by Sandra Kitt
After twenty minutes McCoy climbed out of the pool, dripping water as he reached for one of the fluffy towels. He dried his face, hair and chest, holding the towel out like a banner, waited for her to come out of the water as well. When Savannah finally did so, she turned her back and he wrapped the towel around her, drawing her against his body. Despite time spent in the pool, his skin was very warm. He bent to nuzzle her ear, and down the side of her neck. The juices of desire were already making her wet.
She closed her eyes as her tension grew, as did his arousal. It was completely dark in the yard now, except for the pool lights, so that when McCoy silently kissed her, took away the towel and removed her bikini top with a one-handed gesture, Savannah made no objection. She aided him in his goal by stepping out of her bikini bottom, and letting McCoy embrace her so that their bodies pressed together in all the important places. The dalliance in the pool had just been a warm-up, but already it was way beyond that.
She boldly reached between them and rubbed and stroked his erection. He rotated his hips against her hand. Savannah gently broke free and made to turn toward the house. He grabbed her hand, pulling her, instead, into the dark overhang of a tree, where a cushioned lounger had been left on another day.
She no longer cared where they were, as long as she could have McCoy’s experienced lovemaking and the tender caring he brought with it. Besides, there was something highly stimulating about doing it under the open sky, at night, with the warm California air rushing over their bare skin. The lounger didn’t allow for much creative positioning, and they were both too hot, too ready, to play around any longer. But it was McCoy who lay flat on the lounger, drawing Savannah down on top of him.
In a role reversal, she lay nestled between his legs while they kissed languidly, undulated together, their hands freely exploring wherever they could reach. Savannah definitely felt she had got the better end of the bargain, and wondered if McCoy had selflessly planned it this way. It didn’t take long for her to want more. She wanted to know the full thrusting power of him as he skillfully brought her to a satisfaction that left her limp and breathless.
Just when she thought she could stand no more, McCoy, holding her tightly to him, flipped their positions. Without waiting, without warning, without any need for further stimulation, he slid into her body. Savannah arched her back, welcoming him and maneuvering him deeper.
Neither of them lasted very much longer, the urgency of the moment and the danger of exposure heightening the experience. They were both sweaty and panting when they collapsed together. She opened her eyes and looked up through the tree branches to a bright starlit sky. She smiled.
This is the stuff of romance, she remembered thinking. And of movies…
During yet another break in the presentation, after stifling a yawn, Savannah excused herself and left the theater. The foyer was mostly empty, although there were several people being individually interviewed and photographed, the bright strobe lights creating isolated bright spots in the open space. She had no real need to use the facilities, but opened the outside doors and enjoyed the feel of fresh air. Savannah stood for a few moments before making her way back into the theater to take her seat. She hadn’t worn a watch. Donna had also told her it was déclassé to wear one to any social evening in L.A. Time was not important.
She was crossing the lobby, her gown swishing and billowing around her legs when a door opened and McCoy suddenly walked through. They were about twenty feet apart, both taken aback by unexpectedly encountering the other. But the surprise quickly faded. Wordlessly McCoy beckoned with a slight incline of his head, and Savannah followed his lead. He walked unhurriedly, uninterrupted by security and various personal bodyguards, until he reached a series of rooms all labeled VIP/Invited Guests Only. He opened one door and held it as Savannah entered ahead of him.
The greenroom, as she’d learned the preperformance waiting room was called, was elegant if simple. It was empty of anyone but laid out with refreshments and other amenities for the comfort of the guests. He turned to face her, slowly putting his arms around her.
“My God, you look beautiful,” he said quietly.
“Why the surprise?” she teased, still delighted with his compliment.
He chortled silently, shaking his head as he carefully looked her over. “I’m not surprised, I’m pleased.”
“Thanks, Mac,” she whispered. “You look pretty hot yourself. You clean up good.”
“It’s almost over,” he whispered, his hands restlessly holding her by the waist. He began kissing her. It was sweet and thorough, but brief, and seemed to serve the purpose of taking the edge off a much deeper need.
“What are you doing after this finishes?” she asked, enjoying the cuddling.
He sighed in resignation. “Escorting Cherise to a party. My job is mostly to make sure no one tries anything inappropriate. She makes it a lot harder when she flirts with male celebrities in an effort to be seen and photographed with them. And you?”
“Pretty much the same. Not that I’m going to flirt with anyone. Punch has this grand plan and I know he’s going to make sure I get photographed with whomever he thinks will do me good to be seen with.”
“I warned you,” he said, not unkindly. “Hollywood is an alternative universe. The rules are different here.”
“I know, but I’d rather…” she stopped, grimacing prettily.
“Me, too,” he said, kissing her again. “Got any plans for the weekend?”
“I’ve invited Caroline Spencer to the house for dinner. I’d like to get to know her better. What do you have in mind?”
“I thought we’d drive down to Long Beach, stay at the house down there. A friend is playing at a jazz club Saturday night. We could do the beach…”
She grinned broadly at him, knowing his idea of beaching didn’t necessarily involve the beach or swimsuits.
“…play the rest by ear.”
“I’d like that very much.”
“Good. I guess we should get back inside. Are you ready?” McCoy asked, releasing her and opening the door.
Again, there was no one around as they headed back to their respective seats, McCoy peeling off to the left and covertly blowing her a kiss.
She was still smiling when she retook her seat. Getting through the rest of the evening was going to be a snap.
“You know,” Taj said, chewing thoughtfully on his food. “This tastes so good ’cause I don’t have to pay for it.”
Savannah laughed, watching as he devoured a side of baby back ribs coated with a thick tangy sauce. She was working her way through a plate of mahimahi served with roasted vegetables. They were at a restaurant that she’d let him select. It was noisy, with the tables too close together, but it had a lovely atmosphere, a very decent band playing music, free wine with dinner. She knew it wasn’t necessarily going to be great wine.
“I can see you’re enjoying the food.”
“This is one of my favorite places,” Taj said, enthusiastically sucking the tender meat from a bone. “A lot of musicians hang here. Sometimes Hollywood biggies will show up for the food and the music.”
“If I haven’t already said so, thanks for all your help with Fade to Black.”
“I should be thanking you,” Taj said, attacking another rib. “I got a call from a friend of Punch’s who has a record label. He wants to hear some of my stuff. Word got around that I produce and I have my ear to the ground on up-and-coming talent.”
“I’m happy for you.”
He looked at her pointedly over the top of his glasses. “This don’t mean that I now owe you dinner. I ain’t rich like you.”
Savannah laughed. “I think we’re even.”
She heard a ringing tone and realized it was her cell phone. She hastily searched for it in her purse but it had stopped ringing by the time she found it. Checking the LCD she read that the call and text message was from Punch. It instructed her to call right away.
“Taj, I’m going to s
tep outside to return this call. It’s too loud in here.”
“Take your time, Baby Girl. Can I order another side of the sweet-potato fries?”
“Of course. Order anything you want,” she said, making her way through the tightly spaced tables to the front of the restaurant and outside to the street. There were several bistro tables, and she sat at an empty one, keying in Punch’s cell-phone number.
“Hi,” Savannah responded to his hello. “Sorry I missed the call a moment ago. I couldn’t find my phone,” she chuckled.
“I figured you were at dinner.”
“I am, but the message said it was important. I thought I should call you back right away.”
“Well, I have good news and bad news,” Punch started.
Savannah grew focused on the tone of his voice. He sounded disappointed. “I think I’d like to have the good news first,” she said, trying to keep it light.
“I got a call from the agent of the actress the studio was considering for your script. She loved the story but was concerned about the impact on her career if she played a black actress passing for white. I guess I should tell you that the actress herself is white. It seemed the only way to go, given the story line. She’s a wonderful actress with a solid reputation. She asked if you’d written anything else. I told a little white lie and said you had something else in mind.”
“And that’s the good news?” Savannah asked, puzzled. “I’m afraid to ask what the bad news is.”
Punch sighed from the other end of the line. “I’m really sorry Savannah. I tried my best, but the producer has decided to pass on the option. He’s chosen one of the other two scripts to film.”
Chapter 12
McCoy reached for the telephone even as he continued to review the cosing documents for one of his clients.
“Yes?” he answered absently, turning a page.
“A messenger just arrived with something from Ben Damon. It’s marked urgent and confidential.”
McCoy grew alert and closed the report he was reading. “Bring it right in.” He was standing when his assistant, Colin, entered the office, handed him the envelope and turned to leave.
McCoy was already breaking the seal on the package. “Thanks. Hold my calls, will you?”
He was so anxious to read the contents that he simply leaned back against the edge of his desk and quickly reviewed the information. He sat just like that for nearly half an hour. When he was done, he went around his desk and sat down again. He silently considered what he’d read, sometimes staring off into space, sometimes scribbling notes. He made a few phone calls, indirectly related to the delivery, and then called Colin to give him further instructions.
He responded to a few business calls, but prepared to leave an hour before he normally would. The last thing he did was to call Savannah at her office. She answered, sounding professional as she always did, her voice and tone light.
“Am I interrupting anything?”
“Hi, Mac. No, it’s kind of quiet right now. What’s up?”
“How are you doing?”
“I guess you mean since Punch called about the option. I’m fine, really. I admit the idea of having a movie made from my script had me going for a while, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be. It’s too bad. I even had an actress in mind for the part.” She laughed lightly. “It’s a good thing I didn’t give up my day job.”
On his end, McCoy silently grinned at her sense of humor. “Maybe something else will happen with the script. Punch told me he’ll continue shopping it around. He has some ideas.”
“It’s nice of him. This whole thing has given me so much more pride and admiration for my father. To think about the constant rejection he faced every time he tried out for a part…I don’t know how he kept going for twenty-five years.”
“Because he was a good actor, and he believed in himself and he understood that you never take no for an answer. You’re just like your father, Vann, whether you know it or not. You may not be part of the Hollywood thing, but you’re talented and smart and levelheaded.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she accused lightly.
“No, I don’t,” McCoy answered in a dead-serious tone. “I say what I mean, especially to a woman I care about.”
“Are you trying to make me cry?” she asked, her voice now quiet.
“No. I thought I was calling to cheer you up, but I’m doing a damned poor job so far. Look, no matter what you say, I know that having the producer turn down the script so fast after getting you all excited, must have bummed you out. Let me take you out to dinner. I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?”
“I think it’s something you’ve been wanting for a while now, whether or not you know it.”
“Are you going to give me a hint?”
“Are you going to have dinner with me?”
“You know the answer to that, Mac. I’d love to.”
“Good. Then go home. I’ll pick you up there and we’ll eat someplace local.”
“Okay.”
“Now for the surprise. I’ve located Rae Marie Hilton. She’s alive and well and apparently living in paradise.”
He was confused when there was total silence from the other end of the line. No exclamation or gasp, no shriek of surprise.
“Vann?”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course I am.”
“But…how did you find her? How did you even know where to look?”
“I have my sources.”
She sucked her teeth. “Mac, that’s a line from a movie. It’s a cliché.”
“But it’s true. I used a P.I. service. It’s the first time, and I still can’t believe that they actually found her.”
“Where is she? What do you mean, she’s living in paradise?”
“According to the file I received on her, she’s been living on the island of Kauai for at least the last fifteen years.”
“Kauai? Like…”
“Hawaiian island. The Garden Isle. Remote and quiet.”
“Is she okay? Does she live alone? What else did you find out?”
“Quite a lot. I’ll tell you all about it at dinner. But I have another idea you might like even more. A good friend of mine owns a house on the north shore of Kauai. I’ve already called and asked if I could use it for a weekend. He said yes. How do you feel about the two of us flying over to meet her? It might answer a lot of questions you have about Ms. Hilton and your father.”
“I don’t know, Mac. If she went there to get away from her bad experiences in Hollywood, our going over there to ask a lot of questions might bring them all back. Maybe she doesn’t want to be reminded of that time in her life.”
“Maybe. But what if she’d love to tell someone about it? What better person than you?”
“Why would she? Rae Marie Hilton shared a lot with my father. Maybe that’s all she needed. What if she’s, you know, still pretending to be something other than what she is? If I go nosing around in her business she might resent it. It sounds too much like using her.”
“Okay, I understand that. But here’s a suggestion.”
“I’m listening.”
“Why don’t you call her and find out? I have her phone number right here.”
Savannah had never been to Hawaii. It was on her short list of places to visit, but it somehow seemed like something to do once she retired. She knew only a few people who had ever been, and mostly they’d stayed on the popular tourist island of Oahu where Honolulu and Waikiki were located, along with the Pearl Harbor Memorial and the dormant volcano, Diamond Head…and they’d complained about the long brutal flight from the east coast. She’d often heard Oahu referred to as a big metropolitan city but with palm trees and coconuts.
It had taken her a week to get up the courage to call Rae Marie, as McCoy had suggested, and then she had been stunned into nonresponsiveness when the mysterious lady herself had answered the phone, in a soft but deep voice with a silky, brand
y huskiness to it.
“Speak up or I’m hanging up,” came back the blunt order.
Afraid that Rae Marie would be true to her word, Savannah had confirmed that she was talking to the right person, and then had rushed into an apology for interrupting her. Then it was Rae Marie’s turn to be silent for a moment.
“How did you find me?” was her first question.
“A friend of mine did the legwork. He’s an attorney in L.A.”
“And just why was your friend looking for me? Am I supposed to know him? Am I being sued?”
“No, of course not. He was doing me a favor. I’d found out about you from papers my father kept. Your journals and letters.”
There was a very soft intake of breath from Rae Marie’s end. “Who was your father?”
“Will Shelton. I’m his daughter, Savannah.”
There was another gasp.
“Will Shelton. Good Lord. I haven’t heard that name…how is he?”
Savannah had immediately warmed to Rae Marie when the flurry of questions had been not about herself or about trying to find out what Savannah knew about her, but about Will Shelton. It had probably been a decade or more since they’d laid eyes on each other, but still her first thought was of her old confidant, fellow actor and friend.
“My father passed away about ten months ago. He’d been sick for a year before that.”
“Oh, no. Oh, Will…” Rae Marie had tsked and moaned quietly to herself at the news.
Savannah heard pain, regret, even helplessness in the woman’s reaction, and there was nothing she could say to soften the blow of her news.
“I’m sorry. I thought that somehow you’d know.”
“No, no. I knew nothing. I’ve cut all of my old Hollywood ties. It was not a happy time in my life.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You do? Of course. You said you’d found my letters and journals.”
“Yes. And I did read them, but I promise you, I haven’t shown them to anyone else…”
“Then, you know?”
