The One That I Want

by Marilyn Brant

  “I will be. I think.” I took another step. Ow. “I’d better take the weight off of it, though.”

  He led me to a nearby circular cocktail table, which had a handful of empty chairs. “Let’s take a look.”

  I showed him my foot and ankle. He massaged them for a moment and I winced.

  “Hurts, huh? You should probably put an ice pack on that, just in case it starts to swell. I can get you one.”

  “No, don’t do that,” I said quickly. I glanced around. Already we were getting some odd stares from several of the other guests, I didn’t want to draw even more attention to myself. “I don’t want anyone to think I got a serious injury in the middle of your big party. It’s just a little twist. I’ll be fine soon.”

  “Okay. But do you think you can walk without too much pain to the elevator?”

  I knew it was located just outside of the reception area. Maybe thirteen or fourteen yards from where I was sitting.

  “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

  “Because my hotel room is almost directly above us.” He pointed to the ceiling. “Well, sixteen flights up but only a few feet from the elevator.”

  “Oh, we don’t have to go—”

  “Yes, we do. C’mon. I have ice in my mini fridge.”

  So, without attracting much attention (other than Shar’s, since she had a way of noticing everything, even when she was all the way across the room being held captive by the play’s director), Dane helped me get to the elevator and up to his suite.

  “Nice digs,” I said when we entered. The hotel room was just as he’d described—spacious, clean, and lovely—but, obviously, it was very different from the coziness of his childhood apartment. “And, wow. Planning to construct a float for the next Rose Parade in here?” There were dozens of flowers in vases of all sizes on every available surface.

  He looked a tad embarrassed. “I still get some ‘break a leg’ bouquets from fans.”

  “Apparently.”

  He helped me get comfortable on the sofa and set to work creating an ice pack from ice cubes in his mini-fridge and a plush hand towel. Then he propped me up with a couple of extra pillows and asked what I’d like him to bring me to drink.

  “I could get used to this,” I told him. “Thank you. You’ve already done plenty. You don’t have to bring me anything else, although—” I sunk deep into the sofa. “This is almost too relaxing. I could fall asleep right here.”

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t stop you. It’s after midnight already. Why don’t you stay?”

  “Here? With—uh, with you in the hotel room?”

  “Are you worried I’m going to jump your injured bones?” He eyed my reclined body comically, lingering on my twisted ankle with his makeshift ice pack.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, it’s not that.” I told him about my daughter’s Camp Willowgreen event the next morning and how I’d promised her I’d be there by ten. “It’s a two-hour drive up to the camp, so—”

  “So get some rest now. When do you need to wake up? I can set an alarm for you.”

  Theoretically, this should have been a very bad idea. I mean, there I was, lounging on Dane Tyler’s hotel-room sofa, after having spent the night as his “date.” Forget the possibility of curious paparazzi or my own longstanding fantasies, the idea of staying over when I knew I would need to go home to shower and change clothes before driving up to see Analise should have been enough for me to just say no.

  And, yet…

  It was a sign of how tired I was that I was considering this so seriously.

  “It would be tough to drive when your ankle is still bothering you,” he reasoned.

  “And I know it’s late, but I’m more drained than usual,” I admitted.

  “I bored you to exhaustion?” Dane suggested.

  I laughed. “No, that’s not it. I think it has more to do with the champagne I drank at the party and the fact that I haven’t been in heels for almost a year.”

  “You did have a couple of glasses, didn’t you? You definitely shouldn’t be driving then. Wait here.”

  Dane disappeared for a few minutes but returned armed with a bunch of stuff I could only partially identify. He handed me a sealed plastic packet and explained, “The hotel has a complimentary toiletry pack, so you’ll find a mini toothbrush, some toothpaste, facial cleansing pads, Q-tips, and God knows what else in here. But wait, there’s more!” he said, like a game-show host. He put a couple of folded items into my hands. “The t-shirt is brand new. Got it this week from the gift shop, but I can grab another. It’ll be long on you, but I think it’ll look way better on you than me.” It was a pretty light blue, featuring the Windy City’s skyline etched across the front and the words “Sweet Home Chicago” in scripty lettering at the top. “And here’s a fresh robe from the bathroom to warm you up after your shower or bath, whichever you’d like.” He pointed toward his bathroom. “Get yourself ready for bed, and I’ll fix up this pull-out sofa, all right?”

  He had it all so well planned out. “All right,” I heard myself agreeing. “Thanks, Dane.”

  “No problem.”

  After taking a quick but hot shower, changing into the t-shirt Dane gave me, and brushing my teeth, not only my ankle but all of me felt about three-hundred percent better. I emerged from the steamy bathroom to find him waiting for me—pillows, sheets, and a blanket already on the sofa bed.

  “Wow. That was fast,” I said, patting my hand on the mattress and reaching over to pull down the covers.

  “Get your hands off my bed, young lady,” Dane said.

  “What?”

  “You’re not sleeping here. This is my spot for the night. I’ve got you set up in the master bedroom.” He nudged me toward the private room.

  “Oh, no, no. Don’t be silly. That’s your—”

  “The sheets were changed by the staff this morning,” he interrupted, “and I didn’t even snitch the mint on the pillow. Come, I’ll show you to your room.”

  It had been so long since anyone had taken care of me that his kind gesture nearly brought tears to my tired eyes.

  “Thank you, Dane—once again,” I said, as he turned down the covers for me, hung up my fluffy robe and, finally, tucked me in.

  As I looked up at him from the pillow, he brushed the hair off my forehead the way someone might with a child, kissed the tender skin there, and rubbed the tip of his nose against mine, but only for a second. Still, time expanded in that instant, and it felt as though life itself were on pause as he hovered above me. I held my breath.

  “My pleasure,” he murmured.

  And then, like the gentleman he was, he pulled away, flicked off the lights, and left the room.

  I exhaled, long and slow, fighting sleep for as long as I was able and reliving the fairy-tale sweetness of the evening in my mind, like my own personal motion picture. But the darkness eventually claimed me and I knew nothing more of the night until a smell I recognized roused me hours later.

  Bacon?

  I got out of bed, pushed the door open, and saw Dane, wearing another of the white robes, sitting up on the sofa bed and arranging items on a food cart that must have recently arrived.

  He saw me peeking and grinned. “Good morning, sunshine. The alarm is set to go off in about five minutes, but I thought this would be a more pleasant way to wake up.” He pointed to a silver pot on the cart. “Hot coffee? There’s also bacon, scrambled eggs, English muffins with butter and jam, and a bowl of mixed fruit. Help yourself.”

  I had to stop myself from running over there, flinging my arms around him, and kissing him senseless.

  Instead, I said, “Yum. This is wonderful.”

  “Good.” He handed me a plate. “Eat something. How’s your ankle this morning?”

  “I can still feel a few twinges, but it’s a lot better. Shouldn’t be a problem walking or driving today.”

  He nodded and loaded up his plate with eggs, bacon and a few spoonfuls of fruit. “So, what do the organiz
ers have the parents do at this camp thing today?”

  I scrunched my nose up. “I’m not entirely sure. I’m afraid they might make us row across the lake in canoes or construct birdhouses or something. Hopefully, the kids will just show the parents around and we can all admire what they’ve done in the past two weeks.”

  “Sounds fun, actually. Kids have an energy that can’t be contained. Their enthusiasm is contagious.”

  “Yes, and it’ll be so nice to see Analise again. I’ve missed her like crazy.”

  He nodded as if he knew exactly what I meant. However, the expression he wore was an odd one, so I could sense he was wrestling with wanting to ask or tell me something. I hadn’t expected the words he said when they finally came out, though.

  “Want some company?”

  “At Camp Willowgreen?” I asked. “Today?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I don’t have to go into the actual event with you, especially if it’s something you’d like to do alone with your daughter. But if you wanted to have somebody else along for the ride—I know it’s a long drive—I’m free. We’re striking the set tonight at seven, but I don’t have anything else on my schedule until then.”

  It was strange. Necessity had made me the sole parent this year, so I’d gotten used to being the only one who went to my daughter’s events. The only one who did the grocery shopping. The only one who ran errands. The thought of having someone do something like this with me was so welcome, such a gift, that I was rendered speechless for a moment. Like last night, Dane’s kindness almost brought tears to my eyes. And I realized that, more than anything, I wanted to spend the day with my daughter. But, also, when I was no longer able to do that, I wanted to be in Dane’s company for the rest of it.

  “Are you sure you’d want to spend your free day that way?” I asked him.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  His handsome face broke in to a grin so breathtaking that I nearly dropped my coffee mug. “Because I like you,” he said, mimicking my words from the night before. “And I like spending time with you.”

  That made me laugh, as I was sure he knew it would. So, I feigned a bored shrug. “Well, that’s not a very original reason, but okay.”

  He crumpled up his cloth breakfast napkin and pitched it at me. “Smart ass. I suppose I’d better get ready then.” And, true to his word, after he finished his eggs, he pulled off his robe and tossed it on the sofa bed.

  My mouth ran dry as I watched him paddle around the suite without a shirt and wearing just a thin pair of navy boxers. A perfectly respectable ensemble if, perhaps, we were in Southern California. At a beach. And this were a “Hot Men of the Entertainment World” photo shoot for Sports Illustrated or something.

  As it was, in the confines of the hotel room, I felt the air temperature spiking around us. It burned all the warmer to me because I was so aware of my desires coming back to life after such a long hibernation. I couldn’t believe how much I wanted to run my fingertips across Dane’s shoulder muscles. Then down the length of his strong, smooth back. Then around his waist. And then…

  I watched him slip a black vee-neck t-shirt over his head. And, as he started to pull on a pair of blue jeans, he glanced over at me and caught me staring. For a second, he was motionless. Then he flashed another one of his incredible movie-star grins and I knew, with bone-deep certainty, that he was well aware of the effect his body had on the opposite sex.

  On me.

  But the fact that he didn’t in any way act on this knowledge was what made me breathless. If he hadn’t been across the room, I knew it would have been nearly impossible for me to stop myself from touching him.

  I licked my lips without thinking about it and his eyes darkened as he gazed at me.

  “That’s dangerous, Julia.” They were whispered words, but I could still hear him clearly.

  I didn’t say anything.

  He swallowed and finished pulling on his jeans. “We probably need to stop at your place, right? So you can drop off your car and change clothes?”

  Clothes… I took one last gulp of coffee and gobbled up the rest of my bacon slice. “Yes. I’ll hurry up,” I said, but it was hard to tear my gaze away from him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Change was a funny thing.

  As soon as I saw my daughter, I realized that a lot could happen that might significantly alter a person in a relatively short period of time. This was especially true if the person in question wanted, on some deep level, to change.

  Analise had wanted to change. To get over her depression. To stop grieving quite so much. I knew she’d prayed for the pain to lessen. Kept her fingers crossed for it. Wished on shooting stars, fallen eyelashes, and birthday candles. And, after just two weeks at Camp Willowgreen, I could tell she was getting closer to having her wish granted.

  I knew this time away wasn’t long enough to heal the past, but it was, perhaps, long enough to show her that a bad spell could be broken, even for a short while. It was long enough to create hope.

  And while I also knew that her new sparkle of happiness would have been immediately apparent to any adult who’d known her over this past and very difficult year, I sensed it wasn’t quite apparent to her yet.

  “Mommy!” she squealed when I walked into the camp’s giant rec room. She threw her tanned arms around my body and squeezed.

  I enfolded myself around her. She was too big to cradle in my arms anymore, but a part of me kept wanting to try.

  “Oh, my sweet girl. I think you’ve grown an inch at least since I last saw you. And you’re so tan! You must have been spending hours out in the sun.”

  She nodded. “I’m not as tan as some of the other girls, but Ms. Watkins, the camp director, makes us put on sunscreen every single day—morning and afternoon.”

  “Your dermatologist will love Ms. Watkins for that later.”

  “My derma-what?”

  “Never mind,” I said, unable to stop hugging her. “Just tell me what we get to do together today.”

  “Okay,” she replied, her eyes bright.

  She produced a folded sheet of orange-colored paper from her back shorts pocket with the words PARENTS’ DAY: 10AM - 3PM bolded and in all caps across the top. “First thing, I get to show you our cabin and how we decorated it. Then,” she read from the sheet, “is a visit to the art studio, so you can see my projects. Then there are games by the lake. Then it’s finally lunch!” She paused to take a breath and I laughed.

  “Do you know what they’re serving?” I asked.

  “Yes. It’s Sunday, so we’ll get cheesy pizza burgers, which are really good here. Tater tots. Milk. A salad, I think. And chocolate pudding.”

  “That sounds delicious,” I told her, but the truth was that I’d happily sit through a meal of roasted crickets and dried celery sticks if it meant I’d get to spend that precious hour with my daughter.

  “Yeah,” Analise said. “But then there’s the afternoon skit, which is gonna be bad, but after that it’ll be time for the awards cerem—”

  “Why will the skit be bad?”

  She shrugged. “There’s this boy in our group—Justin—and he’s really bossy. If I don’t say my lines fast enough, he says them for me in this high-pitched voice, like he’s pretending to be me. Then he says his next line.” She sighed. “I wish I was in Lindsay’s group or even Brooke’s. They have nicer people.”

  I felt myself frowning and tried to force my lips into a neutral position.

  “So, what would make you feel more ready for the skit? To have one of the camp counselors—maybe Shannon—pull Justin aside and tell him to stop jumping in so fast? Or to practice your lines a bit more beforehand, so you’ll know them better? How can I help you, sweetheart?”

  She looked up at me, hopeful. “I don’t want to tell on Justin. I just want to show him that I can do it.”

  “Okay. Shall we practice?”

  She nodded. “But first let me show you our cabin and my art projects. I don
’t care if we skip the games, and I don’t need the whole hour for lunch.”

  An idea began to form in my mind, but I wasn’t sure I should act on it. There I was, up at this camp with an incredibly skilled actor not more than a fifteen-minute drive away, and I had a daughter who needed help with a skit. It wouldn’t take a MENSA member to put those two people together.

  And yet…

  I neither wanted to inflict another new man on my daughter (especially after her negative reaction to Kristopher) nor did I want to infringe upon what little privacy and time off Dane had. For all I knew, the idea of serving as an acting coach to a ten-year-old could be right up there for him with getting difficult dental work done…or dealing with the most obnoxious members of the paparazzi.

  So I said nothing to Analise about Dane through the cabin visit and the art exhibition. But after chatting with Shannon and a group of her fellow counselors and seeing Analise’s face get all pinched with worry when one of them mentioned the skit this afternoon, I decided to take a chance.

  The ace actor was, I knew, currently wandering around the next town in his baseball cap and dark sunglasses. (“My disguise,” he’d joked.) I was supposed to text him when I was done at camp. Something told me that he’d respond quickly if I sent him a message a little early.

  “We don’t have to do this unless you want to,” I told Analise, “but do you remember the friend who sent me those flowers a few weeks ago?”

  She nodded. “D.T.”

  I laughed. “Right. The initials stand for Dane Tyler. He was a very famous actor when I was in school, and he’s in the area right now. So I was thinking—”

  “How famous? Like on TV?”

  “Oh, yeah. TV, movies, theater. He just finished being in a play in Chicago. I went to see it with Ms. Sharlene at the end of June, remember?”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “So, why did he send you flowers?”

  “Um, that’s a long story, and I can explain it later, but what I wanted to know is if you’d like to meet him. He’s just over in the next town today. Maybe he’s busy—I can’t be sure—but if he’s not and you’re interested in this, I could ask if he’d be able to come to camp for a little while and give you some advice on remembering your lines. But we totally don’t have—”