Not at Eight, Darling

by Sherryl Woods

  As she stared at his sleeping form, a smile tilted his lips, and she sensed a stirring beneath the sheet that lay provocatively draped across his hips. She ran her finger down his chest and heard a low moan rumble in his chest as he rolled into her touch, his body, hot and urgent against hers. Stirred to excitement yet again by no more than that, she was ready for him, her hands playing over his body, urging him back to a complete wakefulness and a shattering climax for both of them.

  “Sorry,” he murmured sleepily against her ear as he cradled her in his arms.

  She pulled back and stared into his eyes. “Sorry for what?”

  “That couldn’t have been very good for you. I was half asleep.”

  “Everything you do is good for me,” she corrected him. “And if you were so sleepy, how do I know you didn’t miss the best parts?”

  He chuckled. “And what might those have been?”

  “This,” she said, her lips brushing across his shoulder and trailing a line of fire down his chest until her tongue dipped into the indentation of his navel.

  “And this,” she murmured, her fingers dancing across his abdomen, capturing the heart of his masculinity, which was ready again. “You know, Mr. Compton, you’re pretty amazing.”

  “Only with you sweetheart. Only with you.”

  “I hope that’s true,” she said, unable to keep a note of wistfulness out of her voice.

  He looked at her closely. “Do you doubt it?”

  She remembered all the advice she’d ever read about not admitting to doubts. And she recalled yet more sage counsel that honesty in a relationship was the best policy. She opted for honesty. “Sometimes, yes.”

  “Don’t ever doubt it,” he soothed, cupping her face and forcing her to meet his eyes. “I may not know how to say it right, but you are the first woman I’ve ever cared about this way. The feelings we share are completely unique in my experience, and I don’t ever want to lose that.”

  “You won’t have to,” Barrie said, her heart suddenly lighter and filled with song. A love song. They might not have been a proposal or even an obvious declaration of love, but his words contained a powerful commitment nonetheless, and she rejoiced in what he had said.

  He brushed a kiss across her lips. “I’m glad to see the smile back.” He stacked the pillows at the head of the bed and pulled himself into a sitting position, then settled Barrie in his arms.

  “Now tell me something.”

  “What?”

  “Now that we’ve had dinner…and breakfast, is there more to this surprise of yours?”

  Barrie’s brow creased in a tiny frown. “I never thought beyond last night,” she admitted. “Isn’t that ridiculous? I guess I just assumed we’d have to fly back this morning.”

  “Don’t you think that would be a terrible waste of such a lovely room and idyllic setting?” he asked, running a hand across her stomach until the muscles in her abdomen contracted with an unbearable tension. When his fingers touched her sensitive breasts, Barrie gasped.

  “Now that you mention it,” she replied breathlessly.

  “What shall we do about it, then?”

  “I think you’re on the right track.”

  “I thought so too,” he admitted with a grin, as he intensified his touches until Barrie was writhing with pleasure and welcoming him back inside her.

  For the next twenty-four hours they never left the room, sleeping only when they were so exhausted they could no longer talk or make love, ordering room service in the middle of the night when fresh pineapple and flat champagne were no longer enough to sustain them. Barrie knew that if she lived to be one hundred she would never again meet anyone who could bring her such joy, who could satisfy her so completely on so many levels. And when, just as she fell asleep, she thought she heard Michael murmur that he loved her, she was sure her heart would explode with happiness.

  When they returned to Los Angeles late Sunday night, she was also certain that they were committed at last and that it would only be a matter of time before Michael said those three vital words aloud in broad daylight and followed them with a marriage proposal she knew she would accept. She had absolutely no fears any more about the future or about their ability to sustain their love for a lifetime. Michael had given her freedom from the past.

  But as the next few weeks flew by, that incredible feeling of a perfect harmony with her mate was tempered by her concern over Goodbye, Again. She grew to dread the beginning of each new week, when the national ratings were announced. Goodbye, Again had crept up a bit its second week on the air but then slid right back down to the bottom. The cast and crew were demoralized, and there didn’t seem to be a thing she could do. Pep talks were no longer nearly enough. Although she knew that Michael had been right about the show’s tone, that had been fixed, and she was certain now that the real problem was that horrible Saturday night time slot over which she had absolutely no control.

  “Dani, I don’t know what to do. I feel so helpless,” she said late one Tuesday afternoon after looking at the latest ratings. “I’ve tried talking to Michael about it, but it’s getting more and more awkward.”

  “When do you try talking to him?”

  Barrie looked at her oddly. “What do you mean? I talk to him whenever I get the chance.”

  “Like late at night? In bed?”

  She began to see where Danielle was headed. “Okay. Yes. I suppose that’s not the best place.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year. You’re the one who’s been saying all along that having a business and personal relationship confuses things. Maybe you should try separating them again. Make an appointment and talk to the man in his office. That’s where he makes his business decisions.”

  Barrie grinned at her. “And here I’d always heard the president got some of his best advice for running the country at home in bed.”

  “Maybe so, but the first lady is on his side. In the case of Goodbye, Again, you and Michael may be members of opposition parties.”

  Danielle was right, and Barrie reluctantly admitted it to her. “Okay, you win. I’ll call over there right now and see what his calendar looks like for this afternoon.”

  Unfortunately, according to Mrs. Hastings, Michael’s calendar looked crammed for the next week.

  “He’s flying to New York this afternoon, and I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”

  “He’s going this afternoon?” Barrie said incredulously. “He never mentioned a trip. Was it sudden?”

  “No, dear. I don’t think so. I made the arrangements several days ago.”

  “Oh,” Barrie’s voice was flat. “Well, never mind, Mrs. Hastings. “I’ll set up something when he gets back.”

  “That will be fine, dear,” she replied, then added kindly, “Don’t be upset about his trip. I’m sure he meant to tell you. He’s been terribly busy and distracted lately.”

  “Sure,” Barrie agreed without conviction. “Thanks.”

  “What’s wrong?” Danielle asked the minute the receiver was back in place.

  “He’s leaving town this afternoon, and he never said one word to me about it.”

  “Maybe it slipped his mind.”

  “Dani, the man has been at my house practically every night for the past month. Surely he could have found a minute to mention that he had to go to New York. Was he just planning on not showing up tonight and calling from the East Coast later to announce, ‘Oh, by the way, I won’t be over later. I’m 3,000 miles away’?”

  “Barrie,” Danielle said warningly.

  “Barrie what?”

  “You’re working yourself into a snit over nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “At this moment, it is nothing. Give the man a chance.”

  “You’re awfully generous. Aren’t you supposed to be on my side in this?”

  “I am. That’s why I’m trying to get you to calm down before you blow up and say something you’ll regret.”

  “I won’t regret it whe
n I give him a piece of my mind.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “I never indulge in useless regrets,” she replied stoutly.

  “You’d be better off if you didn’t indulge that sharp tongue of yours.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Michael did call from the airport to let Barrie know he was on his way out of town. And she did keep her mouth clamped firmly shut except to say goodbye and wish him a pleasant trip, but she didn’t like it. As she told Danielle later, “I’d have felt a whole lot better if I’d let him have it.”

  The next morning, when she picked up the trade papers on her way into the studio, she was even sorrier that she’d restrained herself. The headline on page one of both papers referred to the cancellation of several fall television shows. Prominently mentioned in each story was the “promising comedy” Goodbye, Again.

  “Despite being a personal favorite of network VP Michael Compton, this show suffered from anemic ratings from the start,” one writer noted. “Not even his bias could save it in the end.”

  Barrie read the articles with her fists clenched. By the time she’d finished, she was gritting her teeth. If Michael had been in his office across the parking lot, she would have marched over there and punched him squarely in that sexy, dimpled jaw of his. How dare he! How could he make love to her night after night and then have the audacity, the absolute gall to publicly cancel her television series without saying a single word to her personally? She’d had to read it in the damned paper. No wonder the man had gone to New York. He’d wanted to be far out of her reach when she exploded.

  She began muttering under her breath in graphic detail precisely what she planned to do to him when she got her hands on him. Mincemeat. That’s what she’d make of him. He, not she, might have earned a reputation as someone who’d casually dissect his enemies without a second thought. But when she got through with him he’d look more innocent than Tom Sawyer by comparison. She was not about to let him make a fool of her and get away with it. She’d have his hide first! She picked up a lovely cloisonné paperweight he’d given her and threw it across the room for emphasis. It crashed against the door, just as Danielle opened it and peeped in.

  “I take it you’ve seen the stories.”

  “You bet I’ve seen the stories,” Barrie thundered, following up with a ten minute spiel of obscenities that would have made a sailor pale. Danielle winced but came in and sat down cross-legged on the sofa to wait her out. She finally sputtered to a halt.

  “Finished?” she asked cheerfully.

  “Not by a long shot. That man is an arrogant, selfish, cruel son…” She started all over again.

  “You’re going to have a stroke if you don’t calm down,” Danielle observed casually at last, only barely interrupting the flow of furious words.

  “Besides,” she noted, “you’re wasting all the good stuff on me. If you have to use such foul language, save it for Michael.”

  Suddenly tears filled Barrie’s eyes, and she buried her head on her desk. “How could he?” she mumbled brokenly. “Dani, how could he do this without even telling me himself? Good Lord, I thought he loved me.”

  “Sweetie, maybe that was the problem.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He knew what this would do to you. Maybe he couldn’t bring himself to tell you in person.”

  “Michael’s not a coward.”

  “He’s not cruel either, is he?”

  “I never thought so before,” she sniffed, hating herself for breaking down.

  “Then there must be some explanation.”

  “There isn’t an explanation in the world good enough. Michael could talk from now until hell freezes over, and I will never accept this as anything other than the worst possible kind of betrayal.”

  When the phone rang on her desk, she flatly refused to pick it up.

  “What if it’s Michael?” Danielle argued.

  “Let him put whatever he has to say in a memo. He seems to enjoy that.”

  “You’re not being very professional.”

  “I’m not feeling very professional. I’m feeling like a woman who’s been stabbed in the back by the man she loves.”

  The shrill ringing finally stopped, only to start again. “I can’t stand it,” Danielle said with a shudder, jumping up and snatching the phone off the hook. “Barrie MacDonald’s office.”

  Though Barrie wanted to pretend disinterest, she couldn’t help listening to see if it was, in fact, Michael.

  “Yes, she’s in, but she’s not available just now,” Danielle said coolly. “No, Michael. I’m not sure when she’ll be available.”

  Danielle was quiet for several minutes, then said at last, “How do you think she feels? She’s miserable.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I’ll tell her, but I don’t think she’ll listen. Bye.”

  “Tell me what.”

  “That he’s sorry. That there’s an explanation. That he loves you. I think that covers all of the major points.”

  “Right,” Barrie retorted sarcastically.

  “He’s calling back in five minutes, and he expects to talk to you.”

  “I won’t talk to him.”

  “You might as well talk to him and get it over with. I have a feeling he’s not giving up.”

  “And exactly what is he going to do to make me listen to him when he’s 3,000 miles away.”

  “Okay. So he can’t very well tie you down long distance, but you’re only postponing the inevitable. He’ll be back sooner or later.”

  When the phone rang again, Barrie glared at it. Resignedly Danielle picked it up.

  “Nope. She’s still not talking.” She watched Barrie as she listened. “He says you’re a coward if you don’t get on the line.”

  Barrie yanked the receiver out of Danielle’s hand. “Who the hell do you think you’re calling a coward?” she demanded. “I’d say you have the market cornered on that. To think that I trusted you.”

  “Barrie, what can I say? I’m sorry,” he began apologetically. “I wanted to tell you myself, but the word leaked out yesterday before I had a chance. We weren’t planning to make the announcement until next week when we’d firmed up the replacement shows.”

  “Were you planning on calling from New York, or were you going to send a telegram?”

  “I was going to tell you in person the minute I got back. I would never handle a cancellation this way, no matter who the producer was, and I certainly wouldn’t have done this to you, if I’d had any choice in the matter.”

  “Oh, you had a choice all right. You just made the wrong one, and now you’re trying to weasel out of it.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I love you. I would never intentionally set out to hurt you.”

  Barrie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. How she had longed to hear him say that he loved her. Now he was saying it in practically every other sentence, and she didn’t believe him for a minute.

  “Your timing is lousy, Compton. You never did understand how to write comedy.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny. I want to marry you.”

  “That’s ludicrous. You’ve just destroyed my career. If you think I’d marry you after that, you’re crazy. Marriage is no substitute for a career. A career won’t betray you the way you betrayed me.”

  “I’ve hardly destroyed your career, I never meant to betray you, and I am definitely not offering marriage as a substitute. I’m proposing because I love you and I think you love me. Don’t be stubborn and throw away our chance for happiness.”

  “Forget it,” she snapped. “But I must say that line’s really not too bad. Save it for you next melodrama.”

  “Barrie…”

  She cut in curtly. “How long do we have?”

  “Barrie, listen to me, please.”

  “How long?” she repeated adamantly.

  Michael sighed wearily. “You are officially out of production now.”

&nbs
p; Barrie felt the sharp sting of tears in her eyes. “Fine. I’ll be out of my office by the end of the day.”

  “You know that’s not necessary.”

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “It is. Goodbye, Michael.”

  “Barrie, wait. Please.”

  “Goodbye…Again.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  As soon as Barrie slammed the receiver emphatically back into place, she looked at Danielle and said abruptly, “Call everyone together. I might as well get this over with.”

  “Are you sure you want to talk to them now while you’re this upset?”

  Barrie’s expression was tight-lipped, but her voice was perfectly controlled. “I don’t want to do it at all, but I owe it to them. I can’t just sit here and sulk all day. Come back and get me as soon as everyone’s here.”

  Danielle nodded. “Okay, sweetie. Whatever you say.”

  Her voice had been quietly sympathetic. Too sympathetic. As soon as she had gone, Barrie’s facade of bravado slipped and she blinked away a fresh cascade of tears. Hearing Michael’s voice on the phone and listening to him declare his love and ask her to marry him had ripped her apart inside. She had expected those long-desired words to be almost magical when they were finally spoken and to bring her lasting happiness. Instead she felt only empty, alone and utterly devastated.

  The cancellation would have been bad enough. At least the ratings had foreshadowed that for weeks now, and she had been almost ready for it. But nothing could have prepared her for the devastation of hearing about it secondhand. Michael had obviously made the decision days ago, and surely he had owed it to her to give her some warning. No matter what sort of fluke had allowed the word to leak out prematurely, Michael should have told her himself the moment he knew there was a risk of it appearing in print.

  She sighed. Well, it was too late now. As soon as she had spoken with the cast and crew, she would gather her things and leave. With any luck she would be moved out of her office long before Michael even returned to Los Angeles.

  When Danielle finally tapped on her door, Barrie took a deep breath and walked back to the set with her. From the long faces and red-rimmed eyes, she could tell that they were all taking the news as hard as she had, though for very different reasons. They had not just lost a series but had also lost their jobs. She had lost all that and her lover, too. All in all it had been one hell of a morning.