“The private eye isn’t getting much on you. You lead an incredibly boring life, sister.” Portia’s eyes twinkled with merriment. She sipped her wine.
“Thank you.”
“That poor guy talked to every one of your neighbors he could track down. They all love you. Mom and Dad were so annoyed, they fired him.”
“My neighbors don’t love me,” Roxanne objected wondering how the private detective was able to get past the guard at the gate. “They love Grandma’s oatmeal-raisin-white-chocolate-chip cookies.” Donna had been wooing the neighbors since they’d first moved in. First with cookies, then handmade Christmas gifts that she hand delivered to everyone in the cul-de-sac. Donna had always been generous.
“I make the best,” Donna said. “I think I need to get another couple batches out now and distribute more so everyone remembers their lines.”
“Have you been bribing people again?” Roxanne asked.
“Bribe is such an ugly word,” Donna said with as innocent a look on her face as she could manage.
“Grandma, you’re the best.” Roxanne kissed her grandmother, thankful the woman was on her side.
“I hid a few. Let’s get a bottle of wine and eat them.” Donna opened a cabinet and pulled out a cookie tin.
“I’ll get the wine,” Portia said and opened the wine fridge for a bottle of pinot grigio.
Roxanne grabbed three dessert plates and set them on the kitchen table. “What else happened at the meeting?”
Portia removed the cork and grabbed three wineglasses. She poured and handed a glass to Roxanne. “Mom has been talking to TMZ. They loved the video of you and Nick kissing even though they didn’t get the mileage out of it they thought they would.”
“And,” Portia continued, “they decided that Mom would do a critical analysis of your dancing after every episode in an attempt to keep the fire going because she thinks the judges are being too kind to you.”
“How does Mom think her critical comments are going to embarrass me enough to want to do the movie? They’re just going to make it look like she’s trying to sabotage me if the public knows the comments are hers.”
“She says she has more juicy stuff that she’s been saving.”
“The PI just told her I have a boring life. And other than sleeping with Nick, my neighbors aren’t talking.”
“We have loyal neighbors and if they want more of my cookies, they know what not to say,” Donna put in with a smug smile. “Besides, people don’t live in this neighborhood to have their dirty laundry aired. They know better than to invite gossip into this area. If they start selling you out, you have license to do the same.”
But Roxanne was still focused on her mother’s plan to sell dirt on her. “I’m a grown woman. I can’t imagine what she thinks she has over me.”
“TMZ isn’t always about what’s true.”
“In my opinion they are just one step away from stalking.” Her mother was trying to make a mountain out of a molehill.
“Look,” Portia said gently, “Mom’s comments could work against her. The audience loves you and anything she says could be construed as sour grapes. All she can really offer is innuendo.”
Roxanne sighed and rubbed her temples. Crap like this was one of the reasons she preferred to stay out of the spotlight.
Dread coursed through Roxanne. “A person can make a lot out of innuendo.” This hostility with her parents was going to get vicious. “How do I counteract it?”
“No matter what you do they will find a way to use it. Continue ignoring them. You’ll get through this.”
Roxanne bit into a cookie savoring the sweet, almost spicy taste. Her grandmother added a secret ingredient which she refused to indulge. Roxanne never pushed her. Everyone was allowed secrets even if the secret was one simple ingredient to a recipe.
Secrets could destroy a family or make it stronger. She wasn’t going to knuckle under to her parents’ blackmail. Like her sister, she would get through this.
Chapter 9
Mike and Nancy lived in a gated community right on the beach that honored the privacy of the owners. Nick pulled in to the driveway of a two-story home painted white with gray trim.
Roxanne had never been to Nancy’s home. They’d always met at a restaurant or Roxanne’s home. “What a lovely place.”
“Yeah, makes my condo look like it should be condemned.”
Roxanne laughed. “This is what happens when old-Hollywood money marries old-Hollywood money.”
“They have homes all over the world.”
“Are we being jealous?” Roxanne teased.
“No. No, really. Well, maybe. Yes,” Nick finally admitted.
Nick parked in the driveway. Roxanne got out of the car, realizing that Mike and Nancy’s life was what her parents aspired to. Roxanne was comfortable. She would never want for anything in her life. But this was wealth with a capital W. These people wrote her checks. She was pleased that she and Nancy were friends. They’d been friends for a long time and in Hollywood who a person knew was more important than what a person knew. Roxanne was lucky in that she had a bankable skill, not only as an actress, but as a genealogist. And being on the crest of that popularity created new opportunities for her. Many of her contemporaries, whose careers went sideways, never recovered.
The front door swung open as they approached. A man in a black suit smiled at them.
“Good morning, Miss Deveraux, Mr. Torres. I’m Silas, Mr. and Mrs. Bertram’s butler. Please come in.”
Roxanne smiled at Silas. “Mr. and Mrs. Bertram are expecting us.”
“I know, miss. Mr. and Mrs. Bertram will not be able to be here today. They have made the house available to you both.”
“What,” Nick said. “I thought...”
Silas smoothly interrupted. “They ask your forgiveness, but a small emergency required their presence.” He moved aside and gestured them into the house.
Roxanne laughed. She nudged Nick. “Thank you, Silas.” Nancy was an unrepentant romantic. She and her husband were matchmaking.
The house was as white inside as outside—white walls, white furniture, white marble and white carpeting. Roxanne was afraid to touch anything for fear of leaving a smudge.
“Lunch is being served on the back veranda.” Silas led the way down a long hallway that bisected the house. The living room and formal dining room were on the left, and an office and a family room were on the right. In the foyer, stairs curled up to the second story. A huge country kitchen spanned the house from side to side, with a long bank of windows overlooking the ocean and a huge redwood deck. Steps led from the deck down to the beach. On the sand near the water, two lounge chairs, shaded by a large white umbrella, resided.
A woman stood in the kitchen arranging food on two plates. She nodded pleasantly at Nick and Roxanne.
Silas sat them at the table and poured lemonade into tall frosted glasses. A warm breeze brushed over Roxanne’s skin as she sat and luxuriated in the calm beauty of the Pacific Ocean.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” Nick said.
“I’m not surprised.” Roxanne hadn’t expected to have the house to themselves, either, but she knew Nancy. “This is going to be a perfect day,” Roxanne said.
Silas brought out two salad plates and served Roxanne and Nick with a flourish. He silently withdrew.
“I love the beach,” Nick said. “The surf looks good and I know Mike has boards in the guesthouse. He surfs when he has the time.”
“Surf? You surf?”
“Of course. Who doesn’t?”
“I don’t.”
He eyed her in surprise. “Why not?”
“I enjoy the idea of the beach and surfing, but once you’re in the water, you become part of the food chain. Didn’t you see the pho
to on the internet of the woman with her two children frolicking in the surf and the ten-foot shark outlined in the wave behind them?”
Nick sipped his lemonade. “I saw that, but I never believe what I see on the internet. For all you know it could have been Photoshopped.”
Roxanne shrugged. “If you say so. But I don’t believe you.”
“Come on, I’ll teach you to surf. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
“Really. What if I get injured?” Or eaten by a shark. She glanced doubtfully at the water.
“It’s a mild day and these baby waves are the best waves to learn on, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We’ll take it easy and stay close to shore.”
Food chain, she chanted to herself. But pleasing Nick was important, too. “Life is about learning new things. I’ll give it a try.”
He grinned at her. “I knew you would.”
She finished her salad. Silas whisked her plate away and refilled her lemonade.
“How are things going with your family?” Nick asked after Silas left the main course in front of them. “They’ve been kind of quiet the last week.”
The plate consisted of a delicate white fish with a buttery-looking sauce, thin asparagus spears wrapped in an orange peel and a fluffy crescent roll.
“I think they’re gathering their flying monkeys,” Roxanne said wryly. “You know Portia told me they hired a private investigator to find deep, dark dirt on me, but the PI has come up empty. I’m a good neighbor, I sometimes help out at the zoo with my sister and provide a home for my grandmother. Hard to find dirt on those activities.”
“Your sister is cute. I really like her.”
“I know. She’s trying to find a way to get to veterinary school.”
“And your brother?” Nick asked.
She paused, thinking about what Portia had revealed about Tristan. “At one time, he wanted to be an environmental engineer, but I think fame has seduced him. He seems more interested in the trappings of celebrity now.” The more times she saw Tristan’s name in the tabloids, the more worried about him she became. “I’m worried he’s about to self-destruct.”
Nick nodded in understanding. “I’ve been avoiding him.”
“He wants you to cast him as the lead in the revival of Timbuktu.”
“I know, but it’s too early. Mike and I are only in the planning stages and we’re months away from casting.”
“How did your parents keep you and your siblings grounded?”
“Family always comes first. We have monthly dinners and even if you live in another state, we Skype. Excuses are not allowed.”
Roxanne thought about that as she ate her fish. It was delicious even though she wasn’t big on fish. Silence fell, punctuated by the roar of the waves as they pounded against the sand. The rhythmic sound made her sleepy. She might not trust the ocean and its uncharted depths, but the sound always relaxed her.
After lunch, they changed in the guesthouse into bathing suits. Roxanne’s one-piece bathing suit was a deep purple with white trim. Nick looked at her approvingly, though she thought she saw a slight disappointment in his eyes.
A rack of several surfboards were stored in a shed on the shady side of the guest house. Nick took one, removed it from its board bag and checked it over, smiling. “Ready?” He took her hand and headed toward the water.
“Don’t you have to do something to them?” She eyed the surfboard suspiciously.
“Mike keeps them in excellent condition.”
Roxanne hesitated trying to keep her calm. What were the chances of being eaten by a great white? A million to one. Five to one. She took a step and then forced herself to take another. Foaming water surged toward her.
You can do this, she told herself, hesitating as the surf surged toward her feet.
Nick waded into the water, pulling her with him. “Come on, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
The water was cool against the intense heat. She dug her toes into the sand and allowed Nick to pull her deeper into the water. He showed her how to sit on the board. She straddled it and he sat behind her, showing her how to paddle.
Roxanne didn’t expect to enjoy surfing. The waves were higher than she was comfortable with, but with Nick’s help she managed to catch a couple. She spent more time falling off the board than staying on.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to be a surfer girl,” Roxanne said with a laugh. She half stumbled across the wet sand after she exited the water.
“You’re a native Californian, how can you not?” He sat on the surfboard watching her, appreciation in his eyes.
She simply shook her head. “I’m done. You play. Silas set up those lounge chairs for us and I’m going to enjoy them while I’m watching you.”
She retreated back to the beach while Nick spent another hour on the board, paddling farther out to catch the higher waves.
While he surfed, she watched him. His body glistened with water highlighting every muscle. He was easy to look at. Farther out on the water, seagulls glided and dipped down, skimming the water, adding their raucous cries to the sound of the ocean. A pelican floated on the surface. Roxanne found her eyelids growing heavy and finally drifted to sleep.
* * *
“Tomorrow it’s back to rehearsal,” Nick said as he pulled into her driveway and parked next to Portia’s car.
Roxanne groaned. “All this relaxation made me realize I need a vacation.”
“Where do you want to go? Tahiti, Bali, Venice, Rome?”
“I want to go someplace where I don’t have to work.” She thought about a destination for a moment. “Antarctica. The few people there are scientists and they are only temporary.”
“It’s cold there,” Nick said.
“You don’t like the cold?”
“Not that kind of bone-numbing cold. I like skiing-in-Aspen cold.”
“There’s history in Aspen.” She hadn’t been to Colorado for a couple years. She’d attended a seminar on genealogy there and loved it. If she’d had more time she might have done some skiing.
“That’s as cold as I ever want to get.”
“Fair enough.” She opened the car door and got out. Nick followed her up the steps. “Have you talked to your mother yet about her father?”
He shook his head. “I’m having a hard time figuring out how to tell her. I’m going to try tonight. We’re meeting for dinner.”
He gave her one last kiss and leaned into it. She didn’t want him to go.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded and opened the front door.
* * *
Nick parked in the lot adjacent to his parents’ restaurant. Daniel’s car was parked next to Sebastian’s, but he didn’t see either of his parents’ cars.
He pushed into the restaurant inhaling the spicy smells from the kitchen, hearing the muted conversation and an occasional laugh.
He sat down across from Sebastian. “What are you two doing here?”
Sebastian shuffled his deck of cards and slid them across the table. “Pick one.”
Nick did so and when Sebastian asked for it back, he slid the card into the deck without looking.
“Mom and Dad are having a date night,” Daniel said, “we’re here just keeping an eye on things.”
Even though his parents trusted their general manager, they didn’t leave anything to chance. Usually Matteus, their oldest brother, who had decided on a career in law enforcement, took up restaurant duty when his parents couldn’t be here. “What happened to Matteus?” Nick asked as a waitress poured water into a glass and set it in front of him.
“Big case,” Sebastian said. He shuffled his deck, counted the cards and held up a three of clubs.
“If you say so,” Nick
said.
Sebastian grinned. “You know me too well.”
“That whole deck is probably nothing but threes of clubs.”
Sebastian shrugged. He turned the deck over to show the cards. They were all threes of clubs. Nick grinned at him. Sebastian shuffled again and the cards turned back into their normal suits.
“Have a nice day with Roxanne?” Sebastian asked. “I’m wondering when I get to meet her?”
“I tried to teach her to surf. And you’ll meet her in due time.”
Sebastian slid the cards into their box and put it away inside his pants pocket.
“I liked her,” Daniel said. The waitress brought a basket piled with an assortment of bread. He took a roll, buttered it and took a bite.
Nick liked her, too. “I was planning on talking to Mom about something tonight. I asked Roxanne to do an ancestry search for us, I thought it would be nice to know and make a great Christmas gift.”
“And you found something?” Sebastian asked.
“I found a lot of things. Or rather Roxanne found a lot of things.”
“Like what?” Sebastian asked.
Nick didn’t know if he should tell them, but then again, why not. “We have a grandpa.”
“Grandpa Al will be happy to know that.” Daniel finished his roll and searched for another.
“Not Grandpa Al,” Nick said, wondering how to tell his brothers about Lionel Stanton. He felt a little guilty discussing this with them before talking to his mom.
Sebastian’s eyebrows rose curiously.
“Grandpa Al,” Nick said, “is not our biological grandfather.” There, he’d said it. He didn’t realize how the heavy weight of keeping a secret had been pulling him down.
Daniel looked surprised and Sebastian looked curious.
“And,” Daniel prompted, tapping the table with his index finger.
“Grandma was married before Al to a Lionel Stanton and he’s Mom’s biological dad.”
Daniel leaned back, his mouth open in surprise.
“Wow,” Daniel said. “Who knew? Who’s going to tell Mom?”
Nick glanced at Daniel. “I planned to talk to her tonight, but she’s not here. You’re two minutes older than me and you’ve been holding it over me all our lives. You talk to her.”
Love Tango Page 13
