by Jamie Wesley
Fliss’s heart clenched in sympathy. The last thing they wanted was for this to be a stressful experience for her or the other women. Her gaze swung to Alex.
Without taking his eyes off Rachel, he handed the camera to Fliss and crouched in front of the older woman. He gathered her thin hand between his and looked into her wary eyes. “You’re nervous. That’s understandable, but you’re not going to sound dumb.”
“Of course you’re not, because I won’t let him do that to you,” Fliss said when Rachel still looked unconvinced. “That’s why I’m here.” She flexed her biceps. “I’m the brain and the brawns of this operation.”
Rachel rewarded her with a tentative smile.
Alex turned to her, his eyebrows lifted. “Thanks, Fliss, as always for your support.”
“No problem.” She shrugged. “I mean, what can I say? I’m a selfless individual.”
“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” He swept her figure with his dark gaze, sending an electric charge through her system. Before she could reply—not that she had any idea what to say—he returned his attention to Rachel. “All I want you to do, all of you to do, is to be yourself and speak from your heart. Pretend like I’m not here. Do you think you can do that?”
He offered up a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Rachel nodded, confidence entering her eyes and smile. How could it not? He was being so warm. Understanding. Caring. Who was this man and why did Alex keep him locked away most of the time? She’d accused him of being emotionless, but she was starting to realize that wasn’t it at all. It was a mask he wore. To protect himself? If so, from what?
He felt. A lot. She could pretend otherwise because it was easier to do so, but that didn’t make it true. If he didn’t feel for others, he wouldn’t have come after her the night of the Hollywood Gives Back Gala. He wouldn’t have shown concern for her on other occasions.
“Great.” He squeezed Rachel’s hand, then went down the line, holding the individual gazes of the other women for a few seconds each. “I have faith in all of you. I couldn’t have asked for better interviewees.” One by one, they all smiled, the strain disappearing from their faces. He looked over his shoulder at Fliss. Their gazes caught and held for a breathless moment. She couldn’t help but offer him a smile, too. He slowly returned it. Their connection was real. Undeniable. Except they had to deny it, right?
Before she could come up with any answers, he rose and resumed his position behind her. She stood and handed him the camera. Their fingers brushed. The contact, so light, shouldn’t have sent a rush of awareness through her. But it did. He flexed his hand against hers, like he felt it too. Like he didn’t want to let her go. But then he did. She shouldn’t have felt like she’d lost something precious, but she did.
“Remember, be yourself,” he said to the women. “Talk to each other. That’s all we want.”
Fliss stepped aside when Alex raised the camera to his eye. He commanded the equipment easily, spanning the couch with it. “How did Farrah and Phillip meet?” he asked.
“At a charity event,” Mary said, adjusting her glasses. “She’d started to have some success and so had he as a producer. He was presenting an award to her. When he and Farrah made eye contact, wow.” She fanned herself. “He wouldn’t go talk to her, so she flirted with every man in attendance. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, stormed the dance floor, and stole her from her dance partner.”
“What happened then? Was it a love story?” Fliss asked.
Sue chuckled. “In a way. They couldn’t stay away from each other, but she made him run circles before she allowed him to catch her.”
“She wasn’t perfect,” Alex said.
“No, that she wasn’t,” Sue said. “Farrah always said she started out poor, but she didn’t have to end that way. She had the perfect partner in Phillip. They had the same dream—to make her a star—and they did it.” She sighed and set aside her knitting needles. “But that kind of success often comes with a price, and she never knew how much until the bill collector came calling.”
“You were her best friend. Did she confide in you?”
“As much as she could. It was a different time. We didn’t have cell phones and computers, so we wrote letters and talked on the phone sometimes. She came to visit when she could. At some point, it became too much for her—the fame, the attention, the demands. She never had any time to just be Farrah.”
“She turned to alcohol.” A strain had crept into Alex’s voice. Although the camera remained steady, his hand tightened on the piece of equipment. Why? It was all part of the puzzle that was Alex, a puzzle she was becoming obsessed with solving.
“I didn’t know.”
Fliss returned her attention to the couch at the sound of Sue’s voice. The older woman’s eyes had clouded over with sadness and regret. “Not at first,” Sue continued. “I don’t think anyone did. As great of a singer as she was, she could have given those Hollywood actresses a run for their money. We didn’t know she’d drink in private when no one else was around. Eventually, it started affecting her career, and she couldn’t hide it any longer. Phillip got in her face one day and told her either she could get help or she could lose everything. That woke her up.” A rueful smile spread across her face. “She said, ‘I’ve worked too long and too hard to let it slip away.’ It was a battle she fought for the rest of her life, but fight she did.”
“If there was one thing you wished the world knew about Farrah, what would it be?” Alex asked.
Sue stared straight into the camera, her eyes now focused and clear. “Farrah was a real woman who had her ups and downs, like we all do. She could be self-absorbed, but she could also be completely selfless. She knew what she wanted out of life and went after it. Did she always make the right decisions? No, but who does?”
Fliss glanced to her left to find Alex’s intense gaze trained directly on her. Once again, her heart stopped for a suspenseful moment, then started again at triple its normal rate. Oh, yes. She definitely knew something about going after what she wanted and not always making the right decisions. The real question was, were they always one and the same? And how would she know the difference?
CHAPTER TEN
Fliss turned on her heel to face Alex on the sidewalk a few blocks away from Sue’s house. Excitement danced in her eyes. “Today was fantastic. I knew everything would work out.”
“Hmm.” The only response he felt comfortable committing to.
She wheeled and joined in lock step with him again, looping her arm through his and hip-checking him. He willed himself to ignore how good her body felt pressed against his. Tried to ignore how the scent of strawberries that clung to her made his mouth water.
“Is that all you have to say?” she asked. “You were amazing with them. They gave us more material to use than we ever could’ve dreamed of.”
Alex shrugged, but her praise sent pleasure rushing through him. “I just hope I have enough material to edit into something that will appeal to Mansfield.”
“Why aren’t you excited?”
“I am.”
She stepped in front of him again, blocking his path, and tilted her head back to look him in the eye. He laughed at her skeptical expression. “I am,” he repeated more forcefully. “We did get some good stuff, but nothing is in the bag yet. Not until Phillip Mansfield agrees to work with us. Hell, not even then. Not until all the contracts are signed and he can’t back out.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Way to be optimistic and confident.”
There was too much at stake to rely on optimism. “I was optimistic and confident before our dinner meeting and look how that turned out.”
“Come on, man,” Fliss said, jiggling his arm. “There’s no way he can reject us now. We learned from our mistakes and now have something way cooler to hit him over the head with.”
“Feeling violent, huh?” His eyebrows lifted.
“Okay, I know you’re feeling better if you’re maki
ng corny jokes.”
Alex laughed. He was feeling better, the worry and uncertainty that had been his constant companions since the dinner with Mansfield fading away in the face of Fliss’s never-ending optimism. He swung an arm around her shoulders and again ordered himself to ignore how her body curved into his side like they were two perfect halves of a whole. The only way they would fit better was if their clothes disappeared. But no, he couldn’t go there. Because they were just friends. Although it was becoming harder and harder to remember why. “Come on. Let’s go.”
As they strolled down the street, he realized he was even feeling better about being back in the neighborhood he’d grown up in. Fliss had asked to see the area, and, wonder of wonders, he hadn’t objected. He’d been too curious to see what had changed and what hadn’t.
He’d made a damn good life for himself in California and never had much calling him back to Philadelphia, especially after Keith’s parents had retired to Arizona. He’d assumed his return would be awkward, that all the bad memories would come back and overwhelm him, but they hadn’t.
He smiled when he spotted the convenience store up ahead. He used to stop in every day after school for a candy bar. After a while, the owner started leaving it on the counter for him.
Other fond memories came to him. The sounds of TVs and radios coming through open windows, people hanging out on their front stoops gossiping. Girls giggling as they walked down the sidewalk. He’d forgotten the good times he’d had here in his attempts to banish the bad memories. But there had been good times. It was past time he remembered them. Contentment settled over his shoulders.
“It’s a nice night,” Fliss said.
It was. A cool breeze slid through the air. As they approached the street corner, he sped up. “Let me show you something.”
They crossed the street and cut through a park until Alex stopped at a basketball court in the center of the park. The paint on the goals and posts had long since chipped away. Cracks in the cement attested to the court’s longevity. Still, a thrill raced through him at the sight of his former hangout spot. “I used to play ball here all the time.”
“So this is the place where you became a street ball champion.”
“I wouldn’t say champion…”
“Except you totally would.”
They laughed, their undeniable natural chemistry relaxing him even more. How much had changed in one week. How it had started to change that night almost two months ago.
“We make a good team,” Fliss said.
They did. As much as he’d been opposed to her joining Crescendo, he wouldn’t be anywhere close to securing the Farrah project without her. Today wouldn’t have happened without her. He’d always thought that if he accepted help, then it wouldn’t count or feel as good. But sharing today, this project with Fliss, felt natural. Right.
It was his turn to step in front of her. “Thank you.”
Her head tilted to the side. “For what?”
“For being you.”
A smile spread across her gorgeous face. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time.”
“My pleasure.” Neither looked away. The moment stretched. Desire thrummed through his veins. “Fliss.”
She looked away first. “I think we’re getting a handle on this friend thing.”
Friends. Right. He stepped away and forced a chuckle. “Yeah, we are.”
They meandered through the park which had seen better days. But the pride of the community was here, too. The equipment—swings, monkey bars, a few slides—was old, but it was clean and well-tended to. No litter marred the ground.
The stench of cheap booze reached Alex first. He looked up. A man, unsteady on his feet, stumbled toward them. Although the temperature was in the mid-seventies, he wore a beat-up, drab, olive-green coat covered in stains of indeterminate origins. A green Eagles cap, frayed at the edges, obscured his face. Alex put his arm at Fliss’s waist to steer her around him.
The man reached out a hand toward Fliss. Alex twisted to put his body in between the man and Fliss. “Excuse me,” he said and kept walking.
“Hey, no need to apologize.”
Alex halted, positive his ears were deceiving him. Hoping they were.
“That’s right,” the man slurred. “Recognize me now?” He ambled closer. “I heard you were back in town. Had to see for myself. You always liked this park, so I tried here first. Your old man’s still pretty smart, huh?”
He stepped into a pool of light provided by a streetlamp. Alex looked at his father for the first time in over a decade, since he’d left for California determined to leave his hard life far behind. He hadn’t missed him. Actually, he’d stopped missing him long before then, when he was a boy living with an alcoholic father who got mean when he got drunk.
David Graham had once possessed an imposing figure, but the years hadn’t been kind to him. The alcohol abuse had started savaging him long ago and continued to do its damage. Bloodshot eyes, sunken cheeks, a scraggly, gray beard in desperate need of a trim, a scrawny figure bowed by too much alcohol and not enough food.
Still, Alex saw himself in the other man. David used to brag about how Alex was a chip off the old block, at least until the alcohol became his main reason for living. Then his son became the enemy, an annoyance, someone who required things that cost money, like food and clothes. Money that couldn’t be used for liquor.
“We need to go.” Again he tried to steer Fliss around David, but the other man displayed a surprising amount of dexterity and blocked their path.
“Where you running off to, son? Don’t you want to introduce me to your lady friend? You’re not ashamed of me, are you?”
Fliss looked up at him, her eyes full of questions he didn’t want to answer. This was why he hadn’t wanted her to come with him on this trip. The possibility had always existed that she’d be exposed to the ugliness that had dominated his youth. He hated to see the look of pity on her face.
What a fool he’d been to think he could get out of here unscathed.
Everyone in the neighborhood knew everybody else. He should’ve been prepared to face his father again, but he’d been lulled into a false sense of security. Now he was facing his worst nightmare—the man who’d made his childhood a living hell.
“I don’t have anything to say to you.” He tried to step around him, but again David blocked his path. Alex jerked back before he bumped into him.
His father wiped a grimy hand across his face. “Well, I’ve got a few things to say to you.”
“I don’t have to listen to you.” This time he managed to get Fliss and himself around David.
“Yeah, run away.”
That stopped Alex in his tracks. He spun on his heel. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. You ran away all those years ago although I fed you, clothed you, put a roof over your head.”
Alex’s mouth dropped open. “Are you crazy? I went hungry more nights than any kid ever should. I didn’t have new clothes for over two years.”
With obvious difficulty, David straightened his figure. “Hey, you watch who you’re talking to, boy. You were always an ungrateful kid. Just like your mother. You wouldn’t have had a bed if it wasn’t for me. I worked.”
“You’re out of your mind.” All the anger he’d kept bottled up for years came spilling out in a heated rush. “You have to be with all the rewriting of history you’re doing. My mother was a great wife to you, better than you deserved. But she died. You couldn’t handle it, never mind that you had a son scared and confused about why his mom didn’t come home from the hospital and who didn’t know what a brain aneurysm was. You couldn’t keep a job because you went in drunk all the time, so you came home and drank some more and took your anger and frustration out on me. And that’s when I saw you. You would disappear for days at a time, then come back like nothing had happened.”
David’s haggard face screwed up in indignant denial. “You wouldn’t be aliv
e if it wasn’t for me.”
“No matter that you felt the need to hit me whenever the mood struck.”
Behind him, Fliss gasped. Alex didn’t look at her. He didn’t dare. The pity would be too much for him to handle.
David sniffed. “You needed discipline, always smart-talking me, thinking you were better than everyone else, especially after you started hanging around that kid. What was his name again?”
“Keith. My best friend,” Alex spat out.
“That boy always thought he was better than everybody else because his parents had some money.”
“His parents didn’t have money. They took pride in working and doing the best they could for their family and setting a good example.”
“So? I let you go over there, didn’t I?”
“You were drunk half the time and had no clue what I was doing!”
“I know you were always weak, worthless, running to him scared because you never could do anything for or by yourself.”
The accusations lashed at Alex. The same words his father used to hurl at him when he went into a drunken rampage. But he wasn’t a boy anymore and refused to give his father what he wanted—a reaction. He held his ground. He would not flinch.
David sneered anyway. “Now you have this lady hanging on your arm. Don’t think I didn’t recognize her. Did you run to her for help, too?” He sniffed. “Of course you did.”
Alex couldn’t stop his hands from balling into fists until his nails dug into his palms.
“People ask why my son doesn’t help me out. You know what I tell them? I don’t need help. I definitely don’t take money from someone who couldn’t earn it on his own.”
Again the accusations lashed at him. But he wasn’t afraid of his father anymore. Those feelings had faded away long ago, replaced with loathing and regret for a relationship that would never be. Working hard to control the anger pulsing through his veins, Alex stepped forward and peered directly into David’s bloodshot eyes. “Today is your lucky day then because I get to tell you face to face that you’ll never get a dime from me. I haven’t talked to you in over a dozen years, and now I remember why. I never want to hear from you again. If you see me coming, turn and walk the other way. We’re done.”
