Illusions of Love

by Michelle Betham

  He moved closer, praying she wouldn’t turn away from him again and she didn’t. She kept her eyes on his as he walked towards her, unfolding her arms, and he was almost certain now. Certain that he could do this. Certain that she would be okay about it. ‘I’m really looking forward to working with you again, India; you know that, don’t you?’

  She nodded, the intensity in his eyes boring right into her very soul. He was doing it again – wearing her down, draining her energy, pulling her in, and it wasn’t going to happen again. She hadn’t come this far only to take a hundred steps back.

  ‘You sap every ounce of strength out of me, Michael, and I hate you for it.’

  He smiled, reaching out to touch her cheek with the palm of his hand, her skin so soft as he stroked it gently. ‘Do you want me to go?’

  ‘I want you to go,’ she repeated. ‘Now.’ But, did she? Did she really?

  Sliding a hand into the small of her back he pulled her against him, ignoring her request, lowering his mouth down onto hers in a kiss that lasted just seconds but it was enough, because too much time away from her, too long without her had meant he needed her like a drug he couldn’t do without and just the tiniest of touches could satisfy him. He was addicted, and he needed that fix, no matter how brief.

  ‘That is never going to happen again,’ India whispered, angry at herself for letting it happen in the first place. It was a sign of the old weakness returning and she’d promised herself that would never happen. Not again. Not after everything she’d been through. ‘So, like I said before, I’d like you to go. Now.’

  ‘India…’

  She walked away from him, pushing a hand through her hair, refusing to look at him. This conversation was over. The situation was done. Finished. ‘Now, Michael. I’d like you to go now.’

  What else was he supposed to do? Stand there and force her to be with him? Considering their history that would be the worst thing he could ever do, but knowing that she didn’t feel the same way that he did, it hurt like hell. Coming here, knowing he was going to be working with her, so close, every day, he’d thought – he’d stupidly assumed – that she’d see things his way. Assumed she’d see that what they’d had was worth fighting for, when she so obviously didn’t.

  ‘I’m sorry, India…’

  She swung round to look at him, folding her arms again, the look in her eyes one of determination. Michael Walsh would not take her down, not again, not this time. She could do this, she could fight this. She could live her life without hoping he might one day come back into it, because she needed to feel that to give her any chance of really moving forward.

  ‘We stay purely professional, Michael. We’re here to work together, that’s all. You got that?’

  He got it. Loud and clear. But it still didn’t stop him from hoping that, one day, things might change. Because Michael Walsh never gave up on anything without one hell of a fight.

  CHAPTER 6

  He opened the drawer and reached for the file, sliding out the photographs that had been placed between the paperwork, studying each one carefully. She’d changed. She was hardly recognisable to him now and that angered him slightly because it showed disrespect. And he wasn’t used to that.

  Lighting up a cigar he stood up, throwing the photographs down onto the table, walking over to the window, pulling up the blinds to let in the early morning Californian sunshine, squinting slightly as it bounced off the surface of his huge oval swimming pool. Maybe he’d grab a few minutes outside in the sun, get used to his new surroundings. But he didn’t want to hang around too long. He had work to do. He had things to sort out. He had scores to settle. And he just hoped she liked surprises, because he couldn’t wait for this one to unfold.

  ***

  The heat was searing as Kenny sat down opposite Layla, taking a chance to grab a quick coffee before he went back out on set. Filming of this movie was almost at an end for him now and he’d enjoyed it, it had been a fun movie to work on, but he was missing India already. He’d been out with her a couple of days ago, a last night out together before she’d left for Vegas, and they’d had a great time. It had been one of those nights when he’d felt as though the old times were back, the nights when they’d just hung out at their favourite bars with their biker friends with nothing there to get in the way. But stuff was always in the way now, no matter how hard they tried to pretend it wasn’t.

  ‘Penny for them,’ Kenny said.

  Layla smiled as she looked at him. ‘That’s a very English turn of phrase.’

  ‘Well, that’s probably because I’ve spent nearly half my life hanging out with an English girl. You kinda pick things up.’

  She watched him as he looked down into his coffee. ‘You miss her, don’t you?’

  Kenny looked at Layla, the harsh, almost fake appearance she’d adopted in the past having given way to a softer, so much prettier side of her. She really was a very beautiful young woman. ‘I’ll always miss her. She can be right beside me, Layla, and I’d still miss her.’

  ‘That’s not really missing her though, is it? That’s missing what you had.’

  He gave a small laugh, looking back down into his coffee. ‘There’s nothing I can say to that, is there?’

  Layla stood up, pushing her chair back under the table. ‘You should have tried harder with Casey. She was good for you, you were happy with her. You were never really happy with India because you were never really with her, were you?’ She leant over and kissed him on the cheek, stroking his face gently. ‘Stop doing this to yourself, Kenny. You don’t deserve it. Find a woman to fall in love with, and be happy.’ She stood up straight and repositioned the top of her dress, smiling at him. ‘I’ll see you on set.’

  She walked off, heading towards her trailer, catching sight of a familiar face sitting on the steps as she reached it.

  She sat down next to him and he turned to look at her. ‘Did Michael go to Vegas early?’ he asked, his hands clasped between his open knees, his handsome face clouded with sadness.

  Layla reached out and touched his hand. ‘What are you doing here, JJ?’

  ‘Did he go to Vegas early, Layla?’

  She sighed, pulling her hand away. ‘He left yesterday.’

  ‘So did India.’

  She looked at him again as he stared straight ahead of him. ‘So…?’

  He turned to face her, the sadness now giving way to something bordering on anger. ‘So, you don’t think that’s a bit too coincidental?’

  She shrugged, not really knowing what to say. Michael had left early because he always liked to be ahead of the game. Maybe India just felt the same way.

  ‘How are things with you and Michael?’ JJ asked, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on Layla’s.

  She sighed again, leaning back against the trailer steps. ‘There is no me and Michael. Not anymore. I mean, we haven’t officially split up or anything, I suppose you could say we’re in some kind of relationship limbo but… well, it’s all but over. Whatever we had – and I’m not sure it was ever that much – it’s gone.’

  ‘Do you still love him?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  JJ stared straight ahead again. What the hell was it with Michael Walsh? Sure, he had money, power, status; there was no denying that. But Layla didn’t need any of it, not really, not from him. And India certainly didn’t need anything from him, especially after what he’d done to her. Yet still they gravitated towards him like moths to the proverbial flame. ‘Then fight for him, Layla.’

  She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. ‘What’s the point?’

  He looked at her. ‘The point is that you still love him. So fight for him’

  ‘And, do you want me to fight for him because you think that’s what would be best for me? Or, do you want me to fight for him because you think that’ll stop him from getting your wife back into bed?’

  He stood up, digging his hands deep into his pockets, unable to stand still. ‘Is that what you think is happeni
ng? Is that why they’ve gone to Vegas early? Do you think he wants to… Would he do that, Layla? Is… is that what you think is going on?’

  She stood up too, going over to him, touching his arm in an attempt to try and make him stand still for a second. ‘I don’t know, JJ.’

  ‘Is that why she’s gone early too? So they can be together? Alone?’

  ‘JJ… Come on, what’s the matter with you?’

  He shook off her hand and sat back down, pushing a hand through his short dark hair. ‘Jesus… I don’t know, Layla. I thought I’d accepted this, y’know? I thought I was okay about the fact we were growing further apart but… if she goes back to him…’

  ‘Who says she’s going back to him?’ Layla sat back down, giving JJ’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

  He looked at her. ‘Do you honestly think he won’t try, Layla? Do you honestly think he won’t try to get her back?’

  She squeezed his shoulder again. ‘Are you absolutely sure that the reason you and India can’t make it work… Is it really just because of Michael?’

  He narrowed his eyes as he stared at her. ‘Of course it’s because of him. What other fucking reason is there? We were solid, Layla…’

  ‘Were you?’

  He shook her off again, standing up, shoving his hands back in his pockets. ‘We were solid, okay?’

  ‘JJ!’ She stood up too, trying to decide whether or not to go after him. ‘Where are you going?’

  He stopped and turned back around to face her. ‘You might not want to fight for the man you love, Layla. But I’m sure as hell gonna try one more time to fight for my wife.’

  ***

  India sat at the breakfast bar, watching Bobby as he scrubbed down the counter tops in a pair of pink rubber gloves, singing along to a Lady Gaga song on the radio.

  Resting her chin in her hands she couldn’t help smiling. She was happy. Yeah, she was happy. She might be close to another divorce, and ex-husband number two seemed to be trying his hardest to break her down again, but she felt stronger now. What had happened with Michael last night had shown her that she could do this. It wasn’t going to be easy – he’d proved that by what he’d done – but when she’d looked at him she hadn’t felt all those old feelings come rushing back. When he’d kissed her she hadn’t felt as though she was home, that he was where she needed to be. She’d felt nothing. Except a knowledge that maybe now she could finally move on and not always need him around.

  ‘Everything okay, Princess?’

  India shook herself back to reality and sat up straight, picking up her script, flicking through it but not really taking anything in. ‘Everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?’

  Bobby shrugged. ‘No reason. You just looked deep in thought, that’s all.’

  She smiled slightly, not looking up from her script. ‘Are you saying that’s not something you’re used to seeing?’

  ‘Those words didn’t come from my mouth, Angel.’

  She looked up, sticking her tongue out at him. She didn’t know what she’d do without Bobby. He just made everything feel better. ‘Have you finished cleaning yet? You do realise they have people to do that for us, don’t you?’

  ‘Ooh, get her! Twenty years a movie star and now she finds her inner diva!’

  She pulled a face at him and he pulled one back, causing her to laugh out loud. ‘I am so not a diva, Bobby.’

  ‘Whatever you say, Princess… Oh, my… who is that?’

  She leant over to pick up some papers that had fallen out from between the pages of her script, stuff she’d printed out and almost forgotten about. After a couple of glasses of wine the previous night, curiosity regarding her new co-star had got the better of her so she’d decided to do a bit of research on Dominic MacDonald, just to give her a heads-up on who she was going to be working with over the next few months. She’d known a little bit about him – he was hard to ignore at the moment, being one of the biggest stars around right now – but she wanted to know more. And what was so wrong about that?

  Bobby came up behind her, peering over her shoulder, sighing as he looked at the picture of Dominic MacDonald staring back at him, that movie star smile in full evidence. ‘Oh, the gorgeous Dominic MacDonald. What a dream! How handsome is he?’

  India looked at the photograph. She couldn’t deny he was one hell of a good-looking guy, that wasn’t in question. He made JJ look ordinary, and that was saying something, because JJ Foster was one of the hottest men around right now. But Dominic MacDonald, he was in a league of his own. ‘Yeah, he’s okay.’

  ‘Okay?’ Bobby gasped. ‘Are you looking at the same guy I’m looking at? He is burning up that photograph, Angel. And he’s playing your husband in this movie! Aren’t you excited?’

  She swung round on her stool and looked at her wonderful personal assistant. ‘Excited?’ She couldn’t help laughing. ‘No, I’m not excited, Bobby. It’s a job.’

  ‘But you’re gonna get to kiss him, Princess! Oh-my-God! You are gonna get to kiss that mouth!’ He sat down on the stool next to her, grabbing the script from her hands and fanning himself with it. ‘I have no idea how you can be so nonchalant about this, Angel. How can you be so cold?’

  She couldn’t help laughing again, jumping down from her stool as her seven-year-old son ran into the room, followed by her father.

  ‘What’s the matter with him?’ Reece asked, indicating Bobby who was leaning back against the breakfast bar still fanning himself with her script.

  ‘He’s learning to cope with his recent crush on Dominic MacDonald.’ She crouched down and hugged her little boy. ‘Hey, kiddo! Come give your mum a big cuddle. I’ve missed you!’

  He put his arms round her neck and hugged her tight, giving her those kisses she’d been missing since the second she’d left him in L.A., just a couple of days ago.

  ‘You look pretty, Mommy.’ He smiled at her, and India couldn’t help but notice that the bigger he got, the more like Michael he became. Those same blue eyes, that same smile. Her beautiful baby boy.

  Bobby sat up and looked at India, raising an eyebrow. ‘You’ve got him trained.’

  She stuck her tongue out at him again, and Ethan did the same, making her laugh out loud.

  ‘You’re your mother’s son alright, Ethan Walsh,’ Bobby sighed, sliding down from his stool and going over to the coffee machine to make a fresh pot.

  ‘Can I see Daddy soon, Mommy?’ Ethan asked, climbing up onto the stool she’d vacated, looking at her with wide, hopeful eyes.

  ‘Of course you can see him, baby. But he isn’t here.’ She looked at Reece out of the corner of her eye as he stood by the French Windows that led out onto a private terrace and pool, his arms folded as he watched her intently. He was waiting for her reaction, but he wasn’t going to get the one he might be expecting. ‘He’s next door, in his own villa.’

  ‘Come on, Munchkin,’ Bobby smiled, lifting Ethan down off the stool. ‘I’ll take you to see your daddy. I know how much he likes a visit from me early in the morning. It’s his guilty pleasure.’

  India looked at Bobby and smiled, mouthing ‘thank you’, watching as Ethan happily followed his Godfather out of the kitchen, talking excitedly about everything he’d been doing back in L.A.

  ‘He misses his dad,’ Reece said, walking over to her, absent-mindedly picking up the printed-out information on Dominic MacDonald.

  ‘Yeah, well, he sees him more than most other kids of divorced parents see their fathers. Especially in Hollywood.’

  Reece fixed her with a stare. ‘Do you?’

  She stared back at her famous father through narrowed eyes. ‘Do I what?’

  ‘Miss Ethan’s father?’

  She laughed, a slightly cynical laugh. ‘I’m not even gonna answer that question.’

  But Reece hadn’t missed the brief, fleeting look that had passed across her face. It spoke volumes without her having to say a thing. ‘So, being here is okay, is it?’

  ‘What are you getting at,
Dad? It’s way too early for this kind of cryptic conversation.’

  ‘You and Michael…’

  She fixed him with an even harder stare, looking right into his eyes, just so he got the message loud and clear because she was tired of feeling like she had to prove it time and time again. It was becoming exhausting. ‘There is no me and Michael. Okay? If you must know, I saw him last night, he tried to make a move, and I walked away. I walked away, Dad, because I felt nothing. He was right there, so close to me, telling me he wanted me back, and I felt nothing. So, there is no me and Michael. Not anymore.’

  Reece didn’t know whether to breathe a sigh of relief or feel nervous that this was just the beginning of a long road ahead, but if she was telling the truth then she’d at least proved one thing to herself – that she really was a stronger person now.

  He decided not to push the subject. She seemed to have a grip on things – for now – so making something out of it wasn’t the wisest thing he could do.

  ‘So, what’s this all about then?’ He handed her the sheet of paper he was holding and she looked down at the picture of her soon-to-be-new co-star.

  ‘Research, Dad.’ She put the piece of paper down and reached up to kiss his cheek, smiling at him. ‘And you should know how important that is. I’ve got to go get ready now, okay? I’ll see you on-set.’

  His beautiful daughter with the damaged past. He could only hope that, this time, she really had put it all behind her and was ready to move on. But even if she had, he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop worrying about her. And, looking down at the picture of Dominic MacDonald, he couldn’t help wondering if this really was nothing more than just innocent research, or if it was the start of something more than that. He didn’t know. Was Dominic MacDonald a distraction for his daughter? Was that what she was looking for? Something – someone – to take her mind off Michael? Reece always thought the worst, even when there was no evidence to prove anything otherwise. But at least, this time, he was close enough to see just what was going on. If anything was going on. But he was going to make it his job to find out.