by Suzie Nelson
“I’ll see what I can do,” said Tansy, turning back around to face the front.
Sasha watched Angie and his assistant tease each other and smiled. It was nice to see everyone getting along. Tansy and Bruce were the closest things he had to friends or family and, in his own quiet way, he really cared for them. And Angie…well, that was a whole other kettle of fish.
***
The Arizona hills were awash in violets and rust reds as Bob landed their plane in the small airstrip behind Sasha’s enormous ranch. The sun was just beginning to set and, as night approached, there was a nip in the air that had been missing in sweaty Los Angeles. The first few stars twinkled overhead in the dusky lilac sky.
“Oh my God,” said Angie as she descended from the plane, “this place is beautiful. I can’t believe it!” She craned her neck to take in the immense expanse of sky and dessert. “Wow,” she whispered.
Sasha smiled. He loved how she wasn’t afraid to be impressed by things. Her child-like wonder delighted him and made him appreciate things he sometimes took for granted. “Tomorrow I’ll take you out for a ride into the hills. Just wait.”
Angie’s eyebrows shot up, “Really? Wait, a ride, like, on horses?”
He nodded. “Like on horses,” he repeated.
Angie bit her lip. “I…I don’t know how to ride,” she admitted. “It’s not exactly something they teach you growing up in L.A.”
Sasha laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s not that hard. Tansy had never even seen a horse when she came to work for me and now she rides beautifully. I’ll teach you, don’t worry.”
“He’s a surprisingly good teacher for someone who’s so aloof and impatient,” Tansy added as she passed them, her suitcase rolling behind her.
“That would be amazing,” said Angie. “I’ve always wanted to learn to ride a horse. I guess it’s every little girl’s dream, isn’t it?”
“Not mine,” Tansy said from ahead of them. “I wanted to ride dinosaurs. Hurry up, you two. Before it gets dark!”
Sasha and Angie smiled at each other and quickly followed the assistant into the enormous adobe house.
Chapter 9
Sasha’s ranch was like something right out of a magazine. Angie wandered the halls, running her fingers along the cool, white-washed adobe walls, herslippered feet sliding along the polished wood floors. Here and there beautifully woven carpets and blankets hung on the walls in various shades of red, green, blue, black and cream. Above her, the ceiling was made of wood as well, braced on enormous rafters that had been cut from whole trees. From every window the dessert and the sky stretched on to infinity, only broken by the odd sprawling cactus or the low, purplish line of the hills rising on the east. It was very different from his house in Santa Monica, which had been showy and ornate. Here everything was simple and clean. She loved it.
In the kitchen, Sasha was reading the newspaper while eating eggs on toast and drinking black coffee that she could smell from the door. It made her stomach rumble.
The superstar glanced up from his paper and smiled. “There’s coffee in the pot if you want it. Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. But eat something hardy. We’re going for a long ride today.”
“I can’t wait,” said Angie, deciding to copy Sasha and fry some eggs. “This place is amazing, Sasha. Did you design it?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but it’s based on the architecture of the region. I like how simple it is. Just nice clean lines.”
“Me too,” she said. “And I could look at that view forever.”
They finished breakfast without seeing Bruce or Tansy and packed a bag with snacks and lots of water, which Sasha swung onto his back before Angie could even offer to take it. Not that Angie was complaining. It was hot outside and she knew a backpack would just make her sweat. Once she’d swapped her slippers for socks and boots, Sasha led her out to the stables to choose a mount.
“One of the mares would probably be your best bet,” he told her, petting each horse as he went by. “They’re the calmest.”
He stopped in front of a tall, chestnut mare with a black mane. “How about Julia?” he asked. “You two would suit each other, I think.”
Angie bit her lip and approached the horse, letting her smell her hand as Sasha had taught her. The mare whinnied and nuzzled her nose into Angie’s palm, tickling her skin. Angie giggled. “Yeah, I like her,” she said.
“Excellent,” said Sasha. “Let’s get her saddled up.”
At first, Angie was hesitant: the mare, calm or not, was really tall. It was a long way to fall if Angie lost her balance.
Sasha watched her eyeing the horse with evident misgivings and chuckled. “You won’t fall, I promise. And, even if you do somehow manage to topple over, I’ll catch you.”
“Pinkie swear?” Angie asked, looking up at him seriously.
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Sasha responded, taking the oath as seriously as he had when he was a child.
Angie made a face. “Okay,” she said, “here goes nothing.” She reached up, grabbing hold of the saddle and tried to heave herself up. Not having the upper body of a gymnast, she was soon back on solid ground and slightly out of breath.
Sasha laughed again. “Okay, first of all, you’re on the wrong side. You want to be on the left. Put your left foot in the stirrup, that’s the hanging loop bit, and lift your right leg up and over. I can give you a boost if you want.”
Angie shook her head, slightly embarrassed. “Let me try first and then if I just end up looking like an idiot again, you can give me a boost.”
“Agreed,” said Sasha as he led her around the front of the patient horse. “Try again from this side.”
Angie took hold of the saddle again for support and slid her left foot into the stirrup as he’d told her. Standing up, she flung her right leg over the mare’s broad back and, much to her surprise, found herself astride the horse.
“Oh my gosh!” she said, sounding just like her mother as she clutched the saddle so tightly her knuckles went white. “Oh God, I’m on a horse. This is very high up!”
Sasha laughed. “You’re doing great,” he said. “Now, let go of the saddle and take hold of the reins. And sit up. This’ll be easier with good posture.”
Hesitantly, Angie let go of the leather saddle and took the reins in both hands.
“Perfect,” said Sasha as he brought out his own horse, a large dappled gray animal who looked thoroughly unimpressed by Angie’s theatrics. Effortlessly, Sasha pulled himself up into his saddle, loosely holding the reins in one hand.
“Now you’re just showing off,” said Angie. “Admit it: you just brought me out here to embarrass me.”
Sasha grinned. “Only partially,” he said.
“I knew it,” Angie grumbled jokingly. But the truth was she was excited to learn to ride and explore the beautiful landscape. And she had faith that Sasha really would catch her if she fell.
Slowly but surely they made their way out of the stables, Sasha coaxing Angie along until she felt comfortable. By the time they left the ranch’s property, however, Angie was feeling pretty good about the whole thing and had gotten comfortable with her horse’s mellow gait. And, she soon discovered, the more relaxed she was, the more comfortable the ride was.
Plus, she had to admit that the scenery was incredible. They crested a low hill and paused for a minute to drink some water and take in the view. Angie put her hand up to shade her eyes and sighed. “This is amazing,” she said, looking out across the rust and gold landscape. “I feel like I can see forever.”
Sasha smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I like about this place. Plus it’s such an alien landscape. It’s nothing like California or the rest of the coast.”
“That’s for sure,” Angie agreed. “Hey,” she said, pointing at a large bird flying some ways away. “Is that an eagle?”
Sash squinted. “Looks more like a vulture,” he said.
“Wow,” Ang
ie grinned. “I’ve never seen a vulture before. Man, this is so cool.”
The movie star laughed, “Wanna know the word for vulture in Russian?”
“Obviously,” said Angie, grinning. “That’s, like, a key piece of vocabulary,” she joked.
Sasha laughed, leading her away from the edge of the hill and back onto the trail. “I use it all the time, it’s true,” he replied, playing along.
***
A few hours later they stopped for snacks in the shade of an acacia tree that had sprung up next to a small spring bubbling through the rocky terrain. Sasha pulled a blanket from the backpack and spread it out on the ground while Angie went to investigate the plants growing by the bank. Taking off her socks and boots, she stuck her feet into the cool, clear water, sighing as her hot feet immediately cooled off.
Watching her from the meager shade of the acacia tree’s thorny branches, Sasha smiled. “Feels good?” he asked.
“Like heaven,” Angie grinned. She looked up at the wide blue sky and lifted up her arms, exposing her flat tummy and a tiny diamond chip belly button piercing. “This is amazing!” she shouted to the cloudless sky.
“I didn’t know you’d pierced your belly button,” said Sasha, eyeing the twinkling jewel.
Angie dropped her arms immediately and blushed. “I got it done when I was a teen. I was going to take it out during college, but Josh hated it so much that I kept it in just to annoy him. It was my big rebellion,” she rolled her eyes. “I guess I just kinda forgot about it.” She looked down at her stomach and made a face. “Josh is right though. It’s pretty juvenile, isn’t it?”
Sasha shrugged. “Who cares? If you like it, why the hell shouldn’t you keep it?”
Angie chuckled. “I do like it,” she admitted. “It’s silly, but I like it.”
“Then screw what everyone else thinks,” said Sasha. “Are you hungry? I brought some apples and a really amazing goat’s cheese that this old lady down the road makes. I think it may actually be the tastiest cheese in the world. Plus, she has absolutely no idea who I am. I drive down there and buy a bunch and she says: ‘Oh, what a nice young man you are. So polite.’ And then she asks me to help her fix her fences. It cracks Tansy up every time.”
“And do you?” Angie asked, smiling.
“Do I what?”
“Help her with her fences?”
Sasha raised an eyebrow. “Is that your question of the day?” he replied.
Angie rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. Yes, it is.”
“Of course,” Sasha replied. “She’s, like, ninety eight. I’m not a monster.”
Angie laughed. “Why do you like being incognito so much? Don’t most celebrities like the fame?”
Sasha shook his head. “You’ve already had your question. Now, do you want some of this cheese or not? Because if you don’t come get some soon I’m gonna eat it all.”
Giggling, Angie headed for the bank, her bare feet sliding along the flat, gray rocks of the stream bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone barefoot. It wasn’t something you got the chance to do very often in the urban jungle of L.A. – not even on the beaches. It felt good to feel the rough stones on her skin and the cold water run over her toes.
Unfortunately, Angie was so caught up enjoying the sensation, that she didn’t look where she was going and her foot slid on the slippery surface of a half-submerged rock. Her ankle twisted painfully and, with a surprised shout, she tipped forward.
“Hey, woah,” said Sasha, catching her just before she landed and scraped her knees on the rocky ground. “The cheese is good but it’s not worth dying for, Angie,” he joked, helping her stand up.
Angie chuckled, holding onto his arms for balance. “Oh, sure, now you tell me that. Way to change your tune, Pollock,” she joked. Then she hissed in pain as she tried to put weight on her ankle. “I think I did something to my ankle,” she said. Glancing down at her foot, she made a face.
Sasha nodded and bent down to take a look, resting her hand on his shoulder to keep her balanced. Gently, he took her injured ankle in his hands and began to turn it this way and that, making Angie hiss again.
“Yeah,” he said, “I think you’ve twisted it.” Standing up again, he wrapped one arm around her waist and, without warning, lifted her into his arms.
“Woah!” said Angie. “Hey, what—it’s not broken, Sasha! You don’t need to carry me!”
Sasha grinned, but didn’t put her down. “Maybe not,” he said. “But the ground’s rocky. It’d take you half an hour to walk the ten feet back to the food and I don’t want to wait that long to eat the cheese.”
“But isn’t that what you want?” Angie asked, playing along. In truth, she was enjoying the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. “To have the cheese all to yourself?”
She rested her head on his shoulder, her face so close to his that she could see each individual eyelash. His dark eyes crinkled in the corners as he laughed at her suggestion and the corners of his long, sensual mouth curled up in a delighted smile. Angie felt her heart squeeze in her chest. At some point in the past two weeks, this face had become dearer to her than almost anything else in the world. She felt the sudden urge to trace her fingers along his tanned skin, following the lines and planes she knew so well. She bit her lip and looked down, moving her head so that it fit into the curve of his neck. Was it her imagination or did he ever so briefly rest his cheek on her hair?
Sasha set her down on the blanket under the acacia tree and propped her foot up on the backpack, still laughing at her suggestion.
“Yes,” he replied, setting to work spreading the creamy goat cheese on bread, “I do want the cheese all to myself, but you’re injured. I can’t in good conscious just sit here eating cheese while you try to hobble back from the stream. Listening to you moan and complain would ruin the beauty of the moment. This cheese should only be eaten when you can give it your full appreciation.”
Angie snorted with laughter. “My hero,” she said, accepting a slice of rye bread generously smeared with the famous goat cheese. Taking a bite, she gave a little moan of pleasure. “Oh my God, it really is good,” she said.
“Right?” Sasha agreed, taking an enormous bite of his own slice.
For a moment they just sat there in silence, chewing their bread and cheese and watching the sun play across the glittering stream. The pain in Angie’s ankle had settled to a dull throb and she soon learned to ignore it and enjoy the beauty of the scenery – and her companion.
However, she soon realized that Sasha was watching her. Taking her eyes off the distant horizon, she turned to meet his gaze. “Yes?” she asked, smiling slightly to cover her embarrassment at being watched so intently. He hadn’t looked away when she turned back to him and his dark eyes were fixed on her, filled with some emotion she couldn’t name.
“Do I have goat cheese on my chin?” she asked, joking, trying to ease the sudden, inexplicable tension.
Sasha shook his head. “How long do you think it’ll take you to get enough material for your article?” he asked suddenly.
Angie blinked. “Uhh,” she said, “I dunno. I guess, really, I could already write a pretty good interview. I…do you want me to go?” her voice grew quiet. She’d been having such a good time that she hadn’t thought about when this adventure would end. She realized suddenly that she really, really didn’t want it to.
“I get it,” she continued, rambling slightly. “You’ve had me tagging along behind you for over a week now. It must be getting pretty annoying for you. Just say the word and I’m…gone,” she said, finishing her sentence slowly and softly.
Sasha shook his head. “It’s not annoying,” he said, “and I don’t want you gone.”
“Oh,” said Angie, confused. “Well, okay. Then I guess I’m…staying?”
“Do you want to stay?” he asked.
“Of course,” said Angie quick
ly. She desperately wanted to tell him how much she’d loved the past few days and how much she’d grown to care for him, but she was worried she would sound like some crazy fan. “I…these have been some of the best days of my life,” she finally admitted, ducking her head and toying with the woolen threads of the blanket.
Sasha watched her play with the blanket for a moment. “Me too,” he said finally.
He shifted on the blanket, coming closer to Angie. She looked up, meeting his eyes. Very, very gently, he reached out and stroked her cheek with his thumb.
Angie felt warmth bubble up inside her while, simultaneously, her stomach exploded with butterflies. She was caught between the desire to grab Sasha and kiss him and the desire to get up and run away as fast as she could. Instead, she did neither, but sat, frozen, her eyes locked with his.