by Gun Brooke
“Yes, ma’am,” Jem replied merrily.
Each had different assignments during the mission to Mars, but, despite trying their best, they still came close to crashing on the landing strip at the Mars colony. Carolyn kept barking out orders, making the other three want to double over with laughter.
They skidded along the runway, breaking through the barriers. Annelie listened to Gary Sinise’s somber voice as their space shuttle teetered on the edge of the abyss, swaying back and forth. “Don’t move a muscle.”
“I’m not!” Kitty squealed from the engineer’s station. “Oh, God!”
“Welcome to Mars!”
The lights went on, and the safety bars released their vise grip. The four women stepped outside on wobbly legs, all smiles.
“Wasn’t that fun?” Jem grinned. “I think I did an awesome job of piloting, if I do say so myself.”
“An awesome job?” Kitty raised her eyebrows. “We practically crashed!”
“It’s indicative of how she drives a car,” Annelie teased, as Jem shot her a mock glare.
“I can’t believe how much fun that was,” Carolyn added. “It all felt so natural to me, being starship captain. Who knew?”
Annelie exchanged glances with Jem and Kitty before bursting out in a fit of laughter.
Carolyn looked at her companions with mild surprise. “What? What did I say?”
Deciding it was time for ice cream, they sat down on a bench in the shade, and Annelie suddenly felt a hand on her knee. She wondered if Carolyn was aware of the public display of affection as she placed her own on top of Carolyn’s and rubbed her thumb over her knuckles. Hearing a soft intake of breath, she noticed Carolyn’s slightly startled eyes.
“Good ice cream?” Annelie asked innocently.
“Wonderful,” Carolyn said huskily. “I love chocolate.”
“Oh, goodness, look at Charlotta and Sam,” Jem snorted, breaking the mood.
The two women were stumbling toward them, both looking queasy and pale.
Carolyn rose. “Charlotta, come take my seat. Here, let me help you.” She held the ill-looking woman around the shoulders. “Take a couple of deep breaths. Annelie, open my backpack. I have an unopened bottle of water left.”
“Charlotta, you okay?” Annelie said, as she handed the water to her friend.
“Uh, yeah, I think so. They did warn people about motion sickness. Ew.”
Sam had recovered more quickly and kept fanning herself with a brochure. “I think it’s time for dinner,” she suggested. “Charlotta will feel better with some food in her.”
“Good idea,” Jem agreed. “Any suggestions?”
“What about the Scandinavian part of Epcot?” Annelie said. “My Swedish heritage needs meatballs.”
“Sounds good to me,” Carolyn agreed.
The sun had set by the time they found the right restaurant and ordered their food. Charlotta started looking better after eating an appetizer.
“Your color’s improved, at least,” Carolyn noted as the waiter served their main course, meatballs.
“I’m fine now, thanks. Can you believe how wild that ride was?”
“I thought I was going to go deaf from Carolyn barking orders.” Jem rolled her eyes. “Is she always this bossy, Annelie?”
Annelie looked at her lover, noticing Carolyn’s wink. “She’s normally very bossy, except when it comes to doing one thing.” She saw Carolyn’s eyes widen as the other women whistled and laughed. Annelie leaned closer to Carolyn. “Told you I’d get even.”
“I can’t believe you said that.”
“What do you mean? I was talking about our professional relationship, as actress and executive producer.”
“Aha. Right.” Carolyn gave a slow smile.
Annelie focused on the way her friends teased Carolyn about her ability to slip into character at the drop of a hat, as Charlotta put it. Seeing everyone so at ease around her warmed Annelie’s heart.
Sam’s voice broke her reverie.
“Annelie, can you call the odd little guy over here? I want some Norwegian dessert.”
*
Having pulled out the box he had forgotten about until he watched the television show, the thin man tugged at the rubber band circling a small stack of letters. The box had been sitting in the cabinet for ages, and now it could come in very handy. Opening the first letter, he laughed with a hissing sound.
“‘Annie asks for you all the time,’” he read aloud. “Great.”
Chapter Thirteen
“No, not like that. I look like I’ve been in a hurricane,” Carolyn said, trying hard to remain patient. She hated having her hair and makeup done but was determined not to convey her aversion to the makeup artist working on her.
“It’s a contemporary style,” the hair stylist explained. “Diana Maddox—”
“Is a hardworking criminal investigator with little or no time in the morning to create this!” Carolyn gestured toward the mirror. “You’re wasting your time. I know Regina Carmichael. She’s not going to run with this look.” Truth be told, she simply could not imagine going through the rather painful process of creating the wild hairdo every morning before filming.
“Let’s take a picture of it anyway.” The stylist gestured toward the photographer. “Just in case.”
Muttering under her breath, Carolyn stepped up on the dais and allowed the studio photographer to do his job. “I liked the first version you created,” she said. “The simple French twist was in character.”
The other woman looked like she was about to object when Carolyn’s cell phone interrupted them.
“Black.”
“Oh, dear, you sound miffed,” Beth greeted her at the other end. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, sweetie. I’m at work, doing my fittings.”
“Welcome back to New York.”
Wanting to slap her forehead for forgetting to call her sister the previous evening, Carolyn took a deep breath and moved out of earshot. “I’m sorry I didn’t call right away, kiddo. When we got in last night I fell into bed, unconscious.”
“Did you have fun?”
“We had a great time, especially at Disney World, going on all the rides and eating well.”
“Great. Listen, Lyn…” Beth’s voice wavered. “I’m not sure, but I picked up on something on TV and had the feeling I should tell you.”
“What is it?” A sudden, inexplicable pang made Carolyn square her shoulders.
“It’s about your new boss. I saw something on E! News first and then a short segment on NBC.”
Chills dashing down her spine, Carolyn pressed the cell phone closer to her ear. “Go on.”
“Apparently Annelie Peterson’s father has come forward, accusing her of letting him live in poverty, on welfare. He’s claiming her charity work is nothing but a hypocritical act, since she doesn’t even care about her own flesh and blood.”
“What?!”
“I didn’t like the sound of it. It came across like she was this heartless rich bitch with a poor, sick, old dad.”
Carolyn’s heart raced as cold fury exploded in the depths of her stomach. This was the type of story that signaled a media hunt. With so much press about the Maddox film and interest in the woman behind the project, the media would beat up any hint of scandal into a salacious exposé. Knowing time was all-important, she scrambled to figure out the best plan.
“Thank you for letting me know so quickly, honey. This will cause problems for Annelie, so I need to get right on it. Can I get in touch with you later tonight?”
“Sure. I’ll be here.”
Carolyn hung up and walked over to the makeup area where she kept her purse. Combing her hair, rolling her eyes as she destroyed the ridiculous hairdo, she held up her hand dismissively when the beautician approached her. “Sorry, we’ll have to continue tomorrow. Something came up that can’t wait.”
“But…”
“Tomorrow.” Rummaging around in her purse, Carolyn
found Margo’s business card. She looked up and saw the stylist still standing there. Sighing inwardly, she fought not to take her irritation out on her. “Can you call for my car? I’ll see you in the morning at eight.” Carolyn grabbed her coat and was already dialing Margo as she left the room.
“Margo, this is Carolyn Black.”
“Carolyn, how are you? Annelie’s not here. She’s working from her apartment today.” The Irish accent smoothed out the other woman’s energetic way of speaking.
“I know. I’m on my way back there. It’s you I need to talk to. Something’s come up.”
“Go on.” Margo’s voice was guarded.
“I had a call from my sister in D.C. who saw something disturbing on the news today about Annelie. It’s not good.” Carolyn relayed what Beth had said.
There was a pause, making Carolyn think she’d been cut off.
“Margo, are you still—”
“The bastard!” Margo exploded. “We’ll take care of him. Why the hell did that lowlife have to crawl out from under his rock?”
“That’s a no-brainer. Money.”
“Yeah.” Margo cleared her throat. “You realize this is going to hit her hard, don’t you? When the media’s witch hunt is on, all bets are off.”
“I agree.” Carolyn walked over to the car pulling up at the curb, got into the backseat, and gave Annelie’s address. “I can’t imagine how she’ll take it. Privacy is so important to her.”
“Tell her I’ll be there as soon as I know more. And Carolyn, thanks for calling.”
Forcing herself to relax against the headrest and rubbing her forehead, Carolyn hoped Annelie wouldn’t be watching TV while she worked. Knowing Annelie preferred listening to soft jazz or classical music, she doubted it. Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up to the condo.
Outside the door to the apartment, Carolyn had to stop and draw a cleansing breath. She was furious, angrier than she had been in a long time, and at a ghost of a man who was only out to get his hands on some of his daughter’s money.
As Carolyn unlocked the door and stepped inside, she heard the bittersweet voice of Billie Holiday.
“Annelie?” Carolyn dropped her purse on the small dresser in the hallway and strode toward Annelie’s study. Stopping in the doorway, she felt her heart melt when she spotted her lover completely focused on her computer. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she wore powder blue sweats. “Annie?”
Flinching, Annelie looked up, a soft smile spreading on her lips at the sight of her lover. “Carolyn, what are you doing home already? I thought fittings would take all day.” A frown appeared on her forehead. “You look so serious. Is something wrong? Oh, God, is Beth all right?”
Carolyn walked over to the desk and sat down on the edge, leaning down for a quick kiss. “Beth’s doing fine. She called me earlier and…she had some news that I wanted to share with you in person.”
“What news? It can’t be good. I can tell from your face. Come on. You’re scaring me.”
“Now, listen to me, love.” Carolyn cupped Annelie’s chin. “Seems your father has decided to float to the surface and make an appearance.”
There was a stunned silence as Annelie went pale.
“Probably saw you on TV and put two and two together,” she continued. “I’ve called Margo. She’s dealing with it as we speak.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“Who…I mean, where…wh…” Annelie’s voice gave out. When the words still didn’t come, she reached for a remote sitting on her desk and pressed a button. Doors slid open in the bookshelf to reveal a plasma-screen television. Pressing another button, she clicked to the entertainment channel. After a commercial, a news segment featuring an elegant blond woman appeared.
“We’re talking to Miranda Lewis, who has the latest on the Annelie Peterson story. As you know, Annelie Peterson is the publisher and executive producer responsible for bringing the famous character Diana Maddox to us in printed form as well as award-winning audiobooks. There has always been some mystique around the elusive beauty, who is one of the wealthiest women in the country. Share the scoop with us, Miranda.”
Carolyn moved to stand behind Annelie, placing both hands on her shoulders.
“Well, Cathy, it turns out the stunning Ms. Peterson, also known for her generosity and philanthropic endeavors, has been hiding a secret that seems out of character. We know her, among other things, as the president of the Nebula Circle, a company devoted to building shelters for the homeless and raising money for needy children. Here’s what’s hard to understand. It turns out Annelie Peterson’s father has lived in poverty most of his life, and he claims she hasn’t raised one finger to help him.”
“He’s never…I didn’t know,” Annelie whispered. “I…”
Carolyn caressed the top of her right shoulder through her sweatshirt.
“He’s disabled, unable to work for a living, and getting by on welfare. His name is Stuart Clint, and I met him a few hours ago in the Laguna Trailer and Camping Park.” The scene shifted to a run-down trailer park, zooming in on a skinny, gray-haired man with piercing blue eyes. Dressed in a faded red T-shirt and torn jeans, he certainly looked the part.
“Tell us, Mr. Clint, why you’ve chosen to step forward right now?”
“I’ve missed having my daughter in my life for a mighty long time. I didn’t want to mess things up for her, by showing up, you know, looking the way I do. I wouldn’t fit in. She’s a, well, I guess you could call her a jet-setter. I’m at the other end of the rope—real down on my luck, you could say. Lately, I’ve been sick, and there’s no insurance and all. When I seen her on TV with her fancy friends, I figured maybe she might help her old dad out. So I been trying to get in touch, but she never answered my letters. Couldn’t even pick up the phone.”
“What? There have never been any letters, let alone calls!” Annelie rose from the chair. “He’s lying, Carolyn.”
“You don’t have to convince me. I know he is.” Carolyn reached for her.
“She was a real sweet child. Beautiful, with that golden hair and all. Can’t believe the change in her since she come by money. Imagine, she’s running these charities but leaves her own flesh and blood to suffer like this. Just isn’t right. I’ve been quiet long enough. Hypocrisy, that’s what we’re talking about.”
“He’s lying!” Annelie grabbed the remote and switched off the TV. “I have to call Margo.” Her hands trembled so much, the phone slipped through her fingers and landed on the floor, knocking the battery from its compartment. “Damn.”
“Annelie, listen.” Carolyn held her gently by the shoulders. “Margo’s on her way here, as soon as she’s informed Greg Horton.”
At first, Carolyn thought Annelie was going to break free from her touch, but then she relented, turning into the embrace. Her slender form was shivering.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered. “I can’t believe he’d do this after all this time. He left us! One day when I came home from school—I was in the first grade—he was gone.”
“Come into the living room, love.” Carolyn kissed Annelie’s cheek and realized her lover was crying. “Let’s go sit on the couch.” She guided her through the apartment, one arm around her waist. Sitting down, she held Annelie, who clung to her. “There. I’ve got you.”
They sat in silence for a moment, while Annelie regained her composure. When she finally pulled back, the expression in her eyes made Carolyn’s heart ache.
“There’s no way he can know anything personal about me,” Annelie murmured, settling back against the pillows on the couch. “I certainly wasn’t a beautiful child, as he says. Still, he has an eerie sense of what would hurt me the most.” She clenched her teeth, blinking back new tears.
“I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am. I never wanted to be in the public eye. When I won the lottery, I was suddenly famous in the Chicago area and all over Illinois. People who normally wouldn’t give me the t
ime of day suddenly wanted to be my best friends. Women who gave me the cold shoulder all through high school now talked to me like we’d been pals since childhood.
“In fact, when I was a geeky preteen, they despised me. After I blossomed one summer and boys began acting nuts around me, they hated me. It also turned out my so-called geeky friends started seeing me as a kind of traitor. But when I became rich, all of them were suddenly my long-lost friends.”
She shrugged, drying her tears on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “So I left. I only stayed in touch with Margo, Charlotta, and Jem. I took my mother’s maiden name…I paid someone to teach me how to walk, talk, eat…everything, so I could fit into circles of high society and big business. I just wanted to put the money to good use, to be left alone, and to, maybe…just maybe, find someone to love.”
Carolyn reached out for Annelie’s restless hands, pulling one of them up to her lips. Not taking her eyes off her lover, she kissed the palm and rubbed it against her cheek. “You did find someone to love, who loves you right back. I know your privacy is important, and I can imagine how this must hurt. The fact that it’s your father doing this…is terrible.
“But listen to me, love. I know how this works. The press smells a scoop, and they aren’t stupid. They see a story here. You’re a beautiful, rich woman whom they know very little about. I mean, you’ve covered your tracks pretty well. A family drama unfolds in public, and they jump on it. The thing is, in a day or two, they’ll lose interest. It’s the nature of the media.”
“But this reflects on more than just me, Carolyn,” Annelie said, her eyes glistening. “He’s questioning my credibility in my charity work. Never mind what he can do to me personally. This could seriously damage our projects.”
Carolyn knew Annelie was right. “I understand that. But you need to see beyond your pain. Start thinking about damage control. Then you’ll feel empowered, not victimized. Margo will help, and so will all of us.”
Annelie’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been in a similar situation, haven’t you?”
Carolyn shrugged. “Several times. I’m a celebrity, so the press treats me like public property. They invade my private life on a whim. It’s the same for anyone like us, Annelie.”