Bridge to Haven (47 page)

His hand loosened and hung limp at his side. “I know you’re punishing me. I know I said there’d be no pain, Lena. I saw how you suffered.” His eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t know it would be like that.” He looked wild with pain. “I swear I didn’t know!”

Abra covered her face with her hands. “Just leave me alone, Franklin. Please. Just leave me alone.” She gulped down sobs, swallowing the agony until it felt like a hard ball of poison in the pit of her stomach. She heard him leave the room. She thought he’d give her peace, but he came back.

“I have something for you.” Franklin shook out two pills from a prescription bottle. He went to the bar to fill a glass of water. He came back and presented the water and pills like an offering. “The doctor said these will make you feel better. It’s just a mild barbiturate.”

She looked up at Franklin. How far would he go to get Lena back? She didn’t trust him or his doctor. “I don’t care what it is. I’m not taking it.”

His eyes narrowed. “This has got to stop, Lena.” It was his agent’s voice, the manager trying to grab and control again. “I’m trying to help you.”

She knew better. She looked pointedly across the room. “And your concern has nothing to do with the script on the coffee table.” Her tone reeked of sarcasm. She went over and picked up
The Gypsy and the General
and flung it at him. “That’s what I think of it.” Did he really expect her to be interested? She wanted to rip the pages in pieces and throw them in his face. “I’ve done enough acting for a lifetime, Franklin. I’m done.” She held her hand out. “If you want me to take pills, give me the whole bottle.”

He sank onto a barstool, staring at her. “You’re not the woman I thought you were.”

“Surprise, surprise.” Maybe he was finally beginning to understand.

“We can’t go on like this. You have to put it behind you.”

She saw the raw look in his eyes, the confusion. He’d always been the sculptor, the worker in clay, the puppet master, pulling the strings. Now the marble statue had cracked, the clay dried and crumbled. The marionette had come to life and loathed him because
he wasn’t sorry about what they’d done. He was grieving the loss of his great love, Lena Scott.

“How do I put it behind me, Franklin?” Every decision she’d made in the last five years had brought disaster, each worse than the last. Everything she thought she wanted tasted like ashes in her mouth.

“Don’t you understand how much you’re loved? Did you even read any of the letters I brought you?”

He’d shoved dozens under her door.

“Why should I read letters from strangers who don’t even know Lena Scott? Or that Lena Scott is Abra Matthews! They only love that fake image on a screen. Just like you! Everyone’s in love with a figment of your imagination!”

He stood, face livid. “Stop saying that!” He held his head as though in more pain than she.

“It’s true.” She’d made five movies and played five parts: a one-minute walk away that made men long to see the whole body beneath the white blouse and tight pencil skirt, a passionate wife to a zombie lover, an ingenue in love with her best friend’s fiancé, a dancing role that had left her unable to walk for weeks, and a mermaid who ultimately pulled the man she loved over the side and down into the depths.

Franklin had done that to her. Pulled her over and down, down, down into the deep, dark world of make-believe.

A flood tide of sorrow washed over her and she felt herself drowning in it. “I’m sorry, Franklin. I’m sorry. I can’t pretend anymore.” How much of her life had she spent doing just that? She no longer knew who she was.

Franklin took her by the shoulders, his eyes adoring. “You’ve never pretended with me. I know you better than you know yourself.” His fingers dug into her. “I’ve poured my heart and soul into you!”

Her body went cold at his touch.

His hands cupped her face, his eyes worshiping. “A thousand men
want you, but you gave yourself to me. You love me. I’ve kept every promise I’ve ever made to you. Haven’t I?”

That was the awful truth. He had.

She had just never stopped to count the cost.

Harold Cushing’s open house had been going for an hour when Dave nudged Joshua. “I’d better warn you, Kathy is playing matchmaker again.”

It wasn’t the first time Kathy had tried to fix him up with a friend. Joshua had hoped she’d understood when he told her he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend.

Dave nodded toward Kathy, coming outside with a slender, diminutive, and very attractive brunette. “That’s Merit Hayes, one of Kathy’s college friends. She’s a studio lawyer. Don’t let her size fool you. She might look like a minnow, but she’s a shark.” People mingled, talking and laughing as the catering staff served hors d’oeuvres and replenished drinks. Merit looked like she had come straight from an office in her white silk blouse, black pencil skirt, and shiny black patent-leather pumps. She looked annoyed while Kathy talked and nodded toward Dave and Joshua.

Thankfully, Harold Cushing called Joshua over. Harold introduced him to a middle-aged couple. “Chet works for Walt Disney. He’s impressed with what you’ve done to my office.”

“Walt is always looking for men with imagination.” Chet went on to boast of how Disneyland was bringing in money faster than a harvester bringing in the sheaves. The mind behind the amusement park wasn’t idle, but caught up in ideas of how to expand. Chet laughed. “The irony is Walt got fired once because his boss said he had no imagination. Families are flocking to Disneyland, and it doesn’t look like the crowds are going to die down anytime soon.”

Someone tapped Joshua on the shoulder, and he turned to find
Kathy standing behind him, Merit Hayes in tow. “Sorry to interrupt, Dad, but I wanted Joshua to meet an old friend of mine. Merit Hayes, this is David’s best friend, Joshua Freeman.”

Joshua gave the appropriate smile and polite response as he held out his hand. Merit had a small, delicate hand with long, red fingernails, and a grip like a prizefighter. Her eyes turned cool with wry humor. “I should warn you, she’s trying to set us up.”

Joshua chuckled. “I know.”

Merit raised her brows. “Are you a coconspirator?”

“Sorry, but no, not that it isn’t a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hayes.”

Kathy blushed. “Okay.” She raised her hands in defeat. “Okay. I’ve done my best. Have fun.”

Merit winced. “Awkward, I must say.”

“Kathy has the best of intentions.”

She eyed his can of Coke and took a martini from a passing tray, startling the server, who looked ready to protest. “She’s naive.” She plucked the olive from the drink and ate it. “If I wanted a man, I’d find him myself.”

“Dave said you’re a studio lawyer.”

“Guilty as charged. He’s had to deal with me before.” She laughed. “He never gets what he wants.” A waiter offered dainty sandwiches. She took two. “I take that back. He did get Kathy.” She shrugged and gave him a catlike stare as she ate. He knew she was waiting for him to comment. When he didn’t, she nodded toward the house. “I saw Harold’s new office. Impressive work.”

“I didn’t do it by myself.”

“You came up with the concept and did half the work—the finish half, I was told. It was all part of Kathy’s glowing recommendation. So I have to wonder. Why does a man with your obvious talents now do part-time work on a back studio lot?”

He smiled and sipped his Coke. “Maybe I came down here to be discovered.”

“Meaning it’s none of my business.” She plucked a canapé from another tray. “You managed to get your foot in the door without joining the union. Nice that you have such good connections.” She lifted her glass to Dave and Kathy watching them. “Look at them over there, Kathy with such hope, Dave wishing I’d take off on my broom.” She laughed, enjoying herself.

She looked at Joshua. “Kathy told me you’re a churchgoing man.” She sniffed. “And you’ve got them going, too. She calls you the real deal; did you know that?” She made a wry face. “Odd that I think I like you.” She popped the canapé into her mouth and wagged her finger as she chewed and swallowed. “Not that I want to give you the wrong idea. I’m not saying I want to go out with you.”

He grinned. “Have I asked?”

She looked surprised. “I should be insulted.”

“But you’re not.”

She leaned closer and whispered. “Maybe we can pretend we’re attracted to each other. It might serve to distract my dear friend from further matchmaking attempts on my behalf. She has no idea how hopeless that is.” She took his arm and batted her lashes. “I’ll be nice. I promise. Let’s mingle.”

Merit Hayes knew everyone and, like Dave, loved to talk business. People kept coming, and she zeroed in on specific people. Joshua listened, answering questions only when asked. She patted his arm. “I like a man who doesn’t talk more than necessary.” She steered him toward a couple who had arrived late—an older, portly man with shrewd eyes and a beautiful, much-younger woman who looked vaguely familiar. Merit greeted them both warmly, the two women exchanging air kisses on each cheek before Merit introduced Joshua to Terrence Irving and his wife, Pamela.

Joshua told them it was a pleasure. Pamela kept looking at him, and when he frowned, she sighed. “My star fades already.”

Her husband slipped an arm around her waist and drew her a little closer. “You shine with more beauty and light than ever.”

Merit made a soft choking sound, and Joshua noticed the laughter in her eyes. He wondered why until she apologized to Pamela and her husband. “You’ll have to excuse my friend here. He comes from a small town in northern California that probably doesn’t even have a theater. Joshua, this is Pamela Hudson.”

Joshua remembered now, though he’d only seen one movie in which she starred. He could probably dredge up the story line, given the opportunity.

“Pamela gave up acting to marry me.” Terrence Irving smiled at his lovely wife. “And then she gave me the added blessing of two beautiful daughters.”

Merit took the cue and asked about their darling little ones, and if the couple planned to have more. Pamela looked piqued, but Terrence said they both wanted more. Others joined them. Merit slipped her hand through Joshua’s arm and drew him away. “Well, that was a complete disaster! Did you see the look on her face?” She looked at him, laughing. “How could anyone not know Pamela Hudson?”

“We don’t inhabit the same circles.”

“Where are you from? The moon?” She shook her head. “I’m being a witch. I know. The booze is going to my head. I’ve had a long, hard week.”

“Then I suggest we eat.” He steered her toward the elaborate buffet.

She took a plate, handed it to him, and moved ahead with one of her own. “Pamela has been in all the Hollywood newspaper columns.”

“I get my news from other sources.”

“Well then, I’ll tell you the story. Pamela came out of nowhere and burst on the scene like a nova.” She picked through the salads and vegetable dishes. “She had a high-powered, brilliant agent who literally built her career. Franklin Moss. Have you ever heard of him?
He’s a bit too intense at times, but he knows talent when he sees it, even if it appears in a diner on Sunset Boulevard. Or so the story goes. The Hollywood dream.” Her tone dripped cynicism. “I was the lawyer on one of Pamela’s movies, and I can tell you, that man knew how to fight for his client. Franklin Moss is shrewd, ambitious, and a tough negotiator. Unfortunately, he lost his head and had an affair with Pamela—always a bad idea between business partners. She’s one ambitious honey. She left Moss’s little love nest and jumped into the sack with Terrence. Lucky for her, Terrence has lawyers who can find a loophole in any contract. Every newspaper across the country ran the scandal. Everyone expected to see her star shining in the next Irving movie. I think Pamela banked on that. Instead, her career came to a screeching halt.” She gave a dark laugh. “From the way Terrence talked, he’s going to keep Pamela pregnant and tending babies at home.”

“Maybe it’s what she wants.”

Merit looked skeptical. “Even if she did, she’s got a hard road ahead. Terrence Irving has always loved beautiful women. The leopard might want an heir, but I doubt he’ll change his spots. There you have it. A Hollywood marriage made in heaven.”

“Things aren’t always what they seem.”

“Spoken by a naive romantic. Sorry to disillusion you, but Pamela Hudsons are a dime a dozen in Tinseltown, buddy boy. Franklin Moss lost his head and his job at the agency when he lost her. His wife left him, got full custody of their children, and moved to the big house in Malibu. He disappeared for over a year. I guess he went off to lick his wounds or whatever men do when they come to their senses.” She told the chef she wanted a nice thick piece of rare prime rib. “He’s back now. Franklin, I mean. And giving me another massive headache.” She held out her plate for the slab of juicy meat. “He’s created another Venus and wants an Olympian price for her.” She took a roll and three pats of butter. “I hate negotiating with the
man. Unlike Pamela over there, this girl actually has talent and she follows directions. It’s unusual to find a triple threat that doesn’t have an ego the size of Texas.”