“What do you mean? He thinks you’re great!”
Rorie breathed in deeply, struggling with how to convey the problem so Cecily could understand. “No, I mean … it's so much more complicated than it used to be and, I don't know … I thought I could do temporary. I really did. But it's always all or nothing when it comes to you. And I know all is out of the question.”
Rorie saw the change on Cecily's face as her words sunk in.
“Don't say that. Nothing is just as impossible. Look, I have to be here for the fundraiser, but come over later tonight and we'll sort it out.”
Rorie shook her head slowly. She knew where that would lead, right back to the same place. “I don’t think so, Cici. We could both use a night alone to think. We can talk after that.”
The image of Cecily’s face stayed with her as she walked to her car. Alluring and impossible. It was the face that had haunted her dreams since college. And that was the problem. Nothing had changed since then. Not the chemistry between them, the way they brought out the best—and the worst—in one another. Not the roller coaster of emotions they cycled through a hundred times a day. And, no matter how much she wished it weren’t true, not the inevitable and gut-wrenching end looming ahead.
Would it just be better to put an end to it now?
20
Cecily filled her travel mug with coffee in the Oakwood lunchroom. Morning rehearsal had ended early and she found herself with several hours free, although how she would spend them she had no idea. Probably brooding over all the obstacles Rorie had pointed out, the ones she'd been hoping not to have to address.
Her first impulse was to find Rorie, just to spend time together, but after the whirlwind of the past few days, she was starting to think her impulses were best ignored. Like kissing Rorie on Saturday night. Maybe that impulse should’ve been kept on a very tight leash, after all. Although to be fair, she wasn’t completely convinced she’d started it. Her memory of the details once their song started to play was a little unclear, though whether she’d started it or not, she’d certainly been more than willing to participate. And dragging Rorie up the stairs to her bed had definitely been all her doing. That couldn't be denied.
But Rorie was right, she hadn't thought it through. It was just what inevitably happened when she and Rorie were together. The more time they spent in close proximity to each other, the greater the odds that caution, and clothing, would be thrown to the wind. Could she really do temporary any better than Rorie could? She didn't think she could.
There were too many consequences—exposure, scandal, divorce—and maybe she would be willing to risk those if it were just her, but it wasn't. Tyler would be hurt by this, too, with consequences that could be more far-reaching than she could anticipate. It had never even crossed her mind until now, and it should have. College admission, internships, his first job; all of that could become much more difficult if certain social connections were lost. It wasn't fair, but it was true. A few weeks of passion weren’t fair trade for her son's future. She didn’t regret her night with Rorie, but she was coming around to the fact that it probably shouldn't happen again.
Maybe.
She heard muffled voices coming from the hallway, and when she craned her neck to look out the lunchroom door she could see Bailey and Phinn in what appeared to be a heated conversation, though she couldn’t make out what they were saying. A moment later, Bailey turned in a huff and stomped into the lunchroom. Cecily snapped her head back around, giving her full attention to stirring a packet of sugar into her cup and hoping to avoid the embarrassment of being caught acting nosy.
“Cecily!” Bailey called out, sidling up beside her. “You’re just the person I was hoping to find.”
“Oh?” Cecily wasn’t sure if she liked the way Bailey had glommed on to her lately. She had a soft spot for the young woman, but the truth was that Bailey brought drama wherever she went, and Cecily had enough of her own to deal with.
“So, I took your advice the other night.”
“You did?” What advice? Cecily couldn’t remember giving her any advice.
Bailey nodded. “I think you were right, about second chances. For Phinn and me.”
Oh, that advice. Cecily cringed at the memory. “I see. And…?”
She wasn’t certain she wanted to know the outcome. She'd really been thinking more of herself when she'd said that. She’d been under the influence of temporary romantic insanity at the time, and any relationship advice dispensed in that state should probably have come with a full shaker of salt. Clearly, the past few days were proof that she was no expert.
Bailey shrugged. “He’s going to need more convincing. I mean, I hurt him pretty badly when I left, and that whole annulment fiasco with Janessa left him a little scarred. He just needs a little time, though, right?”
“Look, Bailey, I’m not sure that was such good advice after all.”
Bailey looked confused. “But, you said if I didn’t take a chance, I’d regret it, and…”
“Well, true. But all those problems you had when you were together are still there now, only worse because of all the years that have gone by.”
“Years?” Bailey’s brow wrinkled. “But it’s only been a few months. And we never had problems, really. Just bad advice from my agent.”
Cecily replayed her words in her head with chagrin. She'd been talking about herself again. Her own heartache was all she could think about. And speaking of bad advice, Bailey was almost certainly getting more of it now from her. She was completely unqualified to tell anyone anything when it came to matters of the heart.
“Well, I'm not an expert. Maybe your situation’s different.”
Bailey’s face brightened. “You think so? Oh, I don’t know. Now you’ve got me confused. You know what I need?”
“A cup o’ slightly burnt Joe?” Cecily suggested, gesturing to the pot.
“Bleck!” Bailey made a face. “Are you kidding? I have Bev bring me a soy latte from that place across the street every day. No, what I need is retail therapy.”
“Retail ther—oh, you mean, shopping?” Cecily couldn’t hide her disdain for the idea. She hated shopping.
“Oh, but you have to come with me!” Bailey pleaded. “You’re from here, so you know all the best places. Come on. I have hours before I have to be back here. What else am I going to do?”
Cecily sighed. “I don’t know. I thought you weren’t supposed to go outside the theater or your hotel without that new security guard that Susan hired. And he’s not on shift until this afternoon.”
“What, I just have to sit here until rehearsal starts up again tonight? That’s not for hours!” Bailey whimpered. “That’s so boring.”
“But it keeps you safe from the crazy people. You can read a book. Or maybe, just this once, it's probably okay if I give you a ride back to your hotel, but—”
“Excellent!” Bailey grinned. “Let's do that! Then we can just stop by Neiman Marcus on the way.”
“Stop by Neiman Marcus?” Cecily stared at her in disbelief. “Where do you think we are? This is suburban Connecticut, not Rodeo Drive. If you need toothpaste or something, we could maybe swing past a drug store, but Neiman Marcus? The closest one’s in Westchester County. New York,” she added, just to be certain Bailey grasped her point.
Bailey shrugged, looking coy. “But they’re used to celebrities. It’s the one place I can go to be discreet. Plus, as long as you come, it’ll be like having Rinaldo with me. I mean, he’s just a security guard, not a trained bodyguard. Like a babysitter. You’re a mom. It’s totally the same skill set.”
Cecily was about to dismiss the idea again when it occurred to her that the prospect wasn’t as repulsive to her as she’d first thought. At least it gave her a way to spend the afternoon, and she wouldn’t have to be alone. Not that she wasn’t used to being alone, given how much Chet had traveled over the years and how busy Tyler was with school. But somehow one night with Rorie had changed her. She no longer
felt comfortable with nothing but her own thoughts for too long.
She needed mindless distraction. A trip to The Westchester with a reality TV celebrity should certainly be mindless enough. And Bailey was right, it was an upscale shopping center that was unlikely to attract the types of people who’d made it their mission to harass Bailey outside the theater each day.
They drove there in Cecily’s car, making good time since it was before the start of rush-hour traffic. Arriving at the mall, they left the keys with the valet and entered on the first floor outside the store. Bailey stopped in front of the fountain near the entrance and Cecily rolled her eyes at her as she made duck-faced puckers for a series of selfies.
It really is like babysitting.
Once inside, the experience went exactly as Bailey had predicted. The salespeople were helpful and discreet, and the minute they realized who Bailey was, the women were brought to a private lounge and assigned a personal concierge to help with their shopping. Sitting in overstuffed chairs, sipping spicy herbal tea while their concierge organized racks of garments for Bailey to view, Cecily smiled and sighed. “Okay, now I see why you called this retail therapy. It’s like being at a spa! I’ve always hated to shop, but then again, I never get the celebrity treatment by myself.”
Bailey laughed. “It has its perks. I mean, I can’t walk down the street without some rabid Phinn fan throwing a shoe at me, but other than that…”
“Oh, Bailey.” Cecily’s tone was sympathetic.“I’m such a private person, I can’t imagine dealing with the attention you do, good or bad, let alone you and Phinn ever trying to have a relationship with all that going on.”
She had a flash of memory as she spoke, of the quiet days she and Rorie had spent together in her dormitory in college. It had been like their own little hideout, just the two of them. By necessity she’d insisted they be discreet. If her parents had found out about their relationship, they would’ve frozen her trust fund in a heartbeat. Plus, she’d enjoyed their time alone too much to share it with anyone else. But Rorie had never understood.
It wasn't like she'd wanted to hide their relationship forever, but Rorie never believed her. Rorie accused her of being frightened or ashamed of being with her, when Cecily was really just being pragmatic. Just like she was now. And Rorie still didn't believe her. Not that it matters. It’s most likely over anyway. She felt hollow at the thought, and no amount of ‘retail therapy’ could sooth the emptiness.
Bailey sighed, echoing Cecily’s somber mood. “I think I’m done for today. I found a few things, but I’m getting bored. You want to head back?”
Cecily nodded. A few minutes later, Bailey’s bags were packed with her purchases and the two women made their way back to the exit on the first floor. As they walked out the door toward the valet, a barrage of what seemed like lightning flashes blinded them and Cecily heard someone call out Bailey’s name. Whoever it was sounded less than happy to see her. In a fraction of a second, a crowd of people rushed in their direction, blocking the path to the door.
“Cecily, come on!”
Still blinking away the spots from her eyes, Cecily felt Bailey take her by the arm and pull her at a sprint back to the store. As they raced inside, a saleswoman, drawn by the commotion, blocked the crowd momentarily. They made it back to the private concierge’s lounge before the crowd could catch up, breathless from their narrow escape.
“My God!” Cecily exclaimed. “What was that?” She looked Bailey over with a spreading sense of shock, spotting a trickle of blood at her friend’s right temple. “Bailey, you’re bleeding!”
Bailey pressed her hand to the side of her head. “I told you, sometimes they throw things.”
“You mean, that’s the type of thing that’s been happening every time you go out?” Cecily let out a ragged breath. “I had no idea it was that bad! If I had, I never would have let you leave the Oakwood without Rinaldo!”
Bailey cast her eyes downward sheepishly. The concierge, who had gone out to check on the situation with the crowd, came back into the room and informed Cecily that the crowd had dispersed but that security had spotted some paparazzi photographers near the valet parking area. If they could get the car pulled around to the loading dock in the back of the building, it would be their best shot at getting out without another incident. But their experience had already left Cecily so rattled that she wasn’t convinced she could pull that off, let alone drive the twenty miles back home.
Cecily thought for a moment, then grabbed her cell phone. “I don’t think we should do anything without getting some backup,” she announced. “I’m calling Susan to see what she thinks.” She placed the call and filled Susan in on the situation, then hung up the phone. “Right. Susan says to hold tight and wait for Rinaldo to come get us, and I agree. Those people were nuts. I’m so shaky I’m afraid to drive right now, and one of them might be waiting to follow us back.” She fixed Bailey with her most mom-like stare. “And you’re telling me that this happens every day and you won’t talk to Phinn about it to see if he can get them to stop?”
Bailey looked at her, dejected. “I didn’t want to talk to him because it’s humiliating.”
“No, it’s dangerous. You need to let him know the first chance you get. If he makes a public statement to his fans, it would have to help. God, there’re so many of them. How did they even know you were here?”
“I don’t know! I think someone at the theater is trying to sabotage me. They probably overheard our plans and tipped off the paparazzi. You’re the only friend I have at the Oakwood. Everyone else hates me.”
Cecily studied Bailey doubtfully. “You’re certain there’s no other way people could have known?” As frightening as this experience had been, Cecily was inclined to question Bailey's paranoid interpretation of it. Underneath her diva-like exterior, Bailey had turned out to be a pretty sweet kid, but she was still a drama queen.
Bailey shook her head vehemently. “No! No way. I never told anyone where I was. I mean, I posted a selfie to show my followers I was going shopping, but I didn’t say where. I mean, I do have a few fans of my own. I have to keep them happy.”
“A selfie?” Cecily groaned. “Let me see it.”
Bailey handed Cecily her phone. It took only a fraction of a second for Cecily to know exactly how the paparazzi had tracked them down. “Bailey, you posted a picture of yourself in front of the fountain.”
Bailey nodded. “Yeah, but you can’t see the store name or anything.”
“Yeah, but you can see the fountain. That fountain’s been around forever. It’s iconic. Anyone in a hundred miles would easily know right where you were in this photo.”
Bailey’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know that. Now I feel so stupid.”
“You just have to be more careful,” Cecily reassured her. “Talk to Phinn, see if you can get this madness to stop. And then, try not to treat all the cast and crew like you suspect them of slipping poison into your food, and I think you’ll have an easier time making friends.”
And start acting like a grown-up and you won’t make such a mess of things!
But then she thought of the huge mess she’d made of her own life and held her tongue. Who was she to lecture? She should take her own advice.
21
Rorie sat slumped in a chair in Susan’s office. She’d just wrapped up a status report, and the truth was, things could be going better. With three weeks between now and opening night, major portions of the set remained unfinished and Rorie was starting to worry they wouldn’t finish in time. Of course, this was par for the course with the theater. It always looked like disaster was looming, to the very last second, and then somehow a miracle would happen and even though things were being held together with duct tape and shoestrings on stage, when the curtain went up all the audience would see was perfection.
That was the magic of theater, and the reason Rorie came back to it now and again even though the pay for a month barely matched what she could make in Hollywood
in a week. Usually, it energized her. Only this time she felt spent, and was pretty certain the magic would elude her and the whole thing would be a disaster. Might as well have the professional life match the personal life.
“Come on,” Susan said, her face betraying her concern, “I’ve seen you pull off more in a lot less time. You can do this, right? If you can’t, you better tell me now.”
Rorie sat up straighter, forcing herself to stop wallowing in her own misery She had a job to do. “Yes, I can. Don’t worry about it, Susan. Your show will be fine.”
Susan nodded. “Okay, I won’t lie, the show is my top priority. But I’m worried about you, too. I don’t want you to burn out. The good news is, I have a couple more volunteers starting on Monday.”
“Oh, yeah? Have any of them ever used tools before?”
Susan shrugged. “I make no guarantees. But they seemed eager enough to help.” Susan consulted a sheet of paper on her desk. “Amanda Conrad and Polly Schroeder are their names.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Rorie groaned. “Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse. Polly’s kid goes to the same school as Cecily’s, and those two do not get along. It’s like some sort of high school mean girl rivalry between them.”
“Oh, yeah?” Susan said, arching her eyebrow. “You seem to know a lot about it. You and Cecily back together?”
Rorie rolled her eyes. “Susan, please. You’ve got some imagination.”
“Oh, really? So I guess I was just imagining that you slept at her house on Sunday night?”
“What?” Rorie leaned forward in her chair with alarm. “How did you know that?”
Susan grinned. “Uh huh. I thought so. Even though I’ve moved from Manhattan, I like to think I still have a little bit of fashionista in me. You didn’t think I noticed what you came in here wearing on Monday morning? That blouse was a little, uh, matronly for your usual tastes.” Susan shrugged. “Of course, I might’ve said the same about Mrs. Parker herself, but clearly I would’ve been wrong about that.”
A Road Through Mountains (Love's Encore Book 1) Page 15
