Past Heaven (42 page)

Liz looked over as Cindy was wildly typing on her phone. “What are you doing?”

Cindy looked up and winked at me. “Updating my Facebook status and Twitter feed. This is a big day for me too. I have to keep my people informed.”

Liz groaned and rolled her eyes at me. “And what are you informing them of?” She grabbed Cindy’s phone and read aloud to me:
Sitting in a limo with the studly Reynolds Carter. He so wants me. He just doesn’t know it yet. Too bad I’m a kept woman.

We all enjoyed the emotional release from a hearty laugh, compliments of Cindy.

“You guys stay as long as you want at this party. I can’t be too close to you, or it’ll be all over the rags. I’ll walk you to a table and then mingle,” I said, as Liz reached over, straightening my tie and nodding.

Moments later, we arrived at the trendy new fusion restaurant where the party was being held. “I love you, text you later,” I whispered before the door was opened by the driver.

Liz waved and exited the car. The two women entered the party arm in arm, and I closed my eyes in silent prayer. I hoped the press would be gentle on us tomorrow. She had no idea how cruel they could be.

THE AFTER PARTY was a true Hollywood glamour-fest. Fabulous food, flowing drinks, and high-end décor. Cindy and I reveled in people watching and meeting some of the other actors in the movie. Watching people fling themselves at Reynolds and knowing I couldn’t be with him was hard. Young models were openly hanging on him. Madeline was just as bad. She hung on his arm and rubbed his back during the interviews. Her actions were manipulative and gross.

“Hey, isn’t that the bitch?” Cindy elbowed me. We looked at the entrance to the restaurant.

“Sure is, and it appears she came with an entourage.” As we stared, Kylie spotted Reynolds and went right to him, like she had a purpose.

“Want me to go accidentally on purpose spill my watermelon martini on her head?” Cindy asked when Kylie kissed him on the cheek.

Reynolds’ body stiffened, but I knew he was in full-on PR mode. Cindy and I watched Kylie give interviews as well, as if she had a part in the movie. Kylie made me actually like Madeline.

“Hello, Liz.” If it were possible to feel the temperature of words, those two would be ice cold. Madeline’s greeting matched her demeanor. Part of me had hoped Reynolds hadn’t told her how upset I had been by our last meeting, but then again the new me didn’t really give a shit.

I extended my hand to her, politeness overtaking contempt. “Congratulations on the movie, Madeline. I enjoyed it very much.” There. I said it. I was nice, but I didn’t tell her she did a good job playing me. I couldn’t muster up that amount of fakeness.

After her curt nod in farewell, Cindy and I decided to take off. I didn’t try to find Reynolds. He deserved to have his time in the spotlight. He had worked hard and done a magnificent job. I was proud of him and moved that Jack’s story was touching people. I was walking on air.

I had been blown away watching the movie. Reynolds became Jack. He studied my stories and those of Jack’s colleagues closely. He included the little nuances in his role that
were
my husband. A part of me had worried that I would resent Reynolds when I saw him “pretend” to be Jack, but it was the opposite. Reynolds had taken his role seriously and with unparalleled respect for Jack. His portrayal showed me that Reynolds cared about him, and that only made me love Reynolds more.

The hard part was having my life story on film for everyone to see. Even though people loved Jack, Elwood, and all the other prodigious people portrayed in the film, it was very raw for me. I missed Jack all over again and felt the trauma of his loss repeatedly. I felt him in my arms, drenched in blood, and I wanted to throw up.

The way the movie ended, with me taking over as director of the Warren agency to carry on Jack’s mission and Elwood getting married to his long-term girlfriend, brought the audience closure. For me, it was necessary but not true. That wasn’t my ending, and while I didn’t know for sure what my ending would be, my life would involve Reynolds. I couldn’t wait for all of this to settle down, so I could be with him again.

I stumbled out of bed, drowsy. “Who is it?”

“Room service.” I opened the door and in came the cart and a very apologetic attendant. “I’m sorry it’s early, but the gentleman said that it had to be delivered immediately.”

A warm smile spread over my face. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me there’s a fire or something. Anything to justify interrupting my beauty sleep. You know how I get if I don’t have my eight hours.” Cindy felt her way into the room and then her jaw dropped to the ground. “Forget I said anything.” She came over, immediately awakened from her deep slumber. “Your man is the bomb. Shit, can I borrow him? Mmm. Champagne.” Along with the champagne, there was a huge tray of breakfast pastries, flowers, juice, and coffee. The note on the flowers read:

I smiled and poured a steaming cup of coffee. I fired up my iPad to see if the movie reviews were out. As I drank the fabulous hot beverage, I choked. Front page on the
L.A. Reporter
was an interview with Kylie Ford.

I scanned the article, with my heart in my throat, as tears pooled in my eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Kylie’s interviews from last night were about
me.
She had lied about
me
to the national papers. She had blamed
me
for the ending of hers and Reynolds’ relationship and keeping them apart. What the fuck was happening? I cried out loud as Cindy read over my shoulder.

“That fucking bitch. She has the nerve to claim
you
broke them up?” She grabbed the iPad from my hands and walked to the window. “Kylie says you approached Reynolds about this movie and convinced him to leave her when they were giving it another shot? Holy hell, Liz. Oh and this part is the best, that you kept making advances toward him during the writing process, but he fought you off? I’m going to kill her.” Cindy paced the room, waving my iPad in protest.

“Yes.” My voice shook as I stood and read with her. “I like the section where she claims he wanted to be with her, and I told him ‘no movie deal’ unless he stayed with me. This is just bullshit. Bradley is going to flip his lid.” I rubbed my temples and sat on the couch.

Cindy was quiet for a moment and then exploded. “Fuck me!”

“What?” I jumped to my feet, and the room spun with my quick movement. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I would eventually find out.

“There’s a follow-up story with Madeline Montgomery. She confirms Kylie’s story and adds that you even came on set and stalked Reynolds. You found out he was rehearsing with her and showing an interest in her, and you threatened to leak movie details if he didn’t stop.
Son of a bitch
, they’re making you look like a damn crazy person.”

I wiped the tears from my eyes as the pounding in my head escalated. I hadn’t gotten a stress migraine since the funeral, but I could feel it coming like a freight train. My eyes hurt from the light of the room, my stomach spun with nausea, and my head ached like it was being squeezed in a vice.

“Just get it over with. Anything else?” I put my head beneath my knees, trying to keep from passing out, and Cindy sat next to me, rubbing my back.

“Just one more thing. Reynolds’ only comment is, ‘no comment,’ to all this fucking shit. He’s also seen leaving the after party with his arm around Kylie, kissing her temple. Oh my god, the picture is right here.” I raised my head to see my love, my soul, holding Kylie. I held my hand to my mouth and raced to the bathroom to vomit.

I laid in my dark room with a cold washcloth over my eyes. The migraine medicine hadn’t taken effect, but at least I had stopped vomiting. What was going on? Could I have been played? Was this all for the movie? He couldn’t…he wouldn’t use me. But that picture. The ‘no comment.’

I heard shouting outside and focused on taking deep breaths. Any noise threatened to make me get sick again and intensified the pain in my head.

“No, you can’t see her. She doesn’t want to see you. She’s puking her guts out and has a migraine because of
you
and your little fucking sluts!” Cindy screamed at him, and I could picture his face when he knew what state I was in.

“Liz!” Reynolds bellowed. “I’m coming in. I have to see you.” Reynolds burst through my bedroom door with Cindy on his heels. He flew next to me, bent on his knees, and put his head on my belly. I took the washcloth away from my eyes and looked at Cindy’s worried face.

“It’s okay, Cind. I can talk to him.” I whispered because talking hurt too much. She nodded and closed the door, but not before shooting daggers from her eyes at Reynolds.

Reynolds opened his mouth to speak, and I held up my hand. “You should go. I keep throwing up. So much pain, I can’t even communicate. We can discuss all this later.”

Reynolds’ voice broke as he rubbed my hand. “I’m not fucking leaving you. I’m not,” He whispered heatedly. “It’s my fault you’re like this. I’m so sorry. Those women are bitches. I want to hurt someone. I….” I went to grab Reynolds’ hand and saw that it was wrapped in bloody gauze.

“Reynolds!” I sat up, and the nausea returned with a vengeance. I leaned over the side of the bed where Cindy had left a trash can. Reynolds’ hands held my hair away from my face and stroked my back.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured as I vomited again. When nothing was left, he wiped my face with the wash cloth and tucked me back into bed.

“What happened to your hand?” I mumbled miserably, eyes closed.

“One very unlucky reporter asked the wrong question. I saw those stories this morning, and I was livid. I walked out my front door to come here and get you, and he yelled a dumb-ass question. Unfortunately for him, he was standing on private property. He’s missing a few teeth now, but my lawyer told me not to worry about it. I was within my rights to kick the bastard off my lawn.” Reynolds whispered.

I smirked. “Grayson would be proud.” Reynolds laid his head again on my belly and held my hand.

“Liz, you need to know that I said ‘no comment’ earlier in the night when they asked about us dating. I never would have said that about those horrible stalker remarks. Never. They took it completely out of context. The picture is altered, too. That was a photo from over a year ago. I’d bet everything I fucking have that Kylie even wore the same dress to make the picture look legit. I’m so sorry.” I could hear and feel Reynolds’ anguish.