He’d ask later.
He headed over to the table. Molly and Estelle had clearly noticed something different about him, but their expressions seemed more shocked than awed.
“Estelle, Molly.” He sat between them and picked up his menu.
“What’s this?” Estelle, who been his manager for seven years, looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. “I can’t believe it.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “You, my dear Charlie, look hot.”
He felt himself blush, so he hid behind the menu. But he didn’t look at it. Instead, he peeked over the top to see if Molly agreed with Estelle.
She didn’t look like she was going to kiss him. Basically, she just looked confused. Really confused.
“What brought this on?”
He turned to Estelle. “Time for a change.”
“It’s fabulous. I had no idea. All these years and you were hiding behind those shlumpy clothes. Amazing. And that hair. Ms. Jones, you’re beautiful without your glasses.”
“Estelle…”
“I’m just saying. It’s quite a difference.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“No, definitely a good thing. I mean, that ass. Molly, did you know about his ass?”
Back behind the menu, he actually tried to see the printed words, but gave it up. This blushing business had to stop. He peeked once more, wondering if Molly had an opinion about his ass, but nothing had changed. Perplexed? Weirded out? He couldn’t be sure. But he didn’t think it was good.
Estelle left the subject of his rear end to fill him in on the latest discussions with the network. He listened as well as he could with Molly staring at him so hard. The song came back. Only it wasn’t so loud anymore. In fact, it was fading fast. What was she thinking? Why didn’t she say something? What the hell was Estelle talking about?
“The exposure is going to be invaluable. I mean, look what’s happened to Ellen. She’s doing amazingly well. Right, Charlie?”
“Whatever Molly wants,” he said, still watching Molly watching him. “I support her.”
“You’re seeing someone.”
Charlie blinked. Finally, Molly had spoken. She hadn’t made a lick of sense, but words had come out of her mouth. “Huh?” he asked, in what was quickly becoming his motto.
“The hair. The clothes. You’ve got a girlfriend.”
Again, the blushing.
“Is that true, Charlie?” Estelle asked. “Who’s the lucky girl?”
“I, uh—”
“It’s that dancer, isn’t it?” Molly leaned forward. “From the Rio. Laurel. That was her name. No, wait. It’s Jana. Oh, my God, you’re going out with Jana.”
Estelle looked from Molly to Charlie. “Who’s Jana?”
“She’s a blackjack dealer,” Molly said. She leaned back in her chair, looking mighty pleased with herself. “Damn, Charlie. Why all the secrecy? Jana’s cool. We should do lunch or something. Invite her backstage. Jana. Wow. Does Bob know?”
“No.”
“Seriously, Estelle. Jana’s great. She could be a model, she’s so pretty.”
“Molly, wait.”
“Wait? Too soon, huh? Just getting to know each other? She’s funny, right? I mean, she gets your sense of humor?” Molly took a big drink of her iced tea. “You wouldn’t go out with someone who didn’t get you, that would be nuts.”
“Uh, Moll…”
The waitress came to the table. Charlie ordered Crab Rangoon and a beer, welcoming the interruption. He needed to get it together here. Molly seemed awfully glad he was dating someone. Else.
“Charlie?” She looked at him expectantly.
God, she was amazing. She’d pushed her hair back with one of the bands that he associated with grade school girls, but on Molly, it worked. Everything worked. From her green T-shirt to the tiny little mole on her cheek, she was…
“Charlie?”
“I’m not dating Jana.”
“No?”
He shook his head.
Molly’s hand came up. “Don’t tell me. I want to figure it out myself.”
“But—”
“Listen, kids, I have to go.” Estelle stood up, kissed him on the cheek, kissed Molly on the lips, which made him wonder about a lot of things, but then it was just him and Molly.
For about five hot seconds.
“I’ve got pilates,” she said, as she pulled out her wallet. “Sorry, but you were late.”
“Uh—”
She threw down a twenty, ruffled his hair with her hand, then walked out of the restaurant.
Ruffled his hair. Kind of like what he did to his five-year-old nephew. What he’d never do again, that’s for damn sure. “Thanks a lot, Elvis.”
“Uh, it’s Eileen,” the waitress said from behind his right shoulder. She put his appetizer and beer down, and walked away, shaking her head.
Charlie sighed.
“YOU’D BETTER tell me, Bobby. I swear, if you don’t, I’ll…”
“What’ll you do, Molly? Take away my lunch money?”
Molly crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. They were in her dressing room at the Hilton, and damn Bobby Tripp, he wasn’t giving her anything. If anyone knew who the new woman in Charlie’s life was, it had to be her director, even though Bobby wasn’t around so much these days. He was working a new show at Star-dust with a bright young comedy team. But he talked to Charlie all the time. Aside from her, Bobby was Charlie’s best friend. “Come on, Bobby, this is important.”
“What do you care who he’s seeing?”
She got up and grabbed a soda for herself and one for Bobby from the small fridge in the corner. “I don’t. He can see whoever the hell he wants as long as it doesn’t interfere.”
“With what?”
She sat again. Looked at the pictures that lined her big makeup mirror. Charlie was in a lot of them. Most of them. “We’re on the brink, here. All of us. It’s the most important time in our careers.”
“And?”
She looked at Bobby. He wasn’t dense. In fact, he was one of the brightest men she’d ever met. He was also a weird little guy, short, skinny, with a pixie nose and an ear for comedy that couldn’t be beat. “Have you seen the new, improved Charlie?”
“It doesn’t matter. Even if he’d gotten a damn Mohawk, who cares? He’s not going anywhere.”
“It’s not just his hair. He was wearing Hugo Boss.”
Bobby sat back. He pulled a cigarette from the pocket of his denim shirt and slowly lit up. “Hugo Boss,” he said finally. “That changes everything.”
“Smart-ass. The point is, he’s…different.”
“So what? You think he’s fallen for someone? Well, good for Charlie. Although why I haven’t heard anything about it…”
“That’s right,” she said, jabbing her soda his way. “Distraction. He’s been acting weird for months now, and why is that? Huh? Because he’s fallen for someone who’s…”
“Who’s what?”
“Bad.”
Bobby laughed. “Bad?”
“If it was someone, you know, cool, then we’d have met her by now. Am I right?”
“Charlie’s a funny guy. He’s private. For all we know she’s a kindergarten teacher from Henderson.”
“You have to find out.”
“I’m not gonna pry. If he wants to talk to me about it, then I’ll listen, but I won’t press him. And you, young lady, better not, either. Charlie’s the most sensible guy I know. If he hasn’t told us about her, I’m sure he’s got his reasons. So let it go.”
“We have some really important decisions to make, and soon. How can we do that if he’s hiding this woman? It stinks, Mr. Tripp. And I think Charlie’s in trouble.”
“You do your own dirty work.” He stood up. “I’ve gotta go. And you need to chill.”
“I’ll chill when I know what’s going on.”
Bobby came up to her and kissed her on the cheek. “Careful, honey. Charlie’s a kee
per. Don’t do anything to screw it up.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here. Who needs ya?”
“You do, my love. We all need each other.”
She stood up, gave him a huge hug, then let him go, although she didn’t let go of her worry.
Something was going on with Charlie. She did not have a good feeling about it. Even though, she had to admit, he had looked damn good. Who’da thunk it? Charlie looking sharp, like a movie star. Hell, she’d been around when they’d shot Ocean’s Eleven at the Bellagio and he would have fit right in with Brad and George. Which made no sense.
Charlie was the most humble man in show business. He never made a fuss, never needed the spotlight. He would have been perfectly content to be the silent partner. She’d insisted he get credit. Everyone on the Strip, in the whole comedy world, understood Charlie’s talent. Everyone but Charlie.
He could be such a dope sometimes. In the years she’d known him, he’d dated. Not a lot, but enough. And not one of the women was good enough for him. They either took advantage of his kindness or they didn’t appreciate the weird way his mind worked. But one thing was for sure, he’d never gone to this much trouble for any woman before.
He just didn’t care about that stuff. The clothes, the do. He was unassuming and sweet. One of the last of the true nice guys.
And she wasn’t about to let him get hurt. Not on her watch.
She looked at the time. It was still early, and if she was smart, she’d get some rest before the first show. Yeah. Rest.
CHARLIE SAT at the farthest end of the little bar. He’d been nursing a scotch and soda which was pretty much just melted ice by now, but he couldn’t be bothered to get another one. The bartender had gotten the message after the fourth attempt to freshen his drink.
There were others at the bar, but they were mostly on the other, better-lit side of the room. Playing video poker. Laughing, drinking, having a swell old time.
He’d bet good money that not one of them had seen Elvis in their bathrooms. Lucky bastards.
Elvis Presley. It made no sense. Well, duh. Elvis was dead. For real. Maybe, instead of listening to the stiff, he should just call the Enquirer. Make some of the money back that he’d spent on clothes.
No, he’d be too embarrassed to tell anyone, even a reporter, that he was being visited. Visited. What a joke. Tormented. That was more like it. Being driven to the brink of insanity.
And for what? Molly didn’t see him as anything but Good Old Charlie. She was thrilled that he was dating. Anyone but her.
The jukebox changed songs. Guess who.
“Bartender? I’ll take another. Make it a double.”
CHAPTER FIVE
MOLLY STRIPPED. Everything except her panties. She threw the clothes on her bed on top of the five other outfits she’d rejected and opened her closet again.
There was no time to go shopping. In fact, she was already fashionably late for the party, and at the rate she was going she’d get there ten minutes after the booze ran out.
Damn party. She didn’t want to go. But she had to because the network people were going to be there, and she had to be sparkling and charming and funny and sexy and yeah, right. What she wanted was a few choice pints of Ben & Jerry’s and a tablespoon.
At least Charlie would be there. At least, she thought he would be there. They hadn’t talked all day. She’d left messages, but he hadn’t returned her calls, which, now that she thought about it, was damn weird, and who was this woman he was dating, anyway?
Oh, God, he was going to bring her.
“So what?” she said aloud. She was probably someone Molly knew, so no biggie, right? Or maybe it was someone from his gym. If it was, she was probably hot. Of course she was hot. Charlie wouldn’t go out with someone icky. Although she might not be sizzling, more quietly seductive.
It didn’t matter. Whoever she was, as long as she wasn’t…As long as she was…
She’d better be nice, that’s all. Nice and sweet and she’d better treat him like the wonderful guy he was, and she’d better not even think of interfering with their partnership, because oh, baby, if that bitch tried one thing to screw up this deal…
“Get a grip,” she said. Out loud. “And get dressed.”
She flipped through clothes, most of them picked up at secondhand stores, but some of them given to her by big name designers for awards shows and premiers. Her hands stopped on a silver dress. “Ah-ha.”
She gave it a once-over. It was small. Not tight so much as not much there. Short, spaghetti straps, low cut. Sex on legs. She slipped it on, went to the mirror, and smiled. “Hell, I’d do me,” she said.
But, she still needed makeup. And to fix the hair. So get your ass in gear, Molly.
HER CHEEKS HURT from smiling. She’d talked to the executive in charge of programming, the executive in charge of daytime, the executive in charge of production and if there were any more executives in charge of anything, she didn’t want to know about it.
Estelle was flying, helped along on the wings of Johnnie Walker Red, but it was okay, because it looked an awful lot like this thing was going to happen. That The Molly Canada Show was going to be on the air, five days a week. With guest stars and everything. She’d already started her list, topped by Jude Law. Well, she wasn’t stupid.
And while she’d been funny, etc., etc., she’d also been acutely aware that one Charlie Webster was missing in action. She’d been late almost two hours ago. All the shrimp cocktail was gone, the ice sculpture had melted into something vaguely scary, and her feet hurt.
Dammit, where was he? He never missed stuff like this. See, this is why she was suspicious, and Bobby Tripp could just take all his “calm downs,” and shove them where the sun don’t shine. Whoever this babe was, she was definitely trouble, and something must be done.
Molly got herself another drink, a killer apple martini, and set out to find Mr. Tripp. She air-kissed far too many people, including some of the hottest acts on the Strip, all of whom congratulated her on the show, and pitched for a guest spot for themselves, which actually felt pretty freakin’ good, but Bobby was nowhere to be found.
The music, which had been piped into the penthouse suite all evening, changed from Top 40 to something that calmed her immediately. Elvis. Always good for what ailed her. Appropriately, the song was “Suspicion.” She took another sip of her drink, and that’s when Charlie walked in.
Charlie and a woman.
A strange woman. Not odd, but someone she didn’t know. A total hottie, which made sense because, holy crap, Charlie looked amazing. His hair was all uh-huh, and he had on a suit that was so cool it refroze the ice sculpture.
She wore a Band-Aid masquerading as a blue dress, with heels that had to be causing serious damage, and the look she gave Charlie was such a blatant invitation, Molly blushed.
To make matters worse, the chick, bottle-blond and a piss-poor job of it, touched his sleeve. It was one of those touches, the kind that pretend to be all casual and innocent, but are really the keys to the bedroom door. Molly knew all about those touches. She and Charlie had done a whole routine about them. She still used it from time to time. The routine and the touch.
She headed toward the door, but she was stopped by a hand on her arm. It was Kelly, one of the dancers from Splash.
“Is that Charlie?”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell happened to him?”
“He was on Extreme Makeover.”
“Well, damn, it sure looks good on him.”
“Excuse me.” Molly continued through the big living room, converted by the hotel staff into party central, watching the reaction of the womenfolk to the new Charlie. It was ridiculous. For heaven’s sake, it was still just Charlie. But everyone who knew him looked stunned. As if he’d been transformed into…someone else.
“Molly.”
“Charlie.”
His smile looked so innocent. As if he didn’t know.
“Who’s you
r friend?”
His brows came down and his smile faded. “Friend?”
She let her eyes move to her right, but only her eyes.
Charlie’s face didn’t change. And then it did. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
He turned to the blonde. “Felicity, this is Molly Canada. My partner.”
Felicity giggled. “Oh, I’ve been to your show. You’re so funny.”
“Yeah, I’m a scream.”
Fluttering eyelashes this time, in addition to the giggle.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
She looked at Charlie again. “No biggie. Just our future.”
“Did something happen?”
“I spoke to them.”
He put one hand in his slacks pocket. Only it was sexy. Smooth. Like he was, well, debonair. “Them?”
“The executives.”
“Oh.”
She raised a scathing eyebrow.
“And?” he asked.
“They wondered where you were.”
“Really?”
She sipped her drink. “Well, they didn’t actually say the words, but I could tell they were thinking it.”
“I see.”
“So, uh, why where you late?”
Charlie smiled. It was far too knowing. “You want another drink?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Then he walked away, toward the bar. Leaving her and Felicity in his wake.
“He’s really cute,” Felicity said.
“Bite me.” Molly walked away, not feeling the least bit repentant. She followed Charlie, determined to get to the bottom of this whole thing.
Before she reached the bar, Kenny Burrell, one of the choreographers from O, sidled up to Charlie. They’d been friends for a while, and Kenny would understand when she shooed him away.
Except, why was Kenny’s hand on Charlie’s ass?
Charlie seemed as surprised as she was, but Kenny just laughed and wandered away.
This was worse than she expected.
“Aha,” he said. “I just put your order in.”
“Kenny put his in, too, I see.”
Charlie looked a little panicked. “Uh—”
“It’s okay, Charlie. I understand. If you want to go…”
Love So Tender: Taking Care of BusinessPlay It Again, ElvisGood Luck Charm Page 11
