Oscar sighed, “Melinda, you’ve become a laughing stock. You know as well as I do that it’s hard to come back from something like this no matter how much money you have. You have got to start using your brain or the only work you’re ever going to get is an occasional horror film.”
Melinda got an idea and announced, “I know how we can stop the bad press.”
“How’s that Melinda? Blow them up?
Leaning into him, she purred, “No. We simply replace the bad with something good, something very good.”
Rolling his eyes, Oscar asked, “You’re not talking about adopting a Chinese baby or something are you?”
Smiling coyly she declared, “I was thinking that we could announce our engagement. If we did that, the tabloids would spend all their time trying to find out when and where the wedding is taking place and all this other nonsense would simply go bye-bye.”
Oscar realized that she was right. There was nothing like a wedding to circumvent a scandal. Hollywoodies got married all the time to squelch gossip and rumors that were about to hit the light of day. Look at Geoff Speed, married three times, each to circumvent news of another gay affair from leaking to his fans. Announcing their engagement was the only thing that could turn Melinda’s bad press into good. Yet he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it so he said, “Not yet, Melinda.”
Alarmed, she asked, “What do you mean, not yet? This is the answer to all of our problems.”
Oscar simply answered, “We’ll announce our engagement if and when I say so.”
For the first time since Oscar came to Illinois, Melinda was seriously worried that he might dump her. It was one thing if she left him. Then she would be the power player. But if he left her, she would have a very hard time finding work again. Hollywood never rallied behind a loser and they could smell desperation easier than the stink of fresh skunk.
W
hen Lila arrived at The Northwest train station in downtown Chicago, she immediately found a bathroom and changed into Jasmine. She was starting to feel a little like Clark Kent. Although Clark’s transformation into Superman didn’t include a wig, eyelashes, four-inch heels and a barrel full of makeup. All he had to do was take off his glasses and put on some tights. Being Superman wasn’t half as difficult as being Jasmine Sheath.
The crowd at Novella on Oak Street was much like the one at The Book Nook the day before. Lila felt proud that all these women had shown up to meet her and tell her how much they loved her book. In fact, she started to wonder why she was so adamant in keeping her identity a secret. The people she worried would judge her harshly turned out to be her biggest fans. While they would still be shocked out of their gourds that she was capable of writing the way she did, they would eventually understand. She was sure of it. And the person’s reaction that she had come to fear most no longer mattered to her. She had worried that Creigh would be horrified to discover that she was the author of what he referred to as trash, but now that she knew his true colors, it didn’t matter if he did find out. He was trashier than she would ever be. After all, she just wrote it, while he lived it.
The staff at Novella bent over backwards to make Lila feel welcome. They even had lunch catered and toasted her success with a bottle of champagne. By three o’clock she had signed over two-hundred autographs and had two hours to go. She decided that she was looking forward to going on a book tour. Anything would be better than facing the fact that she was unemployed and in love with a rat. No, take that back, she
was
in love with a rat, not any more though.
Lila grabbed a new pen and looked up at the next person in line. Speak of the devil, Creigh smiled at her and declared, “Well fancy meeting you here.”
Lila growled, “If you don’t leave right this minute, I’m going to have security throw you out.”
Creigh asked, “Why ever would you do that? I’m only here to have some books signed by my favorite author.” He proceeded to shove all three remaining stacks of paperbacks toward her, “I’ll take these.”
Lila responded, “You can’t possibly want all of them. You just bought one yesterday.”
With a gleam in his eye, he answered, “And I read it too. Kept me up all night,” with a wink, he added, “If you know what I mean.”
Lila wanted to scream that the man she thought she loved had turned out to be such a despicable fiend. How dare he betray her trust like that and make such a ridiculous play for another woman. (Of course she was the other woman but he didn’t know that.)
The manager of the store came over when she noticed the prolonged conversation between Lila and Creigh and asked, “Is there a problem here?”
Lila was about to answer in the affirmative when Creigh responded, “I just wanted Miss Sheath to sign my books for me.”
The manager looked at the pile in front of Creigh and gasped, “You want all of them?” When he nodded, she nearly squealed, “That would mean a sell out!” Then to Lila she said, “What a coup, Miss Sheath! We haven’t had a sell out since John Grisham signed here.”
Lila didn’t want to disappoint the woman, so she grabbed a pen and started signing the books. She didn’t bother asking Creigh what he wanted her to write, she just created as many filthy insults as she could. By the time she reached her last book, Creigh asked, “Would you mind autographing that one with your real name?”
Shocked, Lila looked up to meet his gaze, “What do you mean my real name?”
He reached across the table and ran his thumb across the seam of her parted lips and answered, “I was thinking that you might like to write something in it like ‘To Creighton Ashwood, my one true love. And then sign it Lila Montgomery.”
Lila gasped and before she could think to deny it she demanded, “How did you know? My own mother didn’t even recognize me.”
Creigh laughed, “After the night we shared, how could I not know?” Then he walked around the table and pulled Lila to her feet. With his arms around her, he said, “I know the way you smile and the way you smell and the way you feel. You could never hide from me, Lila Montgomery, no matter how many disguises you put on.” Then he leaned down and captured her lips in a smoldering kiss.
Lila sighed and only came to her senses when she heard a thundering sound in the background. She looked around to see that everyone in the store had begun to clap their hands, enthralled by the scene they had just witnessed. One woman even pointed at Creigh and declared, “Look, he looks just like Julius Hunkster! I wonder if he was her inspiration.”
Creigh raised his eyebrow in question and Lila replied, “Don’t get too cocky about it.”
Lila and Creigh left the book shop hand-in-hand and got into a taxi. Lila thought they were going to the train station so she was happily surprised when Creigh told the driver to take them to The Palmer House on East Monroe St. Lila asked why they were going there and he answered, “I want to see if what happens in page 83 is really possible.”
Heat rushed through her body at the thought and she replied, “I’ve kind of wondered too.”
“You mean you’ve never tried it?” She shook her head and he asked the driver, “Can you get us there any faster?”
Creigh had already checked in and had a key card to a room. Lila smiled, “Pretty sure of yourself, huh?”
He winked, “I wasn’t sure of myself. I was sure of you.”
Lila was delighted by the sumptuousness of the hotel room. Creigh had already been there and set up the room for romance. There was a bottle of Dom Perignon on ice and candles as far as the eye could see. Then she notice that the bed was covered in rose petals. Creigh jumped on the bed and grabbed one of the books out of his shopping bag and thumbed through it. He stopped and smiled, “I realize that we aren’t in a carriage, but I would really like to give this one a try. What do you think?”
Lila was out of her clothes in record time and when she started to remove her wig, Creigh stopped her, “Why don’t you keep it on, I’m curious to see what it’s like to make love to a wild redhead.”
Lila eyes gleamed with possibility. She responded by saying, “Come here and sit on the loveseat then. It looks to be about the same dimensions of a carriage seat, don’t you think?”
Creigh willingly did as she suggested. He was beyond aroused at the thought of what was about to happen. So when she approached him wearing only her wig and high heels, he happily allowed her to bind his wrists with her stockings. He begged her not to blindfold him though. He wanted to see everything that was about to take place. But Lila argued that it wouldn’t be true to the story if he could see so she wrapped a silk stocking around his eyes twice just to make sure.
Two blissful hours later, Lila and Creigh ordered room service to regain some of their strength. Lila called her parents and explained that she was staying in the city overnight. They still had pages 189, 234 and 312 to try.
C
ynthia and Jessica sat out by the pool under the protection of a huge umbrella. They were less worried about sun damage than hurricane Melinda. Unfortunately, an umbrella wasn’t always the best security against a force of nature, but it was all they had.
Cynthia vented, “Melinda is driving me stark raving crazy! She’s been trailing me all morning to see if I’ve gotten her a movie deal yet.” Cyn looked at an imaginary watch and said, “She’s supposedly been with me for twelve hours and already expects to be starring in the next ‘Bourne’ blockbuster.”
Jessica rolled her eyes in sympathy, “Why don’t you go into town and get away from here for awhile? God knows you deserve the break.”
Cyn replied, “I don’t know my way around Bentley so I’m not exactly sure where I’d go.”
Jessica suggested, “Why don’t you just drive over to the club and spend a lazy afternoon by the pool? I’ll call ahead and let them know that I have a guest coming.”
Cynthia didn’t think twice about it. She was so desperate to get away from Melinda she would have happily agreed to visit a leper colony. “You make the call and I’ll grab my book.” Then she added, “Why don’t you come along? You could stand a vacation from the bimbo, too.”
Jessica handed over her cars keys and answered, “No way. I’ve made my mind up about Oscar and I’m not going to let Melinda get in the way. I have to stay and guard my man against any sneak attacks.”
Cynthia drove down the road to The North Hills Country Club and wondered what in the heck she was doing. She was not a country club girl. She grew up in a trailer park in Kansas for heaven’s sake. An alcoholic Mother and series of part time “uncles” simply did not give her the kind of lineage required to hang out with the silver spoon crowd.
Cynthia took a deep breath as she parked the car and tried to remind herself that she was as good as anyone else there. She was still telling herself that when she walked through the doors and took in all the grandeur surrounding her. Cyn asked a lady on a brocade settee which way she should go to get to the pool. Muffy Witherington Smythe-Smith Churchill (or so she guessed she was named) very nicely pointed her in the right direction.
Once she had signed in with the girl in the locker room and got her towel, Cyn was feeling a little more relaxed. She settled into a chaise by the shallow end and picked up the book she bought at the airport. Cyn smiled to herself as she was pretty sure the characters in
She Sins at Midnight
would have felt right at home if they were in her shoes. In fact Julius and Vivian would have probably considered the club a quaint country cottage.
Cyn flipped to page 233 and immediately continued where she left off.
Brinker Harrington, Earl Cinder, was delighted to be invited to Julius’s house party. More than anything he needed to get away from London and escape the bevy of virginal beauties who threw themselves at him on a nightly basis. Being a bachelor during the season was more dangerous than being a fox at the hunt. Society mamas were far more lethal than any arsenal of weapons that he had encountered on the hunt.
Arabella Meeks couldn’t believe that she had been asked to come along to the house party with her aunt. She knew that she was only invited as Aunt May’s companion and not as an actual guest, but either way, it was very exciting to be there.
Having grown up on the poor side of the family, Bella had never so much as seen the inside of a country estate before her parent’s death. Now here she was, guest at the most sumptuous house party of the season. Bella had no intention of actually taking part in any of the social activities, as she knew her place as a companion. But it didn’t stop her from enjoying the air of excitement that permeated the atmosphere.
Cyn rolled her eyes. What rubbish! Why did romance authors always write about obscene wealth and excess? Not everyone was impressed by such superficial nonsense. Cyn had read so many of these books, thanks to her disappointing social life, that she knew exactly what was coming next. Brinker Harrington would fall head over heels in love with Arabella and she would resist him because she didn’t feel worthy. But Brinker wouldn’t take no for an answer and would continue to pursue her until she fell into his arms and declared her undying love. Mumbling to herself, Cyn sighed, “What a load of shit.”
“Where’s a load of shit?”
Cyn turned to the chair next to her looking for the owner of the voices and found herself staring at an insanely gorgeous blonde man that looked to be about her age. “Excuse me?”
He smiled at her and continued to rub suntan oil on his chest, “I said, it’s such a beautiful day and then I inquired as to where the load of shit was. I wouldn’t want to accidentally step in it.”
Cyn didn’t answer right away. She was positively mesmerized by this man’s polished 1940’s movie star looks. Shaking herself out of her daze, she realized that he was probably Muffy’s son, Barrington Philharmonic Smythe-Smith Churchill Farnsworth the III. Instead of answering him, she let out an errant giggle.
Intrigued by her response, he continued, “My name is Barry by the way.”
Cyn laughed out loud and thought, “Holy shit, his name really is Barrington!”
Before she could say anything he asked, “Would you like me to move to another lounger?”