by P J Gordon
“Not all interviewers are that fair and gracious,” he explained to Manda. “Curt did us a huge favor. He’s really looking out for you.”
Allowing herself to be dragged out of her comfort zone was, by definition, uncomfortable for Manda. By mid-March she’d been to so many awards ceremonies that the red carpets, beautiful dresses, and famous faces had all started to blur together, yet the only part she had truly enjoyed had been watching Richard and Josh accept their three Grammy awards. Well, the gowns that she’d worn had been nice, too. She’d felt like a fairytale princess each time, complete with a handsome, tuxedo-clad Prince Charming by her side, and she had said as much to Richard.
Emily and Katie put together a scrapbook of her newspaper and magazine clippings, as well as any stories Katie found and printed off from the internet. The speed with which the book grew, even with Katie editing out any false or unkind stories, seemed to indicate that their attempts at saturation-level publicity were working. The photographer that Jen had hired for them was very good. He had worked for two former presidents and knew what kind of pictures the press loved. Richard and Manda gave him extensive access to their lives and edited the resulting images with great restraint. By making the resulting comprehensive library of photos freely available, the number of photographers plaguing Manda dwindled quickly. Curt had been right—publishers and television outlets weren’t willing to pay for images when they could get better ones for free. Rewarding the most respectful and courteous of the remaining reporters and photographers with her cooperation also had a profound impact on their behavior. The frenzied mobs all but vanished, replaced by more orderly and manageable groups that waited for Richard and Manda in the places where they had proven to be the most receptive…outside the hotel, at public events, or in the plaza in front of the Aronson office’s building. They quickly learned that her home was out of bounds and provided few or no photo opportunities. There were exceptions though, and one notable incident at her home highlighted the value of the security system that Mikey and Richard had arranged. She and Richard had been enjoying one of their “off of the radar” evenings at her house when the alarms had gone off. Richard had reacted immediately. Instructing Manda to lock the door to the garage behind him and then stay away from the windows, he transformed into Rigel, shook off his slightly torn clothes, and dashed into the garage with a warning growl for Manda. Manda collected his clothes, silenced the audible alarm, and waited nervously for some news. Adrenaline had her on edge and she paced impatiently. When the phone rang, she jumped and her heart skipped a beat. It was the security service Richard had hired for her, checking on her safety and letting her know that the police were on their way. A short while later the doorbell rang just as Richard scratched on the garage door and barked. When she let him in, he nudged her toward the front door.
“Is it the police?” she asked, just to be sure. He nodded his shaggy head and then stood close by her side as she opened the door. Two police officers stood on her front porch. At the curb, another officer stood watch over a handcuffed man who was seated on the edge of the sidewalk, while a fourth officer was talking with a man in a jogging suit and taking notes.
As one of the officers on the porch explained the situation to her, Manda’s hand found Richard’s thickly furred shoulder beside her. He leaned against her leg, offering his silent encouragement. The man now in handcuffs had apparently tried to get in through one of Manda’s basement windows. The alarm had frightened him off, but the man in the jogging suit had heard the alarm and seen the would-be burglar jumping her fence as he fled. Jogging man, who Manda now recognized as a new neighbor who had moved in across the street and down the block a few months back, had tackled the fleeing man and held him until the police arrived.
After ascertaining that Manda was indeed safe and unharmed, the police on the front porch split up—one checked the outside of her house while the other checked the interior. Manda trailed after the inside officer as he examined her windows and doors, while Richard remained glued to her side. The graying officer noted the high-end alarm system with an approving whistle.
“You have an excellent system, Miss Jensen. We don’t see many of these, but if I could afford it this is what I’d get for my daughter. Between this and your friend there,” he gestured at Richard, “you’re in pretty good hands.”
Manda caressed the top of Richard’s head. “Yes, he takes very good care of me.”
“Well, we’ll be in the area for the rest of the night too, just in case,” he said with a smile. “If you notice anything unusual or have any more problems, we can be here in just a few minutes. We’ll keep an eye on things throughout the night anyway.”
One of the other officers updated them on handcuffed man, who was by all indications a self-styled investigative reporter looking for something he could sell for a quick buck. After the police left with handcuffed man, and jogging man had gone home, Richard/Rigel made his own, more comprehensive inspection of her house and yard. When he was finally satisfied, back in his own form, and clothed once more, he made a surprisingly brief phone call to Mikey, then slept on Manda’s sofa all night. He stayed until Mark arrived the next morning to take her to work, yet still managed to be waiting for her when she stepped out of the car downtown. She envied him for not having to put up with the slow-moving morning traffic, as she now did.
The character of her daily commute had changed drastically. Richard had vetoed her use of public transportation, so Mark had been assigned the responsibility of getting her back and forth to work every day. The exception, of course, was when she and Richard had plans after work…which was often. The few nights when they didn’t have plans were almost always “off-the-radar” nights, when Richard would visit her house in secret via the hidden dog door. Her birthday was one such night.
David had told Josh about Manda’s birthday, and Josh had in turn told Richard, who confronted Manda accusingly.
“Were you not planning on telling me?”
“No, I wasn’t,” she replied tartly. “And I’ll have to punish David for opening his big mouth. He had very strict orders to keep it shut.” She glared at the owner of the offending mouth.
“Ooo, I’m terrified,” David responded sarcastically. They were all eating lunch at the table in the creative area and David stuffed several French fries into his mouth to punctuate his complete lack of concern.
“You know, this only leaves me a couple of days to find the perfect gift,” Richard complained. “Luckily I have a few ideas. I love that your birthday is on Valentine’s Day. It’s like you were God’s Valentine’s gift to me.”
“All I’ve ever gotten was a pair of boxer shorts with red hearts on them,” David lamented.
“That’s still more than I’ve ever gotten,” Josh countered, doing his best to look pathetic and sad.
“Oh, please!” Richard snorted, ruining his brother’s little ploy for pity. “Women from all over the world send you presents and love letters every day, and it’s ten times worse around Valentine’s Day. I’m sure you’ve got a big bag of mail waiting for you right now!”
Josh abandoned his forlorn act and winked at Manda. “It’s true, but it’s not the same as getting something from someone you care about, and don’t let him fool you. He gets as much stuff mailed to him as I do…and it’s not always G-rated. One time someone…”
“Josh!” Richard interrupted. “I really don’t need you telling my girlfriend about my X-rated fan mail, and you know I never even look at that stuff.
“Sheila and Marta take care of it,” he added in an embarrassed aside to Manda. “They work for the record label.”
“I’ll take care of it for you for free,” David said with an over-the-top leer.
Manda threw a French fry at him. “Remind me to send Sheila and Marta a thank you card,” she said with a comically disapproving and prim expression, “for protecting my boyfriend’s virtue. Maybe you should do it, since we all know you don’t have any virtue left. But then ag
ain, it’s probably better to have somebody discreet handling it, and you obviously can’t keep your mouth shut!”
Chapter 32
On the day of her birthday, Richard treated her to a gourmet breakfast at the hotel and an office filled with roses, and then said that he would meet her at her house after work and told her not to ask any questions. When Mark dropped her off at home that evening, Richard was waiting for her. Her house was illuminated by countless candles and the air was heavily scented by the dozens of roses and other flowers that graced every room on the main floor. Richard was waiting in the dining room in his tuxedo beside a table that was set with her best china. Soft music was playing and mouthwatering smells were coming from the kitchen.
“Oh, my!” she breathed, gazing wide-eyed around the flower bedecked room.
“Happy Birthday, my beautiful Valentine,” he greeted her. He took her bag from her and set it aside before pulling her close. “I hope you’re hungry,” he whispered into her ear after his kiss had left her breathless.
Manda hesitated. “Would you mind if I go freshen up a bit first? Is there time?”
“Of course. We’ve got a few minutes.”
“I’ll hurry,” Manda promised as she raced up the stairs. Once in her bedroom she quickly kicked off her shoes and dived into her closet. Richard looked heartbreakingly handsome in his tuxedo and by comparison she felt absolutely scruffy. She’d have to fix that.
Her closet had until very recently been much bigger than her wardrobe, but necessity had caused her wardrobe to expand over the last month. Emily had taken her shopping for formal wear more than once, treating her like her own personal life-sized dress-up doll.
“If you’re going to be attending all of these formal functions with Richard, you’re going to need the clothes,” her sister had insisted.
Manda was grateful for those shopping expeditions as she searched through the treasure trove of beautiful clothes that filled her closet now. There was one dress she’d been saving for a special occasion, and tonight definitely qualified. It had seemed extravagant when she bought it, but had looked so good on her that Emily had refused to let her leave the store without it. When she found it at the back of her closet she laid it across her bed, vowing to thank Emily, and hurried to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and hair and freshened her makeup, then stripped off her jeans and sweater, trading them for the strapless azure cocktail dress and a pair of precariously high heels. After a minor struggle with the zipper, she checked her reflection in the mirror one last time. Satisfied, she rejoined Richard, descending the stairs much more sedately than she’d ascended.
He met her at the bottom of the stairs with a much more than affectionate kiss before visibly reigning himself in and leading her to the table.
“You don’t play fair,” he growled playfully as he placed her napkin in her lap and brushed a feather light kiss across her bare shoulder.
“I never claimed I did,” she retorted with a laugh, “but what have I done tonight that’s so unfair?”
“You came down those stairs looking like that,” he accused. His eyes travelled deliberately down the length of her body and then returned to her face. “If I’d known just how sexy you were going to look I would have brought a chaperone.”
“Then maybe I’ve leveled the playing field a little,” Manda replied, “after I come in and find you looking like that. That’s what’s not fair! If you’re going to look so good, maybe you should have brought a chaperone.” Manda gave Richard the same visual once-over he’d given her and then met his eyes with a wicked grin.
His answering smile was seductive—what Emily called a bedroom smile. He leaned in so close that his lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “So, are you hungry now?” His warm breath caressed her neck and made her shiver. She couldn’t think of a clever response to his suggestive question, so she sat motionless and wide-eyed, trying to remember how to breathe. “I hope so,” he continued in the same pulse-quickening whisper, and then pressed a quick kiss to her temple and grinned, “because I’ve been cooking for hours and it’s gonna get cold if we don’t get started.” He turned toward the kitchen and the breath Manda had been holding escaped as laughter.
The dinner that Richard had prepared was impressive and far better than anything Manda had ever made. In fact, she couldn’t recall ever eating anything as good before, but then maybe that was just her own bias toward the chef. When he brought dessert and coffee (Manda had invested in a coffee pot, in light of Richard’s fondness for the drink), he very casually placed a wrapped package beside her plate and returned to his chair. He took a sip of his coffee before looking at her and smiling.
“Happy Birthday, sweetie. Go ahead and open it.”
Manda didn’t need any further encouragement. She tore off the paper to reveal a flat, square jeweler’s box, then paused to savor the anticipation for a moment before opening the lid. Inside, nestled in black velvet, was a heart-shaped sapphire on a silver chain. The brilliant blue stone glittered in the candlelight. It was wrapped tightly with fine silver wire, as if tied with silver threads.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. Her voice came out an octave higher than she intended—really more of a surprised squeak. “Oh, Richard! It’s beautiful. I love it!”
“Put it on,” he requested. “I want to see how it looks.” Manda fastened the fine chain around her neck and Richard nodded his approval. “Perfect. You captured my heart and now it will be next to yours.”
Manda held the sapphire heart in her fingers and pretended to admire it as she tried to blink away tears. “Thank you,” she said in an almost steady voice. “Now I have something for you.”
“But it’s not my birthday,” Richard protested as Manda slipped off her high heels and dashed up the stairs barefooted.
“No, but it is Valentine’s Day,” she called back down. She retrieved the tiny package from her dresser drawer and hurried back down to the dining room. She sat the small box beside Richard’s coffee cup and returned to her chair. Another box had replaced the necklace box beside her plate.
“You first,” Richard prompted, not giving her a chance to tell him the same thing. She tore into the oddly heavy package without delay, partly because she was dying to know what was inside and partly because she was eager to see Richard open his gift. She laughed with delight when she finally uncovered the object inside. She removed it from its box and sat it on the table very gently—her extra care being more for her furniture than the gift.
It was a bronze sculpture done by an artist whose work Manda had admired in a local gallery before Christmas. It wasn’t a piece she’d seen before though. It was a very stylized depiction of a tiger and a woman. It stood about six inches high, and the pacing tiger was curved sinuously around the fluid shape of the standing woman, whose hand was outstretched, reaching toward the tiger but not quite touching him.
“Did you have this commissioned?” Manda asked as she caressed the smooth curves of the small statue with her fingertips.
“I commissioned the necklace, but I just got incredibly lucky on the sculpture. I remembered how much you liked that artist, so I contacted the gallery and they put me in touch with him. He was showing me some of his pieces and as soon as I saw this one I had to get it for you.”
“It’s amazing! It couldn’t be more perfect. I love it. Thank you.” Her words seemed inadequate, so she circled the table to express her gratitude with a kiss. Richard captured her around the waist and pulled her down onto his lap, savoring her display of appreciation.
“I’m glad you like it,” he chuckled, holding her close. “Now, shall I open mine?” He twirled the small box in his fingers. “I’m dying to see what’s inside.”
She sat up in his arms a little. “Yes! Definitely. I hope you like them.”
With a few quick flicks of his fingers he had the paper off and the box open, revealing the platinum cufflinks inside. Manda had them made especially for Richard. Each one was embossed with the Raines Foundation lo
go. It had taken on new significance to her since she’d learned Richard and Josh’s secret. She understood now why Richard had been so amused by it. The combined hand and paw prints of the logo were almost a personal icon for him, and as the symbol of the Foundation, no one would ever question his use of it. The secret meaning delighted Manda though.
Richard seemed to be as delighted with it as Manda was. He threw back his head and laughed, and then promptly replaced the ones he was already wearing with the new ones. “These are unbelievable, Manda. I love them. Thank you. I’ll get a lot of use out of them. Now, I have something else for you, for your birthday.”
“But you’ve already given me so much!” Manda protested. “Two presents, breakfast, dinner, and hundreds of flowers! It’s too much!”
“That wasn’t all for your birthday though,” Richard corrected. “Breakfast, the flowers in your office, and the sculpture were for Valentine’s Day. Besides, this isn’t actually a present. I wrote you a song.” He stood up and situated Manda in his vacant chair. Then he retrieved his guitar from behind a chair in the family room.
“I’ve written a few that were about you, but I wrote this one especially for you. It’s called ‘Fairy Tale.’” He sat down in the chair beside Manda and began to play and sing.
With once upon a time it starts—
The stories never change.
The prince arrives and all is well,
So, happy ends the beauty’s tale.
You never hear the prince’s plight,
Alone and locked away,
Through endless nights and darkened days
Inside his castle walls he stays.
You rescued me. You set me free.
The beauty saved the prince.
You’re my happily ever after.