by Lisa Jackson
“Are you trying to say ‘dangerous’?” she accused flatly.
“I just want to know that you’ll be careful. I wouldn’t have brought any of this up to you, but you insisted.”
“Now you sound like a private eye on one of those ridiculous detective shows. You’re the one who started this,” she reminded him.
“Not me, one of your employees.”
“You think.”
He opened the car door for her and placed the suitcase on the backseat. She slid into position behind the steering wheel, pausing as she poised her keys at the ignition. The car door shut, and she had to squint against the blinding glare of the sun through the open car window. “I wish you’d reconsider,” he suggested in a rough voice filled with intimate memories.
“You know that’s impossible.” She started the car, but before she could put it into gear, his fingers had captured the sun-gilded strands of her reddish hair, forcing her to look up again. In silent promise, he kissed her upturned lips.
“I’ll miss you,” he vowed, wondering at the dull ache pounding between his temples as he watched Maren wheel the sports car down the long driveway. Pushing his palms into the back pockets of his jeans, he wondered if there would ever be a day when she would trust him enough to stay with him.
KYLE HAD BEENAS GOOD as his word. Elise had called the following week and been happy to report that the offer was completely satisfactory. As a show of good faith, Kyle had offered Maren a bonus program that would allow her to use the money to purchase shares of Sterling Recording Company stock. The attorneys for Sterling were rewriting the offer, and it would be ready to be signed by the end of the month.
Maren was so swamped with work that she didn’t have a chance to breathe. Everything that could go wrong with the Mirage video did. There had been lighting problems in the soundstage, some of the costumes had been lost for nearly two days before being found hidden in a trunk near the location site and a small accident with fireworks exploding at the wrong time had shorted out the amplifiers. Fortunately no one had been hurt.
“I tell ya,” Ted Bensen had stated at a meeting earlier in the week. “It’s almost as if this Mirage sequence is jinxed. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear we were being sabotaged!”
Maren had dismissed his complaints as a way for Ted to vent his frustrations. She couldn’t blame him for being concerned: the problems were unlikely, but not inexplicable. Maren remembered the first video she had done for Mirage. Compared with it, the problems with “Yesterday’s Heart” seemed insignificant.
What bothered her more than the puzzling events happening to the Mirage video was Jan. The secretary’s attitude had become frigid, and try as she might, Maren wasn’t able to communicate with her. Jan’s work hadn’t suffered, but her remarks to Maren about the impending sale of Festival were severe.
“Why do you think we’ve had all these problems with the latest Mirage video?” Jan had asked with a knowing glint in her brown eyes. “Why now, I’ll bet Kyle Sterling is behind all this. He’s trying to find a way to force you to sell!”
“That’s ludicrous,” Maren had replied indignantly. “He knows I intend to go through with the deal.”
“Sure,” Jan had responded with a frown. “But you haven’t done it yet, have you? I think Sterling is just hedging his bets!”
Maren had pushed aside Jan’s pointed comments and attributed them to overwork and a lousy situation with Jake. No doubt the secretary was feeling very insecure, and the fact that Festival was going to be sold didn’t help the situation.
The first break in Maren’s seven-day work weeks came nearly three weeks from the time she had left La Jolla. Fortunately, despite the unlikely delays, Maren had been able to accomplish more than she had hoped in the twenty-odd days and had even started work on Joey Righteous’s video, once Kyle had signed the contract. She had seen Kyle fleetingly during the long three weeks. He had called several times and had been able to come to L.A. to watch the location taping of “Yesterday’s Heart.” But their time together had been short, and all too quickly he had returned to La Jolla, leaving her alone and taking with him the signed agreement of sale for Festival Productions. It had been a difficult decision for Maren, and more than once she had experienced the uncanny feeling that she had made an irreversible mistake in agreeing to sell the one thing she had worked so hard to create. In handing Kyle the signed document, Maren had given Kyle the opportunity to free himself of any commitment to her.
With her work load slightly less burdensome, Maren decided to take Kyle up on his open invitation. She deserved a small vacation.
It was evening by the time she had packed. She decided to take the scenic route along the coast back to La Jolla. That way she wouldn’t have to concentrate on the snarls of traffic that backed up the freeways, and she would be able to consider all that had happened to her in the last few weeks.
The drive was pleasant and carefree. Wind from the Pacific Ocean blew through the Torrey pines that clung tenaciously to the parched bluffs overlooking the sea north of La Jolla. Maren let out a contented sigh as she drove southward and noticed that the final rays of a dying sun turned the blue waters of the Pacific various shades of brilliant gold.
In the short time she had been with Kyle, Maren hadn’t felt that the problems between them had been resolved. Perhaps her agreement to sell Festival Productions would change all that. She certainly hoped so. Elise Conrad, Maren’s attorney, had assured Maren that Kyle’s offer to buy out Festival was not only legal, but also more than equitable. In Elise’s estimation, Maren would never get a better offer. She advised her client to sell and escape from the rigorous daily routine of running the business. Reluctantly Maren had agreed. The one shining spot in the entire transaction was that Maren would finally be able to pay off Jacob Green and get out from under his slippery thumb.
Before leaving for La Jolla, Maren had called Brandon. It was a stilted conversation, and though he did admit that he felt better physically, he wasn’t able to accept the idea of working at a desk job for the rest of his life. He’d consulted several career analysts, but none of the employment they had suggested appealed to him. After the action and glamour of the tennis circuit, a dull job of pushing papers just didn’t cut it.
Brandon had indicated that his physical therapy sessions were nearly finished and that he hoped Maren would consider letting him reside in the condominium they had shared when they were married. Though it was her part of the divorce settlement and she now rented it to an elderly couple, Brandon reasoned that she could drum up some excuse to evict them. After all, what was he to do? He couldn’t very well support himself, at least not yet.
Maren had hung up the phone with trembling hands. A wave of nausea rushed up her throat as she realized that Kyle had been right. Brandon had been using her, playing upon her sympathies and guilt all along. Her ex-husband was avoiding taking any responsibility for his own life. When she considered all the guilt she had borne over Brandon’s unfortunate accident, a new feeling of self-awareness took hold of her: His accident wasn’t her fault. Maren didn’t owe Brandon anything.
And so, soon she would be working for Kyle, she mused to herself as she passed through the familiar gates guarding his estate. She found the thought pleasant, if a little unnerving. The largest step of all had already been taken. Filming was complete on the first Mirage video, and editing would be finished within a couple of weeks. A celebration was planned for the first showing of the tape.
Maren turned off the car motor, and a pleased smile spread over her face. The only thing she hadn’t been able to accomplish in the last few weeks concerned Mitzi Danner’s videotape of “Going for Broke.” Maren had come across no evidence to indicate that Mitzi’s tape had been duplicated. She was still bothered by Kyle’s accusations, but had come to the conclusion that Ryan Woods, whoever in the world he was, had made a mistake—an incredibly big mistake.
Maren walked briskly to the front door with newly felt confidence. P
erhaps things were going to get better. Before she could knock on the door it was pulled open and Lydia greeted her with worried eyes.
“Thank God you’re here,” she murmured, hastily making the sign of the cross over her breasts.
“What’s wrong?” Maren’s heart leapt to her throat. The anxiety in Lydia’s dark eyes and the pained expression on her face made Maren’s pulse race.
“Come in, come in,” Lydia insisted, moving out of the doorway. She rambled for a minute in rapid Spanish before realizing that Maren couldn’t understand a word she was saying. “Dios,” she whispered. “It’s Holly.”
Maren’s eyes widened in horror. She grabbed Lydia’s arm as she imagined a gamut of horrible accidents occurring. Her heart felt as if it had stopped beating. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”
Lydia nodded gravely. “That woman called!” she spat out.
“What woman—who called? Is Holly hurt?”
Lydia attempted to allay Maren’s worst fears. “She bleeds, but it’s from the heart,” the elderly woman whispered. “That mother of hers…” Once again communication was broken by Lydia’s rapid stream of Spanish.
“Hold on, Lydia. Calm down and explain to me what happened—in English. Where’s Holly now?”
“She’s down at the beach…I think…. She wouldn’t talk to me….”
“What about Kyle?”
“He’s with her.”
Maren’s worries subsided slightly. Slowly she let out a gust of air. “Maybe I shouldn’t intrude.”
“It wouldn’t be intruding. Holly needs you…”
“She’s got her father.”
“She needs a woman who cares for her,” Lydia stated emphatically.
“Like you.”
“Dios, no!” Lydia replied, shaking her graying head. “I am like the grandmother…with you it’s different.” She took Maren’s arm and hustled her toward the back door. “You go. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”
More to placate Lydia than anything else, Maren decided to track down Holly and Kyle. If there had been some family disturbance with Rose, Maren doubted that she could help and secretly thought it better for father and daughter to work it out alone. However, she slowly descended the weathered steps and squinted into the dusky twilight. Several hundred yards northward she spotted Kyle and Holly sitting on the beach. Maren took her time approaching them.
“Lydia insisted that I come looking for you,” she stated when she was still several feet away from the two huddled figures. Kyle looked up, and the lines on his face indicated the strain he had been enduring. Holly refused to raise her eyes, but Maren noticed the wet tracks from recent tears on her cheeks. Maren’s heart ached for the sad girl with the trembling lower lip. “If I’m intruding…”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Kyle interrupted, but Holly refused to comment. “Maybe you can explain a few things to Holly,” he suggested, his gray eyes pleading.
Maren took a tentative seat near the girl. “Maybe I can. I was a fifteen-year-old girl myself once,” she allowed, rubbing the toe of her tennis shoe into the sand.
“Did your mom work?” Holly charged, her frail voice catching on a sob.
“Yes, she did,” Maren admitted. “She was a schoolteacher. Taught English at the high school I attended. It was a terrible burden. I never got away with anything.”
Holly lifted a suspicious eye, as if to see if Maren were bluffing. The sincere look on Maren’s studious face convinced her that Maren was for real. “Did she ever miss your birthday?” Holly asked in a voice so low it was lost in the surf.
Maren frowned as she thought. She studied the disappearing horizon before turning to Holly. “I don’t remember. I doubt it. She was pretty big on birthdays, Christmas and all the other holidays. I think I’d remember if any of them were skipped.”
“Yeah, I though so,” Holly sniffed, stiffening her spine. Kyle placed a comforting arm over his daughter and pulled her against his side. The look he cast Maren was filled with the pain he was bearing for his child.
“Is that what happened?” Maren asked softly. “Did your mom forget your birthday?”
Holly had trouble trusting her voice. When she replied, it quavered. “Oh, she remembered all right. It’s just that she thinks she has to stay in Texas longer than she planned and…well…she won’t be able to see me on my birthday. I’m going to be sixteen…and…she promised me a big party.” The tears Holly had been fighting slid silently down her cheeks. “She doesn’t love me,” the girl said flatly.
“Oh, I doubt that,” Maren responded, with a gentle smile. Slowly she reached out and touched Holly’s curly hair. Kyle’s eyes reflected his surprise. “I’m sure your mother loves you very much,” Maren maintained as Holly broke into sobs. “Some people have difficulty expressing their love…”
“She’s sending me a birthday present,” Holly interrupted angrily. “But she can’t seem to find the time to come home!”
Maren hesitated, finding it hard to defend Rose. “Look, Holly, I know that sometimes it’s hard to understand your mother. But you have to think about it from her perspective. Her career is very important to her…”
“More important than I am!”
“I don’t think so.” Kyle eyed Maren suspiciously, but Maren continued. “She probably knows that you’re safe and well cared for here with your father, and right now she can’t afford to let her career slide. Soon you’ll be grown and out of the house, and what will Rose have other than her career?”
Holly let out a ragged sigh, and her teeth sank into her lower lip. “You act as if you understand her—why would you?”
“I’m only trying to give her the benefit of the doubt…and, if it’s a party you want, I know one where you’ll be an honored guest…” Maren’s eyes held Kyle’s confused gaze. The angle of his chin warned her that she had better know what she was doing.
“What party?” Holly asked, distracted at least partially from her own misery.
“Well, it might not be as grand as a sixteenth-birthday party, but I’m planning a celebration next week because I’ve just finished a very important piece of business.” Kyle’s eyebrows lifted in interest. “And the best part is that I think all of the members of Mirage will be there.”
“Really?” Holly sniffed back her tears.
“Really. What do you say?”
Kyle looked as if he were about to interfere, but the determination in Maren’s gaze deterred him.
“Oh, Maren,” Holly sighed, temporarily forgetting her woes. “Is it all right if I bring a friend?”
“Of course.”
In a gesture overflowing with gratitude, Holly wrapped her small arms around Maren’s shoulders and smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I…I’m sorry I gave you such a bad time the last time you were here.”
“It’s all right…”
Abruptly Holly stood. “I’m going to call Sara right now. She’ll be out of her mind!” With that she cast one last smile at her father, turned and raced back toward the house.
A cryptic smile spread over Kyle’s thin lips. “It seems that you’ve just won another victory,” he decided as he watched his daughter disappear up the stairs along the cliff face. “Holly thinks you’re wonderful.”
“Of course she does,” Maren said with a slow-spreading grin. “I just offered her the chance of a lifetime: to meet J. D. Price, teenage heartthrob and hunk extraordinaire.” Her laughter warmed the night.
“So you think you bribed her?”
Maren shook her head. “Bribe has such a distasteful connotation. I prefer to think that I charmed her.”
“Just like her old man?”
Maren smiled wickedly. “Well, maybe not in the same manner.” She sobered as a thought struck her. “Holly went to the doctor last week, didn’t she?” Kyle nodded. “Well, what’s the prognosis?”
Kyle closed his eyes. “Dr. Seivers seems to think that she’s fine. Her uterus seems to have healed properly and though t
here’s a slight chance that more problems could arise, he’s not worried.”
‘Thank God,” Maren whispered in relief.
“You really care for her, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Maren admitted with a shy smile. “I was only kidding before. She’s the one who’s charmed me.”
Kyle’s arm reached out in the darkness. Moon glow caught in her eyes and he pushed on her wrist, causing her to lose her balance. She fell back on the white sand, her hair framing her face in tangled waves of auburn silk. Leaning over her, Kyle studied the finely sculpted shape of her oval face and the mystery in her blue eyes.
“I’ve missed you,” he admitted in a voice as rough as the sea. Leaning forward, his lips brushed softly against her throat. At the tenderness in the gesture, she gasped. Her love for this man seemed to overflow into the night.
Watching him through a dark fringe of lashes, she was forced to concede the truth. “And I’ve missed you…hopelessly.” She lifted her head and captured his lips with hers, feverishly showing how desperate her longing had become.
“How long can you stay with me?” he asked, dark gray eyes holding hers fast.
“As long as you want me to…” she sighed.
“Forever?”
One word hung in the air between them, drowning out the sound of the relentless tide.
“Oh, Kyle,” she answered, yearning with all her heart to accept his proposal and share her life with him. There was nothing she wanted more in this life than to share his darkest secrets, love his only child and sleep with his arms wrapped securely around her breasts each night.
“I’m serious, Maren. You know that. Please marry me.”
How could she refuse that which she most wanted? On this lovely star-studded night, lying on the silver sand, his body pressed urgently against hers, she could find no objections to his request. “Of course I’ll marry you, Kyle,” she sighed, giving in to her most intimate desires. “I’d love to.” She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of his lips molding impatiently to hers.
