Queen of the Universe (In Love in the Limelight Book 2)

by Geralyn Corcillo

Ray's eyes seemed to light up as he nodded.

  “Palm Leaf Beauty?”

  “What are you?” Ray burst out. “CIA?”

  “Are you?” Arlen shot back before he tore down the stairs.

  Chapter 47

  LOLA

  The rain really starts sluicing sheets across the windshield as I wind my way up Forest Lawn. Darkness seems to have fallen early in Los Angeles tonight with all the storm clouds turning the evening inkier than it should be.

  The unrelenting stampede of rain on the roof does nothing to quell my jumpy nerves. What if Jon doesn't send the kids? Would siccing Wendy on him be enough to change his mind? Or should I arrange some sort of hit to take him out?

  Damn!

  And I know there are tons of people out there who would think that Jon wasn't that bad and he did the right thing three years ago—the only thing he could do. He finally stepped up and realized it was time for him to be a dad and take back his kids. And I can see the dramatic imperative of such a storyline. But damn it all to New Jersey and back! Doesn't love count for anything? It should count for everything and trump every other argument. Love should especially crush something as coincidental as biology. Arlen had LOVED those kids—still loved them—when he had no reason to. No obligation to. And because of all the love he felt, he'd made them happy and healthy for six years. And then he'd lost it all. Tragedy took Rachel. Then Jon came and took the rest.

  Tears slide unchecked down my face. Arlen helped me because of how much he had lost. That Saturday morning when I'd gone to his house, I asked him if he knew what it was like to want something so badly, yet your fate was in the hands of someone else. And nobody understood.

  When Arlen fell for Rachel and the kids, everybody must have thought he was nuts. I do the math quickly in my head. Arlen would have been a kid right out of college when he took on a divorcée and her three abandoned children. Everyone in his life must have discouraged him from settling down to a station wagon and school plays when he was barely old enough to drink legally. And when he lost them … I swipe the tears from my eyes. He must have been so alone. Everyone must have figured he could get back to the upwardly mobile life to which every handsome young Ivy League grad is entitled.

  But Arlen had completely fallen apart.

  Is he helping me in an attempt to salvage the tatters of his own life? I hope so. I hope I can give him that at least.

  I feel the weight of it all, like some ancient Greek curse. From the beginning, I knew there was a bleakness, a sense of loss about Arlen. But all I chose to focus on was how perfect all that shaded misery would be when he played Sam. I never thought about Arlen. But now I think about Arlen all the time.

  Damn Jon! That bastard better be sending the kids. He better!

  I drive through my gate into the sloshy drive, trying to peer through the smeary windshield. I am practically vibrating with a desperate need to get to a computer to start arranging battalions in case I need to wage war with Jon.

  “Ahhhh!” I slam on the brakes and the Tesla goes sliding all over the place in the mud.

  A tree's down across the drive.

  Damn! I love that dogwood!

  I sit staring through the wiper blades. I can't even drive around it because of all the shrubbery lining the drive. What if I ran over a nest of rabbits or something? I don't want to hurt any bunnies or mice or raccoons or anything hiding out from the storm.

  I am going to have to make a mad dash for it.

  I look down at my feet. These deadly heels cost hundreds of freaking dollars. But it's not like they would be much help in the mud, anyway. Sighing, I kick off my shoes and set them gingerly on the passenger seat. Then I realize that the stockings will get torn off in a matter of seconds as I climb through the brush, so I slide off each stocking, one at a time, then drape them across the seat next to the shoes. I'm taking my time but the rain isn't letting up.

  I sit in the front seat, gulping down deep breaths. I feel like I'm about to dive into a really cold pool, but I know this will be worse. Because diving into a pool doesn't hurt your feet. I look down at my kick-ass suit and sigh regretfully.

  Wait. I really should take that off, too. And the underwear is silk, so … off it all comes.

  Once I'm completely naked, I grab my cell phone and keys. “Okay.” I take another deep breath. “One, two ...” My fingers grip the door handle. “Three!”

  I leap out of the car. I'm instantly drenched, but I remember to turn back to the car and bleep it locked. Then I start to pick my way through the bushes, trying to skirt the fallen tree.

  “Ow! Damn it!” I whack branches out of my way with swipes of my arm. “Hi-yaaa!”

  I finally manage to get past the fallen tree and make it back to the driveway. I start running, willing myself to ignore all the rocks and pebbles on the dirt-turned-to mud drive. At least the mud is all squishy and feels okay oozing between my toes. About half way to the house, I fall down. But hey, at least I manage to catch myself in an almost push-up-like position before I face-plant in the ooze. As I stand up, I feel the rain pelting off some of my mud-coating as I run.

  When I get to the house, I rush up to the door, key already in my hand and ready to go. Within seconds, I unlock the door, burst into my front hallway, and slam the door behind me.

  “Jesus!” I lean my back against the door, closing my eyes as I huff and puff and try to catch my breath. But I'm freezing and I need a blanket so I open my eyes.

  “Arlen!”

  Chapter 48

  LOLA

  Arlen's standing there, right in front of me. In my house. AND I'M TOTALLY NAKED.

  I take a short, calming, in-control breath and push myself off the door. I'll just pretend I'm not in the buff. I stand up straight and clear my throat. “Arlen,” I say.

  Arlen stares at me, not moving a muscle. “Hi, Lola.”

  I let my hands fly to my face. “Oh, God. I must look a wreck. The rain must have my make-up running all down my face.”

  “Not really looking at your face.”

  But I notice that my face is exactly where he looks as he says this.

  “Excuse me for one sec,” I say. And I walk, don't run, to the small bathroom just off the hallway. I shut, don't slam, myself inside. No big bath towels in here. Just hand towels. Okay.

  I don't allow myself to think of a thing except soap and water as I wash my face. When I turn off the tap, I hear a sharp rap at the door. The door opens a crack and my heart starts hammering. But then the champagne throw from the couch appears through the narrow space and drops to the floor. The door shuts quietly. “Thanks!” I call.

  “You're welcome.”

  I soak a towel with warm water and wipe off my muddy and scratched upper arms and legs. Then I dry myself off with a few other hand towels. I work methodically, trying not to consider what it means that ARLEN IS IN MY HOUSE. Is he here with bad news or good news? I take a deep breath and wrap the throw around me in a somewhat toga-esque style. I reach out to the door handle and grip it hard, trying to squeeze out the tremors from my hand.

  Did Jon buckle and agree to send the kids? Or did he push back with more nastiness?

  I open the door and step toward Arlen, my heart beating with frantic hysteria. “Why are you here?” I ask, the desperation painfully raw in my voice.

  Arlen steps toward me. “He called.”

  “What did he say?”

  “What did you say, Lola? How did you manage it?”

  “Manage what? Have I made things even worse?”

  Arlen's eyes get huge. “No! Lola, you fixed it.”

  My knees actually buckle and Arlen catches me under the elbows.

  “The kids are coming as planned,” he says as he steadies me.

  I look at him, my mouth hanging open. Then it all clicks into place and I launch myself at him. “YES!” I hug him with all my might. “Yes.”

  Arlen holds me tight and I'm glad because I think I just might sink to the floor if he lets me go. �
�I can't believe it worked,” I gasp.

  Arlen pulls his head back and looks at me. “Did you have sex with him?”

  I don't break eye contact. “No,” I say matter-of-factly. “I threatened him.” I bite my lip. “Blackmailed him, really. Ray helped me get the intel to do it.”

  “You flew up to Washington today and blackmailed Jon so the kids could come?”

  “Yes.”

  Arlen swallows. “Why?”

  “That monster had no right to take them from you. Not three years ago, and not now.”

  Arlen pulls me back into the boa-like hug and I hold on.

  “Lola,” he says quietly. “Thank you.”

  I stay right where I am, wrapped in his arms. “You're—” But my voice catches and hot tears spill down my cheeks.

  Arlen pulls back and looks at me, his dark eyes filled with such … such tortured wonder. He brushes away my tears with his thumb. “Lola ...”

  I shake my head. “Don't look at me like that. I'm sorry Arlen. So sorry. For everything he did to you. For all you lost. For how I used it. I didn't know. I swear, I never had a clue.”

  “I know.”

  “And I wouldn't listen. You tried to warn me off. But I wouldn't listen.”

  Arlen tries to bite down on a smile. “I know that, too.”

  “You were telling me to leave you alone. I should have stayed away, Arlen. I should have stayed away.”

  “No,” he says, pulling me closer. “Not that. Never that.”

  My wet eyes lock with his. “Yes, I ...”

  “Lola, you kept coming at me. And I didn't just walk away. I couldn't walk away from you. I just wanted more.” He pulls me into him.

  His lips sink into mine, and I kiss him back, twining my arms around him and arching into him. I bite at him, nip, suck. I can't get enough. I just want to drink in all of Arlen. His hands grip my ass through the blanket, pulling me into him. I clench my fingers into his hips to steady myself as I cry out for more.

  Arlen pulls me backwards with him, into the living room. I think we're heading for the couch. As we're working our way across the carpet, he reaches up to run his hand through my hair, cupping the back of my head.

  My blanket falls to the floor and then Arlen's hands are all over me, scorching all across my skin. Oh, God ...

  This time when I slide helplessly to the floor, I salvage one last scrap of sense and pull him down with me. I'm trying to say his name—all I can think, feel, remember is Arlen. But all I can manage is gasps and cries of desperation as he kisses and bites and mauls what feels like every inch of me. I claw off his T shirt then slide my hands down into the waistband of his jeans, unsnapping and unzipping him with lightning speed. I push down his clothes as far as I can reach, then I rock back and bend my knees, my inner thighs sliding along his ribs. I straighten my legs and push down his jeans and boxers with my feet until it all hits his shoes.

  In a blink he's off me and twisting around to kick off his sneakers and whip off all his clothes. But even for that second I can't stand to be away from his heat. I lean up, my arms circling him as I press against his back and bite his shoulder.

  When at last he's completely naked, he turns back to me, his look melting right into me. “Lola,” he rasps. “Jesus, Lola.” He's breathing hard.

  “Ah-Arlen,” I pant.

  He kisses me, all wet and hungry. We tangle together like something out of the Kama Sutra as we just try to get more and more and closer and closer. Taking him with me, I lay back and stretch out.

  “Wait.” He pulls back just enough to look in my face. “We need—”

  “It's okay,” I gasp. I try to breathe and swallow. “I won't get pregnant. And I'm not sick.” I've barely whispered the words and Arlen is on me. I snake my legs around him and I'm lost. No, not lost.

  Transported.

  Chapter 49

  LOLA

  “Mmmmm...” I sigh.

  Arlen runs his fingers along my back as I lie on my living room floor, feeling like seaweed washed up onto shore. Or like something so much more exhausted, like a shipwreck victim. Except there is nothing at all victimized about me right now. No, I feel positively wonderful. Arlen completely swept me away. For the first time in my life, I didn't actually think about the sex while it was happening—it just happened.

  My eyes are still closed as Arlen moves his hand up to play with the ends of my hair, brushing his fingers ever so lightly against the back of my neck. I shiver.

  “Cold?” he asks, moving closer and kissing my shoulder.

  “No,” I say, opening my eyes and looking at him. “Did you turn on the heat when you got here?”

  “I did,” he confesses. “I was wet and I figured you would be, too, when you got back. By the way,” he says, “why did you come crashing through the door completely naked?”

  “You complaining?”

  He chuckles. “Right.”

  I close my eyes and sigh. “A tree came down across the drive, so I had to run for it. But I was wearing a really good suit and shoes and silk underwear and I didn't want to ruin any of it. So I left all my clothes in the car. I didn't think you would be here.”

  “You complaining?”

  I smile. “Right.”

  Arlen laughs. “As soon as Jon called I headed here. I had no idea what you'd done or how you'd done it, but I had to see you. And I was too jumpy to wait in the truck. And I have your keys, so here I am.”

  “Here you are,” I agree, turning toward him and nestling into him. Nestling into Arlen.

  I kiss him. And kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. Maybe a few heavenly days of this, before the kids arrive, before production begins. Just a tiny, secret pocket of time when we can just be like this. I'm kissing his ear when I pause to whisper to him. “When do the kids get here?”

  Arlen doesn't even stop biting my neck. “First it'll just be Matteo and Ella. Rachel's mom Pam will be flying down with them. But Katie was so mad when Jon cancelled the trip that he let her fly off to join her friend Mary Lou in France. Katie gets here in a few weeks.”

  “And Matteo and Ella?”

  “Oh. They arrive in Burbank tomorrow at eleven in the morning. Jon hadn't canceled the original tickets yet.”

  I get all cold inside as the words sink in.

  Tomorrow.

  Jesus, why the hell did I think we had any time? I turn away from him, pulling his arms around me as I slide back up against him. “Mmmm...” I hum, not knowing if my voice will work.

  Arlen kisses my ear. “And you start assembling the writing staff tomorrow, right?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” And I nod.

  A hot tear leaks out of my eye, but it drips across the bridge of my nose and down into the carpet. Arlen can't see it and I don't make a sound as I try not to feel our time slipping away. The kids come tomorrow, and by the time they all go back to Tacoma, production will be well underway. My window with Arlen slams shut after tonight.

  “Hey,” Arlen whispers, and turns me to face him.

  And I look at him with my stupid wet face. “I just don't want tonight to end,” I whisper.

  All those weeks ago, on the day I met Arlen, I'd decided honesty would be a good ploy with him. And now, when I'm with him, honesty just seems to come gushing out of me unbidden. Damn.

  He kisses away my tears. “I know,” he says. Then he pulls away from me.

  When he reaches for his jeans I feel my heart thunk like a gutter ball. He's leaving.

  But Arlen tugs his cell phone out of the pocket then tosses the jeans aside. He's back at my side in a flash and I can breathe again. “It's almost ten,” he says. “I have to leave by seven. So until then ...” He pulls me close.

  “Arlen,” I whisper, wrapping myself around him.

  “Wait,” he says softly. “Let's go upstairs.”

  Chapter 50

  ARLEN

  Arlen stretched out in Lola's bed, watching her sleep as rain pounded on the roof. He rolled over and looked at the ceilin
g, trying to get his heart to stop thudding. Why did she have to fall apart like that? It wasn't much of a meltdown, as far as women go, but for Lola? To cry and apologize? And to tear up as he held her? That was so huge for the always-needs-to-think-she's-in-control Queen of the Universe.

  What was happening to his life? What had Lola done to him? Everything was cracking open and all this light was blasting through. And it was Lola on the other side, knocking down all the stony walls around him. But once she broke through, or even snuck through a crack, what could they do about it after tonight? He was poison to her career and he knew it. If they could just wait a few months, to see how the show was doing, then maybe—

  But wait? For Lola? When they had to work together every day?

  He turned to her and reached out his hand, brushing it lightly across her cheek. Her eyes opened and she gave him a sleepy smile.

  And just like that, he was on her. He took her in his arms and kissed her until he couldn't breathe, and she was kissing him back. The sensation of her skin against his, her lips on him, the unbearable bliss of sliding inside her—all of it swept away the whispery feeling that tonight would be the only night they had.

  Chapter 51

  LOLA

  I feel the bed sink down next to me as something grazes my shoulder. I open my eyes in the pale sunshine. “Arlen,” I say, biting my lip to tamp down the unstoppable grin I feel about to break across my face.

  But the next second my brain kicks in and I'm jerking awake. “Arlen? You're dressed. Is it time to go? I need to get my clothes on.” I try to work my way out from under the tangled sheets and my messed-up comforter. “I have to help you move the tree.”

  Arlen puts his arms around me, mass of blankets and all, and kisses the top of my head. “Chill. I already moved it.”

  I pull back from him slowly, taking in the mud spattered on his clothes. My mouth goes dry. Arlen is ready to leave. Arlen is leaving.

  I try to swallow. “But I'm not ...”