Broken Glamour

by Maggie Marr

  “My zipper!” I pulled up the zipper. I turned to Kiley. There were lots of Kileys. Looking at all those Kileys made me wobble. She stood in front of her three-way mirror examining the big white balloon-shaped thing that she called a dress. I reached for the bed and put a hand on my head.

  “She will either keep her mouth closed or she will pay,” Kiley said. She twisted and turned in front of the mirror. “She will not ruin this for me. This wedding has been in the works for a very long time. There is no way that Steve would let your sad little attempt ruin that.” She pressed her hands over the front of her gown.

  Her cold gaze landed on me. Poor Steve, the man was marrying this bitch.

  “Ryan,” Kiley said. “Get the hell out.”

  Chapter 2

  Amanda

  “Daddy, can I speak with you?” He turned away from his agent, Buddy.

  “What is it, doll?”

  My front teeth clamped down on my pinky nail, but I didn’t bite down. My father’s eyes followed my hand. Recognition of my former nail-biting habit flickered in his eyes. The summer after Mom died my fingernail beds had been swollen bloody nubs.

  “It’s personal.” The corners of my mouth lifted and I flashed my pretend smile toward Buddy.

  Buddy nodded and slipped over toward the group of groomsmen. All of the groomsmen were present, except for Ryan, of course. He was busy banging my father’s bride in my father’s bedroom.

  “I’m all yours, Doll,” Daddy said.

  My heart thudded in my chest. Tendrils of panic curled in my gut and reached upward into my throat. I’d never been good at talking to my father.

  “By the way, Doll, you’re the best-looking woman here, aside from the bride.” The corner of his mouth curved into his wicked Legend smile.

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  He was, as our name stated, a legend. Even as his daughter, I wasn’t immune to the intensity of his gaze.

  “What is it, Doll? What’s got you so bothered?”

  “I …” My throat closed up. The giant lump filled my throat. This would ruin his day, his wedding, and possibly break his heart. I disliked Kiley, but I wanted my father to be happy, to find love. Heat pricked the back of my eyes.

  “Honey?” His hand grasped my elbow and he leaned toward me ear. “Not here, Amanda,” he whispered. “Come with me.”

  Daddy pulled me down the long hall to the study. We walked into the masculine room with the dark woods and rich leathers. He closed the door. Now I was nervous and upset.

  “Okay, tell me what’s got you all worked up.”

  “I just walked in on Kiley.” My teeth chewed my bottom lip. I closed my eyes and air rushed into my lungs. I opened my eyes. Daddy stared at me, a worried smile on his lips. “With someone?”

  The smile slid from his face. His empathy for me, that had just played soft and sweet across his face, slipped from his features.

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”

  He didn’t hug me. He didn’t touch me. He turned and walked out the door.

  I sank onto the couch. I felt sick. I was uncertain how long I sat with my eyes closed. How long had I wished for this to be a different day. How long had I sat and remembered those times when our family had been Daddy, Mom, Sterling, and me. The door opened and I turned my head.

  “You okay?” Lane asked. She stood just inside the door to the study.

  “Yeah, how is my dad?” I asked.

  “He’s fine. We’re getting ready to line up. I wanted to see if you needed anything. I brought you these”—she held out four ibuprofen—“for your headache.”

  “My headache?”

  Lane crinkled her eyebrows and tilted her head. “You do have a headache, don’t you?”

  I exhaled a deep breath of air. “Where is Kiley?”

  “Last minute touch-ups on makeup,” Lane said.

  Of course, Daddy had decided, like he always did, to go for image over substance. The big Hollywood action star marrying the hot new female star. I’d been honest with my father. I’d done what I needed to do. My conscience was clear. Now I would play the perfect daughter, in the perfect all-American family. I’d walk down the aisle and look like the happiest girl in the world. But Kiley was wrong about one thing, though. Daddy did believe me. Of that I was certain.

  Boom Boom swept into the room. Her thick black hair was blunt cut at her shoulders, her bangs a sharp line above her eyes. She wore a black dress and heels. Boom Boom didn’t smile. This “situation” was similar to all kinds of “situations” my father paid Boom Boom to manage for him.

  “Amanda, my darling,” Boom Boom said, as she came to stand beside Lane and me.

  Her voice was like shards of ice against my skin. She tilted her head in a comforting way, but her gaze was hard.

  “Darling, I’ve called for your car and I’ve spoken with Kiley. She completely understands if you need to leave now.” Boom Boom knew how to take care of the problem that was me and my “story.”

  “I bet she does.” My voice sounded flat. I was schooled in this kind of treatment. I’d been trained since I could talk to manage my emotions. I’d worked with people like Boom Boom my entire life. Anything unpleasant or unseemly was taken care of by the PR agency employed by my father. We Legends were meant to pretend that bad things didn’t happen.

  “He’s going through with it.”

  “Darling, of course he is, why wouldn’t he?”

  “Don’t shovel the shit with me, Boom Boom,” I said.

  A sharp pain hit my chest after my words sprang from my lips. Lane jerked her gaze from Boom Boom to me and her lips took the shape of a surprised O. Instead of looking offended, Boom Boom actually smiled. She could appreciate the blunt words of a Hollywood veteran.

  “Look, darling,” Boom Boom said. “All I know for certain is that your father is concerned for your health and thinks that you should either go home now or immediately after the ceremony.”

  “Am I missing something?” Lane asked. A furrow creased her brow.

  “I walked in on Ryan attempting to have sex with Kiley in my father’s bedroom,” I said. Guilt surged through me and heat flushed my neck for telling the truth and breaking all the Legend rules.

  “No headache?” Lane asked.

  “No headache,” I said. “Aside from the one my father is about to marry.”

  Boom Boom made no comment. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Hers was a janitorial position. Boom Boom received a large retainer from my father and Kiley to clean up any mess they might find themselves in.

  “I’ll leave after the ceremony,” I said. If Daddy was going to dive headfirst into the abyss, I wanted to be there to witness the event.

  “Sounds good. I’ll have a car waiting.” Boom Boom walked to the door and paused. Her brown eyes narrowed onto me. “Amanda, I know you understand the importance of a Legend-Kepner wedding. Do your best, won’t you? For your father.”

  Boom Boom shut the door. I looked at Lane.

  “I have been in L.A. for over a year,” Lane said, “and I still don’t get it.”

  “Simple,” I said. “Daddy spent over a million on a wedding. He has the hottest sexiest star in the world set to marry him, and he’s hopeful some of her youth and vitality will rub off on him. His ego couldn’t bear a story about Kiley choosing to have sex with, or trying to have sex with, a guy a third his age on their wedding day.” I closed my eyes. “I shouldn’t have told him.”

  “You told him?”

  I nodded.

  “Of course you told him,” Lane said. “How could you live with yourself if you hadn’t told him?” Her arm settled onto my shoulders.

  “Oh, Lane,” I said. “I could fill thousands of pages of all the things I haven’t told my father. I don’t know how I can continue with him and Kiley since I did tell him. I just need to get through today and then get the hell out of L.A.”

  Heat prickled the backs of my eyes. My heart ached. I hated this.
I hated that ever since I was fourteen and my mother died there had been a parade of women in my father’s life. These women loved being Steve Legend’s wife, but they didn’t seem to love Steve Legend.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go, we wouldn’t want to hold up the wedding.”

  Ryan

  “You can’t leave now!”

  Dillon turned away from the French doors. His arm was tucked around Lane’s shoulders. He’d become such a pansy homebody since he’d shacked up with Lane. Granted she had a great ass and some nice tits—but there wasn’t a woman yet that could make me hang up my party hat.

  The tunes were thumping and I held a girl in each arm. I broke free of the babes and walked over to Dillon. I stumbled over a chair and managed to grab his shoulders before landing on my ass. Our agent, Webber, walked up and stood beside Dillon.

  “You took his keys, right?” Dillon asked Webber.

  “Yes, and I’ve got a car ready to take him home.” Webber tapped his iPhone.

  A smile slid over my face. Dummies. Both of them dummies. Of course I gave Webber a set of my car keys, because these two always made me hand over my car keys. I liked to party, but I wasn’t an idiot. Inside my left front pocket was the real set of car keys. The set that actually started my Carrera.

  “Dude, it’s okay.” I patted Dillon’s chest, “if I had a girl with tits like that” —I jerked my thumb toward Lane— “I’d go home too.”

  Dillon’s mouth tightened.

  “Easy, killer,” Webber said. “We all know that nobody holds Ryan accountable for the shit he says when he’s drunk.”

  I leaned toward Dillon. “Dude, it’s true.”

  “Okay, buddy,” Webber said and grasped my arm, “it’s time to go.”

  “No way!” I jerked my arm from Webber’s grasp. I spun. The world wobbled and I grabbed the back of a chair. “Just because Mr. MacAvoy is an old almost-married fuddy-duddy ready to go home doesn’t mean I am. I came to party.” I raised my hands over my head. The tent tilted and I did a little sidestep shuffle. So smooth.

  “Take care of him,” Dillon said. He wrapped his arm around Lane. “See you next week, man.”

  I grabbed two bimbettes and we sashayed to the dance floor. I had plenty of game left before I went home.

  Ryan Sinclair Critical After Car Accident

  Ryan Sinclair, the famous bad-boy actor known for his hard-partying ways, was involved in a near-fatal accident off Malibu Canyon Road at 2 a.m. Sunday morning. Sinclair was on his way home from attending the much-publicized wedding of Steve Legend and Kiley Kepner. It is assumed Sinclair fell asleep behind the wheel and his Porsche Carrera swerved off Malibu Canyon Road. Rescue crews arrived on scene to find Sinclair unconscious and suffering multiple injuries. Sinclair is best known for his roles in A Man Always Remembers, Suicide Mission, Ranger Mission 1, and Ranger Mission 2. He recently signed on for Ranger Mission 3—Revenge. Sinclair remains in intensive care at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles.

  Chapter 3

  Six weeks later…

  Amanda

  Barney Greengrass was filled to capacity. Soon this small cafe that sat on the top floor of Barney’s would close forever. I bit into a piece of red potato in my salade Niçoise and looked around the room. The usual spattering of trophy wives, agents, executives, and actresses filled the dining room. I’d been lunching at Barney’s since Kiley and I were little girls, tagging along with my mother and her friends while they shopped and drank wine and shopped some more. There was a table for two across the dining room where Kiley and I used to sit and sip lemonade and eat French fries and burgers, all the while pretending to be heiresses on an exotic trip to Beverly Hills. I speared a green bean with my fork. Good-bye happy childhood memory.

  “Are you packed?” The sadness in Lane’s eyes betrayed her light tone.

  “I am,” I said. I dabbed my mouth with my napkin. This was our last L.A. lunch before I left for New York. “I fly out tomorrow.”

  “The jet?”

  I nodded. The private jet was a huge perk to being Daddy’s daughter. I had access to a plane that could take me anywhere in the world.

  “I’ll be back this fall and then for your wedding. You can come to New York any time you want.”

  A small smile glimmered across Lane’s face. “I know you’ve wanted this for a long time and it’s a great internship that you’ve got lined up. I’m just being selfish. I’m going to miss you.” She was my friend and I knew she was trying to be happy for me.

  Our server stopped at the table and dropped off the check. I reached for my bag and pulled out my card and handed both to our server.

  “Is your dad back?”

  With the mention of Daddy, my heart beat a little faster in my chest. “I haven’t spoken to him since the wedding,” I said. “Sterling said Daddy was going straight to set in the Amazon after the honeymoon. I think Kiley got back to L.A. yesterday.”

  An ache settled in my chest. Daddy hadn’t e-mailed or texted while he was away. His lack of communication was unusual, even on one of his honeymoons. Was my biggest fear coming true?

  “How’s Ryan?” I asked.

  “He gets out of Clarity tomorrow.” Lane pressed her lips together.

  “He’s lucky to be alive,” I said. “Most people don’t survive launching their cars over the edge of Malibu Canyon Road.” I reached into my bag and searched for my gloss. “Have you seen him?”

  “Dillon goes to see him. I went to the hospital a couple of times and then I saw him the first week he was at Clarity.”

  Our server returned. Her eyelids flickered. “I’m sorry, Miss Legend?”

  “Hmm?” I said as I dug through my bag, hunting for my lip gloss. My purse was a mess. How much stuff did one person need?

  “Miss Legend,” the server lowered her voice and leaned closer to me.

  I looked up.

  “I’m sorry, but your card was declined.”

  The air whooshed from my lungs. “Declined?” Heat flamed my cheeks. “How could it be—”

  She shook her head and raised a shoulder.

  “Let me get it,” Lane said.

  “No.” I held up my hand and opened my wallet. “It’s got to be some weird thing with my dad’s business manager. What with the wedding and all the events.” I fished out another one of the cards in my wallet. “Use this one.” I handed her a different card. Relief flashed on her face. She took the bill and the new card and retreated.

  Three cards later, Lane handed the server her Visa. My belly bottomed out and fear gripped me. Every one of my credit cards had failed. Even my debit card was declined. I left for New York tomorrow. The time was nearly 3 p.m. I had a little cash, but no credit card and no idea if I could use my bank account.

  This was bad.

  “Oh my God, what about tomorrow?” Lane asked as though she could read my mind. Her wide-eyed gaze searched my face.

  My fear widened and pulsed upward. I closed my eyes. What about tomorrow?

  “Do you think … do you think your father is in trouble?” Lane asked. “Financially?”

  I tossed back my head and a giant laugh rolled from my mouth. The sound was harsh even to my ears. The tone crackled with anger and fear. I couldn’t contain it. My father having financial problems was beyond comprehension. I shook my head. My lips tightened and a wry smile pulled up the corners of my mouth. Panic and hurt and anger forced the unvarnished truth from me. “The only trouble my father has is Kiley,” I said. “This is her doing.” I waved a worthless Visa card over the table. “And I have a sad sick feeling this won’t end here.”

  Ryan

  “Grant me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, the strength to change the things that I can, and the wisdom to know the difference, Amen.” The men and women around me stopped speaking. There was a collective exhale. We’d all held our breath to get through the words, to get through the meeting, to get through another day without the booze and the drugs.

/>   I wanted the booze and I wanted the drugs and I desperately wanted the coke—jeez the fucking buzz that came with the coke. I shut my eyes and licked my lips. A sharp tingle crawled through my nose. I opened my eyes. Around me were some hard-core addicts with some high-class problems. I’d just spent twenty-eight days in the most exclusive rehab facility in the world and I could barely stand the idea of going another day without a shot of whiskey and a chaser of cocaine.

  “One day at a time, Ryan, one day at a time.”

  Barrett stood beside me. He was a counselor at Clarity. His world-class baseball career had been cut short by a world-class mistake. The long, mean scar that ran down his arm—the result of a DUI car accident—had ended his baseball career.

  When I woke up in the hospital a month ago with tubes everywhere and cracked ribs and a gash over my eye, I couldn’t remember what had happened the night I crashed. I couldn’t remember where I’d been that day, or the whole prior week. Once they got me on my feet they sent me here. I was blotto when the accident happened. The doctors said I might never remember the events leading to the crash. All I knew from that day and that night was what people told me. I’d gone to the Legend/Kepner wedding. I stood up as a groomsman for Steve. I partied like the undeniable star I am. I got in my car. I turned up Malibu Canyon Road. I drove off a cliff.

  Did I remember the wedding? No. Did I remember the reception? No. Did I remember driving? No. Did I remember launching my car into space and then slamming down a cliff? No. And, if I was completely honest, and according to these twelve steps that now controlled my life I had to be, I hoped I never would remember.

  A dark chill slipped up my back and the muscles in my shoulders tightened. I pulled my head to the left and then to the right trying to release the tension.

  So lucky. Lucky to be alive. Lucky no one else was in the car. Lucky I didn’t kill anyone.

  “Hey, man, you’re out today, right?” Barrett asked.