Infamous (4 page)

Along with the panic came anger. What was Morgan thinking, leaving Kinsey alone for so long with no one to call in an emergency? Why wasn’t he picking up his phone? Surely he didn’t screen calls from his daughter?

The shrill chirp of her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. She snatched it out of the passenger seat.

“Kinsey, are you all right? Is the pain worse?”

“Jessica, I’m okay. I’m just … .”

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“I started my period.” The reply was mumbled.

She eased her foot up on the accelerator. The rush of relief sent little black dots dancing in front of her eyes.

“Jessica?”

Kinsey was still on the line. She reminded herself to breathe.

“Still here,
chica
. That’s great news. I guess you don’t usually get cramps, huh?”

“I don’t know.” Kinsey sounded miserable. “Jessica, can you still come? It’s my first time and I don’t have any, you know … girl stuff.”

A wave of sympathy washed over Jessica as she remembered going through almost the same thing. By that time, her mother had been long gone. She had convinced J.T. she was too old for a nanny. Like Kinsey, she was home alone a lot with the household staff. It had been horribly embarrassing asking the housekeeper to go to the store for her. Her fledgling Spanish had not been up to the task.

“Absolutely,” she assured Kinsey. “No worries, I’ll just make a little stop at the store and be there in no time.”

A few miles down the road she pulled into a shopping center with a large pharmacy. She quickly found the essential supplies. After reading the labels on several bottles, she added a bottle of “teen” Midol to her basket, too. In her experience, a bottle of wine or a stiff margarita would take care of the worst cramps, but she could imagine what Morgan would do if he came home to find his daughter trashed. After browsing a few more aisles and paying for her purchases, she was back on the road.

Half an hour later, Kinsey buzzed her through the gate and she drove up the winding driveway to the house she hadn’t seen in four years. She squashed the impulse to slow as the house came into view.

The warm stucco walls of the sprawling hacienda diffused the bright California sun into a soft glow. Patio furniture was scattered casually about the long covered porch that ran the length of the house. Compared to the formal Beverly Hills mansion she had grown up in, the effect had always seemed homey and welcoming. She remembered Morgan sitting in the shade of the porch most mornings while he drank his coffee and answered e-mail on his laptop.

She was here for Kinsey, she reminded herself. This had never really been her home.

A furry head shoved itself into the car as she opened the door. She laughed and scratched Sandy’s ears. The plump puppy had grown into a sleek Golden Retriever.

The front door opened before she reached it. She gaped at the gangly teenager who had replaced the child she remembered. Kinsey smiled, looking a little apprehensive. Jessica dropped her shopping bags and opened her arms.

“Look how gorgeous you are.” She squeezed her close. “When did you grow up?”

Kinsey laughed, and the tension was broken.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen pictures.”

“I know, but somehow I still managed to think of you as being a foot shorter.”

“Is that it?” Kinsey pointed at her bags.

She handed her one of the bags. “Do you need any help?”

Kinsey shook her head and turned a little pink. Jessica gave her a reassuring push toward the back of the house. “Go on and take care of necessities. We’ll catch up when you get back.”

She picked up the other bag and headed for the kitchen. By the time Kinsey got back, she had dished up two large bowls of ice cream.

“I hope chocolate chunk is still your favorite.”

“Extra chocolate syrup?” Kinsey looked hopeful.

“You got it, girl!” She produced the syrup from the bag with a flourish.

The phone rang just as Kinsey finished squeezing a glob of syrup over her ice cream. She licked a drip of syrup off the side of the bowl as she reached for the phone and checked the caller I.D.

“Hi, Dad, what’s up?”

Jessica went on full alert. She reached for the chocolate syrup, and tried to look unconcerned with the conversation.

“I’m really sorry about that, I was feeling really bad but … . My stomach, but … . No, I’m okay now, Jessica is here and … . Well, if you would listen, I called her when … .” Kinsey rolled her eyes at her then held the phone out. “He wants to talk to you.”

Jessica took a quick breath and put the phone to her ear before she chickened out in front of Kinsey.

“Hello, Mo — ”

“What the hell is going on? What’s wrong with Kinsey?”

“She’s okay,” she soothed, “she just panicked over some stomach cramps but she’s absolutely fine.”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re doing there, but if Kinsey’s sick I want you to take her to the doctor right now.”

She was very aware of Kinsey standing just on the other side of the kitchen island. She took a deep breath and tried to remain calm.

“Morgan, I know you’re worried, but in this case — ”

“Damn it, Jessica,” he interrupted. “Cramps can be serious. What if it’s her appendix or food poisoning? It’s not your place to decide she’s okay.”

She clenched the phone very tightly. She did not raise her voice. She spoke slowly.

“Morgan, Kinsey started her period. She’s okay. She just needed another woman and a few supplies.”

There was an interminable silence over the line. She began to wonder if the cellular service had dropped the call.

“Are you sure the cramps are normal?” Morgan’s voice was gruff.

“Perfectly normal, I have them every month.”

“Isn’t she a little young?” Jessica snuck a quick look at Kinsey, who was focused on the ice cream like it held the secret to world peace.

“Perfectly. Normal.” She repeated. “In fact, she’s started a little later than some girls.”

She heard him blow out a breath. When he spoke again, his voice had lost much of its urgency.

“Okay, I’m wrapping things up here and heading home. I’m just outside of San Jose, so it will be a while. Will you stay with Kinsey until I get there?”

“I don’t know, Morgan. Kinsey’s fine and I planned on driving back to the city.”

“I really think Kinsey needs someone to stay with her. You were right; she needs a woman for this.”

She wavered. She
did
want to stay with Kinsey. It was Morgan she wanted to avoid.

“For God’s sake, Jessica, it’s just a few hours.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t worry; I’ll be here until you get back.”

She spent the next few hours talking, eating, and watching T.V. with Kinsey. It was fabulous to see Kinsey in person again, but as the night wore on it was harder and harder to relax.

The final scrape along her screaming nerves came from Kinsey.

“Did you see Dad last month?”

“Mmmm, why?” This was so not something she wanted to discuss with Kinsey.

“I saw the invite to the
Masque
party, and, you know, he had his tux cleaned right after, so I thought he probably went.”

“Yeah, he was there.” No sense denying it.

“So, umm, did you guys talk?”

And there it was. No way did Morgan leave Kinsey home all evening with no backup adult within yelling distance. Someone out here was on the phone list.

“Not so much.” Not a lie. They had barely talked at all.

Jessica felt a little stab of guilt. How many times had she seen pictures of her parents together at some Hollywood event after they split? It had taken a long time before she stopped getting her hopes up that it was all going to work out.

“It was just a party,” she said gently. “Your dad probably just wanted a night out and I happened to be there.”

The questions were still in Kinsey’s eyes, but mercifully she dropped the subject.

“I’m really beat, Jessica. I’m going to bed. Tell Dad I’ll see him in the morning.”

And that was that. She was alone in the den. Kinsey, it seemed, was fine. Maybe a little too fine. Now that the panic was over, the likelihood that she had needed her, Jessica, specifically seemed slim.

Kinsey had never completely accepted their break-up. Knowing they had seen each other again, she had obviously jumped to the wrong conclusions.

Jessica sighed. Maybe she was making something of nothing. There was no sense worrying about it now. As soon as Morgan got home, she would leave. If this was Kinsey’s version of
The Parent Trap
, she would figure out quickly enough that real life seldom mirrored Hollywood.

Restless, Jessica wandered around the den. On the counter that housed the entertainment system, Jessica found her photo of Kinsey and Sandy at the beach. It was in the kitschy seashell frame she had bought from a beach vendor. There were dozens of other framed photos scattered over the counter: A proud Morgan holding a baby Kinsey; Kinsey and Morgan posing with snowboards on a mountain slope; a tiny Kinsey on Santa’s lap; Kinsey and her friends eating hotdogs by the pool.

She examined each of the pictures carefully, storing away the little glimpses into a life she had almost shared. There were no pictures of her. She hadn’t expected there to be, but somehow it still hurt. The little seashell frame was the only evidence she had ever been here at all.

Looking at the photos, she realized exactly why Morgan had wanted her out of his life and Kinsey’s. Despite his wealth and the demands of his career, Morgan had managed to give Kinsey a very normal family life. The clutter of frames all contained snapshots, school pictures, and souvenir-stand photos. There were no news clippings. There were no celebrities. There was no place for someone like her.

She wandered back into the kitchen and poured herself a very large glass of wine from Morgan’s well-stocked fridge. After some consideration, she took the bottle with her back to the den. Then she settled in to wait. With a little help from Napa Valley, she might not even feel her heart breaking when she left again.

Morgan rolled his shoulders as the gates swung open and he pulled into the driveway. He had left the house before dawn and now it was after midnight. The meeting with the new client had gone well but traffic had been hell both directions. He was tired and edgy from the long drive. And he still had to deal with Jessica.

It should have made his mood even worse. Instead, he was energized. Little zings of anticipation danced along his nerve-ends at the thought of her waiting in his home. He felt more awake as he pulled into the driveway than he had when he left San Jose.

Libido, he thought. He was like Pavlov’s dog. He had rarely spent a day with her that hadn’t ended in some of the hottest sex of his life. His mood was obviously easy to modify with such powerful conditioning.

Sandy woofed and danced around him as he let himself into the kitchen through the garage. He set his laptop just inside the door to give her an absent-minded pat. He could hear the T.V. in the den, and he headed straight there.

The room was dark except for the glow of the television and a single lamp by the sofa. Where was she? Kinsey’s room, maybe? He stepped around the sofa to turn off the television and almost tripped over an empty wine bottle.

He frowned down at it. An empty wineglass rested next to the bottle. From his position at the side of the sofa, he could just see a delicate hand trailing down from the cushions. Ignoring the television, he rounded the front of the sofa.

Jessica was almost lost in the deep cushions. She was snuggled under a chenille throw which wasn’t quite long enough to reach her feet. She had tucked her knees up, but her pink-tipped toes still peeped out the bottom. Her glorious hair tumbled over her face.

Passed out. She was passed out on the couch.

He wanted to be angry. Surely she didn’t expect to drive home after that much alcohol? Aside from the danger, it was a bad example to Kinsey!

Then again, had he really expected anything else? How could he have forgotten even for a minute how self-absorbed she was? It wouldn’t occur to her to behave any differently. The person who came first in Jessica’s life was Jessica; everyone else only existed to cater to her needs. Hadn’t he learned that lesson well enough four years ago?

On the sofa, Jessica shifted restlessly and pulled the throw closer around herself. In sleep, she didn’t look like the infamous celebrity author. Jessica Sinclair was larger than life and always willing to take on anyone. Asleep, she was tiny and vulnerable-looking. She barely made a bulge on the sofa. A soft snore escaped her as she snuggled deeper into the cushions.

Instead of anger, a wave of tenderness swept over him along with the usual jolt of lust he got every time he laid eyes on her. Dandy.

She roused a little when he lifted her off the sofa, trying not to notice how good she smelled.

“Morgan?”

“Shhh, we’ll talk in the morning.”

“I have to get home.”

“In the morning.”

He tucked her into a guest bed where she curled onto her side and instantly fell asleep.

The sight of her in bed brought back memories of the last time he had seen her. What a disaster. And what had possessed him anyway? At the time, all his reasons had seemed logical. It was time they moved on.

More to the point, it was time he moved on, maybe start getting serious about one of the other women he had half-heartedly dated in the past few years. After four years, it should have been the easiest thing to have his lawyers initiate divorce proceedings. Why had he convinced himself that he needed to see her again?

It should have been so easy. Seeing her partying with her Hollywood friends should have reinforced all the reasons they shouldn’t be together. Instead, reason had gone straight out the window.

He stared down at her, still wishing, just a little, for the anger. That was the problem with Jessica. He never felt exactly the way he
ought
to feel around her. The way he
expected
to feel. Instead, there was always an untidy mess of emotions that hovered around her like a storm cloud. He never knew whether to expect a thunderstorm or a spring shower. Either was likely to erupt without warning or dissipate just as inexplicably into blue skies and sunshine.