He pulled back then, glancing over my shoulder. “Shannon left you something rather important and legal-looking.” He led me to the table where the publishing contract lay, on top of a colored envelope—all arranged by a vase of flowers.
“That’s mine.” I reached for the contract, but his hand caught it first.
His eyes read the cover page. “This is about your book? The project?”
“It’s not a project. It’s more of a journal.” I sounded angry.
“A journal?” His jaw seemed to tighten and he turned his attention back to the contract.
“Sort of. It’s very personal. Why Shannon thinks I need to share it is beyond me. But she does, so much so that she’s already sent it to a publisher.” My voice wavered and I closed my eyes, willing the tears back.
“Oh.” He was assessing my face as he said gently, “Without your permission?”
I nodded silently.
“That’s a bit unforgivable of her,” he murmured. “Are you all right?”
“I’m really angry. I can’t believe she put my very…very humiliating life into a stranger’s hands because she thinks it should be published.” I felt tears well up and shook my head. I will not cry.
Josh seemed at a loss. His eyes went back and forth between me and the contract. “I imagine she thought she was trying to do something good for you.” He tilted my head back, meeting my eyes with tenderness.
I was suddenly aware of a tear dangling from my nose. My voice was quivering as I spoke. “I’m a private person. Well, maybe not to you. I can’t seem to shut up around you.” I mumbled to a stop as I sniffed.
He studied my expression. “I bludgeoned you into sharing. I feel like an utter ass now. Poorly done on my part.” He pulled me back into his arms and kissed me soundly.
I melted against him.
“Don’t cry.” He kissed me again, and again. His hand settled against my cheek and he peered down at me. I could only imagine my red nose and mottled cheeks. I get all blotchy when I cry.
“Come on. A hot shower and some tea will make things less gloomy.” He took my hand, leading me around until we found the guest suite and a bathroom.
He sat me on the stool before the mirror, leaned into the shower and turned on the hot water. I was sniffling a little, but trying desperately to stop.
He seemed saddened by the obvious battle I was having with my emotions. He helped me undress, his hands growing unsteady and lingering by the time I stood before him in my skimpy black lace bra and underwear.
He pulled me into his embrace unsteadily. His hands moved up and down my back until I was completely relaxed in his hold. “I’m going to make you a cup of tea. Or coffee. Whatever I can find,” he whispered, dropping a kiss on my neck.
My breath was a little shaky as I nodded against his chest.
His voice was soft against my ear. “Claire?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“If it’s all right with you, I’ll go get the scripts and come back.”
I felt a smile spread across my face as I glanced up at him. “Reading scripts, with hot tea…or coffee.”
“You’re sure? It’s not infringing on birthday plans?”
I shook my head. “No. I hope you like Chinese. It’s my favorite.”
“I do. I’ll let you take your shower and I’ll be back shortly.” He kissed me quickly, then slipped from the bathroom with one last lingering look at my black lace ensemble. He groaned as he shut the door, making me smile in spite of everything.
Chapter Five
Shannon’s overstuffed couch was really comfortable. I must have fallen asleep, again. I was curled up in my blue silk pajamas, feeling slightly disoriented but very comfy on the couch’s super-soft pillows.
Someone was talking, softly, but I could hear them.
“She’ll be pissed, you know that,” Shannon said.
“Very likely,” Josh said. It sounded like he was smiling.
“Why are you interested?” Shannon never worried about asking questions. “I mean, I know she’s an amazing woman. But you’re kind of breaking the whole one night stand concept by sticking around.”
I waited. I had been wondering the same thing. Not that I minded he was sticking around. I liked it—which was worrying.
“I…like her. She’s lovely.”
My heart thumped in my chest.
“I don’t have a plan, Shannon. I’m doing what,” he paused, “what feels right. What I want to do. And that’s being here,” he added. “I’m living in the moment, something Claire feels very strongly about.”
“She was encouraging you to live in the moment? Claire?” Shannon sighed loudly, sounding irritated.
“She’s made me think about things a bit differently—”
Shannon interrupted. “She’s really good at helping other people through their neuroses, but she’s terrible about self-examination and introspection.”
“Are you implying that I’m neurotic?” There was laughter in his voice.
“She’s been really stomped on, Josh. More than you can possibly understand.” Her tone was becoming decidedly snippy.
“I might, but no one seems willing to talk about it,” he argued.
“It’s not that easy. And I’m not going to tell her story for her. Now that you two are…whatever you are, what she tells you is her call.”
“Oh? And who submitted her story to a publisher?”
You go, Josh. I smiled.
“Publishing is different. It’s not personal…not really. Part of the reason I want this for her”—she thumped something—“is so she can feel a sense of self-worth again. He’s taught her to feel useless.”
“She seems to feel responsible.”
“You talked about it?” Shannon sounded incredulous.
“Not really. I tried, but she was…nervous. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or push any more than I had.” His voice was gentle, making my heart respond unexpectedly.
There was a long pause before Shannon spoke. “She doesn’t want to be labeled a victim. But that’s exactly what she is. Was.” There was another long pause. “Don’t hurt her, Josh,” she whispered.
“I won’t hurt her.” His voice sounded anguished and my heart lurched at the sound.
I rolled on the couch, mumbling a little and rubbing my eyes. I have no idea if I succeeded in waking up or not.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” Shannon offered me a glass of wine.
I took the glass and smiled at her.
“Sorry, I didn’t sleep much last night.” As soon as the words were out, I blushed. Had I really just said that aloud? I studiously avoided Josh.
Shannon raised an eyebrow, but let my slip slide. “How was your spa day?”
I smoothed my crazy curls. “Well, I slept through the mud bath and the massage. I have no idea why I fell asleep now.”
Josh came to sit by me, a smile breaking across his face. I could feel an answering smile pulling at the corners of my mouth in response. “Travel makes me tired.” He caught my hand in his easily.
I stared at our hands together and felt my heart thud. Josh squeezed my hand once and I met his gaze. It was so damn ridiculous. It wasn’t fair. He was so absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. I had to smile whenever he did.
Shannon sat across from us, rolling her eyes at the exchange. She peered at the contract I’d shoved under the edge of the couch before dozing.
“Did you even look at it?” She leaned forward and pulled the contract from under the couch.
“No.” My voice didn’t convey the bite I wanted. “But I feel much more inclined to read now. Did you bring your scripts? Am I allowed to read them? I mean, is it too nosy of me?” I waited.
“I was hoping you’d say something like that.” His gaze fell to my lips, distracting me from his response. He reached to the floor then sat up. “I left them in the car,” he said, smiling ridiculously. “I’ll be back in a moment.” He winked at me, shook his head at Shannon, and
walked from the room.
She barely waited for him to leave the room. “You’ll help him make his big decisions, but you’re going to keep putting your own life on hold?”
“Are you trying to pick a fight?” I pointed at the contract as I spoke. “Even if I thought this was going to somehow make my life easier or more logical or even less…challenging, what difference does it make right this minute?” I stood up and stared at her, grappling with my anger. “And I like my life,” I lied, but she cut me off.
“You like it? You don’t want more? You used to. You wanted to travel, to focus on your writing. You used to paint, too, all the time. Remember?”
I shrugged. “I have responsibilities.”
“You have kids, and bills to pay, I know that. And you don’t want to be a charity case or rely on someone else to provide for you and your crew. I get it, I do. Publishing this book gives you options, real options.”
“These are your options.” I looked at her for a minute, trying to explain without getting upset. “Don’t you see that by submitting this, you’ve put me into yet another situation that isn’t my choice?”
Her face fell then. “I didn’t think of it that way. I’m sorry.” She looked at me then, and I could see her mind reeling to find a new strategy. “But you know that you can’t move on, be you, where you are right now. This deal could help you start over now. No more treading water, as you put it.” She smiled.
“Just because I tell you I’m treading water doesn’t mean I expect you to fix it. Sometimes it’s okay just to listen and be supportive, you know? I’d have been fine with something more traditional, like a card or flowers. Trying to publish what might as well have been my diary is a little over the top.” I tried to sound teasing. I came off sounding frustrated. I felt frustrated. “I have a life. Maybe one you wouldn’t pick, but it’s mine.”
“And you’re happy?”
“I’m getting there.”
“Really? And what about him? You’re okay bumping into the ex-husband every once in a while?” She spoke carefully. “You feel safe?”
I stared at her. I didn’t have to answer. I didn’t have to justify my life or my choices. I didn’t have to admit that every time I saw Daniel I felt the need to run and hide. I felt heat flush my cheeks, her words stirring more of a reaction than I wanted to admit.
“Exactly.” She paused. The next words were delivered rapid-fire, as if she knew better than to say them aloud. “Please stop saying you’re not a victim. I’ve talked to you after too many ‘accidents’ and hospital trips. I know the truth, Claire. He may not have hit you every day. But he did worse. Not just with his hands, but his words. He’s made you question who you are.”
I stared at her, horrified at her words.
Josh’s voice was garbled. “Shannon.” His sudden presence startled both of us into silence. He stood in the doorway, his face pale and his jaw locked.
“Can you give us a minute, please?” I asked softly. I couldn’t meet his eyes. It was too much. Knowing he’d heard… I felt any restraint slipping away.
“I’ll wait for the food,” he murmured, retracing his steps from the room.
My anger was evident as I said, “This is what I don’t want. Damn it, Shannon. Right now you’re changing who I am. Now, no matter what else Josh—” My voice wavered and I took a deep breath to go on. “Whatever he might see, I will always be…damaged.” I took a deep, steadying breath.
“Claire.” Shannon’s voice was full of regret, but I interrupted her.
“If my book is published, that’s what I’ll be to the world. Is it too much to want, for a while, to be me, Claire, without whispers or pity, without the word victim automatically associated with me?”
“It’s not too much. It’s not enough. I’m sorry. I honestly wanted to help you. I thought of the book as a new beginning, a doorway to a new place and time.” Her eyes were bright.
“It’s too personal,” I muttered, shutting down.
“It’s tough, thoughtful, painful, hard to digest and emotionally draining. But it’s brilliant. I think it could mean a lot to survivors like you. Women who need a role model, to learn that escape is possible.”
“I’m not strong enough to be a role model, Shannon.” My voice faded.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re the strongest person I know.”
My cell phone began to ring, but I had no idea where it was. It grew steadily louder. Josh brought it into the room, holding it out. Shannon took it, answering it.
“Hi, Natalie.” Shannon laughed. “She’s here.” Shannon looked at Josh. “No, we’re talking with friends. Yes, she’s made some new friends.”
I knew Josh was looking at me, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. My arms were wrapped tightly around myself as I tried to calm the ache in my chest. My skeletons had been dumped unceremoniously in the middle of my abbreviated fairy tale romance. My past was like that—a cold shower; a slap in the face.
“No, you won’t be able to guess.” Pause. “Josh Wiley,” Shannon continued.
I could hear the screaming where I stood, and smiled in spite of myself. Josh sat on the couch, a sigh escaping him.
“We’re talking about movies and books and stuff.” Pause. “No, I don’t think she’s boring him.”
There was a long pause as Natalie gave Shannon an earful. My gaze traveled from Shannon’s amused face to Josh.
He was staring at the scripts in his lap, obviously uncomfortable. Whether it was from Nat’s squeals or Shannon’s and my argument was unknown. And I wasn’t sure what was more uncomfortable: the fact that he knew my darkest secret, that my daughter knew him and was obviously a fan, or the fact that I was infatuated with him.
I sighed, completely confused and frustrated by the evening’s turn of events.
Josh stood, coming to stand in front of me. He was looking at me with the same intense hazel eyes that made me quiver from the inside out. His hand was soft against my cheek.
Shannon’s voice broke the silence. “No, I didn’t know that. I’ll go to the website as soon as we get off.” Pause. “I want you to come too. Isn’t Spring Break coming up? Let me work on your mom some more.”
Mental alarm bells went off and I put my hand out. I couldn’t handle anything else orchestrated by Shannon, not tonight anyway.
“Here’s your mom.” Shannon handed me the phone.
“Mom, are you seriously sitting in the same room with Josh Wiley? He may not be one of my favorites, but this is still so cool.” Excitement filled Nat’s voice.
“Yes, he’s here.” He was inches from me, looking truly concerned and as devastatingly handsome as ever. I murmured, “How are you?”
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead, then went into the kitchen.
“Dad and I are suffering through my algebra homework. It gave Grams a headache. But who cares about my homework right now? I mean, Josh Wiley!”
I tried not to tense, but the panic was there.
It was Daniel’s night to visit the kids. It’s not a big deal. Mom’s there. Everything is okay.
I sat down in an armchair as we talked, pulling my knees under me as I tried to squish the panic lingering in my stomach. “Tell me about your day, Nat. Please?”
Natalie filled me in on school, posting my photo, and a cute new boy in class.
Shannon was clicking on her laptop when her eyebrow suddenly shot up. She turned the screen toward Josh as he came back from the kitchen. He nodded.
“Dad just said you looked beautiful in the picture,” Natalie said. “What did you do today? Other than hang out with Josh Wiley, I mean.”
I didn’t linger over Daniel’s compliment or the knot it left in my stomach. “I’ve been busy. Yoga, massage, mud bath. All very different…” I paused, my anxiety vanishing as the last twenty-four hours replayed vividly. My gaze wandered to Josh and my cheeks grew hot. The look in his eyes made me ache. “Different in a good way.”
Josh smiled
at me, apparently amused by my choice of words.
“I’m glad you’re having fun. Do you think he’ll give you an autograph? That’d be so cool. Mom, here’s Will.”
“Mommy?” Will asked.
“Hey, little man. How are you? I’m missing you. Tell me about your day.”
And he did. Will was a talker, when he would talk on the phone. He told me about class, scouts, softball, and that the crusts weren’t cut off of his sandwich.
I laughed, gushed, and grew a little misty over missing his first love note. Will sounded horrified as he explained. “Grams put it in your jewelry box ‘cause I don’t want it.” He paused. “Dad wants to talk to you. Miss you, Mom, and I love you.”
“I love you too, Will. Be good for Grams.”
I felt myself grow tense and took a calming breath as he spoke. “Happy birthday, Claire. Having fun?”
“Hi, Daniel, yes, thanks.”
I stood, immediately antsy. I turned and looked out the window at the blue-black water of the ocean below. His voice still unsettled me, but it didn’t make me cower. Not as much, anyway.
Shannon and Josh were reflected in the window. I saw Shannon shake her head. She leaned toward Josh and spoke softly before she stood and left the room.
Josh stood and made his way to me. He stopped just behind me, not touching me. His reflection showed his uncertainty. He seemed to hesitate, his hands twisting the manuscript he held. He ran a hand over his face then sat in the chair. He opened the script he held, but kept glancing at my back.
I was sorry he was there then, that he’d heard so much—possibly everything. I let my forehead rest on the cool windowpane, but decided more privacy was necessary. I opened the glass door and slipped onto the balcony. The balmy ocean breeze hit me, making my chest feel heavier. The gentle roar of the beach was soothing though, so I focused on those sounds to temper the edge that crept into Daniel’s voice.
“I obviously didn’t make the sandwiches, your mom did.” Daniel’s voice was teasing, playful.
“I know. I’ll talk to her.”
He sighed. “He’ll learn to eat them with the crust. That’s ridiculous.”
Hollywood Ever After Page 7
