“We’re having a picnic, if you’d like to join us.”
“Nah. I don’t want to be a third wheel. Besides, you two don’t get enough time together alone. There’s always some family thing going on. And you’re always taking care of Debbie and the babies. So go have a good time today. The weather’s perfect for it. Thank God we’re gettin’ into the good weather here. I really do miss Beverly Hills.”
“Oh, Glori.”
She felt sorry for me. Time to change the subject. Plus, I love gossip.
“So what’s with Debbie? Why couldn’t she tell her own husband she’s pregnant? You know he found out from her doctor?”
“I know. Debbie called me this morning. David was really upset when he got home last night.”
“I bet. He looked like shit. He even passed out cold when he heard the news. Eduardo had to try and revive him.”
“Really? I can’t imagine David passing out over anything. Well, I guess Debbie managed to turn it around. She said he cracked up laughing when she told him she hoped he wasn’t angry at Cat.”
Cin giggled, but that cracked me up too. I had to pull the car over by a cow pasture. My sides hurt, I was laughing so hard. Debbie’s perspective on things was always unique, to put it nicely. Like just because Cat predicted they’d have six kids, it was all Cat’s fault. Like David could be mad at his cousin because he got his wife pregnant. He grew up with Cat—he knew all about the strange powers she has. Leave it to Debbie to worry about stuff like that.
I quit laughing in a hurry when I got a look at my mascara in the visor mirror. Cin’s voice reminded me it wasn’t the best time to go for my makeup bag.
“Glori? Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me, Cin. I’ll be fine. Look, I’ve got about a million calls to make. Joe left me like eighteen messages to call Diana Black in New York. I was so worked up over Alain that I never called her. And…” I pulled the car back onto the road with a spray of mud everywhere.
“Who’s Diana Black?”
“You know, she’s CEO of Uptown Cosmetics. Aubrey did some commercials for them last year. She said the money was fantastic, so I’m hoping she wants me to do some ads for them. Anyway, I’ll let you know.”
“That sounds great.”
“Yeah, so I’ll let you go. There’s a whole flock of cows up there in the road ahead. I don’t want to hit anything so I’m gonna sign off.”
“Flock?”
I heard her laughing as I clicked the phone off. Yeah, it was great being “home” again. There I was stopped dead in front of this pack of cows, meandering across the road. They’d never believe this in Beverly Hills.
***
I drew a bath and steeped myself for over an hour. It felt good to totally relax, finally. I had a lot to think about.
“Glori Coulson. Pop icon.” I could see my name in lights—I savored the feeling. So much was going on; I never did take the time to enjoy that feeling.
Everyone wanted me now. Fame. I finally had it. I’d craved it all my life. Of course, never in a million years would anyone think I’d be famous for singing. I can’t sing my way out of a paper bag.
Yeah, that was another one of Cat’s magical feats. She wrote the lyrics to a song about my life, my relationship with Alain—which existed for like five minutes before she wrote the song. She knew we’d be together before I did. Yeah, Cat does freak me out. She knew when I sang that song it would move people. And that it’d change my life. She knew it long before I did, I swear.
I may have an ordinary voice. But I do know how to work a room. I’m a pretty damn good actress. And I can dance as good as the best of them. That’s what clinched the deal. I was a better dancer than Aubrey Rose.
I inhaled the lavender of the bath oil. That was good stuff—really relaxing. Maybe I’d recommend it to Diana Black at Uptown Cosmetics. After all, if I did some ads for them, they should be open to some product recommendations.
Uptown Cosmetics, yeah, I wouldn’t mind being a spokesperson. For the right amount of money.
Chapter Three
Sunday afternoons the entire family always gathered at the home of Eduardo’s parents, Francisco and Camellia Clemente. I was happy to have the diversion—Alain was back at work again. And since Eduardo, David, and Jimmy were working too, Camellia was in a mood. She let it be known that working on a Sunday was not acceptable.
Francisco invited his son, Paulo, to entertain the family with his guitar. I sat in a cushioned chair on the terrace, comforted by the music and the warmth of the sun. We looked out over Camellia’s garden.
Debbie was painting a watercolor of the view. She wore a pretty pink dress—the color highlighted her pale skin and blue eyes. Baby fine platinum hair flew around her like a halo. She looked like something out of a watercolor palette herself.
I was surprised how fast she could work, and all the while she gave Cindy a running commentary. She described the garden as “just waking up to spring’s touch.” And she called the trees by the lake “lacy.” Cindy hung on every word, every brush stroke. She always told everyone Debbie was the little sister she always wanted.
And if it wasn’t for Cin, I don’t think Debbie would be alive today. She was the only one who ever paid any attention to her—until David came along.
I was just grateful her babies were napping. I was in no mood for noise today.
The watercolor complete, Cindy and everyone else gave their usual high praise. Debbie blushed her usual pink. Well, it was a great job, really. I don’t know anyone else who can paint like that. Her stuff is as good as you’d see in a museum.
Cindy pulled up a chair in front of me. The wind puffed her short gold hair around her face. She was a beautiful girl, but that’d be the last word Cin would use to describe herself. She was modest, and she honestly loved helping other people. Debbie had to be her biggest project. And I suppose, I was her second biggest project. Cin was my rock.
I guess it was because life was so good to her; she had this big need to “give back.” Her dad was the legendary actor, Bud Bainbridge, so she had everything she could ever want. But the most amazing thing was—her parents had a great marriage, despite all the Hollywood stuff that ruins most people. Yeah, Bud and Dottie Bainbridge had raised four great kids and stood the test of time. And then, Cin met and married her soul mate, Raphael. I know, I know—just like a fairy tale, huh?
Well into every fairy tale a little snag must fall. So even though Raphael built his princess a palace, it had to be in the wilds of Salzburg, Austria. Not that Cin minded, really. Nobody seemed to mind but me.
Cin had those all-American good looks—a champion swimmer’s body, naturally blonde hair and blue eyes. Her wardrobe was the definition of casual elegance.
“Are you okay? You look a little down today,” she said.
I sighed. I know I can be a little melodramatic. “Yeah.” I picked up my tousled hair and raked through a mass of waves with my nails. “I don’t know, Cin. I love Alain, I really do. I just don’t know about him sometimes.”
“You’re still peeved he didn’t call you.”
“Yeah. I found an empty bottle of rum in the trash. I didn’t drink it. He practically never drinks. Mr. Health-nut-martial-arts-hero. He’s the one that grabs the cigarette out of my mouth. He’s the one that’s always teasing me about drinking too many pina coladas.”
“Sounds like you two need to talk.”
“Yeah. Whenever I try to get into a serious conversation, we end up in bed.”
My manager, Joe Harris, came through the doorway. “Tell me I didn’t miss dinner.” The women laughed and assured him he would be fed. He grabbed some appetizers and took a seat by Cindy and me. Finishing his food, he removed a cigar from the pocket of his jacket, and used it to wave over Nita, Cat, and Paulo. The rest of the family drifted over.
Joe took on a businesslike tone. “Amanda James is coming back to town to interview you guys about the carload of Grammys you picked up. No doubt she�
�ll want to get into the personal stuff. So be prepared for more ‘life with the secret agents’ questions. And of course Paulo’s wedding coming up in August. She’s not gonna stop till she gets every detail.”
Joe inhaled the scent of his unlit cigar. Camellia never approved of the smoke. Joe would always have to content himself with the touch and smell of his Cuban cigars. It seemed to calm him almost as much as lighting up.
Joe frowned. “I do need to mention something to you guys.” He grabbed a magazine from his briefcase and tossed it to me. “Gossamer Magazine is coming out this week with a cover photo of Aubrey Rose and Tommy Cross at some Hollywood party.”
There was a collective gasp.
He said, “Yeah, I know Jimmy doesn’t know about it. But it’s great PR for Aubrey, as well as Cross. The tabloids are gonna go nuts. And I don’t know where she stands with Jimmy Hollinger, anyway. I don’t think they’re dating seriously. It’s not like they were thinking marriage or anything. They’re living on two different continents. So it probably won’t be any shock to him.”
Having flipped through his copy of the magazine, I flailed my arm to get Joe’s attention. “Excuse me? Won’t be any shock? I was there when he called her after he got back from whatever godforsaken country they saved this time. She’s crazy for the guy. I was with her for weeks. Did she ever—ever—say anything about Tommy Cross? No!”
“Glori. Doll, this is just a fling—a publicity thing. You’ve been in the business long enough to know ”
“Yeah, and I’ve lived long enough to know you don’t pull that stuff, and expect to go back to the way you were.” My eyes flooded with tears. “Shit. There goes the mascara.” I dropped the magazine and ran into the house.
***
Cindy found me in the bathroom. “Honey, are you okay?”
I dabbed the tears, careful to remove rings of running mascara from under my eyes. “I’m fine, Cin. Guess that whole thing struck a little close to home.”
With everything going on, I guess I was a little hyper. When I saw those pictures of Tommy Cross with Aubrey, I saw my father and the countless starlets he’d paraded in front of the press, year after year. It didn’t seem to matter to him he had a wife somewhere, and a daughter that was usually alone.
Cindy escorted me to the sitting room and sat beside me on the couch. “You really need to think about what you want out of life. I know you’ve always wanted to be a superstar. Ever since we were kids, you’ve focused on that. You’ve worked like a dog, too. All the acting classes, the dancing classes—and now singing…” We both laughed.
“Yeah, Cin, I know. I can’t sing to save my life. And I end up a rock star with Paulo Clemente. That’s a good one, huh?” I sniffed and wiped more mascara.
“But it wasn’t so long ago you told me how happy you are to finally have a family, people you can really rely on.”
“Yeah, family and fame. Why can’t I have both? Your dad does.” I decided there and then, somehow, I could have both. Never mind I was in love with a secret agent that wanted nothing to do with the limelight.
But then again, there was hope. Cat had told me I would have a baby someday. And Alain would be her father. And I knew I wanted to name her Christina. And I believed Cat was always right.
Debbie appeared with Freddy in her arms. She offered me the wriggling infant, and I nestled him in my lap. He really was kind of cute.
She took a seat across from us. “I feel so sorry for poor Jimmy.” Her eyes glistened. “I know how it feels.” Then I saw the teardrop on her cheek.
I started to jump up in panic—we couldn’t let Debbie cry. God only knows where that would end. Cindy grabbed my arm and kept me planted in the seat with Freddy tugging on my hair.
Debbie kept going like she was on her therapist’s couch. “When I saw how beautiful that lady Gwen is, well, I just thought David would want her back. I mean, she must have been very smart, too. She was a secret agent and all. But he wanted me. He loves me.”
I nodded furiously. “He loves you, honey. Only you.”
Debbie looked at me like I was nuts. “Yes, I know.”
“Cool. Feel the feelings.” I tried to stop nodding.
Cindy looked at me and laughed.
Freddy practically pulled out a handful of my hair. “Owwwwwwwwww.” The little devil was smiling. I handed him back to his mother.
Cindy intercepted and sat him in her lap. She couldn’t get enough of the little guy. He was still reaching for my hair. Debbie produced a small stuffed rattle, which he promptly dropped on the floor.
Cin reached for the toy. “We don’t know Aubrey as well as you do, Glori, but I think she is in love with Jimmy. At least she acts like it whenever I see them together. She’s just too immature to know how to handle her public life with her private life.”
Debbie nodded. “She needs to set boundaries.”
I confess—my jaw dropped. Debbie was turning normal. I never thought I’d see the day.
***
Monday morning the men assembled in the conference room. Alain was bone tired from working all weekend. Hollinger’s coffee did nothing to improve the situation.
The General strode through the door, all smiles. “I had a nice chat this morning with Amanda James. She’s going to be arriving in Salzburg the second week of June to interview your families and catch up on all their success at the Music Awards. Of course, she wants to speak with all of you, as well.”
Alain wiped his smirk away with his sleeve. Clearly, Pearson had a schoolboy’s crush on Amanda James. That was one journalist who knew how to manipulate people. Alain wondered what excuse he could use to bow out of that scene. Pearson was far too willing to accommodate the media since that incident with Lambrecht.
Pearson took his seat. “Clemente, you probably heard your parents invited her to stay at their home while she’s here. So I suppose she’ll be interviewing you out there. Camellia very nicely invited my wife and me to join all of you for dinner.” He winked. “That way I’ll be able to keep an eye on you during the interview.”
Hollinger grimaced. “Sir, are you expecting the four of us to be interviewed?”
“Of course. Not that you’ll have to say much. You’ve always been very effective at avoiding her questions about you and Aubrey Rose.”
“Yes, Sir.” Hollinger didn’t look pleased.
Pearson turned to face Lambrecht. “You look like hell today.”
“I’m fine, Sir.” He rubbed bloodshot eyes.
“Clemente?” Pearson imitated his impish grin.
Clemente chuckled. “Ya know… Lambrecht’s taken out some of the baddest guys on the planet. Single-handedly brought down terrorists… drug lords… you name it...”
Alain caught Hollinger’s eye, and the two broke into jeers. Lambrecht gave Clemente a threatening look.
Clemente slapped him on the back. “Superman brought to his knees by three tiny little babies! Who knew it’d be so easy to bring this guy down?”
Pearson’s booming laughter rose above them all. “As the proud grandfather of five, I must say, I completely understand.”
When Pearson composed himself, he addressed Lambrecht. “Perhaps it would be best if Amanda conducts the interviews at your home. That way you’ll be more comfortable, as relaxed as possible anyway.”
“Yes, Sir.” He did not look enthused. He had always been wary of the press, and with good reason.
But Debbie had developed somewhat of a friendship with Amanda James. The two had kept up a correspondence. Lambrecht had confided to them he was glad she was able to develop some new friends as she recovered from anorexia. It was good for her. Besides, if she ever decided to do more with her artwork, Amanda James would be a good contact to have.
***
When Pearson left the conference room, Lambrecht retrieved a large package from under the table. “This is bothering me, and I need to figure it out.” He unwrapped a stack of Debbie’s paintings.
Clemente writhed in his
seat. “David! Not another painting. I can’t take another clue. How does Debbie have time to paint anymore with three kids anyway?”
Lambrecht ignored him. “You’re aware of the ‘Lamp on a Stand’ series. Here are the previous two—you’ve already seen—and here is the latest. It’s getting worse, and I’m thinking this thing with Johnson isn’t over.”
“Shit!” Eduardo stared at Debbie’s latest creation. Alain and Jimmy rose from their seats to take a look over his shoulder.
There was the lamp on a desk, much the same as the previous two. The lamp was turned off, as in the previous painting. The single love letter that was the focal point of the second painting was open on the desk. The same metal wastebasket they’d found at Colonel Johnson’s villa was on its side, spilling the ashes of the many letters featured in the first painting. A large “Z” was superimposed on the scene, done in the same manner Debbie had used to create the vibrant light of the lamp in the first painting. And unlike the previous works, this one had a border, all done in the letter “Z.”
David’s cousin Cat seemed to be Debbie’s unwitting inspiration for these strange paintings. Cat had quoted some Bible verses about a lamp on a stand and everything being revealed. Debbie had been painting clues ever since.
Alain shook his head. “I know Z almost killed you and Debbie, but did she ever know his name?”
“No. Not unless Cat knew it and inspired this. Cat isn’t telling me much of anything lately.”
“Well it’s obvious she has the connection between Johnson and Z. Since they’re both dead now, I don’t know if we’ll ever know what that was.” Alain remembered the letter he’d found on Johnson’s desk. “Do you think Tamara Everett could shed some light on this?”
Eduardo chuckled. “I bet that pile of letters in the first painting—the ones he burned—that’s gotta be all from Tamara. How many letters can a fifteen year old write? They may have had a relationship that went on for years.”
In the Name of Glori (The Redemption Series: Book 3) Page 3
