“You're an hour late at the studio. The producer called, and he wanted to remind you the meter's running. The musicians want to know if they can take an early lunch and come back in an hour. And your agent called to remind you, he needs an answer from you today by four-thirty. Bennett Pearson called too. He needs you to call him as soon as you're finished.”
“Okay, okay.” Tanya put up a hand to stop her. “Tell the musicians to take lunch now. I'll be there in half an hour. Tell Tom to wait and we'll go over the arrangements.” And how in hell was she supposed to sing, and decide about Japan, a new film, another tour, and whether or not to pay a settlement to the blackmailer who had told his story in the morning paper? As Jean left the room again, she looked up at her husband. “I guess you're right. None of this is much fun, is it?”
“Sometimes it's lots of fun,” he said, “but most of the time it isn't. There's too high a price to pay for it,” he said honestly as he stood up. He felt like hell, but secretly he was relieved, as far as he was concerned, her life was an absolute nightmare. “Go do your recording, Tan. I'm sorry I made you late. We'll talk another time. There's nothing to resolve now. I'm sorry I took so much time.” No problem. An hour. Three years. It was great fun. Hell, who can blame you for wanting to bail out now? She watched him leave the room, torn between sorrow and hatred.
“Everything all right?” Jean was back in with a stack of messages for her, and a reminder that she had to leave for the studio in the next five minutes.
“Okay, okay, I'm going, and yes, I'm fine.” Fine. Everything was always fine, even when it wasn't. And she couldn't help wondering how long it would take the press to find out, if Tony left her. It shouldn't have been a consideration, but it was. The prospect of another round of stories on her seemed exhausting.
She washed her face before she left, and tried not to cry. She put on dark glasses, and Jean drove the car. She returned some of her calls from the car, and told her agent she'd do the concert tour, including Japan. She would be on the road the following year for nearly four months, but she could fly home from time to time, and she knew how important the concert tour was. She went straight into the studio when they arrived, and stayed until six o'clock, and then she went on to the rehearsal for the benefit, and didn't get home again until eleven o'clock that evening. And when she did, she found a note from Tony on the kitchen table. He had gone to Palm Springs for the weekend. She stood for a long moment, holding the note in her hand, wondering where their life had gone, and how long it would take him now to end it. The handwriting was on the wall, and it didn't take a clairvoyant to guess that he was on his way out. She thought about stopping him, about calling him in Palm Springs, and telling him how much she loved him, how sorry she was for all the pain she'd caused. But when she picked up the phone, she just stood there. Why wasn't he there for her? Why couldn't he take the same abuse that was being heaped on her? Why was he so willing to run? The only conclusion she could come to as she thought about it was that it was entirely possible Tony Goldman had never really loved her. And if that was truly the case, she would very probably never know it. She set down the phone, and with tears in her eyes, she walked quietly toward the silence of their bedroom.
Chapter 3
When Tanya flew to New York, she took the record company's plane, and in order to be alone, she decided not to take her secretary with her. She really didn't need Jean for one TV show, and a meeting with a literary agent. Besides, she wanted some time to think about Tony. After his weekend in Palm Springs, he had come home dutifully on Sunday night. They'd had dinner with the kids, and nothing more was said about his unhappiness, or the stories in the tabloids. She didn't have the courage or the energy to broach either subject with him. And he was careful not to say anything more to her, He didn't even mention it when People magazine picked up the story of the lawsuit. He knew he had said enough, and he had already gone to the office when she left for the airport to go to New York on Tuesday.
The plane was waiting for her, and it was almost like having a commercial airliner all to herself. There was a company executive heading for New York onboard. He obviously knew who she was, but other than a curt hello, he said nothing more to her. And she made notes, and telephone calls, and worked on some music. Halfway to New York her lawyer called to tell her the ex-bodyguard wanted a million dollars to drop his lawsuit.
“Tell him I'll see him in court,” Tanya said coolly.
“Tanya, I don't think that's smart,” Bennett Pearson said calmly.
“I'm not going to pay people to blackmail me. He can't prove anything, he has no case. It's a complete fabrication.”
“It's his word against yours. You're a big star, and according to him, you went after him, you traumatized him, you fired him, you ruined his life because he wouldn't have sex with you…”
“It's all right, Bennett. You don't have to go through all of it. I know what he's claiming.”
“People could feel sorry for him. Juries are unpredictable these days. You have to think about that. What if they award him ten million dollars for his pain and suffering? How would you feel then?”
“Like I wanted to kill him.”
“Think about it. I think you should buy your way out. And a million is a nice clean number.”
“Do you know how hard I have to work for that? They don't just give that stuff away, you know.”
“You're going on tour next year. Take it out of that, and chalk it up to bad luck, like a fire in the house not covered by your insurance.”
“That's sick. This is nothing more than a holdup.”
“That's right, and it's been done before. To you, and to a lot of others.”
“It makes me sick to pay people like that.”
“Just give it some thought. You have enough other things on your plate without adding a lawsuit to it. The last thing you need is to give a deposition that will end up in the tabloids. It would be a matter of public record, and so would the proceedings.”
“All right, all right.”
“Call me from New York.” Why was it all so unpleasant? No wonder Tony wanted out. She wished she could walk out of her life too sometimes, but it was all inescapably attached to her, like warts, or cancer.
The flight to New York took only five hours, and she called Mary Stuart just before they landed. She said she'd be there in half an hour to pick her up, and Mary Stuart sounded excited to see her. Tanya called her again half an hour later from the car, and when she got there, her old friend was waiting downstairs, in jeans and a little cotton sweater. The two women hugged each other close, and Tanya took a long look at her friend in the dark car. Mary Stuart looked thinner and far more serious than she had a year before. The last year had obviously taken a tremendous toll on her. Tanya knew with Alyssa in Paris, it was even harder. But Alyssa had needed to be away from them, and Mary Stuart knew it, so she didn't complain about it.
“God, you never change,” Mary Stuart said, admiring her, amazed at how beautiful Tanya still looked, even at their age. It was as though the hands of time never touched her. “How do you do that?”
“Professional secrets, my dear,” she laughed, looking sexy and mysterious, and then they both laughed. But in spite of whatever surgery she'd had, she also had great skin, beautiful hair, and a fantastic figure. And she had a youthful look about her that had never left her. Mary Stuart looked well too, but she looked closer to their age than Tanya ever had. But keeping her looks wasn't Mary Stuart's business. “You're looking pretty good too, kid, in spite of everything,” Tanya dared to say it. It was hard to believe it had been a year, the worst in Mary Stuart's life, and probably Bill's, although he would never admit it.
“I think you've made a pact with the devil,” Mary Stuart complained. “It's not fair to the rest of us. What do you admit to now? Thirty-one? Twenty-five? Nineteen? They're going to think I'm your mother.”
“Oh, shut up. You look ten years younger than you are and you know it.”
�
��I wish.” But Mary Stuart knew just how hard the past year had been on her. In spite of what Tanya said, she could see it in the mirror.
They went to J.G. Melon's, as they had for years, and commented on the faces they still saw, or no longer did, and Tanya told her she was going on tour that winter.
“What does Tony think about that?” Mary Stuart looked at her over her hamburger, and there was a brief lull in the conversation, and then Tanya glanced up at her, and her expression spoke volumes.
“I haven't told him. I haven't actually seen much of him in the past few days. We… uh… I think I have a little problem.” Mary Stuart frowned in concern and listened. “He… uh… went to Palm Springs for a few days, and he thinks maybe we need a break this summer. He says he's going to Europe, while I take the kids to Wyoming.”
“Is he going on a religious pilgrimage, or is there something you're not saying?”
“No.” Tanya put her hamburger down, and looked at her old friend soberly. “I think there's something he's not saying yet, but he will. He just doesn't know it yet. He thinks he's still trying to make the decision. But I know the signs. He's already made it.”
“What makes you think he has?” Mary Stuart felt sorry for her, but she was not surprised either. Tanya's lifestyle inevitably caused a lot of casualties, and both of them knew that. But as she talked about it, Tanya looked disappointed and unhappy.
“I think he has, because I'm not as young as the doctor makes me look.” Mary Stuart smiled at her comment. “I've seen a lot of fatalities. He's already gone, he just doesn't know it. He can't take this pressure anymore, apparently, the lawsuits, the tabloids, the attacks, the slurs, the embarrassment, the humiliation. I can't say I blame him.”
“Aren't you forgetting something? What about the good stuff?” Mary Stuart asked gently.
“I guess it kind of gets lost in the shuffle. You forget about that. I forget about it too, so I guess I can't really blame him. The only time I really like what I do is when I'm singing… when I'm recording, or in concert and I'm singing my guts out. I don't even care about the applause… it's just the music… and he doesn't get that, I do.
“He gets all the shit. I get the glory. I suspect he's sick of it. There was a story in the paper this week by some ex-employee we hired last year, the guy claims I came on to him, and then fired him when he wouldn't screw me. You know, your usual nice, homespun little story. It made the front page and embarrassed Tony with all his friends. I think it was kind of the last straw for him.”
“What about you? Where does that leave you?” Mary Stuart looked genuinely worried. They had worried about each other for years, even if they didn't talk all the time, or see each other constantly, or even live in the same city. But they both knew that they were always there for each other. “You're telling me that it's getting too hot for him, so he's leaving?”
“He hasn't said that yet, but he's going to. Right now, he wants ‘time off’ so he can go to Europe. Which leaves me taking his kids to a ranch in Wyoming, but that's okay too. I really love them.”
“I know you do. But I'm not exactly impressed by their father's chivalry and devotion.”
“So what else is new?” Tanya smiled ruefully, and squeezed Mary Stuart's hands. “What about you? How's Bill doing these days? Has it been as hard on him as it has on you?” It was written all over her face how much she'd been through.
“I suppose so.” She shrugged. “We don't talk about it much. There's nothing to say. You can't undo what happened.” Or the things they had said to each other about it.
Tanya dared to ask her something then that she had wondered for the past year, and she suspected was the root of the problem. “Does he blame you?” It was barely more than a whisper, but even in the crowded restaurant Mary Stuart heard her.
“Probably,” she sighed. “I suppose we both blame ourselves for not seeing what was happening. But I know in the beginning he felt that I should have seen it coming. I should have been able to foresee disaster before it struck us. Bill bestows magical qualities on me, when it suits him. In any case, I suppose I blame myself too. It doesn't change anything. The delusion is that you can turn the clock back, and stop it from happening, if you assign the blame to the right person. But it doesn't work that way. It doesn't matter. It's over.” Tears filled her eyes and she looked away, and Tanya was instantly sorry she had brought up the subject.
“I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said anything…” What was the point now? Tanya was silently berating herself for being so stupid, as Mary Stuart dabbed at her eyes, and looked reassuringly at Tanya.
“It's all right, Tan. It doesn't matter. It hurts all the time anyway. Like a severed limb, it never stops, sometimes it's sharper than others, sometimes it's really unbearable, sometimes you can live with it, but it never stops aching. You didn't make it hurt. It's with me every moment.”
“You can't live like that forever,” Tanya said, looking devastated for her. It was clearly the worst thing that had happened to any of them, and there was nothing she could do about it.
“Apparently you can live like that forever,” Mary Stuart answered her desperately. “People do it all the time, they live with constant pain of all kinds, arthritis, rheumatism, indigestion, cancer, and then there's this, the destruction of the heart, the death of hope, the loss of everything you ever cared about, it's a challenge to the soul,” she said, looking agonized, but so strong that Tanya almost couldn't bear it.
“Why don't you come to Wyoming with me and the kids?” she suddenly blurted out. It was the only thing she could think of to help her.
Mary Stuart smiled at her. “I'm going to Europe to see Alyssa, otherwise I'd love to. I love to ride.” And then she frowned, confused by an old memory, and grateful to get off an unbearably painful subject. “I didn't think you did though.”
“I don't.” Tanya laughed. “I hate it. But this is supposed to be a fabulous place, and I thought it would be good for the kids.” She looked awkward for a moment then. “I thought Tony would like it too, but he's not coming. But the kids are twelve, fourteen, and seventeen now, and they all love to ride. I thought it would be perfect for them.”
“I'm sure it will be. Are you going to ride too?” Mary Stuart asked her.
“Depends how cute the wranglers are,” Tanya said, sounding very Texas and they both laughed. “I think I'm the only girl in Texas who always hated horses.” But Mary Stuart remembered she rode well, she just didn't like it.
“Maybe Tony will change his mind and go with you.”
“I doubt it,” Tanya said quietly. “It sounds like he's made his mind up. Maybe the time away will do him good.” But Tanya didn't really think it would make a difference, and Mary Stuart was silently of the same opinion. Things definitely seemed to be on their way downhill between Tanya and her husband.
They chatted on for a little while, about Alyssa, and Tanya's next movie, and the concert tour she had signed on for the following winter. Mary Stuart could only imagine how rigorous it would be, and she admired Tanya for doing it. And then they talked about the show she was going to be on the next morning. It was the number one daytime talk show in the country.
“I had to come to New York for that meeting anyway, so I thought I might as well do it. I hope to hell they don't want to talk about the lawsuit. My agent already told them I didn't want to, for whatever that's worth.” And then she remembered an invitation she wanted to extend to Mary Stuart. “I have a friend who opened in a play here last week. They said it's pretty good, and she got great reviews. They're going to run it through the summer and see how it does, and if they do okay, they're going to run it through next winter. I'll get you tickets if you want. But she's giving a party tomorrow night, and I said I'd go. If you want to come, I'd love to take you. Would Bill enjoy something like that? He's welcome too, I just didn't know if it was his cup of tea, or if he'd be too busy.” Or if he was currently speaking to Mary Stuart.
“You sweetheart.” Mary Stu
art smiled at her, Tanya always brought so much sunshine and excitement into her life. It reminded her of over twenty years before. It was always Tanya who rallied everyone, got them all going on some crazy project she had, or made everyone have fun, sometimes in spite of themselves. But she couldn't see Bill being willing to do that. They hadn't gone out in months, except for business purposes, and he was working late every night now, getting ready for London. He was leaving in two weeks for the rest of the summer, but she hoped that at the end of her trip, with Alyssa, they would spend a weekend at Claridge's in London, visiting him. But he had already told her he would be too busy to have them stay any longer. And after that, Mary Stuart was flying back to the States. He said he'd let her know how the trial was going, and if she could come over again to visit. In some ways, it didn't sound too much different to her from what Tony had said to Tanya. And perhaps it wasn't. They both seemed to be losing the men in their lives, and had no way to stop them from going.
“I'm not sure Bill would be able to join us. He's working late every night before he leaves for London for the trial. But I'll ask him.”
“Would you want to come without him? She's a nice girl,” and then Tanya looked embarrassed. She was acting as though she was an unknown actress. “I should probably tell you it's Felicia Davenport, so you don't faint when you meet her. I've known her for years, and she's really terrific.”
“You disgusting name-dropper.” Mary Stuart was laughing at her, she was one of the biggest stars in Hollywood, and she was taking her first stab at Broadway. Mary Stuart had just read about it in the New York Times on Sunday. “It's a good thing you told me before I met her. I would have died, you're right. You dummy.” They were both laughing as they left the restaurant, and Tanya told her she could let her know about the party in the morning. It was at Felicia's rented town house in the East Sixties.
Tanya dropped Mary Stuart off at her apartment then, and she promised to watch Tanya on the show the next morning, and she hugged her tightly as she left her. “Thanks for tonight, Tan. It's so good to see you.” She hadn't even realized how brittle and lonely she was until she saw her friend. She and Bill had barely spoken to each other all year, and she felt like a plant that hadn't been watered. But seeing Tanya had been like standing in a rainstorm getting revitalized again. And she was smiling when she walked into the building with a spring in her step, and nodded at the doorman.
The Ranch Page 5