Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set

by Sandra Marton

  ‘Laundry?’

  ‘Yesterday, it was my Christmas card list.’

  Claire held up her hand. ‘Spare me, will you? Let me keep some of my illusions, at least. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me that none of those sexy on-screen scenes are real.'

  Claire’s look of absolute innocence made Shannon grin.

  ‘OK, you’ve made your point. The illusion is what counts—I know that, sure. And I thought, at first, Tony and I had created the illusion. But Crawford wants more. He wants...’

  ‘Sparks,’ the agent said, sitting back as their main courses were served. She cut into her meat loaf and looked up at her client. ‘He gave me the same speech he gave you.’

  ‘Jerry? Well, at least he’s consistent.’ Shannon swal­lowed a small piece of steak and frowned. ‘Which re­minds me—you still haven’t told me why Jerry wants you to see this musician tonight. Does he want your opinion of the guy’s performance or something?’

  ‘Or something. Listen, tell me about this visit you people had today from Cade Morgan. I hear it was really something.’

  The agent’s voice was casual, but there was a glint in her eyes that made Shannon uncomfortable. She must know what had happened, Shannon thought unhappily. She had to. After all, Claire had come on the set only an hour after the whole awful scene. And Shannon had violated one of her agent’s cardinal rules.

  ‘Don’t draw negative attention to yourself,’ she always said, and that was exactly what Shannon had done, in front of her di­rector, the cast and the entire crew.

  Confess and get it over with, Shannon told herself. It could be worse. At least she was still employed.

  ‘Look, I don’t know what you heard,’ she said quickly. ‘I admit, it was a bit unpleasant for a while... ’

  Claire raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s not quite the way it was described to me.’

  ‘All right, I behaved like a jerk. But the man infu­riated me.’ Shannon’s fork clattered against the plate and she leaned across the table. ‘Picture this,’ she said, her voice an irritated hiss. ‘I rehearsed my fourth scene with Rima the Prima... ’

  ‘Careful. Someday, you’re going to slip and call her that to her face.'

  ‘Four scenes,’ Shannon repeated through gritted teeth, ‘and at least that many rehearsals, and the woman still looks right through me and calls me “Miss I’m-sorry-I- can’t-remember-your name”. And then I spent an hour panting in Tony’s ear, only to have Crawford tell me he didn’t see any sparks, and then Morgan walked in. You can’t imagine what went on, Claire. Until that minute, Jerry had been reminding everybody that we had moun­tains of work to do and no time to do it in, but once Morgan showed up, well, we had all the time in the world. God, but I am sick to death of celebrities!’

  ‘Shannon, dear, I know how you feel about this,’ Claire said quickly. ‘And you’re right. You should have the part Rima has.’

  ‘I had it, until Rima turned up wanting a “career in the theatre”,’ Shannon said bitterly. ‘The ce­lebrity system at work! A celebrity can become an actor overnight, but all the rest of us have to keep at it for a lifetime.’

  ‘This is a better part for you, Shannon. You know it is. It’s a showcase for your talent.’

  ‘They’ve written the role down for her, Claire. She may be a “star”, but she can’t act. She doesn’t have to. Cade Morgan’s another one. No talent, but who cares?'

  ‘Don’t be so quick to write him off, sweetie.’

  ‘All I’m saying is that it was so damned typical—there we were, working our tails off, and in walks this.. .this over-aged rock star...’

  ‘Come on, Shannon, be fair! The man’s thirty-something. Hardly a candidate for an old-age pension. And he’s multi-talented. He plays rock and blues and ballads, and then there’s all that classical stuff...’

  ‘He didn’t look very classical, not in that motorcycle outfit he was wearing. I guess that was his macho look...’

  ‘The script girl said he looked sexy,’ Claire smirked.

  ‘If you like the type,’. Shannon said stiffly.

  ‘Who doesn’t? Those gorgeous eyes and that marvelous body and that face and that talent...’

  ‘Interesting that you put talent last on the list.’

  ‘You can’t deny that he’s got talent,’ Claire said. ‘He went through Dartmouth on scholarship.’

  ‘That’s what his publicist says.’

  ‘Shannon, I won’t argue with you. Just listen to his music, okay?’

  ‘Are you my agent or his? Don’t sell him to me, Claire. You should have seen his entrance today. He acted as if he were the king come to visit his subjects. Everybody was supposed to bow and scrape.’

  ‘Really?’ the other woman asked coyly. ‘The story I got from Crawford was that the guy came in alone, without any fanfare at all.’

  ‘Well, maybe,’ Shannon admitted grudgingly. ‘But everybody bowed and scraped. You’d have thought he was... I don’t know, royalty or something.’

  ‘He is. American royalty. His concerts sell out as soon as they’re announced...’ Claire paused. ‘And they said you could hear the sizzle when he kissed you.’

  ‘What he did,’ Shannon said quietly, ‘was embarrass the hell out of me. The sizzle everybody heard was me, burning with anger. I wanted to slap his face. I don’t know why I didn’t, now that I think about it. Maybe it was just that he caught me by surprise.’

  The agent placed her knife and fork neatly across her empty plate.-

  ‘He pulled her into his arms as if he were going to devour her,’ she said calmly. ‘That’s a quote from one of the make-up people.’

  ‘A misquote, you mean. He didn’t pull me into his arms. Besides, it doesn’t matter. It’s over.’

  ‘Padgett collapsed against him as if her legs had turned to jelly at his touch.’ Claire sat back while the waitress cleared away their dishes and served her apple pie. Then she leaned across the table, eyes narrowed. ‘That’s a quote from the script girl.’

  ‘The child reads too many romances,' Shannon said coldly. 'I did not collapse against him. I barely touched him.’

  ‘The second they looked at each other, you could see the sparks fly. And when Morgan kissed her, everybody in that studio caught his breath. It was a toss- up as to whether Shannon would kill him or drag him into the sack.’

  ‘Not true!’ Shannon said with horror in her voice. . ‘What damned fool said that?’

  ‘Jerry Crawford,’ Claire said sweetly. ‘Your director. Boy, this pie is delicious. Want a bite?’

  Shannon shook her head. A prickle of suspicion was beginning to dance up her spine. There was something wrong with this entire conversation.

  In fact, there was something wrong with finding herself in a restaurant in East Meadow, Long Island on a Thursday night in late October.

  Claire prided herself on never leaving the borough of Manhattan, except when business de­manded. It had even been an effort to convince her to pay a visit to the Cape Cod repertory theatre when Shannon had appeared there.

  ‘Claire,’ she said softly, ‘why are we here tonight?’

  ‘I told you, I have to check out somebody.’

  ‘Why am I going, then?’

  ‘You’re keeping me company, Shannon. You’re going as a favor to me.’

  ‘And you’re going as a favor to Crawford,’ Shannon said quietly. 'You still haven’t explained that.’

  The agent pushed aside her empty plate. ‘OK, why not? I mean, I didn’t want to say any­thing to you until It was certain, but... It’s almost in the bag, I guess, and... ’

  The prickle of suspicion was doing a tap dance. Everybody seemed terribly interested in what had happened between her and Cade Morgan. And suddenly Jerry Crawford wanted something from Claire—that was interesting all by itself, especially since Shannon had never seen him say more than hello or goodbye to her agent.

  Until today, she thought sud­denly, until today, when Crawford had spirited Claire int
o a dark corner of the sound stage and talked to her in low tones for almost ten minutes; until today, when Cade Morgan had shown up and spoken knowledgeably about the script..

  She took a deep breath. ‘Who’s performing at the Coliseum, Claire?’ she asked in a soft voice. ‘Who are we going to see?’

  The woman glanced around her and then leaned to­wards Shannon. ‘Cade Morgan,’ she whispered dra­matically, ‘that’s who.’ She ran her tongue across her lips and her voice dropped even lower. ‘ Crawford’s just about signed him for a role in your soap.'

  ‘What?'

  ‘He was going to do a few days’ work— you know, a guest shot thing—but then today, after what happened between you and Morgan.’

  ‘Nothing happened! I lost my temper. And Morgan retaliated by making a fool of me.’

  ‘That’s not the way other people saw it.'

  ‘Never mind what other people saw! ‘Cade Morgan and I... ’

  ‘Cade Morgan and you set tongues wagging on a set where people are so blasé they don’t react to anything! That’s pretty damned impressive.’

  ‘Look, I’m not going to argue about it. It’s over and done with, and—'

  ‘Shannon, just listen, okay? Jerry and the producers had a meeting this afternoon. They’re thinking of playing you and Morgan together.’

  Shannon stared at her agent in disbelief. ‘You can’t be serious. You mean, Cade Morgan would play op­posite me instead of Tony?’

  Claire smiled. "Exactly.'

  'No. That's impossible. That’s Tony’s part. It’s set...’

  ‘So they’ll unset it. There’s time; your storyline doesn’t take off until next week. God, this is so exciting!’ Claire leaned forward and placed her hand on Shannon’s. ‘Everybody would be watching, and I do mean everybody. Hollywood people, Broadway people, inter­national film people—they’d all see your work and know your name. This could shoot your career into orbit.’

  ‘No. No! Claire...’

  ‘And, of course, your part would be expanded. You might end up one of the stars, if things go the way Crawford expects.’

  Shannon shook her head. ‘What this might end up is a disaster!'.

  ‘Disaster? Sweetie, Crawford says you and Morgan will be dy­namite together. He says he has Morgan half-convinced to take the part. He says...’

  ‘Did he say what would happen if Morgan bombs? The man’s not an actor. Crawford wants him because he has an enormous following. And if Morgan bombs, so do I!'

  ‘Nobody's gonna bomb. Think of the publicity! Every fan Morgan has would tune in.’

  Apprehension filled Shannon with cold dread. ‘Claire, listen to me,’ she said desperately. ‘You know what happens each time the camera’s on Rima. She’s not an actress—everybody in the scene with her has to carry her.’

  ‘You think that’s what will happen with Morgan Well, I guess it’s possible, but even so, he'll draw zillions of viewers.'

  'What you're telling me is—you're telling me I don't have anything to say about this.'

  'No,' her agent said bluntly, 'you don't. This is Crawford's decision.'

  Shannon felt tears of anger burn behind her eyes.

  ‘It isn’t fair,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I’ve worked damned hard for this chance. Just think of how many good actors have cut their teeth on soaps. If you can make it in daily daytime drama, you can certainly make it in films or prime-time TV. I mean, what are half the big nighttime TV shows but soaps?'

  ‘You don’t have to sell me on soaps,’ Claire said patiently. ‘I don’t think anybody has to sell Morgan, either. That’s why he wants this part of Tony’s. I’m sure he’s got his eye on bigger and better things.’

  Shannon’s eyes flashed. ‘And what happens to Tony? Does he get dumped?’

  Claire sighed. ‘That’s one of the advantages to all those characters and plotlines. They’ll find another part for Tony. Not that they have to—you know how it is in a soap. Nobody’s indispensable.’

  ‘Which brings us back to square one. Have you thought about what might happen to me if this over-the-hill guitar player doesn’t work out?’

  Claire patted Shannon’s hand. ‘Relax. Crawford wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize the ratings. If he wants to use Morgan, he must figure the guy can carry it off. Where is that waitress?’ Claire added, peering around the restaurant. ‘I don’t want to get to the our seats late.’

  The few mouthfuls of steak lay like lead shot in Shan­non’s stomach.

  ‘I can’t believe this. The man has no training, no talent, nothing except his name.’

  ‘His name, his gold records, his fans...’

  ‘He probably has all the acting talent of a—a baboon, and I’m supposed to make him look good?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s what Crawford expects, Shannon. He says the guy has natural talent.’

  ‘In bed, maybe,’ Shannon snapped, the words tum­bling from her mouth before she could censor them.

  ‘So you do know what came across in the studio today,’ the agent said softly.

  ‘What happened today had nothing to do with sex.’ For the space of a heartbeat, Shannon remembered the pressure of Cade Morgan’s hand on her neck and the feel of his mouth on hers. ‘Nothing at all,’ she repeated, forcing the fragmented memory aside. ‘I in­sulted him. He got even. Period. End. Finished. Why can’t anybody understand that?’

  Claire sighed and signaled for their bill. ‘To tell you the truth, that’s what I thought, after I heard the story. But Crawford insisted that wasn’t the case. So, while you were scrubbing off your make-up, I talked to a few other people.’ She cast a sidelong glance at Shannon and smiled guiltily. ‘I told you, they saw the same thing Crawford saw.’

  ‘They saw what they wanted to see.’

  ‘Maybe. That’s why I wanted to see Cade Morgan perform tonight.’ She took Shannon's hand. ‘Look, you know I wouldn’t let you make a bad career move. If there aren’t any sparks or flames or whatever it is all those jokers think they saw...’

  ‘Of course there aren’t!’

  ‘Then I’ll be the first to say so. And tomorrow, I’ll convince Crawford it’ll be better to let Morgan do his guest shot and to let you and Tony have another go at that scene. I promised Jerry, OK? What’s the big deal?’ Claire glanced at her watch and slid from the booth. ‘We don’t have much time,’ she said. ‘Morgan’s Marauders come on in half an hour.’

  Shannon got to her feet and slipped into her jacket. ‘Believe me, if his group’s anything like him, that’s a perfect choice of names,’ she said grimly, following Claire out of the crowded restaurant. ‘Wait until you see this man. There’s nothing subtle about him.’

  Claire buttoned her coat as they stepped into the crisp autumn night. ‘‘Don’t worry about a thing,’ she said. ‘We’ll watch the performance and then we’ll go backstage and I’ll introduce myself to Cade Morgan...’

  Shannon came to a dead stop. ‘I am not going back­stage,’ she said firmly. ‘I don’t want to see the man again.’.

  ‘Look, you want me to get this idea out of Crawford’s head, right? Well, how do you expect me to do that unless I can tell Crawford there isn’t any chemistry between the two of you? Those mythical sparks everybody talked about...’

  ‘They're just that,’ Shannon said stubbornly. ‘Mythical. Nothing more.’

  ‘Fine. Just let me do my job tonight.' Claire tucked her arm through Shannon’s as the light changed. ‘ Trust me, OK? We’ll say hello to Cade Morgan...’

  ‘Not me,’ Shannon said quickly. ‘I’m not saying any­thing to him.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll say hello, you’ll glare. Fair enough?’

  ‘And then tomorrow you’ll tell Jerry his idea’s no good, right?’

  ‘If that's what I think, that's what I'll tell him.’

  Shannon took a deep breath. ‘Okay. We’ll suffer through a couple of hours of bad music and then we’ll go pay our respects to Cade Morgan.’ She smiled tightly. ‘Actua
lly, I’m sure he wants no more to do with me than I want to do with him. In fact, we’d better make sure he doesn’t know we’re in the house until he finishes performing. Or he might just have me thrown out.’

  ‘Is his music bad?’ Claire asked innocently. ‘I’m not sure I’m familiar with it.’

  Shannon thought of the softly haunting songs and husky voice she’d listened to for years, though she'd sooner have walked through the flames of hell and admit to that.

  ‘Neither am I,’ she said, lying so glibly that she never had time to wonder why she had lied in the first place.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Had so many people ever been in one place at one time before? Shannon stared at the stage of the Coliseum, as much surprised by the size of the audience as by its in­tensity. There had been tickets waiting for them at the box office—courtesy of Jerry Crawford, Shannon was certain, although Claire had ignored her when she’d asked who had arranged for them—and they’d been ushered to two seats in the first row, center stage.

  The auditorium was enormous. There were enough people seated in it to make up the population of a small town. The opening act was just leaving the stage as Shannon and Claire settled into their seats. The crowd applauded politely and then the usual rustles and coughs spread through the huge hall.

  The crowd was murmuring quietly, but Shannon was aware of an electricity in the air, a subtle tingle that sent a shudder through her. She felt as she sometimes did on a hot August day, watching the sky darken as a thun­derstorm swept in. There was that same sense of some­thing powerful and exciting approaching, the same heady mixture of anticipation and caution.

  The house lights dimmed. The first, faint melody of an old Marauders’ song sighed eerily through the Col­iseum and the audience grew silent. Gradually, smoky- blue spotlights winked on, revealing the Marauders—a drummer, a bass player, and a guy playing the keyboard.