Comfort 4: Command Performance

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Comfort 4: Command Performance Page 18

by Annabel Joseph


  “I thought you liked being my girlfriend.”

  “I do, but I want to be myself too. I want to work. That was the whole point of us getting together. That’s why all of this happened.”

  “Oh, I see.” Mason stared at the silhouette of her back in the moonlight, feeling numb. “Since you haven’t gotten what you wanted out of our deal, it’s time for you to bail. I get it.”

  “No, you don’t get it,” she snapped, turning to him. “It’s not just my selfish desire for fame. Some narcissistic need to be cast in roles. I need money, Mason! I know you can’t understand that since you have it coming out of your ears. Above and beyond wanting to be good at what I do, I need to make a living. I want to do what I trained to do, what I’ve wanted to do my whole life. I want to be able to support my dad, my grandma. I need to be able to support them damn soon, or my dad’s going to lose his house and Grammy’s going to have to go to some second-rate care facility.”

  “Your dad? Your Grammy?” Mason grabbed his head in frustration. “Why are you supporting your dad? Why can’t your dad support himself? Why can’t he look after your grandma? Why is all this your responsibility?”

  “Because my dad’s an alcoholic!”

  Her tortured words carried across the stillness of the Malibu hills. Mason blinked. “He is?”

  “Yes, he is,” she said. “And I don’t know how to fix him. I’ve tried.”

  It struck Mason that Miri was the mature one between the two of them, and he was the child, despite the fact he was older, more successful, more sexually experienced. While he moaned about the media and his petty relationship issues, Miri was dealing with real problems and real heartbreak in the real world.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this? About your dad? About the money problems, about your grandma?”

  “They’re not your problems.”

  “You still could have asked for help. I would have helped you if you’d told me. Now I feel like a piece of shit.”

  “I don’t want your help,” she said. “I don’t want to drag you down.”

  “People in relationships help each other. They confide in one another about their problems.”

  She shook her head, half-turning away from him. “People in relationships,” she said with a bitter laugh. “I don’t know if you can call what we have a relationship. I don’t know what it is. Part of me’s afraid it’s a clusterfuck I need to get out of before my entire life’s destroyed.”

  His heart stuttered. Such cruel words. “How can you say we don’t have a relationship? It’s not a clusterfuck. I care about you. I love you. How can you say I’m destroying your life?” He’d had no idea she was keeping all this vitriol inside, but then, how often did he have time to really sit and talk to her? Draw out the things on her mind? “I’m sorry about the stardom, the photographers, the craziness. But Jesus, baby, I want things to work. I don’t want to lose you. I love you, Miri, and we do have a real relationship. Hell, you’ve changed my life. I’d give up everything—the movies, the sex parties, even the BDSM—if that’s what I had to do to be with you.”

  She shook her head, horrified. “I don’t want you to do that.”

  “Then what? How do I keep you?” He reached out for her and she let him pull her close. This couldn’t be the end of them. He thought he was resigned to losing her eventually, but now that the moment was upon them, both his heart and his mind rebelled. “I don’t care,” he said against her ear. “I don’t care about any of it but the way you make me feel. Could you really walk away from me? Look back and remember what we had as a ‘clusterfuck’? Really?”

  He felt her tears against his cheek. “No. Of course not.”

  “Then why did you say that?”

  Her fingers scrabbled on his back as she buried her face in his neck. “I don’t know. Because I have to make myself believe.”

  “Believe what?”

  “That we don’t belong together.”

  His arms tightened around her. “No. I won’t let this happen. We can’t let them win, the media, the paparazzi, the haters. You know I love you, and you love me. We have to put the rest of it away, compartmentalize it somewhere outside of you and me and our love. And if you can’t work, if I have to give things up, if I lose everything and can’t get a meeting with a single person in this town, it doesn’t matter. I have enough money. I can take care of you and me for a lifetime, your dad and Grammy too.”

  “But Mason—”

  “I mean it. You and I could leave right now, go to Cap Camil and live our entire lives on what I have. And be happy. Together.”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way. We can’t just run away. You shouldn’t have to give things up to be with me.”

  “Neither should you!” He was falling apart now, shaking from ten years worth of pent up anger and frustration. So much loss and heartbreak, and the never-ending scrutiny of the entire world. “Miri, don’t leave. Marry me. Marry me and make everyone choke on it. We’ll go to Cap Camil or any place you want, and hide and be together, and you’ll have all the money you need for the rest of your life.”

  She pushed him away. “It’s not the money, Mason! I don’t want you for your money.”

  He trapped her face in his hands. “I know that, damn it. Don’t you see? That’s why I need you. Do you know how long it’s been since a woman loved me for me, not my money or my goddamn fame? I’m not letting you go. I can’t. Please stay with me. Marry me. I couldn’t survive if you left.” Her eyes were wide. He knew he was scaring her with the intensity of his outburst, but the idea of living without her... “Please, Miri. Please, please, please,” he repeated over and over.

  “Shh, okay,” Their foreheads touched. Miri stroked his neck, his cheeks. “Okay, I’ll stay with you. You don’t have to marry me to make me stay.”

  His fingers curled into the blonde silk of her hair. “I want to marry you. I don’t want you to be able to walk away from me when things get tough, because things will always be tough. I want us to make a commitment to ride out those tough times together. I want what we have to be real.”

  She stared at him. Maybe he was being crazy, but he meant what he said. He wanted to marry her. He wanted to spend the rest of his shallow, empty life with her because he was afraid otherwise he’d die a broken man. He wanted someone to share his pain and frustrations, someone who could smile and make the bad stuff go away.

  “What about these parties?” she asked. “I don’t think I’ll ever change my mind about them.”

  He composed his face into hard, determined lines. “Listen to me. I don’t care about anything—anything—on this earth as much as I care about you. These parties are nothing compared to what you give me. I’ll never regret anything I give up for you. My life’s an embarrassment of riches as it is.”

  They both turned as Kai appeared at the edge of the patio. “Hey, guys. Is everything okay?”

  Mason looked at Miri and she gazed back at him. He saw the moment she made her decision. A slow, dazed smile spread across her face. “Yeah, everything’s okay,” she said. “I think we might be getting married.”

  “Not might,” Mason corrected. “We are. Miri and I are getting married.”

  Kai looked shocked. “That’s...that’s awesome. Wow. That’s so great. Well, when you guys are ready, come down and tell everyone so we can celebrate. Without sex,” he added with a glance at Miri.

  Kai left and Mason squeezed her tight. They kissed, a long slow kiss for near-endings and new beginnings. Her body was his amulet, and their love was a spell that nothing work-related or fame-related could break, not if they didn’t let it.

  “I’ll make you happy,” he promised. “Whatever it takes, wherever it takes us, I swear I’ll make you happy. As long as we’re together, everything will be okay.”

  Chapter Fourteen: Prison

  “Miss Durand?”

  Miri turned in the small tea shop at the voice of her bodyguard. She had two of them now every time she we
nt out.

  “Miss Durand, the crowd’s growing pretty big out there. Are you finished?”

  “Just a minute.” She conferred with the girl behind the counter about mixing the leaves she’d selected, mainly for their purported relaxation qualities. When she had her prettily tied packets, she handed over Mason’s credit card. His card had solved a lot of problems for Miri. His money had paid off her dad’s mortgage and debts and also paid the cost of Grammy’s care well into the future. It felt wrong, but he wouldn’t let her refuse his help. They had two fights about it, and that was that. He had the money and he intended for her to use it.

  Tea wasn’t that expensive. Miri imagined the bodyguards were.

  “Ready, Miss Durand?”

  “You can call me Miri,” she repeated for the umpteenth time. The burly gentlemen ignored her, talking on their headphones to the driver outside.

  “We’re heading out,” the taller one barked. “Be ready.”

  She didn’t know their names because they changed from day to day. She knew some of their faces but they were never in the mood to chat. They were strong, silent, hyper-vigilant. She’d never needed a bodyguard as a child star, but she needed one now that she was wearing Mason Cooke’s sparkling five-carat marquise-cut diamond engagement ring. Big, big news. Huge media circus that wouldn’t die. The bodyguards shuttled her through a throng of paparazzi and into the backseat of a sedan with tinted windows. She checked her phone as the car pulled into traffic and started toward home.

  “Will you take me to a friend’s house on the way?” Miri asked, reciting Nell’s address.

  The bodyguard beside her looked at the one in the front seat. “That’s not on today’s itinerary, ma’am.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes, it’s a last minute kind of get-together. But I’d like to see her. Can we please go?”

  “Of course.” His “of course” sounded like “you are being totally unreasonable”, but Miri didn’t care. The Grays didn’t live that far from Mason, and their house was gated so it wasn’t like the bodyguards would be fending off maniacs the whole time. Miri wished she could tell the security guys to kiss off, but she couldn’t. The truth was, she needed them. She was mobbed now wherever she went, by autograph seekers, by photographers, by reporters. When she and Mason went public with their engagement a couple months ago, it had sparked the nation’s imagination. The sweet girl and the sex pervert, headed for wedded bliss.

  Her father wasn’t blissful in the least. Accepting Mason’s charity had been a blow to his pride, but he’d had no choice. Accepting Mason as his future son-in-law was worse, because he blamed him for Miri’s now-defunct career. Her dad was drinking more than ever, partly because she wasn’t there to monitor him and partly because money for liquor was easier to come by now. Her pleas for him to sober up fell on deaf ears. Reporters and paparazzi hounded him, which he used as another excuse for his excessive drinking. Alcoholics were always great with excuses.

  But she and Mason were getting married. She had to remember that, the joyful side of things. You know I love you, and you love me. We have to put the rest of it away. She remembered his words when things felt too hectic and crazy to her. There was bad stuff to deal with, but she always had the solace of his love. He made time to see her, even when he was running ragged with his shooting schedule. He set aside hours to make love to her, long, impassioned sessions in his bedroom or the dungeon downstairs.

  Miri’s mood brightened as they turned down the drive to Nell and Jeremy’s house. After the birthday party debacle, she thought all Mason’s friends would give her the cold shoulder. On the contrary, they seemed to try even harder to include her in their group—the G-rated events, anyway. Miri met Nell now and again for tea; the women tried to outdo one another with fancy designer mixtures. Honestly, the tea didn’t even matter to Miri. It was Nell’s friendship she valued, and Nell’s freely given advice, because the superstar’s wife had been through all this before.

  “Oh, you look wiped,” Nell said, embracing her at the front door. “Come in. You guys can come in too and grab whatever you want in the kitchen.”

  The wide-shouldered bodyguards and driver shuffled off like obedient children. Nell was so comfortable around bodyguards, around all the myriad service types she dealt with every day. Miri hoped she eventually got to that point, where it all felt easy and natural to her. While her security team huddled at a breakfast nook in the corner with some Cokes and sandwiches, Miri helped Nell set up the gourmet tea press at the counter bar.

  “So how are things?” Nell asked, going to the cupboard for two cups and saucers. “How’s the wedding planning coming along?”

  “It’s coming.” Miri detailed what had been decided so far, by other people of course. It wasn’t like she could run around town picking out invitations and visiting reception sites. She talked about which designers were fighting over creating her dress, how many tiers the cake would have, and the sleek black and white color scheme the wedding planner had settled on for their late-December holiday-themed event. Nell was encouraging and polite, even though she had to be bored to tears. She even ran off to find her photo albums and talk about her wedding to Jeremy. “Tons of stuff went wrong,” she said, laughing. “I can’t even explain what a circus it was, but none of it mattered, because I was marrying the love of my life.”

  It was impossible not to be affected by the adoration in her tone. “That’s so great,” Miri said, sipping her tea. With a sigh, she put it down. “But you know what I’d really like? To run off somewhere, like Cap Camil, and do it there with a couple friends as witnesses. You and Jeremy maybe. And just lie on the beach and be happy and married and all alone.”

  “Aw, that would be nice,” Nell agreed. “But ‘all alone’ will be harder and harder to come by, you’ll find.”

  Miri let out a long, low breath, glancing over at her security force in the corner. “Honestly, Nell. How do you cope with it? The craziness? The madness of fame?”

  Nell looked surprised. “You were famous before. You and your sister.”

  “But we didn’t have fame like this. We were kids, people left us alone. My sister actually died seeking the attention she wanted but never got. It’s too bad Maddy’s not here now. She’d love this fame and paparazzi stuff, she’d be eating it up. She would have been perfect for Mason.”

  Her friend frowned. “Don’t talk like that. You are perfect for Mason. He adores you, and he’s lucky he found you, because his last wife was a heartless bitch. It was really difficult watching him try so hard to make her happy, when we all knew he was never going to be enough for her. No one could ever be enough for her. Have you seen this, by the way?”

  Nell pulled up a web page, a news site with Jessamine’s photo splashed across the top. She was surrounded by photographers, hunched over, cradling an infant. “Just adopted a daughter from Mali. I’m sure it’s a stunt.”

  Miri looked at the statuesque starlet holding the adorable baby girl. “Even Jessamine Jackson wouldn’t adopt a child as a publicity stunt.”

  “Oh, she would. I promise you she would. Mason’s lucky he got away from her when he did.”

  “He left her? I thought she left him.”

  Nell looked down into her cup. “He never told you the story of how they broke up?”

  Miri shrugged. “We don’t talk about her much. Mason gets antsy when we talk about her.” She looked up into her friend’s eyes. “You don’t think he still has a thing for her, do you?”

  Nell shook her head firmly. “The only thing he has for Jess at this point is deep and abiding hate. Honestly, don’t give her a second thought. Tell me what’s in this tea. I really like it.”

  “A little jasmine, cinnamon, and St. Johns Wort. Oh, and valerian, to help me relax.”

  Nell’s eyes clouded with concern. “Isn’t St. Johns Wort for depression?”

  “I’m not depressed,” Miri said quickly. “I’m happy, I swear. I’m just stressed about having to sneak ar
ound and hide from people, and rely on bodyguards so I don’t get mowed down by some crowd. I can’t leave the house and go anywhere by myself. I don’t know how Mason has lived like this for so long, or how you and Jeremy deal with it.”

  Nell patted her shoulder. “Things die down. People will lose interest after a while. It’s because you two just got engaged. It will peak around the time of the wedding and then you’ll be boring old married people and no one will care. Until you have a baby, of course.”

  “Oh, God.” Miri glanced over at Nell’s laptop, at the photo of Jessamine and her adopted infant mobbed by photographers. “This is no way to live.”

  “No, it’s not. But you’ll have each other.”

  As if on cue, Jeremy came strolling into the kitchen, slinging a stack of dialogue pages on the counter. He leaned down and kissed his wife. “I missed you all day long, baby.”

  “I missed you all day long too.”

  Oh, so disgustingly sweet.

  “Hi, Miri,” he said, smiling her way. His eyes lit on the pile of albums beside her. “Oh, no. Did my wife strong-arm you into looking at our wedding photos?”

  Miri laughed. “I wanted to. It seems like you guys had an incredible day.”

  Jeremy shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I was drunk through the whole thing. Wasted out of my mind.”

  Nell shook her head with an annoyed tsk. “He’s lying, Miri.”

  “Yes, I’m lying. I had to stay sober so Nell didn’t slip from my evil clutches at the last minute.” He grabbed his wife in a headlock and pretended to gnaw at her neck. She shot Miri a comical look of forbearance.

  “Speaking of evil clutches,” Jeremy said as he let her go. “Jess adopted a baby.”

  “I know.” Nell made a face. “Poor kid.”

  “Oh, she’ll be a good mom.”

  Nell turned to Miri. “I don’t know why, but my husband seems to think Jessamine isn’t the wretched human being she pretends to be.”

  “She’s misunderstood,” he insisted as he picked up an apple from the counter. “Jess has a heart. It’s black, but it’s there. Anyway, she’ll hire good nannies for it. Her. The baby, whatever she’s calling it. I guess we should send a gift,” he said to his wife.

 

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