“I’m not due on set to...” She stopped herself, remembering that she wasn’t shooting with Kitt. She had a TV appearance today. A film that was finished a year and a half ago was finally being released and she had a press interview to promote it. “Oh, right. I have to be her again this morning.”
A flicker of anxiety pinged through her. Would she look good enough? Would the camera operator be one who flattered or was careless? She mentally reviewed her talking points.
“I’ve got the tan-colored suit for you with the midnight blue blouse if you’re still feeling good about that,” Anush offered.
“Which shoes?”
“The brown slingbacks.”
“Okay.” Luna moaned and stretched like a cat. She didn’t want to get out of bed and face the morning, but she had to.
“Why don’t you bring Charlie along? That ought to make the day sweeter.” Silence. “I’m winking even though you can’t see it.”
Silence again.
“Luna?” Anush coaxed.
“Charlie went back to England.”
“Why?”
“There was no point in him staying.”
The night before last, they’d agreed that they weren’t going to be able to turn the magic they’d found at Dorada into something long-lasting. Luna had been due early on set again yesterday, so she’d gone to bed. She’d sensed Charlie all night on the chaise in the alcove she’d assigned as his space. His rustling told her that he hadn’t slept much, either. In the morning, they were like professionals who had completed a deal. They thanked each other for the time they’d shared. He gave her a matter-of-fact kiss on the cheek before slipping into the back seat of the car he’d arranged to take him the airport. Luna, barefoot and in a thin pink robe, had stood outside and watched the car take the curves in the road away from her house before she let her tears fall.
“Luna, you’re one of the most glittering stars on the planet. Men find you beautiful. Women want to be you. What is it you want?”
Charlie. She wanted Charlie. Nothing had ever felt as good as being with him in Puerto Rico had. There, she felt safe. Accepted. Looked after but respected at the same time. Heard.
She hadn’t been able to keep that fire kindled once they got back to LA. The pressure was too much. It was understandable. She’d just returned from a year away, when she’d learned to manage her shadows. How to see them for what they were. To circumvent negative thoughts before they turned into destructive behaviors. She was a work in progress but she’d made leaps and bounds from where she was a year ago, when she’d hidden in that dark place of denial, alone, keeping secrets.
Of course, she could see in hindsight that it had been too much to bring Charlie into that complex fold before she’d even had a chance to sort it out. Yet they couldn’t haved said goodbye at Dorada. What they’d shared there was too special, they’d come to mean too much to each other. It was an honest mistake of hers to invite him here, but a mistake nonetheless.
Maybe someday she would have enough distance from the phony priorities that had brought her down and she could think about finding a man who didn’t care when the public inevitably moved on to the next pretty face. Perhaps after her star had faded she could find someone to live out a companionable existence with. Although she’d always know that she let the one slip away because she’d convinced herself she wasn’t ready for him. Anguish overtook her until she could barely breathe. Logic didn’t make sense. There was only her heart aching to put her hand in his and trudge the road as one. Was someone ever ready for love?
Love.
She was in love with Charlie. The words bounced from left to right, front to back in her mind. In love. In. Love. It was an active state, present tense. In. Love. The most amazing thing that had ever happened to her. And yet he was over five thousand miles away and out of her life.
* * *
The crew at the taping studio where Luna was to do her interview had her sit every which way while they adjusted lights and sound. The interviewer, Blick Jenson, host of a widely watched entertainment news program, was known for pushing outside of the agreed-upon topics. As it was, her emotions were raw, so she was apprehensive, and would remain on guard until the segment was over. Once they began, as an actress she easily spoke with enthusiasm about the role that had actually bored her to tears. She had only complimentary things to say about yet another director who had made her feel like a plastic doll under his command.
True to form, Blick began probing. “Luna, we haven’t seen you in a year. Will you share with us where you’ve been and why you took a break from Hollywood?”
Definitely not a subject on the approved list. She bristled, resentful at him for not following the rules of respect, for putting her on the spot. Luna’s management team had decided that absolutely nothing would be said about her absence. She’d simply pick up where she left off and the public’s curiosity would die down soon enough. Movies were released on all sorts of odd schedules relative to when they were shot, and she’d swiftly make up for lost time.
Yet as she was about to pivot his question to something safer, that bubbling fountain in her belly began to fizz. Only this time it wasn’t because her eating disorder was possessing her body, about to make her undo all of the hard work she’d done in Kentucky. No, it was quite the opposite. Those bubbles had become her power. Her truth.
Charlie. How much she’d learned from him! He was incapable of pretending, whereas Luna was a master at pretend. He was who he was while Luna had made a fortune being anyone except herself. But no longer.
“I haven’t shared this before,” she told Blick, whose eyes widened as he leaned forward from his chair opposite her with interest. Of course, he was as bloodthirsty as the rest, eager for an exclusive scoop. “I was in treatment...for an eating disorder.”
The crew, from electrician to lighting tech to makeup artist, froze in their tracks. A pin dropping would have sounded like thunder.
But the words had already fallen out of Luna’s mouth. There was no stopping now. Nor did she want to. This would be the next phase of her healing. No longer in the shadows. She continued, “Those of us in front of the cameras are very blessed to be in our professions. When people think of celebrities, they often imagine us as having perfect lives, and looking perfect while having them. Moviemakers deliver to the public a fantasy, a getaway from real life and human problems. Representing that escape took its toll on me. I became sick with anorexia nervosa. Once I realized how bad it had gotten and how much I needed help, I went into a recovery program.”
As the hush continued to permeate the set, Blick asked more and more questions until Luna had told him, and the entire world, everything there was to tell. It was absolutely cathartic. Her lungs expanded, her vision sharpened. It was one of the crowning moments of her life, especially when she considered that her confession might be able to help others who were struggling with eating disorders to come out from the dark. If she’d been able to hold a torch for even one person’s path, her entire position of fame was worthwhile. She wouldn’t let the world judge her for who she was anymore and a feeling of freedom swept over her like a bird in the wind of a limitless sky.
It was almost peace. But there was something essential missing. Something that she’d never find true tranquility or inner wellness without. Something that was six feet tall with nakedly green eyes, and whose embrace gave her those wings. That was another truth that had become clear on this day of candor. She was entitled to a pure and healthy relationship. One where she could love and be loved with complete sincerity. That’s what she wanted. She wasn’t going to let her fame, or her eating disorder, take that from her. She’d never experienced anything even close to the joy and honesty she’d had with Charlie. She didn’t have to live without it and she wasn’t going to.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“MEET ME BACK at the villa,” Charlie demanded. It was dawn in Buckinghamshire, w
hich meant late at night in Los Angeles. But he hadn’t been able to wait even one day to place the call that his gut had been fighting for.
“Charlie?”
“When can you take a few days off from filming?”
Standing out on the stone terrace outside of his bedroom, he surveyed the gardens and grounds of his property. The estate had come back to life all of a sudden, even though that wasn’t literally possible. It was he who had reignited his own light inside and that made everything look brighter. His grass was the greenest green and the marble was a reflection of his inner gleam. The trees had never been taller, the pond was shimmering, the ducks stately. This home that he had bought to raise a family in had waited for him. During all the grey years, when he’d shuffled like an automaton up and down the polished halls, the house never gave up. Now, all the curtains were drawn back again. Sunshine filled the rooms, and soon the leaves would fall, followed by the winter snow, before spring would bloom anew once again. Charlie wasn’t going to be in a daze for even one moment of it. Every leaf would have his full attention. Because he was in love again.
“Let’s talk about it at the café in Viejo San Juan, where we ate the grilled eggplant with honey.” He thought of how sultry Luna was in those Taino earrings he’d bought and how he couldn’t take his hands off her. What he hadn’t realized then was that she held his heart in her hand. And always would.
“I’m glad you called. I had this interview and—”
“Yes, I saw it!” Which was why he couldn’t wait another minute to talk to her. He’d been all but bursting open with pride. “I want to hear every detail about it. In person. Tell that pipsqueak of a director that you have a personal matter that needs immediate attention. I’ll send my plane tomorrow.”
“As it happens, during the next few days Kitt is shooting some action sequences that, of course, I’m not in.”
“Oh, I could kiss that little weasel after all. I’ll arrange all of your transportation. See you at the villa.” He tapped off the call with his skin tingling.
* * *
When Luna stepped onto the plane at the private hangar at LAX, her jaw dropped open. “Charlie! What are doing here? I thought I was meeting you at Dorada.”
“I thought so, too. Until I realized that meant I’d have to wait seven extra hours to see you. So I decided to come get you myself.” Charlie had been standing just inside the entrance door so that Luna wouldn’t see him until she boarded the plane.
His flight crew milled about but smiled at the prank. They must have sensed his excitement and the sea change within him. Though he’d never been an ogre, he was probably unpleasant to be around as he traversed the globe when AMgen business demanded it, but never with any gusto for travel. Never any gusto for anything.
Once Luna stepped all the way into the cabin, the crew backed away and Charlie threw his arms around her waist, lifted her off the ground and twirled her in a circle. “By the way, I love you,” he said into her ear, having forced himself to wait until they were in person to utter those three crucial words.
She leaned back her head and stared at him with those clear blue eyes. “You do?”
Talking to himself in the moment, he fought not to feel rejected by her lack of I love you, too. His exuberance was probably not what she expected, and she hadn’t known all of the conclusions that had become clear to him once he’d returned to England. It would be all right, he counseled himself. Once they got back to the villa everything would fall into place.
After the flight took off, the attendants brought out an extravagant meal of lobster to start, followed by a creamy pasta, but as they flew across the US, he could tell Luna was regarding him with caution. Like she was deciding something. He didn’t like it. He’d become so confident and sure of his feelings for her. It would have been so much easier if she’d been able to do the same. But he could wait, he kept reassuring himself. He’d been getting ready for her for ten years, he just hadn’t realized it. What were a few more days, or even weeks?
* * *
While they watched a movie to pass the time, Luna dozed off. Then after using the plane’s grandly appointed bathroom, she emerged freshened up. He stared deep into her eyes, hoping the love that was overflowing within him would radiate around them and flow inside her. Instead of the smile he’d hoped to receive, though, her mouth flattened into a straight line as she sat down next to him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just don’t know if I can have someone look at me the way you do.”
“Why?”
“Because what if you stop? What happens when you see a side of me you don’t like? When I’m too boring for you? I don’t want to get accustomed to someone showering me with care like that.”
“Well, you’d better get used to it. Because I’m going to be doing it for the rest of our lives.”
Her brow furrowed.
It was okay. He’d show her. He’d have to.
* * *
“Welcome back to Recurso Llave Dorada,” the manager, Juan Carlos, exclaimed as he ushered Luna and Charlie into the golf cart. Motoring along the familiar path that led to La Villa de Felicidad, Luna flushed with striking memories of the private fantasy world she and Charlie had created. She closed her eyes. The resort did have a particular smell like nowhere else, of fragrant plants native to the area, and Charlie’s warm arm pressed against her was divine. The sea air running through her hair made her feel at one with the island.
Once Juan Carlos departed after unloading their luggage, Charlie wrapped an arm around Luna’s waist and brought her to him for a homecoming kiss that pulled her up on her toes. While they’d kissed on the plane, they hadn’t been alone. Now the privacy of the villa was theirs once more. Her arms wound around his neck before she’d asked them to, so instinctive was her draw to him. Birds chirped in the background as they kissed and then kissed some more.
In fact, it was the most natural thing in the world when he picked her up into his arms and carried her to the master bedroom, where they had given themselves to one another in every way. Clothes flew off and the plush bedding was tossed back. Luna didn’t know where her hands and mouth wanted to go first, she longed for him so. Running the tip of her tongue down the length of his neck, the familiar taste of his skin was spicy and salty and sweet all at once. The moan coming from his vocal cords vibrated against her lips. His sound excited her further, thrumming in her core, driving her. They brought each other to the clouds before collapsing, breathless for the moment. After a while Charlie dozed off, giving Luna immense satisfaction that his body and mind were resting.
Lying in his arms, though, trepidation was a cruel overseer, making sure Luna didn’t completely relax. This was now the third go-round with Charlie in only three weeks’ time. In LA, after the interview, she’d been secure that she was ready to keep Charlie as hers forever. Once she boarded his plane, however, she wasn’t so sure. It hit her that they’d somehow met both the best and the worst of each other but nothing in the middle. What would the realities of the day-in-and-day-out pain he’d always carry look like and how would she manage a lifetime commitment to keep the monster that lived inside of her caged? What if they gave one another their all, but they couldn’t make their partnership work? Both stood the chance of total destruction. Now she was filled with uncertainty. She stared at the ceiling, chewing on her lip.
* * *
That night, they had a late dinner in the courtyard. Charlie was barefoot, in a loose linen shirt and pants that swayed a bit with the breeze—he looked like the picture of easygoing handsomeness. Not only liberated from the suits and ties his prominence and power dictated, but also shorn of the hipster clothes he’d worn in LA to blend into her world. Which version was the real him, after a fortnight had rocked their old selves to the ground?
“You haven’t told me how your interview was received,” Charlie said and then reached across the
table to take one of her hands in his.
“Kitt was livid, of course. Why should the focus be on my well-being while he was shooting a blockbuster I didn’t even mention? Likewise, I was supposed to be promoting a film I shot ages ago, not talking about my personal transformation.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“My team was in shock, too, that I talked about it so openly after we’d had several meetings to discuss the strategy and I had agreed with the decision not to mention my eating disorder at all.”
“What changed your mind?”
She paused. Had a sip of the sparkling water that had been poured into a stemmed glass. The answer she was going to give was complete and accurate. “You.”
Charlie’s mouth hitched into a grin. “Me?”
“You showed me that it’s okay to be who I am. You make me feel like I don’t owe anyone anything except my authentic self.”
“And how did the public react to that?” Reassuringly, he stroked the top of her hand back and forth with the pad of his thumb.
“Social media went crazy. It was one of the top trending topics.”
“Positive or negative?”
“Both. One contingent appreciating that I shed light on an important subject that affects hundreds of thousands of people. Once I calmed my publicist down, I got her to post eating-disorder helplines and links for people reading who might be in need.”
“That’s wonderful. How could there be anything but praise for your courage?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“What do you mean?”
She picked up her phone and scrolled.
Luna Price, who has made a fortune on her enviably svelte physique, now tells Hollywood that it’s put too much pressure on her. Talk about biting the hand that doesn’t feed you.
It’s somehow someone else’s fault that Luna Price can’t live up to her own image. The typical self-obsession that makes movie stars into clichés.
Caribbean Nights with the Tycoon Page 14
