by Susan Lewis
‘You’re kidding me,’ Lizzy responded in amazement. ‘But how did Max know?’
‘He’d been having me checked out,’ Rhiannon answered. ‘As a friend of Galina’s, and a journalist, I apparently had to be vetted, so obviously he discovered that I was seeing Oliver, and because of Oliver’s connection to the Straussens he guessed there was a chance I might end up in some kind of trouble, so he sent someone in, enter Ramon, to keep an eye on it all.’
‘I don’t believe it!’ Lizzy cried. ‘Is the man some kind of control freak, or something? And why would he care what happened to you? I mean, to go to all that trouble when he doesn’t even know you.’
‘But Galina knows me and as Galina’s friend I qualify for his protection. Or that’s the way I read it,’ Rhiannon replied. ‘More or less, anyway.’
‘So where did you say Ramon was now?’
‘I’m not sure. He said something about having some business to attend to in the South, but I imagine he’ll be back by the weekend.’
‘And Max? Where’s he?’
Rhiannon’s heart turned over. ‘As far as I know he’s here in LA,’ she answered. ‘I haven’t seen or spoken to him since Saturday when he made me feel . . . like something nasty the sea had washed up. God, if you’d heard the way he spoke to me, Lizzy. I’m not going to repeat it because I don’t think I could survive the shame a second time round. Anyway, what it left me in no doubt of was that he loathes journalists with an almost pathological frenzy and Susan Posner’s up there at the top of his list. Do you remember her? She did some background stuff for us on some actor a couple of years ago?’
‘Vaguely,’ Lizzy answered.
‘Well, for whatever reason she’s very definitely Max Romanov’s bête noire, so naturally I tried calling her to find out why. She’s in Seattle at the moment, back tomorrow I’m told, so hopefully she’ll return my call.’
‘What do you expect to find out?’
Rhiannon shrugged. ‘I’m not sure really. Anyway, getting back to Galina, I’d forgotten how odd she can be at times. I mean, I probably didn’t notice it too much before; you don’t when you grow up with someone, do you? I mean, they’re just the way they are and you accept them for that. But when you haven’t seen someone for a while their quirks and foibles and eccentricities become much more noticeable. At least hers seem to have. It’s either that, or she’s getting worse.’
‘What do you mean, worse?’ Lizzy said.
‘I don’t know. Worse in the sense that you never seem able to pin her down. She makes me think of a dandelion, floating around without a care in the world, looking drop-dead beautiful and ecstatically happy with her life, but if you gave her one quick puff she’d break into a thousand pieces. Except, like I said, she seems really happy, so I don’t understand what’s making me say that. Max obviously adores her and she loves being ruled by him, or so she says, and her relationship with his kids is quite wonderful to see. Add to that her new-found fame and fortune and you’ve got . . . Well, I don’t know what you’ve got, but it certainly isn’t what you’d expect. Something’s going on behind the scenes somewhere, I’m sure of it and what’s more, I get the distinct impression that everyone in that house knows what it is and are all, to one degree or another, involved in keeping it covered up.’
‘And you think Susan Posner might know what it is?’
Rhiannon shrugged. ‘She might.’
‘What’s your guess? I mean, you must have some kind of theory on it by now.’
Rhiannon was shaking her head. ‘That’s the strange thing, I don’t. I mean, there’s nothing to put your finger on. Nothing at all that you could pin it to and say that’s what they’re doing, or that’s what the problem might be. Their performances are flawless, yet somehow you know they’re acting.’
‘Well, it all sounds very intriguing to me. A bit Stephen King-ish in fact. You’ll have to let me know what you find out from Susan. Anyway, what about LA? What do you think of the place itself?’
Rhiannon smiled, as a pleasing lift coasted around her heart. ‘Actually, I love it,’ she answered. ‘Obviously, I haven’t seen much of it yet, but the buzz you get here, Liz, is like, well it’s like a drug. The adrenalin really gets going around these people. They’re electrifying. They’re all about showbiz and you just can’t help being swept along by it. I mean, it’s terrible really, because you lose your perspective on the outside world totally, at least I have. It’s like everything happens here, so who the hell needs the rest of the world? Their lives are movies, their nourishment is megabucks and their fantasies are a daily reality. It’s fascinating, seductive and so unbelievably stimulating that the thought of returning to London is too depressing for words. Especially now you’re not going to be there. Sorry, I didn’t mean that,’ she said hastily. ‘I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, I’m just saying that I don’t feel like there’s much of a reason to go back.’
‘It’s OK, I understand,’ Lizzy smiled. ‘So why don’t you stay?’
Rhiannon laughed. ‘Believe it or not, I’ve been thinking about it. The trouble is I don’t think there’s much chance of me getting a green card.’
‘You never know unless you try,’ Lizzy responded. ‘What would you do if you did get one?’
Rhiannon sighed. ‘God knows. The kind of TV I do is mainly New York and Washington based. Here it’s more mini-series and movies. And it’s hot! It’s been over a hundred degrees today. What’s it like there?’
Lizzy said, ‘Hot, but not that hot. Did you find out where Max and Galina are going on their honeymoon, by the way?’
‘Not yet, no. Honestly, I’ve hardly spoken to anyone about the wedding. In fact I’m beginning to wonder if it isn’t all some kind of hoax. Well, I guess we’ll find out on Saturday.’ She looked up as someone knocked on the door. ‘That’s odd,’ she said, frowning. ‘No one’s supposed to be able to get up here without coming through security.’
‘What? What are you talking about?’
‘Someone’s at the door,’ Rhiannon explained, getting to her feet. The unsettling feeling she’d had the first night she’d arrived was suddenly stealing over her again.
‘It’s probably a security guard,’ Lizzy told her, seeming to sense her unease. ‘Go and see who it is and if you don’t come back straight away I’ll panic.’
‘So helpful,’ Rhiannon said in a whisper, as whoever it was knocked again. Then telling Lizzy not to go away, she dropped the receiver on the sofa and went to put her eye to the security scan. When she saw who was in the hall outside her heart leapt to her throat and taking a quick step back she pushed a hand to her mouth as the rest of her started to shake. Then taking a deep breath and willing herself to remain calm, she picked up the keys, slid them into the lock and pulled the door open.
Max’s eyebrows were raised, his dark eyes were both knowing and curious as he looked at her, as though, she thought, he had guessed what confusion his arrival would cause.
‘Hi,’ she smiled.
‘I hope I’m not disturbing you,’ he said. ‘I tried calling from the car, but the line was busy.’
‘Uh, yes,’ Rhiannon said, stepping aside to allow him to pass. ‘I was speaking to . . . a friend. If you’ll excuse me a moment I’ll just finish the call.’
Waving her towards the phone, he went to stand at the window and looked out at the dusk-shrouded marina.
Watching him as he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, Rhiannon could feel the breath locking in her lungs. Then quickly picking up the phone, she put it to her ear.
‘Rhiannon? Are you there?’ Lizzy was calling.
‘Yes, I’m here,’ Rhiannon answered, turning away from Max.
‘Who was it?’ Lizzy asked. ‘I heard voices. Have they gone now?’
‘No,’ Rhiannon said. ‘I have to go,’ she added, barely able to hear herself through the thudding of her heart.
‘Don’t you dare go now,’ Lizzy cried. ‘You sound very peculiar. Who is it, Rhiannon? Wh
o’s there with you?’
Rhiannon glanced back over her shoulder. Max was still standing at the window, gazing out at the yachts in the harbour.
‘Rhiannon?’
‘I have to go,’ Rhiannon repeated. ‘Everything’s OK. It’s only Max.’ Strangely, as soon as she said the words she seemed to relax and smiling as he turned to look at her, she told Lizzy she’d speak to her again soon and ended the call.
Putting the phone down, she turned to face him. The apartment was very quiet and no sound drifted through from outside. There was no antagonism now, Rhiannon realized as they looked at each other, quite the reverse in fact, for his dark eyes were softening as his mouth curved at the corner, and in response she felt the smile fade from her lips. The desire burning between her legs was like nothing she had ever known before and had it not been happening to her she would never have believed it possible just to look at a man and feel the way she was feeling now. Quickly she averted her eyes, but her cheeks were already stained with colour.
‘I owe you an apology,’ he said.
Rhiannon nodded and made herself look at him again. What is it about him, she was asking herself. Why is he doing this to me? Does he even know he’s doing it?
‘The way I spoke to you on Saturday was inexcusable,’ he said. ‘But I hope not unforgivable.’
Rhiannon’s eyes searched his face. She was aware of the way her nipples had hardened, making themselves visible through the T-shirt she was wearing, and wondered if he had noticed them too. For some reason she wasn’t embarrassed and as he smiled she felt herself smiling too.
‘It was unforgivable,’ she told him. ‘But then so too were my intentions.’
His head went to one side as he looked at her and this time she knew he had noticed her breasts.
Touch them, she was silently imploring, please, just touch them.
He lifted his hand and looking down she saw that he was waiting to shake. Again her cheeks flooded with colour as, attempting to disguise her confusion with a laugh, she took his hand.
‘Shall we make a fresh start?’ he said.
‘Of course.’ She turned and waved a hand towards the drinks. ‘Can I get you something?’ she offered, amazed at how steady her voice sounded when she was in such turmoil.
He nodded. ‘Sure. I’ll take a Scotch. Did you speak to Galina today?’ he asked as she turned away.
‘No. Did you?’
‘Sure. She calls pretty regularly. Every couple of hours if she can.’
Rhiannon’s surprise showed as she looked back at him.
He smiled. ‘It’s a habit we fell into a long time ago,’ he explained. ‘She likes to know what I’m doing, I like to know what she’s doing.’
‘Water?’ Rhiannon said, pouring a generous measure of Scotch into a tumbler as she tried to adjust to the good humour and easy-going manner that were making him an entirely different man from the one she had met on Saturday.
‘I’ll take it neat,’ he answered. Then going to sit on the armchair facing the sofa, he stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. ‘So what have you been doing with yourself?’ he asked as she handed him his drink and, feeling slightly more in control of herself now, returned to the sofa.
‘Catching up with a few friends,’ she said. ‘Getting myself acquainted with the city and the car. Thank you for organizing the car, by the way, but I really must insist on paying for the rental myself.’
‘You must?’ he said, arching an eyebrow.
Rhiannon laughed. ‘I must,’ she repeated, knowing instinctively that he wasn’t going to argue, but that she’d never end up paying for it anyway.
‘Does the apartment suit you?’ he said.
She nodded and looked around. ‘It’s a beautiful apartment,’ she said.
Sucking in his bottom lip, he nodded and flicked his eyes towards the window. ‘You know you’d be welcome at the house,’ he said, looking back at her. ‘I hope that was made clear to you.’
‘It was by some,’ Rhiannon answered, her voice loaded with irony.
He grinned and laughing, Rhiannon felt herself responding to him again. Then remembering what Ula had said about the way he could turn on the charm, she felt herself deflate.
‘I get the impression something’s bothering you,’ he said.
Rhiannon’s heart hammered as the blood left her face. Dear God, was he really reading her mind?
‘Is it Maguire?’ he said.
Rhiannon stared at him, then laughing through her surprise she said, ‘No.’
‘Then what?’ he said.
She was still smiling. ‘Why do you think something’s bothering me?’ she asked.
‘You’re on edge,’ he told her. ‘Anyone can see that. Are you sure you’re comfortable here?’
Rhiannon frowned. ‘Shouldn’t I be?’ she countered.
He looked at her for some time, then finally he said, ‘I don’t like Galina being here and, to be frank, I don’t like you being here either.’
Rhiannon’s laugh was unsteady. ‘Why on earth not?’ she said. ‘There’s plenty of security downstairs. Assuming that’s what’s concerning you.’
‘Do you feel safe here?’ he asked.
She hesitated, then seeing no point in lying she said, ‘As a matter of fact, no. At least, not all the time. I can’t quite explain it, but it’s like . . .’ She looked at him, already embarrassed about what she was going to say. ‘It’s like somebody died here,’ she said. ‘Or something horrible happened.’
Again he sucked in his lips as he thought about her answer. Then taking another sip of Scotch he said, ‘I’m not aware that anyone ever died here.’ He was staring down into his glass and allowed several seconds to elapse before continuing. ‘Galina uses the apartment to get away from me,’ he said. ‘Or so she says.’
‘Does that upset you?’
‘No. What upsets me is what she does here.’
Rhiannon stared at him, at a loss what to say next.
‘She entertains other men here,’ he said.
Rhiannon took a breath. ‘If you know that then why do you allow it to continue?’ she said.
He smiled, then sitting forward to put his glass on the table, he said, ‘Can I take you to dinner? I could use some company and . . .’ He shrugged. ‘I could just use some company.’
Surprised and touched that he should confess to anything even remotely approaching a weakness, she said, with a calm that amazed and impressed her, ‘I’ll have to cancel my other arrangements first, if you don’t mind waiting.’
Half an hour later they were seated at a window table in a far corner of the chic and spacious Café del Rey, a mile or so down the road from Galina’s apartment. It was populated, as usual, by LA’s young executives with their smart striped shirts, Armani jeans and mobile phones.
Max’s eyes were on Rhiannon as she dealt with the muted excitement and curiosity their arrival had evoked.
‘Do you mind all this attention?’ she asked, meeting a few unabashed stares and finding herself the first to look away.
‘Yes,’ he answered.
She looked at him. ‘But there’s nothing you can do about it?’
He shook his head, then seemed suddenly concerned. ‘Does it bother you?’ he said. ‘Would you rather go some place else?’
‘Is there anywhere you wouldn’t be recognized?’ she asked, not without irony. When he didn’t respond she said, ‘No, let’s stay here. They’ll get fed up in a minute.’
Looking up at the waitress as she began to hover with her notepad he winked at Rhiannon, then nodded for her to start reciting her spiel.
‘Hi, my name is Cindy, and I am your server tonight,’ she began, her pretty, girlish face singing hospitality as she focused her entire attention on Max. ‘Paul, our assistant manager, will be over directly to tell you about the specials we have tonight and if there’s anything on the menu you would like explained I’ll be happy to help out.’
Max glance
d at Rhiannon, whose eyes were reflecting the amusement in his. ‘OK, Cindy, bring us a bottle of chardonnay,’ he said, still looking at Rhiannon. Then turning to Cindy he said, ‘I don’t know what you have here . . . A Château St Jean?’ He pronounced ‘Jean’ the French way, then realizing that the waitress hadn’t understood he tried saying it like the woman’s name and got an immediate response.
‘Is it a Californian wine?’ Rhiannon laughed as the waitress left.
‘Yep.’ Reaching out for the pack of matches that was triangled on the corner of the table, he lit the candles between them. Rhiannon watched the movement of his hands, then lowered her eyes as she felt the scrutiny of those at nearby tables.
‘So, do you like Los Angeles?’ he said, tossing the matches into an ashtray. ‘What you’ve seen of it so far.’
‘Yes, actually I do,’ she answered.
‘You sound surprised,’ he commented. ‘Didn’t you expect to?’
‘No, I don’t think I did,’ she said truthfully. ‘At least, not so quickly. But everything’s always heightened when you’re on a short trip like this. Everyone wants to see you, catch up on the news at home, show off what their new lives are like . . . You know what I mean, I’m sure. What about you? Do you like it here?’
Sitting back as Cindy turned up with the wine, he inhaled deeply and said, ‘For me this is home, so I guess I never really think about whether I like it or not.’
Waiting until he had tasted the wine she said, ‘I imagine you know a lot of people here.’
He nodded, signalled Cindy to pour and said, ‘Probably more than I’d like to know.’ His eyes creased at the corners as he smiled. ‘Or maybe it’s the other way round. I don’t seem to have too many friends these days.’
Rhiannon’s eyes followed Cindy as, in her tight black pants and white shirt, she wiggled towards another table. ‘Do you feel let down by that?’ she said, turning back to Max.
