“That was horrifying.” Vivienne’s lip wavered a little as she slipped into her seat.
The trembling I noticed in her hands made me frown.
“Does that happen all the time?” she asked.
“Pretty much. You actually get used to it.” I opened my menu and leaned back casually, hoping my attitude of disinterest would spread to her. “They treat you as well as you treat them. If you get all pissed off and avoid them, they try harder. If you give them what they want, they usually click away and then leave you alone for the next victim.”
“Ugh!” She shivered in disgust.
Blasé wasn’t cutting it. I leaned forward and closer to her.
“You’re a famous author now. Haven’t you done any publicity?”
“Puh-leease!” She gave me a skeptical look. “I wrote a book. I’m not a rock star. I think there were two photographers when I had my tiny press conference at the local Barnes and Noble, and one was from the Shores Sentinel for Chrissake!” By now she was laughing a little, and I felt less worried by her reaction to the ruckus outside. “Before all this foundation crap, all the TV I did was pre-taped.”
The waiter arrived with water glasses and a wine menu, but Vivienne snatched it from him and set it aside before I could touch it.
“Would the lady care for a drink?” he asked in a smooth, practiced tone.
“No, thank you. And neither would the gentleman.” Her voice was genteel and her hands were folded primly in her lap.
“Of course.” He backed away from the table without any expression on his face.
I raised my eyebrows at her. I actually didn’t want a drink, but she had taken away my opportunity to decline. It was probably the first strong act I’d seen from Vivienne since meeting her. Well, outside the bedroom, anyway.
“I’m sorry.” She reached for my arm and her fingers were cool on my skin. “I can tell you’re unhappy with how I handled that. But I don’t seem to have much control of myself around you, and I don’t want any more alcohol to get in the way right now.”
“Fair enough.” I tilted my head to the side. “We are in public, though. It’s not like I can throw you down on the table.” I waggled my eyebrows at her and grinned.
“This is Hollywood, Will. I wouldn’t be surprised by anything at this point.”
I burst out laughing because she was half right. Stranger things had happened with the celebrity crowd, and she caught on fast to the antics.
“Okay. Let’s have a nice, civilized dinner and then I will take you back to your hotel. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” She put out her hand, expecting me to shake it, and instead I lifted it to my lips and kissed it. She shivered and the color in her cheeks I was getting used to appeared on cue. What the hell was I doing?
Chapter 19
I let the damn waiter talk me into a glass of wine to go with the fancy dinner I ordered. You must have the red with it, ma’am, he said. It brings out the taste of the meat, he said. Blah, blah, blah. That opened the door for Will to ask for the bottle. I was determined, though, to hold onto some modicum of control and not deteriorate into the wanton woman I was unwittingly trying to be. Yes, I’d come to grips with what had happened between Will and me over the course of the last twenty-four hours. But that didn’t mean I was going to go completely down the rabbit hole. Our brief tête-à-tête was just that, brief but over. At least as far as the sex went. I would be going home to Michigan soon.
At first, I didn’t know if Will was really as easygoing as he seemed, or if he was just a better actor than he claimed. But the longer we sat together, the more convinced I became that he really was a pretty good guy. I couldn’t remember ever feeling as comfortable with another person, other than Pepper or my mom.
“Thank you for coming out with me,” I said, as I placed my knife and fork across my plate, feeling full and satisfied by both the meal and the company. “You are excellent company.”
Will dabbed his mouth with his napkin and then tossed it on the table beside his plate. “Thank you for inviting me. I don’t get to go out to quiet dinners very often.” His hands fidgeted with the end of the tablecloth for a moment or two, and then he placed them flat on the tabletop. He must have recognized my puzzled look.
“Sorry, I used to smoke. It’s been about five years, but I still crave one after I finish eating.”
I nodded in sympathy.
“I feel your pain. I quit seventeen years ago.”
“Yeah? Still miss it?”
Shaking my head no, I said, “Every single day.” Sighing dramatically, I rolled my eyes. “I picked it up in college to help me stay awake when I would study. Bruce picked it up in the military and the two of us were fiends.”
“I’m surprised you quit.”
I shrugged.
“After Bruce died, I was so depressed I didn’t eat and I fell out of the habit. When I finally started feeling better, I figured it was probably a good thing not to pick it up again.”
Will reached across the table to put his hand over one of mine.
“That must have been really hard. You were so young.”
The heat from his palm against the back of my hand felt nice and the warmth spread up my arm.
“It was.” I could have said more. I could have told him about the sleepless nights and the crying jags. I could have said that the depression was something I still struggled with. I could have explained that depression led to fear and fear kept me from living a normal life like everyone else. But I didn’t want to put a pall on an otherwise lovely evening so far.
Instead I asked him to make me laugh.
“Tell me something funny, Will. What’s the silliest thing that’s happened since you became a celebrity?”
The look of half-humor, half-grimace that crossed his face made me chuckle right away.
“Hell, I haven’t said anything and you’re cracking up.” He leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. “I wouldn’t know where to start. A lot of crazy shit has happened in the last ten years. I’ve had girls try to break into my house. There have been a few paternity suits.”
I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise.
“Oh really? Just how many?”
Will grinned.
“Three. All false.” He crossed his heart with his index finger. “One time, Tim posted my number on Facebook as a joke. I think I got about a thousand calls in the first five minutes, not to mention tens of thousands of text messages.”
That made me laugh out loud.
“Oh, that must have been horrible!”
“I couldn’t get to the store fast enough to get a new number,” Will admitted. “Most of the stuff that’s happened has been harmless enough or amusing. Even the lawsuits were kind of funny, because the kids didn’t even look anything like me. But there’s been a lot of bad stuff, too. You just gotta deal with it. If you’re going to put yourself out there to the world, it comes at a price.”
While my experience was nowhere near the level of his, I commiserated nonetheless.
“I’m realizing that. Sure, I got a lot of attention when my book first came out, but after a while, things calmed down and life went back to normal, such as it was. But all this foundation business has the attention at a hundred times worse. I hate the idea that the media will feast on the tragedies, but only nibble on the successes.”
“You’re right.” Will shrugged his shoulders, but the strain on his face was clear. “I get more publicity for hookups and breakups and stupid shit than I do for the music I make. But I get to do what I want, when I want, and if I choose to do something stupid and it gets in the papers, I take the lumps for it. If I really wanted it all to go away, it would.”
I was about to ask about the paternity foolishness when the waiter interrupted to ask if we wanted dessert. Will went ahead and ordered tiramisu and two forks. I wasn’t about to turn that down. By the time the dessert arrived, one glass of wine turned into two and a half. I was laughing coyly a
nd even flirting with him a little. Inwardly convinced I was a burgeoning alcoholic, I no longer recognized myself. To the casual observer, it must have looked like we were on a date. Wine or no wine, I was still coherent enough to know it wasn’t. I liked Will and I was enjoying his company, but we were different people with wholly different existences. I knew it was wrong to flirt, even just a little, but it was so much fun. Something I hadn’t done in so very long.
When the tiramisu was finished and our forks lay crossed on the plate, the waiter discreetly left the check on the table and I reached for it to pay, feeling obligated because I had invited him out. When Will snagged it before I could, I grabbed his hand. He laced his fingers in mine and I felt a vibration go up my arm.
I cleared my throat and squeezed his hand.
“Oh, no. My treat. Hand it over.”
“Nope.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket.
“Will,” I said in a warning tone. “Is it William?”
“Yeah.”
“William what?”
“William Rowan.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Momentarily distracted by the way his name rolled off my tongue, I snapped myself back to the present. Sitting up straight, I glared at him without too much ferocity. “William Rowan Foster, you hand over that check. I invited you.”
Will shook his head and covered our intertwined hands with his free one.
“You are something else, Vivienne.”
“Oh, I’m something else, all right. Now cough it up.”
“Only if you let me get the tip.”
“Agreed.”
He handed me the bill, and I was surprised at the reasonable total, given the fancy air of the restaurant. I slapped my American Express down with it onto the table, telling Will to leave twenty percent or so. The waiter, who lurked nearby, swooped in and carried it away. When he returned, I scribbled my name on the scrap of paper and stuffed my copy into my purse along with the credit card. I scooted my chair back to stand up, as Will tossed a hundred dollar bill on the table. My mouth dropped open and I gaped at him, blown away by his generosity.
“Close your mouth, please. We are not a codfish,” he whispered, leaning in close to my ear. I giggled. “Most of these guys are trying to make it in show business. They need all the help they can get. I’m just a schmuck who happened to get there.”
“Paying it forward?” I murmured, enjoying the feel of his warm breath on my neck.
“In a way.”
Will linked his arm in mine and he walked me out of the restaurant. Standing on the curb, we waited for the valet to bring his car around. The paparazzi had thinned considerably, and only two or three photographers remained. They snapped a few pictures of us, but it was nothing like when we arrived, and the wine in my blood kept me relaxed. I was not impervious enough to mug for their shots, and turned my face away from them and toward Will. Will was gracious, though, and smiled for the pictures, giving a wave to the photographers. My forehead rested almost into his armpit and I was suddenly struck by how tall he was in spite of the four-inch heels I wore. I looked up at him and my neck tilted quite far back.
“Thank you for dinner.” His chin turned down.
“You’re welcome.” I could feel my neck muscles straining. “You’re awfully tall.”
He snickered.
“You’re just now noticing?”
“Well, we’ve spent most of our time together sitting down—”
“Or lying down.” There went the eyebrows again.
“Yes, there is that.” I sneered. “I guess I didn’t realize how tall you were.” Bruce was six-foot-four and I always loved how he towered over me, making me feel petite. “How tall are you?”
“Six-four.”
Oh boy.
“Are you sure you’re all right to drive?” I asked.
“Of course.” He mimicked my earlier sneer. “You’re the one who drank all the wine.”
Dammit. “And whose fault is that? You ordered the bottle.”
He looked away and pretended to scan the street, watching for the car.
“You didn’t have to drink it.”
Dammit! He was right. I threw my hands up in the air and told him so.
“I don’t know what is wrong with me.”
The car arrived then, and Will opened my door for me. When I was settled, he took my chin in his hand and looked me in the eye.
“Vivienne, there is nothing wrong with you.”
Sappy fool that I am, I could feel my eyes start to tear up. I yanked my chin away as smoothly as I could and forced a laugh.
“Thank you, Will.” It meant nothing, but it was the nicest thing he could have said to me right then. He closed my door, then jogged around to climb into the driver’s seat, expertly slipping a tip into the valet’s hand.
As he pulled out into traffic, I decided to check my phone. Another five voicemails from Jake, two more texts from Pepper and a missed call from Mom. I sighed.
“Do you mind if I make a quick call?” I asked.
“Go for it.” Will waved his right hand at me. “Going to take your ass chewing now?”
“I hope not,” I murmured as I tapped the speed dial icon for my mom. “I need to call my Mom.”
Will snorted and gave me an amused look.
“Hey now. I haven’t spoken with her since I got to LA and I don’t want her to worry, that’s all.” It was a little after ten, but I knew she would still be awake. She answered by the third ring. “Hey, Mom!”
“Vivienne! I thought you’d died or something,” Mom said with a hint of sarcasm.
“No, Mom, I haven’t died. I’ve just been, uh, really busy.” My cheeks flamed as Will watched me and grinned lasciviously.
“I know,” Mom admitted, but she sounded relieved nonetheless. “I was wondering if you’d heard anything about the thief.”
“No, unfortunately not. But they’re working on it. I had a meeting with a movie studio today,” I lied, “but it was pretty boring. Nothing you’d want to hear about. And yesterday I hung out with Pepper all day.”
“Oh, how is she? Give her my love!”
“She’s awesome. And I already did. How are things with you? You all right?”
“Oh, things are fine. Same old, same old.”
I nattered on with her for another few minutes before I was finally able to segue into a goodbye pattern of conversation.
“I’m not sure what’s on my agenda for the next couple of days, Mom, so if I don’t check in, don’t freak out, okay? Email me, if you want, and I can always sneak my phone out during a meeting to write back.”
“All right, dear. You sound awfully tired. Try to get some rest.”
You’ll never know, I thought.
“I will, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Bye.”
“Goodbye, dear.”
I tapped the “end” button and my mom was gone.
“Sorry about that.” I tried not to look embarrassed to be almost forty and still checking in with my mom.
“No worries. I think it’s cool that you check up on your mom.”
I smiled with relief. Will got it. I wasn’t checking in, I was checking up. Mom was seventy-eight and I was the only relative she had. I would always be her daughter, but as we got older, we were becoming more and more like friends. I liked it that way.
“Thanks. She’s pretty cool, and I owe the good life I’ve had to her. Most people I know don’t get along with their folks as well as I get along with mine.”
“True enough.” Will nodded. “Sounds like how I get along with my parents. My brothers and sisters are closer to them, though. They still live in same town and all, with regular lives and jobs and families of their own. I’m the black sheep who ran away.”
I leaned back against the seat and smiled. Will was turning out to be a very sweet and thoughtful soul, much more than his public image gave him credit for. He seemed normal and sane in a world thriving on the abn
ormal and insane. When I’d accepted the glass of wine at dinner, I thought I knew exactly what I was doing. Will’s simple charm and easy manner at dinner had convinced me that I wanted to spend one more night with him. The rest of my time in California was going to be taken up with meetings and lawyers and Jake. I deserved one more night of fun, didn’t I?
At the same time, I was getting confused. I thought maybe Will was starting to care a little bit too much of what I thought. I could see the struggle on his face to always find the right thing to say whenever I expressed a doubt or some uncertainty. Was I was reading more into things than I had a right to? I didn’t know. I was having second thoughts, because I didn’t want to be unfair and lead Will on. If he was becoming more attached, I didn’t want him to get hurt. I decided I would just let him drive me back to the hotel and say a heartfelt goodbye there.
The rest of the ride back to the hotel was peaceful and quiet.
Chapter 20
The drive back to the hotel was silent and awkward. After she talked to her mother and responded to a couple of texts, Vivienne sat in the passenger seat staring out the window, not talking or looking at me. I felt like an idiot because whatever I said to her didn’t seem to help. Leaving the restaurant, I only wanted to make sure she knew she was a normal person and instead I almost made her cry.
Dinner had been great up until the end. We laughed and talked and I found out a lot more about her. Our creative sides were a lot alike, and she was getting a taste of celebrity, so I felt like I gave her some good advice about it. Only, she started to get pretty flirty just before the bill came. Normally I would have liked that. And given the time we’d spent together in bed, I thought it gave me the green light to keep going.
But then she’d gotten upset when I was closing her door and now I didn’t know what the hell to think. I didn’t want her to feel like I was using her or anything. I only wanted to sleep with her again because I liked her so damn much, not just because I could. I would never pressure her about it. It was funny how she could be really honest about her past and things that had happened to her, but she wasn’t real up front or clear about what was going on in her head in the present. Could she be falling in love with me? Shit, that’s all I needed.
The Widow and the Rock Star Page 11
