“Harry wouldn’t let my attention wander,” Tricia replied.
“Who is he?”
“No one. I met him there. I never gave him my phone number and I didn’t give him my name. I gave him my ex-husband’s surname.”
“Oh?”
“Just a little thing I do until I’m convinced the man I’m with is worth some truth. That’s something you’ll have to learn how to do now. But don’t worry. You have a really good teacher.”
“I’m beginning to think so,” Megan said.
“See you soon.”
She hung up and went up to shower and dress. What a roller coaster this was all turning out to be, she thought. She didn’t know whether this was a symptom of a woman’s being involved in a divorce or not, but she found herself spending much more time on her coiffure and her makeup. She even pondered longer on what to wear. Funny, how all that didn’t matter as much a week or so ago. Oh well, she thought, it’s a good change.
Tricia’s right. I should be spoiling myself and nothing fits that bill like buying new clothes and new shoes.
With a spurt of welcome energy, she finished up and bounced down the stairs, when she heard the doorbell. Full of new self-confidence, she seized the doorknob and thrust the door open, prepared to go “Ta-da!” and spin around for Tricia.
Her jaw dropped.
Her heart seemed to go on hold and her breath caught in her throat.
He stood there, smiling at her, a bouquet of magnificent red roses in his hands.
Before she could utter a sound, he stepped in and handed her the roses.
“I wanted to come by and apologize for ruining your night last night.”
She looked at the flowers without taking them.
“Please,” he said, urging her.
She took them slowly.
“I’d like to do more to make it up to you,” he continued.
“I…How did you find me?”
“That was easy,” he said. “I stopped on a corner in Beverly Hills and asked the first person I met where the most beautiful woman in Beverly Hills lived,” he replied.
She held her incredulous smile.
“You were expecting someone else, I gather?” he asked.
“Yes. My girlfriend, the one who was with me last night. We’re going shopping,” she said, and wondered why she had to explain anything to him.
“Well, maybe I can find another opportunity to make it up to you. Can I have your phone number?”
She shook her head.
“But…how do you know…?”
“That you’re free to call?”
“Yes?”
“Same person I asked about the most beautiful woman.”
She saw Tricia’s car turning into the driveway and felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. The conflicting emotions stole her voice for a moment and then she nodded at Tricia’s car.
“My girlfriend.”
He turned to look.
“Oh, right. Okay. Your number is?”
Someday, she would ask herself why she gave it to him, but she did. She blurted it out and he smiled and started down the walk.
“Wait,” she called, and he paused.
“Yes?”
“What’s your name?”
“Steve,” he said. “Steve Wallace.”
“I never told you mine,” she realized.
“Oh, why rush things? You will,” he said, laughing, and continued walking away.
Tricia stood by her car, staring at him in shock. He waved to her as he walked by and down the street toward his truck.
She turned immediately to Megan, who was standing there holding the roses.
“I’ll be right there,” Megan called, and held up the roses to illustrate she had to put them in water.
For the moment, she was too stunned to say anything else.
CHAPTER FIVE
Steve Wallace didn’t simply walk away; he floated. He couldn’t feel the ground beneath his feet. Every part of him, down to his pinky toe, was energized. A day never looked any brighter, the sky any bluer.
She had given him her telephone number. And she did that before he had even given her his name!
He had taken a big gamble back there by suddenly appearing like that, giving her no warning. She could easily have viewed him as some kind of nutcase, panicked and shut the door in his face. Maybe she would have even run to the phone to call the Beverly Hills police to tell them he was there. Although it added to the shock, he was happy he had thought to buy the roses and give them to her. Flowers, especially to women, had a magic entirely of their own.
The look on her girlfriend’s face was precious, too. Women like surprises sometimes. They like a man who can be spontaneous. Steve imagined her husband wasn’t anywhere like that. He had no tangible proof of anything, but it was the report he was getting from his own instincts again. Why would a woman living in a house like that in Beverly Hills want a divorce, especially if she had a child? Maybe he cheated on her, the bastard. That type of guy is always going to cheat. Things always look greener on the other side to them. Being faithful isn’t important.
Of course, these Beverly Hills women could be like that, too. Her girlfriend looked more like that type. He was good at telling the difference. He knew in every cell of his body that his dream woman was different. He could see it in her eyes. There was that vulnerability, that innocence that cried for someone to protect her, to believe in her and love her. She hungered for it now. He was going to be her cool drink of water after years of surviving in an emotional desert.
After all, really, why didn’t she run to call the police? That told him she more than approved of his actions last night. She valued his protection. She obviously saw something in him that gave her comfort. How could this be any better? He didn’t know if he should thank fate, God or just his own good and true instincts, but he was thankful.
He got into his truck just as she came out of her house. He sat there watching them, laughing at how emphatic their gestures were. There was no doubt that what they were talking about involved him. His surprise appearance was probably the most exciting thing to happen to them since…since…last night. He laughed to himself as they got into her girlfriend’s car. He was surely going to be the topic of conversation most of, if not all of, their day.
They backed out and drove off. He started his truck and slowly followed. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He just knew he didn’t want to be that far from her right now-maybe ever. He kept far enough behind so they couldn’t see him. He felt confident that they hadn’t seen him get into his truck. They were both in too much shock to be observant. Even now, when he pulled around a taxi and drew a little closer to her girlfriend’s car, he could see her hands going as they chatted. They were still quite excited. Maybe they wouldn’t calm down all day!
He followed them all the way to the Beverly Center, a shopping complex. He wanted to be extra careful now. It would spook her too much if she saw him following her this closely. He remained a good distance behind them and was careful to find a parking space far enough away so as not to be noticed. After that, he put on a cap so he could pull the brim down and shade his face, quickly changed his shirt and left his jacket behind. Then he took off after them.
Throughout the remainder of the morning, he hovered at a distance that permitted him to watch her closely but not be obvious. He studied her more than watched her. He wanted to learn every gesture, every movement in her face. Once or twice he nearly got too close out of a desire to hear her voice, especially when she laughed.
At lunchtime, the two women left the shopping area with their bags of clothes and shoes and went down to one of the restaurants on the street. It was impossible to observe them there. They would surely spot him entering the restaurant, and that would seem like far too much stalking. He was doing well. He got her phone number. Don’t, he told himself, make a stupid move now.
He remained outside, across the street, and when they emerged and we
nt into the parking lot, he followed slowly. He wondered what they would do now. They had bought what they’d wanted to buy, he imagined. He kept himself near enough to watch them drive off, but again did not get too close. When they arrived at her house, her girlfriend got out of the car and went inside with her.
They weren’t finished. He was sure they were going to keep talking about him, wondering who he was, where he came from, how he had found out where she lived. He had inserted a lot of wonderful mystery into what was currently a dark, dreary and depressing period for her.
Hours passed and still her girlfriend remained inside with her. Then her either soon-to-be or current ex-husband drove up with their daughter. He got out of his car with her and they went into the house. What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall in there right now, he thought. The ex-husband wasn’t in there long and when he came out, he didn’t look very happy. In fact, he backed his car out quickly and spun his tires, taking his rage out on his car and the street.
Steve felt his eyes narrow.
That man has a bad temper, he thought. I can’t let her be abused. He glanced at the house once more and then he started his truck and took off after the ex-husband. He made some sharp turns and headed up another Beverly Hills street. About fifteen minutes later, he saw him pull up to an enormous gate and drive in when the gate opened.
From the street, he could see that the driveway for this mansion curved up and wound around. He could barely see the top third of the house. The foliage and landscaping were so elaborate that it looked as private as a king’s or high government official’s private residence.
Was this where he lived now?
Who was this guy? How rich was he?
He thought about it for a while and then, more concerned than ever, drove off slowly and went home.
His mother, frustrated by his absence all day, pounced on him when he entered.
“What’s going on? You working overtime?”
“No,” he said.
“Well?”
“I’m seeing someone new,” he said. Her face exploded with so much interest that he nearly burst out laughing. Instead, he teased her by walking away. As he’d expected, she was right on his heels.
“What someone new? Where did you meet her? Who is she?”
“I met her last night at a very expensive Beverly Hills watering hole.”
“Watering hole?”
“That’s what those places are, Ma, Beverly Hills or not. People go there to meet people. You just pay more for the same drink in Beverly Hills.”
He took off his shirt. He was going to take a hot shower. He was hungry now, too, very hungry.
“That doesn’t sound like a place you would normally go to. Why did you go there?” she pursued.
He paused as if the question were a terribly good one, one he wanted to ponder before answering. She stood waiting.
“Well?”
He turned slowly to her.
“Someone needed me,” he said. “And I felt it deeply.”
“Huh?”
He smiled at her.
“Got to take a shower. I’m starving. Hope you have something good going,” he added, and left her standing there, shaking her head.
Maybe her husband hadn’t been so crazy after all.
Maybe their son had some serious problems.
On the way out, she put Julia’s picture upright again.
“I still can’t believe you just blurted out your phone number,” Tricia said as she prepared to leave. “I definitely underestimated you.”
“Oh stop. I told you. I don’t know why I did. It was just impulsive.”
“No, sexual,” Tricia insisted.
Megan looked at the stairway. After Scott left, she had sent Jennifer up to wash and change her clothes.
“Well, nothing will come of it.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Besides, you deserve a fling if you want one.”
Megan shook her head.
“I can’t imagine myself—”
“Imagine it, Meg. You’re soon to be a single woman again. You don’t have to run out and marry the first guy who smiles at you, but you don’t have to become a nun, either.”
“That was the angriest I ever saw Scott,” she said, changing the subject. “He looked like he wanted to…“
“Slap you silly. I know. He cannot tolerate your being so strong. If he does or says anything in any way threatening, you call Emily Lloyd.”
“I don’t think—”
“You don’t know,” Tricia corrected. “He’s never been backed up to the wall like this before, especially by you, has he? You’ve complained and had arguments, but this is real now, and he’s got to face it whether he likes it or not. That can reveal the real Scott Lester,” she warned.
Megan bit down on her lower lip and nodded.
“More reason to have a good time,” Tricia continued. “Get your mind off the nasty stuff. I’ll call you later. Or better yet, you call me when Steve calls you.”
“Maybe he won’t.”
“Right. He just runs around Beverly Hills with bouquets of roses. See you,” Tricia sang, and walked out.
Megan stood there thinking a moment and then went up to see how Jennifer’s day had gone.
She was just putting on her flip-flops.
“Did you have a good time, Jen?” she asked.
“Yes,” Jennifer said, but not with much enthusiasm.
“You saw a lot of wonderful art and had a nice lunch, didn’t you?”
“Uh-huh, but Daddy was on the phone a lot, too. Even at lunch,” she said.
“Oh. Well, I’m sure he talked to you quite a bit, too.”
She shrugged.
“He asked a lot of questions about you,” she said.
“What kind of questions?”
“He wanted to know what you’ve been doing and especially where you went last night.”
“Is that right?”
“I didn’t tell him anything bad about you, Mom.”
“Oh, I know you didn’t, Jen. I know you wouldn’t.”
“He said he didn’t understand why you were being so mean to him. He said he wished I could get you to change your mind.”
“Dirty pool,” Megan muttered. She made a mental note to call Emily Lloyd to see what could be done about his trying to pressure her through their daughter. She was angry enough to get on the phone and call him herself, but she realized that might be just what he wanted—a Lester discussion. Both he and his father were too good at knocking down their opponent’s arguments. Let your lawyer handle it, she told herself.
“Well, don’t you worry about it, Jen. It will all work out. C’mon. Help me make dinner and don’t forget, we’re going to the movies tomorrow.”
Working side by side in the kitchen with Megan helped Jennifer to relax and resemble a normal nine-year-old girl again. Despite her annoyance at Scott for not devoting 100 percent of his attention to her at the museum, Jennifer obviously had enjoyed the experience. She rambled on and on about the different works of art, the statuary, even the restaurant. Megan couldn’t help but shake her head and regret that it took a separation between her and Scott before he would think of taking Jennifer on such an outing. Before, if she didn’t come up with the ideas for such trips and experiences, they would never come up, and too often she and Jennifer had ended up doing them without him because of another one of his last minute business crises.
They ate, cleaned up and watched television. Just before nine, the phone rang. She was expecting calls from her other girlfriends by now. Despite Tricia’s promise not to get on the gossip line, she knew she would at least mention it to one or the other and that would set off a series of calls and discussions. She reviewed how each of her friends would react, picturing who would see it as a death in the family and who would be more than sympathetic, actually sound envious of her grit.
As she moved to pick up the receiver, she tried to guess who would be first.
“Sorry,
if I shocked you this morning,” he began.
She felt the heat come into her face. She could end it now before it even really began, she thought. It was truly as if there were a good angel on one shoulder and a bad one on the other. Both were whispering in her ears:
This guy is good-looking, but too aggressive. End it.
This guy is more than just good-looking. There’s an old-fashioned kind of way about him. One thing’s for sure, he’s sensitive to your needs.
Hang up.
Give him a chance. Learn more about him. Don’t crawl into a shell. Tricia was right.
She glanced at Jennifer, who was getting sleepy. She looked so small suddenly, so vulnerable. How could Scott not see that? How could he have neglected her even for a moment today, neglected her enough to have her complain about his being on the phone? She pictured Jennifer standing there in front of some hard-to-understand work of art, feeling alone while other parents and children moved about with excitement.
Almost out of spite alone, she decided to continue the phone conversation. But there were real concerns.
“No,” she said. “That was all right. I would just like to know how you knew where I lived.”
“I was supposed to meet a friend at that place last night, the Cage? I didn’t see him because he was on the dance floor, but I saw what was going on with you and forgot about him. Afterward, he heard the commotion and was in the crowd when the police arrived. He overheard some things, including your name and address.”
Did she say her address aloud or just write it? She couldn’t recall.
“Oh, I see.”
“You’d think a woman would be safe from those kind of creeps in a place like that.”
“I don’t know as we’re safe anywhere, when it comes to that sort of thing,” she said. “But…didn’t you think I was married? I mean…“
“You weren’t wearing a wedding ring. I took a shot,” he said.
She looked at her hand. She had forgotten that she had taken off her wedding ring.
“Are you divorced?”
“In the process,” she replied.
“Oh. Well, I felt you were a little down when I first saw you. Sorry.”
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