As Amanda and Grady led their horses out of the barn, Amanda noticed Priscilla remove a small bottle of hand sanitizer from her pocket and give her hands a healthy squirt. Not that Amanda was dirty, but working in barns had taught her to cohabitate with grime. Another difference between her and the starlet.
It was a fifteen-minute ride from the barn to the big meadow. Once there, Amanda confessed she had something to tell Grady, and he told her the same thing.
“You first,” he said.
“Why do I have to go first?” She sighed. “Okay. Promise you won’t freak out.”
“What is it?”
“Promise!”
“I promise I won’t freak out.”
“It’s about Solstice.”
“What happened?” He sounded very much like someone starting to freak out.
“You promised not to freak out.”
“I’m not freaking out!”
“You sound like you’re freaking out.”
He spoke slowly, as though talking to someone with a tentative grasp of English. “I am not freaking out. Tell me.”
“She got her period this morning.”
He was stricken. “She did?”
She nodded. “And she’s very sensitive about it, so please don’t make it worse.”
“My little girl. God, soon she’ll be dating, and going out at ten o’clock, and staying out till dawn and sleeping till three. Oh God.” He sounded helpless. “What if she gets pregnant? I’m not ready for this.”
“Don’t forget getting regrettable tattoos and dating guys who aspire to deliver pizzas.” Seeing his graying face, she said, “Grady, she’s eleven. That stuff doesn’t happen until she’s at least . . . twelve.”
“What do I do? What do I say to her?”
“You could tell her I told you about the sheets—she stained her sheets and brought them to me to wash so nobody would know. Then she’d know you know, and you don’t have to talk about it anymore. Unless you want to talk to her about birth control, which might not be a bad idea.” She watched him blanch. “In several years . . . but seriously, you need to deal with this.”
“Oh my God,” Grady said, wretched. “I am not ready for this.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I told her she could ask me anything.”
“Thank you.” He rubbed his forehead with his fingers.
“She does trust you. I can tell you’re doing better with them, it’s just that this is . . . girl stuff.”
“She’s growing up. First a stylist, now this.”
“Do you think she should have a stylist?”
“No.”
“Then tell her no.”
“She says they’ll make fun of her at school.”
“You know how Titanium head-butts you so you’ll rub his face? She’s head-butting you.”
“Bullying is real. Haven’t you heard about suicides from bullying?”
“Yes. But those are rare and you’re getting closer than ever to your girls, so you’ll know if something’s seriously wrong. I love Solstice, but I wish I could train horses as well as she’s trained you. Just say no to stylists.”
“You love her?”
Amanda cleared her throat. Looked at him. “Yes. Your girls are really great. I care about them.”
“Huh.” A slow, beguiling smile curved his lips as he took this in.
“You know what you do? Give her a choice. When you train a horse, you give it a choice if you can, and make the choice what you want. Make the other thing harder or less desirable. Give Solstice a choice, and make the stylist the worst option.”
“Maybe she’ll forget. I’m not going to bring it up, but thanks for the training advice.”
“Any time. Now, what did you have to tell me?”
“Oh. Evidently I’m throwing a party on Saturday night for the Deadly Horizon debut—for the media—but you’re invited. It’ll be at the house.”
“Thanks. That’s why Priscilla’s here?”
“Yeah.”
“If I may . . . why did you break up? She’s incredibly beautiful. She seems nice.”
He looked at her. “We weren’t a good fit.”
“Who broke up with whom?” She suddenly had to know.
“I did.”
“You mean to tell me that you weren’t content just to get to stare at that face, not to mention the rest of her? I would think a guy would do anything to get to do that. And that voice! Hell, I want to have sex with her.”
He slid her a look. “If that ever happens, you must promise I get to watch. And give me a little credit. How shallow do you think I am?”
She squinted as though deep in thought. “Puddle?”
He grinned. “That was rhetorical. Yes, she’s gorgeous, but we didn’t work out. I know this will shock you, but I need more than a pretty face.”
“What happened?” Amanda tried to sound casual. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
He hesitated, as though deciding how much to tell her. She felt her stomach clench.
“It was too intense, and all the time. We met when she read for the part, and it was like, pow! Instant attraction.”
Amanda felt her liver and pancreas trade places.
He continued. “We were inseparable. I was in her trailer or she was in mine. For a while it was great, but when you’re with someone that much, that intensely . . . we fought. We’d yell and she’d throw things.” He smiled. “Once she tried to run me down with a golf cart. Then we’d make up and—”
“You don’t need to go into detail.”
“I wasn’t going to.” He raised an eyebrow. “I was going to say we’d make up and the cycle would start again. You can’t live like that, or at least I couldn’t. It was exhausting, like living on a roller coaster.”
“Was it hard to break up?”
“That was our biggest fight. She didn’t see the problem, and looking back, I was so into her, she talked me out of it several times. That’s how it was for a while, I’d try to break it off, she’d convince me we’d get better and I’d stay.”
And probably have incredible makeup sex, Amanda thought. She noticed her heart was beating faster than was warranted and it felt like other internal organs were shifting.
“We finally broke up for real when filming wrapped. She went to Australia for a new project and I was back in LA. It wasn’t pretty—she has a temper—but it was just a showmance.”
“Showmance?”
“Yeah, a romance during a show or shoot. Happens all the time. This one was intense, but that’s all it was.”
“So she wasn’t in love with you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “Did you . . . uh . . . were you, um . . . in love with her?”
Grady looked at her, squinting into the sun behind her. He took in a breath and let it out. “I thought I was, but I wasn’t. It was all . . . emotion without any foundation, if you know what I mean.”
“I think I do.” She combed Vern’s mane with her fingers. His black-and-white coloring reminded her of the many magpies that perched on fences or waited to eat crumbs at Aspen’s restaurants with outdoor seating. “But you’re friends now?”
“Yeah. We keep in touch. She’s been dating, and I’ve obviously moved on.”
Had he? Had Priscilla? Amanda pictured Priscilla’s hand on his butt in the barn.
“Oh,” he said, “Feel free to bring a guest to the party.” He paused. “Like that blacksmith.”
She was going to tell him the correct term was “farrier” and that she and Luke had broken up, but she saw something out of the corner of her eye. “Hawk!” She pointed. “See him, in that tree? Look how the sun hits his wing.”
Grady looked up at the red-tailed hawk.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” she said.
“Beautiful,” he said in a deep, smooth voice that made her look at him sharply. “Reminds me of someone.”
“No. She’s beautiful, but not l
ike a hawk. She’s more like—”
“Not Priscilla.” He stared at her. This time there was no twinkle, no hint of humor. This time his eyes were serious and unnerving. She felt something flutter in her middle, the way a galloping horse’s tail waved.
She nodded at Titanium’s head. “Gradually shorten your reins and ask him for a bigger stride. Let him know we’re starting to work.”
An hour later, when the lesson was done, Grady and Amanda rode back to the barn in silence. The only sounds were the birds and the horses’ hooves on the path.
“Hey,” he said, “why don’t you come up to the house for dinner tonight? You can meet my mom.”
Dinner would mean sitting there with Wave, Solstice, Grady, perhaps Harris and Jacqueline, Estelle and . . . Priscilla. She would have to watch Priscilla’s pristine, sterilized bird hands touch Grady all evening. And that would cement the certainty that Amanda wasn’t his type and never would be.
“What time?”
“Seven. And thanks. I owe you.” He tapped her thigh with his crop.
“For what?”
“What you did for Solsty . . . You really think I’m doing better with them?”
She smiled slightly and nodded. “Don’t you? They’re happier. And I bet they’re behaving better.”
“Yeah.”
“See? Boundaries aren’t evil. And being a good father isn’t about being their best friend. And no stylists!”
“I want to say I hate it when you’re right, but I don’t mind.”
“Smart boy.” She flashed him a grin. “I’m right a lot.”
“Tell me about it.” His eyes twinkled. “Hey, wanna race back to the barn?”
“No! That’s a terrible habit, and it’s hell to retrain. All those movies where they do that are awful examples of horsemanship. Same with those Westerns where they jump out of a second-story window onto the horse’s back.”
“Okay, okay, simmer down there, PETA girl. I asked, didn’t I?”
She was glad, frankly, to move to a safe topic. He’d been looking at her way too much lately and, worse, she was noticing and reacting. “Yes, you did ask. He can have a loose rein going back, but if he rushes, remind him to slow down.”
“I love it when you talk rein contact.” He gave her a devastating grin and she couldn’t stop her own smile, even as she rolled her eyes.
At dinner, Grady had hoped to sit next to Amanda at the table on the patio, but Priscilla practically forced him to sit at the head of the table, with her to his right and an empty space to his left, which Amanda assumed was for his mother. Priscilla wore a sundress that fulfilled the mission of every piece in her wardrobe, to showcase her full breasts and deep cleavage. The halter top of tonight’s dress did its job to stunning effect.
Wave and Solstice argued over who would sit next to Amanda until their father made them both sit across from her. Grady took in Amanda with a surreptitious once-over. She wore jeans, a black cotton blouse, and no makeup, but he found her every bit as sexy as—perhaps more so than—Priscilla, with her “natural” makeup that took an hour to apply, polished nails, and outfit that her stylist had doubtlessly assembled for her. He caught Amanda unbuttoning her blouse’s third button, probably for the first time in its life, and he smiled. She had gathered her damp, curly hair at the nape of her neck with a clip. A few wavy tendrils framed her face, and he wanted to tuck them behind her ears. Then kiss her.
Solstice mounted an early attack. “Priscilla, do you have a stylist?”
“I surely do. I couldn’t leave the house without knowing what to wear.”
“See?” Solstice said to Grady. “She has one.”
“You looking for a stylist?” Priscilla asked Grady.
“Not quite.”
“Mine is absolutely phenomenal. I’ll give you her number. I bet she’ll do the girls, too. You can’t start too early, right, Celeste?”
Solstice must’ve realized the starlet meant her, because she said, “Right!”
Priscilla returned her attention to Grady, talking to him and touching him every few moments. She positioned herself so he had no choice but to look at her décolletage, a trick she had perfected to the point where the uninitiated fell victim. He had wised up to her early on and refused to take the bait. It saddened him that a woman who was so successful sought so much approval and attention from men.
“Good evening, everyone,” Estelle said with her gracing-her-public smile as she posed in the doorway.
“Have a seat, Mom.”
Estelle looked disappointed that in order to sit next to her son, she’d have Amanda on her other side. She sat and unfurled her linen napkin.
“Mom, I’d like you to meet Amanda Vogel.” Amanda offered her hand and Estelle shook it, fake smile intact.
“And just who might you be?” Estelle asked.
“I—” Amanda started, but Wave cut her off.
“She’s our riding teacher. She’s the best riding teacher in the whole world.”
“She is,” Solstice said. “And she can ride any horse in the world.” Amanda rolled her eyes and blushed a little. As usual, Grady found her blush adorable.
“You guys,” Amanda said.
“How nice,” Estelle said, clearly unimpressed. That was his mother all over. If someone couldn’t help advance her cause du jour, she had no use for them and could be downright rude.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Brunswick,” Amanda said.
“We were lucky to get Amanda,” Grady said, irked with his mother. “She’s a famous, very successful jumper rider from Florida.”
“You don’t say,” Estelle said. “I’m afraid I’m not up on my horse celebrities. I prefer real ones.”
“Me, too. You must meet quite a few,” Amanda said, injecting just the right blend of fascination and awe. “Who are your favorites?”
Grady volleyed amused looks with Harris as Amanda kept up her charm offensive until Estelle was laughing and genuinely engaged. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Harris kept Estelle’s wineglass full.
Wave, Grady noticed, had eaten everything on her plate except the asparagus. Amanda got her attention from across the table.
“Psst. Wave!” she whispered. “You gonna eat that asparagus?”
“No.”
“What? And pass up the chance to make your pee smell funny? It’s the only food in the world that can do that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you didn’t know that? It’s crazy.”
“What’s it smell like?”
“You’ll see. You have to try it and see. It’s different for everybody.”
Wave picked up a spear and studied it. She bit the tapered end. Chewed. Took another bite. Chewed. And continued her methodical assault until her plate was empty.
Despite Priscilla’s chatter in his ear, Grady took in the entire exchange. It was astounding. Amanda was astounding.
For the rest of dinner, Grady had to pay attention to Priscilla to keep up with all her questions. She asked about the party, wondered aloud what to wear, asked what the stores were like in Aspen and would he take her into town, how was Harris doing, did Harris have a boyfriend, did the girls have boyfriends, did Estelle have a boyfriend, did Amanda have a boyfriend, when would Priscilla have time to sunbathe, did he know of a good manicurist, did he like her dress, could they go see the Maroon Bells because she’d heard about them (but only from the car because she didn’t want to walk around in dirt), did he buy this house because he liked to ski . . . After the verbal pummeling, the starlet talked about their romance and some of their experience while filming Deadly Horizon. Grady realized he had eaten his entire meal without noticing the food.
When Harris went to the kitchen for more wine and coffee, Amanda dashed after him.
“I need a lot more to drink,” she whispered to Harris. “It’s like they’re having a private dinner! Why didn’t they just have you bring something up to his room, where they could eat it off of each other?” Harris looked maddeni
ngly amused as he opened a bottle. Amanda walked around in a circle and put her hands on her face, covering her eyes.
“Bo Peep, why do you care? It has nothing to do with you.”
“You know what? I don’t care. They could do it right on the table and I wouldn’t care.”
“Chillax. She’s used to being the center of attention and having him hang on her every word. This is how she is. Hell, she’s like this with me.”
She looked at him with an expression of manufactured serenity. “It doesn’t matter, because I don’t care. He could choose to not hang on her every word. He could choose to not peer down her dress every two seconds. Evidently he invited me to dinner just to show me how fabulous she is, with her fascinating stories and . . . and . . . and . . . boobs!” she sputtered. “Well, he’s made his point. Not that I care. I wish them all the best.”
“Yeah, I can tell you don’t give a rat’s derriere.”
“In fact, I have a proposal of my own. In fact, I’m going to propose it right now.” She grabbed one of the open bottles and steamed to the patio.
“Who’d like more wine?” she asked merrily. She topped off glasses, then grabbed her own full glass and took the chair next to Priscilla. The starlet turned to face her, her huge, ice-blue eyes mesmerizing up close.
“Have you been to Aspen before?” Amanda asked.
“Not really.”
“I was thinking it would be fun to go out to dinner tomorrow night. If Grady’s up for it?” Amanda looked at him.
“Sure.”
“Great,” Amanda said and looked at Priscilla.
“It’s sweet of you to think of me. Thank you, Amanda.” Priscilla squeezed Amanda’s arm. “It will be nice to see how the locals live.”
Grady snorted. “Don’t worry—there’s a Chanel and a Prada store. They’re not complete savages up here.”
“It’ll be a lot of fun,” Amanda said, then smiled sweetly. “And if you want to ride, just let me know.”
Priscilla picked up a bottle of hand sanitizer and offered it to Amanda.
“No thanks.”
Amanda wondered if the sanitizer was the starlet’s attempt to truly micromanage her life. It must be hard to be a woman in Hollywood, because there was always someone younger coming up the ranks, ready to snap up your spot. You must have to control everything.
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