Jane had left for college when Coco was six, and instead of becoming the favored only child after that, Coco had remained an outcast, brought up and entertained by nannies, while her mother worked. Florence had been far more interested in writing her books than in spending time with her younger child. It was Jane she would always drop her work for, whom she spent time with, went on trips with, who was more interesting as an adult. Somehow, whatever the time or the season, Coco always felt as though she never made the grade. And now, for once, it was the always perfect, irreproachable, knowledgeable about everything, arbiter of right or wrong, famous Florence Flowers, who felt as though she was in disgrace. It was an unfamiliar feeling for her. And she was leaning on her far gentler daughter for comfort.
“How did you meet Gabriel, Mom?” Coco asked her in one of their lengthy conversations about him. As long as he seemed to be firmly entrenched in her mother's life, she wanted to know everything there was to know. Florence mistook it for approval, and was grateful to her. She had been very hurt by the things Jane had said. And even if she had apologized later, you can't unring a bell. She had accused her of being senile, having Alzheimer's, being a foolish old woman who was being taken advantage of by a man who wanted nothing more than to exploit her money and fame. Coco realized that could still be true, but she had been more cautious about what she said. Although her relationship with her mother was difficult, she was basically a profoundly kind person and didn't want to hurt her.
“I sold one of my books to Columbia for a movie last year, and Gabriel was assigned to produce and direct. We worked closely together on the script, although I don't think it will be shooting till next year. We had a lot of fun collaborating. He's a very interesting, sensitive man.” She sounded suddenly shy then, which startled her daughter. It was an unfamiliar tone for her. “And he says the same thing about me. He was involved with an older woman in college, though not this old,” she admitted. “He had a thirty-year-old girlfriend when he was eighteen.” He clearly had a thing for women who were older than he was.
“I look forward to meeting him,” Coco said quietly. It was true, for a number of reasons. Although she didn't say it, she was still extremely suspicious of him. It didn't seem right or normal for him to be with a woman twenty-four years older than he was, although admittedly her mother didn't look her age, and he didn't know the full truth about Florence's age. But he still thought there were seventeen years between them, which was a lot. She wondered if her mother had had something like this in mind when she had the second face-lift right after Coco's father died. Probably not, but it did occur to her now. And she had had a tummy tuck and liposuction then too. Florence had always been very vain. It was all part of what Coco had rebelled against, as part of the Hollywood life she knew. Jane was vain too, though not as much so as their mother, and Coco knew that she had been getting Botox shots for the past several years. Coco couldn't even remotely imagine doing any of it. That kind of vanity and self-absorption was totally foreign to her.
“He wants to meet you too,” Florence said in response to what her daughter had said. Just hearing her say it was a relief. She had been terrified that they might both stop seeing her. Jane had thought about it, but had been considerably calmed down by Liz.
“So what do you think of the baby?” Coco asked her idly. She couldn't imagine that becoming a grandmother was what her mother had in mind these days. It would surely be awkward for her.
“I think it's nice for them. I always thought you'd be the one to have children. It never occurred to me that they'd do something like this. It's a little strange not knowing who the father is.” But what her mother was doing was a little strange too.
“Jane says she didn't want the complications of doing it with a friend. This way the baby only belongs to her and Liz. I can see her point. It would probably feel weird having the baby of someone she knows. It still seems a long way off.” It was six months away. “I suppose we'll all be used to the idea by the time it arrives.”
“I'm not sure I will,” Florence said honestly. “I have other things on my mind right now. And I'm starting a new book.” The shock and humility had already begun to fade from her voice. She rarely if ever lost sight of who she was, although Jane's fury at her had taken her down a notch or two, at least for a few days. She almost felt as though becoming a grandmother now, with a younger man in her life, was Jane's ultimate revenge on her. There was no question in the minds of anyone who knew her that for the most part Florence Flowers was all about herself. And the only person she occasionally let into her private world was Jane. She was sad to realize that with a baby now, that would change. Jane's allegiance would lean more toward her own child and Liz. And suddenly Florence felt left out. It brought her even closer to Gabriel than before.
She talked about her daughters with him that night. He knew she had told them about him, and he was nervous about it. He couldn't imagine their approving of him, and he was right.
“Are they both still upset?” he asked nervously, when they had dinner on the terrace of the Ivy that night. Florence was wearing white jeans, high-heeled gold sandals, and a turquoise silk shirt. She looked better than ever, and it was hard to believe she had been unnerved by them at all as she looked adoringly at him.
“They'll get over it. They already have,” she reassured him. “Coco was startled by it, but she's a very sweet girl. She said she just wants me to be happy, and she's looking forward to meeting you the next time she comes down. She can't come at the moment. She's house-sitting for her sister right now.” She didn't say a word about the baby, and didn't intend to until she had no other choice. She didn't want him to start thinking of her as a grandmother. The age difference between them was bad enough, without adding that. It hadn't seemed that monumental to her for the last year, but it clearly was to Jane. “My older daughter is harder,” she said to him, as he ordered champagne for both of them. They had something to celebrate now—they could come out of hiding and stop worrying about her daughters finding out. Florence had been worried about the press too. She was a major celebrity, and their romance was a juicy story that would eventually wind up in the tabloids and fan magazines. They had been lucky and careful so far.
“Was Jane very angry at you?” Gabriel asked, looking worried, as he toasted her with the champagne. He was wearing a T-shirt and white jeans, with brown alligator loafers and no socks. The shoes had been a gift from Florence months before. She liked seeing them on him. He wore them a lot when he was with her. She had bought him black ones too.
“She was at first,” Florence said honestly about her oldest daughter. “I don't think it ever occurred to her that something like this could happen. I think it shook them up because of their dad. You're the first man in my life since he died.” That wasn't entirely true, but she thought it would sound better to him. She had had two brief affairs in the year after Buzz died, which she had never mentioned to her girls. They had been very dull men, and she hadn't been in love with either of them. But she was madly in love with Gabriel Weiss, and had fallen head over heels for him the day they met. He claimed to have felt the same for her. And their romance had been quick and hot, and still was. “I think it's an adjustment for them. Jane has a very sweet, very intelligent partner. When I last saw her, she promised to try and make it right with Jane for me. And I think she did. Liz wasn't shocked about us at all.” He smiled at her, looking sympathetic about her daughter. From everything he knew of her himself and had heard in the business, Jane Barrington was hell on wheels.
“My age must have come as something of a shock,” he said simply. “I never think about it when I'm with you.” He smiled at her, and kissed her neck, well aware of her cleavage in the silk shirt, which was hard to ignore. He loved the way she dressed, and how sexy and elegant she was at the same time. She was the most seductive woman he had ever known. “I always feel like we're the same age.” He said all the right things, and Florence believed them. Maybe it was crazy, but she was sure he
was sincere. And Liz was right. If she were a man, no one would care, in fact they'd approve and envy her.
“Jane will be fine,” she reassured him again. “She has other things on her mind right now. She's up to her ears in headaches and union problems on location with a film. Our little romance is going to be the last thing on her mind.” Not to mention the baby, which he knew nothing about, and hopefully wouldn't for a long time. They might even be married by then. Gabriel had been talking about it all summer, and Florence loved the idea. The only stumbling block they'd had to overcome was the girls. And she wasn't about to upset them even further by talking marriage. She wanted them to get to know him, and hoped they would calm down.
For the rest of dinner they talked about the movie he was working on. She had been going over scripts with him for months, and had given him excellent advice. They worked well as a team. In fact, they were a great match at everything they did. She noticed a few people glance at her enviously as they finished dinner. Other women looked at her, stared at Gabriel, then back at her with open admiration, or so she thought. No one had ever referred to him as her son. And he looked slightly older than he was. The difference between them looked more like ten years than twenty-four. And a woman with a man ten years younger was fairly common these days. Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher had forged the way for couples such as theirs. She was to be envied, or so she thought, not criticized or shunned.
They went back to her place afterward, as they usually did. He stayed with her most nights now, and had for the past several months. And once in a while, when they wanted to do something special, they spent the weekend at the Bel-Air Hotel. When they stayed there, Gabriel always paid. He never let Florence pay for anything for him, except random gifts. He had given her a diamond bracelet for their six-month anniversary, and he was hoping to give her an engagement ring sometime in the next year, but she didn't know about that yet. He had already picked one out. He was hoping her daughters would have met and approved of him by then. He didn't want to tear their family apart, but he was madly in love with their mother, for better or worse. He thought she was terrific.
Gabriel stretched out on her bed as though he owned it, and by now, he did, just as he owned her. Discovering sex with him had been an experience like no other in her life. It had never been this good in her thirty-six years with Buzz, even when they were young. Gabriel was an incredible lover. He had recently told his own mother about their affair, and she had been just as upset as Jane. But she was also beginning to understand that there was nothing she could do about it. Gabriel said he was in love with her and had made up his mind. And she knew her son well. She knew that nothing she could do would sway Gabriel from what or whom he wanted. He was the most persistent man in the world. He had been that way with Florence too, when she resisted him at first. But she didn't for long. She had given in and abandoned herself to the myriad pleasures they shared. Sex wasn't the most important on that list, although it mattered, but he loved talking to her, laughing with her, listening to her, holding her for hours on end after they made love. He loved everything about her, her mind, her body, her style, her strength, her fame, her reputation, and her enormous talent. She was a woman like no other, beyond compare. He had expected to feel insignificant with her, but instead she pulled him up to her level in so many ways. He was learning so much from her, about writing, discipline, talent, humor. Thanks to her, his writing had already improved immeasurably, as had his directing. He could tell, and Florence noticed it too. He felt as though he were worshipping at the feet of the master, and in many ways he was.
As he lay in bed with her that night, he took off her sexy gold sandals and tossed them to the floor. The white jeans and turquoise silk shirt were next. She was wearing a thong and a lacy pale blue bra, and he smiled as he looked at her.
“There isn't a sexier woman alive,” he said, admiring her. Her body was still slim and tight. She worked out with one of the best trainers in town now every day. Making love with Gabriel every night gave her motivation. And she had taught him things he never knew.
She slowly peeled his clothes off then, in her slow sensual way that drove him insane, and moments later they were lying naked in each other's arms. She let the help go home at night now, and on warm nights they made love in the pool. But tonight, they were content to stay in her bed. It was a huge four-poster with a pink canopy, and for the past year it had been home to him.
She covered his lips with her own, slid on top of him, and began to ride him, and within seconds, Gabriel began to moan. She stayed that way, alternately teasing and pleasing, tantalizing him, and then slipped off him again, and went down on him with her mouth. He returned the favor and slowly the tides turned, and Gabriel was in control, and he drove her as crazy as she had him. It was a long time before they were sated and it was over, and afterward she lay in his arms, looking pleased. Gabriel looked spent and exhausted, and then laughed as he held her. He didn't know what her daughters thought of him, and at the moment he didn't care. He had never loved a woman like this. And minutes later, they were sound asleep in each other's arms. For both of them, the rest of the world just didn't exist.
Chapter 9
In mid-August, Leslie got a call from Chloe's mother. She had been invited on a yacht in the South of France for two weeks. She'd been spending weekends in Southampton with Chloe, and had been working on the same play on Broadway for a year.
“I'm sorry to do this to you, Leslie,” Monica apologized. She usually gave him more notice. “I need a vacation, and I may not get another chance for months. They have a good understudy for me, and I'd love like hell to get to Saint-Tropez on a boat. Could you take Chloe for me for a couple of weeks?” Normally, he would have leaped at the chance, but he had no idea how Liz and Jane would feel about having a child in their house. They were expecting their own now, but that was different. A six-year-old was more of a presence than a newborn, to say the least. He wanted her to get to know Coco anyway, so he hoped they would allow it.
“I think I can,” he said, sounding awkward. “I'm actually house-sitting at the moment, camping out at friends'. I have to ask them if they're okay about having a little girl here. I suppose if not, I could go to a hotel.” But he would lose his anonymity there, and everyone would know he was in town. He wanted to stay under the radar with Coco for a while. They didn't need the headache of the press. “I'll call you back,” he promised, and immediately called Jane. Instead he got Liz, who was keeping her cell phone for her while she was on the set. He explained his dilemma to her, but said he'd go to a hotel with his daughter if they preferred.
“Don't be silly,” Liz assured him. “We'd better get used to having kids in the house. We're having one of our own.” She wasn't sure if Coco had told him, or was friendly enough with him to do so. She knew that Coco had been telling Jane they hardly saw each other, which Liz didn't entirely believe.
“So I hear. Congratulations, to both of you. And I really appreciate your letting me have Chloe here. She's a lamb, and very well behaved. Like a small adult. Her mother takes her everywhere.” But apparently not on a yacht in the South of France, Liz mused. “I can hardly wait to show her San Francisco, and I thought Coco and I could take her to the beach.”
“I'm sure she'd love that,” Liz said with interest. What he said didn't quite support Coco's claims to her sister that they rarely met. “How are you and Coco getting along, by the way?” Liz asked innocently, fishing a little. She couldn't resist. For some strange reason, she loved the idea of them together. She had a lot of respect for Jane's younger sister, far more than Jane did herself. Unlike Jane, she didn't think Coco was a hopeless case, just different from her hardcore ambitious sister, and she knew Ian's death had hit her hard. Liz had always been very fond of Leslie too, and in spite of being an actor and a major star, she thought he was a good man, with good values.
“We're getting on like a house afire,” he admitted, sounding faintly sheepish. “She's an amazing woman. She's her
own person, and profoundly good and kind and decent.” He sang her praises, although he didn't need to, to Liz.
“It sounds like you two have been talking,” Liz said with a tone of approval.
“Yes, when she's not out with the 101 Dalmatians. It's a bit of an odd job, but her clients seem to keep her very busy, and she's happy doing it for now.” He didn't think her current job was a lifetime commitment, and he didn't see why her mother and sister were so upset about it. It was lucrative and respectable, after all, and she did it well. It was a profitable little business.
“They love her,” Liz confirmed. “She's the Pied Piper of dogs.”
“I suspect she will be with children too. I'm sure my daughter will love her. And thank you again for letting me have her here. I appreciate it a lot. Do I need to add to my security deposit for that? I feel like I should be paying rent.” He had been there for ten weeks. And Liz laughed.
“It's good company for Coco. I feel guilty as hell that we haven't found anyone to let her off the hook. We both tried, but everyone had summer plans, or they're going back to school in the fall. At least she's getting to live with a handsome movie star. That ought to make up for having to stay at our house.” Liz realized then, as she talked to him, that Coco hadn't complained in months, or begged to be relieved of her duties. That alone made Liz suspicious of what was going on. And Leslie sounded friendly and enthusiastic about her, but he didn't say they were head over heels in love with each other either. Maybe they were just friends, although Liz still didn't believe it, or they were being discreet. That seemed more likely. Or possibly nothing major had happened yet, and never would. Little did she know that they had made mad passionate love on his second night there, in their bed. There were some things she didn't need to know, so Leslie kept his tone light. Coco always said that Jane never asked, and it probably didn't even occur to her that they had gotten involved. She had already told Coco long since that she wasn't his type.
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