“But an actress like you wouldn’t want scarred knees.” Mrs. Tremaine tut-tutted as she pushed aside papers, pencils, paperclips and other assorted desk-drawer detritus.
“You’d never believe what they can do with makeup,” Greta said dryly. “They’ve been fixing me up for years.”
The woman looked up and smiled. What a wonderful, warm smile she had. “I doubt they’d need to do that.” She bent again to the drawer and almost immediately came up with a tube of cream. “A-ha. Here it is.” Her expression turned a little tentative again. “Would you mind if I applied it?”
This was a little weird, but what the heck? It wasn’t like this nice woman was a serial rapist or anything. “That would be nice.” Then she realized she’d have to take down the slacks. Awkward, but she’d already committed. Mrs. Tremaine busied herself with opening the tube so she wouldn’t seem to be watching. That was sweet. Greta slid Drew’s slacks down and put them self-consciously over her lap as she sat.
“Oh, my, you did scrape yourself up.” Mrs. Tremaine knelt in front of her, focusing only on her knees. “And you’re bruised. No wonder you were limping.” She squeezed some white, nice-smelling cream into her hands and rubbed them together. Gardenia. The cream smelled like gardenia. “Now, I’m just going to touch my palms to your knees, dear,” she whispered. There was a look on her face of…of what? Anticipation? Fear? “You…you might feel a little tingling. I hope you feel a little tingling.” She sucked in a huge breath and closed her eyes before she pressed her palms to Greta’s knees.
At first, Greta didn’t feel anything. She glanced around nervously. This was getting more than a little weird. Mrs. Tremaine frowned as though concentrating. Then Greta felt it. Yeah. Tingling. But not a bad sensation. In fact, she felt kind of a warm glow of well-being come over her. She relaxed so quickly she practically slumped into a puddle.
“Oh, that feels great,” she murmured, slurring a little as she closed her eyes. She was breathing deeply, in and out. She didn’t want this to end.
It took her a moment to realize that Mrs. Tremaine had removed her hands. Greta popped her eyes open. Mrs. Tremaine sat back on her heels. There were tears coursing down her face, but she managed a smile. She just pointed.
Greta’s knees were covered with pink, new skin. No scabs, no bruises were in evidence. They didn’t even hurt. “Wow! That’s some stuff.” She reached for the tube on the desk.
Mrs. Tremaine snatched it up and hastily replaced the cap. “It’s…it’s experimental really. Not for the general public. I just got an advance sample. I probably shouldn’t have used it on you. But when I saw you limping…” Words poured out of her.
Greta just stared at her knees. If that cream could do that, it was going to be one hell of a product. “Well, I think we can safely say it works.” Uh-oh. Safely? “I hope it’s been tested enough so we know there aren’t any side effects.”
“Oh, no. No side effects. I’d never use anything on you that wasn’t entirely safe.” The woman tried to contain what was practically a self-satisfied grin.
“Well, I must thank you. I feel great.” She got up and pulled on Drew’s slacks, buckling the narrow belt. “People will kill for that cream when it comes on the market.”
“Yes. That’s always been the problem, hasn’t it?” The woman had gotten a faraway look in her eyes as she stared out the little window behind the desk. She glanced back to Greta. “Still, one has to try, doesn’t one? In spite of all adversity.”
Greta peered at the tube clutched so tightly in the other woman’s hand. She almost thought she recognized the logo design.
“Well, I’m glad I could help,” Mrs. Tremaine said briskly.
Now Greta really was being dismissed. “Thanks so much.” She moved to the door.
“You won’t tell the others about this, will you?”
Greta was surprised. “Of course not, Mrs. Tremaine. Our secret, I promise.”
The smile was out again in all its warm wattage. “Brina, dear. Call me Brina.”
When Greta came back into the kitchen, Jane and Tammy were clustered near the table, their backs to her. Jane was saying in a low voice, “Okay, but you can’t monopolize the conversation, and you can’t breathe a word about…” She turned in surprise that she quickly suppressed. “Greta. Tammy’s just been asking if she could show you her animals, but don’t let her push you into anything.”
Greta felt herself flush. “You don’t have to entertain me. As soon as I get my computer and my books here, I’ll be fine. I’ll stay totally out of your way.”
Jane looked a little surprised again. Greta guessed people were always surprised when actors could actually read. “We have quite a nice library upstairs if you’d like to explore.”
“I like romances,” Tammy said, picking up the black cat that had leaped onto the kitchen counter. “So it even has some books people would want to read.”
“Don’t make assumptions, Tammy,” Jane said. But it wasn’t unkind. “Drew was a history major, so there are lots of history books, too, even some original resources.”
“She means very old, crumbling books they don’t actually want you to touch,” Tammy grumbled. “Plus there are all the weird books on…”
Jane interrupted hastily. “Brina has an interest in the occult. But there are lots of other books up there. What do you usually read?”
Greta shook her head, embarrassed. “It’s all right, really.”
Tammy got a very focused look. “What kind of books did you ask Ernie to bring back?”
Now Greta was really embarrassed. “It doesn’t matter.” She gathered herself together. “I’d love to see your animals,” she said to Tammy.
Tammy didn’t look like she wanted to be deterred from further interrogation. She must be a stubborn thing. But Jane smiled and said, “Off you go then, you two. I’ll finish up here.”
Greta watched Tammy consciously put her questions aside. But the determined look around her jaw said they weren’t gone for long. Well, two could play that game. This might be a chance to pump a member of the family about another random member of the family. Say, the one who wasn’t here right now.
“Okay, then,” Tammy said. “Let’s go down to the stable. Come on, Lance.” The black dog zoomed over to the door.
“What about the other one?” Greta asked, bending down to look under the table where the Rottweiler laid, panting happily.
“Oh, Susie won’t leave Jane. She thinks Jane is going to drop the baby any second, even though she’s really only six months along.” Tammy waved to Jane. She opened the French doors onto the flagstone terrace and headed over to wooden stairs, down to the right. The sound of surf crashing on rocks and the smell of the sea enveloped Greta, as it had last night in the moonlight. The view during the day was breathtaking. Beyond the terrace, lawns sloped down, edged by rose gardens as she had suspected. The pergola turned out to be covered with bougainvillea that stood out against the sea. They were on some kind of a cliff. Catalina Island floated in the distance like a blue dream. To the north, the Santa Monica bay swept around to the Malibu hills. Planes hung in mid-air as they lined up for landing at the L.A. airport. She was used to wealth. But this went beyond wealth. It seemed like heaven.
She glanced around the large bluff, surrounded by water on three sides. It was a lot of land. Only one other house was visible, to the south, built in nearly the same style as the old hacienda behind her, but more modern in its construction.
She hurried to catch up to Tammy. Lance galloped down the stairs ahead of them both. “Does your family own the whole bluff?”
“Yeah, over to that line of eucalyptus north and to the south around the corner,” Tammy threw back over her shoulder, pointing. “And up to the road, of course.”
It was huge. “Who lives in that other house?”
“Drew and Michael. Daddy built it for them.” Her expression darkened. “They stay up at the main house mostly now, though.”
It was funny th
at the whole family had been in the kitchen this morning. Then it dawned on her. She hurried down the stairs after Tammy. “Does your entire family live on the estate?”
Tammy threw a considering look back at her and seemed to answer carefully. “Yeah. Tris and Maggie live over the garages. Kee and Dev have the top floor. It was the old servants’ quarters back when this was a real hacienda. Kee’s studio is up there.” She got to the bottom of the stairs and pointed north to a development of cookie-cutter mansions about a mile north. They rose above the line of eucalyptus that marked the north boundary of the estate. “Kemble and Jane used to have a house over there, but they moved back last year. We’re, uh, close.”
Greta didn’t know what to say. It was sort of like the Kennedy compound at Hyannisport. Or the compound Marlon Brando had built for his family in the Godfather. Lots of security? It started to make sense. This family felt they were under siege. Wow. Maybe they were criminals. Maybe that was what Lanyon was running from.
That revelation surprised her. He was running from something. That was obvious now that she thought about it. What human contact did he have? Well, she didn’t know for sure. But someone whose requirements were that no one touch him didn’t seem like a joiner. Was he running from his family? But they seemed so kind.
She wanted to know more. How did you ask about that?
As they got to the bottom of the stairs, Tammy cleared her throat. “So, uh, Lan must like you a lot to rescue you like that.”
“Hardly. He looked really appalled when he first saw me at the bar at Magma, and he left immediately. Sort of like last night,” she added ruefully.
“Well, you know how guys are,” Tammy said.
“What do you mean?”
Tammy looked abashed. “Oh, just…that way.” She flushed and motioned Greta to the stables. Maybe, sequestered here, Tammy didn’t know much about how guys were at all.
The place had a huge riding ring filled with sand and what looked like little pieces of rubber, as well as a turnout, a barn with four stalls and some wash racks. The stalls were in-and-outs and in them she saw a white horse, a chestnut, a very fat pig and two goats with big, floppy ears. She and Tammy went inside to lean over the door to the far stall.
“This is Caliburn, Cally for short.” The white horse moseyed over to nuzzle Tammy’s palm. “Caliburn is another name for Excalibur, you know. He’s twenty-three, but he still likes to get out and do a little dressage work. He just has to warm up longer. I don’t jump him anymore.” She moved to the next stall where the chestnut horse was already hanging over the stall door. “Guinevere loves to jump. Don’t you, Gwenny?” Tammy stroked the velvet nose. Greta reached up and scratched her white star. The horse had some bad scarring on her haunches. “She’s a rescue.” Tammy moved down to the stall with the pig. “They all are, one way or another. The Emperor here should have been named Houdini. He kept escaping. But what fool would keep a full-grown pig in the backyard? People are so stupid. They get a cute little baby whatever and never think about what will happen when it grows up.” She moved down the line. “Napoleon and Josephine were just abandoned. Poor things. I got them from the shelter only a month ago, but they’re already filling out.” She walked into the stall, and the goats butted at her playfully. “Bad goats,” she protested, catching her balance. “You had your breakfast. And look. You’ve already messed your nice clean stall. I’m not going to clean it more than twice a day, you know.”
The rich girl cleaned stalls herself? “I noticed you don’t have a staff…” Greta said hesitantly.
“Nope.” Tammy’s countenance darkened. “Hired help hasn’t worked out too well for us. Besides, we’re such a big family if everybody does their part we get along fine.”
Greta was becoming an expert in Tammy’s animals, but she hadn’t pried out any information about what she wanted to know. Time for a direct approach. “So Lanyon still lives with the family? Must be kind of hard on a young guy like that.”
Tammy snorted derisively. “Lan shows up only under duress these days. Like when he would feel too guilty if he missed Mom’s birthday.” She shot a sly look at Greta. “Or when he dropped you off.”
“So…will he be back?” That’s pathetic, Greta.
“If he isn’t, he’ll break Mom’s heart. So I hope so. But with Lan there’s no guarantee.”
Greta ran her hand over the rough wood of the stall door as Tammy fondled the goats’ ears. “I guess every family has a black sheep.”
Tammy laughed. “Lan, the black sheep? That was Tris. Lan was the happy-go-lucky practical joker.” She sighed. “Though since the accident…I guess you’re right.”
That was astounding on so many levels, Greta almost didn’t know where to start. She couldn’t imagine the Ghost as happy-go-lucky. “The accident…you mean your father?”
Pain flashed through Tammy’s eyes before she turned back to her goats. “Daddy wasn’t always like he is now.”
A girl who was in her twenties who still called her father Daddy? “You were his special favorite, weren’t you?” Greta asked softly.
Tammy shook her head. “I think he was most partial to Kee. But he was such a good father, he always tried to hide it. He taught me to ride. The day after he learned, he started me on my first pony.”
The day after he learned? Odd way to phrase it.
“When the Enterprises got too time consuming and he couldn’t teach me himself, he got me the best dressage teacher in the world. She doesn’t come out here anymore. Doesn’t matter. Maggie’s a great teacher.”
That raised all sorts of questions. About just how isolated this family was, for instance, that teachers came here instead of Tammy going to their home stable. But she chose to ask about the other issue. “Enterprises? Is that the family business?”
Tammy looked relieved not to be talking about her father. “Yeah. Tremaine Enterprises. It does disaster relief logistics, and manufactures green technology stuff. Tris invented an engine that runs on recycled oil. Michael’s company came into the Enterprises last year, and now it manufactures Tris’s engines instead of guns or whatever it did before. And Devin is almost done with his plan for how to desalinize seawater way cheaper than you can now. The Enterprises will build that equipment, too.” She went quiet again. “Daddy used to run the business, but now Kemble does. Not as good as Daddy did, of course, but that’s okay.”
Didn’t that explain in a nutshell why Kemble wore a tie to breakfast when apparently he just worked at the house? Trying too hard to live up to Daddy? Greta cleared her throat. “What a talented family you have. Kemble runs the family business. Michael is a detective who owns a manufacturing company, the blond brother is an oceanographer, your sister is an artist, and Lanyon is a musician. What does Drew do? From the way she dresses, she could be a fashion designer.”
“Oh, Drew’s into…predictions these days. She helps in the Enterprises.” Tammy looked pleased with herself.
“Oh, like financial forecasting. I wouldn’t have pegged her for the numbers type.”
Tammy’s eyes went hooded. She looked away. “No, you wouldn’t, would you?”
“And you have a talent for animals.” Had Greta said something wrong?
“Not much of a talent,” Tammy said, sourly. “It’s not like I can help the family.”
And that’s what they all were doing, weren’t they? They all lived at the same house, and all worked in the Enterprises. All except black sheep Lan.
“Sometimes talent is about giving the world a special experience. It doesn’t have to be practical. Like Lanyon’s music. It’s…transforming just to hear it.”
Tammy gave her a knowing look, then shrugged. “I just wish he wasn’t in so much pain.”
Greta nodded. She hesitated, but she had to ask. “Is it just about your father’s accident?” Tammy pressed her lips together. Had Greta stepped over some line? “I mean you seem to have a great family. Very loving and all.” Unlike mine. “He’s really lucky in that.”
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Tammy grew thoughtful. “I think it’s more that everything seems so…inevitable with us. You find someone to…marry. And you live at The Breakers and you help with the Enterprises.” Her expression darkened again. “Bad things still happen, too, even if your family loves you.”
Wow. Looked like Lanyon wasn’t the only one affected by the accident that had changed Mr. Tremaine. “Yeah. I can see that.”
Tammy changed the subject purposely. “I bet you have a hobby or something.”
“Not really.” Greta didn’t want to get into that.
“I bet you do,” Tammy insisted.
What was Greta afraid of? She didn’t talk about astronomy around her agent or movie industry types because they’d peg her as an oddball. But what difference did it make if she told this girl, who had nothing to do with the business? She shrugged. “I’m into astronomy.”
“Really!” Tammy looked intrigued. “As in constellations and black holes and stuff?”
Greta nodded sheepishly. “I…I’ve always thought it was fascinating that light came from energy generated across millions of miles to shine down on us years later.” One of the goats came up and nudged her hand. She stroked the soft, flopping ears. “I mean, people are out under the stars all the time and they never even think about what a miracle they are.”
“So…the book you asked Ernie to bring over…is it about stars?”
“It’s a treatise on the formation of galaxies.”
“Fascinating.” Tammy rolled her eyes.
“I know. Weird. I have no idea how I got in so deep. I’ve…I’ve been thinking about applying to graduate school at UCLA in Astronomy.”
“Instead of acting?” Tammy was horrified if her expression was any indication.
Greta gave an apologetic shrug. “Yeah…I mean, I like acting and all, but it’s all I’ve been doing since I was nine when I didn’t have a choice. I’ve worked hard to make sure I did have choices, and astronomy…well, it just called to me.”
Of course no one would sympathize with that. Not fans like Tammy, not her agent. Definitely not her mother. And her father was beyond sympathizing with anything, being dead.
The Magic's in the Music (Magic Series Book 5) Page 11