Jessica tried to analyze her feelings about Dane but was thwarted each time by the sheer pain of remembering his touch. He had left a bookmark in her life story and hadn’t bothered to retrieve it. Alone and grief stricken, she recalled the warning he’d voiced before taking her to his bed. Did this, then, relieve him of all responsibility? Was it her own fault? She saw his face before her nightly, sometimes through tear-swollen eyes that searched for some solace and found only sorrow.
And she was making a major motion picture with this man.
She dreaded the day when she’d be forced to face him again, for a meeting, a rehearsal, an on-camera scene. And yet she ached, ached for his touch, his intimate, teasing eyes that could caress her sensually from across a room.
Jessica felt anger, too; anger at Dane and at herself. Despite his "major disclaimer," he had known Jessica didn’t believe him; known that she cared deeply and that such disclaimers were worthless against her dangerous heart.
~ * ~
"Let’s have a party," Roxie announced. "Come on, it’ll do us good. We’ll have it here, it’ll be great fun."
Jessica wrinkled her nose.
"Look Jess, you can’t mourn this guy forever. It was fun, wasn’t it? But these days, you have to move on. I know that, Dane knows that, and you should know it, too. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you, I’m sure he does. But the man has commitments up the kazoo. So knock it off, and let’s do this party, okay?" Roxie put her arm around her friend.
"I’m not up to it, Rox¾ you’d do all the work and it wouldn’t be fair." Her face was burning, Roxie’s words having refueled her pain.
"So what? We need to have some fun. I’m sure Zach has some friends who could liven things up."
Jessica would not admit it, but she didn’t really care for Zachary Slade, and suspected Roxie wasn’t truly enamored with him either but loved the excitement of dating a star.
After tremendous prodding, Jessica finally conceded. They would get a tree and trim it at the party, heat the spa and make merry. It sounded okay, just as long as she didn’t have to act happy or talk to anyone, especially any men.
The afternoon before the party, Jessica bemoaned the fact that she had nothing to wear and the house wasn’t clean enough.
She didn’t feel like dressing up but went through the motions with her hair and make-up anyway. Finally, she put on simple white jeans and a green and white V-necked sweater.
Roxie sighed. "I wish you would cheer up. You know, I almost hope that piece of rancid meat shows up so I can give him what for." She adjusted her red Angora sweater over her black crepe slacks. "You look great, Jess. You only need a little...of this!" Tossing a pinch of glitter into Jessica’s hair, Roxanne gave chase as the two ran through the house, laughing and throwing tinsel and ribbons at each other until they were out of breath.
At around eight o’clock, Zachary arrived with three or four people, toting in cases of eggnog and champagne. Jessica busied herself with a recipe for wassail while Roxie organized the guests, the drinks, the music and answered the door every few minutes. It seemed to Jessica that there were a hundred people in her small house, spilling out onto the balcony, the bedroom, the pool area. It also seemed to be taking hours for the wassail to heat up. Roxie kept asking her help in mixing drinks, and she sampled here and there to make sure she wasn’t killing anyone. The alcohol warmed her, even if the kitchen seemed to stay cold.
Frustrated with being stuck at the stove, Jessica gingerly touched the side of the large pot filled with cider, and finding it cold, leaned down to check the flame, which had gone out.
"Damn," she murmured.
"Probably would help to light a fire under it," a male voice suggested from just behind her. Exasperated, she whirled around, ready to punch out the face behind the voice. Instead, she stopped short and stared into warm, brown eyes that were sincerely offering to help.
He was standing close, too close for a stranger, but with six people in a kitchen designed for two, there wasn’t much choice. Jessie backed closer to the stove to put some room between them and to give herself a better look at him. He was tall, maybe even taller than Dane, and wearing jeans, Nikes a ski sweater, and he had her box of kitchen matches in his hand. Without further ado, he leaned across and lit the errant stove burner, starting the wassail back on its way.
"Thanks¾ I don’t know what made it go out," Jessica offered shyly.
"Probably that cold blast every time they open the door. Should I put this in here?" He showed her a bag and motioned to the refrigerator.
"Sure¾ if there’s room." She helped him force more cans into the already full refrigerator, then turned to face him. "I’m Jessica. Have we met?" Her question was lost, however, as rock music suddenly exploded from the speakers in the living room. She motioned to the balcony, currently unoccupied, and he followed. Once outside, she closed the sliding door most of the way. Braving the cold was better than competing with the noise inside.
"Much better," he commented, leaning slightly over the rail to take in the view. "I like this. Lived here long?"
"No, as a matter of fact, I’m renting it. My lease is up in February, and I don’t know if I’ll be staying or not." He nodded, and Jessica reviewed his profile; he had a strong jaw, and firm, expressive lips.
She continued to stare, knowing she knew this handsome guy from somewhere. His hair was light brown, not unlike her own, with blonde highlights picked up by the patio lights. He had kind eyes and an easy smile.
"We’ve met, haven’t we?" she asked again, frowning at her failure to remember as he nodded. "You aren’t insured by Costello, are you?"
He chuckled. "No, all my insurance is through SAG."
"You’re in the business then?"
"Yeah," he said, still smiling at her. "Could it have been…an audition?"
Jessica puzzled. She’d been on so few.
"You had your hair…" he began, pointing to his ear and making a swirling motion.
"Oh my God, you’re the guy from Castle!" She covered her mouth for a moment in surprise, then held out her hand. "I’m Jessica Taylor. I’m sorry, I have a terrible memory for names."
"Cory MacKendall." He shook her hand warmly.
Jessica was again astonished. This was a name she did remember. Cory MacKendall, the television star. Teddy had been right.
"You’re Doctor Jim…"
"And you’re Mariah Sinclair."
Jessica felt herself blushing. "You’re well informed."
"Oh, I pick up Variety once in awhile." He turned and looked back toward the party, and Jessica suddenly wondered if she was keeping him from a date inside.
"You probably want to get back to your friends," she said, motioning to the crowded house.
"Actually, I was just walking down the street and this crowd of people swept up behind me and here I am. No offense, but big parties intimidate me. I prefer more intimate groups, limited to maybe fifty or sixty?"
This comment made her laugh, which in turn caused him to smile, now revealing two long dimples that perfectly framed his sensitive lips.
"But you certainly have friends in there…?"
"A handful at the most." Jessica replied. "Tell you what, let’s check on that cider, then I’ll show you ‘the grounds’."
"Sounds good."
She walked him through the bedroom and French doors to the path leading down to the pool and spa, which was on ground lower than the house and around a hundred feet away. Halfway down, an old garden glider sat to one side of the path, and they paused to sit and watch the revelers stewing in the Jacuzzi below.
"This your pool?"
"Well, the landlord owns all this land. They live across the arroyo. Do you live around here, Cory?"
"Please, call me Mac. Not far, in Laurel Canyon. I bought what you might call a ‘time-honored’ estate last year, and I’m just getting around to having it renovated now. What a job. So much has to be replaced, I’m beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t just s
tart over with raw land."
"You…live alone?"
"Yeah…you?" he returned, and she nodded. His eyes reflected the pool lights as he turned his gaze back to the partiers. "You hang around with Slade’s crowd much?"
"No. Not at all. They’re…not my type."
He smiled. "They’re not my type either. I actually came with Bill Campbell." His eyes were now busy looking at her hair, and she became immediately self-conscious. "Did you know you’ve been decorated?" His fingers picked a thin piece of silver tinsel from her hair.
Jessica giggled, then pressed her lips together tightly. She wasn’t supposed to be having fun.
"How do you know Bill? He was ‘Slackjaw’ in Bellerive."
"He’s ‘Chance’ in Doctor Jim. He’s a good friend."
Jessica was about to expound on that happy coincidence when Roxie appeared, chastising her for delaying the tree-trimming. With an apologetic smile, Jessica reluctantly led Mac to follow Roxie up the hill to join the others in the living room.
~ * ~
"All things considered, it was a pretty good party," Jessica admitted, smiling at Roxie as they sat down, exhausted, before their beautifully decorated tree.
"You didn’t talk to any men, did you Jess?"
Jessica smiled again. "Actually, everyone was quite nice. I had a good time. Thanks for doing this."
"I’m glad you finally got the chance to remember that all men are not as stuck on themselves as Mr. Dane Pierce." The words stung, but Roxie’s point was well taken, and Jessica loved her friend all the more for saying it.
~ * ~
A week passed and Jessica was suddenly busy with pre-production costume fittings and early rehearsals. She was assigned a coach and she met with him daily to polish what she considered to be her meager skills.
But today was set-aside for Christmas shopping, and having so little time, she walked the mall until her legs were useless. Once home, she collapsed amid her packages on the bed.
From the corner of her eye she could see the answering machine blinking, and she dreaded another fitting or meeting or some such time gobbler. With a sigh, she reached to press the button and lay back to listen.
"This is your mother; why can’t you come to Seattle for Christmas?" Beep.
"Hi it’s Jackie; are you sure you can’t get me a part in Lost Season?" Beep.
"Hi Jessie, it’s Mac MacKendall…I hope you don’t mind, I got your number from Bill…" Jessica sat up and listened closely. "There’s this premiere tomorrow night for Harrison Ford’s new film, with a party afterward, and I thought you might like to go, unless of course you’re having a few hundred people over or something…" Jessie giggled to herself, then immediately reached for the phone to return the call.
She sat with the phone in her lap, suddenly struggling with her emotions. Maybe she shouldn’t call him. Maybe she was just getting herself into another situation. She sighed, remembering Mac’s soft brown eyes and easy, non-threatening manner; maybe she was just being hysterical. She lifted the receiver and dialed.
~ * ~
Harrison Ford’s new film turned out to be a winner.
Watching it in the darkened theater with Mac, Jessica relaxed and played back, in her mind, the luscious scene that took place upon their arrival at the theater; the fans, the flashes, the reporters, and she on the arm of Cory MacKendall.
"I loved the film!" she exclaimed as they drove to the party, held at the prestigious Oaks Country Club. Mac agreed as he parked the black BMW 850i himself and helped her out.
"Sorry, I have this thing about other people parking my car," he apologized.
"I’m with you," she smiled. Photographers swarmed around them at the door.
"You don’t have to talk to them, you know," he told her as they entered and reporters seemed everywhere.
"Okay." She was grateful for the advice; she was not quite ready to give up her privacy yet.
The room was filled with glitzy, beautiful people, and Jessica’s head swam with the ambiance. It was easy, actually comfortable, being with Mac. He was warm, witty and unpretentious. They walked freely among other stars and celebrities, and the impact of her new career was overwhelming. It was obvious that Mac, too, enjoyed himself, finding Jessica’s fresh outlook entertaining and her enthusiasm amusing. She whispered and giggled, sharing her abstract thoughts and impressions of everyone they encountered.
Unconsciously, her grip on his arm tightened as her eyes lit on Dane Pierce, standing not ten feet in front of them. Although the possibility of his appearance had crossed her mind, she wasn’t prepared for the intensity of her own reaction to seeing him again, especially in the company of another woman. If Mac noticed her tension, he did not show it, boldly marching her right up to Dane, who had attended the party with Merrily Mitchell.
"Jessica, how nice to see you again," Dane said cordially, reaching for her hand. Jessica nodded, but she kept both hands wrapped securely around Mac’s arm. Mac, however, extended his hand.
"Pierce, I hear you’re turning out some pretty good stuff these days. How do you keep it up?"
"I’d say six seasons on the network is keeping it up fairly well yourself, MacKendall."
"Well, I think the trick is that you have to reserve time for R & R, you know what I mean?"
Oh, he knows what you mean, Mac, thought Jessica, now boldly staring at Dane.
"I guess you must be doing something right, you have my leading lady welded to your arm there, pal." Dane’s green eyes flashed a brief, knowing look at Jessica. "So what do you do for R & R?" Dane asked.
"I run, I ski, I fly. As a matter of fact, Jess and I are flying to Santa Barbara tomorrow for lunch," Mac said coolly, then quickly turned to Jessica. "What did you say you wanted to drink?"
"Uh…Sprite, please," she managed, her thoughts a terrified jumble of Who’s-flying-where? and Don’t-you-dare-leave-me-alone-with-him! Her eyes pleaded, but Mac did leave, and Dane smiled down at her.
"Not welded, after all," he mused. Then, "MacKendall seems like a nice guy. I was going to ask you to attend the Bellerive premiere with me, but now I guess you’re already spoken for."
Jessica nodded, burning inside. "Do we have a premiere date?" she asked icily.
"A couple of weeks; New Year’s Eve, as a matter of fact." His eyes became serious for the first time and he lowered his voice. "Jess--I’m going through hell. I really want to see you…"
Jessica held up her hand. "Save it, Dane. Give me a call…or better yet, just send Peter around," she said, in a voice that could have frozen boiling water. She kept her gaze steady, watching the green eyes for some sign of remorse…and saw it. Her rebuff had hurt him. Oh no…the eyes and the lips again…She felt the heat, her heart beginning to hammer in her ears…
"Here you are, babe…Sprite--with a twist." It was Mac, dear, smooth, Mac, gently pressing the cold glass into her hand and bringing her back to the here and now. She turned to him and caught a barely perceptible wink as he slipped his hand around her waist. "Come on, I want to introduce you to Harrison Ford. See ya ‘round, Pierce."
~ * ~
She didn’t hesitate to invite him in. Still high from the evening, she wasn’t ready to say good-night.
"Well…okay," he consented, almost hesitant.
"It was a great party, wasn’t it? All those incredible people! The atmosphere was so…electric." She moved around the living room in an excited, animated fashion, switching on lights and removing her coat. Mac sat down and watched her in amusement.
"Get used to it, Jessica. It’ll soon become a way of life. And you probably won’t always love it."
She smiled at him appreciatively. He was as solid as a rock, and she felt enormous comfort in his presence.
"I’m sorry, would you like a glass of wine or something?" she asked.
"No booze tonight, but thank you. I’m flying tomorrow." Mac paused, wetting his lips, then smiled indulgently. "About which, by the way, I meant to ask you; would you like to go w
ith me to Santa Barbara?"
"You meant that, then? You’re a pilot?"
"I have a small Cessna. It would be just for lunch…"
"Yes! I’d love to."
"Wonderful. I’ll pick you up at…8 a.m. okay?"
"You’ve got it." She walked him back to the porch, where he took both her hands and squeezed them.
"You’re a nice person, Jessie, I like knowing you. Now go inside so I’ll know you’re in safe."
Her head was in a good place as she dressed for bed. Despite her encounter with Dane, she felt a new confidence growing from her friendship with Mac. She looked forward to seeing him in the morning.
~ * ~
The flight was exhilarating for her, and consequently for him as well. Mac spent a lot of time describing the various instruments, giving her an opportunity to fly the plane herself. They touched down in Santa Barbara in thirty minutes. Near the airfield, he opened a small storage space and rolled out a Kawasaki motorcycle, equipped with two helmets.
Jessica laughed. "You are one prepared guy!"
He drove her to the mountain neighborhood of Montecito where they stopped for a picnic lunch from a small deli and took it to a grassy bluff nearby. Jessica felt she’d stepped into someone else’s charmed life; the weather was perfect, the food great, the company exceptional. She came back to reality to hear him telling her that his ex-wife and daughter lived in a small, upscale Los Angeles suburb, and that his mother had emphysema and lived in a minimum care senior community nearby.
She felt surprise that this peaceful man could have an ex-wife. Was Wesley somewhere right now with a girl who wondered the same?
"It’s the business that breaks people up. Sad but true." He stared out at the sea. Jessica thought about Dane and his awful situation.
"Is everyone in the world divorced?" she wondered out loud. She told Mac about her own failure at wedded life. "We were the proverbial high school sweethearts. He wanted to be a film editor, but couldn’t seem to break in. I was doing ‘little theater’ and typing scripts. He became…very depressed. One day he just decided to move to Canada, and I…I didn’t go." Jessica paused, unable to meet her companion’s eyes. She didn’t want to dredge up more than was necessary to satisfy Mac’s natural curiosity. "I guess it was for the best. He’d never fit in with the life I have now."
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