Turn Back the Dawn (14 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Over the next few days Kate spoke with Ben often but didn't have time to see him. She was busy with advertising and public-relations work concerning the party at Xenon, and Ben was working nearly around the clock on a new car account.

But they talked daily, and their conversations were a delightful mix of business and pleasure, quick rundowns of the latest in the ad campaign along with quiet words of affection.

One afternoon, just as Kate was getting ready to leave Ivorsen and Shaw, Ben called and asked if she could stop by his apartment on her way to her dance class. Pleased, she agreed immediately; it had been a long time.

The moment he answered the door and she saw his face, she knew something was wrong. He looked haggard, worn, depressed. "Come on in," he said. From the look in his eyes she had thought he wasn't going to kiss her, had planned not to even touch her. But he caught her in his arms and kissed her long and hard, then looked into her eyes for a searching moment and drew her against his chest. "Oh, Kate," he said quietly, holding her tight against him.

"What is it?" she asked.

He looked down into her eyes and gently stroked her hair. "Come. We'll talk in here."

There was a fire going in the living room, and it looked warm and cozy, but Kate could think only that something was very, very wrong as she walked in with Ben and sat down next to him on the couch.

"Drink?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, thanks. Tell me what's going

pn."

He stood and went over to the bar. "I think I'll have something after all," he said. He poured himself a glass of wine in silence and then came back to the couch. "I had a call at the office today," he said quietly, looking down into his glass and then into Kate's eyes. "From Celia." He took a sip of wine. "About Eliza, our daughter."

"What happened?" Kate asked.

He sighed. "Well. She's in high school, you know. Just a kid." He shook his head. "Sixteen years old. And it turns out she hasn't been going to school. Hasn't in weeks. Celia called me today about it, but it's been going on for weeks. Weeks!"

"Where has she been?" Kate asked.

"With friends. Kids she's gotten to be friends with this semester. And kids—obviously—who aren't going to be the best influence in the world on her." He took another sip of wine. "What infuriates me most about it is that Celia didn't even call me. I've been on the phone with both of them all evening, trying to come to some sort of... plan."

"When did Celia know about it?" Kate asked. "Maybe she just found out."

Ben shook his head. "Nope. She found out days ago.

She called me today because she went in to talk to the school principal, and he recommended that Eliza see someone professionally.
Then
she decided to call me." He stood up and walked over to the fireplace. "I just can't believe that my daughter is going through all that hell out there and I don't even know about it. I just don't understand what is in Celia's mind some of the time." He crouched down and threw another log on the flames, send ing up a spray of sparks, and remained facing the fire.

Kate rose from the couch and walked over to him. "I'm sure Celia was upset," she said, kneeling down by his side. "As I would have been. And when you're upset, you do things that aren't necessarily rational. Or considerate. People do irrational things all the time."

"But dammit, Kate, I'm Eliza's father. It's just inconceivable to me how Celia could have 'forgotten.' Or even thought about it and decided she didn't want to let me know. I would never do a thing like that."

"You can't tell what you would do, really, until the time comes. Don't you think?"

He looked into her eyes. "Celia can make all the mis takes she wants as long as she doesn't make them with Eliza and Chris. That's all I ask."

"That's very easy for you to say," Kate said quietly, "since she's the one who's bringing them up, Ben. She
is
going to make mistakes."

He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. When he turned, his eyes were red, and he looked more tired than she had ever seen him. "I'm going to go out there," he said. "For a few days, anyway, over Thanksgiving. How would you like to come with me?"

His eyes studied hers. "Good," he said. "I'll take care of all the arrangements." He reached out and stroked her cheek. "I'll be glad to have you with me, Kate." . She smiled. "Fm glad. Now do you feel a little better, knowing that you're going?"

"I suppose," he said. "I'm very happy you'll be coming along, Kate. It'll give us some time together. But I won't really feel better until I talk to* Eliza and spend some time with her." He sighed. "You know, sometimes I wonder if Celia and I shouldn't have stayed together just for the sake of the kids."

"I don't think that's usually too smart," Kate said. "In the end it hurts everyone. Anyway, Ben, from everything you've told me, your kids have turned out fine. Don't forget—Eliza is sixteen. No one's really happy or well- adjusted at sixteen. It's a really confusing age."

He smiled. "I wanted to run away and join the Foreign Legion when I was sixteen. I wasn't altogether sure what it was, but I wanted to live in the desert and meet beautiful women in smoky Moroccan tearooms and lead dangerous missions through casbahs and mountains and villages." He shook his head. "I spent the summer milking cows on my uncle's farm in North Carolina."

Kate laughed. "Well, that sounds kind of nice—to a city girl like me, anyway." She looked into his eyes, loving the way their amber warmth caressed her. "I'm glad you called, Ben," she said quietly. "We hadn't seen each other in so long I was beginning to think the phone was going to be our only means of communication." She smiled. "Not that it isn't nice talking to you, but—"

He smiled and gently stroked her cheek with a warm hand. "There
are
nicer things," he finished for her. "And

I wish you could stay," he said softly. "Celia's calling me back soon, but after that—"

She shook her head. "I have to go anyway," she said, covering his hand with hers. She loved its feel—man- rough yet tender—its scent, its touch. And as she gazed at this man she loved
—
his warm hazel eyes, his luxuriant dark hair, his rugged jawline—she was filled with happiness, and filled with wonder as well: for she hadn't let herself imagine that things would ever go this well. Soon she'd be going to California with him; and until then,
the
y
would be together as often as they could.

Kate left Ben's with a wonderful glow, a feeling that lasted during her dance class and on into the next
da
y
when she arrived at work. And the happiness she
felt]
inside was matched by the energy at the store, as the
nigh
t
of the party at Xenon drew near. It was now only
littl
e
more than a week away, and hundreds of people had
been]
invited
—
including cosmetics and ready-to-wear clothing
^!
manufacturers, reporters from newspapers, women
's
magazines, radio, and TV, designers, jobbers, wholesalers and models from two of the city's leading agencies. By
the]
night of the party all of the invited guests would
have]
received press kits filled with glossy copies of the
forth
coming print ads, small soaps and colognes, and invitations to participate in the store's new personal shopping program which Ben had suggested and the board had just approved.

Kate had a wonderful feeling about the momentum that was building over the campaign, and she could feel it in! the store as well, even though none of the ads had run yet. There was a different feeling in the air
—
an electricity, an excitement, created partly by the store's new look, partly by the new buying approach, and partly by the feeling that everyone was about to embark on a campaign that would bring lots and lots of new faces In to see what had been going on. Morale was far, far better, with salespeople taking a bit longer to show things to customers, and the new clothes that were in the store made an enormous difference in I and S's overall look. And over half the salespeople had signed up to be trained for the new personal shopping program.

A week before the party was to be held, shooting on the first series of sixty-second TV spots began.

Kate, Ben, Pierce, a free-lance makeup artist, and the Blake-Canfield director and stylist were all at a studio in the East Twenties—cold (the heating had broken), angry, and waiting what seemed like forever for Alexandra to get ready. The stylist had fixed Alexandra's clothes, the makeup artist had fixed her makeup, and the director had gone over her movements and lines dozens of times, but now all were waiting as Kurt talked to her in the back room of the loft. For the third time in ten minutes Alexandra had said she was ready, then burst into tears and gone running off to the back room. And for the third time Kurt was now in there with her, presumably trying to calm her down.

The director, Clyfford Grace, a young, reed-thin man who always had a cigarette or cup of coffee or both in his hands, jumped up from his chair and began pacing.

"What the hell is the matter with this kid?" he said, glaring at Ben and pacing away again. "I thought you said she was booked for a long-run campaign."

"She is," Ben said quietly, his voice full of irony.

"Christ, Austin, can't you do something? That art di-
rector
cum
rep
cum
God knows what can hardly be helping.
He
seems to be the reason she keeps falling apart."

Kate stood up. "I'll see what I can do," she said, and marched off toward the back room, uncertain of what approach would be best.

But as soon as she reached the partition and overheard what Kurt was saying, she knew what she would do.

"Come on, baby," he was cooing. But there was a razor's edge beneath the silk of his voice. "You know what will happen if this doesn't work out. Back to Kansas. No more city, no more me, no more glamor. You're right at the edge, baby. Screw it up and you're finished."

"But it's not fair," she sobbed. "I'm
exhausted.
I told you that last night. Why can't I rest ever? If we hadn't stayed out till six, you know, maybe I wouldn't feel as if I'm completely falling apart."

Kate had heard enough. She knocked on the partition and looked in.

Kurt and Alexandra were sitting on the bed, Kurt closest to the door, his body positioned as if to shield Alexandra from danger. When Kate stepped in, Kurt looked at her with cool annoyance.

"Kurt, please leave us alone for a few minutes," Kate said firmly.

He jerked his head back in surprise. But before he could say anything more, she put a hand on his shoulder. "Now," she said. "It's time for some girl talk."

He pressed his lips together, and she could see him weighing his options. He had always, she realized now, been transparent in this way, showing what he was thinking at any given moment. "All right," he said, standing up. "Just make sure you don't say anything to upset her."

Kate gave him a withering look and then turned to Alexandra as Kurt left and closed the door. "What's bothering you?" she asked gently. "Aside from the pressures of the shooting, I mean."

Alexandra looked up with eyes brimming with tears. "It
is
the shooting. Kurt said if I ruin this, there won't be anything ever again."

Kate sighed. "Look. It
is
important that you do well, Alexandra. But you don't have to do well on the first take. See what it's like working with the director instead of trying to work with Kurt. Believe me, Clyfford Grace has had a lot more experience than Kurt Reeves. And see what it's like trying to please yourself instead of Kurt. Think about what
you
want and how you want to act."

Alexandra frowned. "But I want to do well for
him,"
she said. "You used to go out with him, didn't you—?"

Kate nodded, wondering what else Kurt had told her.

"How can you work with him?" Alexandra asked. "I mean, if he broke up with
me,
I don't know what I'd do."

Kate hesitated, deciding to let it pass. "You do what you have to, Alexandra. And when you know what you want out of your work and your life, it makes things a lot easier. So do me a favor and try
—
just try—not to think about Kurt when you go out there. Just do what you think
is
best."

Alexandra nodded and smiled. "Okay. I promise I'll try. But could I talk to Kurt for just a sec before I go out there again?"

"Oh—" She sighed. "Make it fast. I'll get him for you."

Kate went out and sent Kurt back in, then walked over
to
where Ben and Clyff were drinking coffee by the floor- to-ceiling windows at the far end of the loft. "Well, she