“Maybe I’ve learnt not to be so naive and trusting,” she said harshly. Then she sighed, and said more softly, “But since when has love ever been a fair fight?”
Matt laughed. “I hope you win whatever you wish, Zaira. I’ll see you at One Fifth at eight, then? If Brad calls I’ll say Zoe arranged it.”
“Great, I’m off shopping for a dress now. And I think I’ve got an idea for a new novel, but I’m not sure about the ending yet,” she said wryly.
“Well, your bank balance is pretty healthy now, and I’m sure that you only owe another five thousand, so go out and enjoy yourself. You deserve it after all you’ve been through for the last year and a half.”
Zaira glanced at her watch and saw she still had plenty of time before her first class at nine, so she got started on the synopsis of her new book, which oddly enough started with a meeting in a lobby.
Then she wrote out some lecture notes for her units on Shakespeare, and soon she had finished a scheme of work for the rest of the term, which she would type up later when she went home.
The battle stations were clear. Now all she had to do was finish the screenplay before Saturday, when she would confront Brad with the truth once Hamlet was over.
After her lectures finished at twelve, Zaira rushed uptown to the more expensive boutiques in an attempt to find a suitable dress for herself. Her suits were well-cut, but even so she saw several of the sales ladies shake their heads in despair at finding something glamorous for an absent minded professor.
Finally she found the perfect dress hanging in the window of a very exclusive gown shop. She felt completely intimidated as she eyed the other customers, who were all swathed from head to toe in fur.
“That fox was probably electrocuted, you know,” Zaira muttered under her breath. The elderly harridan eyed her with contempt.
“Can I help you, madam?” the woman behind the counter inquired, almost as if she thought it would be a waste of time.
“Yes, please, the black velvet gown in the window in an eight, quickly,” Zaira said arrogantly. She had the satisfaction of seeing the dismissive woman scurry to fetch the dress.
It fitted beautifully. It had long tight lace sleeves, which began at the sweetheart neckline of the dress. The bodice was tight-fitting, and pushed her breasts up to an enticing curve, while at the same time hugging in her narrow waist. The rest of the gown swept down to the floor in a long cascade of black velvet, which whispered seductively as she swept up and down the floor in front of the mirror.
“It certainly suits, madam,” the woman replied in awe, for the dress did indeed seem almost made for her.
“If madam would like the name of a good hairdresser?” she suggested politely. Though Zaira was sorely tempted, she shook her head. She could have a new dress, but couldn’t do anything with her hair, or else Brad might get suspicious. He had never really seen Zaira Darcy with her hair down or glasses off, and wouldn’t now until Saturday night.
“No, thank you, the dress is fine. I’ll take it.”
Once she had changed, the woman took the dress to be wrapped. While she waited, Zaira spotted some low black suede pumps and an elegant evening bag with a pearl clasp which she decided would be perfect as well. The woman beamed at her when she paid for it all in cash, and showed her out the door like royalty, much to the annoyance of the old woman in the fox fur.
Zaira was feeling jubilant, and went back to the apartment to continue her work on the screenplay. As she came in the door, she heard the phone ring, and knew it would be Brad.
She heard his voice on the other end of the line, but he didn’t sound his usual cheerful self.
“Hi, it’s me, I’ve rung Matt Wolf, and he said for us to meet him at One Fifth at eight, if that’s all right.”
“Fine, Brad. Do you want to come here first, or shall I meet you there?”
“Well, I was going to come home, but I’m at rehearsals, and Zoe hasn’t turned up. She hasn’t rung or anything, has she?”
Zaira smiled to herself, and said, “No, no word from her.”
“Damn, I need to see her right away, but I’m tied up here.”
She heard him breath heavily down the phone, and knew his stress level was rising rapidly. “I’ll just do as much as I can with the others and see you at eight.”
“Any message for Zoe if she rings?” Zaira asked wickedly. “Should I get her to ring you at the theatre?”
Brad hesitated for a moment, then said, “No, it’s nothing that can be taken care of over the phone. Just tell her I need to see her straight away to sort some things out, and that she can come to the theatre or the restaurant.”
Brad rang off, and Zaira’s curiosity was overwhelming. What was so urgent? Something about the project? Or maybe his father had persuaded him to go back to LA?
Zaira was furious at the thought of all her hard work going down the drain. She returned to the study with a sense of burning determination. She was going to finish the screenplay today if it killed her. She wanted to make Brad realize that this project meant everything to her, just as it had once done to him before Cormac had started to interfere.
Zaira turned on her computer, and soon she was ruthlessly slashing out parts, adding others, and working as though her life depending on it in a frenzied burst of activity. She did not pause to reflect or debate, but worked on the script continuously with a cold rationalism which even surprised herself.
Zaira paused only to make a huge pot of coffee before resuming her efforts. As she sipped a cup, she reflected for a fleeting moment that maybe Cormac had been right after all. Her price was high. It was nothing less than happiness with Brad. She loved him beyond reason, and was ruthlessly determined that he would not go back to LA. Or, if he did, it would be with her by his side.
As Zaira got up to check the printer several hours later, she wondered briefly what her life would be like if she did go to Hollywood to live with Brad. Would she be able to fit in? They came from very different worlds. But why should he be ashamed of her? She was intelligent, talented, well-educated. While it was true that she did not have money now, she had the ability to make money if she wished through her writing.
People might find out about her past with Jonathan, but that had not been her fault. He had been the criminal, not her. Others might gossip that she only wanted Brad for his money, but then she could prove them wrong there by continuing to work hard in her career. She could lecture at any one of a number of universities in California, and continue to churn out bestsellers. No one had to know she was poor, or if they did, she could simply point out that it was her own integrity which had made her so.
Zaira knew it would be glamorous out in LA, but then Brad seemed a genuine person with fairly simple tastes. He did not seem to enjoy parties, if his behavior at the university function was anything to go by. He had settled down to life at the university and in the simple apartment quickly. He worked quietly with her for hours on end, and was always thoughtful and kind. Surely he couldn’t be that different in Hollywood. Surely all the nonsense printed in the gossip columns was just that, nonsense to sell their papers.
Zaira worked on at a furious pace, and as she neared completion of the screenplay, her confidence grew. She knew in her heart of hearts that the screenplay was good, the best thing she had ever done in her life, and she wanted Brad to be proud of her. As she typed “The End” with a flourish on the last page, and flicked the buttons for it to print, she looked at her watch and realized with dismay that it was already ten to eight.
“Damn,” she muttered, and left the machine running while she dashed into the bedroom and pulled her dresser open. She found a pair of silky black stockings, and a lacy black bra and matching slip. She pulled the dress off the hanger where she had placed as soon as she had got in from the shop, and donned it quickly.
While she zipped it, Zaira slipped on her new shoes. Then she went into the bathroom to put in her clear contact lenses and her fake spectacles. She wanted to be a
ble to watch Brad closely tonight for any signs of double dealing on his part. She quickly redid her hair into a neat but rather fluffy swirl on the top of her head, and raced back out to fetch her bag. As a quick afterthought, she looped her usual pearl earrings into her lobes, and then ran down the steps of the apartment building, hoping for any sign of a cab.
There wasn’t one in sight, so Zaira scooped up her long dress with one hand and ran as fast as she could across the park, exciting much comment as she raced past. She hoped she would have enough time to check her hair in the ladies’ room before going in, but as she neared the restaurant at a slightly more sedate pace, she could see Brad standing outside looking around for her anxiously.
“There you are!” Brad said with a huge smile, which suddenly turned to a frown as he studied her closely.
“What’s the matter? It’s the best dress I have,” Zaira said, stung by his seeming displeasure.
“No, it’s not the dress,” he said shortly, and then said, “It’s um, well, just that I was a bit worried about your being so late,” in a rather flat voice, as he moved to put his arm around her.
Zaira felt a tug at her hair, and Brad say in a hard voice, “Oh dear, look what I’ve done.”
Zaira’s hair tumbled down around her shoulders, and he felt Brad flick it into a mass of wave which cascaded down her back.
“I’m so sorry, Zaira, it was terribly clumsy of me. I’ll just take out the pins and you can wear it down. Come on now, Matt Wolf is waiting for us.”
Before she could protest that she wanted to go to the ladies’ to re-do her hair, he had whisked her into the restaurant and seated her next to Matt and across from himself.
“I’m so sorry Mr. Wolf,” she laughed shakily. “But I was working on the screenplay and completely lost track of the time,” she added in her crispest English accent, and held out her hand in a formal way.
“Quite all right, Miss Darcy. You're to be commended for your enormous dedication to the project,” he said with a warm smile, his eye twinkling with mirth.
Her stomach gave a lurch, and she prayed Matt wouldn’t give her away inadvertently.
Brad moved to pat her on the shoulder and say, “It’s amazing how hard she works,” but again, he seemed very awkward this evening, for his fingers hooked onto her spectacles again, and they dropped onto her lap.
“Gosh, I don’t know what’s come over me this evening,” Brad said, looking astonished, though his emerald eyes were as hard as the stones they resembled.
“It’s all this rushing around. But then you’re eyes are probably tired, Zaira, after all that work today, so just leave them off,” he urged. He took them out of her nerveless fingers and put them in his pocket.
Amid her feeble protests that she needed them, he shook his head.
“Just relax and enjoy yourself. I get the feeling I’m seeing a whole new you tonight." Brad smiled, his teeth glinting wolfishly.
Zaira began to panic at the thought he might have finally recognized her.
But he turned to the waiter and placed their order, and seemed perfectly charming and at ease.
Zaira began to relax again. Surely if Brad suspected, he wouldn’t sit there chatting so happily as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
But soon the conversation took a dangerous turn, and Zaira was once again on her guard.
“So Matt, how long have you know Zoe?” Brad asked conversationally.
Matt answered, “Since even before we went to university here together.”
“That’s interesting, so she went here with you, and Zaira?”
Matt cleared his throat, and Zaira didn’t know here to look.
“And Zoe’s interest in acting?” Brad continued. “Did she always do that?”
“Er, no, it’s a recent hobby, I think,” Matt managed to get out.
“Have you ever done any acting, Zaira? I’m sure you’d be quite good at it if you tried,” Brad said, and smiled down at her again with a flash of white teeth which seemed almost sinister.
“No, I've never really acted very much, some at university,” she muttered, and tried to concentrate on the food in front of her. She had suddenly lost her appetite, and gulped the wine to ease the painful lump in her throat.
But then Brad began to talk of other things, like his life in Hollywood, and in spite of her fears she could not help but listen attentively to all the things he told her about himself and his life in California. She had been wondering only a few hours before what his life was like, and now here he was laying the whole of his life open before her.
“I have a house on the beach at Malibu, on some pretty spectacular cliffs, just next to my father’s. Dad and I used to get long well, but he can be very domineering at times. After my mother and sister were killed in a car accident three years ago, he began to get even more cantankerous.
“It was almost as if he had lost two people he loved, and the pain was so great that he never wanted to go through it again. So rather than us getting closer, he pushed me away, maybe through the fear of losing me as well, one way or the other. I’ve tried not to disappoint him, and I've never come close to having a marriage or children until now.”
Zaira felt sick as she heard him say he was near to being married, and put her fork down loudly on her plate with a clatter that made both men turn to look at her.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “Go on.”
“I’m hoping this project will make Cormac see my worth once and for all, and maybe get us closer together again. Maybe my wife can show the crotchety old man that no one can live without love. It’s taken me nearly thirty years to find it out, so maybe Dad can learn from her too.”
“Well, congratulations, Brad,” Matt said in a hearty tone, but he looked uneasily at Zaira, who seemed close to tears.
They drank their coffee in silence, and then Brad said, “Well, Matt, now that you and Zaira have got together, I'll leave it to the two of you what contract you wish to draw up for the publishers. And now, if you'll excuse us, we both have lectures to give tomorrow, so we’ll be off home.”
Before Zaira could say a word, he placed a wad of money on the table, and took her firmly by the elbow. He hailed a cab at the corner, and pushed her in.
“I’m sorry, but it has been a long day, and I just want to get home,” Brad declared, taking her hand firmly, his voice brooking no refusal.
Zaira leaned helplessly against him in the taxi, numb with all she had learned. He was leaving her, getting married, going back home to California forever. It was too late. She had lost him.
Yet despite Brad's talk about settling down soon, he caressed her fingers with his own, gently yet possessively, and kissed her softly as the car pulled up to the curb. All the way up the elevator he kissed her, stroking her hair and her eyelids, and cheeks, nuzzling her ear playfully until she was on fire.
He kissed and caressed her with his hands all the way down the corridor, and ran one hand up and down her back, pressing her closely to him in an intimate embrace which left her in no doubt of his desires. With his other hand he unlocked the door, and switched on the light.
Pleasure turned to pain as Brad slammed her up against the wall and ground out, “The game is over, Zaira, Zoe, whatever you’re called! I want the truth, and I want it now.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Zaira gasped at the fury in Brad’s green eyes, and she stammered out, “It—it wasn’t a game, it just happened.”
“Just like our making love yesterday just happened? No, it don’t believe it! The clothes, the hair, the accent, even the eye color, were all deliberately changed. It was a flawless performance, apart from your earrings, the only slip you’ve made all these days. It didn’t just happen! You deliberately tricked me at every turn, and I want to know why now!” Brad shouted, shaking her.
Zaira trembled as his fingers bit into her soft flesh roughly, and her eyes filled with tears at the mental as well as physical pain Brad was inflicting upon her.
“Do y
ou have any idea what you’ve put me through? I’ve been going crazy! Was it all just for the money or what?” he grated harshly.
Before she could reply, he kissed her angrily, before finally letting her go.
Brad threw himself down on the sofa, and she could see him shaking with rage. Zaira clung to the wall, and knew this would be her only chance to tell him the truth. He might not listen, he might get up and walk out of the door forever, but in spite of her pride, she had to try. She braced herself and moved over towards the sofa.
She knelt down by his feet, and said pleadingly, ”Brad, I know what it seems like, but just think about it for a minute. You and I bumped into each other completely innocently in the foyer that day, and then at the party in the evening. You told me you wanted my help to persuade Zoe Dominick to let you film the book.
“It just seemed to good to be true, after everything I had been through for the past eighteen months. It seemed the perfect solution to all my financial problems, but I couldn’t be sure whether or not you were trustworthy. I was touched by your sincerity when you chatted to me that night at the party, and I had already made up my mind to let you have the rights before you ever came to the theatre.”
“So you were just playing a game with me after that. Well, if it was all so innocent, then why the disguise!” Brad shouted.
She grabbed his hand and held it, forcing him to listen.
“Then Matt had made the arrangements for the meeting, and you met me in my costume and wig, and didn’t recognize me at all as the girl from the night before. I was a bit miffed really, that you took me for such a frump, that you couldn’t see that we were one and the same person.”
Brad opened his mouth to argue, but Zaira continued, “And then you offered me the consultation, the acting, and the screenplay to Zaira Darcy. It all seemed too good to be true, and I was cautious, as anyone would be with so much on the line. By the time I knew I could trust you, it had all got a bit too complicated. And I do admit it, after everything I've been through with my soon to be ex husband, the money was too good to be missed. But it wasn't only that. The chance to turn my own book into our screenplay for the amazing film I know you're going to make of 'The Dark Lady' was a dream come true. So I played along with everything, and even got the added bonus of you offering to play Hamlet.”
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