LovePlay (8 page)

“Actors are nuts.” He chuckled.

“Eccentric,” she corrected. “Cul always used to carry a turquoise key chain along with him. I suppose we’ve all got our little quirks.”

“I suppose. Well, break a leg, darling.”

“I’ll do my best. You, too.”

He winked and was gone. She sat staring into the mirror as she put on her stage makeup. Her heart hammered as she wondered if Cul would be out there tonight to watch. Surely he wouldn’t miss opening night, even of a revival. If he came, then she could tell him after the show.

What if it wasn’t a success? She frowned. No, that was defeatist thinking. Of course it would be a success. It was Cul’s play, wasn’t it? Would he bring Cherrie with him? Her heart fell. Damn men everywhere!

She was putting on the final touches when the door suddenly opened and Cul walked in, bigger than life in his dark evening clothes. The hand mirror she was holding slipped out of her nerveless fingers and hit the table with a clatter.

“Surprised to see me?” he asked.

“A little,” she confessed. She wanted to get up and run to him, but the expression on his deeply tanned face was forbidding. “You look well.”

“California is good for any ailment,” he murmured, studying her carelessly. “Nervous?”

“I’m always nervous before a performance.” She ran the brush through her hair again, trying to will her hand not to tremble.

“I tried to ring you this morning. You were out, so I called Janet. She said you were with David.”

“Yes,” she said noncommittally. “Did you want something?”

“To wish you luck.”

“I make my own luck,” she said, feeling suddenly strong and capable. She stared at him in the mirror. “How’s Cherrie? Did you bring her with you?”

His face hardened. “Bett…”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to make a scene,” she assured him. Her eyes searched his face.

“I never thought you were.” He frowned, studying her. “You’re different.”

“I’m pregnant.”

She hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that; it was pure nervous reaction to his odd behavior. But it was too late for regrets. She watched him, trying desperately to find some kind of reaction.

He lifted an eyebrow over hard green eyes. “You’re what?” he asked.

“Pregnant.”

“Yes, I know. It’s in the script.”

She swallowed. “Cul, it’s not only in the script. Not now.” She searched his face, fascinated by the slow draining of color, by the sudden wild glitter of his eyes. She laughed nervously. “Well, I did mention that we hadn’t taken precautions….”

His breathing was ragged. Although he hadn’t moved an inch, he seemed to grow taller, broader. His eyes were frightening.

“Pregnant by whom?” he asked in the coldest tone she’d ever heard.

“By you, of course,” she faltered. “You know I was a virgin.”

“Were, yes,” he agreed. “But you’ve been with Hadison a lot since I left.”

“I never slept with him,” she said softly. “There was only you.”

He started to laugh, slowly, bitterly. He threw back his head and roared, leaning back against the door, with his hands in his pockets. “So you’re pregnant, and it’s mine.”

She felt an icy finger run down her spine. “Of course it’s yours.”

He caught his breath and the expression on his face could have stopped an armed combat veteran. “Well, that’s interesting. A biological miracle.”

“Miracle?” She stood up slowly, feeling her legs wobble. “We slept together!”

“Of course we did, darling,” he drawled mockingly. His eyes narrowed, so cold they made her shiver as they ran down her body. “Just as I’ve slept with a dozen other women. But none of them got pregnant, and we never had to worry about precautions.”

Her lips trembled. He wasn’t making sense.

“You don’t understand yet?” He lifted his head at an arrogant angle and smiled at her. “If you’re really pregnant, Bett, and this isn’t some wild last-ditch stand to get me in front of a minister, you’ve put your foot in it for good. You see, darling,” he added, with ice dripping from his voice, “I can’t father a child. One of the foremost experts in fertility in the country told me that it would take a miracle for me to get a woman pregnant. I’m sterile.”

Sterile, sterile, sterile… The word kept echoing in her mind like a litany. He said something else, something insulting, but she wasn’t hearing him anymore. Her eyes were wide and horrified as what he was telling her penetrated the mists. He was telling her that he didn’t believe the child was his. That it couldn’t be his. But she knew for an absolute fact that it was, because there hadn’t been another man!

“There wasn’t anyone else,” she whispered numbly.

“Of course not,” he agreed. “And this is one for the record books, isn’t it?” He shouldered away from the door. “But, Bett, if you tell anyone that baby’s mine, I’ll sue you to hell and back. I won’t have my inadequacies paraded in a paternity suit and let the papers have a field day with me.” His eyes glittered dangerously. “Beyond that, I’ll make damned sure you never work again. So keep your lies to yourself, darling.”

Her mind seemed to freeze. “But the baby…” she whispered shakily.

“That’s Hadison’s problem. not mine,” he said, turning on his heel. “Let him take care of you.”

“Cul!” she screamed.

He glanced at her from the open door, his look so contemptuous that it made her want to hide. “You never knew, did you, why I wrote so many plays about pregnant women? Or why I walked away from you when you were eighteen? You wanted children so much….” He laughed coldly. “I wish I’d had a camera when I told you. The look on your face was a revelation. Did you think I’d break my neck to marry you, once I knew?”

She knew her face was white, and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She sat down quickly, trying to breathe steadily.

“Not feeling well?” he asked mockingly. “I’ll call the proud papa. I’m sure he’ll be only too anxious to look after you. Break a leg tonight, Bett. I want you on that stage if you have to drag yourself onto it, understand?”

He walked out, slamming the door after him. She thought of every foul name she’d ever heard and used them all, with her head between her knees, until the nausea passed. She was devastated, but she wasn’t going to let that animal know it. She’d go on, all right. And she’d give the performance of her life!

She got to her feet just as David walked in the door, looking pale and ragged around the edges.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I should be asking you,” she replied, and inside she was numb and proud. “Did he hit you?”

“No. But he might as well have. My God, is he blind?” he asked curtly. “Why won’t he accept the baby?”

“He doesn’t want to be a father, of course,” she returned smoothly. She couldn’t tell him the truth, she didn’t have the right. She took a deep breath. “David, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, unless it’s believing that fourteen karat s.o.b.,” he said. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll take care of you. We’ll get married.”

“No.” She walked close and kissed his cheek gently. “You’re like a big brother to me, and if you’ll think about it, that’s not a bad thing to be. I love him, David. I’ve never stopped and I never will, even though right now I could strangle him.”

He laughed softly. “Want me to lend you a hand?”

She leaned against him. “No, never mind. But thank you, all the same.” She closed her eyes. “David, thank you for caring.”

He put his arms around her and held her gently. “I care a lot more than you want me to,” he said softly. “Don’t get upset. It’s not good for the baby.”

“Yes, I know.” She nuzzled her face into his shoulder. “I’ll be fine. Really I will.”

“How cozy,” came a harsh voice from the door.

They both turned to see Cul standing there, glaring. “You’re being called. Let’s get on stage, shall we? If you can tear yourselves away from each other long enough. It’s curtain time.”

“Shall we, darling?” she asked David, deliberately adding to Cul’s already vivid picture.

“By all means.” He took her arm and escorted her out the door.

She walked onto the stage at her cue with a presence she hadn’t felt since she’d played Elizabeth the First. Her regal carriage, her confidence, radiated like fox fire. By the time she’d finished her monologue in the opening act, there was the silence of the tomb in the theater. But as the curtain went down on act 1, the applause burst like a bomb.

David hugged her ecstatically. “My God, what a performance!” he burst out backstage. “You’re going to get the Tony for this!”

“Some performance.” She laughed halfheartedly. “I’m a pregnant lady playing a pregnant lady. That isn’t even acting.”

“What you’re doing out there is,” he corrected, his dark eyes sympathetic. “I’m so proud of you, Bett.”

She beamed. “Thanks. The show must go on, and all that,” she added, although her heart was breaking into pieces inside.

“Doing okay?” Dick called, rubbing his bald head.

“Fine!” she called back, and he nodded and turned away.

She glared up at David. “Does he…?”

He grimaced. “Well, I was afraid he might push too hard, and that you’d let him. I know it wasn’t my place, but dammit, somebody’s got to look after you. Cul won’t, damn him!”

She could have seconded that, but it made her feel odd, to have Dick know. Inevitably he’d let it slip, and then everybody would know. But she couldn’t quit the play now. She needed the money too much.

“David, you’re sweet, but…”

“Yes, I know.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He rushed off as she let the dresser put her quickly into a different, more definite maternity dress.

It was a long evening, and she tired more easily than she’d expected to. But the thought of Edward McCullough sitting out there in harsh judgment of her was enough to keep her on her feet even though she felt like lying down on the stage. She’d show him. His opinion of her didn’t matter one bit! If he could believe she’d betray him with another man, he didn’t have an ounce of trust in her. And that meant that he couldn’t love her. Love was trusting, right down to the death.

She felt as if she’d been utterly used. But the baby was the one thing about their relationship that she couldn’t regret. Even the prospect of raising it alone didn’t bother her; she knew she’d manage. Cul was too frozen up to love anyone, but the baby would let her love it. She felt tears welling in her eyes. Why wouldn’t Cul believe her? Why couldn’t he let himself believe in miracles? Obviously he wasn’t sterile, or how could she be pregnant? But perhaps he’d tortured himself with the thought for too long to let go of it. Like a bad habit, he couldn’t break it.

Maybe someday he’d come to his senses, she thought. But by then, it would be too late. And there was the black possibility that he’d always believe the baby was David’s, even if it grew up blond and green-eyed. By and large, people believed what suited them. And being a father obviously didn’t suit Cul, because he couldn’t face the possibility that she was telling the truth.

When the final curtain went down, she was utterly exhausted and ready to drop. But she walked out to thunderous applause and was pelted with long-stemmed red and yellow and white roses, and bouquets of them were carried onstage. Tears ran down her cheeks as the opening performance ended triumphantly. Her career was made. The money would come. Her financial worries were over. But her personal ones were just beginning.

Backstage in her dressing room, she took off her makeup and dressed in slacks and a pullover blouse before people managed to break in and start congratulating her. She took it all with breathless enthusiasm, feeling unexpectedly buoyed up and adored.

It wasn’t until Cul showed up with a devastating blonde in tow that the bubble broke. And David wasn’t around to catch her this time.

“You were just wonderful, dear,” the blonde said from her exquisite mask, clinging to Cul’s arm. “I wanted to be an actress, you know, but mother wouldn’t hear of it,” she added on a carefully sad sigh. “I did enjoy your interpretation of the role. Cul said you were a good actress, but I have to be shown. Of course, I was. I truly was.”

“Thank you,” Bett said politely, wondering what the blonde would say if she told her about the baby and who its father was.

“Now we really must go,” the blonde told Cul, “if we’re going to make it to Nassau tonight. Cul’s spending a few weeks with us while he works on that Hollywood thing, aren’t you, darling? Not that I expect him to do much work around me,” she added suggestively.

“Keep the quality up, Bett,” Cul said with careless praise. “You were extremely good tonight.’

“Don’t bother your head about me, darling,” Bett said with sarcastic emphasis, “I’m a survivor.”

He glared at her. “Yes, I found that out, didn’t I?”

She only smiled. “I’ll see that you get an invitation to the wedding,” she said, lying deliberately because he was killing her and she wanted to hurt him just as badly.

But there was no reaction at all. He lifted his eyebrows. “Do that. I might be able to make it. Ready, Tammy?”

The blonde started to say something, but he pushed her gently out the door. “Not now, darling,” he murmured on a laugh. “So long, Bett.”

And just that quickly he was gone. She sat down. Cherrie. Tammy. So that was what Cul’s women usually looked like. Exquisite and wealthy and cultured. Everything that Bett wasn’t. She felt the tears come with a sense of desolate finality.

She grabbed her coat and ducked through the well-wishers, rushing until she reached the stage door. She thought she heard David call to her, but she ignored him. Her mind had been crushed by Cul’s behavior, by his deliberate mocking of her condition, and by the fact that he’d brought that woman with him.

She wasn’t even aware of where she was going. She didn’t know or care that it was dark and cold, and she found herself heading for the river.

She walked for a long time, keeping her pace brisk, oblivious to the danger. She felt her feet go numb with every step, and in her mind Cul’s voice kept repeating, “I’m sterile…. I’m sterile…. The baby isn’t mine….”

Around her, the sound of traffic sounded unreal. Her eyes noticed the lights without really seeing them. She’d found the river, and she was so numb with pain and hopelessness that she didn’t even think about the baby she was carrying. She stared down at the black water, wondering if there was any peace to be found there.