by L A Pepper
“I am!” I said. I clutched him to me. We hadn’t talked about this, but I was. I wanted it. “I want to, James. I want to be your girlfriend.”
His smile broke open. Summer sun. “You do?”
“Of course I do! I want to do everything with you.”
“Except for this party.”
I took a breath to refute him but couldn’t, my mouth gaping like a fish.
“No. I get it. It’s not always great being in the public eye and I promised Bette I would protect you. Dragging you in front of the judge and jury of the fans, of HER fans? That’s not protecting you. We don’t have to tell anyone tonight. It can be a secret, just between you and me and the dogs. You can just be my friend to the rest of the world. You’ll be my secret girlfriend and no one will ever know.”
“Your dog walker.”
He widened his eyes at that and slapped my hip. “I don’t have a dog. You’re not my employee. You never have been, I’d like to remind you. You’re my neighbor and childhood friend.”
“We weren’t friends. We were archenemies.” If he was going to play, I could play, too.
He gasped, with fake offense. “We were never archenemies. You were hopelessly in love with me.”
I groaned. “You will never let me forget how pitiful I was, will you?” But I was laughing. He made me laugh. God, I liked him so much.
He leaned in and pushed my hair away from my ear. “I love you, Hannah,” he whispered.
My heart swelled three sizes, and I could do nothing but hold on to him. I nodded, trying to hold in my tears. Wanting to say it back but hardly able to think it to myself. I stayed in his arms, I didn’t know for how long. He just held me and that was what I wanted right now. Him. This. His love.
“You should probably let go of me at some point,” he whispered into my ear, gentle humor in his voice.
I shook my head. Still no words.
“You have to. I have to go downstairs before any guests get here, or they’ll know we’ve been up here together and no one, absolutely no one will believe I was upstairs with a woman who looks like you and wasn’t screwing you senseless.”
I broke out into laughter, and also tears. I felt foolish. Why was I crying? I pushed away and smacked him on the arm. “You made me ruin my makeup.” I wiped my eyes where I knew the tears had melted my mascara.
“You’re lovelier than ever.”
“Liar.”
He smiled at set me to my feet, straightening his clothes. “Come down when you’re ready. I’ll tell Bette that her scandalous other woman story is off the table. I can’t wait to see you pretending that you don’t want to have your hands all over me.”
He made me laugh again. “I think that will be you, James.”
He nodded, then kissed my lips. “We’ll see about that,” he said and left.
* * *
The party was an unqualified success. As far as I could tell. It was full of beautiful people, the kinds I read about. Bette glittered in her silver sparkling mini dress and had a cluster of pretty girls around her on a near constant basis. James held court wherever he went, charming the pants off everyone.
I could see the difference though. The way he was with me, was not the same as what I saw at this party. His smile wasn’t as wide and his eyes glittered without depth. He restrained the interest he showed in others.
I didn’t think any of them noticed. They all wanted to comfort him and sympathize over the divorce. “Oh, so sad,” they said with a head tilt. And James would nod politely, accepting it, his eyes shuttering and moving on to the next person.
“And how do you know James?” I was asked multiple times through the night, trying not to feel as if the “you” was emphasized because they didn’t think I fit in here with this fascinating crowd.
“I’m the neighbor,” I said and backed out of whatever conversation it was. I began to think that I hadn’t just been nervous about this party because of James and his ex-wife and his fame. It was starting to feel more like I wasn’t really ready to be in company yet around people. I used to be able to do this, this socializing. Tonight though, I found myself on the edges, looking for ways to distance myself. It had been years since I was out in a crowd, interacting with people without a man monitoring me, making sure I was proper, and showing him well. Making sure I didn’t step out of line. I felt like everyone was watching me and judging me even though I was perfectly clear that among all the important and sophisticated people here, I was background noise. Maybe pretty background noise, Bette wouldn’t have let me be there otherwise, but still background noise. So I stayed in the background, edging around clusters of people talking. Trying not to be noticed.
Reading through the spines of James’ library was good. There was a surprising collection of classic Greek and Roman literature. I hadn’t thought about him reading much, but Greek and Roman stuff? I’m not sure I could keep up with him on that. It was sexy. I imagined him reading Ovid. My fingers slid over the spines and I moved on to the bar where there was a bartender creating drinks perfectly designed to fit each individual guest, without them ever ordering.
“There’s no need,” I told him as he grinned and flourished some bottles, “I’ll just have a glass of white wine,” but he held up a hand to hold me off and shook and stirred and poured me a drink in a martini glass. “To match your beauty,” he said, as he garnished it with a lychee. “I call it ‘Moonlight.’” He handed it to me with a flourish.
“Stop. Did Bette put you up to this?”
“It’s my gift. To make delicious drinks that match each guest. Please, taste.”
I gasped. He had named it aptly. It tasted like moonlight the way it shivered on my tongue. “It’s wonderful!”
“Come back later, I’ll give you the recipe,” he said, and winked at me. I blinked, shocked. Had he really just flirted with me? But he turned to the next guest as if nothing had happened. I turned around, wondering if anyone had seen that, and there was James, watching me. He raised one eyebrow. He had noticed it. I blushed, nervous suddenly. Would he be mad that the bartender had hit on me? Would he think I had behaved poorly? Would he think I’d led the bartender on?
He made his way over to me. “Having fun?”
“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean—” I felt heat fill my face. Guilt. Fear.
He wrinkled his brows at me and took my elbow. “You’re not having fun?”
“No that’s not it. I wasn’t flirting with him.”
He looked surprised. “I’m quite sure you don’t need to do a thing to attract the man, Hannah, you are entrancing. Plus, I think he’s kind of loose. He made me a dirty martini of some sort and leered at me. I was sure it was an invitation.”
He nodded his head at the man who was, actually, looking back at us, his eyes sliding from James to me. “I think he might have an open invitation for both of us.”
He made me laugh. How did he always make me laugh? I put my hand on his bicep wanting to touch him more, feeling the pull towards him even now, knowing that this room was full of people who did not know about us and weren’t supposed to. “It’s a lovely party.” I wanted to pull him down and kiss him.
“I told you it would be you who wanted to put your hands all over me.” He smirked at me, delighted.
I laughed again. “James.”
He didn’t lean towards me, but the air got more intimate. “It’s okay, I don’t blame you, you look so beautiful, I want to put my hands all over you, too. But then I always do, don’t I? And then I want to wake up with you in my arms. Every day.” He smiled but otherwise looked unaffected by his words that stilled my heart in my chest. Until I looked into his eyes, to see what he could mean. The surface glitter that he showed to all these party guests was gone, instead, it was like looking all the way into his soul. “I’d love to show all these people that you’re mine, that I’m yours, but I can wait.” He nodded. “Don’t worry. Do you want me to get Bobby to keep you company? He just got here, and he asked to meet you...
as long as you realize that the stories he’ll tell you about me were all his fault. One hundred percent. And I am your innocent and perfect boyfriend.”
I blinked up at him, entranced by his deep, quiet voice. He was caring for me, respecting me, not letting it get too serious or too heavy, just being my James. I longed for him but I couldn’t touch him.
“When you’re ready to go home, come tell me and I’ll take you.”
“You can’t leave your party, James.”
“It’s Bette’s party. We all know I’m just the excuse.”
“What excuse are you making now, James?” The voice behind me was low and mellifluous, with a slight accent that intrigued me. I turned around to see a bronze-skinned man with ebony hair and a smile so white I was nearly blinded. “And to such a lovely lady,” he added, smoothly. “Up to his old tricks, I see.”
“Hannah, this is Bobby Tanger.”
“Ah, the bad influence.” I held out my hand to shake his. He took it and turned my wrist, lifting my knuckles to his lips. He kissed them.
“The beautiful Hannah. I see now why you have stolen his heart. I am sorry he got there before me.”
“All right, Romeo, that’s enough,” James plucked my hand from Bobby’s, and squeezed it, not letting it go, pulling me closer to him. This was not how we proved to the party guests that we weren’t a couple.
Bobby’s amber eyes twinkled. He winked at me. Everyone was winking at me tonight, but this one wasn’t flirtatious, it was trouble-making. He was messing with James.
“Don’t get any funny ideas about how far you can get by making a move on my girlfriend. We’re keeping it quiet for now and I can’t punch you in the face in the middle of Bette’s party, but I will definitely make you pay if you push it too far.”
“So she’s your girlfriend, hmm. Did you know about it this time, Hannah? Or is this just something he decided for you... you’d better be careful with this one, he’s used to getting what he wants.”
“I agreed to date him, Bobby. And I am fully aware that he’s used to getting his own way. He was my terror of a neighbor all growing up.”
“That’s right, you knew him before I did, didn’t you? You knew him before he was this smooth.”
I shook my head, thinking about the handsome boy who liked to walk about without a shirt and invite girls to his garden and tease his annoying neighbor until she tried to start a brawl. “Oh no. He’s always been this smooth, but I’ve been onto his game for a long time. I thought he’d start fewer brawls by this age.”
Bobby laughed and slung an arm around my shoulders. “I like her, Jamesy. You may have competition.”
“Listen—” James started, holding up a finger in warning when the front door banged open and a vision of golden loveliness strode in, ignoring the girl who was there to take coats. Everyone turned to her, and she flung her arms out.
“James! I’m home!” Brigitte LaFontaine, James’ wife, strode in. Her blonde hair flowed down her back like a river and she wore a scarlet mini dress that was so low cut, I could nearly see her navel. Ex-wife.
“What the hell is she doing here?” James hissed. I didn’t know if he was talking to me or Bobby, his eyes had become that glacier shade of blue.
“I don’t know. I didn’t tell her. I hate her. Do you think Bette would have?” Bobby said, his voice low, all traces of teasing or charm gone.
“No. No way. She hates her, too. What the hell? She’s planning something. What the hell? I knew she’d never let me leave so easily, not while I could still give her good press in the gossip rags.”
“Don’t worry, James,” I said, “I don’t mind.” I don’t know why I said it, I did mind. I felt like the frizzy headed geek I’d always been, nevermind the sleek dress and Bette directed makeover. I felt like I didn’t belong. I felt like I was unworthy, a nobody, a fool, a worm. She was so beautiful. Brigitte LaFontaine lit up the room like a bonfire. I couldn’t help staring at her from across the room. No one could. She was the reason why they invented the word star.
“Get Hannah out of here, Bobby, before she turns her claws on her.” James had his arm around me protectively and Bobby stepped into my other side.
Then her blue eyes lit on me, and I felt like a mouse, caught in a predator’s game. She straightened her shoulders, and the crowd parted before her. The force of her intention moved everyone from the path between her and what she wanted and what it was she wanted seemed to be… me.
“Too late, Jamesy,” Bobby said, regretfully. Bobby’s arm took the place of James’ as James stepped in front of me, trying to stop Brigitte’s path.
“James, my love, there you are. Are you hiding her from me?”
“Hiding who?”
She was even more perfect up close than she was from afar. Her eyes sparkled like sapphires, her cheekbones were so sharp they could cut glass, her lips were full and pouty and she was sleek and tanned and terrifying.
She leaned in as if she were going to whisper but her voice was pitched for the room to hear. “Your childhood sweetheart, James. The one you left me for.”
There was an audible gasp, as the crowd turned and stared.
“That’s not at all what happened,” I said, pushing in front of James to confront her. It wasn’t true. I didn’t want to be that mouse anymore. She was about nine inches taller than me with her sky-high heels. I didn’t even know how she could wear heels that high. “I was here when he came back, dog sitting. I hadn’t even seen him in ten years. He certainly didn’t leave you for me.”
A camera flashed.
“Hannah,” James said, “Don’t.”
“But that’s not what happened, James. I didn’t. You didn’t. You didn’t cheat on her. And I’m not some kind of homewrecker.”
I could almost hear the word echo around the room.
He stepped in front of me, turning so that his broad back was to the crowd and he placed his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sorry we couldn’t keep it quiet longer, I know you wanted to.” He looked over at Bobby who was glaring darkly at Brigitte. “Take her home for me, Tanger. I have to deal with something.”
“I’m sorry, James,” I said my voice barely audible.
He inclined his head towards me. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Hannah. You did nothing wrong. You’re perfect. This is my mess, and I dragged you into it.”
“This party was crap, anyway.” A bald-faced lie.
“It’s such crap, Bette is going to be booked for months.”
“Really, James. I’m standing right here.” Brigitte’s voice was screechy. No, it wasn’t. It was like wind chimes. I hated her.
“Unfortunately,” he said to her, without looking away from me. “Go with Bobby. He’ll keep the hyenas away from you. If I make a scene, do you think you can slip back to your place through the garden without being seen?” His words were only for me.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice nearly gone again. “This was a disaster. I’m so sorry.”
He smiled. “I get to be your boyfriend in public now, at least. Not such a disaster for me, I’ve been dying to take you out and wine and dine you and give you everything you deserve.”
“So used to getting what you want.”
“James!” This time her voice was a screech. I giggled.
“Not right now I’m not.” He kissed me firmly. “Go,” he said and turned toward the scarlet and gold harpy. Voices rose almost immediately.
“Come on,” Bobby said, taking my elbow and shoving his way through the crowd out the French doors, and into the cool air and blessed calm of the garden.
Bobby dropped me at my house with no one even noticing we’d slipped through the garden, and then he went back, promising me to rip Brigitte into shreds if James hadn’t already done the job.
“If James isn’t good to you,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “I’ll take the job.”
“Thanks,” I said, not really thinking he meant anything by it. It was just hi
s natural competition with James, he was being a guy, but it was sweet anyway. I closed the door on him and went to my bedroom, slipping out of the sleek ivory dress, and left it on the floor, along with the strappy sandals that had not NEARLY been spiked enough to stand up to the force of Brigitte LaFontaine. I tugged on my comfiest sweats and t-shirt and tied my hair up into a knot. Then went for the PB&J with saltines. This was as close as I could get to the hors d’oeuvres that I missed at the party and I was really sad about that because I had been looking forward to trying the salmon tartare and the pancetta and fontina cheese puffs and the tower of miniature French pastries and all the other gorgeous food. It was no fair. I had to deal with my worst fears at that party and got none of the lovely treats. Well, I had the cocktail, but I’d never have it again because the flirty bartender never gave me the recipe. That was just not fair. I don’t know why I thought anything about the party would turn out well. That was the story of my life.
I crunched into some crackers and sent PB&J crumbs raining down my front, and I put on a movie. Oh good. Sense and Sensibility was on. I ended up crying halfway through, cuddled against my couch cushions, and fell asleep like that.
I woke with a start to James lifting me into his arms. “Shhh,” he said. “I’m taking you to your bed.”
It felt good having his arms around me. I was sad. I felt stupid for being sad. I knew he’d just gotten divorced. I knew she was a movie star. I knew it was complicated, but I’d been pretending we existed outside of the real world. Dumb. So I kept being dumb and put my arms around his neck and rested my head on his shoulder because he made me feel better.
“I’ve taken care of everything, sweetheart. She won’t bother us again.”
I said nothing. I didn’t quite believe it. He’d been a fantasy, a dream, and now it was over.
“Hannah, everything is good. We’re good. We can be public. I can take you out and show you off now. It will be okay.”
