Fame

by Karen Kingsbury

  “It’s all right. What happened?”

  “I was . . .” She took three quick breaths, still finding her composure. “I was having dinner with a friend, one of the makeup artists I met on my last film.” She pointed toward the main dining room on the other side of the door. “It was early. I figured I wouldn’t get recognized.” She gestured to her white T-shirt and denim miniskirt. “I don’t exactly stand out dressed like this.”

  Dayne kept his opinion to himself. Kelly Parker could stop traffic in a potato sack. “So what happened?”

  “We were . . . we were eating when someone from another booth walked up and handed my friend a copy of Special Event.”

  Dayne felt his stomach tighten. Of all the Hollywood magazines, Special Event was most known for exaggerating the facts and sometimes fully making them up. “Do you have it?” He held out his hand. “Give it to me, Kelly. Let me see what it says.”

  She hung her head, but after a few seconds she pulled the magazine up from the seat beside her and handed it to him. “How can they print this, Dayne?” Her voice was a strained whisper. “Do they think we’re not real people? That we don’t feel things?”

  The magazine was turned to a layout with pictures of Kelly. One showed her with her most recent leading man, Ari Aspen, the guy she’d been seeing until lately. The other showed her sitting at a restaurant with her friend the makeup artist. Above the pictures the headline read “Did Kelly Parker Leave Ari Aspen for a Woman?”

  Dayne let the magazine fall to the table. “That’s ridiculous.” He pushed the air from his lungs and then tightened his grip on the rag. In a rush of frustration he picked it up and used it to hit the side of the table. “It’s insane, Kelly. No one who knows you would ever believe that.”

  “That’s just it.” The tears were gone, but her hands shook. “Most of the world doesn’t know me, Dayne. They’re the ones who’ll be reading it.”

  A painful mix of feelings churned in Dayne’s gut. Anger at the magazine for having the nerve to print such a story and a helpless ache for his friend. “Ah, Kelly . . .” He stilled her hands with his. “I’m sorry. Know what they’re saying about me?”

  She managed a smile, despite her puffy cheeks. “That you’re an alien woman in disguise?”

  “Practically.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “They say some crazy woman is stalking me, that she wants a day with me or my death.” He held both hands out and made a funny face. “See what I mean? Crazy stuff.”

  Kelly’s expression changed, and fear settled in around the corners of her eyes. “What if it’s true?”

  “It’s not true.” He covered her hands again. “I know when the paparazzi are on my tail; I’d certainly know if some deranged fan was following me.” He paused. “See? It’s all nonsense.”

  “What is it with those people?” She leaned her head back against the top of the leather booth. “They build you up until you’re so . . . so big you can’t leave your house. Then they tear you down.”

  “Yes.” Dayne remembered his conversation earlier in the week with Marc David. “Piece by piece.”

  “I can’t stand it.” Kelly sniffed and sat up straighter. “Take me home, will you?”

  “Isn’t your car here?”

  “No.” She collected her purse and stuffed the magazine deep inside. “My friend gave me a ride. It’s easier going out in someone else’s car.” She nodded toward the magazine in her purse. “At least it was before that hit the streets.”

  Dayne took her hand and led her from the booth. Before they entered the public part of the restaurant, he stopped and faced her. “Keep your chin up, Kelly.” He used his thumb to clean the mascara smudges from her face. “Don’t let ’em see you crying.”

  She worked her fingertips into the roots of her hair and straightened the wrinkles in her T-shirt. “That’s what I keep telling myself.” For a moment she locked eyes with Dayne. “Sometimes I’m not sure it’s worth the trouble.”

  “What?” An alarm went off in Dayne’s mind. “The acting?”

  “No.” The fear in Kelly’s eyes was so deep, it was impossible to see past it. “The living.”

  “Hey.” He pulled her into his arms and rubbed his hand along her back. “Don’t talk like that. You scare me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her words were mumbled against his chest. She drew back. “I don’t know how to get away from it.”

  Dayne reached into her purse, grabbed the magazine, and ripped out the pages with the pictures of her. He crumpled them into a ball, strode across the room, and dropped them into the closest trash can. Then he ripped out the rest of the pages, grabbing big handfuls of them, crushing them in his fists and dropping them into the trash.

  From across the room, Kelly let loose a few small giggles.

  Finally all that was left was the cover. Dayne held it up, aimed a pointed grin in her direction, then ripped the glossy layout into a few dozen pieces. He let them drift from his hands into the trash can, and when there was nothing left of the magazine, he returned to his place facing Kelly.

  “That’s how you get away from it.” He moved in closer to her and took her shoulders in his hands. “Don’t read them, Kelly. They’re not real, and the people who read them aren’t real either. You’ll never know those people, and they’ll never know you. Who cares what they think?”

  A desperate look filled Kelly’s eyes and she reached up, holding on to his forearms. “I want to think that way, really.” She gave a small nod. “You’re right. I need to stay away from them.” She wrinkled her nose. “Is that how you live with it?”

  “No.” He chuckled and fell in alongside her, leading her to the door once more. “I read every word because it makes me laugh. By the time I reach the end of the rag, my sides hurt.”

  “Wow.” She looped her arm through his, her tone lighter than before. “That’s why you’re my hero, Dayne. Really.”

  Having Kelly so close sent a familiar desire through Dayne’s body. He wove his fingers between hers and opened the door. Before taking another step, he scanned the room. It was almost empty, the dinner crowd light that evening. A few couples, nothing more. Certainly no photographers.

  He turned to her. “Come on. The coast is clear.”

  Together they moved quickly through the club, out the door, and to the valet. They were in his SUV headed back to her Hollywood Hills home in a matter of minutes. Dayne kept the conversation light as they drove, but he wondered if she might invite him in. They had never figured out how to have a relationship, but the time they did share was unforgettable.

  Once they were in front of her house, he rolled down his windows and cut the engine.

  She turned toward him, and a shy smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Thanks. I feel better.”

  “Good.” He took her hands, and as he did, his fingers brushed against her bare knees. Crickets sang in the background, and a breeze rustled the leaves of the trees that lined her driveway. “Hey . . . it’s been a while since we were like this.”

  “I was thinking that.” She glanced at her front door, then back at him. “You dating anyone these days?”

  “No.” He thought about the month he spent with his last leading lady and Sarah Whitley before her. Both were old news. It’d been a month since he’d been with anyone. He shrugged. “Trying to keep things simple.”

  “What about Sarah Whitley?”

  “Nah, she’s seeing a producer. Someone more serious than me.” He leaned back against the driver’s door and grinned. “I guess I was too wild for her.”

  Kelly tipped her face and looked deeper. “You’re not wild, Dayne.” She squeezed his fingers. “It’s all a big act. You’re just waiting for the right one.”

  “Oh, really?” His chuckle helped keep the moment light. But in that instant, the image of Katy Hart came to mind. Katy with her long blonde hair and innocent eyes and dedication to kids’ theater. He coughed, shaking the picture. “What makes you so sure?”

  “I kn
ow you, remember?” The air between them changed, and the electricity that had been there earlier that evening was back. She lifted his fingers to her lips and kissed them. “Wanna come in?” Her eyes held a hint of shame but not enough to hide her desire. “I could use the company.”

  “Are you sure?” Dayne felt his body respond to her offer. He had hoped things might go this way, but he wouldn’t have pushed it.

  “I’m sure.” She leaned closer and kissed him on the lips, a kiss that left no doubt as to her intentions. “I need you, Dayne. Please.”

  “Okay.” He kissed her, dizzy with anticipation of the pleasure that lay ahead. He didn’t want a relationship, not with Kelly Parker. The two of them had already explored that possibility. But every now and then a night together was something they both enjoyed. He swallowed and shifted in his seat.

  She was still inches from him, her breathing fast, heavy. “I’ll go first. In case they’re watching.” Her lips met his again. “Could you drive around the block, maybe park down the street and walk up?”

  “Sure.” Anything to keep her mind off the paparazzi. Tonight it would be just the two of them, sharing the night, savoring each other. He framed her face with his hands and kissed her with an abandon he hadn’t felt since the last time they were together. “You better go in.”

  “I will.” A giggle surfaced from between her lips. “Soon.” She moved closer, nuzzling her face against his. “This is going to be fun. Catching up on old times.”

  Dayne was thinking the same thing. He kissed her again, the intensity between them building. He was about to tell her they should leave, get themselves inside before someone saw them making out in the SUV. Only just then he heard a series of clicks. Crickets, maybe. Yes, it had to be crickets.

  “Let’s get inside.” He whispered into her ear, “I missed you.” His lips made a trail of kisses down her neck. “We’ve waited too long for this.”

  At that instant the clicks sounded again, too quiet, too distant to make him pull away.

  But she must have heard them too, because she sat straight up. “What was that?” She ran her tongue along her lower lip and shot furtive glances out the window, squinting at the dusky shadows around his SUV. “Did you hear something?”

  “Relax, Kelly.” He drew her close again and kissed her once more. “Just the crickets.”

  But even as he tried to convince her, even as he leaned over, opened her car door, and told her to hurry inside where their catching up would certainly continue into the early morning hours, he heard the sound again. A series of rapid clicks. This time he couldn’t convince himself it was crickets or rustling leaves or anything but the obvious.

  The sound of a camera.

  The inside of the old yellow Honda Civic was stuffy, but that didn’t matter.

  Her windows were already cracked an inch, and that’s all she would allow. Anything more and he’d see her, hear her. Sense her heart beating across the street from Ruby’s. And that was something that absolutely couldn’t happen.

  Otherwise the whole plan would fall apart.

  As it was, she was having trouble following him. He stayed at the studio long hours lately and spent way too much time at his beach house in Malibu. It was better when he went clubbing. Then she could dress up and work her way inside. Sometimes she’d sit at the bar for hours, sipping the same glass of Sutter Home burgundy.

  The conversation there would keep her interested, and she would never take her eyes off him. Sure, she’d look in other directions so people wouldn’t catch on. But even when her back was to him, she could see him, sense him. He could be twenty feet away surrounded by women, but still she could feel his breath against her face. The breath of the man she was married to.

  Dayne Matthews.

  “Are you sure you should wait here?” Anna tapped her on the shoulder and stared at her. “If he’s your husband, he’ll come out and find you and the two of you can go home.”

  “He is my husband, okay!” Chloe hissed the words at her sister. “He’s my husband, and I’ll sit here as long as I like.”

  Anna laughed, a long, cackling laugh. The laugh of a witch. “Hey, there he is. Your dream boy.” She pointed. “Take a look.”

  Chloe spun around and glanced out the window. Anna was right. Dayne was leaving Ruby’s with that prostitute on his arm, that no-good Kelly Parker. She tightened her hands into fists and slammed them against the steering wheel. A string of expletives fired through her lips at the image they made, two of Hollywood’s biggest and brightest stars, sneaking out of Ruby’s, believing that for a single moment maybe people weren’t watching.

  “Stupid people,” Chloe spat. “Of course we’re watching.”

  “You might be watching.” Anna laughed again. “But I don’t believe he’s your husband. Not for a minute.”

  Chloe jerked herself around and glared at her sister. “He is my husband. I told you that before.”

  “Then where do you keep him? Why haven’t I seen you together?” She flicked her finger at Chloe’s arm. “It’s because you’re a liar, Chloe. A crazy liar.”

  Her mouth felt dry, so Chloe ran her tongue along her lower lip. “Where do I keep him?” Inside her, a pounding started up, loud and strong and steady. A familiar pounding, one that made her want to reach out and—

  “There they go, the lovebirds!” Anna’s laugh grew more wicked than before. “You’re a nutcase, Sister. Anyone ever tell you that? A nutcase.”

  Chloe turned once more and watched Dayne and Kelly Parker disappear around the corner. “I know where he’s going. I could be there before him.” She started the engine of her car and pushed the gas pedal. Again and again she pushed it, but the Civic didn’t move a bit.

  “Wine,” she said. “Anna, give me a glass of wine.”

  “Not till you tell me where you keep him. Where does this husband of yours live? I mean—” she brushed a piece of lint off her shoulder—“I’m always with you, Chloe. And I’ve never seen your husband spend so much as a day with you.”

  “You just don’t look careful enough.” Chloe stared at her sister, and then in a sudden motion she slapped her hard against her cheek. “I . . . I keep him in the glove box.”

  Anna’s eyes were blazing now. “He’s not in your glove box—he’s with Kelly Parker.” She leaned closer, sneering at Chloe. “Spend a day with him; then I’ll believe you.”

  For a moment, Chloe held her breath. Two decades of hatred and anger and poisonous venom had built in her heart. This time she slapped Anna across the other cheek, harder than she’d ever slapped her before. “I’ll spend a day with him; you’ll see. Dayne Matthews is my husband. I’ll prove it to you.”

  “You’re a crazy spinster, Chloe. You’d have to be beautiful like me to have Dayne Matthews as your husband.”

  Chloe felt in her pocket for the knife, the one she kept with her all the time. In case she needed to defend Dayne or force him into the car with her. Her hand wrapped snug around the handle, her eyes tearing into her sister’s. “Don’t tell me what I have to—”

  There was a sharp knock on the window, and Chloe froze. Casual, act casual. She angled her body so she was facing the driver’s-side window. Outside stood a police officer, a scowl on his face.

  She had to roll down her window—he wouldn’t settle for anything less. And Dayne was far enough away now that it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t hear her heartbeat, not even with it screaming in her temples and echoing through the inside of the Honda.

  Smile, she told herself. You have to smile. She felt the corners of her lips lift as she cranked the window all the way down. “Uh, hello, Officer. Can I help you?”

  He frowned at her and stooped down, looking past her toward the passenger seat and the back of the car. “We had reports you were yelling at someone.” He straightened back up and pulled a notepad from his pocket. “Were you in some sort of trouble, ma’am?”

  “Not at all, Officer. Just chatting with my sister.”

  The m
an took a step back and raised his brow a bit. “Okay.” He looked inside her car again. “Can I get your driver’s license, please? I need to make a report.”

  “My license?” Her mouth was dry again. That, and Dayne Matthews was getting away. He couldn’t leave Ruby’s with Kelly Parker. What would happen if the two of them got together again? It could be weeks before he came back to his senses and went home to her. She glanced toward the side street, the one where Dayne and Kelly would come out from if they were headed back to his house.

  “Ma’am, can you please hurry?” The officer poised his pen above the notepad. “I need your license.”

  “Oh.” She felt her composure returning. “Right. I’m sorry. I was thinking about my sister.” Chloe pulled her designer purse from the seat beside her and began rummaging through it. After several seconds, she smiled up at the officer and batted her eyelashes. “Wouldn’t you know it? I left it in my other purse.” She tilted her head, doing her best to look demure and alluring. “I’m so sorry, Officer. Would you like to follow me home so I can show it to you?” She gestured down the road. “I live just a few miles from here—up in the hills.”

  The officer hesitated for a minute. “What’s your name?”

  “Margie. Margie Madden.”

  “Well, the report was that you were maybe in trouble, screaming at someone.”

  Chloe gave a light laugh, reached out, and patted the officer’s arm. “Sir, now do I look upset about anything? Like I said, I was chatting with my sister.”

  “Where is she?”

  Chloe’s heart beat louder, faster. Why, she was sitting right beside her, wasn’t she? But a quick turn toward the passenger seat told her the answer. Maybe she’d already left. Maybe she really had been looking for her and not Dayne Matthews. She smiled at the police officer again. “She’s doing some shopping. That’s why I’m here, just waiting for her.”

  The officer narrowed his eyes and moved closer. Then he stooped down and stared at her cheek. “Ma’am, has someone hurt you recently?”

  “No, sir.” She smoothed her shirt and set her purse back on the seat beside her. Her heartbeat fell silent and slow. “I told you, everything’s fine.”