Seven Books for Seven Lovers

by Molly Harper, Stephanie Haefner, Liora Blake, Gabra Zackman, Andrea Laurence, Colette Auclair

  “Sweetie,” he said to Solstice, “take the blindfold off.”

  “I have to ride with it on. That’s the whole point of this.”

  “No, you don’t, sweetheart.”

  “But I want to. It’s super fun, Dad. It’s like a ride at Six Flags.”

  “Aren’t you scared? Would you rather take it off?”

  “Dad, it’s fun. Get it? F-U-N.”

  Amanda had been watching Grady. He looked at her, clearly annoyed, then looked back at Solstice.

  “Dad, watch me!”

  “I’m watching.”

  “Okay,” Amanda said, and lined Rainy up. Solstice went from walk to trot to canter and took the first jump perfectly. “Come on, Rainy,” Amanda said under her breath. The mare launched over each fence with Solstice beautifully relaxed and balanced. Amanda smiled and sighed.

  Rainy, proud of herself, gave a small buck and threw Solstice to the front of the saddle.

  “Christ!” Grady grabbed the top plank of the fence.

  The girl yelped in surprise, but recovered almost instantly and giggled. She halted Rainy. Solstice took off the blindfold, her huge smile a smaller, feminine replica of Grady’s.

  He said, “That was amazing, sweetie. You’re just like National Velvet.” He paused. “Amanda?”

  Grady shot dead Amanda’s sense of relief. She trudged to him again, a Dickensian orphan trudging to the evil owner of the workhouse.

  His smile was gone and he spoke quietly. “If she falls off, you’re fired. I kept you on because they’re excited about the horse show. But if she falls, I don’t give a damn about the show. You’re fired.”

  She wanted to yell that Solstice had such a strong seat, there was no way she’d fall off from a tiny, celebratory buck. Instead, she said, “Noted. And hey, I’ll try not to have a nervous breakdown today. But if you have a straitjacket handy, you might want to loan it to me.” She went back to her student and refused to look at him.

  “One more time?” Amanda suggested.

  “Yeah!” Solstice went through again, her confidence palpable.

  “That was textbook,” Amanda said. “Great riding, really great job! Jump off and pet her.”

  “That was terrific, sweetie,” he said. “You’re a pro.”

  Amanda saw Solstice smile the smile she reserved for her father, which had been rare at the beginning of the summer but was now commonplace. Her heart bumped for the girl, but not for the father.

  Because she couldn’t stand being there a second more than necessary while Grady was around, Amanda fed the horses dinner thirty minutes early and left for the day. Jacqueline and Solstice would do the night check and call her. She went to The Little Nell and fell onto the sumptuously pillowed brown-and-tan bed for a nap. Ever since Sunday morning, exhaustion dogged her. Sleep was a reliable escape from the sadness that clung to her like a heavy winter horse blanket.

  18

  Monday morning was another cookie-cutter beauty, with deep blue skies, a cool breeze, and hot sun. Although Amanda wasn’t happy about why she was at the luxurious Little Nell, she felt steadier, if not exactly normal. Today she allowed herself a small slice of optimism because Grady and Priscilla were leaving on their tour and she wouldn’t see them for almost two blessed weeks.

  At one o’clock Amanda was on Titanium, on a distant hill that overlooked the driveway. She saw a big, dark car she didn’t recognize, then Grady and Priscilla. Grady took a long look at the barn, and she hoped he was looking for her. He hugged Jacqueline and man-hugged Harris, slapping his back several times. He hugged and kissed Solstice and Wave. He stared at the barn before getting in the limo.

  “Good,” Amanda said. “You better look for me.” But even as she said words that made her sound so strong and confident, hot tears spilled down her cheeks.

  By all accounts, week one of the publicity tour was a rousing success. Talk show hosts couldn’t wait to talk about the engagement. Grady and Priscilla shared lavish suites, but separate bedrooms. They often held hands as they gave interviews in the suites. They dined at romantic restaurants, or went dancing or on some photo-friendly date if they didn’t have a show to do. During the day he’d enhance Priscilla’s starlet image and go shopping with her or even have a spa day, where the media delighted in getting pictures of him in a seaweed mask. They talked, laughed, and kissed in a choreographed dance, and he was such a good actor, nobody could tell he didn’t mean any of it.

  In Colorado, Amanda was practically Amish in her media avoidance. She spent her evenings window shopping on the tony streets of Aspen or in her hotel room reading or watching movies. The silver lining? Estelle had returned to her coven in Northern California.

  Amanda was steadily recovering from their thwarted romance, but every now and then she’d fall victim to an emotional sniper attack. One evening she was walking from her truck to The Little Nell and passed a couple eating ice cream cones. She was reminded of that night in the candlelit ice cream parlor and started to cry. Another time she saw a woman in the lobby holding a bag from the boutique where she’d gotten her red dress. The party dress. The party where everything had been magical. She raced up the stairs to her room, threw herself on her bed, and sobbed. Or sometimes she would allow herself to weep on the drive to work. No two ways about it, she had to be over him by the horse show. Either that, or have her tear ducts removed.

  Although he didn’t love publicity tours, Grady threw himself into it, grateful for something to do instead of obsessing over Amanda. Had he done the right thing? Doubts about that Sunday morning plagued him. Why did this bother him so much? Usually he made a decision and that was that. This decision was not going down peacefully.

  He thought of the project he had given Jacqueline. He called to check on her progress, and his assistant assured him, as only Jacqueline could, that things were going swimmingly. He heard the television in the background and couldn’t resist teasing his exceedingly competent assistant. “Jacqueline, do I hear the television?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would that be some extreme cage fighting, Jacqueline?”

  He heard her laugh. “Yes, that is correct.”

  “You tickle me, Jacqueline. You tickle me.”

  That same morning Grady called Amanda’s cell phone when he knew she’d be teaching, just to hear her outgoing message. Immature? You bet. But it made him feel better and he kept doing it.

  By the twentieth interview, Grady called Amanda when he knew she wasn’t teaching. He wanted to hear her voice live.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi. It’s me. Grady.”

  “Your daughters are both alive. Is that what you wanted to know?”

  He was glad she was spunky instead of sad, but he also wished like hell she was happy to hear from him. Clearly, she wasn’t. “How are you?”

  “I’m great. Couldn’t be better. But I’m kinda busy—I’m doing my own electroshock therapy with the truck battery later—so if you could speed this along, I’d appreciate it.

  He cringed. “I deserve that. Okay. I deserve that. But seriously, how are you?”

  She sighed. “Grady. Really? You really care? Don’t you have other things to do?”

  “Yes, I really care.”

  “I’m fine, okay? I’m great. Have a nice day. I hope the tour is great. Thanks for calling.” She clicked off.

  He called back and the phone went straight to voice mail.

  The next morning Amanda was startled to find two-dozen yellow roses in a vase on her room-service breakfast table. She told the hotel employee who brought breakfast that there’d been a mistake, but the woman pointed out the small envelope with her name and room number on it. After the woman left, Amanda opened the card.

  I’m sorry if I hurt you. G

  “Well, Grady,” she whispered to the card. “I’m sorry, too. But you did.”

  For the remainder of the tour, Grady sent Amanda four more flower arrangements. She tried to give the flowers away with spotty success and thre
w away the sweet cards in the lobby so she couldn’t dig them out of her room’s wastebaskets later.

  On the night of the Deadly Horizon premiere in Los Angeles, Amanda was feeling especially vulnerable. Harris had gone as a guest, so he was unavailable. She called Beth in Florida.

  “Come up for the weekend?” Amanda asked.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. You could help me at the show.”

  “There’s more. I hear it in your voice.”

  Amanda paused. “I would love it if you were here.”

  “How’s Friday?”

  In a sumptuous suite in the Peninsula Hotel in Beverly Hills, Grady lay on his bed and waited for the dinner for two he had ordered. It was Thursday, the night after the premiere, and thankfully he and Priscilla had an early night. Tomorrow they had two morning shows, a charity luncheon, one last round of interviews, dinner with studio muckity-mucks, and then a chartered night flight from LAX to Aspen—against his wishes, but he didn’t want to spend three hours in a car at night on I-70 after being away for two weeks. In approximately twenty-four hours he would see Amanda again. She hadn’t responded to his flowers, and her silence only fed his determination to get back on her good side.

  Fifteen minutes later Grady plundered his cheesecake and Priscilla pushed several arugula leaves around on her plate as though they weren’t actually edible.

  “Grady?”

  He looked at her. “Priscilla?”

  “I’ve had a lot of fun on this tour. Haven’t you?”

  “As these things go, it was above average, yes. It was fun to hang with you.” He pointed at her plate with his fork. “Is that all you’re eating? Or not eating? There are starving rabbits who would kill for that.”

  “Have to watch my girlish figure.” She wore a tank top and short skirt that displayed her size-zero girlish figure in all its glory.

  “Please.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like to be a woman in this town.”

  “True. But you look terrific.” He ferried a largish bite of cheesecake into his mouth.

  “You really think so?” she asked, and he looked at her to see if she was kidding. She wasn’t.

  “Absolutely. You look better than ever.”

  The actress smiled and was quiet for a few moments. “It makes me happy to hear you say that. Because I’ve been thinking about how well we’ve been getting along. Don’t you agree?”

  Grady shrugged. “Why wouldn’t we?”

  “It brought back some memories.”

  Oh, shit. He straightened in his chair. “Priscilla.” It was a warning.

  “I miss you. This tour has made me realize just how much.”

  “That’s the arugula talking. I annoy the hell out of you, remember?”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Priscilla Mason. You’re not suggesting anything ridiculous, are you?”

  “You said yourself you’ve had fun with me.”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t mean—” He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.

  “We’re good together.” She put her elbows on the table and cradled her delicate chin in her pretty hands.

  “We’re not! Oh, yeah, for two weeks when we’re pretending to be engaged, sure. But we’re acting. We’re actors.”

  “I wasn’t acting. We are good together.”

  “On this tour. But when we’re really together? No.”

  “So we argued once in a while—we were passionate. But the rest of the time . . . ” She smiled and gave him the look that used to make oxygen leave his brain. Used to.

  “Yes, we were great in two places—on the set or in bed. The rest of the time we wanted to skin each other alive.” He sipped his coffee.

  “I’m seeing a psychiatrist.”

  He almost dropped the cup.

  “I was the problem. I’ve changed; I really have. I meditate, I do yoga, tai chi, autogenic training, biofeedback, laughter yoga—you name it. I’m Zen. I’m calm. I’m practically low maintenance.”

  He laughed. “No actress is low maintenance. Anyway, you weren’t the problem. We were the problem.”

  “No, it was me.” She paused, sincerity blazing out of her blue eyes. “How about we try again? With the new me. I won’t mind Aspen; I’ll get used to being out in the country. I’ll ride if you want. I can teach your girls how to use makeup.”

  Grady felt his mouth drop open. He could smell her perfume, which he knew was French, over the vinaigrette dressing. “I think it’s terrific you’re doing all that, but you have to do it for you. Not for me or anyone else.”

  “Are you saying you don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

  “Like I told you in the meadow, I’m attracted to you. That’s not the same as wanting to be in a relationship.” He said this to spare her ego. After kissing Amanda, resisting Priscilla was easy. And even now, she probably didn’t know his kids’ names.

  “It’ll be different this time. I promise.”

  She looked so earnest, he felt awful. “Priscilla. I like you, and if we could have a relationship where it was sex, work, and nothing else, we’d be great. But that’s not reality. You know I’m right.” He sighed and looked out the window at the lights of Beverly Hills, then at her. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  “Come to bed with me.”

  Grady raised his hands. “It would only complicate things. You’re my friend. If we slept together . . .”

  19

  Just tonight. For old times’ sake. I’ll never ask again.”

  Grady closed his eyes. Opened them. Sighed. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  “You said yourself we were great in bed. One night. Please. Please, Grady. I’m begging you.”

  “I’m so sorry. Don’t do this.”

  Priscilla shot up from her chair and crossed to him. She grabbed his face between her hands, lowered her head, and kissed him hard. “You’re telling me no? You’re refusing me? Do you know how many men I turn down, and you’re saying no?”

  “You’ve always known I’m an idiot.”

  She let go of his face and took a step back.

  “Is it Amanda?”

  Grady felt like she’d walloped him in the solar plexus. Seconds sauntered by before he could form a reply. “She has nothing to do with this.”

  “As your friend, I’d appreciate it if you’d answer me truthfully.”

  “Truthfully, I don’t know what’s going on there, if anything.”

  “But you’d like something to go on.”

  Grady held her gaze and nodded almost imperceptibly.

  Priscilla’s smooth forehead crumpled and her lush lips trembled as she spoke. “I can’t blame you. I like her. Promise you’ll call if it doesn’t work out.”

  Grady stood. “C’mere.” She stepped into his arms. “Priscilla Mason, you are a gem. And you’re going to find some lucky guy who’s perfect for you. You know as well as I do that you and I aren’t meant to be. But you’re beautiful and talented and kind and smart and sexy as hell, and you’re going to find a great guy who appreciates you and loves you. I love you and I’m glad you’re my friend.” He firmly kissed the top of her head. “Now get some sleep. We have to charm the masses at some ungodly hour tomorrow.”

  The diminutive, porcelain-skinned starlet looked up at him, her wide blue eyes swimming. “I love you. I can’t help it. But don’t worry; you don’t have to lock your door. I just hope Amanda realizes how lucky she is. Call me if you change your mind or she isn’t all you thought she’d be. You know those couples that don’t work out because it’s hard for people who aren’t in our business to understand it. I know what it’s like. I can help you more than she ever could. Remember that.”

  Priscilla rose on tiptoe and kissed him softly on the mouth. She gave him a tremulous smile, then turned and glided across the suite and into her bedroom.

  Grady poured himself a half glass of the pricey wine and drank it all, likely causing several generations of dedicated vintners to ro
ll in their graves. He was doing the right thing, but, damn, he hated to make Priscilla cry. Hell, he hated to make anyone cry, which no doubt had contributed to his reluctance to discipline his tear-prone children. While they were shooting Deadly Horizon, Priscilla had been like a drug and he was a junkie—she was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough of her. What a difference a year and a half made. Or a certain Olympic-caliber jumper rider whose company he hoped to be keeping soon. Amanda was driving him mad with her silence. One more day . . .

  When Beth Fanelli arrived at the barn on Friday afternoon, Amanda caught her in a huge bear hug. She then gave her the barn tour, introduced her to Wave, Solstice, Harris, and Jacqueline, then took her for a trail ride on Smooch while she rode Vern.

  “So what’s going on?” Beth asked as their horses walked side by side. Beth looked at her with clear gray eyes that seemed to see everything. Her sleek, chin-length blond hair gleamed in the strong Colorado sun and at five foot two, she looked good on Smooch, who was the smaller of the two quarter horses.

  “At the horse show I need you to be my wingman. Woman. Person.”

  “Because?”

  “In a word? Grady.”

  “I knew there was something going on with him!” Her eyes were sparkling far too brightly for Amanda’s taste.

  Amanda sighed and described the highlight reel of their relationship, from the bisque in bed to Bramble’s colic to the kiss to Grady’s distrust.

  “Oh, he’ll get over that trust issue when he remembers all the good you’ve done with the girls. So what’s the problem?” Beth asked. “You obviously are hot for each other.”

  “I can’t want him. In case you forgot, I don’t have a job—I don’t have time to chase after Grady Brunswick or anyone else. Besides, he’s only interested because I didn’t jump into bed with him.”