True Bliss

by Cameron, Stella

  "Thanks." Pushing him away, she sprang to her feet. "Now we can talk."

  Ron's legs quivered. With trembling hands he began straightening his clothes.

  "I know what you are."

  He stopped in the act of stooping for his slacks. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Exactly what I said. I know what you are. Maryan doesn't, does she?"

  He stood up and stared at her.

  "I didn't think so. You were right about one thing. I can't afford to fail here. I'll admit I've had a few bad days, but I'm feeling much better now."

  Ron retrieved his pants. "Glad to have been of service."

  "Even if you hated it?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "If you say so. But I can prove it, Ronny boy."

  A spasm hit his gut. "You're crazy."

  "The bathroom's over there." She indicated a closed door on the side of the room opposite the mirrors. "You'd better take care of the evidence or it'll be all over your pants."

  He felt himself redden. "What are you trying to pull here?"

  "We've got trouble. You, Maryan, and I. Maryan doesn't know just how much trouble yet, and when she finds out she's going to be a bitch to deal with. She'll be less of a bitch if you persuade her she needs my help. That she needs to take me into her confidence."

  "Against Sebastian?" He snorted. "Forget it."

  "Not against Sebastian. To protect Sebastian from himself— if that's what needs to be done."

  "Maryan likes to be the boss."

  "She can think she's the boss, as long as I'm the boss."

  Sweat stuck his shirt to his back. "What do you want? What are you trying to prove here?"

  "That I can control you—and Maryan. Find a way to make her understand she needs me."

  "You're dreaming."

  "And you," she said, surveying her nude body in the mirrors, "are a fool. Without me to help you, Maryan's going to squeeze you dry till she finds a way to get what she really wants. Then she'll send you back where you came from."

  "No—"

  "Yes. You and I can be the real team here. The key is to make sure nothing changes for Sebastian. With him in place and unscathed, I'm all right, and you'll be all right. Maryan's the one who can ruin everything for us."

  He needed something. A hit. He couldn't think straight anymore. "Maryan wants the best for Sebastian, too. I don't get—"

  "You will. Remember two things. If you cross me, I'll tell Maryan what happened here this morning, and she isn't going to believe I raped you, is she?"

  Ron couldn't form any words.

  "Secondly. Maryan doesn't just want what's best for Sebastian. Maryan wants Sebastian. Period."

  Eleven

  "Bliss! Hello, Bliss!"

  Wiping rain from her face, Bliss removed her useless glasses and strained to make out the figure that approached across grass and rocky earth turned to mud by a late afternoon downpour.

  The newcomer wasn't alone. Spike ambled up to Bliss and sniffed her sodden jeans.

  "Fabiola said I'd find you down here." Prue O'Leary, president of Women of Today and Bliss's old friend, plodded to stand beside Bliss on the bluff that fell to the lake. "Something about you checking a fence?"

  Bliss looked at her gloved hands. "One of the benefits of running an operation on a shoestring. You do a lot of your own maintenance."

  Prue pulled the hood of her dark green parka farther over her serious face. "If you're on a shoestring it's because that's the way you want it."

  Perhaps, Bliss decided, it was time to become less open with those she'd chosen to trust. She found she didn't like being criticized for having decided to make Hole Point a success without appealing to her family for funds.

  "What fence?" Prue peered behind Bliss. "You thinking of fencing the bluff?"

  Bliss pointed to an area off to her right where a circle of barbed wire coiled. "Not the bluff. And it's not really a fence.

  Just the barricade around the hole. Liberty had another of her fits yesterday. Threatened to jump down there."

  "Why?" Prue tramped toward the treacherously spiked wire.

  "The usual. Vic doesn't love her as a woman, and so on."

  "Kick 'em out," Prue said matter-of-factly while she stood on tiptoe to try for an angle on the opening into the ground. "Revamp the place. I've told you this could be a gold mine as a convention center."

  "And I've told you I'm not interested in a gold mine, or a convention center."

  Prue set her heels on the ground again and turned her round features up to Bliss. "How many tenants have you got?"

  "Three extra cabins are let out for the summer."

  "That's not what I asked."

  As always, Prue knew how to get at Bliss. "Vic and Liberty are year-rounders. That's two more cabins." She couldn't lie successfully.

  "I thought they shared."

  "In theory they don't. Anne Snow's still with us. She's away at the moment. Teaching a summer course in native Indian pottery in Arizona. Barbara McMann will be back from Europe in September."

  "Paid up before they left, did they?"

  Bliss gave Prue a hard look. "You didn't come to talk about rent." Spike wound her muddy body around her legs and grinned. Bliss pushed her away and ran her eyes over the widely spaced log cabins with their surrounding hedges of unruly yews. At the northernmost reaches of the property stood the small bungalow Polly and Bobby shared with Fabiola.

  "Shit's hit the fan," Prue announced succinctly.

  Asking the nature of the shit and the identity of the fan wouldn't be productive. Bliss bent her head into the driving rain and started back uphill.

  Prue fell in, panting a little, running to keep up with Bliss's much longer legs. "Got a response from your father."

  Bliss stopped and waited for Prue to face her again.

  "Don't look so shocked," Prue said. "I know you don't like the senator, but he is on our side in this one."

  "My father and I don't get along. That has nothing to do with anything as far and you and I are concerned, Prue."

  "Is it true you've seen Plato?"

  Rainwater finally found its way through the seams of Bliss's army surplus jacket, and ran between her shoulder blades. "Did my father say I had?"

  "He hinted as much. Something about how I'd better make sure our chairperson was really on board before we tried to move forward against Sebastian Plato."

  Vic's motorcycle roared over the rise and shot toward his cabin. He sighted Bliss and Prue and waved. Bliss waved back.

  "I don't know how you stand that man," Prue said.

  Prue wouldn't have understood a positive feeling about any man. "He's okay," Bliss said. "He's always there if I need him. I regard him as a friend."

  "You always had some strange notions. Bliss, you were seen at Lennox Rood's showing."

  "Really. By whom?"

  "Oh, I can't remember who said it."

  "I don't believe you, Prue." Bliss dried her glasses on a dripping handkerchief and put them on. At least she got a smeary view of Prue's expression. Guarded. "We've been friends a long time. I thought we'd agreed to remain friends even though our interests have gone in different directions."

  "We did agree to that."

  "Then why are you keeping tabs on me?"

  "I'm not. It's just that this is a big issue and—"

  "And you want to use me to get what you want."

  "Bliss—"

  "You contacted my father on the Raptor Vision issue. That wasn't something we discussed."

  Prue shrugged. "He's a powerful man and he shares our views on this one."

  "But I didn't agree to getting involved with my father on anything political—from his point of view, or yours."

  "Sorry. I assumed you'd understand."

  "You also told a reporter I'd agreed to chair a committee I didn't even know existed."

  "I knew you'd do it. You're the obvious candidate."

  Bliss's temper wore
thin. "I'm not interested. And please don't discuss me with my father or gather information on my activities."

  "I thought Lennox Rood was out of your good graces."

  "He's another old friend. He lived here."

  "Exactly." Prue's nostrils flared. "And he got the idea that you were in love with him and tried to use that."

  "All over," Bliss reminded her. "He asked me to come to his showing and I went because I wanted to. End of subject."

  "Plato—"

  "Sebastian Plato didn't have anything to do with what happened to that girl in New York."

  "She went there to try to be taken on by his agency," Prue argued hotly.

  "But he didn't kill her. Neither did anyone employed by him kill her."

  "That kind of outfit is demeaning to women."

  Bliss felt weary. "They aren't running a talent pageant. Both women and men model. They always will."

  "We don't need Raptor Vision here. Bellevue's been very successful in driving out unsuitable influences and we're not standing still for this one."

  This was what Bliss had eventually left behind when she'd parted company with her former career. "Your opinion isn't the only opinion worth considering," she said. "And in this case, it's wrong. You know how I feel about exploitation—I would never stand by and watch it if I could do something to help. But this time you're way off base."

  "You and Sebastian were together at Bellevue Square."

  "Damn it, Prue. Who told you this?"

  "I'm not going to make you mad at someone who was just making a passing remark."

  "A passing remark. Oh, come on." She shoved her hands in her pockets and continued uphill. "Let it go. I don't have time for any of this."

  "Morris said Kitten was over yesterday morning."

  "Oh, this is the end." Bliss spun around. "I'm so pleased you're on chatting terms with Morris. I can hardly say two words to him without him losing his temper, but you compare notes on my activities."

  "Stop it," Prue said, pressing her lips together. "I'm worried about you. You're too kind for your own good. That man used you years ago and—"

  "You stop. Right now. I thought I could trust you with things I've never confided to anyone. I made a terrible mistake. You already made suggestions the press could use. And you told Fab and Polly about Sebastian when we were in school. How could you, Prue?"

  Her friend had the grace to redden. "I got carried away. I shouldn't have. But neither should you have let him come walking back in here the way you have."

  They neared the lodge and Spike loped ahead and around to the back of the building. Bliss's lungs burned. She felt trapped— and angry.

  "You slept with him didn't you."

  "Prue!" So furious, she couldn't think, Bliss tore off her useless glasses and stuffed them in a pocket of the olive green camouflage jacket.

  "I see I've struck a nerve." Smugness didn't make Prue more likeable this afternoon.

  "I think you should leave," Bliss told her.

  "You did sleep with him. My God. You haven't seen him since you were just out of high school. He'd raped a girl and run away— just about leaving you at the altar. And the minute he shows up, you hop into bed with him. He must be quite something."

  "He is," Bliss said through gritted teeth. "Yes, Sebastian is really something."

  "Bliss, you know better—"

  "Better than to fall for a fabulous face and a body that any woman would kill for? Prue, you need an hour or two with Sebastian. I'm going to arrange it. You're sex-starved, that's the problem."

  "Bliss—"

  "No. No, you don't have to thank me. I believe in sharing perfection with my friends. What do you like best?"

  "Like?"

  "You know?" Bliss gave Prue a sly grin and dug her in the ribs with an elbow. "In bed. Or on the floor. Or in the shower— or on the kitchen table. Take it from me, Sebastian does it better than anyone and he does it anywhere and everywhere. You tell me what you want and I'll set it up."

  Prue's mouth hung open. Her brown eyes bulged.

  "Positions are no problem. He's very athletic and he's imaginative. Let me tell you, there can't be another man on this earth who uses his mouth in as many ways as Sebastian Plato. He's got this long, slow building technique that'll drive you insane."

  "That's disgusting." Prue drew her short body up very straight. "I don't know what's happened to you."

  Bliss started to chuckle. Her chuckles became laughter and she bent forward at the waist.

  "Was that supposed to be a joke?"

  Bliss nodded, helpless to speak now.

  "Well, it wasn't funny. Kitten was here early in the morning yesterday and Sebastian came downstairs without any clothes on."

  "He d-didn't," Bliss said. "He had jeans on."

  "That's not what I heard."

  "Well it's the truth."

  "Your mother was horrified. And Vic and that butterfly-brained model of his were there. How embarrassing. You would never have allowed your reputation to get mixed up with people like that until you came here."

  "I should have come here years earlier," Bliss said, sober again. "Prue, we're either going to agree not to discuss any of this again, or we're going to tread very separate paths until you're through with whatever you're trying to accomplish."

  "Bliss, don't do this."

  "I'm not doing anything. You are. Do you want a cup of hot tea? We could forget we ever had this conversation."

  A mutinous crease formed between Prue's eyes. "I've got to get back to the rest of the group. We're having a meeting. I want you to come with me."

  "Not in this lifetime."

  "Please, Bliss."

  "Absolutely not."

  "If I can prove to you that Plato's bad news will you reconsider?"

  "You won't be able to prove it." Rash words, but she wasn't going to judge Sebastian again—not without gathering her own evidence against him.

  "Your parents are furious with you."

  "What else is new."

  "Morris said Sebastian insulted Kitten."

  How typical of her mother to twist the truth. "Sebastian insulted my mother by politely telling her he didn't care about her opinions of him. He also told her he wasn't ashamed of being a bastard and didn't intend to become ashamed of being a bastard. Which means my mother made a point of telling him he was a bastard from the wrong side of the tracks and that she thought he should go back where he belonged. That was because he refused to turn tail and leave my home when she told him to."

  A dark green limousine slipped into the lane and parked beside Prue's tiny brown Honda.

  "That's him, isn't it?" Prue asked, planting her feet. "Oh, Bliss, don't do this to your friends."

  A chauffeur got out of the limousine and raised an umbrella. He stepped back to open a door and sheltered the tall woman who got out.

  "Who is it?" Prue asked.

  "Just a new tenant," Bliss said, as curious as Prue. "If you don't have any more questions, I'd better get ready to help her fill out her application forms."

  "Don't be ridiculous."

  "Bye, Prue. Thanks for stopping by. I'll call you."

  "Have it your way. I'm going. One more question, though. Did you find out what it was you saw the other night? The ghost or whatever?"

  "What—" She would have to warn Fabiola and Polly not to talk to Prue. "I was jumpy the other night. I'd had a difficult day and something put my imagination into overdrive. That's it. I didn't really see anything." Or not anything she'd been able to explain afterward, not that she'd entirely stopped worrying about it.

  The chauffeur held the gate to the lane open and then had to hurry to keep up with the woman he shielded with the umbrella.

  "Who is she?" Prue said. "Someone you know?"

  Bliss shook her head in exasperation.

  "Okay. But I'm not waiting for you to call me. You'll pass through this stage and come to your senses. Good-bye. Take care, please, you're very important to me."


  Bliss felt a niggling guilt. "You're important to me, too, Prue. We're just going to have to agree to disagree on this one. Don't worry. I won't do anything stupid."

  "I wish I could be sure of that." Prue walked purposefully away, her head bowed. When she passed the newcomers, she stared at the woman for longer than was polite before continuing on to the Honda.

  Bliss waited for her visitors to come to her.

  She'd agreed to get together with Sebastian again tonight. The scene with Kitten had been horrible, and later Bliss's father had visited the Point for only the second time in her memory. The first had been immediately after Auntie Blanche died when he'd come for the reading of the will and been furious to learn that Bliss was her aunt's sole heir.

  Despite exceedingly high-heeled beige pumps, the woman

  who approached picked her way rapidly over the slippery ground. The chauffeur's umbrella obscured her face. A rust-colored raincoat of some silky fabric swirled from narrow shoulders to wide hem and alternately billowed and wrapped itself around the woman's slim form.

  "This must be it," Bliss heard the woman say. "The ugly log place."

  Bliss smiled to herself. "Good afternoon. Can I help you?"

  The woman didn't stop walking. She did jerk the handle of the oversized umbrella until she could see Bliss. "I doubt it," she said. "I want to see Bliss Winters."

  Short brown hair gelled straight back. When Bliss had last seen this woman, her hair had been short, too, but combed forward around her face, and minus the gray streak that now swept from one temple.

  "Good God," Maryan Plato said, taking Bliss in from her wet, disheveled hair, to the green rubber boots with yellow soles that had come from the same surplus store as the camouflage jacket. She flapped a gloved hand at the chauffeur. "Go away. Wait in the car. I'll send for you. Is this your place?" She asked Bliss, indicating the lodge.

  Bliss walked silently past her to the porch. Using a toe, she worked off the heel of the opposite boot, then stood on her bare foot to remove the other boot. Maryan Plato shouldn't have the power to make her feel weak, or to make her head ache, or her arms and legs tremble.