Tess loved this town. Sure, the L.A. area could beat you down and crush your dreams into pulp. But you didn’t have to let it. Look at Aaron. Still optimistic that his original compositions would sell one day and catch on big—or at least be heard and enjoyed. That was all he asked. To do his creative best and have his work appreciated.
Why couldn’t she settle for that? Why did she grasp for the moon and stars—or rather, a ten-million-dollar mansion and her own million-dollar bank account?
“Damn good hot dog!” He thrust one into her hand. Aaron’s mouth leaked juice from one side as he coaxed her into taking a bite from hers. “Forget the diet. Dig in. Enjoy.”
She wriggled her nose in disgust, but to please her longtime pal, nibbled around the edges of the hot, spicy wiener. With a half-full mouth, she mumbled, “Skin, I’ve got an idea. A way to promote your new musical—”
“Hold on, it’s not ready yet.”
“Maybe not for Broadway.” The juice dribbled down his chin, making her impatient and motherly all at the same time. She reached up and wiped his chin with a paper napkin. Aaron was such a mess!
“We’ll test out your songs, see if they click with our audience.” She elbowed his arm. “Who knows? There might be a theater producer on that ship.”
Aaron chewed for a full minute. Silently. Thoughtfully. Until Tess thought she’d blow her stack. It suddenly struck her that maybe Aaron was afraid he’d disappoint her, that his life’s work might be found lacking. He’d played a couple of the melodies for her, but not the entire twelve-song score that he was working on. A writer friend of his had helped him with the book and script. Aaron, the music and lyrics.
She gave him another encouraging squeeze on his sinewy bicep. So nice to touch a young man’s body for a change. Porter’s arms felt soft, like the flesh of an old, sedentary man. Uncomfortable thoughts, she realized with a start. Oh well, the price you paid for millions…
She flushed that line of thinking from her mind and said, “C’mon, I’ve heard some of it. I think it’s your best work so far. They’ll love those melodies. You can talk them through the storyline, stopping here and there, and we’ll sing the best ones. What they don’t love, you can work on and make better. What d’ya say?”
His cheeks bulging, he finally nodded and swallowed. Satisfied, she turned to gaze again at the ocean. Two surfers paddled furiously to catch head-on a cresting wave. They emerged on the other side, laughing and heading out further. Sunlight glittered on the water’s constantly moving surface. Foam splattered on the wet sand.
“Twelve days, Red. Together every day, working nearly every night. Just like old times.”
His voice sounding rough, she darted him a surprised glance. Aaron was watching her intently, a strange look on his face.
The memory of her singing for Aaron’s and Mac’s high school band one summer made her both cringe and laugh inside. They’d toured the California county fairs with Aaron’s parents, played for peanuts, had slept in a tent alongside the Petersons’ van and had eaten mostly county-fair crap. By the end of their month-long tour, she was ready to kill them both. But the experience had taught her two vital lessons: One, she could make a living with her voice and looks. And the other, music would forever be her life.
“Oh, I remember…oh, how I long to forget.”
“You remember how close we came to doing it…you and me? You were just a kid…all of fifteen…but even then, you could dazzle a guy.”
“Ha, and you were an eighteen year-old punk who thought he knew it all. Good thing Mac threatened to kick our asses when he caught us making out. I would’ve become a pathetic, teenaged drop-out mommy living on welfare. Your parents would’ve killed you. No, disowned you first, then killed you. They were sure happy to send you off to college by the end of that summer. And that, as they say, was the end of that.”
“Yep, I thought I had all the answers.”
“Me, too. When you left, I felt so lost. Then Mac left for the Navy. I had some wild days, I was so lost and scared. On the bright side, you got Mac and me hooked on music. That saved us both, you know that?”
“Yeah.” He’d raised his hand from her back to the nape of her neck. She felt a chill and shivered. His long fingers began to stroke her nape in a way that reminded her of their long ago, aborted romance. The silence dragged out, which made Tess raise her eyes to him. He’d grown serious, but as soon as she looked at him, he grinned and withdrew his hand.
“Think we’ll hate each other by the end of this cruise?”
She laughed. “No doubt in my mind, Skin. No doubt whatsoever.”
Chapter Three
Her cab braked to a stop at the curb. Tess got out and gazed, transfixed, at the huge passenger terminal at San Pedro harbor. The warehouse-sized building spilled over with cruise passengers and their baggage. The parking lot streamed with cars.
It was noon and she was late, thanks to a last-minute verbal altercation with Porter over her cruise gig. She’d inquired about the curvy blonde, whom he’d shrugged off and said, “Just a broad looking for a job.”
The job part, Tess believed—as in blow job. She’d swallowed her pride and suspicions and had said nothing more about it, only to be assaulted seconds later by Porter’s incessant protests over the cruise. Finally, she’d stormed out and, one by one, dragged her two large Pullmans down the spiral staircase. The lard-ass didn’t even volunteer to help her.
Aaron was pacing the sidewalk and rushed over as soon as he saw her.
“You’re late! God, Red, I didn’t know what to think.” He yanked off his shades and set about helping the cabbie unload her suitcases. “Jeez, these weigh a ton.”
“You said to bring all my CDs. Plus my gowns and accessories. Other than that, two swimsuits and two casual outfits. For me, that’s like backpacking.”
“Oh, right.” He smiled and shook his head.
Dressed in tan khakis and royal blue Polo shirt, Aaron looked, if not cool and collected, SoCal casual. Wanting to make a good first impression herself, Tess had glammed up a bit with a white linen pantsuit, red tee with a scoop neckline, and matching red, wedge heels.
“You said noon. It’s only one, Skin. The ship doesn’t leave until five. Why the rush?” She paid the cab driver and approached Aaron, who was clearly fighting down panic.
“We’ve gotta squeeze in a rehearsal this afternoon. They want us to fill in tonight with a forty-minute set. Their guest singer broke her leg in a car crash on the Four-Ten and can’t make it. We’re on the main stage, the Empress Theater, tonight. Tonight. In seven hours!”
“What?” Her eyes grew big and she nearly dropped her music satchel. They were ready for the lounge, a much more improvisational venue, but the ship’s main stage… Their preparations, pacing and timing would have to be perfected. There wasn’t time—
“My gowns need to hang and get unwrinkled—”
“No time, Red. Just pick the one that looks best. C’mon, the Entertainment Director’s waiting for us on the ship, on Deck Seven.” He grabbed the handle of one of her suitcases and pulled it behind him through a side entrance. Tess grabbed the other one and ran to catch up. She followed close at his heels up three long ramps to the staff check in area.
Two conveyor belts, set up to accommodate two staff lines, fed luggage into two huge X-ray machines as terminal guards scanned the incoming crew and entertainers.
“I’ve already checked in,” he told her, lifting her bags onto the conveyor belt. She set her purse, carry-on bag and satchel on the belt, too. Once through the security line, they showed their passports to one of the purser’s assistants. The woman, dressed in a cruise line uniform, checked Aaron’s ship ID card, then presented Tess with hers, a plastic card that served as a combination electronic ID, credit card and stateroom key. It had the same color as Aaron’s.
One of the crew loaded her bags on a wheeled cart with a dozen others and assured her he’d deliver them within the hour. While Aaron carried her carry-on,
Tess shouldered her purse and satchel and together they walked across to the gangway and boarded the ship.
This was Tess’ first time on a cruise ship and she was awestruck by the beauty of the reception lounge. Its focal point was a three-story high waterfall that streamed over a black-granite slab. They stopped and gazed at the huge atrium ablaze with welcoming lights. Tivoli-lit palm trees and enormous potted ferns added to the exotic ambience. Her eyes immediately roved to the white marble spiral staircases that wound down three stories to the purser’s desk, excursion counter and ship’s concierge. Aaron pointed to the bank of elevators, four glass-fronted capsules moved people up and down like space-age trams. Ship’s officers, dressed in navy blazers and white trousers, greeted everyone. To Tess, the scene might have leapt out of a movie set. Elegance and utilitarian beauty merged together on a modern sailing vessel.
A thrill ran through her. She clasped Aaron’s arm. “Wow,” she breathed. They were performing on such a majestic ship. For a minute, she couldn’t speak.
He nudged her affectionately. “C’mon, I’ll show you our stateroom.”
Halfway down a passageway on Deck Five, she almost tripped over her feet. His words had finally registered.
“Excuse me! Our stateroom? We’re bunking together?”
“I tried to get the purser to change it, but, you see, the dancer you were supposed to bunk with got engaged to the dancer I was assigned to room with and…” His back to her, he continued walking and checking the numbers on the passing stateroom doors. “…and they wanted to share a cabin. The purser said the lower priced cabins are all booked, but if we wanted to pay one-thousand each, he’ll give us two balcony staterooms on one of the upper decks.”
Tess chewed on this new development until Aaron stopped on the portside near the bow of the ship. One-twenty-one. He swiped his card key in the slot and pushed open the door. Inside, two twin beds and a square window with an obstructed view greeted them. The bathroom was tiny, but an open-walled closet appeared ample for all of her gowns, she thought. It also served as a room divider between the bedroom and bathroom. Not as small as she expected it to be. Hmm, it might work.
She dropped her purse and satchel on the floor and stretched out full-length on the left bed.
“At least, the beds are long enough. You’re tall, six-foot-three. Come here, Skin. Try it out. They’re extra long.”
He did. With his head on the pillow, his heels lined up with the foot of his twin bed. He shot her a concerned look. “You don’t mind? Bunking together?”
She did mind, but not to the extent of paying one-thousand bucks. “No, it’s fine.”
He smiled and nodded, seeming satisfied. Then he jumped up, zipped open his one suitcase and whipped out his tux. Behind the room divider, on the open closet side, she heard him mutter, “Lots of room.” Not for long, she mused, but decided not to spoil the moment. The rest of his bag held mostly stacks of CDs and binders of sheet music. As she considered the repercussions if Porter discovered their sleeping arrangement, Tess remained quiet. Suddenly, Aaron stopped what he was doing and poked his head around the wall.
“You sure you don’t mind? I mean, what’s our choice? I don’t want to spend a thousand just to have some privacy. I won’t mind your thong panties hanging over the shower curtain if you don’t get pissed at the toilet seat being up every now and then.”
She sat up and yanked the band off her ponytail, fluffing out her long tresses in the process. “It’s okay. Just promise me Porter will never know. He’d blow a gasket and that’d be the end of my get-rich-quick plan.”
Aaron shook his head. “You’re a mercenary, Tess MacIntosh. Good thing you’re not an army general or a damn politician. What, doesn’t Porter trust you?”
Her return look speared him. “Me, yes. You, no. Porter thinks all men are predators. He doesn’t know you, doesn’t understand that you’re an artist.”
From the expression on Aaron’s face, she might as well have slapped him or called him gay. She frowned and tried again.
“I mean, you and I are not… whatever. Just don’t blow this for me. This might be my only chance to… y’know, marry well.” Okay, enough of that. She knew she could trust Aaron not to hurt her. “Hey, how do you know I wear thong panties?”
“Ha, I just guessed. Old guys get turned on by girls in thongs.”
Without skipping a beat, Tess quipped, “Oh, and young guys don’t? Sure, Skin. Not to change the subject, but how should I wear my hair tonight? Up in a French twist? Down and straight as usual? Help me out here.” She added ironically, “I didn’t bring my makeup or wardrobe person with me.”
She leaped up and posed in front of the mirror above the room’s small dressing table. Gathering her hair, she coiled the heavy coppery mass and piled it high on the crown of her head. Fortunately, she’d brought plenty of hair pins and glittery barrettes.
“So, the hair?” she repeated, glancing at him. The expression on his face was strange and speculative as he watched her try a few different upswept hairdos.
“You know I’m not going to do anything to sabotage your plans, however incredibly foolish they might be.”
She cocked one hip and scowled. “No lectures, no judgments. Just advice on the hair.”
“Your hair…I don’t care. You look great no matter how you style your hair or what you wear.” He turned away and seized one of his music binders.
“Well, thanks. Your compliments are few and far between. Are you actually trying to charm me like you do all the other girls who throw themselves at you? Better watch out!” She winked at him in an exaggerated fashion and struck a teasing, seductive pose.
His reaction was so contrary to what she expected. He murdered her with his blue eyes. “For chrissakes, now I have to monitor everything I say? Sod off, Red. You’re not the only pretty woman on this ship.” He stalked to the door and threw back, “Empress Theater. Ten minutes.”
Tess blew air out of her cheeks. Whoa, evidently Aaron misinterpreted her teasing and thought she was mocking him. She wasn’t. Women did throw themselves at him. He was tall, good-looking in an English sort of way, had a great body. Intelligent, enormously talented. Sweet and kind…when he wanted to be. He could quote Shakespeare off the top of his head. That impressed her!
So what put a bug up his butt? She’d gone along with the shared cabin even though she had every right to strenuously protest the arrangement. Maybe he was now regretting how the cozy setup was going to cramp his style with the ladies?
Oh well, he’d get over it. He always did.
So where the hell was the Empress Theater?
* * * *
On short notice, she and Aaron sang one-third of their Best of Broadway set and, thank heavens, it went over like gangbusters! The newly arrived passengers were either too tired or too enthusiastic to notice a few of their flubs—well, mainly hers—and they’d given her and Aaron a standing ovation. Wow! Wait until they actually performed their best, she thought excitedly. Still, a live and happy audience always sent charges of electricity through her. Regardless of how she felt, her mood usually rose to meet theirs and she invariably gave her very best.
The dance troupe followed their show, enabling them to sneak out from back stage. Exuberant, they’d sauntered out, their arms draped about each other, if not entirely pleased with their performance, at least thrilled that they were so well received. Suddenly, Aaron pulled away and stopped to talk to Sherry, as her name tag indicated. To show his appreciation, Daniel Devore, the Entertainment Director, had one of his cute blonde assistants man a table just outside the theater and sell their CDs during and after their performance.
“How many sold?” he asked the girl. Hanging adoringly on his every word, Sherry sputtered, “I-I don’t know. Uh, let’s see…”
Together, Aaron and the girl counted the number sold while Tess waited.
“Better than I hoped for,” he told Tess, adding a wink, a dimpled smile and a thank you to the cute blonde. He
lingered at her table, dawdling at the side of his new hot fan and fairly dripping English charm. Meanwhile, Daniel asked Tess to join him at the Explorer’s Bar and Lounge, the venue of their usual show.
“I don’t drink,” she said pleasantly, hiding her annoyance with Aaron, “but I’ll have a Diet Coke.” At his offered arm, she hooked her arm through his as they waited for Aaron.
“Care to join us, Mr. Peterson? We have to go over a few things. Logistics, mainly. Where to put your keyboard, placement of the piano, mics. That sort of thing.”
“‘Course,” Aaron said, and to Sherry, “You can show me around the gym tomorrow morning. Okay?”
“I’d love to,” the cute blonde gushed, tilting her head over a girlishly raised shoulder. Tess thought she might gag. When Aaron joined them, she studiously ignored him and clung onto Daniel’s arm, smiling at his praise of their show.
As soon as their one-hour business meeting with Daniel in the Explorer’s Lounge concluded, Tess got up and strode back to her stateroom, a couple of steps ahead of Aaron. She was furious with him.
“Hey, it’s not my fault. He saw your rock—” meaning her engagement ring—“and assumed we were engaged. What was I going to say? No, it’s somebody else’s ring and no, her fiancé isn’t with us…look, Red, it’s damn awkward. On the bright side, word’ll get out and you won’t be bothered by all the old lechers on board.”
“Frankly, I don’t care what people think. Never have, you know that. Or that you find this situation awkward. You, Skin, you’re the one who got us into this, remember? And what about you? Are you ready to be a monk on this cruise? I won’t have you banging any girls in my cabin.”
Scheming and Dreaming in Los Angeles Page 3
