Superstar

by Southwell, T C

  "Are we?" She raised her eyes. "You seem rather distant."

  "This is what you wanted, isn't it? Friendship?"

  Carrin nodded, longing to tell him that she did not want this cold formality and distant politeness. She wanted a close, loving friendship, the next best thing to real love, without the inevitable problems that went with it. The words stuck in her throat, for she knew that if she spoke them there would be no end to the complications that followed. To admit her feelings would be to doom any hope of friendship between them. He would either try to use her emotions to gain himself a temporary bed-warmer, or scorn her for being like all the other women who found him irresistible. She had no choice but to accept what he offered, and hope that it would warm in time as his bitterness wore off. Mark watched her intently, and she forced a smile and stood up.

  "Well, you're tired, so I'll leave you to rest."

  He nodded. "I'll see you next week, on location."

  "Yes. Goodbye."

  As she reached the door, Rita appeared in it, and Mark called, "Rita, tell John to take Miss York back to her hotel."

  The young maid glanced uncertainly at Carrin's strained face. "Yes, Mr Lord."

  Carrin walked through the hall like a zombie, her face stiff as she struggled to hide her sadness and pain. It will blow over, she told herself, it will get better. He won't stay cross with you forever, he can't. Time heals even the worst wounds.

  John's expression told her that she was a lousy actress. His cheerful smile faded, and he helped her into the car. The paparazzi at the gates banged on the windows and shouted hopeful questions, evidently thinking that Mark was within, but John soon left them behind. He drove her to the hotel in silence, and she was glad that he was a tactful man.

  In her room, she sat in numb misery for a long time before she showered and went to bed. Her world had fallen apart. Her dreams, even merely of friendship, seemed on the brink of doom. All she could do now was to try and make up for her mistakes, then maybe they could return to the warm camaraderie that they had shared. Right now, however, she had to face a week without him, when she did not wish to be away from him at all.

  The days that followed were a nightmare for Carrin. Time dragged by at a snail's pace, and the shooting and re-shooting of scenes became utterly boring. She had little to say about anything, and when Harold asked her opinion she agreed with him, for most of the time she had not been paying attention anyway. Without Mark, the location was an empty, bitter place. The nights were cold and cheerless, and the days hot and sticky. The magic had gone out of her life, and it seemed dull and pointless. Janice made malicious comments, which Carrin ignored, and Warren's efforts to cheer her up were equally meaningless. Her guilt about Patsy did bother her, however. Even if Mark had been the one who had used her, she had been the reason for it, so she must share the blame for Patsy's pain.

  On Friday she found the girl alone under an awning, reading a magazine. Carrin walked over to her.

  "Hello, Patsy."

  The make-up girl looked up. "Oh, hi, Carrin."

  "Mind if I join you?"

  "No, have a seat."

  Carrin sat down and removed her sunglasses. "How are you?"

  "Couldn't be better."

  She did indeed look cheerful, and Carrin marvelled at her resilience. Still, she had to get this off her chest, and ploughed in. "I'm sorry about what Mark did to you; I know I was the cause."

  Patsy grinned. "Mark didn't do anything to me."

  "But surely... he led you on, to make me jealous. I thought you were crazy about him. When we spoke at the pool..."

  "Oh, no, I was in on it."

  Carrin stared at her, stunned. "You were in on it?"

  "Yes, of course. Hell, you don't think Mark would do a shitty thing like that, do you? He told me what he wanted to do right from the beginning. He asked me to help."

  "You were acting?"

  Patsy nodded. "I was pretty good, wasn't I?"

  "Yes."

  "See what he gave me." She held up a gold pendant that hung around her neck. It was shaped like a heart, with a tiny diamond at its centre. "To show his appreciation. Hell, I didn't want anything. It was great just to spend a weekend at his place. I'll live on that story all my life." She sighed. "He's such a great guy. I'd have given my eye teeth to have really been in that kind of a relationship with him, even if it had been only for a weekend. You're so lucky, Carrin."

  "I am?"

  Patsy snorted. "Oh, come on! Every woman in Hollywood wants to be in a relationship with Mark Lord, it's like the most common fantasy. Why did he want to make you jealous? You two have a fight or something?"

  "Or something."

  "Wow, if I had Mark Lord after me, I'd never pick a fight with him. He's crazy about you."

  No he isn't, Carrin thought bitterly. At the moment, he doesn't even want to be friends with me because I bruised his ego. He just can't stand to lose a battle. Failure is not in his nature, he's proved that by becoming a superstar, and he was determined that some little no-account writer would not beat him. Maybe she had won the battle, but lost the war.

  "How is he, anyway?" Patsy asked, and Carrin marshalled her thoughts.

  "He's fine."

  "Boy, he gave us all such a fright. We were worried sick about him."

  Carrin nodded, then excused herself and wandered away to think about this latest revelation. If Mark's attempt to make her jealous had not been a spur of the moment seduction of a vulnerable girl, but rather a calculated, planned action involving Patsy's co-operation, was his coldness towards her now yet another ploy? Was he trying to show her that friendship was not all it was cracked up to be, so that she would opt for the other option and enter into one of his temporary, doomed relationships? He must have some idea that she felt something for him; otherwise neither of those plans would work, or was he just such an egotistical bastard that he couldn't believe that he had met a woman who was immune to his charms?

  Of course, he had not, but she was certain that she had hidden her feelings successfully. It seemed that Mark Lord did not have a spontaneous bone in his body, or any feelings at all. Everything he did was cold and calculated to get what he wanted, and she had almost fallen for it. Another Oscar-winning performance from the great superstar, Mark Lord. Carrin gritted her teeth. Why did she have to love such a cold-hearted, manipulative man? She had spent almost a week in abject misery because of his damned change of tactics. Beneath her simmering anger ran a cold tide of sorrow. Their friendship would not become real until he gave up his attempts to add her to his collection of conquests.

  Carrin's new knowledge bolstered her through the final day of filming, and she returned to her hotel with Warren. At the front desk, the clerk handed her a message, and she tore it open.

  'Carrin. I will send John for you tomorrow at two. Mark.'

  Of all the gall! Did he think that by now she would be so desperate to see him that she would obey such curt summons? Remembering the misery that she had suffered all week, she probably would have, if Patsy had not given the game away. Now she was tempted to ignore his message and make sure she was not in tomorrow.

  All evening she thought about it, weighing her wish to pay him back for his tricks against her longing to see him. By the time she went to bed, her longing had won. A strong curiosity also affected her decision. He had said that he would see her next week, and now he wanted to see her tomorrow, why? Had he decided to change tactics again? Had he expected her to give in before this, and come running to him to beg forgiveness and admit her feelings for him rather than face his coldness? Now that she hadn't, what was he going to try?

  John's glum look surprised Carrin when he picked her up the next day. He hardly smiled when she greeted him, and he looked even more mournful at her cheeriness. She was tempted to question him, but decided not to; she would find out soon enough. An equally grim Rita showed her into the study, which was empty. Was she now getting the unwelcome treatment too? Was this the next stage of
Mark's plan? Soon the door opened, and Mark entered. He looked fully recovered, she was pleased to note, his tired look gone. In fact, he was remarkably cheerful.

  "Hello, Carrin. Glad you could make it. Sit down. Would you like some coffee? A cool drink?"

  "No thanks." She sank into a chair, the sight of him making her knees weak.

  He seemed excited, even a little agitated, and stood irresolutely by the door. "Excuse me for a moment, will you? I'll be back in a second."

  Mark turned and left again, and she stared after him in confusion. What was he up to now? She did not have to wait long for the answer. Moments later he reappeared, this time towing a raven-haired beauty Carrin instantly recognised. Helen! The ex-maid looked radiant, her face wreathed in smiles as she gazed at Mark with adoring eyes. Carrin's heart sank into her shoes. Mark returned Helen's adoring look with a gentle, seductive smile. Helen positively fawned, clinging to his hand with both of hers. At first she did not notice Carrin, but when she did her expression changed to one of smug malice.

  "Helen, darling, you remember Miss York, don't you?" Mark's voice throbbed with love. Carrin's heart sank even further, and she regarded the pair with a jaundiced eye.

  Helen smiled like a cat that had just polished off the cream and the goldfish too. "Of course. It's nice to see you again."

  Carrin nodded. "Hello, Helen."

  Mark guided Helen to a chair and seated her in it as if she was made of porcelain. He seemed hardly able to take his eyes off her, and they shone with tenderness. Helen lapped it up, returning his look and stroking his sleeve as he sat beside her on the couch. He stroked her cheek.

  "My sweet, you remember what we talked about last night?"

  She glanced at Carrin. "Of course, sweetheart."

  "Good. I've asked Miss York here so that we can clear the matter up. My reputation depends on you, darling."

  Helen shot Carrin a sour glance. "Well, I didn't think Miss York was one for spreading tales."

  Carrin opened her mouth to deny that, but Mark was faster. "She feels it's her civic duty to warn people about me, my angel."

  Helen's lip curled in scorn. "Anyone who would believe a thing like that's a fool."

  "You did a good job of convincing her, darling."

  Helen smirked. "I did, didn't I?" She turned to address Carrin in a condescending tone. "Well, Miss York, Mark didn't beat me. He would never do a thing like that. For your information, he's the sweetest, kindest man alive. I went to a friend who's a make-up artist and had her make me look like that."

  "Why?"

  "Because I was jealous." Helen shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I thought Mark was interested in you, so I erased your file. Then when he fired me, I was convinced that he was after you in a big way, so I decided to get my own back. I figured that if you thought he was the kind of man who beat up women, you wouldn't want anything to do with him. So, if he didn't want me, he couldn't have you either."

  Carrin sat back. "I see. And now?"

  Helen flashed Mark a coy smile. "As you can see, Mark came to his senses. He realised after I left that I was the only woman for him, and -"

  "Thank you, Helen," Mark interrupted, and Helen stared at him, as did Carrin. It was as if a mask had dropped from his features, the change in him was so dramatic. Cold anger replaced the loving look in his eyes. His mouth, which had been curled in a slight, seductively gentle smile, was a hard line, reflecting the grimness in his tone. He disengaged himself from Helen's hands and stood up.

  "You may leave us now."

  Helen rose slowly, looking stunned and horrified. Her eyes pleaded with him, and she reached for him, but he turned his back on her.

  "Mark, what's the matter?"

  He turned to glare at her. "As if you don't know. Your little stunt caused me a lot of trouble. The only way to rectify your meddling was to get you to admit the truth, and to do that I needed your co-operation. What better way to get it than to convince you that you had succeeded? Believe me; I wouldn't consider even being friends with a lying, conniving woman like you, never mind anything else."

  Helen gasped and paled, swaying. Carrin thought that she would pass out, and Mark watched her coldly.

  Helen gulped. "You mean you tricked me? This was all an act?"

  He nodded.

  She stared at him, her colour returning in two spots on her cheeks. "You bastard! How could you play such a dirty trick?"

  Mark shrugged. "It was no dirtier than the trick you played on Carrin, was it?"

  Helen's eyes shimmered with tears, and she stepped towards him, reaching for him again. He clasped his hands behind his back, and she gripped the lapels of his jacket.

  "Don't do this to me, please! I'm sorry I tricked her. I was desperate! Don't you understand? I've loved you for so long, but you never looked at me twice! I wasn't thinking straight!"

  "You reap what you sow, in this case, unhappiness."

  Helen bowed her head and clung to him, her forehead pressed against his chest. He turned his head away, and Carrin glimpsed the emotion on his visage. Pity? Sorrow?

  Helen raised a tear-streaked face. "Don't do this, please?"

  He looked at her, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "I helped you. I gave you a job and tried to help you to become a model, which is what you said you wanted. But you spoilt every interview I arranged. You didn't want a career, you wanted me. When you didn't succeed, you turned on me like a viper, and now you want me to feel sorry for you?"

  Helen stared at him, her expression hardening. "You bastard." She stepped back and slapped him with a ringing crack, jerking his head to the side. He did not even look at her.

  "I hope you rot in Hell for this, Mark Lord!" She swung to face Carrin. "Now you see what he's really like! He's a monster! He takes pleasure in hurting the women who love him. He'll never love anyone. He just uses them; he'll take your love and throw it in your face when he's finished."

  Mark grabbed her arm and pushed her towards the door. "That's enough."

  Helen shouted over her shoulder, "Don't give him the satisfaction! He's broken more hearts than any man alive. That's his idea of fun!"

  Mark jerked open the door and frog-marched Helen out into the hall, slamming the door behind him to cut off her venomous shrieks.

  Carrin stared at the door, her mind whirling. He had indeed proved to her that Helen had lied and tricked her, but at the same time he had just done to Helen exactly what Carrin suspected him of trying to do to her. He had fooled Helen, made her think he loved her with his ability to act, so that he could get what he wanted from her. He had proved how easily he could play the part of an ardent lover, when nothing could be further from the truth. Carrin swallowed the sour sting of bile. His duplicity was astounding.

  Mark returned, closing the door behind him. He looked rattled, and went over to the drinks cabinet to pour a stiff scotch, draining it in a gulp. A red mark marred his cheek, and he rubbed it as he turned to her.

  "Well, have I proved to you that I don't beat up women?"

  She nodded, and he poured another drink before walking over to a chair and flopping into it.

  "Boy, she packed quite a wallop."

  "What did you do with her?"

  "Don't worry; I didn't stuff her down the garbage disposal or anything. John's taking her home."

  "Well, then I'll have to call a taxi." She got up.

  Mark stared up at her. "You're leaving?"

  "Yes. You proved your point, as you said, but I think what you did to Helen was just as bad."

  He stood, putting down his glass. "She deserved it. What I did to her wasn't as bad as what she did. She tricked you out of spite - sheer malice. I just made her tell the truth. How else could I do it? If I had offered her money, you'd have said that she would tell you anything I wanted. It was the only way to do it without coercion."

  "She's in love with you. That's why she did what she did, out of jealousy and pain, because you didn't love her in return. What cou
ld be crueller than using that against her?"

  He snorted. "She doesn't love me! She's just after what I've got."

  "How do you know that? She looked pretty upset to me."

  "Because she hadn't won, as she thought. That was anger you saw, not hurt. Helen wants fame and money, the glory of being involved with a famous person and rubbing shoulders with celebrities."

  Carrin rubbed her brow. "Maybe you're right, I don't know anymore. I just want to go back to my hotel." She headed for the door.

  "Wait." Mark came after her, blocking her way. "Why do you think I went to all this trouble? Not just to have you walk out on me."

  "No, to prove your point."

  "Yes, to prove to you that I'm not a man who hits women, a monster, like you thought I was."

  Carrin raised her chin and met his eyes. "Instead you're a man who deceives women, leads them on, uses their emotions to get what he wants, then tosses them aside, just like Helen said. That was a stunning performance, Mark, bravo!"

  He stared at her. "My god, I've just dug an even bigger hole for myself, haven't I?"

  "Yes, you have."

  "I didn't enjoy doing that, I hated it. I only did it because I care about you. If I didn't, do you think I would have gone to all that trouble? Why would I care about what you thought of me, if I didn't want something more from you than just friendship?"

  "Oh, I know what you want from me; I just can't believe the lengths you're prepared to go to, to get it."

  Mark reached out and grasped her shoulders, his eyes intent, making her long to look away, but she could not. "I don't just want to seduce you; I could have done that any time. I know you feel something for me; I've glimpsed it in your eyes, though you've tried very hard to hide it. Why can't you see that I feel the same way about you?"

  His words cut her to the core, like knives of fire slashing at her heart and the fragile dream that sheltered there. He was tearing it apart with his lies, and the pain forced burning tears into her eyes.

  "Stop it, Mark," she gritted.

  For a long moment he stared at her, then he released her and stepped back. "Okay. I'm rushing you. You're angry and upset, I can see that. I don't particularly want to have my face slapped again." He ran a hand through his hair. "There's no need to call a taxi, I'll take you back to the hotel myself."