by Kailin Gow
When we finished the performance that night I was drenched in sweat, adrenaline running high. The aftermath felt, like it always did, like a dream, as we were hurried from the stage into another black-leather-paneled VIP area, champagne piled high for us to drink, gorgeous groupies waiting backstage for us. I was tempted to stay, to taste some of the most expensive-looking cocktails I'd ever seen, which were waiting for us on a table that seemed to be made entirely out of ice, but Danny came up behind me and put his arms around my waist, nuzzling my ear, suggesting he had other plans. “All that playing,” he said, “it makes me realize just how talented you are. And talent, love, is very – very sexy. What do you say we go back to mine?”
I didn't even think about hesitating. Within moments I was in Danny's car, speeding through London to get to his Camden apartment, already aroused by the mere thought of Danny's fingers, Danny's body. No sooner had we gotten into the elevators of the building than we were kissing passionately, hungrily, our bodies fused together by desire. But when we arrived in the penthouse, Danny frowned, turning towards the bedroom.
“I didn't leave that light on...” he muttered, looking worried. “Do you mind waiting here for a second, Neve?”
I nodded as Danny tiptoed into the bedroom. I tensed up. Who could it be? A burglar – a crazed fan...I shuddered as I remembered John Flint...
But instead I heard a female voice. Drunk, unbalanced, but still seductive even as she slurred her words. I tiptoed closer to the door, hearing the sound of loud, powerful female sobs. When I got close enough to make out the source of the tears, my mouth fell open. It was Veronica Taylor.
“Please...” she was saying. “I've wanted this for so long.” I peered through the crack in the door in shock. Roni was completely naked except for a peach satin negligee that left little of her slender frame to the imagination. “Danny, please.” She leaned in and kissed him quickly – all over his cheeks, his neck, his shoulders, her hands making for his jeans zipper at the groin until his hand stopped her.
Rage and pain washed over me, blinding me with shock and fury. So – Roni still believed she had a claim on Danny? But did he...
“Roni...” Danny's voice was stiff, full of warning. “Please – you're drunk, you're tired, you need to go home.”
“I'm not!” she protested. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “I made the worst mistake of my life, Danny. I'm trapped. You have to help me. I loved you – the whole time. Only ever you. I loved you so much that when you left I was angry, jealous. I wanted to get back at you for going away. But I regret...I've made such a mistake.”
“Roni, please...” Danny was saying, trying to push her away. But was that a look of desire – however involuntary – that I saw glint across his eye?
“Just once, I want to feel you inside me again,” Roni was pleading. “It was good for you, wasn't it, Danny? How it used to be?”
I could see that Danny was struggling to push her away. As she wrapped her arms around him, pushing him on the bed and straddling him with her toned, tan legs, I wondered what he would have done if I weren't here. Would he have succumbed to her fragile beauty – her passion?
“Roni, for goodness' sake, you're my stepmom now? Isn't that enough of a no? You shouldn’t be here.”
“I don't care!” she cried. “Danny, it's you I love – not your father.”
“Well, you married him!” Danny grew angry – so angry that I could not help wondering whether his righteousness belied deeper feelings. “You made your own bed, Roni, now lie in it. I've moved on – and you need to, too.”
“I can't stop thinking about you, Danny,” she moaned. “I can't stop loving you. Nobody else can make love to me the way you can...”
I closed my eyes, feeling the tears seep in. I couldn't stand this pain, this jealousy, a moment longer. At that moment I didn't care that Danny was pushing Roni away, that he didn't want her. All I knew was that the secrets of his past were welling up, that I couldn't deal with more ghosts, more problems between us. Measuring up to Peyton was one thing – but there were only so many women I could compete with in the hopes that one day Danny would love me, only me! Tears streaming down my face, I ran from the apartment and made my way to the lobby, hailing a cab back to my hotel.
Chapter 11
When I arrived back at our hotel, my eyes still wet with tears, all I wanted was to hide – to run upstairs to my room and pull the covers over my head. But as I entered the hotel lobby, I stopped short. Luc was sitting alone, sipping a drink, his expression melancholy. I approached him, surprised. I couldn't believe Luc was alone tonight – not if the number of groupies I'd seen hanging off him was anything to go by.
“Hey Neve,” Luc's whole face lit up when he saw me. “Come on over!”
“What, no groupies tonight, Luc?” I meant to sound light, merry. But clearly my pain spilled over into my words, and my voice became bitter, even angry.
But Luc remained cool. All he said was “I was never into groupies, Neve. You know that.” He lowered his eyes. Then he looked back up into my own, taking in my splotchy, tear-stained face. “Oh, Neve – what's happened?”
“Nothing...” I sniffed, but it was clear that I was lying. Nobody was a good enough actress to explain away the mascara running in rivulets down my cheeks.
“I thought you and Danny went off after the show. Did something happen?” Luc looked worried. “Is everything OK? If he hurt you, I swear, Neve, I'll...” his voice trailed off.
“No, it's fine,” I insisted, knowing that my protestations would be in vain. Luc and I had been friends forever, and he knew me far too well to let me get away with these lies.
“It's not fine, Neve,” he said gently. “You've clearly been crying. Come here,” he pulled me in for a tight, warm hug. A hug that spelled warmth, friendship – that made me feel so safe, so secure, so taken care of after the stress of the last few days. I burst into tears. “Whatever it is, Neve, you can tell me. I promise. You know that, don't you?”
“Yes,” I sobbed.
“What happened?” Luc pulled back, his fingers gently brushing a tear from my eyes. “Oh Neve, Neve, Neve, I hate to see you hurt like this. Let's get out of here, go someplace quiet so we can talk, okay?”
I nodded and he took my hand and led me to the elevator. No sooner had we entered the elevator than I saw Danny burst into the lobby of the hotel building, his eyes wild, his expression full of pain.
“Neve!” he called out, rushing towards me. He was breathless – clearly he'd rushed over here. “Let me explain...” His eyes fell upon Luc's hand on mine and they widened with worry. But I was too angry, too frustrated to worry about his feelings just then.
“I don't want to talk right now,” I said.
“Neve, believe me, I can explain everything.”
“Danny, I'm tired,” I said, hearing my voice grow cold and weary. “I just want to go to bed. I'll call you later, okay?”
Luc took a warning step forward as the elevator doors closed on Danny's stricken, anguished face. I couldn't think about that right now. All I could think about was my own pain as I collapsed into Luc's arms, sobbing.
When we got to my room, Luc sat me down on the sofa, his strong arms around me. It felt good to be sitting with Luc like this. He was always the one I could rely on, the one who had comforted me whenever I needed a friend. Sitting with Luc like this – it reminded me of when we were kids, when some schoolyard bullying or mean girl's taunt sent me into floods of tears.
I couldn't help but laugh. “Remember that time you found me at the gym? After Stacey Stanford made fun of my military jacket and told me that none of the girls in my grade would be friends with me?”
Luc laughed, too. “Yeah,” he said. “You were sitting in the corner of the gym, wearing this huge satin jacket with military lapels – and those horrid girls had torn them off you...”
I imitated Stacey Stanford's high-pitched voice. “Someone has to teach you what's acceptable and what's not, Neve
r Knight.” I sighed. “I really loved that jacket, you know? Dad had it made for me to match one of his. I was so proud of that jacket – I wore it everywhere...”
“But we fixed it, remember? You and I?”
“And your mom,” I added. Mrs. Alamo had whipped out her needle and thread and put my jacket together in a jiffy. But now, I felt, my heart sinking, my problems would be a lot harder to solve. I sighed.
“Mom loves you like a daughter, Neve,” said Luc. “And if she saw you crying, you know what she'd do?”
“Force feed me some pasta until I felt better?”
“She'd say “una bella ragazza like you can't be sad. Show me the stronzo who made you cry and I'll show him how la mamma handles things!”
Sitting with Luc like this felt so comfortable, so natural. I almost instinctively began to pour out my heart to him. “It's awful,” I started. “Danny's stepmom...” I stopped short, realizing how selfish I was being. I knew how Luc felt about me, and I knew how much talking about Danny would hurt him. “Never mind,” I said. “I don't really want to talk about it.”
“Danny's stepmom?” My heart sank as a brief flash of jealousy appeared on his face. “So you met his family?”
“They live in London now,” I explained, “so...”
“So Danny's stepmom? What can be so bad about her? Doesn't want to share her boy?” He chuckled. But one sight of my stricken face made him frown. “No, really – is it that?”
I nodded.
“But not...in a gross way?”
I nodded again.
“Like...that way?”
“She's twenty-one,” I said. “And a supermodel.”
“And she...”
I found myself telling Luc everything, as he egged me on to hear more, reacting with just as much shock and disgust as I felt.
“I can't believe I'm saying this,” Luc said, “Because after all, I do have a vested interest in the matter – but it sounds like this one genuinely isn't Danny's fault. He's not interested in this woman – and honestly, who would be? She sounds like a serious creep. And it sounds like he's been faithful to you...even if I do wish you and he weren't together, I have to admit it. If it's meant to be, this woman isn't going to get in your way.”
I was overcome by relief and gratitude at Luc's words. I knew how hard it must be for him to act like this with me, like a true friend. I threw my arms around him. “Luc, you always seem to know what to say,” I said.
Luc stiffened, his voice growing husky. “If only I did,” he said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. “If so, I would have said a few things sooner...”
As I looked up at him, I suddenly became conscious of how close he was to me, of how near our bodies were to one another, entwined in a hug on his sofa. For a moment I wanted nothing more than to stay like this, wrapped in his arms, feeling like this. But I knew for both our sakes, I needed to keep my distance. I pulled away. “I should go to bed,” I said.
“No, I should go...” said Luc. “You're clearly...having a bad day, and I should leave you alone to deal with this. But if you ever need a friend, you know, I'm right down the hall.” He smiled softly as he went out.
Yet after he closed the door behind him, I didn't feel remotely relieved. I knew Luc's words about Danny were true, but I also knew they didn't tell the whole story. It seemed that every time Danny and I got closer, every time it seemed as if our relationship might have a hint of a chance, some new complication separated us. First Peyton – whose photographs were plastered all over his walls even now – then his father – and now Roni. Why did everything always have to be so messy? I thought of Luc – stalwart, steadfast Luc, who had offered me a pure and simple love, and whom I had rejected, because next to Danny Blue's mesmerizing eyes, everything else fell short. But were those eyes, was that beauty, was that incredible smile just going to get me hurt in the end?
A knock sounded at the door. My heart leaped. Was it Danny – come to explain? But as I opened the door, my jaw dropped in utter shock. Standing before me, dressed in an exquisite camel-colored trenchcoat that showed off her svelte figure, was Veronica Taylor herself. Before even waiting for an invitation she sauntered past me into the room.
“What are you doing here?” I said, feeling my face flush hot.
“I wanted to talk to you,” announced Roni, sitting down on the sofa imperiously, as if she owned the place. Which, I guess, she kind of does. “To establish some limits. Clearly, you don't understand that Danny and I are very close.”
She got my hackles up, but I refused to let her see me sweat. I smiled as sweetly as I could muster and said, “Well, I can only imagine. Losing a mother is so hard – I'm so glad he's able to see you as another maternal figure.”
She grimaced. “You know that's not what I'm talking about. Danny's not just my stepson – that, like everything else in my marriage, is just a formality. Danny and I knew each other long before I married Clarence. We were very close, and I enjoyed it.”
“Until you married his father,” I added, my smile still plastered on my face.
“Clarence is a – charming man,” she replied smoothly. “I was young. Naïve. And he exposed me to a world I could never have dreamed of...”
“...filled with money you could have never earned yourself.”
Veronica shot me a faux-injured look. “It's not about his money, you silly girl. There's nothing wrong with being attracted to a man who is a good provider. Who knows what he wants and how to get it.”
“A sugar daddy?” I asked, my voice scathing with disdain.
“Please, dear,” said Roni. “You're so naïve, looking at things so simplistically. I care greatly for Clarence. But I love Danny. All of Clarence's worldly charm – with certain skills one simply cannot get from an older man. I've never experienced such power, such passion...”
Her words made me sick to my stomach. Hearing such filth come out of Veronica's mouth made me want to run to the bathroom and vomit all over one of the meticulous Blue Enterprises Jacuzzis.
“So, what do you want me to do about it?” I asked – pretending to be far braver than I felt.
Roni didn’t hesitate. “To ensure that neither you – nor anybody else, for that matter – holds Danny back from his bright future. He has great things ahead of him. If he's not distracted. I have plans for Danny.”
“And your plans are the same as your husband's?”
“Not exactly. I want Danny to take over Blue Enterprises, just as his father does. Only, I want to do it sooner...and I want him.”
Her eyes sparkled maliciously, and in an instant I understood her plan. Get Danny the President position – along with the position's billions of pounds' worth of perks. Make him financially secure before seducing him and leaving Clarence, getting her hot boy toy and her husband's money in one fell swoop.
“You're married. You're married to his father, you sick...”
I never got to finish my sentence. Roni slapped me clear across the face, and my cheek smarted from the blow. “Whatever you think you know or understand, believe me, you don't.” Her doll-like face had vanished – this Veronica was cold, steely, and filled with malice. “I'm not interested in having some child telling me what I can and cannot do.” She stepped close to me, getting into my face. “I'm sure you think you're somebody. But believe me – you're just like every other wannabe celebutante, the daughter of a washed-up rock star and a sagging swimsuit model. You have no idea who you're dealing with. And if you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from Danny. If I see you together again, believe me – there will be consequences. Ta!”
As she glided serenely out the door, I had to sit down to avoid fainting from sheer shock. What kind of crazy woman would believe that she could actually convince me to stop seeing Danny? The same woman who would turn up in a negligee at her stepson's apartment and beg him to take her back. I swallowed, hard. Roni wasn't just some calculating gold-digger – she was genuinely, earnestly in love with Danny. Obsessed even.
And that made her not just threatening, but genuinely dangerous.
I shuddered. Life with Danny was getting more complicated by the second.
Chapter 12
For at least ten minutes after Roni left the room, I stood still – unable to move. Shock had flooded through me. I was exhausted – worn out. What had just happened? My face still burned, my cheek stinging from where Veronica's hand had collided with my face. The sound of the slap still rang in my ears. I vaguely heard my cell phone ring, but it seemed like the sound was coming to me underwater – the ringtone a million miles away. I couldn't focus on the ringing of the phone; I couldn't focus on the frequent beeps on the intercom, telling me someone was trying to reach me. I couldn't focus on anything at all except for the enormity of what had just happened. I'd known that Danny's life was a strange one, that life as Clarence Blue's son would make anyone a little eccentric. But now it seemed that Danny's secrets were so much greater than anything I had ever known. I'd always thought my own life must seem bizarre to outsiders – our money, our fame, the way, at the height of my dad's fame, we snuck out through the back door with balaclavas over our faces to avoid the paparazzi whenever we went shopping – but at its core our family life had always been a traditional one. My dad had been kind, if sometimes stern; my mother had always been loving. She'd of course maintained her natural flirtatious personality even after marriage – I knew that she was flattered by the attention that, for example, Kyle paid her, and that she knew full well the extent of my friends' childhood crushes on her – but the idea of her ever cheating on my father, let alone with one of my friends, was utterly alien to me.
But this woman seemed to be bound by no laws – either of society or of morality. In her eyes I had seen a conviction in her love, in her future with Danny, that bordered on the utterly unhinged. I put my fingers to the place that Veronica had slapped, wincing as I felt the bruised flesh, slightly swollen. Did people even slap one another, anymore? I'd only ever seen such a catty action in the old Hollywood films my dad and I used to watch on AMC when neither of us could sleep – black and white films with women with bleached-blonde hair and dark lipstick who traded barbed witticisms and fell victim to melodrama. But it seemed that Roni, with her natural air for the overly dramatic, believed that people actually did those things in real life. I grimaced, recalling some tabloid gossip from a few months ago about how Roni Taylor had planned to make a transition from modeling to film. Guess she's practicing for the part, I thought, trying to cheer myself up. But ridiculous or not, the slap had hurt, and my whole face burned from where her long red fingernails had left tiny marks.
