by Noelle Adams
Blake had been annoyed at first that Caleb hadn’t offered to let her off at the front door, but her irritation turned to relief the moment she climbed off the bike. She wouldn’t have wanted her friends to see her right now, with her just-off-the-motorcycle stride, bow-legged and trembling. Not to mention the fact that her hair was still wrapped up in a scarf.
She walked back and forth, trying to regain her balance and some semblance of graceful motion. She hadn’t been so thankful to have her feet touch ground since the time she and Mira had gone skydiving to celebrate Mira’s eighteenth birthday. When she felt that she’d regained the ability to walk like a human being, she turned her attention to the other facets of her appearance. She released her hair from its scarf and fluffed it with her fingers as best she could. Then she fished a compact out of her purse and touched up her makeup. While she was at it, she checked her teeth for bugs.
Through all of this, Caleb stood patiently by, thumbs hooked in his front pockets. He looked like a statue, or some sort of sculpture. Greek God Meets Cowboy. Rodin would have cast him in bronze with his feet anamorphically bonded to the pavement.
She chuckled as she returned her compact to her purse, and tied the scarf to the back of the bike so it wouldn’t blow away while they were inside.
“What’s so funny?” Caleb asked mildly.
“You,” she said, “and me.” She crooked out an arm for him to take. “Come on. I can’t wait for my friends to get a look at us!”
The house was a mansion. There was no other word for it. Three stories tall, built of red brick with diamond-paned windows and a steeply sloping, many-gabled roof.
Blake handed her invitation to the discreet-looking young man with the polite smile who was standing in the foyer. “Good evening, Ms. Sera,” he murmured, before turning his attention to the next guest. Caleb’s nod in his direction received no acknowledgement beyond the slight flick of an eyelash. But the slight was easy to shrug off. In his situation it was preferable to fly under the radar, anyway.
He trailed after her through the long rooms, accepting introductions to Blake’s friends, memorizing names and faces out of habit. Blake greeted person after person, always with the same practiced smile. He wondered how much her face must hurt, having to hold that expression all the time.
Each person who spoke to Blake said the same thing. “Darling, you look ravishing! Where’s Rube tonight?”
“Out of town,” Blake said repeatedly. Then she patted Caleb’s hand. “But he told me not to be lonely!”
Every time she said this, the person laughed and then moved on. Caleb considered himself a fairly modern man, but he was surprised by the ease with which these people accepted Blake’s apparent infidelity.
When they stopped for drinks at the bar, he wasn’t able to hold his tongue. “Nice friends. Nobody seems too upset that you’re here with me instead of Rube.”
She sipped her martini with enthusiasm. “I’m a party girl,” she said blithely. “I’m capable of anything, and they know it. They also know that Rube knows it. And if he doesn’t care, why should they?”
He thought that she was downing that martini kind of quick. He also thought that her blasé attitude was a little forced. When she had drained her glass, she added, “See? They’ve got me all figured out, too,” and he knew he was right on both counts.
She handed him his drink, picked up a second one for herself, and they moved through the crowd to the back patio.
“This is some place.” Caleb was unable to keep the awe out of his voice. The back was sculpted by a dozen shallow steps, each one a wide terrace that led down to a long, oval pool. Grecian columns ringed the blue water, freestanding majestically as if they were holding up the sky itself.
Blake nodded her agreement. “Rube was livid when the Hadleys bought this place last fall. He’d had his eye on it for years, but when it finally came on the market the timing just wasn’t right for him to buy.”
“That must have been disappointing.”
She shrugged. “I like my house better, anyway. It’s cozier.”
Caleb noticed the possessive pronoun but didn’t comment on that part. “Cozy’s not exactly the word I would have used.”
“Oh, look,” she said. “There’s May Hadley. Come on, I’ll introduce you. Her husband’s a vice president at RCA. Very big deal.”
May Hadley turned out to be a very tall, thin woman with very big, white teeth. Caleb smiled politely and shook her hand, feeling the thin bones under her leathery skin. She asked Blake the obligatory question about Rube and gave the expected laughing response when Blake answered. Then she added, “Oh, Blake, there’s nothing you won’t do, is there?”
The question sounded like it was meant fondly, but Caleb could feel Blake stiffen. Her smile, however, didn’t falter. “Nothing and no one,” she answered merrily. Then she turned to Caleb. “Would you excuse me for a second? I’m going to the ladies’ room.”
Mrs. Hadley watched her walk away. “Would you look at that figure?” she murmured enviously. Then she gave Caleb a flirtatious glance and smoothed a hand over her skin-tight black silk dress. “Of course, I’m not too bad myself, wouldn’t you agree? Not for an old bag, anyway.”
Caleb shifted uncomfortably. “You’re not – “
“I’m older than I look,” she told him. “You’d be surprised. It’s the Botox that keeps me looking so young.”
“Botox?” Caleb felt faintly terrified. Was he really going to have to have this conversation?
The subject was obviously dear to May’s heart. She lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh, honey, it’s amazing stuff! I used to have these terrible lines around my mouth. And now, look.” She leaned closer and pointed to the edge of her plump lips. “Not a mark! And you should have seen my forehead….”
*
Blake took her time in the powder room. She washed her hands carefully, admiring the seashell sculpting on the gold-plated taps. She had seen this look before and had always considered it a little on the tacky side. But May’s decorator had managed to make it look classy. Nice work.
She sighed in frustration. Why had she let May’s question get to her? It was just an offhand remark. Usually Blake was much thicker-skinned. She had to be.
An elegant pyramid of rolled linen hand cloths sat on a marble tray next to the sink. She patted her hands dry and deposited the used towel in a basket obviously designed for that purpose. Then she leaned toward the mirror and examined the fine-looking reflection that stared gravely back at her.
When she was younger she had been completely smitten with her own looks, exquisitely sure of the power of her beauty. But now she thought of her physical self primarily as an asset, something to be maintained and used to get the maximum results. She played up her strengths and played down her weaknesses – it was basically that simple.
After a while, Blake realized that she had to rejoin the festivities. She had been in here too long, leaving poor Caleb alone to fend for himself against the West Coast sharks that circulated at these parties.
Just knowing that Caleb was out there waiting for her made it easier to turn the handle on the door and leave the privacy of the powder room behind. She spotted him beside the pool, still talking to Mrs. Hadley. May was gesturing to her derriere, and Caleb looked as if he were trying to appear interested in what she was saying, but at the same time trying not to look like he was staring at her butt.
Blake stifled a laugh and started over to rescue him. But a hand landed on her arm, restraining her. She turned. It was Greg Betch.
“Greg!” She was surprised to see him here. When Rube was gone, Greg usually laid low.
She stretched up and gave him an absent peck on the cheek. “How are you?”
“I need to talk to you.” His voice was low and intense.
“Well, sure,” she said uncertainly. She glanced over her shoulder toward Caleb, but a crowd of people seemed to close in, blocking her view.
Greg’s hand was still on h
er arm. Gently he pulled her behind a tall palm plant. The wide fronds effectively hid them from the eyes of others. For all intents and purposes, they were alone.
Blake kept a smile plastered firmly on her face, but inside her nerves were jangling like a fire alarm. She looked up into Greg’s handsome face, with his dark eyes, olive skin and thick black hair, and she saw his features as they had been last night – contorted with anger and cruelty.
“Have you heard from Rube?” he asked.
She shook her head. “We had dinner at home last night, but he was gone this morning.”
A frown drew the corners of Greg’s mouth downward. “And he didn’t tell you where he was going?”
Blake hesitated. She wanted very badly to ask him about what she had seen last night. Who was that man tied to the chair? What was going on in her house? But the way Greg was watching her, his eyes narrowed with intent ferocity, convinced her that maybe she was better off not knowing. She bit her lip mentally, then tossed her head in her head and answered with her best breezy-blond manner. “No… but that’s not unusual.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “He’ll often go off for a week or so and not tell me about it.” She paused. “Why? Do you need to get in touch with him?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of important.” He drew a hand through his hair in an agitated motion. In her mind’s eye Blake saw the vicious swing of his hand as he slapped the man tied to a chair. She swallowed.
“Well, you know Rube. He could be anywhere – buying silver in Mexico, or wine in Italy.” She forced a laugh. “He could even be in a Japanese tea house, holed up with some gorgeous geisha.”
Greg looked at her curiously. “And that wouldn’t bother you?”
She shrugged, hoping she looked unaffected. “Some men aren’t meant to limit themselves to one woman. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.”
“You’re more understanding than most women would be.”
She smiled her most dazzling smile. “Do I look like most women?”
“No, you look like – like – ” he broke off and looked away, seemingly overcome by emotion. Then he gave her a sad smile and took her hand gently. “Blake, we’ve known each other a long time. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Blake stiffened. Get hurt could mean a lot of different things. An image danced through her mind – Rube leaning over Jake last night, lecturing, menacing.
“Why would I get hurt?” What she really wanted to know was how she could get hurt, but that seemed like too direct a question.
He shook his head. “Well, this is Rube we’re talking about. He’s unpredictable, and he’s the type of guy that it’s hard to say ‘no’ to, you know?”
Blake blinked. What exactly was Greg telling her? That her life was actually in danger? Had Rube asked Greg to…
She felt her chest start to hitch. Oh, God, she was having trouble breathing. She had to get away from here. She wanted to be with Caleb, on his motorcycle, holding on to him as they roared through the darkness.
Blake laughed again. Did it sound forced? Phony? “Don’t I know it!” she said blithely. “We’ve been together eight years, and I hardly ever say no to that man.” She patted Greg’s hand. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. Rube will be back in a week – less, probably. You can see him then, okay?”
Greg looked down at her despairingly, as if fearing that she wasn’t quite bright enough to comprehend what was going on around her. Well, it could be that he was right about that, because she truly didn’t understand what was going on.
But he released her hand and gave her a half-hearted smile. “Keep in touch, and if you need me, let me know,” he said. Then he was gone.
Six
Caleb had never been as glad to see anyone as he was to see Blake returning from the ladies’ room. Jesus, but she’d been in there a long time. There had been a brief moment when he was actually afraid that she might have deserted him, jumped into some pretty boy’s flashy convertible and left him here alone.
May Hadley had just launched an enthusiastic recounting of her latest plastic surgery when Blake finally glided back onto the scene. Her color was high, her eyes bright. She was still wearing that same smile, but Caleb sensed a brittleness in her – dry and stiff and ready to snap. Had something happened?
Suddenly alert, Caleb lifted his head and looked around, trying to spot any unusual activity or suspicious characters. But he had forgotten where he was – all the people around him looked somewhat suspicious. And as for unusual activity…
“May!” Blake called merrily. “I can’t thank you enough for entertaining Caleb. I hope you haven’t been flirting with him too much.”
She sidled up next to Caleb and slipped an arm through his, leaning against him with gentle pressure and warmth. He looked down at her, noting the smoothness of her skin, the graceful straight slope of her nose. She shifted her eyes upward, and a flash of electricity seemed to arch from her eyes to his. He felt it all the way down to the soles of his feet.
Blake was still speaking to their hostess, her plum-colored lips parting to reveal flashes of white teeth. “I’m so sorry, May, but we have to go. I had a wonderful time, though, thank you so much.”
Mrs. Hadley immediately objected – don’t go, you just got here, etc. – but Blake was already heading for the door, with Caleb tripping willingly after her. They had barely been at the party for two hours, but it seemed like a lifetime.
Outside, the cool night air was felt refreshingly normal. When they had climbed back on the motorcycle and were on the road again, Blake held onto him tightly, much tighter than before. Her cheek rested comfortably against his back.
Although he had no objections to the increased contact between them, Caleb was puzzled. Between the time Blake had left to go to the ladies room and the time she had returned, something had changed. Again he wondered if she had been approached by someone. Could Rube Jeffries himself have been at the party tonight? How could Caleb have missed him, if he had in fact been there?
They were almost back at the Entwistle Ridge house when Blake lifted her head and told him to go another way. He followed her directions, going farther up the mountains, twisting this way and that. At last they were on Mulholland Drive again, on that famous stretch of road that looked down at the city. He stopped where she told him to, pulling over onto a broad swath of shoulder flanked by shrubs.
He thought they might just pause here for a few minutes, take in the view and move on. But to his surprise, Blake slithered off the back and removed her helmet. She walked a few steps away from him, peering through the bushes at the twinkling lights below. Then, without a word, she disappeared into the underbrush.
Caleb gave a surprised shout and dashed forward, thinking she must have fallen. But he saw that a small path led off to the right, and Blake was on it. He called after her but she ignored him. Irritated, he knew that he had no choice but to follow her.
Not wanting to leave his bike by the side of the road, he pushed it beside him down the narrow pathway. The dry brush grabbed at his jacket, and scratched his face. Crazy women – they were always getting him into strange situations, when all he really wanted was to be out on the open road, riding his motorcycle, or at home with his feet propped up in front of a fire. Cursing under his breath, he swore to himself that if he found a single mark on his bike as a result of this escapade, Blake was going to pay for the repair. She could afford it, after all.
He emerged into a small clearing. Blake stood by a low guardrail, staring down into the valley. He set the stand on his bike, making sure it was firmly situated, then he went to join her. As he walked forward, he caught his breath. It looked like all of Hollywood was laid out there before them. He had never thought of the city as being beautiful before, but there was no denying that this view was breathtaking.
Blake heard Caleb’s boots crunching on the rocks behind her, and she cursed herself for bringing him here. This was a place for lovers, a place for quiet words and intimate caresse
s, and she couldn’t give him either. In her mind, she saw a man named Jake, tied to a chair and weeping, afraid for his life. She heard Greg Betch’s voice saying, “I don’t want to see you get hurt.” What was she doing, getting Caleb mixed up in this? She should just get back onto the bike and have him drop her off at the house, never see him again.
But, as Caleb approached, she heard her own voice speaking quietly into the darkness. “You should know that I’ve done all this before,” she said. “It’s something I do, like a little game I play. Rube goes out of town, I find a guy to replace him for a day or two. I take him out, show him off, and then send him on his way.” She turned and looked at him. “It doesn’t mean anything, and I never let it get physical. But it keeps up appearances, you know?”
There was a heartbeat of silence before he answered. “No, I don’t know. I don’t understand the idea of playing around to ‘keep up appearances.’”
“How refreshing.” She heard the mocking tone in her voice and it disgusted her. She used the toe of her shoe to crush the life out of one of the tough green weeds that grew abundantly over the hills. With its death, it released the fragrance of moist freshness into the clear night air. She breathed in deeply, and spoke again. “I don’t like to talk to strangers about Rube. I guess he’s the kind of person that you really have to get to know before you can appreciate him. But I owe him a lot. Everything, in fact. He’s a player, and I’m his girl. And when the player’s away, the girl must play, or else it looks… unsavory.”
“You have to cheat on him to make him respectable?”
“Yes.” Despite the fact that she knew Caleb was being ironic, she felt relieved that he had managed sum up the situation so precisely. “Except I don’t know if it qualifies as cheating, since… “
“You never let it get physical,” he finished for her.
