stop that, either. Tanya had predicted that their relationship wouldn’t last, and he was now beginning to worry that she’d been right.

  Watching his marriage fall apart had been bad enough, and he hadn’t even loved Heather any longer, if he ever had. But it had still been painful to realize that the woman he’d wanted to be in love with didn’t exist, that he’d been fooled that badly.

  If it happened with Tanya, it would be pain on a completely different level. It would shatter his heart as he never thought anything or anyone had the power to shatter him.

  Yes, indeed, he was a mess.

  Still, he knew he was acting like an ass. Tanya didn’t deserve it. He had no right to tell her how to handle her life. He had no right to tell her she wasn’t allowed to change.

  And if he kept this up, he was going to lose all right to tell her how he felt about her.

  Damn.

  TANYA SAT IN her dressing room, waiting for some dumb idiot from some dumb magazine to come and interview her. And after that the dumb idiot’s photographer was going to want some dumb pictures, of course.

  She hated this.

  She glanced up into the mirror and frowned at her reflection. Pointing at it, she said, “I’m still not you and I still don’t like you.”

  If anything, Hollywood was worse than even she could have imagined. By her count, there were seven thousand six hundred and twenty-three reasons to jump ship and hop on the next flight home.

  She missed Sharyn. She missed dodging Mrs. Ledbetter’s Cadillac and she missed being threatened with jail time by Mrs. Teasdale.

  There were only two good things to come out of this experience: Her new self-confidence, and AJ.

  She was pretty sure she’d be able to keep the self-confidence. She sure couldn’t say the same for AJ.

  Something awful was bothering him, but so far he’d been irritatingly mute on what that something was. Of course, she hadn’t given him much chance to tell her, either. She’d been so busy with his surprise that they hadn’t seen nearly enough of each other.

  Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he was jealous of her time. She knew for a fact that he’d been turning down invitations to industry functions all over town because she didn’t want to go to them; he’d rather do something dumb with her than rub elbows with the glittery people.

  Maybe he was beginning to resent that he’d given up his other life for her, but now it seemed she’d found an interest she wouldn’t share with him.

  Heaven forbid he trust her enough to know there had to be a good explanation for what she was doing. Not just because she told him so, which, when she thought about it, should be enough. He was a man and he wanted his woman when and where he felt like it. His terms.

  Just where was that trust, anyway? Who was the one who never failed to tell the other she loved him? You’d think he was allergic to the words.

  Damn ex-wife.

  Next time they were together she was going to point out a few things. Such as that everything he did for her, everything he said to her, every way he made love to her were dead giveaways that he was a goner. He loved her too. He might as well just learn to spit it out because she was getting damn tired of having to do the math for them both.

  She didn’t give a damn how mad he was. She was going over to his place tonight and duking it out. If he wasn’t home she’d just park on his front porch until he did get home. And if he happened to show up with another woman, she’d calmly and maturely kill her, kill him, then do the good-girl thing and turn herself in. She was lucky. She could get away with wearing stripes.

  She looked in the mirror again. “See what this town does to people? You’re losing it.”

  Okay, she knew she needed to stop analyzing this to death until she heard it straight from him, because she was working up a pretty good huff all on her own.

  There was a knock on her door. She checked her watch. The reporter wasn’t due for another fifteen minutes. It had to be . . .

  “If you’ve come to apologize I want you crossing that threshold on your knees!” she yelled through the door.

  The door cracked open and she saw the partial face of a woman. “Pardon me?”

  Tanya jumped up. “I’m sorry!” She went to the door and opened it all the way. “I thought you were someone else. Hi, I’m Tanya. You must be Eloise from . . . your magazine?”

  The woman, who happened to be an exceptionally beautiful blonde, looked startled and vaguely insulted. “No, I’m not Eloise. And if you mean the reporter, she’s from TV Times.”

  “Right, TV Times. I have a hard time keeping them straight.”

  The woman gave her such a haughty look of disbelief, it was obvious she thought Tanya meant to imply that reporters were banging down her door.

  “I mean, I don’t follow those too closely so I get them confused.” Tanya stared at the woman. “You look really familiar. Do I . . . ? Oh, wait a minute! You’re . . .” she snapped her fingers “ . . . wait, I’ll get it. Heather . . . um . . .”

  “Dunville.”

  “Right.” Wrong. That last name didn’t even tinkle a bell. She knew this had to be the same TV star Heather. “From . . . Fancy’s Dare?”

  The woman laughed. She thought. It sounded sort of fake.

  “Yes, well, Fancy’s Dare from my old television days. I do features exclusively now, of course.”

  “Of course.” What the hell was she talking about? “What can I do for you, Ms . . .”

  “Mrs. Dunville. Mrs. Wesley Dunville.” The name probably invoked some awe in the Hollywood crowd, but it meant nothing to Tanya. And wait, she thought. Did this woman just direct me to call her Mrs.?

  Excuse me? The woman was maybe two years older than Tanya. Who the hell did she think she was? Oh, that’s right. She was Mrs. Wesley Dunville who did features.

  God, she hated Hollywood.

  “Yes, well, Mrs. Dunville, whatever I can do for you will have to be a quickie because my pal Eloise and I are hookin’ on up here any minute now.”

  Okay, beauty only took Wesley’s wife so far, and that didn’t include sucking lemons. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?” she said. This, of course, in a tone that had a pity coating all over it.

  Oh, if only Sharyn were here. She’d make mincemeat of the woman in two seconds flat. Unfortunately, Tanya wasn’t as good at that. “No, I do. I recognize you. I’m pretty sure I enjoyed that show.”

  Of course, she’d never seen it except in passing, until she’d learned that AJ had produced it. Then she’d gone out and bought the DVD of the first-year episodes. It really hadn’t been bad. But when she’d discovered that AJ was only credited with producing the first couple of episodes, she’d lost interest after that.

  “We had top ratings for nearly three years. Then I left to pursue—”

  “Let me guess. Features.”

  “Um, yes.”

  “Ah. I’m sure it was a brilliant business decision. Now what can I do for you?”

  “I want to be your celebrity makeover. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  About as fun as burning a finger. “I’m sorry, but we already booked the celebrity. But thanks for your interest.”

  The woman’s fun smile collapsed. “Who is it?”

  “Trade secret.” Tanya didn’t know if it was or not, but she liked using that phrase.

  “Oh, no!” The woman’s haughty look collapsed, and suddenly she didn’t appear sophisticated at all. “I was
really hoping to do it.”

  “I’m sorry.” Strangely enough, she really was. “But I don’t understand why you’d want to do it anyway. You look like you have a pretty good stylist. I’d change the color a little and feather a little more up top, but all in all not bad.”

  “This is my color.”

  Not unless they named the bottle after her. “Well, whatever, we already have our celebrity.”

  “What is she paying you? I’ll double it.”

  Whoa! That was a lot of money. And for a really good cause. “If you promise to keep that offer on the table, I’ll see what I can do about adding one more segment. How about that?”

  “I’m sorry, no. I have to be the first.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  Tanya was puzzled. This woman went from snooty to a baby and back to snooty with a dash of desperation in the blink of an eye. She must be pretty good at what she did. Whatever that might be.

  Tanya shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t back out on a promise.” An idea occurred to her. “Wait! I know. For that kind of money I’ll style you after hours.”

  Appalled appeared quickly. “Obviously that isn’t acceptable. I wouldn’t be doing this at all but for the film. I don’t really need a makeover, you understand.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I have a movie coming out in two months. Promotion, you know? Promotion?”

  “Oh . . . promotion. Well, I’m sorry I can’t help you there.”

  The woman sighed. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this, but I’ll just have to go over your head.”

  “I doubt you’ll get anywhere, but more power to you if you can.”

  “Oh, I can. I am . . . or, I suppose I should say, was very close to your producer.”

  It couldn’t be Gerald. He’d been very close to James for over twenty years. “AJ?” Tanya said, sounding dumb as dirt even to her own ears.

  “Yes. It has been a couple of years, but I’m afraid he’s still mad about me. I think he’ll do it.”

  “Like I said, you can try,” Tanya said through gritted teeth. And if she succeeded, AJ would be neutered before he knew it.