Call it Love

by Kress, Alyssa

  Bernard's eyes widened. "You accuse me of manipulation? You're the one playing God. Why do you think it's best for anyone that Chess not know his father? The only person it's best for is you."

  Kate stared at him, feeling his words like blows. How could he say that? How could he?

  But she knew how he could. Because it was true.

  "He's going to find out," Bernard promised. He took a step back from her. "You've kept it secret for this long, but that doesn't mean you can keep it forever. The truth will come out, and when it does—" Bernard's jaw tightened. "When it does, you're going to get exactly what you fear. Your son will be furious."

  Kate didn't reply. How could she? It was true. "So why do you insist on meeting him? Do you want to hurt me?"

  Their eyes met. Slowly, Bernard shook his head. His expression showed his frustration and anger. "You don't get it. You're hurting yourself." Then he turned firmly and stalked down the pier.

  Kate stayed where she was, swaying a little. He didn't understand. Dammit, he didn't understand. From the beginning, she'd gone to extremes to teach Chess 'independence.' To teach him to rely on no one but himself. All from the perspective of a bitter and very young person.

  She'd wronged him so grievously it was amazing they still had a relationship at all. The only way Kate could make things worse was by admitting her very worst sin: deliberately keeping him and his father apart.

  Chess would hate her for that. He would hate her forever.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Although Ruth had busted her butt to get her two star clients on the Buddy Rivers Show, she had grave misgivings. Buddy came off as an ordinary, amiable guy over the airwaves, but in fact the longtime talk show host had a keen eye and an incisive tongue. If he found a skeleton in the closet of one of his guests, he wouldn't hesitate to throw it into the light of day. It was quite possible he would perceive the true state of Chess and Cookie's marriage.

  But on the other hand, the local show was syndicated. Scents Allure and Love would be getting exposure in twenty major cities across the country. It was too good a chance to pass up.

  Ruth's misgivings increased when Chess arrived.

  He was pale and irritable. "They're not going to put makeup on me, are they?"

  Ruth got down to essentials. "Where's Cookie?"

  Chess avoided her eyes. "She's taking a cab from the house."

  "For God's sake, Chess. Couldn't you have managed to stay on her good side for even half a day?"

  "I'm on her good side." Chess's expression was peculiar. "We...simply had a little mix-up this morning. I thought it would be better to take separate transportation over here."

  Ruth heaved a sigh. "What did you do?"

  Chess ran a hand through his hair. "She takes so damn long getting dressed."

  Ruth didn't see what this had to do with the price of tea in China. "Never mind. Just listen, kiddo, and listen good. From this moment on, it didn't happen."

  "I wish." Chess sounded very sincere.

  Ruth was taken aback. "Yes, well. That's the right attitude. You stay here. I'll make sure Cookie gets put on the other side of the studio. Maybe that way you can manage not to offend her any further before the show begins."

  Chess gave a sheepish laugh. "Good idea."

  "God." Ruth left Chess in a dressing room and went outside to find Cookie.

  Cookie was paying off a cab. She turned and, upon seeing Ruth, immediately grimaced. "Is this dress all right?" She gestured toward her starched navy cotton shirtwaist. White piping and close tailoring outlined the curves of her lush body. Like most of Cookie's clothing, it was only nominally decent.

  Thank God.

  "The dress is fine. Er, how are you doing?" Ruth wanted to know how much damage Chess had done.

  "Nervous," Cookie said, but with obvious excitement. "I've never been on live camera before. They say it's a completely different experience from the stage." She took Ruth's arm as they walked into the building.

  As Ruth carefully steered Cookie to a dressing room far away from Chess, she scanned the other woman's face for signs of agitation. But all she was saw was Cookie's natural vivacity bubbling out as she looked forward to this new experience. Cookie didn't appear particularly concerned about having to show public affection for a man she hadn't spoken to for weeks.

  In the dressing room, Cookie sat down in front of the mirror as though she'd been born there. One of the staff makeup artists came by, and she and Cookie began a spirited discussion about what should be done with her cheekbones.

  When the staff artist left briefly, Ruth took a chair next to Cookie. "Um, darling, I have to ask. How are, er, relations between you and Chess today? You going to do okay?"

  Cookie didn't raise her eyes from a pot of rouge while a deep blush suffused her face. "I'll be fine."

  Ruth wasn't buying. "You want to talk about it?"

  Cookie shot her a brief glance and then stuck one finger in the rouge. "There's nothing to talk about." Her voice lowered as she muttered under her breath. "There's never anything to talk about." This last sounded wistful. "How's Chess?"

  About like you. Ruth frowned, baffled. She didn't get another chance to speak with either Cookie or Chess while they were tied up with makeup and then Buddy's script people.

  At ten seconds to show time, Ruth took her Canon out of its case. She'd gotten permission to stand behind the cameras and take still shots of the program. She hoped she wasn't about to commemorate a disaster.

  Buddy popped out of his dressing room wearing a navy blue sport jacket and jogged over to the informal seating arrangement that was designed to look like a living room. He already had on his easy smile when the cameras started rolling. A true pro, he read the cue cards describing his next guests as though the words were his own.

  Ruth turned her gaze from the handsome, aging talk show host toward the corner of the set. There Chess and Cookie waited to come on.

  They stood next to each other but without looking at each other. Ruth winced. They looked like a couple of teenagers out on a blind date: nervous, insecure, and slightly resentful.

  Buddy Rivers spoke to the camera audience. "And now I'd like you to meet the reigning king and queen of perfume, Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw."

  The floor manager gave Chess a tap on the shoulder.

  Chess glanced down at Cookie. Ruth saw nerves in the glance but something else as well. She couldn't quite put her finger on what that something was. Then, as the two started walking toward the living room arrangement, Cookie made some quiet comment that started Chess grinning. He wore a nice warm smile by the time he shook Buddy's hand.

  Oh, Cookie, I could kiss you! The little lady was a pro. Not only did she know her own acting tricks, but also she had enough savoir-faire to take care of Chess along the way.

  Buddy took Cookie's hand and, instead of a manly shake, brought it up to his lips for a gallant kiss. Then he looked straight at Chess with a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

  "Sit down, please," Buddy told the two. Discreetly lifting his trousers at the knees, the host took his own seat in a plush armchair.

  Ruth had a very bad feeling. The introduction Buddy had given his guests had been glowing. Too glowing. Now he wanted to expose the truth behind the romantic story Ruth had given his show's writers.

  "Now, let me see if I have this straight," Buddy began, his tone warm and charming. "Before you two were married, you were otherwise related, isn't that so?"

  "Stepbrother and stepsister," Chess supplied.

  "Right. So, this is complicated. It was your father, Rebecca, who married Chester's mother?"

  "That's right. I was fifteen. Chess was eighteen." Cookie wore a matron-of-the-garden-club smile.

  "And that was, forgive me, my dear, twenty years ago?"

  Cookie laughed. It was a delighted laugh. "Oh, I'm not shy about my age, although my agent tells me I should be."

  Her subtle effort at evasion wasn't going to work with Buddy. He had a definite goa
l in sight. "Twenty years!" he repeated. "You and Chess have known each other for two decades. Why decide to get married now?"

  It was a damn good question, Ruth had to admit. Cookie and Chess shared a glance. It was a glance of the guilty. Ruth's heart sank like a stone.

  "We..." Chess sounded like an explanation was hard going. "...started to see each other differently."

  Buddy crossed one knee over the other. "Just like that?" His voice was incredulous.

  Cookie hadn't taken her eyes off Chess. "Oh, I can pinpoint exactly when it happened."

  Beside her, Ruth could hear the cameraman getting instructions to focus in on Cookie's face. She knew why. There had been a breathy, restrained emotionality in Cookie's voice that presaged a fascinating confession.

  Bless you, Ruth thought once again. Her little actress was coming through.

  "It was that day at the cemetery, Chess. You remember? Alex couldn't come—that's my younger half-brother," Cookie informed Buddy Rivers. "It was the first anniversary of my dad's death, and Chess hadn't wanted me to be alone at the graveside, so he came instead."

  God, she was good. Ruth could have sworn there was real emotion in the eyes Cookie trained on her husband.

  For his part, Chess was staring back at her with fixed intensity. "Yes," he agreed, a little hoarse. "You're right. That's the day everything changed."

  Buddy was stymied.

  Ruth was singing. She brought her camera up just in time to catch her two stubborn clients gazing at each other. In the next instant, their eyes slid apart.

  "Now, Chess, I understand that you're the meat and heart of the fragrance company." Buddy had apparently decided to change tack. "It's you who actually design the perfumes that are labelled 'Scents Allure.'"

  Chess smiled affably and gave a thankfully concise explanation of his role in developing the scents and all that his mother did on the business end of things. "Rebecca," he concluded, "has taken on a big role in the company by doing the modelling for our advertising campaign."

  Chess wasn't such a bad actor himself, Ruth thought. He almost sounded proud of this last fact.

  "I know about the modelling," Buddy agreed. "In fact I have a few samples of your wife's work here with me. Rich, you want to get a shot of this for our viewers?"

  Rich obediently dived in for a close-up of the October ad of Cookie in her silk bathrobe.

  Chess stuck a finger in his collar.

  "That's quite an advertisement." Buddy's voice was rich with deliberately masculine admiration. "It really gives the impression that if a person would only use a little bit of this liquid Love, why, anything could happen."

  "That's what we believe," Chess agreed.

  Buddy put the magazine down. He regarded Cookie with his most harmless smile. "Now, have you found that to be the case, Mrs. Bradshaw? Does Mr. Bradshaw go wild if you put on some of his perfume?"

  "Oh, I—" Cookie's face flushed warmly.

  Dammit, Ruth cursed. The show's head writer had promised he wouldn't bring up the fact of Cookie's allergy. This was one disaster she hadn't foreseen.

  Judging by Cookie's apologetic smile, she was unable come up with a suitable response.

  Chess simply came out and admitted it. "Cookie is allergic."

  Buddy was temporarily thrown off his goal. "Cookie?"

  Chess grinned crookedly. "Cookie's her family name."

  "He only uses Rebecca when he's angry with me," Cookie supplied.

  Buddy laughed. That's when Ruth saw the TV host begin a new calculation. It might turn out more profitable to play up the chemistry between these two rather than try to expose them as frauds.

  Ruth could only pray they'd manage to wing their way through the chemistry test.

  "So you're actually allergic to perfume, Cookie— May I call you that?"

  "It's true." Cookie wrinkled her nose.

  "Actually," Chess spoke up, his voice very deep. "I brought along a little something that might help with that problem."

  "Oh, wonderful." Buddy's enthusiasm was unfeigned as Chess reached into his inside jacket pocket. "What is it?" he asked, as Chess produced a small glass bottle.

  He didn't bother to tell me about this, Ruth groused. But her pique disappeared almost instantly when Chess began to speak.

  "This is a little something I've been working on, just for Cookie." Chess held up a thin bottle that was shaped like a leaf. "It's of completely exotic and unusual ingredients." Chess looked at Cookie. "It still might cause your allergy, though."

  Buddy looked pleased enough to split a gut. Arch, he turned to Cookie. "What do you say, Mrs. B? Willing to give this concoction a try?"

  Cookie was staring at that little leaf-shaped bottle as though it were the Holy Grail.

  Ruth brought up the Canon and snapped. Was she willing to give it a try? The woman looked as though she'd have walked through fire to get to that bottle.

  Without a word, Cookie nodded.

  "She agrees!" Buddy was ebullient. "Here. May I?" He held out his hand for the bottle.

  Apparently caught off guard, Chess gave it to him.

  "Now. How does one do this?" Buddy looked eager to be initiated.

  Chess leaned back in his chair with a resigned smile. "First open the cap. Then put your finger over the opening and splash some of the liquid over it."

  After following these instructions, Buddy dipped his head to sniff what he'd got on his finger.

  "What you're smelling now is called the top note," Chess informed him. "Fragrance people tend to talk in terms of music. The top note means your first impression. It wears away almost immediately."

  "Hmm." Buddy looked down at his finger and then at Cookie. "And now what? Where does this go?"

  "Well, this is a fairly subtle fragrance. I didn't want to overpower her natural scent, which I happen to like very much. So Cookie would probably put it somewhere rather private, where only an intimate encounter would find it."

  Buddy gave Chess a meaningful look.

  "Behind the ear, perhaps," Chess suggested.

  "Er, Cookie?" Buddy leaned forward, and Cookie uncertainly turned her head to bare her neck.

  Chess leaned forward as well, watching intently as the other man laid his forefinger against Cookie's neck.

  Ruth took a picture, capturing the strain in Chess's face as this transpired. Whatever Chess felt about his wife, it still fit in the possessive range.

  "Next you'd experience what we call the middle note," Chess said as both Cookie and Buddy turned to look at him. "That is the basic character of the fragrance, what gives it solidity."

  "You mean, if I sniff there now, behind Cookie's ear, that's what I'd smell?"

  Chess's eyes briefly blazed at the idea. "That's right."

  Buddy actually leaned forward as though about to do just that.

  Chess leaned forward as well.

  This time his gaze was so intense that Buddy shifted back in his chair with a laugh. "I think I'm going to let you tell us about the middle note, Chess. I'd just as soon live to see tomorrow."

  There was laughter on the set. Chess dropped his gaze and Ruth caught the brief moment with her camera.

  What on earth was going on? she wondered. Chess was no actor.

  When he lifted his eyes again, it was to look at Cookie. "You ready?"

  She didn't answer. She gave the impression that she couldn't.

  Ruth snapped shot after shot as they simply looked at each other. She only wished the camera could pick up the tension that was suddenly zinging around the room.

  Then Chess leaned toward Cookie. He put one big hand on her chin and gently turned it to the side as he brought his face closer.

  Snap, snap, snap. Ruth couldn't get her shutter to move fast enough. She couldn't believe this. The atmosphere of apprehension, of anticipation. These two were naturals, naturals! They were going to sell about a million bottles of perfume.

  Chess brought his nose behind Cookie's ear, his lips almost against her neck.<
br />
  Cookie's hands clasped in her lap. Her eyes closed tightly in an expression that was almost pain.

  Snap, snap, snap. From the bottom of her soul, Ruth prayed she wouldn't run out of film.

  "Hmm," Chess hummed, his nose still against her neck. "Just how I wanted it on you. A sharp cinnamon note with a soft background of clove." His lips were close enough to kiss her.

  Cookie, meanwhile looked very much like her picture in the advertisement: an image of sweet, sharp longing.

  Ruth stopped taking pictures as a sudden thought nearly stole her breath away.

  With obvious reluctance, Chess drew away from his wife's neck. He cleared his throat, still regarding a delicately blushing Cookie. Ostensibly, he addressed the talk show host. "Finally, there is what we call the base or end note. That's the one which will persist for hours after."

  Buddy's voice was dry. "Which, presumably, you will be checking out in the privacy of your own home later this evening."

  There was more laughter on the set, and Chess caught Cookie's hand on the arm of her chair. Down there, below the view of the cameras, their fingers interlaced.

  Ruth took a shot of those laced fingers while thinking. Chess was no actor at all, and right now Cookie, with her hand gripping his for dear life, was no more acting than Ruth was.

  "Now, how long did you say you've been married?" Buddy asked.

  Cookie's voice was hoarse. "Six weeks."

  "Six weeks," Buddy repeated. "And it looks like the honeymoon's still going strong."

  A sheepish grin broke out on Chess's face. Meanwhile, the crew laughed at this apparent truth.

  Ruth brought her camera up once again to preserve the moment in posterity: Chester Bradshaw was blushing.

  A few notes of music plonged. Buddy immediately began apologizing that that was all the time they had and thanked them both very much for coming.

  Ruth stood in the shadows and watched as Chess rubbed a relieved hand over his face and then stood to help Cookie to her feet. She saw the unmistakable tenderness in his face, what she hadn't been able to identify earlier, before the program. She saw it now.