by Wendy Wax
An eternity later she parked the newly washed Land Rover on Thirty-first and hurried to the cottage. When she opened the door she found Joe already there, both girls in his arms and theirs looped around his neck. There was laughter and little-girl giggles. She breathed in the sight of them and ran to join in the family hug, barely caring in that moment that Luvie was still there bustling about the tiny kitchen, very much a part of the laughter.
“How long have you been here? When did you get back?” Her heart flooded with happiness.
“About fifteen minutes ago. My flight got in early. But you won’t believe what just happened.” Joe’s dark eyes sparked with excitement. “When I walked in Gemma was on her feet kind of teetering, you know. But when she saw me she walked. She made it all the way to me—four or five whole steps without falling down!”
“That’s right, mum,” Luvie said, beaming with pride. “And look at this.” She held up her cell phone as if it were a trophy. “I was standing right here and I got the whole thing on video for you!”
* * *
• • •
It should have been hard to stay angry when everyone else seemed so happy, but somehow Nikki managed. Even after Luvie excused herself and went home, anger coursed through her. While she and Joe bathed and put the girls to bed together and while they were sitting at the dinette with glasses of wine and Luvie’s shepherd’s pie, she felt the dregs of an impotent fury.
She pushed the minced meat and potato around her plate, unwilling to fork so much as a bite of Luvie’s offering into her mouth while Joe talked about the FBI sting that had caught a ring of doctors and medical labs that had been defrauding Medicare patients and funneling a large part of their illegal gains to terrorist groups.
Her eyes were pinned on Joe’s face as he described what he could of his next assignment, but what she saw was the scene she’d walked in on, a scene in which Luvie played the part that belonged to her.
“Nikki?” Joe looked up from refilling her wineglass, whose calories she was too upset to count. “Nik?”
“Hmmm?”
“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
She was tempted to deny there was a problem or at least change the subject, but the man read faces for a living. “I can’t believe I missed Gemma taking her first real steps. I hate that I missed it.” Hated that she’d abdicated her parenting responsibilities without a fight. “I really think it’s time to cut back on Luvie’s hours.”
“But she’s so good with the girls,” he said reasonably. “And it’s not as if you can know when something like that is going to happen. It was a total fluke that I happened to be here to witness it. It’s just the luck of the draw.”
“But the less I’m here the greater the chance I’m going to miss things.” Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass. And it’s not like I’m doing anything necessary—I mean, if we needed me to earn a paycheck or I was contributing to the world in any way, that would be different.”
“I think you underestimate the impact your love and attention have on Sofia and Gemma. I don’t think that’s a function of hours spent,” Joe said quietly. “But no one’s stopping you from doing whatever feels right. If you want to cut back on Luvie that’s up to you, although I do think part of why she’s putting in so many hours is that she’s lonely. You know, now that her mother’s gone and she’s not in her home country.”
Nikki flushed in embarrassment. She had so much and yet she was jealous of an older woman who seemed to have no one. How small of her. And how like Joe to be able to see all sides.
“You’re right. I just, I don’t know, I guess I feel at loose ends, and I did talk with Bitsy today about working on some things here at the Sunshine.”
“It’s your call, Nik. But I’d be careful not to cut back too far. There are two of them and if Gemma’s walking, Sofia can’t be far behind. I’m going to be traveling even more given the new assignment. It’s easy to underestimate how much you need help when you’ve got so much of it.”
She nodded but her thoughts stayed on Luvie. With the girls getting more active, surely she and the nanny could at least share the responsibility and care instead of Luvie taking it all on.
The conversation turned. As they caught up, the anger seeped out of her system and she wondered for the thousandth time how she had gotten so lucky. How she, who had struggled for so long alone, had ended up with two healthy children, enough money to be able to choose whether to work or not, and friends she could count on. And at the center this man. Who was so loving. So unflappable. And so incredibly hot.
They dawdled over the meal, their glances growing more intimate, their hands clasping across the table, the atmosphere increasingly electric. When he stood and walked around the small table to draw her to her feet, she was already alight with anticipation.
“I missed you.” His lips brushed over hers, warm and provocative. “Missed us.” His hands slid down to cup her bottom and pull her more tightly against him. There was no mistaking his intent or his body’s reaction to hers.
“You’ve lost weight, haven’t you?” He murmured this into her ear, and the words were like flame to a match; the fact that he had noticed was the ultimate aphrodisiac, if she had needed one.
Their kiss was long and deep. Without discussion they moved to the bedroom, where he took his time removing her clothing then waited with barely leashed impatience for her to do the same to him. When he reached out to touch her breast, run a thumb across her nipple, she shuddered and reached for him. The look in his eyes left no doubt of the heat he felt or how much he desired her.
Together they tumbled onto the bed. She knelt above him, teasing his body with hers as his hands moved over her heated skin, urging her on.
Finally, when she thought she might go mad with wanting him, he wrapped his hands around her waist and slowly settled her on top of him. Their bodies melded and grew slick as their rhythm built toward a place where there was no room for worry or doubt. A place where they could only go together.
* * *
• • •
“Cut!” Brandon called. “We’re clear! That’s a wrap for you, little man.” The First AD gave Dustin a high five followed by another one down low. “Good job!”
“Absolutely first rate!” Daniel gave Dustin a thumbs-up, but the words were automatic, as was the way he ruffled Dustin’s hair.
“But . . . I can do better. Can I try again?” Dustin pleaded as his father moved toward the monitor.
“No can do, amigo,” Brandon said. “You are officially off the clock.”
Dustin’s chin stuck out. His eyes remained on his father and Tonja, whose heads were bent together to watch a replay. The Director of Photography joined them.
“Wanna say good-bye to Dandiel!”
“We need to go now.” Kyra took Dustin’s hand and tried to lead him away, but his feet seemed to have taken root. The meltdowns were infrequent, but seemed to be growing in intensity.
Tonja looked up at the raised voices, her lovely blond brow lowering. When she saw Dustin’s expression she leaned over and whispered something to Daniel. Daniel walked over.
“Did I forget to say good-bye again?” Daniel asked, giving Dustin a big smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You did a great job today. All week, really. You’re an ace. Everyone’s very impressed.” He bent and lifted Dustin. “We were just checking to make sure we had everything we needed.”
“I can do some more takes.”
“Not according to the Screen Actors Guild you can’t.” There was regret in Daniel’s voice, and Kyra knew that if he’d been able to get away with it, he would have let his son work more than the maximum three hours per day and kept him on set longer than the hours allowed.
“Come on, I’ll walk you guys to the car,” Brandon cut in so smoothly that Kyra could have kissed him. It was the First Assistant Director wh
o created the shooting schedule and who had made sure Dustin’s call was set for eight each morning with his first scene at nine A.M. to take advantage of the morning hours when a child his age is most alert and engaged. That schedule had given their days a structure rarely found on film sets.
After lunch they’d use Dustin’s double, Sean Garrity, who at seven years of age could work for four hours and be on set for eight and a half to shoot wide, long, over the shoulder, and any other necessary cover shots of Dustin’s character.
Brandon opened the back door of the waiting SUV and helped Dustin into the backseat. Kyra slid in beside him and buckled the straps of his car seat. “Weather looks good all next week and the rebuilt amusement park should be up and running, so you guys rest up and be ready.”
He closed the car door and tapped the roof. The car pulled out.
The drive to the compound was blessedly brief. When they arrived at the guard gate, Joan McCreary stepped out and motioned for them to lower the window. Her uniform was crisply pressed, her manner professional. “Sorry to bother you, but you have a guest.”
“A guest?” Kyra asked.
“He claims to be a friend, and he didn’t have any camera gear or a weapon. But you can never be too careful. I suggested he call you or come back later, but he insisted on waiting.”
“Okay.” Her mother was in Dallas with Will and she couldn’t imagine who else might have known where to find her. “Let’s take a look.”
The guard nodded crisply then turned toward the guard hut. “You can come out now, sir. But don’t make any sudden moves.”
Troy Matthews stepped out of the hut, his hands up in prisoner fashion. “Thank God you’re back! I think she was trying to decide whether to shoot me.”
“I did consider it briefly,” Joan said. “But only after he asked me to strip-search him.”
Troy shrugged and grinned. “What can I say? There’s something about a woman in a uniform that makes me throw caution to the wind.”
Joan shook her head, clearly trying not to laugh.
Kyra rolled her eyes. But Dustin was smiling in a way he hadn’t all week. “Hello, Broy! Did you come to play with me?”
“I actually came to see if I could take you two to Disney World.”
“Disney World? I love Disney World!” Dustin exclaimed joyously although, in truth, he had never been. “Can we go see Mickey Mouse?”
“You should have called first,” she said to Troy.
“I would have if I’d thought you’d actually take my call.”
“I do have a gun inside, ma’am,” Joan said. “If you’d like to borrow it.”
“Wanna go to Disney World!” Dustin shouted happily.
Kyra sighed. “I guess you can let him in so we can discuss this.”
Troy’s grin matched Dustin’s as he leaned in the window to give him a high five.
“Will do, ma’am,” Joan said. “But don’t forget you’ve got those panic buttons. In case he gets so annoying you need us to come remove him.” She smiled. “I’d be more than happy to keep him here in the security hut for a while to teach him a little lesson.”
Twenty-two
The moment they reached the cottage Dustin raced inside to pack. Kyra snapped a leash on Max and “invited” Troy outside to help her walk him.
“I don’t appreciate being put on the spot like this,” she said as Max squatted. “An adult would have invited us in advance.”
“And I would have done that if I’d thought you’d consider the invitation with an open mind.”
“That’s not the point,” she protested as Max pulled her from bush to bush and tree to tree.
“Of course it is.” He fell in beside her. “But I’ve got multi-park passes and a reservation for two rooms at the Grand Floridian. I thought maybe we could just call a truce and go have a good time, and get to know each other better.”
“I’ve known you for three years, Troy. Finding out you’re not who you’ve pretended to be all this time doesn’t inspire a whole lot of trust. And I still can’t figure out why all of a sudden you’re interested in me and want to know me better.”
“What can I say? The heart wants what it wants.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s not like I haven’t tried to talk myself out of you.”
“How incredibly flattering.” She waited for Max to pick a tree trunk. “And if I ask you to leave?”
“Then I guess I’ll have to accept that you’d rather stay here and spend the weekend mooning after ‘he who does not deserve you.’ After I go you can explain why we’re not going to Dustin.”
“You do see how wrong this is on pretty much every level. I mean . . .”
“I’m ready!” Dustin appeared in the doorway wheeling his overnight bag. “I packed my pajamas and my bathing suit. Can we go now?”
Troy turned to her and raised an eyebrow, but remained mercifully silent.
“Pleaaaassse?” Dustin ran out to her and looked up at her beseechingly. “Pretty please? With sugar on top? And . . .” He looked so forlorn he might have been the orphan from Oliver! begging for “more.”
“Fine,” she bit out, leading the way back inside. “I’ll get my things together. And let’s take a look in your suitcase and make sure you’ve got everything you need.” She handed Troy the folder of contact numbers. “You can call your girlfriend at the front gate and find out how we organize pet sitting.”
Twenty minutes later they were in Troy’s car and headed for the guard gate, where he waved an annoyingly merry good-bye to Joan. The former stuntwoman winked back.
After they exited the compound, Dustin and Troy made plans for their assault on Disney. Then Troy turned the conversation to The Exchange. She was shocked by how gently he elicited Dustin’s thoughts and reactions. How readily her son answered all the questions she’d been too busy trying to navigate their situation to ask. It was the first time she’d heard him say that his favorite part of acting was being good at it and that his least favorite part was the standing around waiting to “hact.”
About midway through the drive her shoulder muscles loosened. A short time later her jaw felt odd. When she reached a hand up, she realized that it had unclenched. When they arrived at the hotel, Troy suggested they send the luggage up to their rooms and get to the Magic Kingdom as soon as possible, because they were “burning daylight.”
“Oh, boy! That’s exactly what I was hoping!” Dustin said, reaching for both their hands.
“Is that all right with you, Kyra?” Troy asked.
“Sure,” she said, somewhat stunned by the lack of sarcasm in his voice. “That’s what I was hoping, too.”
* * *
• • •
Dallas was a blur. Maddie watched it fly by from the backseat of the limo that Aquarian had provided. In it she traveled with Will, from radio station to radio station, and then on to a television morning show, before arriving at the tour kickoff press luncheon put on by the record label. Their PR escort was a leggy blonde named Vicki who was young enough to be Maddie’s daughter.
“So, we’re not going to make a big deal about you being with Will,” Vicki said as they were helped out of the limo. “All you need to do is smile as often and sincerely as possible. If any members of the media ask you a question, you can answer. But, um, we think it might be best not to initiate anything.”
“No speaking unless spoken to. Got it.” Maddie did not appreciate being treated like a child by someone who actually was one. But she had no problem staying in the background. In fact, it was a relief.
“I didn’t mean . . . we just want everyone’s attention on Will and the band. You know, not on who he’s traveling with.”
“I’m happy to go back to the hotel,” she began. “I really don’t mind if . . .”
“I mind,” Will said smoothly. “I appreciate having my ‘wingman’ her
e.” He turned his back on the blonde and took Maddie’s arm. “By the way, you look great. Did you do something different?”
“No.” She smiled even as she sent a silent thank-you to Nikki and Bitsy for serving as stylists.
“Just smile and look like you’re having fun,” he said in her ear. “And if anybody asks, you can tell them I’m your main squeeze. Don’t forget to let them know that I’m really great in the sack.”
“Oh, no, that’s not a good idea . . . ,” the young woman began.
“He’s just yanking your chain,” Lori said, rolling her eyes at the blonde.
“You and I are sitting over there.” Lori led Maddie to the record label’s table, just one away from where Will and the band were seated with handpicked members of the media. When dessert had been cleared the band posed for photos and a surprising number of reporters’ selfies. One-on-ones with the entertainment media followed, the band members moving from table to table as if they were speed dating.
Maddie kept a smile on her face and her attention focused on the band. Though no one in the press spoke to her, more than a few cameras were aimed her way. By the time the event ended and every potential drop of media attention had been squeezed from the day, Maddie could barely form a smile, let alone think.
“We’re heading over to the venue for a sound check.” Will leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“Oh.” Maddie tried to sound enthusiastic. “Great.”
Will smiled sympathetically. “You don’t have to come for the check. You’ve been a trooper. I don’t remember doing a single interview when we were touring in the seventies.” He yawned. “But then there’s a lot that happened back then that I don’t remember. And even more I wish I didn’t.” He turned to Lori. “Can you get Maddie back to the hotel?”
“Sure thing.”