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Authors: Danielle Steel

One Day at a Time (25 page)

BOOK: One Day at a Time
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“The doctor says he's pretty big,” Jane said, looking anxious for a minute. She wasn't looking forward to the birth. The thought of it terrified her, but Liz would be there coaching her. More than once she had wished that they had impregnated her instead. “His father was six foot five, so he should be pretty tall.” Jane was quite tall herself, and Coco was the same size, although in her mind's eye, Jane was always much taller, since she had been when she was a child. That was the memory that had stuck with her.

Coco left them to go to work then, and she dropped Sallie off at their place on Thursday afternoon. They were leaving for L.A. the next day, and Coco was flying to Venice via Paris. She was already packed and wildly excited about it. She and Leslie were talking two and three times a day, and he was thrilled that she was coming.

When she dropped Sallie off, Jane was out, and Liz invited her in for a cup of tea. Coco had just finished work, and she was leaving at the crack of dawn the next morning.

“How are things going with Leslie?” Liz asked her as they sipped their tea.

“Unbelievably well,” Coco said, beaming at her. “I still can't believe it happened, or figure out why he wants me.”

“He's lucky to have you,” Liz said with a look of conviction. She had always hated the way Jane gave her such a hard time. The dynamic between the two sisters pained her, and she had always hoped that Coco would break the ties that bound her one day. But Coco hadn't gotten there yet. The age difference between them, and their history, had always done her a disservice.

“We seem to have gotten off pretty lucky with the press so far,” Coco said cautiously. “It scares me, but hopefully they won't get too crazy over us. I know Jane thinks they'll eat me alive, but it's not like I just got out of jail or am a drug addict or something.”

“Dropping out of law school, living in Bolinas, and running a dog-walking business are not felonies, the last time I checked,” Liz said wisely, “contrary to the impression your sister may have given you. You're a respectable person, work for a living, and you're a terrific woman. They can't do much with that,” Liz reassured her, and Coco sighed.

“Jane thinks he's going to dump me for someone else in a hot minute. And I worry about that too,” she confessed. “There's a lot of temptation in that business, and he's human like everyone else.”

“He seems to be a human who's very much in love with you,” Liz reminded her. She had heard from Jane about the dressing-down Leslie had given her, which Liz thought was a good sign of his love for Coco. “There are plenty of solid relationships and good marriages in this business. You just don't hear about them, because the tabloids would rather talk about the bad ones. Have a little faith in yourself, and in Leslie. He's a good guy.” Coco basked in the warmth of what she was saying and visibly relaxed.

“I can't wait to see him in Venice,” Coco said with a happy smile.

“You deserve a break. I can't remember the last time you took a vacation.” Not since she had gone on vacation with Ian three years before, as far as Liz could recall. It was about time she came back to life again, and it was obvious that she had. “I can't wait to hear about it when you get back.”

They talked about the baby then, and how excited Liz was about it. She said Jane was too, and was getting used to the idea that it was a boy. She said they were turning the guest room into a nursery, and planned to interview baby nurses in L.A. Coco was excited about it too. She had never expected to have a niece or nephew, and Chloe had reminded her that summer of how great kids could be.

She was leaving just as Jane returned, and for once Jane looked happy and relaxed in an outfit that showed off her protuding belly. Coco couldn't help smiling at it and told Jane she had just dropped Sallie off to stay with Jack.

“Have fun in Venice,” Jane said, sounding gentler for a change. She was in good spirits and said she had just seen the doctor again. Everything was fine, and the baby's heartbeat was strong. She had already started an album with pictures from their sonograms, which sounded funny to Coco. The sentimental gesture was so unlike her, she wondered if she'd be a good mother after all. Neither of them had a strong role model on that score, since their own mother had been anything but maternal. She was competent and responsible, but much more interested in her career and her relationship with her husband than she had ever been in her children. She had forged a relationship with Jane ultimately, as she grew up, but had never managed it with Coco. They had too little in common. Coco had always been the odd man out. She had come along too late, and was too different from all of them to ever feel welcome in their midst. “Call us when you get back!” Jane said as she left, and Coco drove back to Bolinas, thinking about Leslie and Venice and everything they would do there together. She couldn't wait to see him on the set, and to take a few days traveling around Italy with him. He had already promised her a gondola ride under the Bridge of Sighs, which, he had been told and reported to her, would ensure that they would be together forever. It sounded good to her.

Her mother called her that night and invited her down for the weekend, since Jane and Liz were coming, and Coco explained that she was going to Venice to see Leslie.

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” her mother asked her, sounding suspicious. “You don't want to run after him, dear. It might make him feel like you're stalking him.”

“I'm not stalking him, Mom,” Coco said, rolling her eyes as she listened. “He
wants
me to come. He said so.”

“All right. If you're sure. But he must be very busy if he's making a movie. Men don't like it when women hang all over them. It makes them feel smothered.” Coco wanted to ask her if Gabriel felt “smothered” by her, but she didn't. She didn't want to get upset fighting with her mother. Besides her mother and Jane always won.

“Thank you for the advice,” Coco said tersely, wondering what she had ever done to deserve them. Her sister thought she was just a notch on his belt, and not a very attractive one, soon to be replaced by someone more glamorous and better-looking. And her mother thought she was stalking a movie star, who didn't really want to see her. Why was it that neither of them could imagine that she was worthy of him, and he truly loved her? “How's Gabriel?” she asked, to change the subject.

“Wonderful!” she said, sounding radiant over the phone. Her romance interested her a great deal more than Coco's, and she had no trouble imagining that he adored her. It was much harder for her to imagine that Leslie was equally in love with Coco. “We're having dinner with Jane and Liz this weekend.” She was a little apprehensive about it, knowing how tough her older daughter could be, and how critical, but she was excited to have Gabriel spend time with them, and share their happiness with them. Coco thought she was being naive, and Jane would use every opportunity to find fault with him and turn it against their mother later.

“Have fun,” she said to her mother as they hung up. And she was annoyed with herself later when she realized that her mother had scored a hit again. She was suddenly worrying that maybe she was forcing herself on Leslie and he didn't want her there as desperately as he said.

“I will
not
listen to them,” she said to herself, as she zipped her suitcase closed at midnight. “Mom and Jane are full of shit. They hate me, they have always hated me, and I don't care what they say. He loves me, and I love him, and that's all I need to know. He
wants
to see me, and we are going to have a wonderful time in Venice.” She said the whole speech out loud, and was proud of herself. And as Coco walked out on the deck and looked up at the stars, she prayed that everything would be all right when she got there. After that, she walked back inside and went to bed, and reminded herself that twenty-four hours later she would be in Venice, with the love of her life. It didn't get better than that, movie star or not. She wasn't going to question it, or dwell on what her mother had said. She was going to fly to Italy and have the time of her life.

Chapter 15

Coco made the same trip that Leslie had made almost two
weeks earlier. The only difference was that he had made it in first class, and she flew in coach. Leslie had offered to buy her a first-class ticket too. But Coco liked to pay her own bills, and had refused. It was a long, eleven-hour cramped flight from San Francisco to Paris. She had slept fitfully on the flight, and she arrived feeling rumpled and dirty. She was too excited to fall into a deep sleep, and had watched four movies. She had a three-hour layover in Paris, where she managed to take a shower in the public bathroom, and have something to eat at an airport café. And she was starting to get seriously sleepy when she boarded the plane to Venice. She dozed off right after takeoff, fell into a heavy sleep, and the flight attendant had to wake her when they landed. It was the middle of the night for her, and she felt as though she had been traveling for days.

She had gone through customs in Paris, so all she had to do in Venice was walk off the plane, and get her passport stamped by immigration on the way out. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and combed her hair before getting off. She had worn an old sweatshirt on the flight to Paris, but had changed into a new black sweater and black leather flats before disembarking in Venice. And as she left the plane, carrying a large tote bag, she saw Leslie waiting for her on the other side of immigration. It was lunchtime in Venice and the late October sun was very bright. But brightest of all was the look of joy in his eyes. He was thrilled to see her and swept her into his arms immediately, took the heavy bag from her, and walked her out of the terminal to a waiting limousine. He handed the driver her baggage stubs, and he went to claim her luggage while Leslie kissed her passionately in the car and told her how glad he was to see her. They both acted as though they hadn't seen each other in months, although it had been two days shy of two weeks.

“I was so afraid something would happen and you wouldn't come,” he admitted to her. “I can't believe you're here!” He looked ecstatic.

“Me neither. How's the movie going?”

“We have two days off. And I think they're giving us next weekend off too.” It was perfect. “I booked us into a hotel in Florence next week,” he said, beaming. He could hardly keep his hands off her as the driver appeared with her bags, put them in the trunk, and got back in the car. They were riding in a stretch Mercedes, which the producer had brought in from Germany, specially for him. He said the film was going well, although he and Madison had had some problems, but he didn't go into detail. All he wanted was to concentrate on Coco now that she was here.

It was a relatively short drive from the airport to the enormous parking lot, where they had to leave the limousine, and from there he had rented an enormous
motoscafo,
a speedboat, to take them to the Gritti Palace, where he was staying. The rest of the crew and some of the stars were staying at other smaller hotels, but he and Madison had been given suites at the Gritti, which was considered the most luxurious hotel in Venice. Madison had wanted to stay at the Cipriani, but the producer had insisted that it was farther and too complicated for transportation every day. And the director had taken refuge at the Bauer Grunwald, which he insisted he preferred. Leslie was delighted where he was.

The
motoscafo
took them rapidly down the Grand Canal, as Coco looked around her with awe. As they left the parking area, the city began to reveal itself before them. Churches, domes, basilicas, ancient palazzi, and eventually St. Mark's Cathedral and the square were dazzling in the October sun. It was easily the most beautiful place she had ever seen. And Leslie smiled at the look of wonder on her face.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” he said, and then pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He couldn't think of a better place to share with her than this. He had already rented a gondola for that night to take them under the Ponte dei Sospiri, the Bridge of Sighs, on their way to dinner, if she was still awake by then. There were a thousand things he wanted to do with her and show her. This was only the beginning. And he was grateful to have time off to be with her that weekend. They had been working hard.

When they arrived at the Gritti Palace, they were instantly whisked inside, and Leslie took her to their rooms. She had expected him to have a suite, but instead they had given him several suites, joined together, to form a palatial apartment just for him. It was in his contract, but more elegant and luxurious than anything Coco had ever seen. And the view from his windows was spectacular, looking across the canal at other palaces, many of them private and still owned by noble Venetians. It was a remarkable and unique city.

Several of the hotel's formidable staff were bowing and scraping to Leslie, as two maids disappeared to unpack her bags, and a liveried waiter arrived carrying an enormous silver tray with food for her, and a perfectly chilled bottle of Louis Roederer Cristal champagne.

“One gets a little spoiled on location,” Leslie whispered to her with a sheepish grin.

“I'll say,” she said, trying to remind herself that she was here for only a week or two. And when she left, the royal coach she was traveling in with him would turn into a pumpkin again. She had to remind herself of it constantly. Being with Leslie was a totally Cinderella experience, and without a doubt, he was the handsome prince. It was hard to believe that the glass slipper would really fit her in the end. That only happened in fairy tales, but clearly this was one.

They settled onto an enormous yellow satin couch as the waiter poured her tea for her, and served her a plate of exquisite little sandwiches, and then discreetly left the room.

“I'm not sure if I'm Cinderella or Orphan Annie,” she said, looking at Leslie in disbelief. “Last time I looked, I was in Bolinas. How did I ever wind up here?” She hadn't expected anything like this. All she had thought about was being with him again, it never occurred to her what his life would look like on location, or the lengths to which producers went to, to make things comfortable for him. This was way beyond comfortable. It was opulent in the extreme.

BOOK: One Day at a Time
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