The Stars Trilogy (31 page)

He went to the bar and poured himself a glass of bourbon whiskey.

“Can I have some of that?”

“No,” he said brusquely but poured her a glass of Château Mouton Rothschild.

She accepted the glass and went out to the balcony. He followed her and leaned on the archway jamb, watching her slowly pace the length of the terrace, sipping her wine. She had the natural grace of a dancer, light and effortless. Her long hair was being swept by the wind here and there, making her look earthy, a wild, exotic flower waiting for the bees to...Shit. He was waxing poetic on her fucking beauty again.

God, he wanted her. Ben forgive him, but he did, with a longing that defied logic.

“There’s an extreme media fascination with your wives, you know?”

“Yeah. They become bigger topics than my movies. I wonder why?”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “Maybe because they’re proof that you can be taken.”

That made him laugh. “You think?”

“Of course, now, I know better.”

He shook his head and drank from his glass.

“You’re this guy that every girl dreams of landing. Girls grew up watching your movies and they nurture an illusion that one day, they will meet you and you will fall in love with them. It’s a fairy tale. You’re a prince charming.”

He snorted. “You heard my latest ex. I was hardly a prince in her eyes.”

“Because she woke up from the dream. And she didn’t have you. But she was one of the hopefuls. Sadly, the prince is like mercury. Elusive. Hard to hold.”

She had a way with words, too. Too bad he cannot have his way with her like he usually did. He was not a sentimental man, that was why he didn’t have people whom he could really call his best friends. But he was surprised at the amount of respect he was according Ben. Hollywood didn’t know he was friends with Ben. In fact, their association could be summed up in two words. Velvet and Oscar. But those two words covered the best times of his career and that was very important to him. People who added substantial value to his life belonged in his very short list of friends.

“Hard to hold. Now, you’re talking,” he said, his frustration barely contained.

She turned scarlet.

Celine’s eyes slowly dropped to his groin. There was no hiding the huge bulge in his tailored pants.

She smiled nervously and leaned on the railing.

“Please, don’t do that,” he said.

She spread her arms on the railing again and leaned a bit backward.

He stepped a few feet toward her and stopped, frozen, his eyes adopting a look of...fear?

“Celine, get away from the railing. Now.”

His tone was low and soft but she felt it. His fear. Dare was afraid for her? She stared at him. His eyes can’t lie. It was an exhilarating discovery. She straightened and grinned at him. “You sound like Richard Gere.”

“What?”

“Did you know that Pretty Woman, that old movie starring Richard Gere and Julia Roberts was mostly shot here, in this penthouse?”

“I don’t care about that silly rom-com. Move away from the railing, dammit!”

“Oh, you’ve seen it! Edward, Richard’s character was afraid of heights, too, like you.”

“I’m not afraid of heights. I’m a fucking experienced pilot,” he grated, his eyes intense. “I said come here!”

“So, you’re afraid I’d fall?” She copied Julia Robert’s character Vivian. She leaned back on the railing again, teasing him. “Look, no hands, no hands!”

He growled and practically jumped toward her, wrapping her in his steely arms tightly. “You stupid, little...” He made unintelligible cussing sounds.

Her hands were trapped between them. “Your heart is beating really fast, Dare. You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

He bodily lifted her from the railing and brought her to the shade. “I’m afraid we’d land in the freakin’ tabloids tomorrow with that silly stunt of yours, that’s what I’m afraid of!”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to be branded as my next mistress in a dozen rags tomorrow?”

“N-no.” She will die in shame. Or worse, her parents will kill her.

“Then stay away from the railing. Look around you. It’s a firing range for paparazzi and we’re sitting ducks here. Let’s go inside.”

“Oh.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her back to the penthouse.

“It’s just amazing.”

“What?” he snapped.

“How you can scare me to death driving like a maniac without guilt and be afraid of me going near the railing. I mean, I do have hands and a sane mind, you know?”

“I was perfectly in control of the steering wheel. I’m sober. You were never in danger with me in the car.”

“Do you always talk like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re some sort of a god? So in control of everything, always feeling invincible?”

“Didn’t you call me an atheist?”

She sighed. “Someday, you will be tested, Dare.”

“I’m so scared, baby.”

“Oh, you will be. God loves testing his most stubborn subjects.”

“Enough psychobabble. Let’s go have dinner.”

“But it’s still early.”

“Early dinner then.”

“Wait, this suite is twenty-five grand a night. We hardly used it.”

“I’m a frequent client. They give me extra privileges. Or you’d rather want us to spend the night here? What shall we do all night?” he asked her, baiting her.

If she said yes...

“I’d rather have dinner, thank you.”

It was strange to feel disappointment and relief mingle inside him. “Shame. I was warming up to the idea.”

“You just got divorced! Well, not yet official but a done deal.”

“So?”

She rolled her eyes. “Terrible! You!”

“I know. Let’s go.”

She accepted another glass of wine from Dare in the limo.

“Thanks.”

“So when do you start shooting your movie?”

“Why am I not so excited to do that now?” he replied in a sour tone.

Celine grinned. After their meeting with Gabrielle, she felt really comfy with him now. It was as if he had opened a secret door for her to enter. Dare had let her into a very personal chamber of his life. She felt a deeper degree of intimacy developing between them and it wasn’t the sexual kind.

Trust. She so wanted that between them. It was the kind of intimacy that made relationships very strong and lasting.

“Don’t be mad. What have you got to lose by including her in your next project?”

“I’d need an anger management team on my set.”

“Oh come on, imagine how it would look to the public. You and Gabby are still friends even after the divorce everyone’s expecting to be a War of the Roses kind. It’s a complete turnaround from all the tabloid speculations. You will launch her acting career and everyone will say what a kind, generous person you are. Oh, how lovely it is to be divorced by you!”

“Man, you’re the queen of the snarks.”

She grinned at him impishly. “Think about it. Whatever womanizing you did, Gabrielle will absolve you in the eyes of the public by appearing in your movie. It’s actually a win-win situation.”

He grimaced. “You sound like Kelsey.”

“Thanks, but Kelsey is the best.”

Silence.

She was the one to break it. “Can I ask you something?”

He didn’t answer but opened a compartment beside him. He took out a stationery pad and a pen and scribbled something on the paper. He put it on her lap. “Sign that first.”

Curious, she picked up the pad and read what he wrote. She sighed inwardly, a shadow of sadness dampening her bright mood.

So much for trust.

“So, everyone gets to sign something like this?”

“Uh-huh. “

“And if they violate, you sue them?”

“Depends on the extent of disclosure.”

“Oh, there are degrees of offense?”

“As there are degrees of greed.”

“I see.” She tried her best to mask her hurt. She shouldn’t feel bad. It was nothing personal. Carlos told her about it. Every employee must sign it. No exceptions. She was an employee. But she couldn’t help feeling stung by his blatant distrust of her, even after what they’d just shared.

But what had they shared anyway that Dare hadn’t shared with his lawyer?

Oh, some kissing and groping on top of a piano? More kissing and groping in his limo and in you kitchen?

She quietly signed her name on the paper and placed it in the space between them.

She sipped from her wine glass, looking pensively outside the window as they cruised through moderate traffic along Sunset Boulevard.

“You did great awhile back. Thank you. Boyd has been working on this for months with no better result. I was getting impatient.”

She tried to regain her pleasant mood. Any time spent with him was precious. She should not waste it on trivial feelings of self-pity. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m just wondering, how did you know about her shopping habits? Was that a bluff?”

She grinned. If she didn’t know anything about divorces in the US, she knew some about legal separation laws in her country. And she’d heard that tidbit all the time being passed around her circle when some marriages hit Splitsville. She’d guessed it was probably the same in this country, and she was right. “Didn’t you know? Shortly after you got married, they wrote about it in People, Hello and In Style with pics and prices to boot. It’s easy to add things up. Hello did a spread on Gabrielle last year again. Her walk-in closet could rival a posh shop in Rodeo Drive.”

He looked intrigued. “Really?”

“What, you haven’t seen any of it?”

“I don’t read the rags. While we were married, Gabby lived at the Sky View Tower. I lived somewhere else. We didn’t live together. We never did.”

This shocked her. “But...why?”

“She had a lifestyle, I had mine. We saw each other only when we were both available.”

“You mean when YOU were available. She was obviously bitter with the arrangement.”

“Bitter. I find that word really misused and abused. She had a wardrobe like that, spent my money filling it up every season and she’s bitter? Will you please tell me what it really means to be bitter?”

“Well, women shop a lot when they are feeling rejected. It’s a coping mechanism.”

He snorted, exasperated. “What is this, Tyra?!”

“You think that was all she wanted from you? The luxury?”

“Oh yes, she wanted a lot of sex, too and I indulged her as often as I could but I was a very busy guy. Still am. I have several businesses to run, movies to shoot. I can’t live off on sex every day, you know?” he bit out acerbically.

“And yet you had the energy to indulge other women on a frequent basis,” she countered with equal sarcasm. “I know Gabby was telling the truth.”

“Hey, are you on my side or what?”

“No, but I’m playing devil’s advocate, to be fair. She’s not here to defend herself. And I’m a woman. I resent your general view of my species.”

He sighed. “Great, feminist spiel coming right up. I’m so excited.”

“There may be validity to her bitterness, you know?”

“I have the feeling you’re gonna grill my ass until I’ve confessed all my seven deadly sins. So, go ahead.”

“Humor me. I’m just trying to piece this together. You ask a woman to marry you with conditions that are beneficial to you in every way. How do you do the selection? Any criteria? Do they submit application forms? Do you line them up for inspection and interviews?” She couldn’t help her snide tone. What she was discovering about him was way worse than what she first thought.

In her heart, she thought it was all a matter of luck. Dare wasn’t lucky with his past relationships. But she had witnessed firsthand how he discarded his third wife like getting rid of old furniture he no longer needed. His absolute coldness and nonchalance on the whole thing really scared her.

God, could she actually handle him?

“You make it sound so bad but that’s standard Hollywood marriages. This doesn’t happen only in Hollywood but anywhere where there are millions of dollars involved. It’s a practical solution to avoid conflict when it turns sour. It ALWAYS turns sour, so better be safe than sorry. It’s a cliché that only fools ignore. Want a smooth ride? Seal all the potholes.”

She knew that, of course. Her own brother’s engagement was testament to that very pragmatic way people viewed and treated marriage. She was a hopeless romantic so she will never condone it. She still believed that love, true love will conquer all. Another cliché but it was what she lived by, the very reason why she was in this same car listening to this man who gave cynicism a whole new meaning. “As smooth as you’re having it now?”

He shrugged. “Human nature, the bane of every business transaction.”

“What do you mean?”

“We humans are never content. We always want more, even if we have enough. That’s our road to destruction. Gabby wanted more than what she has signed in for.”

“And what was that?”

“More years with me. More privileges and opportunities. I will not be modest about my status and capabilities. Anybody who’s with me will go places in Hollywood doing practically nothing.”

That was god complex at its best, she thought, but Dare Montgomery was indeed the biggest name in Hollywood in the last decade and nobody can dispute that. But his total lack of faith in relationships was hurting her even more. “I rather thought she wanted your love,” she said softly, feeling real sympathy for Gabby, Naiomi and Alana now. Dare was cold. Very cold.

He laughed hoarsely in derision. “That sounds like a daytime soap with the worst script.”

“No. I think you just refused to see it.”

He stared at her. “Trying to psychoanalyze me again, little girl? Don’t bother. I’m a hopeless case.”

She didn’t say anything more.

What she badly wanted to do was kiss the coldness from his eyes. But in the face of his ruthless pragmatism, she felt weak and scared, her usual bravura dwindling.

The limousine pulled over on the side of the road. She looked at him questioningly.

“I’ll drive the Venom. Carlos will ride with you. I’ll see you at Chateau Marmont,” he said and disembarked from the limo to exchange vehicles with Carlos who had been tailing them in the Venom.