by Gun Brooke
“We’ll see.” Annelie said. “I can be very persuasive.”
Gregory put his arm around her waist and gave her a quick squeeze. “Just be careful. Promise me that.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder. “I promise.”
*
“Did you remember to call Beth back?” Jared pulled out into the night traffic.
Carolyn groaned. “No, I forgot. I was running late but that’s no excuse. Did she say what’s up?”
Beth, her eleven-years-younger sister, was a nurse, far from Carolyn’s glamorous world. Married for six years, she and her husband, Joe, lived in D.C. with their four-year-old daughter, Pamela.
“No, just that she needed to talk to you about something. It didn’t sound like an emergency.”
Carolyn leaned back, resting her head. A familiar throbbing in her temples made her reach for her purse and pull out a nasal spray. If she disregarded the early symptoms, the throbbing would inevitably escalate into a full-blown migraine attack, incapacitating her for several days. She took her medicine, noticing Jared’s concerned glance in her direction.
“Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Just a precaution.” Carolyn gave a muted sigh. She needed to relax; she was tired after doing six performances a week for eleven months. If she wasn’t careful she would end up with permanent bags under her eyes.
“Heard from your brother lately?”
“No, not in a while. He’s into one of his creative spells, I think. If my sister-in-law didn’t drag him to my shows, he’d never get around to watching any of my work.”
“You go to every one of his exhibitions.”
Carolyn chuckled at the implied criticism. “That’s different. John is a genius. It’s my duty to admire him, even if I think his sculptures look like deformed pieces of junk.”
Jared shook his head. “You can try to sound sarcastic, but it’s not working. I know you’re proud of him.”
Carolyn smiled. “Yes, I am.”
She had been twelve years old when their mother died, hit by a car while crossing the street. John was six and baby Elisabeth just eleven months. Their father had lost his moorings when his beautiful, vibrant wife was killed, and Carolyn had soon found herself in her mother’s role, taking care of her siblings.
Shawn Black had suffered a massive heart attack when Carolyn was twenty-one, and she’d dropped out of college to look after her teenaged brother and young sister. Life had been a struggle, but she had never regretted making that choice. Even now, she was proud that she’d been able to raise John and Beth without help from anyone.
Jared pulled into the parking lot beneath the large apartment building where his ocean-view condo was. After they took the elevator up to the fifth floor, Carolyn leaned against the wall and closed her eyes briefly as he unlocked the door.
“Some evening,” she mused. “I don’t think I’ve been in a room with so many people dressed fit to kill since the Golden Globes.”
“Half of Palm Beach was there.” Jared sounded admiring. “Annelie knows how to raise money, and she’s passionate about those kids. I heard she even volunteers at the hospital when one of them is admitted.”
“Remarkable,” Carolyn said. “I’m amazed she invited me to use her pool while I’m here.”
Jared stopped on his way to the kitchen and faced her. “I’ve got to admit I’m curious about two things—her motives for inviting you, and yours, for going.”
“To swim, of course,” Carolyn said lightly. She could see Jared wasn’t buying. He knew her too well to accept the explanation at face value.
“Carolyn,” he chided. “Since when did you share your precious private life, unless there’s a payoff?”
“I spend hours with you, don’t I?”
He laughed. “We both know it’s very convenient for you to have our names linked in the media. Like I said, there’s always a payoff.”
Carolyn produced a mock-innocent shrug. “If it helps Annelie Peterson see I’m the only sane choice for Diana Maddox, I’ll be thrilled to swim in her pool as often as it takes.”
“Are you sure you really want to do this?” Jared looked uneasy.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a well-known secret that Annelie Peterson is a lesbian.”
Carolyn blinked. “Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be without actually asking her to her face.”
Carolyn pictured the tall blonde in her blue dress, moving with perfect grace from one person to another in the marble hallway of the hotel, shaking hands, smiling. Her jewelry had sparkled but hadn’t managed to draw attention from her ice blue eyes or her melodious alto voice. Annelie was not just attractive, she was stunningly beautiful. And gay?
“Carolyn?”
She raised an eyebrow. “If you’re waiting for me to be shocked, don’t hold your breath. I work in show business, for heaven’s sake!”
Jared gave her a pointed stare. “Actually, I was waiting for the announcement about how you plan on using the information to your advantage.”
A flash of anger burned through the effect of her medication. Feeling her left temple begin to throb again, Carolyn glared at him. “Thanks a lot. You make me sound like a callous bitch.”
“You’re nothing of the kind. You’re a wonderful bitch.”
“You horrible man,” she muttered. “You make me so angry sometimes.” She rubbed her temple.
“Only because I see you the way you are, and not the way you want to be seen. You’re very good at playing Carolyn Black. It’s the role of a lifetime, if you ask me.”
He was an unbearable tease. Still, she felt herself relax as he put his arm around her shoulders and ushered her into the kitchen. “Let me make it up to you with a café latte,” he said. “You’re the only person I know who sleeps better after a healthy dose of caffeine.”
Carolyn perched on a stool next to the kitchen counter, watching as he ground aromatic coffee beans. “Tell me something. What did you mean when you said you were curious about her motives for inviting me?” she asked.
Jared placed a cup in the espresso machine. “Does she want to get to know you before she decides whether to offer you the role? Or is there some other agenda?”
“Such as?”
“You’ll have to ask her. But if I were a lesbian, I’d probably enjoy having you swim in my pool.” He handed Carolyn her latte.
She sipped it with a show of nonchalance. Could Annelie Peterson be attracted to her? If so, she wouldn’t be the first lesbian Carolyn had had to politely discourage. On the other hand, this could be exactly the opportunity she needed. If there was one thing show business had taught her, it was how to convert lust into an acting contract.
*
Annelie stepped out of her blue dress and hung it carefully before taking off her lace underwear and putting on a white terry-cloth robe. She walked outside and switched on the jets in the Jacuzzi, dropped the robe on a garden chair, and climbed into the hot water. Screened from view by palm trees and high walls, her hot tub was located directly off the patio near the swimming pool. Annelie loved the sense of being in her own little world, naked outdoors. With a contented sigh, she leaned back and gazed up at the starry sky, amazed at how close it always seemed. This was one of the things she loved about Florida—in New York, you could barely make out the constellations because of the bright city lights.
Shifting in the water, she allowed the jets to reach every part of her body, teasing and caressing her flesh, rippling along the entire length of her spine like a thousand tiny kisses. Steady blue-gray eyes and auburn hair invaded her thoughts, and she closed her eyes, not surprised that Carolyn Black had lodged in her mind. The actress was more than a famous beauty; she was devastatingly sexy. Something about the way she moved, and the way she looked at Annelie, unsettled her in a way she was not used to. Face-to-face, Carolyn had made her feel like she was the only person in the room, nailing her with those amazing eyes, pulling her in and
claiming all of her attention. It had taken an effort for Annelie to remain calm, at least outwardly, and just thinking about the encounter still made her heart hammer in her chest.
She wondered if Carolyn knew she was a lesbian. Annelie realized people automatically assumed she was gay just because she published an extensive range of widely successful lesbian books and never used token males as escorts to any of the functions she attended. It was not something she attempted to keep a secret, but she was not officially out either. Reserved by nature, she neither confirmed nor denied her sexual preference to anyone. It simply wasn’t anybody else’s business.
Annelie hadn’t reached her present position in society overnight. Winning one of the largest ever multistate Powerball lotteries nine years ago had altered her life forever. After surviving the media circus with its interviews, followed by the obligatory letters and phone calls from begging strangers and acquaintances, she’d decided to drop below the radar.
Assuming her Swedish mother’s maiden name, she’d moved to New York, living in Manhattan for two years while she attended Barnard College’s Comparative Literature Program. During that period, she’d learned how to move among the rich and famous as if she belonged, taking lessons in deportment and public speaking. A regime of beauty treatments, massages, and regular visits to the gym changed her looks and movements.
The girl who had once been Annie Clint, bank-office clerk during the day to help pay for her literature studies in the evenings, became Annelie Peterson, businesswoman. She started a call center named Quasar Inc. at the beginning of the outsourcing boom. The business rapidly become so successful she was able to sell it at a handsome profit and look for a new business opportunity, something less crazy. Annelie never spoke about her past and had confided the truth to only three of her best friends, knowing they would never betray her. She’d learned a few difficult lessons early on, especially that people treated her differently because of her money and few had genuine motives.
As she arched her back, she tilted her head into the Jacuzzi, allowing the jets to massage her scalp. Her naked breasts rose above the surface, her nipples pebbling in the humid night air. Shivering slightly, she sank once more into the seductive warmth of the water and released a satisfied moan. She had never regretted her decision to move on. Much as she’d loved Manhattan, she had longed for a slower pace. Having visited Florida several times and fallen in love with the cosmopolitan way of life in Miami, she decided to make it her home.
She bought a medium-sized publishing company, Key Line Publishing, and promptly branched out from nonfiction and children’s books to publish gay and lesbian literature as well as mainstream novels. Her strategy paid off, soon making Key Line a thorn in the sides of the industry heavyweights.
Annelie returned to her condo in New York periodically, enjoying catching up with her friends. She kept a close check on the business endeavors she was still involved with and also worked with several charity organizations. Most of her fortune remained tied up in a wide stock and bond portfolio, and under the auspices of her savvy investment manager, her net worth had almost quadrupled since her lottery win.
Annelie did not flaunt her wealth the way many of Miami’s newly rich did. Her financial status made her the target of opportunists, and showing up on Forbes’s list of businesswomen of influence was no help. It was always a struggle to balance her need for privacy, which sometimes led to inadvertent solitude, with her need to do business effectively and provide active support to the charity organizations she had endowed.
Turning in the water, she pushed herself up over the side of the Jacuzzi, then into the swimming pool, needing to cool down. The hot water in the whirlpool was soothing, but it also made her lethargic if she wasn’t careful. She swam over to the other side of the pool, completely submerged, relishing the water’s silken chill against her flesh. When she reached the ladder, she climbed up and sat on the ledge, wringing out her hair as the balmy night once more surrounded her.
Droplets ran down her arms, glistening against her pale skin as they followed the rounded curve of her full breasts. They stopped at the puckered skin of her nipples, and the cooling effect of the water made her shiver. Annelie smoothed the rivulets away, running her hands over her body. The touch was oddly soothing, yet had a bittersweet tinge to it. She rarely felt lonely, but tonight she was all too aware of what was missing in her very full life. Suddenly Carolyn’s eyes were there again, looking at her, her head slightly tilted as if Annelie were the most interesting, worthwhile person in the world. Not quite sure why the image of the actress was etched on her retina, she envisioned the smaller woman dressed in that elegant black evening gown, the rhinestones accentuating her figure. In person, she was everything Annelie had imagined, maybe even more.
Disregarding a sudden twinge deep inside, Annelie got to her feet and padded over to the Jacuzzi to turn off the jets. A set of patio doors opened from her bedroom, and she picked up her robe and went through these, heading for her bathroom. After a quick shower, she dried her hair and brushed her teeth before sliding into bed. For a moment, she lay completely still, enjoying the feeling of the crisp linen against her naked body; then she set her alarm for six thirty. She had a lot of work to do before Carolyn arrived to use the pool and she wanted to be clearheaded for this visit, so she could not afford to oversleep.
She hugged a pillow tight as she curled up beneath the covers, letting her mind wander to Carolyn Black once more. The actress had done a lot for Key Line, playing the role of criminal investigator Diana Maddox in their hugely successful audiobook series. It was hardly surprising that she saw herself as the logical choice for the lead in the movie.
Annelie’s stomach clenched at the thought of having to disappoint her. Carolyn obviously wanted the role, and she had the necessary acting credentials. She’d won a Tony in her younger years and various film awards later in her career. But her impressive record cut little ice with Annelie’s potential distributors. They’d already decided a younger star would have more box office appeal and had their sights set on Sylvia Goodman, an up-and-coming actress who’d attracted attention for her supporting roles in several major films. The fact that Diana Maddox was forty plus in the novels made no difference. In screen adaptations, everything was up for grabs.
Fastening her grip around her pillow, Annelie sighed. She was trying to keep an open mind about Goodman. The tall, fair-haired beauty had been pronounced the new Sally Field by some gushy columnists, and she certainly had the right look for Maddox when she wore a dark wig as she had in several recent supporting roles. Still, in Annelie’s mind she lacked certain key sensibilities Carolyn Black possessed in abundance. Carolyn brought maturity and dimension to her roles that few younger actresses could equal. But what did that really buy these days? Audiences had been trained to accept shallow performances as long as a movie was exciting and delivered some titillating sex scenes.
Annelie wanted to make more than one Maddox film, so everything depended on how the critics and the audience received the first movie. As far as she could see, sacrificing Carolyn for Sylvia came down to simple pragmatism. Annelie didn’t have the luxury of indulging her own personal preferences; too much was at stake.
*
Carolyn reached for the phone, automatically checking the bedside clock. Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw the caller ID. What was her younger sister doing calling at two in the morning?
“Beth? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Really.” Her voice was high-pitched. “Sorry to call you so late, but I just couldn’t wait to tell you.”
“It’s okay.” Carolyn elbowed herself upright. She could hear a male in the background, her sister’s husband Joe.
“I’m pregnant!” Beth’s voice cracked, and she started to cry.
“Oh, honey. That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you and Joe.”
After a muted rattle, her brother-in-law started talking. “Hi, Carolyn. Beth just got a little emotional. S
he’ll be fine, but I wish she could’ve waited until tomorrow to tell you.”
The actress felt a pang of guilt for not remembering to return Beth’s call earlier. “Is everything okay with her and the baby? When did you find out?”
“This morning. Everything seems normal this time. But she’s only six weeks pregnant, so she’s nervous. We both are.”
“I know.” Beth had suffered two miscarriages in a row, both in her eighth week. After the second, she had fallen into a deep depression. “Put her back on, would you, darling,” Carolyn said, thinking quickly.
“I’m here.” Beth’s voice seemed a little stronger.
“Beth, honey, listen to me. Why don’t you take a leave of absence until you’re past the first trimester? I’ll help with the bills. You and the baby are all that really matter right now. Please, kiddo?”
“Oh, Lyn. I don’t think Joe would like that, but thanks anyway.”
“Talk to him. Joe only wants what’s best for you. He knows this isn’t about his pride. Please.”
“All right.” Beth paused. “You’re happy for me, aren’t you? You don’t think I’m asking for trouble, trying again?”
Carolyn’s heart almost broke at the tentative voice of her little sister. Beth had needed her more than ever when their father died. She was only ten and heading for puberty. A cousin of their father had offered to raise the young girl but was not interested in their teenaged brother John. Not about to let anyone break up what remained of her family, Carolyn resisted and became her younger siblings’ legal guardian.
She had carried the burden of supporting them on far too narrow shoulders. Maintaining their childhood home swallowed most of the monthly allowance from her father’s life insurance, and she’d constantly hunted for part-time work until she landed the daytime soap role that had launched her career.
Like her, her brother John grew up too quickly, and she sometimes thought this was why his behavior was so often spoiled and childish now. Beth was different. Always interested in and proud of Carolyn’s professional achievements, her warmhearted sister made it clear in her unaffected way that she loved Carolyn deeply regardless of her star status. The fact that her sister was now a grown woman of thirty-four didn’t matter. Carolyn still felt responsible.
