Playing a Little (21 page)

“Just keep reading,” Camille laughed, enjoying the show. Erik was dressed in only his flannel pajama bottoms, his light brown hair tousled from lovemaking and the early morning shadow still on his face. Mmmm, he looked more delicious than the breakfast of eggs benedict topped with golden caviar.

“Okay, fine,” Erik pretended to pout, “but you need to remember to call me a heartthrob now and then.”

“You will always make my heart throb, darling. Along with several other parts of my body. Now keep reading,” Camille giggled.

“It says that after shocking the crowd with her stunning beauty, Camille LeCroix was cornered by the tiny-dicked bastard…”

“It does not say that.”

“I am improvising. Makes the story more interesting,” Erik retorted. “They stated that after he flung blatant insults in your direction, your knight in shining armor came to your rescue…”

“Erik…”

“No! Honest! Look…”

Camille took the paper from him and read.

Upon hearing the callous remarks uttered by the ex-star of the Pippi series, Erik Renault threw himself to his damsel’s defense like a knight in shining armor. His men-at-arms, LeCroix’s long-time agent and trusted bodyguard, Stanley Croacher, and the infamous Arthur Crenshaw himself, then saw that Barnes’ departure from the private residence was a memorable one. After Barnes begged for no one to hurt him, he had to be forcefully evicted from the premises. Crenshaw then issued a formal announcement that Barnes was forever banned from Crenshaw Productions and all affiliates. True to the spirit of a fairy-tale princess, LeCroix accepted her fiancé’s offer to dance and spent the rest of the magical evening wrapped in the protection of his gallant arms.

“I have gallant arms,” Erik repeated, flexing for her.

Camille rolled her eyes, amused with his playful banter. “You are a dork, but I love you. Do you really think this will stop Jerry from causing more trouble?”

“Trust me, honey. He will be lucky if he gets to do commercials for genital herpes. His career is over. Why so sad?”

“I don’t know. It just seems like such a waste.”

“Yeah, but everyone has choices to make. Had he kept his mouth shut and not harassed you… Excuse me,” Erik said, picking up his cell phone. Camille continued to read, grateful that the reporter had painted such a beautiful picture despite the events of the night.

“… okay, thanks for the update,” Erik said, sitting on the bed. “That was Arthur. Apparently this little article opened a floodgate. Three actresses have come forth reporting similar circumstance to yours, including Tia Atkins, who played his sister on your series.”

“She was so pretty! How could he have been mean to her, too?”

“Miserable people make people miserable, baby cakes. He is done. Arthur is also getting a restraining order against him, preventing him to come near you, me, or any of Crenshaw’s holdings. The industry will follow his example. There is zero tolerance for this behavior. Arthur is also retaining an attorney to see if we can prosecute him for sexual harassment. Push comes to shove, we will bankrupt him. That nightmare is over.”

“What he said last night, about me being a dressed-up pig…”

“Jealousy and stupidity. Baby, look at yourself. These photographs don’t lie. And neither do I. Kiss me, eat your breakfast, and then get your bottom out of bed. It is already noon and we have things to do today before Arthur comes by.”

“He is coming over? Is he done with the new script?”

“He didn’t tell me.” Erik watched her take a few nibbles and then pulled the tray from her lap. “Change of plans. We make love, then you eat.”

“Hmmm… Good thing I’m flexible when it comes to schedule changes…” Camille said, pulling him into her embrace.

* * *

Arthur burst into the lake house that evening laden with an oversized bouquet of flowers and several bottles of his favorite champagne. Stan followed behind, carrying only his briefcase and a huge grin. Camille stood quietly under Erik’s arm as the two older men bellowed happily over the media coverage of the ball and the upcoming wedding which, in Arthur’s opinion, could not be soon enough.

“Next thing you know, he will be planning the wedding himself,” Erik whispered in her ear.

“Fine with me. I would not even know where to begin…”

“… the best wedding planner I know,” Arthur was stating.

“And there he goes. Just remember what you said,” Erik sighed. “Hey, can we at least sit down? Can I get you something to drink, sweetheart?”

“No, thank you. So, are you two here to celebrate our announcement or to tell us about the new script?” Camille asked as champagne was passed around.

“Both! To our kids! May your lives be filled with endless happiness, success, and sex!”

“Arthur, please! There is a lady present,” Erik scolded as Camille blushed.

“I am so sorry, honey. I should have said sex, happiness, and then success. Cheers!”

“You are incorrigible,” Erik said, lifting his glass. “So? The script?”

Stan handed them both the thick packet. “Here it is. We hope you like it.”

“Stan? Is this your name?” Camille asked, surprised. “I never knew you were interested in making screenplays.”

“Old man Arthur suggested I try my hand at writing and since I know your character better than anyone, I agreed. Plus, it would give me a reason to hang around you just a bit more. I am gonna miss you, kiddo.” His gruff voice did not hide the catch in the back of his throat or the mist in his eyes.

Camille looked at him strangely. She stood and offered him her hand. “Come take a walk with me. I need to talk to you about something.”

Stan nodded, squeezing her hand as he followed her into the aviary. She offered him a seat and then sat across from him.

“You have been there for me ever since I could remember. You were the one who put Band-aids on my knees and kissed away my tears. You saw to it that I was educated and cared for when even my own mother didn’t care. Why?” she asked gently.

“Because somebody had to, Cam. You deserved someone to be there for you and when your mother and I…”

“Stan? Are you my dad?”

Stan sighed and shook his head. “No, sweetheart. I’m not. I do feel responsible for him leaving though.”

“Tell me the truth. All of it. Don’t worry, nothing is going to change how I feel about you.”

“You are such a good girl, Camille. You always have been. Very well. Your parents had separated when your mother was pregnant with you. Shortly after you turned two, your father miraculously returned and was working as a mechanic in the garage I took my car to. He was complaining about how his useless girlfriend gave birth to a carrot-top and that she was demanding child support. I, of course, wanted to see the picture he was passing around. I hate to say, but you were one, uh, unique-looking kid.”

“Oh, I saw those pictures. I was just plain ugly. Hell, I would have stuffed myself back in until I was done,” Camille laughed lightly.

“It still bothered me how a father could be like that. I had no children of my own and would have given anything for one, even a little carrot-topped girl.” Stan smiled, squeezing her hand again. “But there was something in your features that caught my attention, especially your eyes. They had character, an appeal that I did not see very often in child actors. I gave your dad my business card and told him that if he were ever interested, to call me about setting up a photo shoot. He laughed, needless to say, and made a couple of crude comments that there is no reason to repeat. Several months passed when I got a phone call. It was your mother. She said she had found the card and wanted to meet me.”

He took a breath and paused to stare at a hummingbird attacking the hanging fuchsias. “By that time, your appearance was so quirky that you were cute. Your mother was desperate to make money off you, saying that her husband could barely make the rent and her only skills were those of a lonely housewife.”

“But they weren’t married. Uh oh… I think I know where this is going.” Camille bit her lip.

Stan looked at the floor and nodded. “Your mom was an attractive woman and I was lonely. I also knew that she was not married, but I did not care about the lie. Anyway, we hooked up, making all these great plans for when you became famous one day. I was too naive to see that she was using me, thinking that I had some great power to make that happen. After I sold you on a shoot for baby food, I proudly handed her the cut for a whopping 75 bucks. She hit the ceiling, demanding the entire payment.”

“She wanted your share too? Figures.”

“And yours. In the contract I had drawn up, one third of the payment would be placed in a private trust for you. I explained to your mother that this was industry standards and reminded her that we had discussed that arrangement when she first signed the contract. I also informed her that we had agreed that the money she was given was to cover your expenses, not to make her rich. She told me that your father had left her, and that she was desperate and alone. That was when I confronted her in her lie about being married and refused to budge. She started screaming, very loudly, about how she had given me her body for nothing and that everyone was out to get her.”

“I am very familiar with her screaming and her paranoia. Was this at the apartment?”

“Within earshot of every neighbor. I guess the word got around to your father because he showed up at my office and demanded that he, too, be given a cut of your earnings.”

“What? After he bailed on us? Did he say anything about my mother and you, you know, doing it?”

“Yeah. He said he didn’t care if I screwed the whore until my balls fell off; he just wanted the money you made. I told him no. We ended up in a little scuffle.”

“So both my parents were total losers. Why am I not surprised?”

“I told him that if I ever saw him in my office again, I would have him arrested for trespassing. I also told him that I would have every attorney in the industry to help me protect you and your mother from him. I was a bit hotheaded, too, and might have threatened his life if I ever found out he hurt you. Back then, we could get away with these things.” Stan shrugged shamefully.

“Then what happened?”

“He went straight to your apartment, broke in, and began to beat on your mother. A neighbor called the cops and he was arrested and put in jail. She was sent to the hospital and, because of the provision in the contract that would place you in my custody in the event anything happened to your mother, I was permitted to take care of you. When she was discharged, she… She refused to take you again unless I signed her over as your power of attorney. I fought her, letting her know that child abandonment would be pursued and that I would exercise my rights as your legal guardian. I informed her that I would have her declared an unfit mother if she refused to take you back and provide for you. It was a lot of Hollywood smokescreen, but it worked. It wasn’t that I didn’t want you, it was…”

“Not your responsibility,” Camille said softly, understanding.

“But I still felt responsible. Even though you didn’t live with me, I still wanted to make sure you had everything you ever needed. I bullied your mother into signing over your career to me until you turned eighteen. I promised her that all her base expenses would be covered, including a generous allowance to take care of your needs. You know the rest.”

“My father?”

“After he was released from jail, facing charges of domestic violence, he disappeared from the face of the planet. He skipped bail and a warrant for his arrest was set. I helped your mother make provisions in an uncontested fraternity suit that he would have no claim to either your, or her, income if he ever bothered to return.”

“Stan…” Camille looked at him suspiciously.

“Okay, he might have been given a one-way ticket out of the country and some pocket money. But he will not be coming back to make any claims. He is too afraid of me.”

“I never figured you to be such a bully. And I love you for it.” Camille wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek as she settled herself on his lap. “Thank you, for everything. If it weren’t for you, I would not be here today. Stan? I was wondering… would you please walk me down the aisle and give me away as father of the bride?”

Stan’s tough exterior melted and tears fell in joy as he hugged her tightly. “That would be the biggest honor of my life. Thank you, Cam. This… This thing you have been doing with Erik, it has changed you. Made you softer and more confident. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Go sit with the boys and I will show you. Just no laughing, okay?”

“Are you sure? I know it is very personal…”

“Which is why I will share it. I will be in there in a few minutes.”

Camille wandered to the nursery and looked around, taking in all the changes that had happened. She loved this little part of her life, a part where she was free to just laugh and play. A part free from hurt tears and a broken heart. She felt her stress of being an adult melt away as she dressed in little pink overalls and a long-sleeved shirt with hearts on it. After slipping on white ankle socks with tiny pink bows and her favorite sparkly pink sneakers, she turned to the mirror.

With a smile, she parted her long, red hair down the middle and then tied it into two high ponytails, complete with pink bows. She grabbed her stuffed panda and gleefully skipped back to the living room. She giggled as Stan’s jaw went slack. Arthur merely grinned as he raised another glass of champagne in her direction, and Erik… The look of love and pride upon his face was undisguisable. He held his arms out for her and pulled her to sit upon his lap.

“Daddy? I’m thirsty. Can I have some of that?” she asked, pointing to his glass.

“You may have a taste and then I will get you some juice. Did you have a good talk with Uncle Stan?”

“Yes, sir. He loves me lots,” Camille said, completely comfortable in her little-girl persona. Little Cami was now truly a part of who she was.

“Yes, he does. We all do. I was telling him and Uncle Arthur about our play days and how much fun we have had.”

“Does this mean we have to go back home now? I don’t want to. I like it here,” Camille pouted, suddenly realizing that her ‘training’ was complete and the time to film was close at hand. It saddened her.