Peter did not step away or release her, so Alice repeated, “CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT!” and pulled away from him, although he still held her with his gaze.
“You’re quite the actress, Alice,” he said, dropping his voice so only she could hear.
Her heart racing and breathing ragged, heat flooding through her, burning her face, she stormed off the set and straight to Peacock. “Why the hell didn’t you call cut? Why didn’t you call out stage direction?”
“I thought what you improvised was perfect.”
“This was not in the script!” When Peter’s footsteps stopped behind her, she spun around on him. “Mr. Walsingham, it is obvious you cannot take direction, but you have to stay on script.”
“I didn’t change any lines.”
“You know what I mean. A stroke on the cheek after your last line – that’s it! Tristan is not supposed to kiss Sienna for two more episodes.”
“But he didn’t kiss her.”
“Well, that was too damn close. I don’t want to see that on camera.”
“My apologies, Miss McGillicutty,” he called after her as she rushed to the safe haven of her office. “I promise, Tristan won’t do it again.”
She closed her door and leaned against it, craving butterscotch schnapps.
CHAPTER 4
The Edge of Darkness
Chapter 10
I didn’t cry for Molly when he was killed in a car accident; I cried for his family. I hadn’t seen Anthony since his high school graduation. Then he had gone off to Harvard. His father lived just long enough to see him pass the bar exam.
Tony, as he preferred to be called now, moved in with us right after Annette and I graduated from high school. He had been taken on at a law firm in the area and needed a place to stay while he figured out where he wanted to live. He was tall – six two – with light brown curly hair and big blue eyes. I was scared to death of him. I barely spoke to him until two weeks after Molly’s funeral, and then just to say hi. I didn’t feel like his sister, and I’m sure he did not feel like my brother. Even he and Annette didn’t act like brother and sister – nothing like Tad and I.
Annette left a month after the funeral for Radcliffe to get settled in before the semester started, and I was relieved. She and I had tried to keep our distance throughout high school, but we never could get along after Mother legally adopted me.
I hadn’t decided what I wanted to do now. My grades were good, and I considered college, but I still thought I wanted to try it as an actress.
I wanted to be closer to Tony, especially since his father had just died and his own sister, or our sister, had gone. I was just so frightened of him. Something about him scared yet intrigued me. When he occasionally joined Mother and me for dinner, I never could think of anything to say.
Molly’s death had left Mother terribly distraught. I suppose, in spite of her male houseguests, she never stopped loving him. The next thing I knew, her friends had packed her up for New York, and she had a ticket on the QE2. Once she had gone, I rarely saw Tony at all, which was fine with me. He worked and stayed at his end of the hall while I hung out with my friends and stayed in my room.
Ben from high school called me one day. I hadn’t seen him since he had graduated two years before, but I still remembered he was a good kisser. He was home from college and looked me up. Ben picked me up at two, and we went to a movie. I enjoyed having his arm around me again as we watched the film. Then we went to his parents’ house for dinner as we had so many times before, and it was as if we hadn’t been apart for two years.
I sat close to him in the car on the way back home as the radio played softly. He had his arm around me, and we kissed at each stop sign. Then he detoured off to park by a lake and turned off the engine, leaving the radio on. Ben turned to me and wrapped me in his arms. We started kissing and lay down. After a while, the steering wheel got in the way, so we moved to the backseat.
It felt so good having him on top of me, kissing me. He kissed my neck as his hand traveled up and down my leg. His lips ran over my breasts through my blouse. I felt strange all over. He lifted me to kiss me harder and used his hand to hold my mouth in place. He kissed my neck and then my breasts and smothered himself between them.
He kissed me hard again and then just held me. “I love the way you feel,” he whispered. I started unbuttoning my blouse. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
Ben kissed my breasts and pushed his nose into my bra. “Am I crushing you?” he asked between embraces.
“No,” I whispered, out of breath.
“Would you like to crush me?” He pressed his lips against mine. “Do you want to get on top? I want to see if I can hold you just as tight,” he kissed me, “feel you just as much,” he kissed me, “and kiss you just as hard.”
We rolled over. “Oh, I can feel you much better this way.” He moved his hand up and down my leg, going higher each time and hiking up my skirt.
“I like it better the other way,” I said.
When we switched again, he became more aggressive. Then I realized our position and jerked my legs together. “It was just beginning to get fun,” he said and resumed kissing me.
The radio announced it was ten-thirty. “I better get you home,” he whispered and pulled me up but didn’t stop kissing me. Then I buttoned my blouse, we got in the front seat, and he drove me home.
Back at the house, I knocked on Tony’s door. “Yeah!” he yelled through the door.
I stuck my head in his room. “I’m home, and I’m going to bed.”
He was reading in bed. “All right. Good night.”
“Good night.” I closed the door, and Ben and I slinked to my bedroom.
We were stretched out on my bed and had gotten about as far as we had in the car, with my blouse unbuttoned and him on top of me, but this time I didn’t pull my legs together.
My locked door burst open and splintered, and Tony flew in like a raving maniac. “You get your ass the fuck out of here!”
Ben jumped off of me and the bed, and I sat up with my shirt opened. I stared at Tony as Ben disappeared. Then Tony and I shared a moment of eye contact before he walked out, closing the door behind him.
“You aren’t going out again until Mother comes back.”
“But that’s not fair! She might not be back for weeks!”
“I don’t give a fuck what’s fair! After last night, you’re lucky I don’t send her a telegram right now.”
“I don’t know why it matters to you anyway. I’m eighteen. Why do you even care?” He didn’t say anything. “Are you going to tell her?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He stormed out of the room.
I hated him. He was trying to ruin my life. Why did he hate me so much?
A few nights later, I was in my room talking to Ben on the phone when I heard a car drive up, and I looked out my window. Tony was walking toward the house with a well-built blond.
“He is such a hypocrite,” I complained to Ben. “Sure – ‘Do as I say, not as I do.’ I hate him!”
After we hung up, I was reading when the doorbell rang. I thought it was kind of late for someone to drop by unannounced, but I knew I better answer it since Tony was “entertaining.” I pulled on my robe and went to the door.
When I opened it, two Marines were standing there. They said something, but I didn’t hear. First I was numb and silent, staring at them, and then I was screaming. In a flash, Tony was there. I was still screaming – I couldn’t stop – and he grabbed me and hugged me against his bare chest. I was shaking violently with tears streaming down my face. He and the Marines spoke a few minutes, then he closed the door, and I clung to him and cried as he kissed the top of my head.
All of the screaming had made me weak, and he had to support me as we walked toward the stairs. Then I just collapsed in his arms, and he picked me up and carried me up to my room and laid me on the bed. He sat next to me and caressed my ha
nds and face with an empathetic look on his face and so much sadness in his eyes. He tried to brush away my tears, but they were coming too fast and too strong. He kissed my hand. “I’ll be right back.”
His girlfriend had gotten out of bed and was standing in the hall. “You better go home. I’ll call you a cab,” he told her. “My brother’s body was just found in Vietnam, and I need to take care of my sister.”
After that, I barely noticed their whispers in the hallway. When Tony came back, he kissed me on the forehead. “Try to go to sleep,” he said, looking into my eyes.
I felt like a little girl again, taken captive by sudden trauma and seeking refuge in a warm heart. He was good to me. He was being a brother, I thought. I licked my lips, and they tasted salty from Tony’s perspiration. Even in the midst of my sorrow, I knew it was the sweat from his lovemaking, which my screams had interrupted.
When I awoke the next morning, I rolled over and found Tony sitting in the chair next to the window staring at me. “Good morning,” he said softly. The sunlight was shining through between the curtains and lit his face, and he smiled with the sweetness of a cherub. “Did you sleep well?”
“I don’t know. I was sleeping,” I said, then thought how stupid it sounded. Suddenly I remembered, and I burst into tears.
Tony came and sat on the bed next to me and cradled me in his arms. “Shhhh, baby. It’s all right.” But we both knew it wasn’t.
His hands supported my head as I sobbed on his shoulder. He rocked me in his arms and tried to quiet me, then he leaned back just enough to wipe away my tears. He kissed my forehead and placed kisses on my cheeks. I don’t think either of us realized what was happening until it had already happened, but Tony gently placed a kiss on my lips. He looked into my eyes and then kissed me again.
The kisses were not passionate but so very tender and sweet. He laid me back on my pillow and stared deeply into my eyes as he brushed his fingers over my hair. Then we started kissing again, and I realized I was no longer crying and my sobs were somewhat stifled. I lifted my hands up to his shoulders and held him while we kissed, more loving than sensual.
Then Tony sat up and caressed my cheek. “Are you ready to get up now?” I nodded, and he helped me out of bed. “Go wash your face and come down, and we’ll have breakfast.”
As he walked out of my room, an overwhelming amount of guilt came over me. The news of Tad’s death had only come the night before, and here I was kissing Tony. Was I trying to replace him in my heart?
Tony stood from the table as I walked into the kitchen. “Lexie, I want to apologize for…for what happened upstairs. I took advantage of your grief and tried to relieve my own through you.”
I slumped in a chair beside him. “I’m sorry. Here you have just lost your father, and I’m putting another burden on you.”
“It’s a burden I willingly accept.” We sat quietly for a while, lost in our own thoughts and misery. “Lexie, let’s start over. Let’s put our sorrow behind us and just focus on the future.”
“But that’s so hard to do. It’s virtually impossible for me. Tad was my brother. I can’t just ignore this loss I feel.”
“You can if you try.”
“You don’t understand.”
“But I do. I do perfectly. I know how close you and Tad were after your parents were killed, but my father and I were a team. I worshipped him. I’ve had a few weeks to come to this realization, but even though we will never have them in our lives again, we will never lose the memories.”
“I know he was missing in action, but I never let myself believe it. His death was so sudden.”
“And my father’s murder wasn’t?”
“Murder? I thought he died in a car accident.”
“Didn’t Mother tell you?”
“No.”
“My father was trying to get a bill passed that would increase the oversight on some union activity to keep organized crime out of it. He died on his way to the vote. They’ve kept it out of the press while they investigate, but his car had been tampered with. His brake line had been frayed.”
“I…I don’t know what to say. I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I wish there were something I could do.”
After a moment of solemn silence, he looked at me and said, “There is. Join me. Join me in my efforts against this grief. It will only control our lives if we allow it to.”
I looked at him and realized how much pain he had in his eyes. “I will try. That’s as much as I can promise.”
*****
After her debut as an understudy, avoiding Peter on the set had proven easier than Alice anticipated. In fact, Alice would have had a difficult time getting to Peter through the throng of admirers. In addition to Mrs. Jellyby and the string of gophers, make-up girls, and catering staff seeing to his every need, Winnie Johnson spent as much time on the set of All My Tomorrows as she did her own show in the neighboring soundstage. The only time Alice had any contact with him at all occurred when he sought her out in her office, which he had been doing with increasing frequency, to provide his input on her script based on his “character study” of Tristan.
“I wonder if the summer hiatus means Winnie will spend more time here or less. When does she film COD?” Alice asked Eileen as they stood smirking at Peter surrounded by his harem. He smiled his thanks to a girl handing him a cup of tea, and she turned red and practically melted at his feet as Winnie looked on with arms folded across her chest and disgust on her face.
“It’s different on a weekly series. Peter said he was impressed by how hard everyone works here and the fast pace.”
“Oh, don’t tell me he’s hooked you, too.”
“No, of course not,” Eileen said, “but he’s not as bad as you think.”
“I know he is a serial womanizer who thinks he is too good for all this. And you didn’t see how he made a fool of me when I stood in for Giselle. Constantly coming into my office to discuss ‘Tristan’s motivation,’ as if he gives a damn. This is like summer stock to him. Do you think he takes any of this seriously?”
“Maybe not at first, but I think he does now. He was so upset with Peacock the other day when he wouldn’t let him have a retake because Peter knew he could ‘do it better.’”
Their laughter drew Peter’s attention, and when their eyes met, Alice feared she had become as red as the young girl. She turned away.
“I have to admit he has wanted to discuss Tristan’s character with me a lot for someone who thinks the role is beneath him.”
“He does seem to be in your office a lot.”
“Yes, but usually only to find fault – in the plot, in the dialog, with me in general. Of course, he might just be seeking refuge in my office. Even he might want to get away from his groupies on occasion. But he is still a misogynist. And he destroyed his marriage to ‘America’s Sweetheart’ to be with Skinny Winnie.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Then why didn’t they deny it when the paparazzi found them holed up at his mountain retreat?”
“I thought you didn’t read the tabloids!”
“I don’t, but they’re kind of hard to avoid when the headlines are screaming at you in the checkout line.”
“Well, they may have had an affair then,” Eileen said, “but I don’t think there is any affection between them now – at least not on his part. He seems almost as annoyed by her coming here as you do. And he was willing to go through a lot to get away from her.”
“Oh, yes, the horror of daytime television.” They laughed again, and again he turned his attention from an animated Mrs. Jellyby to them. “I think he knows we’re laughing at him,” Alice said as he held her gaze. Then she focused past him to where Giselle sat in close conversation with Jack Hartz, who had turned out to be Peter’s agent.
“Look at those two.”
Eileen followed her line of sight. “Talk about star-struck. Jack follows her around like a lovesick puppy.”
“He’s lucky she hasn�
�t fallen head over heels for Peter like all the other females here.”
“Yeah, that’s one co-star Peter’s unlikely to get into bed.”
“And she’s the only one having love scenes with him. A shame if he has this reputation as such a ladies’ man and it turns out he’s a terrible kisser.”
This time when they laughed, Peter got out of his chair and had come to stand in front of them before Alice even realized he was walking toward them.
“I don’t know what’s going on over here, but it is clearly more entertaining than anything being said over there.”
“Don’t tell me you’re bored with your groupies,” Alice said with a grin. “Perhaps we could have a new batch flown in.”
He kept his eyes on her and tapped his finger on his chin as if seriously considering it. “Mmm…I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Alice wanted to think of a witty reply but still hadn’t come up with anything when Giselle walked up to them with Jack just behind.
“Alice, Jack is having a get-together Saturday afternoon,” Giselle said. “We wanted to see if you and Eileen could come.”
“I can’t,” Eileen said. “I’m going to my mother’s for the weekend.”
“How ‘bout you?” Jack asked Alice.
“I-uh-a party?”
“Just a few friends over, hang out by the pool, fire up the pizza oven.”
“I’ll be there,” Peter added.
Alice returned her attention from Jack to Peter. “Do you mean to deter me, Mr. Walsingham?”
“I certainly hope not, Miss McGillicutty.”
She smiled but took a step back and prayed she wasn’t blushing. Does he have to look at me – with his eyes? “I’ll have to let you know. I need to figure out where to send Tristan in July.”
Alice walked back to her office with Giselle quick on her heels. “Alice, please come on Saturday. I don’t want to go by myself.”
The Proud and the Prejudiced: A Modern Twist on Pride and Prejudice Page 4