by Gina Hummer
Angela confirmed with a nod. “Yeah and he’s more full of crap than his paper.” Angela pointed her fork at David. “Now, go on.”
David grinned. “Well, I’m glad to hear you don’t read the tabloids. As you said, they’re never truthful.” David took a small sip of white wine before he continued. “I was born in England; my mum was a stage director there. When I was ten, we moved to the States after my father died. Mum worked on Broadway for a while, directing and producing. I went back to London to attend the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. Landed a few commercials, got a few telly spots, and then managed to do some ghastly teen angst films and well…” He shrugged. “You probably know the rest.”
The women continued to eat their pasta. “I think my favorite film of yours was the one you did a few years ago where you married the gal for an inheritance and you hated each other, but of course you were crazy about each other? What was it?” Angela snapped her fingers trying to remember.
“Loves Easy,” David and Angela both blurted out at the same time. Everyone laughed, and several murmurs of agreement went up around the table. A few women called out the names of some of David’s other films and asked him for gossip about some of his co-stars. He obliged with a few “he wears a girdle” and “she smokes like a chimney” tales to the delight of the assembled group. Charlotte smiled to herself as she speared a chunk of mozzarella. The women had definitely warmed up to David.
David threw down his napkin and looked around the table. “Okay ladies; that’s enough about me. I want to hear about you.” He pushed his plate away and folded his arms on the table. “May I ask each of you what you write and what brought you to this group?”
They all tittered and looked embarrassed.
“Oh, you don’t want to hear any of that,” Angela demurred. “It’s not all that interesting.”
“Oh, but I disagree. I have to be honest with you; I find all of this quite fascinating.” He pointed at Emma, the petite woman Charlotte had assisted earlier. Her ash-blonde hair was pulled back in a simple twist and even in her simple uniform of a man’s white dress shirt tucked into slim black pants, a black cashmere sweater splayed across her shoulders, she exuded elegance and confidence. “How about you, love? What’s your story?”
The woman straightened up at having been singled out by David. “I’m Emma Vaughn,” she drawled in a soft Southern accent. “I was an editor for a women’s magazine for about twenty years – the sixty’s through the eighty’s – the fun decades,” she winked. “I’m retired now, but keep busy with speaking engagements. Hendra and I have been friends for more than twenty years, and I’m an original member of this wonderful group of ladies. I’m a widow and hate every minute of it, but my ladies here keep things interesting.”
“You’re from the South then?” David asked.
Emma smiled. “Dallas, born and bred. Twenty years in New York and twenty-five in L.A. and still can’t shake that Southern twang.”
“Oh, honey, I’d love to have a Southern twang,” a woman with a distinct Boston accent, short red hair and milk-white skin, shouted from the far end of the table as everyone laughed.
“Well, I guess it’s your turn, then. And you are…?”
“Samantha Lerner; senior features writer for ‘What’s the Score’ magazine. I fall in that ‘divorcee’ category. I’ve been gracing these ladies with my presence for about two years.”
“What’s the Score?’ I read it religiously. Lovely to meet you.”
David went around the table, querying the women about their stories. They all thrilled at being able to share a little bit of themselves with him and plenty of whoops and hollers went around the room several times. A few were authors, some had written copy for ad agencies or magazines, and others toiled at newspapers. David seemed captivated by the women’s words and asked them numerous questions, an endless well of curiosity. Even Hendra got in on the fun, her earlier animosity towards David melting away as she told tales of her days as literary editor at the Los Angeles Times. The hours tiptoed past the group as they plowed through several bottles of wine and even more stories. The party moved to the kitchen where everyone took turns cleaning up.
One by one, each of the women said their good nights. Karen stopped by to give Charlotte a quick squeeze on her shoulder and mouthed, “We’ll talk later,” as she gestured to David. At the end, only David, Charlotte, and Emma remained. They finished the last of the wine before Emma stood up and stretched; she looked at David.
“You wouldn’t mind walking an old woman home would you?”
David whipped his head around several times and feigned looking under the table. “I don’t see any old women here.”
She chuckled and shook her finger at him. “You better be careful; I could be dangerous.”
David took her arm. “So could I,” he said with a wink, which caused Emma to let out a full, throaty laugh. Charlotte had to suppress her own giggles.
The trio stepped outside into the icy night air. Goosebumps dotted Charlotte’s bare arms, and she folded them across her chest in a feeble effort to shut out the cold. A symphony of crickets surrounded them, and the sky blinked with stars. Emma grasped David’s hand as they headed toward her cabin.
“You know, you remind me of Newman,” Emma said as she tipped her head back in remembrance. “First time I met him was when I interviewed him for Butch Cassidy.” Emma let out a sigh and shook her head. “Such a charmer. Just like you.”
“Well, I can think of worse people to be compared to.” David smiled.
As they arrived at the widow’s cabin, Emma gave David a hug and Charlotte a kiss on the cheek.
“Good night children,” she said as she gave them a wink and disappeared behind the door.
To escape the chilly air, David and Charlotte ran back to their cabin. Charlotte continued to rub her arms as she threw on her gray sweater from earlier.
“Easy to forget how cold it gets in Southern California, eh?” David asked as he buttoned up his flannel.
“No kidding,” Charlotte said, her teeth chattering. She flicked on the lamp in the living room and noticed David had a huge smile on his face.
“I take it you enjoyed yourself?”
David reclined against the green suede couch and chuckled. “I have to say, that was one of the most enjoyable nights I’ve had in quite some time.” David turned to Charlotte, his face shining with wonder. “Your friends are amazing…the stories…the foul language…the wisdom.” He shook his head. “I had a great time. I can see why you love this place.”
Charlotte smiled as she headed to the old wooden trunk in front of the large picture window next to the door. “They’re great gals,” Charlotte said as she pulled out a set of sheets and a blanket. “Like I told you earlier, they’re like family to me.”
“Thank you for this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
Charlotte nodded. “I’m glad you had a good time. Of course, after I show you where you’ll be sleeping, you may be cursing me.”
Charlotte waited for David to grab his backpack before she led him down a small, narrow hallway. She opened the door to a bedroom and turned the light on.
“This is your room. It’s pretty small, but it’ll do the job.” Charlotte handed David the bedding from the trunk, which he accepted. “Sorry it’s not the Waldorf.”
David looked around the small bedroom, the only décor a full-sized bed and a tiny wooden nightstand with a wind-up face clock.
“After cramping around in the back seat of your car, this feels like the Waldorf. “ He sat the linens down on the bed. “Thanks again. For everything.”
“Sure.” Charlotte turned to go, but then glanced back. “Do you need some help making the bed?”
“You’ve done more than enough. I can manage.”
Charlotte crossed back and began to unfurl the sheets. “Come on. Two sets of hands will go faster than one.” David complied, and they had the bed made in a matter of seconds. Charlotte stood a
wkwardly in front of David, not sure what to say next.
“Good night then.” she blushed and left him alone.
“Good night.” He said as Charlotte closed the door.
Charlotte went back into the front room and retrieved her bags. She could hear David moving around in his room next to hers as she rummaged around for some pajamas. She extracted an oversized flannel night shirt and her toiletries bag. Charlotte clamped her hair back into an oversized barrette and brushed her teeth. She was about to turn out the light when she turned to stare at herself in the mirror. She ran a finger over the minute lines around her eyes and mouth, giving them a critical examination before she stepped back and looked down at her flannel shirt.
“Sexy,” she muttered sarcastically before she tiptoed toward her bedroom door. She eased the door open and walked toward the kitchen. Though it had been a long day and night, Charlotte was still wound up. She didn’t feel quite like going to bed just yet, so she decided to have one more little glass of wine to settle her down. She grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and went in search of the bottle of red she knew was hanging out somewhere. She opened a few doors and then spotted it on the top shelf of the pantry. She stood on her tip-toes to reach it, but the bottle was just out of her grasp.
“Damn,” she whispered in frustration. She went to pull one of the kitchen chairs over when she was startled by the sound of David’s voice.
“Let me,” he offered. “What is it you need?”
“You like scaring me, don’t you?” she teased. “The wine on the top shelf.”
He grinned at her and retrieved the bottle. “Nightcap?” he winked.
“Yeah. I’m not tired enough yet. Can I get you one?”
“Sure; why not?” he replied.
She poured two glasses, and they moved to the small living room. David sat in an overstuffed black leather chair across from the couch, while Charlotte went back into the trunk for a blanket to throw over her legs.
“Still chilly, huh?” David asked as he sipped his wine.
Charlotte nodded. “I get cold really easy. There’s a reason I live in California.”
As Charlotte settled onto the couch and adjusted the blanket, she stole another look at David. She was still in awe over how beautiful he was. He wore a pair of gray sweat pants and a worn black tee-shirt. Looking at his chiseled features in the dim light was almost too much for Charlotte. She could barely watch him without imagining what it would be like to be swept up inside those sculpted arms, bulging now against his shirt. To press up against his massive chest and to get lost in those captivating green eyes. For what seemed like the millionth time that day, Charlotte had to stop herself. Thirty she kept saying over and over in her mind. She didn’t remember thirty-year-old men looking like him when she was that age. She swirled her wine in her glass and then realized how quiet it was. She looked up and caught him staring at her and blushed.
“What?” she asked. “Is something hanging out of my nose?”
“Yes,” he deadpanned.
Charlotte’s hand flew to her nose and David laughed. In spite of herself, she joined him.
“You’re terrible,” she said as she took another sip of wine.
David shrugged and smiled. “I like seeing you laugh.”
Charlotte looked down, embarrassed, and then noticed him gazing at her yet again. “What?” she asked, now a touch exasperated.
He plopped his chin down into one palm. “I noticed at dinner you didn’t say a whole lot about yourself.”
“Oh, well; as I mentioned, I joined the group three years ago and well, I make a decent living writing steamy romance novels with action that I have never actually participated in, just heard about from these very experienced ladies ---”
David cut her off. “Still vague. I want to know more about the real Charlotte. Will you tell me more?”
“What, the widow/divorcee saga?” she asked.
“If you don’t mind… I’m curious,” he replied.
Charlotte drained her wine glass and poured a bit more. “Well, let’s see. Ben and I had been married for almost five years when I found out he was having an affair with one of his co-workers.”
“Wow. How’d you find out?”
“He’d called me to say he was going to be working late at the office. He was always working late, and I felt bad, so I picked up some dinner; thought I’d surprise him and take it to him.” Charlotte took a sip of wine. “He was working alright. All over his desk.”
David winced. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. I had the locks changed the next morning, and he moved in with her.”
“So you initiated divorce proceedings?”
“I did. But Ben just kept putting it off. Claimed he was too busy with work to concentrate on it. Even though he was living with this girl, he still seemed reluctant to move forward with the divorce. Kept saying he’d get around to it eventually.”
“Maybe he was hoping you two would work things out.”
“Yeah, well, that was never going to happen.” Charlotte shifted her weight on the couch. “Then one day I get this call from the hospital that Ben had been in a car accident. T-boned by a semi. Died on impact.”
David covered his mouth with his hands. “My God. How awful.”
“Turns out; his girlfriend was in the car with him, and she was in critical condition. After I identified Ben… I don’t know- I couldn’t help myself. I went to see the girlfriend.” Charlotte struggled to hold back tears. “She was in terrible shape---- dying, her face was unrecognizable. Neither I nor the hospital could track down this girl’s family.” Charlotte shook her head. “She was so alone. I stayed with her and held her hand until she died.” Charlotte cleared her throat to keep from crying. “As it turned out, her parents were dead; she was an only child, and she had no other relatives – no aunts, no uncles, no cousins. So I decided to bury her and Ben next to each other.”
“Wait,” David interrupted. “You stayed with your husband’s mistress and held her hand until she died? And then you paid for her burial, and you buried her next to your husband?” David shook his head. “That’s bollocks. She broke up your marriage!”
“They broke up my marriage,” Charlotte clarified. “He had an affair, which meant something was broken long before. I know it sounds crazy, but if you would’ve been in my shoes, would you have just left them there? I was still legally his wife ---- so should I have taken care of his business and left her there alone?” She held her head down and lowered her voice, surprised at the sympathy she still felt for the young woman. “She was younger than you are, and she had no one.” She reflected for a moment. “Besides, I needed the closure.” Charlotte finished the last of her wine. “And I got it.”
David was silent for a moment as the gravity of Charlotte’s word sank in. He set his wine glass down on the table and looked at her. “Amazing,” he said.
Charlotte snorted. “Amazing…maybe. Some might say pathetic. Either way, the whole situation wasn’t a high point for me. I try not to think about it too much. It’s just a sad ending followed by yet another sad ending, you know?” she gave him a faint smile. He kept those penetrating green eyes focused on her like a laser beam, never saying a word.
She began to fidget. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s just…you’re probably one of the strongest women I’ve ever met.” He downed the rest of his drink and set his glass on the table.
Charlotte smiled in spite of herself, her cheeks warming at his compliments. She took a deep breath in an attempt to steady her racing heart.
“That’s very flattering,” she murmured. “Thank you.” The moment hung in the air between them before Charlotte made a big show of stretching her legs and rearranging the frayed, itchy blanket.
“I’m tired of talking about myself,” she said to raise the atmosphere. “I want you to tell me more about you. You’ve lived quite the life for a thirty-year- old.” She leaned the side of her head against her h
and. “It must be extremely exciting at times.” She looked at him and waited for his smile.
She didn’t get one.
“What is it?” she asked.
David leaned back against the chair and propped his feet upon the table. Charlotte couldn’t help but notice he had nice feet ----much better than what you usually saw strolling up and down Venice Beach on any given day. “I feel older than thirty sometimes,” he sighed. “That probably sounds silly to you, but I get tired of running around all over the planet. I long for the day that I can just put down roots and be.” He stroked his chin, retreating further into thought. “I know I’m quite lucky to have the career and all the perks that come with it --- especially the income. It does come with a price, as you witnessed in town. Sometimes I feel selfish for complaining; other times I want to just disappear.” He sat up in his chair like a five-year-old who just spotted a bicycle under the Christmas tree, his expression animated. “Like now… I love the fact that I’ve He snapped his fingers and popped out of his chair. He ran back in the direction of his room. “Which reminds me. I need to text William to and let him know where I am. After that, I’m turning the phone off.”disappeared.”
“Who’s William?”
“My manager, who had the idea for me to come up here in the first place. When I saw that mob scene earlier, I was cursing him. Now I owe him. Be right back.”
Charlotte waited in the living room while David sent his text. Charlotte could tell he was sincere just by listening to the fatigue in his voice and the excitement he expressed when talking about the experience of meeting the ladies; he really did need a break from his life.
David bounded back into the room and poured the last of the wine into their glasses.
“I’m going to take it as a good sign that William didn’t text back right away; he must’ve made his flight.” David sat down and picked up his glass. “So how long are you ladies here for?” He winked. “I guess I’m wondering how long I’ll get to crash the party.”
Charlotte ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. “Well, we’re here for another four weeks. And of course; you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. I have a feeling you may die of boredom before that, though. I give you a week before you send up a flare to your manager to airlift you out of here.” She chuckled. “Week and a half at most.”
