Only sleep would make her forget about Marcus, and the reality that her heart was breaking.
If he never remembered anything else in his life, Marcus would never forget the look of utter devastation in Alice’s eyes when he’d told her their relationship wouldn’t work.
He felt like a total asshole.
She was right. He hadn’t thought about anything more than the here and now when he made love to her. Though he’d wanted to keep their relationship strictly platonic, there was something about her he hadn’t been able to resist.
Even now, Marcus didn’t like thinking about it. He didn’t want to think that he was a man who couldn’t control himself around a pretty face.
Yet as he pulled into the driveway of his house and found Alice’s car gone, the sight of the empty driveway sent his stomach plummeting to his feet.
What more
could
there be to his feelings? What the hell did he know about love? He knew about attraction and lust, but couldn’t trust himself where love was concerned.
Marcus opened the door and stepped out of his car. All day, he’d tried to tell himself that this was for the best. Now that Alice knew they couldn’t have a relationship, they had crossed the biggest hurdle. But all day, he hadn’t been able to believe his own rhetoric.
He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. When he’d gotten his morning coffee, he’d remembered sharing a steaming cup with Alice after a night of making love. Later in the day when he’d
pulled over a speeder on the JFK expressway, he’d remembered the day he had stopped Alice when she’d returned to town. And when he’d gone to the scene of a serious accident, it was Alice he’d seen on the gurney instead of the actual victim, and he’d wondered about her stalker, if she would be safe from the threat without him by her side to protect her. He had also wondered what he would do if she was no longer in his life.
He pushed that thought aside as he stepped inside his house, but he couldn’t as easily push aside the uneasy feeling in his stomach.
As he kicked off his shoes and padded up the stairs, Marcus assured himself the feeling was simply worry. With Alice out of his house, he couldn’t protect her the way he wanted.
He could call her at her mother’s and make sure she was okay. He sat on the bed and lifted the phone’s receiver. Then replaced it. Then lifted it again. He held it in one hand while he punched in Alice’s number with the other. Two digits shy of completing the number, his hand froze. Lingered over the keypad. After a long moment, he returned the receiver to its cradle.
Burying his face in both hands, he groaned. He couldn’t call her. What was he going to say, other than reiterate how much of a jerk he was?
He didn’t know if it was remembering her in his arms, so willing, so trusting, that had him out of sorts. Maybe it was, because being with Alice had been the best experience of his life. He would miss her. Even now, his bed looked empty without her.
Swinging his legs onto the bed, he lay back and stared at the ceiling. Part of him knew what the
problem was. The part of him that had always feared getting too close to another woman. It wasn’t only his horrible experience with Tanisha that had him jaded. It was the whole sordid mess with Melissa.
Melissa had been another pretty face. He’d fallen for her, and ultimately his lack of restraint had gotten her killed.
Marcus didn’t want to think about Tanisha, or Melissa, or his lousy track record with women. Instead, he bounced off the bed and grabbed his sports gear. When he was finished packing his gymbag, he went downstairs to his car.
Yet when he started to drive, he didn’t head to the gym. Tonight, lifting weights wouldn’t do the trick. What he needed was a stiff drink.
Hopefully that would erase the guilt from his mind.
As Alice opened the door and entered the theater, she was startled to find Tanisha standing inside the doorway. “Oh,” she said, putting a hand over her heart. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” Tanisha told her. “Thanks for coming in early.”
Tanisha had called her at her mother’s house early this morning, asking if she could come to the theater at least half an hour before the children were expected to arrive. Alice had readily agreed. Dealing with the theater would help her forget her problems…at least for the afternoon.
And if Tanisha was curious about why Alice was no longer at Marcus’s house, she had the decency not to ask.
“There should be a lot of media,” Tanisha told her, then turned and rounded the corner into the theater.
Alice followed her, then stopped short when she saw Willie standing a few feet down the aisle. She couldn’t be sure if it was simply the unexpected sight of him that had her heart racing out of control. Or fear.
“Hello, Desirée.” He walked to Tanisha’s side and placed an arm around her waist.
Alice’s gaze flew to Tanisha’s. Tanisha and Willie were clearly back to being chummy-chummy. Still, why was he here? Did he want his old job back?
Alice asked, “What’s he doing here?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention Willie would be here?” Tanisha asked innocently.
“What’s going on, Tanisha?” Alice asked.
“It was Willie’s idea that we hold this performance, and he wanted to be here.”
The explanation seemed reasonable enough. So why did Alice still feel uneasy about the whole thing?
“What was it you wanted to discuss?” Alice asked.
“I was hoping we could go over some of the things you might say to the media,” Tanisha replied.
Alice shrugged. “Sure.”
“Come on. Let’s go to the office.”
Willie walked toward the exit while Alice followed Tanisha to the office. Tanisha sat while Alice stood.
“Now, I hope today’s performance will ease everyone’s mind,” Tanisha said. “I figured that once the reporters get here, I’ll speak first about the theater, its history, stuff like that. Then, I’ll allow you to say a few words. Whatever you want—about the children, how you’re enjoying the experience of
teaching. I figure there will be a question-and-answer period at the end as well.”
“All right.” She could handle that.
“I’ve informed all the parents about what is going to happen today, so they’ll most likely stick around.”
“No doubt.” For their children’s sake, Alice prayed none of them expected her to fail.
“I’m hoping this will be a positive experience, but in case someone from the media asks about your drug abuse—”
“I do
not
abuse drugs.”
“Well,” Tanisha hedged, “if they ask about it—”
“I expect you to steer them back on track. I will only be talking about the children and the play. Understand?”
“Sure.”
There was a quick rap on the office door and Alice turned in time to see Willie enter. “The first of the media have arrived,” he said.
“Already?” Alice asked. She had a feeling of foreboding, like something would go wrong.
“They’re setting up a camera as we speak.”
Tanisha hopped up from her chair. “I’ll go greet them. You can stay here until I come back for you.”
“No problem,” Alice said. She was a seasoned performer, used to being in the public eye. But that knowledge didn’t help her swallow her fears.
“Can I get either of you some coffee?” Willie asked.
“Coffee would be great,” Alice said. Anything to help keep her awake and alert.
“Make a whole carafe,” Tanisha told him. “I think everyone could use some today.”
Marcus exited the JFK expressway en route to the theater. He hadn’t planned on showing up here today, but after Tanisha had called for Alice early this morning and he’d learned of today’s performance, he knew he had to be there for Alice.
Besides any possible threat to her life, he wanted to be there to show his support for the first public performance of the play. No, he didn’t think she’d be happy to see him, but he hadn’t been able to convince himself to stay away. He’d been at all of Alice’s performances as a teenager. He wasn’t about to fail her now.
Hell, who was he kidding? He simply wanted to see her. He still felt bad about their argument yesterday morning and he hoped that seeing her would ease his mind.
He would see her, make sure she was all right, and then go home. And hopefully after that, his conscience would be cleared.
Alice sat anxiously in the office as she waited for Tanisha to return. Several minutes later, she still hadn’t.
She tried not to be anxious. Tanisha was no doubt dealing with the media, as well as parents and children. She’d return soon enough.
At the sound of movement behind her, Alice turned. Willie approached her with a large mug. “Your coffee.”
Alice reached for it, thinking that this was her only vice. She didn’t do drugs and she could live
without alcohol, but life without coffee? She couldn’t even imagine it.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Alice inhaled the coffee before she took a sip, the way she always did. The rich, wonderful aroma filtered into her nose. “Who’s here?”
“I think everyone’s here,” he replied. “Except for a few of the media.”
“Oh.” Tanisha should be coming for her any minute. “In that case, I’d better drink this quickly.”
Willie disappeared and Tanisha finally returned minutes later. “Showtime,” Tanisha told her.
Alice stood and inhaled a shaky breath. She wished she wasn’t so nervous, but she’d do what she always did. Use the nervous energy in a positive way.
She followed Tanisha out the doors that led to the auditorium, then up the side stairs to the stage. Alice took a mental note of the children sitting cross-legged behind the podium. They all appeared to be there. Mia smiled and waved at her. She waved back.
As she turned to face the audience, Alice’s head suddenly felt light. Damn, she didn’t realize just how unnerving this was going to be. Perhaps if the theater lights were dimmed so she couldn’t quite make out the number of people watching her, she wouldn’t feel so on edge.
Tanisha spoke to the crowd, but Alice didn’t pay attention to what she said. She could only hear the pounding of her pulse in her ears.
“Desirée,” Tanisha said, walking toward her and touching her arm.
“Oh,” Alice quickly said.
Tanisha flashed her a puzzled look. “They’re waiting for you.”
“Oh. Oh, of course.” She stepped past Tanisha and found her legs were wobbly. She straightened her spine, hoping she hadn’t stumbled.
Why did she feel so…odd? She had never felt quite so out of sorts before. She gripped the podium edges for support, then stared out into the audience. As her gaze swept from left to right, she noticed Marcus sitting alone a few rows behind everybody else. Her pulse quickened. What was he doing here?
She continued her surveillance of the crowd, and was shocked as hell to find her mother and sister sitting to the far right about three rows from the front.
Alice suddenly felt queasy. She closed her eyes briefly, then forced a smile.
“Good afternoon, everyone.” Her voice sounded weird to her own ears. “I suppose I should introduce myself. My stage name is Desirée LaCroix, but my real name is…” Her voice trailed off as the room went fuzzy. She closed her eyes, but the room continued to spin. Something was wrong with her. She forced her eyes open. “My name is Desirée LaCroix. That’s my stage name.” God, hadn’t she said that already? She could barely form a coherent thought, much less coherent speech.
“I have a question, Ms. LaCroix.” Alice focused on a man in the audience who was standing. At least she thought it was a man, because the voice was deep. The truth was, she couldn’t tell. Damn, she could hardly see.
“I’ve heard from a source that before every per
formance, you use drugs to help you get by. Is that true?”
“Pardon me?”
The man continued to speak, but his voice sounded like a warped tape playing inside her head.
Alice’s head throbbed as the world around her spun out of control. Somehow, she steadied her eyes long enough to see Marcus’s form. She saw him shoot to his feet just before the world slipped away and darkness overcame her.
What the hell?
Marcus watched Alice as she tried to maintain control. She looked good, dressed in a conservative black pantsuit, with her hair swept up in a bun. But it was clear she had lost her faculties, because her speech was slurred and she gripped the podium so hard she gave the appearance that she’d fall if she let it go.
He saw the reporter jump to his feet in his peripheral vision, and could only imagine what they were all thinking. So the question about Alice’s drug use didn’t surprise him. Right now, Alice indeed looked as if she were high on something.
He waited for her to answer the reporter’s question. Saw her wobble and grip the podium harder. Then he stood as he watched her eyes flit about the room, wondering what the hell was wrong with her.
The next second, she collapsed into a heap on the stage. An audible gasp reverberated through the theater and several people stood. Behind her, the children hustled to their feet, rushing toward her.
Dread washed over Marcus.
Please let her be all right,
he prayed, adrenaline coursing through his veins, propelling him with lightning speed to the stage. He forced his way through the crowd of curious children and Tanisha, dropping to Alice’s side.
“My God, Marcus,” Tanisha said. “She assured me she wasn’t taking any drugs.”
Marcus silenced Tanisha with a look, then turned his attention back to Alice. “Alice,” he said softly. “Can you hear me?”
She didn’t move.
His stomach clenched. She was so still, she almost seemed…He pushed that thought aside as he felt for a pulse. His shoulders dropped with relief. She had a pulse, but it was weak.
“Alice,” he repeated, this time clenching her hand. It was limp within his.
He needed to get her to the hospital. As he gathered her into his arms, he caught sight of a camera crew to his right. They were filming the entire episode.
“For God’s sake,” he said, lifting Alice. “Shut the damn camera off.”
“This is news,” a reporter he recognized from a local news station countered.
“So she really is on drugs,” another reporter mumbled, then started making notes.
“If you report that,” Marcus said in a lethal tone, “be prepared for a lawsuit.”
He started past the throng of reporters and parents, and stepped smack into Mia’s path. He stared down at her tear-stained face.
“Is my aunt okay?”
The soft little voice was his undoing. Until now,
he’d taken charge the way a cop would, working to get her help while ignoring the reality that the situation might be graver than he imagined. But seeing and hearing Mia’s pain made him realize how important Alice was not only to the children here and her own family, but how important she was to him.
God, he couldn’t lose her. Not now.
“She’ll be okay, Mia,” he told her. “I promise you that.”
Then he hurried down the steps with Alice and out of the theater.
Her brain was in a fog. She struggled to move her head, but it hurt. She struggled to fight through the haze until she could think again.
A jolt of memory hit her, the memory of where she
should
be—in front of a crowd at the theater—and Alice struggled to open her eyes. Confusion washed over her. Where was she?
Her eyes darted from left to right, and at first all she could see was a blur of light. Then her eyes began to focus, and she made out shapes. A television hanging on the far wall. A window to the right of the television.
“Aunt Alice!”
Hearing the familiar voice of her niece, Alice’s eyes flickered to the left. Her mother, sister, and Mia congregated on the left side of the bed.
“Where am I?” Her voice came out in a croak.
“You’re in the hospital, baby.”
Alice’s eyes settled on her mother. Rosa’s eyes were red and swollen. Clearly, she’d been crying. “What happened?”
Marie and Rosa exchanged concerned glances before Marie spoke. “We were hoping you could tell us.”
Alice drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Man, her head really hurt. Her body felt so heavy, like her limbs were made of lead. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t remember what happened yesterday?” Marie asked.
“Yesterday?”
Alice exclaimed. “What day is it?”
“It’s Sunday.”
“Oh my God.” Things were becoming clearer, though nothing made sense. “The play. What happened?”
“The performance had to be postponed.”
Alice lifted her head in an effort to sit up, but the room spun. She dropped her head back onto the pillow.
“People are saying you were on drugs yesterday, Aunt Alice. But it’s not true, is it?” Mia’s bottom lip quivered. “You just got sick, right?”
Alice reached for her hand. “I would never do drugs, Mia.” Though the way she felt now, she had to wonder if someone hadn’t drugged her.
“I knew it,” Mia said, sounding relieved. “That’s what Marcus told the doctors, too.”
“Marcus was here?”
“Uh-huh. He’s the one who took you to the hospital.”
“Is he…here now?”
“He stepped out a few minutes ago to talk to the doctor,” Marie responded. She turned to Mia. “Mia honey, you must be hungry.”
“Uh-huh.”
“C’mon.” Marie wrapped a hand around her shoulder. “Let’s get you something to eat. Alice, we’ll be back in a bit. Mama, you want to join us?”
“No,” Rosa said softly.
When Maria and Mia disappeared, Alice faced her mother. “If you still believe that I took drugs, then you may as well leave.”
Instead of huffing and stalking out of the room, Rosa did something Alice didn’t expect. She reached for her hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Don’t stay because you feel sorry for me.”
“I’m staying because I believe in you. When you told me a couple days ago that you had never touched drugs, I believed you.”
For years Alice had waited to hear those words, that her mother believed in her and supported her. But it had taken so long, she wasn’t sure she could now trust them. “Why now?”