Never Land (9 page)

            And that night onstage, we were better than ever. The energy and the passion that had driven our O2 performance was nothing compared to the pure ecstasy I felt onstage that night. All I had to do was look over at Danny to be reminded of the intense pleasure he had made me feel, the way he made me feel so alive, so full of energy, so full of possibility – feelings that I channeled into my song, my voice wavering and bellowing in turn as the song grew first soft, then loud, first sad, then powerful. The audience was lapping it up – they were screaming and shouting and crowding ever-closer to the front row to get the most out of our performance. And Danny's guitar, I noted, was more powerful even than Geoff. While Geoff had plenty of raw, natural talent, Danny brought something else to the strings of his guitar, as his solos echoed off the walls of the room. Quick, expert technique – the result of many years' practice – combined with his natural instinctive sense for rock sound served to create solos that were not just support for the main melody but rather, like classical music sonatas or symphonies, pieces of genuine art in themselves.

            When we finished the performance that night I was drenched in sweat, adrenaline running high. The aftermath felt, like it always did, like a dream, as we were hurried from the stage into another black-leather-paneled VIP area, champagne piled high for us to drink, gorgeous groupies waiting backstage for us. I was tempted to stay, to taste some of the most expensive-looking cocktails I'd ever seen, which were waiting for us on a table that seemed to be made entirely out of ice, but Danny came up behind me and put his arms around my waist, nuzzling my ear, suggesting he had other plans. “All that playing,” he said, “it makes me realize just how talented you are. And talent, love, is very – very sexy. What do you say we go back to mine?”

            I didn't even think about hesitating. Within moments I was in Danny's car, speeding through London to get to his Camden apartment, already aroused by the mere thought of Danny's fingers, Danny's body. No sooner had we gotten into the elevators of the building than we were kissing passionately, hungrily, our bodies fused together by desire. But when we arrived in the penthouse, Danny frowned, turning towards the bedroom.

            “I didn't leave that light on...” he muttered, looking worried. “Do you mind waiting here for a second, Neve?”

            I nodded as Danny tiptoed into the bedroom. I tensed up. Who could it be? A burglar – a crazed fan...I shuddered as I remembered John Flint...

            But instead I heard a female voice. Drunk, unbalanced, but still seductive even as she slurred her words. I tiptoed closer to the door, hearing the sound of loud, powerful female sobs. When I got close enough to make out the source of the tears, my mouth fell open. It was Veronica Taylor.

            “Please...” she was saying. “I've wanted this for so long.” I peered through the crack in the door in shock. Roni was completely naked except for a peach satin negligee that left little of her slender frame to the imagination. “Danny, please.” She leaned in and kissed him quickly – all over his cheeks, his neck, his shoulders, her hands making for his jeans zipper at the groin until his hand stopped her.

            Rage and pain washed over me, blinding me with shock and fury. So – Roni still believed she had a claim on Danny? But did he...

            “Roni...” Danny's voice was stiff, full of warning. “Please – you're drunk, you're tired, you need to go home.”

            “I'm not!” she protested. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “I made the worst mistake of my life, Danny. I'm trapped. You have to help me. I loved you – the whole time. Only ever you. I loved you so much that when you left I was angry, jealous. I wanted to get back at you for going away. But I regret...I've made such a mistake.”

           
“Roni, please...” Danny was saying, trying to push her away. But was that a look of desire – however involuntary – that I saw glint across his eye?

            “Just once, I want to feel you inside me again,” Roni was pleading. “It was good for you, wasn't it, Danny? How it used to be?”

            I could see that Danny was struggling to push her away. As she wrapped her arms around him, pushing him on the bed and straddling him with her toned, tan legs, I wondered what he would have done if I weren't here. Would he have succumbed to her fragile beauty – her passion?

            “Roni, for goodness' sake, you're my
stepmom
 now? Isn't that enough of a no? You shouldn’t be here.”

            “I don't care!” she cried. “Danny, it's you I love – not your father.”

            “Well, you married him!” Danny grew angry – so angry that I could not help wondering whether his righteousness belied deeper feelings. “You made your own bed, Roni, now lie in it. I've moved on – and you need to, too.”

            “I can't stop thinking about you, Danny,” she moaned. “I can't stop loving you. Nobody else can make love to me the way you can...”

            I closed my eyes, feeling the tears seep in. I couldn't stand this pain, this jealousy, a moment longer. At that moment I didn't care that Danny was pushing Roni away, that he didn't want her. All I knew was that the secrets of his past were welling up, that I couldn't deal with more ghosts, more problems between us. Measuring up to Peyton was one thing – but there were only so many women I could compete with in the hopes that one day Danny would love me, only me! Tears streaming down my face, I ran from the apartment and made my way to the lobby, hailing a cab back to my hotel.

Chapter 11

When I arrived back at our hotel, my eyes still wet with tears, all I wanted was to hide – to run upstairs to my room and pull the covers over my head. But as I entered the hotel lobby, I stopped short. Luc was sitting alone, sipping a drink, his expression melancholy. I approached him, surprised. I couldn't believe Luc was alone tonight – not if the number of groupies I'd seen hanging off him was anything to go by.

            “Hey Neve,” Luc's whole face lit up when he saw me. “Come on over!”

            “What, no groupies tonight, Luc?” I meant to sound light, merry. But clearly my pain spilled over into my words, and my voice became bitter, even angry.

            But Luc remained cool. All he said was “I was never into groupies, Neve. You know that.” He lowered his eyes. Then he looked back up into my own, taking in my splotchy, tear-stained face. “Oh, Neve – what's happened?”
            “Nothing...” I sniffed, but it was clear that I was lying. Nobody was a good enough actress to explain away the mascara running in rivulets down my cheeks.

            “I thought you and Danny went off after the show. Did something happen?” Luc looked worried. “Is everything OK? If he hurt you, I swear, Neve, I'll...” his voice trailed off.

            “No, it's fine,” I insisted, knowing that my protestations would be in vain. Luc and I had been friends forever, and he knew me far too well to let me get away with these lies.

            “It's not fine, Neve,” he said gently. “You've clearly been crying. Come here,” he pulled me in for a tight, warm hug. A hug that spelled warmth, friendship – that made me feel so safe, so secure, so taken care of after the stress of the last few days. I burst into tears. “Whatever it is, Neve, you can tell me. I promise. You know that, don't you?”

            “Yes,” I sobbed.

            “What happened?” Luc pulled back, his fingers gently brushing a tear from my eyes. “Oh Neve, Neve, Neve, I hate to see you hurt like this. Let's get out of here, go someplace quiet so we can talk, okay?”

            I nodded and he took my hand and led me to the elevator. No sooner had we entered the elevator than I saw Danny burst into the lobby of the hotel building, his eyes wild, his expression full of pain.

            “Neve!” he called out, rushing towards me. He was breathless – clearly he'd rushed over here. “Let me explain...” His eyes fell upon Luc's hand on mine and they widened with worry. But I was too angry, too frustrated to worry about his feelings just then.

            “I don't want to talk right now,” I said.

            “Neve, believe me, I can explain everything.”
            “Danny, I'm tired,” I said, hearing my voice grow cold and weary. “I just want to go to bed. I'll call you later, okay?”

            Luc took a warning step forward as the elevator doors closed on Danny's stricken, anguished face. I couldn't think about that right now. All I could think about was my own pain as I collapsed into Luc's arms, sobbing.

            When we got to my room, Luc sat me down on the sofa, his strong arms around me. It felt good to be sitting with Luc like this. He was always the one I could rely on, the one who had comforted me whenever I needed a friend. Sitting with Luc like this – it reminded me of when we were kids, when some schoolyard bullying or mean girl's taunt sent me into floods of tears.

            I couldn't help but laugh. “Remember that time you found me at the gym? After Stacey Stanford made fun of my military jacket and told me that none of the girls in my grade would be friends with me?”

            Luc laughed, too. “Yeah,” he said. “You were sitting in the corner of the gym, wearing this huge satin jacket with military lapels – and those horrid girls had torn them off you...”

            I imitated Stacey Stanford's high-pitched voice. “Someone has to teach you what's acceptable and what's not, Never Knight.” I sighed. “I really loved that jacket, you know? Dad had it made for me to match one of his. I was so proud of that jacket – I wore it everywhere...”

            “But we fixed it, remember? You and I?”

            “And your mom,” I added. Mrs. Alamo had whipped out her needle and thread and put my jacket together in a jiffy. But now, I felt, my heart sinking, my problems would be a lot harder to solve. I sighed.

            “Mom loves you like a daughter, Neve,” said Luc. “And if she saw you crying, you know what she'd do?”

            “Force feed me some pasta until I felt better?”

            “She'd say “
una bella ragazza
like you can't be sad. Show me the
stronzo
who made you cry and I'll show him how
la mamma
handles things!”

            Sitting with Luc like this felt so comfortable, so natural. I almost instinctively began to pour out my heart to him. “It's awful,” I started. “Danny's stepmom...” I stopped short, realizing how selfish I was being. I knew how Luc felt about me, and I knew how much talking about Danny would hurt him. “Never mind,” I said. “I don't really want to talk about it.”

            “Danny's stepmom?” My heart sank as a brief flash of jealousy appeared on his face. “So you met his family?”

            “They live in London now,” I explained, “so...”

            “So Danny's stepmom? What can be so bad about her? Doesn't want to share her boy?” He chuckled. But one sight of my stricken face made him frown. “No, really – is it that?”

            I nodded.

            “But not...in a gross way?”

            I nodded again.

            “Like...
that
way?”

            “She's twenty-one,” I said. “And a supermodel.”

            “And she...”

            I found myself telling Luc everything, as he egged me on to hear more, reacting with just as much shock and disgust as I felt.

            “I can't believe I'm saying this,” Luc said, “Because after all, I do have a vested interest in the matter – but it sounds like this one genuinely isn't Danny's fault. He's not interested in this woman – and honestly, who would be? She sounds like a serious creep. And it sounds like he's been faithful to you...even if I do wish you and he weren't together, I have to admit it. If it's meant to be, this woman isn't going to get in your way.”

            I was overcome by relief and gratitude at Luc's words. I knew how hard it must be for him to act like this with me, like a true friend. I threw my arms around him. “Luc, you always seem to know what to say,” I said.

            Luc stiffened, his voice growing husky. “If only I did,” he said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. “If so, I would have said a few things sooner...”

            As I looked up at him, I suddenly became conscious of how close he was to me, of how near our bodies were to one another, entwined in a hug on his sofa. For a moment I wanted nothing more than to stay like this, wrapped in his arms, feeling like this. But I knew for both our sakes, I needed to keep my distance. I pulled away. “I should go to bed,” I said.

            “No, I should go...” said Luc. “You're clearly...having a bad day, and I should leave you alone to deal with this. But if you ever need a friend, you know, I'm right down the hall.” He smiled softly as he went out.

            Yet after he closed the door behind him, I didn't feel remotely relieved. I knew Luc's words about Danny were true, but I also knew they didn't tell the whole story. It seemed that every time Danny and I got closer, every time it seemed as if our relationship might have a hint of a chance, some new complication separated us. First Peyton – whose photographs were plastered all over his walls even now – then his father – and now Roni. Why did everything always have to be so messy? I thought of Luc – stalwart, steadfast Luc, who had offered me a pure and simple love, and whom I had rejected, because next to Danny Blue's mesmerizing eyes, everything else fell short. But were those eyes, was that beauty, was that incredible smile just going to get me hurt in the end?

            A knock sounded at the door. My heart leaped. Was it Danny – come to explain? But as I opened the door, my jaw dropped in utter shock. Standing before me, dressed in an exquisite camel-colored trenchcoat that showed off her svelte figure, was Veronica Taylor herself. Before even waiting for an invitation she sauntered past me into the room.

            “What are you doing here?” I said, feeling my face flush hot.