Authors: Val Tobin
Injury (11 page)
The overarching sensation pervading her body, which was more
an absence of feeling if she thought about it, was a floating numbness. Dani
lay curled in the fetal position on the couch, a thick blanket covering her.
John sat on the armchair ninety degrees and two feet from her head. The TV ran,
mute. News headlines scrolled across the bottom, and the handsome newscaster
flapping his gums filled the rest of the screen.
“You don’t have to stay.” Dani turned her head so John was
in her field of vision.
Light faded from the room while afternoon melted toward
evening. They’d been in Dani’s apartment for hours though Dani wasn’t sure how
many. John had served tea. The large pot, the milk and sugar, and their mugs
still sat on the coffee table. The tea service sat on a tray, the mugs on
coasters. That was important. The coffee table was new, and it had been
considerate of John to use the tray and coasters.
The recognition that her mind rambled moistened Dani’s eyes.
She ducked her face down so he wouldn’t see. Every time the waterworks started,
John became overly solicitous and concerned. Didn’t he realize she just needed
to cry?
“I’m not leaving you alone. Can we call Cope now?”
John had been pestering her to call Cope. Her boyfriend. The
one who’d told her to watch out for Henderson, who’d asked her to let him know
if Henderson ever did anything inappropriate. She’d promised, but how could she
tell Cope what had happened? What if he blamed it on her?
“Dani? Honey, you need someone here. I don’t want to leave
you alone.”
John wants to go home
to his wife, his kids.
Naturally, he wanted that—needed it—after what had
happened today. No doubt, he wanted to let the domesticity and normalcy ease
the stress. John could escape, and Dani wanted him to. The fewer people to
suffer over this the better.
Dani pictured Cope walking into the apartment, hurrying to
comfort her, then finding out the sordid details. She’d talked to the lawyer,
and he’d told her the case would be difficult to prosecute.
The footage from
Injury
proved she’d willingly done this with Henderson before, but Danger Play still
planned to fire him. It boiled down to PR. Tears threatened again. Some version
of the story would go public regardless of what she wanted.
Dani sat. “Okay, I’ll call Cope.” She picked up her purse
from the floor next to the couch and snatched the phone from it. The wheels
were in motion. As soon as word leaked out that Henderson was off the picture,
the media would dig. If they found out Dani was responsible and the reason for
it, it’d be all over the news. That’s not how she wanted Cope to hear of it.
She punched the number to speed dial him.
“Robert Copeland speaking.”
Thank God
“Robert,
it’s me.” Dani hiccupped, and her voice sounded thick with crying.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen on the film? Is it
Henderson?”
The accuracy of his suspicions offset the relief at hearing
his voice. “Yes. Can you come over? I need you.”
“What did he do?”
The fury in Cope’s voice frightened her. “I’ll tell you when
you get here. It’s okay now, but I need you here. Can you get away?”
“Of course. I’ll be right there.”
The call ended, Dani told John one more time he could leave.
Still, he insisted on staying until Cope arrived though Dani could sense John’s
relief that Cope was on his way. Soon, John would hand her off, and he’d be
free to enjoy the peace and quiet of his normal family.
Ashamed there was a time when she’d have tried to break that
normal family up, Dani again pressed him to go. “Your wife will want you home.
It’s all right, John. I’m fine.”
He stood, leaned down, kissed her cheek, and stroked her
hair. “Okay, sweetie. But remember, I’m just a phone call away. Go to your
appointment with Doctor Hadley tomorrow. Therapy does wonders even when you
believe things are fine. Right now, they’re not.”
“I promised I’d go.”
John left, and ten minutes later, Cope arrived. Dani ran to
the door and threw it open, then realized she’d forgotten to check the peephole
first. Guilt flashed across her face, but Cope either didn’t see it, or ignored
it. He swept her into his arms and covered her in kisses. For perhaps the tenth
time that day, Dani burst into sobs.
“What happened?” Cope lifted her in his arms and carried her
to the couch, letting the door slam shut behind him.
Dani raised her face to look into his eyes, so dark and
hypnotizing. Her glance moved down his body, and she nuzzled her head into his
neck.
One of his arms cradled her on his lap, and the other
stroked her cheek. “What happened, Daniella? Tell me.”
So she did, halting when the shame and embarrassment and
fear overwhelmed her, but she did it dry eyed. The arm around Dani tightened
its grip, the stroking on her face paused. Cope’s heart thudded against her
chest when she wrapped her arms around him and clung to him.
“Did anyone call the police?” It was the first thing he said
after listening to the story without interruption.
“No,” she said in a whisper, eyes averted, because now he’d
want to know why. So many valid reasons, but telling him would bring out more
shame, and she’d have to admit their on-camera episode during
Injury
.
The dreaded word came out tinged with agony. “Why?”
“Robert, I can’t. The lawyer thinks we’d lose, and I’d be
dragged through the mud publicly. He advised me not to press charges.”
“What does John say about that?”
Dani shifted to look into Cope’s eyes. “He’s not happy about
it, but he’s not pushing me to do it. The studio fired Greg.” Saying his name
left a foul taste in her mouth, and she grimaced. “They’ll rewrite the script,
use what footage they’ve got, and shoot other scenes to fill in the blanks.
Ferguson might need to do a scene or two with Greg, and they still intend to
pay him, but my scenes with him are done. Essentially, he’s off the picture.
His character will die, and I’ll get a new partner.”
Cope leaned back against the sofa, pulling her with him, his
hand once again stroking her hair. “I knew that son-of-a-bitch still had a
thing for you. I saw that interview he did after your mother’s arrest. Was he
drunk when he did this?”
“Not drunk, but not sober.”
“Not sober means drunk, Dani.”
“Not with Greg. I’ve seen him worse. He could still
function.”
“Clearly.”
That made her laugh a little, and she actually felt lighter.
“I’ll see my therapist tomorrow?”
“Is that a question?”
“No.” She smiled into his chest, so strong and reassuring.
“I’m going. John insisted on making the appointment, and it might help.”
“If you’re asking my opinion, you should go. This must have
traumatized you. I’m sorry it happened. What can I do to help?”
“You don’t think it’s my fault?” Dani said it in a small
voice, timid, fearful. It had haunted her through the bulk of the afternoon
while she’d quivered on the couch.
“You have a low opinion of me if you believe I’d blame you
for being raped by a drunken jackass. Don’t beat yourself up for what happened.
It’s not your fault. Henderson attacked you. He ignored you when you told him
no. That’s the definition of rape.”
Relieved that Cope still wanted her, Dani sat up, spun
around to straddle him, and kissed his lips. “Thank you for being so wonderful.
Can we still go somewhere together on the weekend? I’m not working tomorrow,
then there’s a shoot on Saturday during the day, but I’m all yours by dinner
time.”
“I’ll plan something special.” Cope looked over her shoulder
and frowned.
Wondering what had caught his eye, Dani turned around and
gazed at the TV. An image of Henderson and Dani displayed behind the
newscaster. She grabbed the remote and turned up the sound. “… made no comment.
We will continue to update as the story unfolds.”
“Oh, God. The media have the story already.” Dani’s heart
froze. What had they found out? What had they told the world? And what was Greg
Henderson saying about it?
According to the media, Henderson was off the picture due to
creative differences. The phone calls from reporters, which had died off while
her mother’s case languished waiting for the trial to start, sparked up again.
Dani had flashbacks to the morning she’d found out her
father was dead when she awoke the next day to the phone ringing off the hook.
Fooled once before, she didn’t pick up this time and listened to the pleas for
a statement over voice-mail.
The limo waited for her in the parking garage where the
reporters couldn’t get to her. The visit to the therapist went well, and Dani
was happy she’d kept the appointment. When she returned to the apartment, the
crush of reporters surrounding the building made her want to escape.
Speed-dialing Cope, she asked him to meet her for lunch.
As the driver steered the car to a nearby restaurant, Dani’s
nerves fluttered. This was their first time in public as a couple. At least
they were meeting at a restaurant Cope favored. The paparazzi and her fans
wouldn’t expect her to show up there. Now, she wished she’d gone home and
changed into something casual that wouldn’t attract attention.
The car pulled up in front of the restaurant, and Mark came
around to open her door. Dani stepped out, mindful of her short skirt and
three-inch heels. Heat shimmered off the sidewalk, but she’d brought her suit
jacket to cover the spaghetti straps of her tank top. Loose hair grazed her
shoulders, falling in a cascade of ringlets. Everyone on the sidewalk turned to
stare.
Dani gave a half-smile to a young boy about thirteen. When
his gaze met hers, he turned to his mother and shouted, “Mom, that’s Daniella
Grayson. She
smiled
at me.”
The mother turned doe eyes on Dani and stopped walking.
“Miss Grayson, my son is such a huge fan of yours. I know you’re probably busy,
but could we get an autograph?”
Dani stopped and beamed a smile at the woman. She always had
time for her fans, especially the polite ones. If it weren’t for them, she
wouldn’t be where she was. “Of course.” She’d always felt too self-conscious to
carry around photos of herself, but she had a pen and notepad.
She signed the paper for the boy, who said his name was
Andrew, and handed it to him. Gaze falling to the mother’s cell phone, she
said, “Andrew, would you like your mom to take our picture with her phone?”
Andrew looked as if he might pass out and nodded his head so
vigorously she was afraid it would drop off. “Oh, man, yes, please. The guys
won’t believe this.”
Dani let the mom snap a couple of pictures, but by then, a
crowd had gathered, and others wanted photos and autographs. Not sorry she’d
stopped for the boy, but uneasy with the crowd building around her, Dani
glanced at the door to the restaurant. A polite smile on her face, she edged
toward the entrance. “Thank you, everyone, I need to get inside now, or I’ll be
late for my date.”
A mic appeared under her chin, and a woman wearing a press
badge blocked her path. “Adriana Miller, Miss Grayson. TETN. Who’s waiting for
you inside? Is it Greg Henderson? Are the two of you back together?”
Dani shook her head and pulled away, scanning the area for
Mark or Cope. The restaurant was casual and didn’t have security at the door.
The crowd pressed in around her, and the reporter continued to shove the
microphone in her face. “Miss Grayson, what creative differences caused Greg Henderson
to leave
Injury 2
?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss that.”
A man gripped her arm and pulled her to him. “I’ll help you,
Miss Grayson.”
Dani shook with fear when he put an arm around her. Purse
hugged to her chest, she tried to extricate herself from the man’s embrace. He
inched her through the crowd but headed away from the restaurant.
“No, please. I need to get into the restaurant.” She’d been
so stupid to come here, to think they could have a quiet lunch. A sob escaped
her lips, of frustration, of anger, of fear. Cope wouldn’t know where she was.
Panic rose, and she twisted away from the man who had his arm around her.
“Dani?” Cope’s voice penetrated the roar of the crowd.
Oh, thank God.
“Robert!” She saw his head above the sea of people around her and waved at him.
“Miss Grayson, is that man, Robert, your boyfriend?” The
reporter was back.
A desire to shove the mic into the woman’s face became
almost overwhelming, but Dani restrained herself. Gaze locked on Cope’s, she
waved her hand to make sure he didn’t lose her in the crowd. At least they were
both tall.
After what seemed an eternity, the crowd in front of her
parted, though not willingly. Cope elbowed his way through to her, and she fell
into his arms. Hands on each side of her face, he tilted her head up and
planted a kiss on her lips.
“Come on. I’ll get us in there.”
That he did it without the involvement of a security team or
the police force impressed Dani. No fans were harmed or offended. Once inside,
Dani relaxed, though she continued to huddle under Cope’s strong, capable arm.
He guided her to the table where he’d been sitting when the
crowd outside had caught his attention. “This is why you need a bodyguard and
not just a chauffeur.”
“Okay.” Dani wasn’t going to argue, remembering the guy who’d
put his arm around her and tried to steer her away. “I’m sorry, Cope. This
young kid wanted my autograph, and it snowballed. I didn’t think I’d make it in
here. Thank God, you came out.”
“It’s not your fault, but I don’t want you going out without
a bodyguard again. I’ve got connections. There’s a guy who’ll be working for me
once I open for business who can drive you around starting tomorrow. I can take
care of the details, but you’ll have to authorize the tab.”
“Okay. I trust you.”
Trust
you.
Yes, she trusted Cope with her life. The urge to jump across the table
and cover him in kisses hit her and made her smile.
“What’s with the evil grin?”
“Just thinking how much I want to, well, attack you where
you sit. One drawback of going to a restaurant to eat is you can’t fornicate in
public. Maybe we should just stay home for meals.”
Cope chuckled, and they both looked up when the waitress
appeared. The rest of the lunch date turned out to be a pleasant and relaxing
interlude. At the end of it, Dani waited in the restaurant while Cope had the
limo brought around, and then walked with him to where Mark stood waiting.
Despite the crush of reporters and flashing cameras, Dani gave Cope a
passionate farewell kiss and promised him a nice dinner when he came over that
night.