by Susan Lewis
His eyes opened and he seemed confused for a moment. Then, lifting a hand to her face he said, ‘You’re beautiful.’
Smiling, she said, ‘So are you. And you’re very tired too, so why don’t you get into bed?’
He cocked a comical eyebrow and she guessed that had he been able he’d have treated her to some of his more droll English humour. As it was, all he managed was a mere, ‘Only if you come with me,’ and minutes later he was fast asleep again with a single sheet covering their loosely entwined bodies.
Chapter 19
THREE DAYS HAD gone by since Michael had spent the night at Ellen’s apartment and she hadn’t heard from him once. It was so incredible she could hardly make herself accept that the silence was real. It just didn’t seem possible after the way they had made love that he could have left so abruptly the next morning, already an hour late for a meeting, and made no attempt to get in touch after. There had been no time for breakfast, not even a shower, as he’d pulled on his clothes, kissed her briefly on the cheek and run out the door. She was sure he’d said something about calling her later, but whether she’d imagined that or not was irrelevant now, as there had been no word from him at all and were it not for the anger and hurt she was feeling she might have believed she’d made the whole night up. Indeed, she almost wished she had, for the memory of the way she had shed her clothes at a mere touch of his lips was almost too excruciating to bear. But it had felt so right at the time, so very much what she wanted and what he wanted too. It was probably crazy to think it, but it had felt like the coming together of two people who had already waited too long for something that was quite simply meant to be. Such was the power of self-delusion.
It was now the night before the première of United We Fall and whether she was still supposed to be going with him she had no idea. In truth she didn’t really know if he was still in town, for nothing in the world would induce her to call his hotel to find out. OK, she only had to speak to the telephone clerk, but her pride wouldn’t even allow her to do that. Or perhaps it wasn’t pride as much as fear, for she didn’t know which was worse: that he might still be here and ignoring her, or that he had left without as much as a goodbye. Of course he had to be here because of the première and he was no doubt rushed off his feet, dashing from one meeting to the next, wining and dining producers, actors, directors, distributors, newspaper editors, talk show hosts, you name it, but she didn’t see how any of it prevented him picking up a phone, so unless he was hospitalized or dead, no excuse was going to be good enough to get her to forgive him for treating her like this. At least it wouldn’t have been until this evening, but now, as the countdown to the première began, she could feel her resolve starting to waver in a way she just knew she was going to end up regretting.
She hated herself for it, but having spent the entire weekend smarting with fury, she was now so dangerously close to tears that it was all that was stopping her picking up the phone. The last thing she wanted was for him to hear the hurt and apprehension in her voice and besides, if he did still want her to go to the première he’d have called by now. So she had her answer already. She’d give anything to be able to speak to Matty, but Ted Forgon had called her into his office today and told her he wanted to let Matty go. That had been the opener for what had turned out to be the day from hell. Threatening to drop Matty was another test of her mettle, Ellen was sure of that, but coming out of the blue the way it had, when she’d been convinced Forgon was calling her in to discuss Michael, had thrown her completely. In fact, she was so shocked by his failure to mention Michael at all, when he must have known Michael was in town, that the fight she’d put up to protect Matty was so shaming she wasn’t sure she could face her cousin until she’d managed to put it right. Which she would, for there was just no way she was firing Matty from the agency, unless she herself walked, of course, which she was getting closer to every day.
After the blow about Matty and the disappointment of not being instructed to get to work on Michael, which, if nothing else, would have provided her with an excuse to contact him, she had received a call from Foster McKenzie that had left her in no doubt what he was expecting as gratitude for allowing her to bring off the deal for Walker Nicolas. Incensed by his assumption and outraged that he rated her along with the airheads of the industry, she’d ended up putting the phone down on him, which might not have been the wisest move she’d ever made, but it was definitely one of the more satisfying. At lunch-time some uninsured maniac had rammed her precious Pontiac while she was on her way to a meeting with Mel Gibson’s managers, making her an hour late and liable to pay the two thousand dollars of damage out of her own pocket. She’d failed to get one of her more celebrated clients the lead in a new Levinson movie, her secretary had announced she was leaving and her mother had called to say her father was unwell. It was probably no more than a bad case of flu, but with the way things were between her and her father it was a constant fear of Ellen’s that something would happen to him before they repaired things.
So now, here she was, having backed out of the cocktails she was supposed to be at, sitting in a corner of the sofa hugging a cushion to her chest and wishing the whole damned world would go away. Better still, she wished the god-damned phone would ring and Michael McCann would be at the other end. She liked to think she would tell him where to go, but feeling as bruised by the day as she did, his shoulder to cry on would have been more than welcome. But it obviously wasn’t going to happen and as the minutes ticked by and the phone remained obdurately silent the disappointment became more crushing than ever.
A jolt of impatience suddenly jerked her to her feet and snatching up the phone she carried it out to the veranda. Her heart was pounding as anger eclipsed her self-pity and drove her into action. She was done mooning around here like some faint-hearted Freda, wallowing in all the reasons she couldn’t get on with her life. Michael McCann was obviously already history, so if sleeping with Foster McKenzie was her only way out of ATI then she was damned well going to get things moving. Like Rosa said, he wasn’t so bad and when it came to the giants in this town they didn’t come much bigger than McKenzie. So, give the man what he wants and in exchange take his protection from Forgon. For God’s sake, she wouldn’t be the first woman to get to the top this way, and who could say, if she played it real smart she might just end up the next Mrs Foster McKenzie with the private jet, half dozen homes, luxury yachts and unlimited kudos that went with it.
She had just connected with McKenzie’s private number when there was a knock on the door. Irritated beyond measure at being interrupted, she threw down the phone and went back inside. It would either be Matty, whom security had been instructed to let through without calling up first, or one of her neighbours wanting to know if she could make the next residents’ meeting. Either way, it wasn’t going to be anyone she wanted to see right now and God damn to oblivion the vain and pathetic hope that had just entered her head that it might actually be Michael McCann.
Pulling open the door, she was on the point of claiming an untenable workload when the words dried on her lips and her jaw dropped open.
‘Surprise!’ Clay cried, a bottle of champagne in one hand a half-dozen roses in the other. His silvery hair was pulled back in a pony tail and his slender, handsome face was beaming with pleasure. ‘How’re you doing, babe? I missed you,’ he said.
Ellen was too dumfounded to speak, or even to think.
He laughed. ‘So, you going to invite me in?’ he said. ‘Or,’ he added with a wink, ‘we going to give the neighbours a show?’
Ellen’s eyes widened in disbelief. ‘What are you doing here?’ she finally managed. ‘How did you get in?’
His famously sensuous eyes were steeped in mischief. ‘Hey, I’m Clay Ingall,’ he reminded her. ‘Why would they stop me?’
Ellen’s face immediately showed her anger, but he appeared oblivious.
‘You’re looking great,’ he told her and dropped his eyes pointedly to her bare mi
driff. ‘Better than ever.’
‘Clay, you’re not welcome,’ she told him bluntly.
‘Oh come on,’ he grinned. ‘I got champagne here. You know how you love champagne.’
‘Not your champagne,’ she retorted.
He looked injured. ‘Honey, I came to say I was sorry,’ he said, the vaguest hint of rebuke in his voice.
‘Apology accepted. Goodbye.’
She made to slam the door but he jammed it open with his foot, and pushing past her, sailed right on into the kitchen.
‘Clay. Didn’t you hear me?’ she snapped, leaving the door open as she followed him. ‘I don’t want you here. We’re through, remember? You’re the one who ended it.’
‘Big mistake,’ he told her, opening and closing the cupboard doors as he hunted for glasses. ‘Yep, it sure was a big mistake. But I’m back now, honey, and boy have we got some making up for lost time to do.’
Ellen was speechless. ‘Did you lose your mind?’ she cried finally. ‘There’s no lost time to be made up for here. It’s over.’
‘Uh, uh,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You and me, we can’t be over. We got something going, something real good, you know that.’
Ellen suddenly saw red. ‘Did you forget the way you spoke to me the last time you called?’ she shouted. ‘You threatened me, Clay. You do remember that, don’t you?’
‘Oh hell, it was a misunderstanding,’ he told her, finding the glasses and setting two on the counter beside the roses. As he took hold of the cork he gazed around the apartment, drinking it all in. ‘Shit, it’s good to be here,’ he smiled. ‘I really did miss you, d’you know that? Life just wasn’t the same without you.’
Ellen’s hand went to her head as she struggled to deal with the mind-blowing madness of it. She heard the cork pop and watched in dismay as, filling the glasses, he continued as though they really did have something to celebrate. ‘You look sensational,’ he said, looking at her midriff again as he passed her a glass. ‘But then, you always did.’ He laughed. ‘I got photos to prove it. Remember?’
Fury instantly flashed in her eyes. ‘Photos that ended up on Ted Forgon’s desk,’ she seethed and slapped the glass right out of his hand. ‘Now take your god-damned champagne and get the hell out of here.’
‘Oh, come on, you don’t mean that,’ he said, looking pained as he put down the other glass and turned back towards her.
‘Clay, just go,’ she said, holding up a hand as she started to back off. There was something inherently unpleasant about the way he was looking at her now and a beat of unease was shaking her heart. ‘You told me I was history, remember?’ she faltered. ‘You said you were in love with Karen. What happened to Karen?’
He waved a dismissive hand. ‘You don’t need to worry about her,’ he assured her. ‘We never had the kind of thing going you and me had.’ He laughed. ‘You know, you’re so smart I guess you always knew I’d come back, didn’t you? And hell, I don’t blame you for putting that shot in the papers to try and break up me and Karen. I’d probably have done the same if I were you. But I got to tell you, you look a whole lot better in the flesh than you did in that picture and I should know.’
‘I didn’t put the god-damned shot in the paper,’ Ellen spat. ‘Ted Forgon put it there. He’s using them to blackmail me, so how did he come by them, Clay? Did you give him the polaroids? Did you know he had someone staking out your house? Is that how much you thought of me, that you’d do something like that to me?’
‘Hey,’ he cried, ‘I didn’t know he had some snoop photographer going about the place until he told me. And I got to tell you when I found out, I threatened to sue the bastard.’
‘But instead you gave him the polaroids.’
His large, handsome face with its three-day stubble and dark, liquid eyes was a picture of unconcern. ‘Honey, I don’t know what you’re getting so uptight about,’ he said. ‘You look fan-fucking-tastic in those shots and you know it. Besides, you’re the one who liked showing it off in public, so I didn’t think you’d mind if a couple of the lads took a look …’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ she raged. ‘It was you who wanted me to do all those things and I went along with it because I loved you.’
He grinned.
‘Jesus, what a fool,’ she muttered, dashing a hand through her hair. ‘Just go, will you?’ she said, looking back at him. ‘Take your champagne and get out of my life.’
He put his hands on his hips and cocking his head to one side smiled at her. ‘Now, if I thought you meant that,’ he said, ‘I’d probably take offence, you know what I mean? But I know you better, so I know how you like it kind of rough sometimes, so I understand what you’re telling me here.’
Ellen’s heart jarred with fear as he took a step towards her and laid a hand on her midriff. ‘Clay, I mean it,’ she warned, pressing herself into the wall. ‘I don’t want you to touch me. I just want you to leave and …’
‘You got anything on under this top?’ he interrupted, lifting it up to take a look.
‘For Christ’s sake, didn’t you hear me?’ she yelled, thumping his hand away. ‘I don’t want you to touch me. This isn’t an act, Clay. This is real.’
‘You want to do it in front of the window so everyone can take a look?’ he offered, closing in on her and pressing his groin to hers.
‘Clay, let me go,’ she cried, as he began rubbing himself against her. ‘Just let me go!’ she shouted. But he had pinned her arms to the wall and with the rest of his body thrust so hard against hers she couldn’t move. ‘No!’ she choked, jerking her head away as he tried to kiss her. ‘Clay, please, don’t do this.’
‘Hey, come on, you’re not fooling anyone here,’ he sneered. ‘You always want it.’
‘No, Clay, stop,’ she begged, twisting her head from side to side as he attempted to kiss her again.
‘Hey, this is me, remember?’ He laughed, pressing harder on her wrists as she struggled to force them free of the wall. ‘All I ever had to do was touch you and your clothes were off and you were reaching for my cock. Well here it is, babe. Come get it. It’s all yours.’
Even as she fought, Ellen was painfully aware of how his words had struck a truth she hardly wanted to think about, for it was the way she had been with him and it was the way she had been with Michael too. One kiss and she had stripped off her clothes like she was some rampant, sex-starved nympho. So was that why Michael hadn’t been in touch? Had she put him off by being too easy? Did he think she behaved that way with everyone? ‘Clay, no!’ she screamed, as his hand plunged into the elastic waist of her trousers. ‘Let me go! For God’s sake …’ She was pummelling him with her fists and trying desperately to get his legs out from between hers, but while he held her that way, with her feet barely touching the floor, she was virtually powerless to stop him.’
‘Oh God, no,’ she cried as he dragged her trousers down over her hips and began fumbling with his fly. ‘Clay, please, don’t do this.’
But he wasn’t listening. He was too intent now on getting her trousers off and with terrifying ease he pinned her arms behind her back, tore at the flimsy fabric and pushed his hand inside her panties.
Ellen was screaming and fighting, trying to bite and kick him, until finally she wrested a hand out of his grip and snatching up the lamp beside her she brought it crashing down on his head.
‘What the hell’s going on here?’ Matty shouted from the doorway as Clay slumped to the floor.
‘Oh God,’ Ellen sobbed, clutching her arms about herself as she struggled to breathe.
‘Are you all right?’ Matty said, going to her as she slid down the wall. ‘What happened? My God, is that Clay?’
‘He tried to rape me,’ Ellen groaned.
‘She was asking for it,’ Clay sneered, wiping the blood from his forehead as he struggled to sit up. ‘And what the fuck did you have to go and hit me like that for? We were just having some fun.’
‘You were raping me, you go
d-damned sonofabitch!’ Ellen shouted. ‘Now get the hell out of here before I call the police.’
‘You want to get yourself some treatment,’ he snarled, ‘’cos you come on to a guy the way you came on to me …’
‘I didn’t ask you to come here!’ Ellen yelled as he got to his feet. ‘You just turned up, you bastard. And I never did one god-damned thing to give you the come on. It’s all in your head, you mother-fucking egomaniac. I’m suing you, do you hear me! I’m charging you with assault …’
‘This is me you’re talking to,’ he reminded her, his eyes glittering with contempt as he wiped saliva from his lips. ‘I don’t need to assault women to get what I want. The real story here is you just like cutting up rough and the minute your cousin turned up you backed off, shouted rape … Well get this into your head, bitch, I don’t want you phoning me up and begging me to come over no more, ’cos I don’t like the way you do things. Did you get that? Did you hear what I said? We’re through …’
‘Get him out of here,’ Ellen implored, turning to Matty. ‘Please, just make him go, or I swear to God I’ll kill him.’
‘Hey, I’m out of here,’ he replied. ‘No way am I staying after this. You’re sick, do you know that?’ he spat, prodding his head with a finger. ‘You’re a fucking screwball. You ought to be locked up. Hey, maybe I might bring charges, do society a favour.’
‘Get out!’ Ellen screamed, and picking up the nearest object she flung it at him. It missed, but he was already across the room.
‘See, she’s crazy,’ he said to Matty. ‘Get her some help,’ and before either of them could respond he slammed out of the door.
‘Jesus Christ Almighty!’ Matty murmured, still staring at the door. ‘What the hell happened? How did he get in here?’
Ellen was shaking her head. ‘Security let him in,’ she answered. ‘I guess they figured because he’s famous, he’s harmless.’ She gave a bitter laugh, then winced as she tried to get up.