“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully, standing to his full six-foot-two-inch height. His smile vanished and Alice didn’t have a clue what was going through his mind.
Marcus stared at Alice, taking in the sight of her. He knew from the magazines he’d collected, from the interviews he’d watched on television, from the images he’d seen of her on the big screen that she was beautiful. Yet he didn’t really know if her beauty was real or a trick of lighting and makeup, because he hadn’t actually seen her in the flesh for almost thirteen years.
Now he knew without a doubt. Alice Watson had in fact blossomed into a beautiful swan. There’d been no tricks with makeup or lighting. In fact, with no makeup on now, she looked even more beautiful than when he’d seen her on the screen, which he never would have imagined was possible. It was hard to believe she was actually the same Alice he’d known in high school.
Not that he couldn’t tell she was the same person, but man, this version was literally stunning. Full, sexy lips. Clear, honey-brown skin. Bright, cinnamon-colored eyes. Silky black hair that kissed her shoulders. She was quite slim now, maybe seventy pounds lighter than she’d been when he’d last seen her. A little too skinny, perhaps.
Except for those breasts, he realized, as his eyes ventured lower.
His gaze went back to her face. Those bright eyes
were wide with surprise as she looked up at him, and Marcus’s face went warm with embarrassment. Damn, what was wrong with him? Checking her out like she was a piece of meat. He remembered what Khalil had said about him needing to unwind, and for the first time Marcus conceded that his friend might be right.
“So,” Alice began, “we meet again.”
“Yeah.”
One word, but at least he was talking. Talking was better than this strained silence between them. Though with the way he’d looked at her, Alice had to wonder if he hadn’t just been checking her out.
“How are you, Marcus?”
He shrugged. “I’m all right.”
If he’d been checking her out a moment ago, he certainly wasn’t now. And he didn’t sound all right. He sounded…annoyed, maybe? Maybe he simply felt as awkward as she suddenly did. Trying to make conversation with a man who she’d once considered a dear friend after thirteen years of not seeing or speaking to him—of course that was awkward. She forced a bright smile. “How’s Tanisha?”
“We’re divorced.”
“Divorced?” Alice nearly choked on the word. She had always known Tanisha would hurt him.
“Yep. I thought I knew her, but I didn’t. But then, I thought I knew other people, but was wrong about them too.”
The brusque tone of his voice combined with the way his eyes narrowed slightly made Alice realize he
was
annoyed with her. And truth be told, she couldn’t blame him.
“I’m surprised you came back,” he said when she remained silent.
“My mother.” The reality of it all washed over her once more. Would it ever feel real? “She’s had a heart attack.”
Marcus’s eyes grew round with shock. He leaned forward, once again resting his arm on the window frame. “I’m sorry.”
“I guess word doesn’t spread around the neighborhood like it used to.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve been living in East Rogers Park for the past ten years. And I work downtown.”
“Oh. Well…” Her voice trailed off as she couldn’t think of anything to say to him that wouldn’t sound lame. Or reinforce the fact that she didn’t know him anymore. East Rogers Park was miles away from the southern suburb where they’d grown up. Finally, she sighed. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. If she’ll be okay. She’s having triple-bypass surgery at Cook County Hospital as we speak. I…I had to get out of there.” Once again, Alice realized her mother might actually die.
“Damn. That’s serious. Are you okay?”
“It doesn’t quite feel real yet.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
She considered his question, then frowned. “No.”
“How about a coffee somewhere? Maybe on the waterfront?”
“With you?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
Alice recognized Marcus’s old protective instincts kicking in, and maybe, if their friendship hadn’t died, she would have taken him up on his offer. But
after thirteen years, it would be too awkward to lean on him for support the way she once had.
She asked, “Aren’t you working?”
“I can take a break.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Marcus.” Disappointment passed over his features, and Alice quickly added, “I just need to be alone right now. I need some quiet time before I head back to the hospital.”
“Sure.” He thrummed his fingers on the window frame of her car, then stood. “I’ll see you around, then.”
“Yeah.”
“Just slow down, okay? Another cop won’t be so nice.”
She smiled her thanks, and as he turned and headed back to his cruiser, she watched him through the side-view mirror. Well, he definitely did the police uniform proud. He looked both powerful and sexy. But even seeing him in uniform, she could hardly believe he was actually a cop—which once again drove the point home of just how far apart they’d drifted.
She started the car and eased into traffic. Only as she drove off did she realize that she hadn’t told Marcus a way to reach her. And he hadn’t asked.
As Marcus slipped into his cruiser, he watched the sporty BMW merge into traffic. He kept it in his sight until it became a blur up ahead, then disappeared around a curve.
Alice Watson. Desirée LaCroix. Whoever. He shook his head ruefully. He shouldn’t be disappointed, but he was. Hadn’t he known she had
changed? He didn’t need to physically see her to accept that fact. Practically from the day she had left Chicago and headed for Los Angeles, she’d forgotten about him—and he had been one of her best friends. Or so he’d thought.
He’d sent her two letters the first month she’d been away, then an invitation to his wedding in the fall. She’d responded to the two letters, but hadn’t responded to the invitation. Just in case she hadn’t gotten it, he’d sent another one. When he still didn’t receive a reply, he hadn’t worried about it, figuring she was busy, but he had been certain she’d come back for the event. She was, after all, his best friend. But not only had Alice not come home for his wedding, she hadn’t even called to explain why she hadn’t been there on one of the most important days of his life.
He hadn’t tried to reach her after that, waiting instead to hear from her, but she hadn’t written him. Hadn’t called. There were many times he had missed his friend and wanted to contact her, but, wondering what the hell was going on, he played the stubborn game and continued waiting. Finally, when he’d graduated from the police academy the following spring, he’d sent her a brief letter, but again, no response. Marcus had finally figured out that she wanted nothing to do with him now that she was on her way to stardom.
Just like that, their friendship was over. And Marcus had felt a sense of disillusionment. He could understand her not contacting her mother, since her mother had more or less thrown her out. And her sister had never been much of a sister from what
he’d seen. But him? He had never expected she’d cut him out of her life.
Though he never would have believed it if someone had told him it would happen, Alice Watson had “gone Hollywood.” She’d even gotten herself a stage name once she’d become successful—Desirée LaCroix. How pretentious was that?
Maybe he was judging her too harshly. Maybe she simply wanted a new name to reflect her new image. She had changed dramatically over the years, shedding several pounds, changing her hair, her clothes. She’d grown into a beautiful woman, no doubt, and her new image spoke of flair and success. It was what she’d always wanted—and what she had achieved.
So why didn’t Marcus feel happier for her?
Alice continued her drive at a steady pace, careful to stay within the posted speed limit. What an unbelievable twenty-four hours this had been! First her mother’s unexpected heart attack, then Marcus’s sudden reappearance in her life.
Her heart pounded furiously, and while she told herself that was because she had yet to call her agent and tell her about yesterday’s disaster on the set, deep down, she knew Marcus was the one who had caused the reaction. After all this time, one look at him and her heart had gone into overdrive.
It wasn’t that she wanted him. But maybe the fact that he looked so good—even better—after all this time made it easier to remember the feelings she’d once had for him.
Or perhaps it was feelings of guilt. She could see
the hurt and a hint of anger in his eyes when he’d looked at her. He didn’t understand why she’d cut him out of her life.
It wasn’t that she’d forgotten him, though for her sanity she’d known she should. She just hadn’t been able to remain friends with him while he was married to Tanisha. What was she supposed to do, call his matrimonial home and ask Tanisha if she could speak with Marcus? And even if she could bear hearing his wife’s voice, she wasn’t sure she could bear it if Tanisha told her to go to hell, or that Marcus didn’t need her anymore.
Bottom line, Alice hadn’t been able to deal with the fact that Marcus had married Tanisha. Plain and simple. It had been easier to stay away and mend her broken heart.
Alice’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud music, and her gaze flew to the rearview mirror. Behind her, a car approached at an extremely fast speed. As it gained on her, the convertible veered into the left-hand lane and sped up alongside her. She glanced to her left. The Jaguar carried a group of young black males, who, when they saw her, tooted the horn, howled, and waved. Grateful for the diversion from her thoughts and flattered by their attention, Alice flashed them a smile, then turned her attention back to the road. But as the catcalls continued, she looked back at them. One of the men literally hung out of the car gesturing toward her, trying to get her to pull over.
Alice wasn’t about to do that, but she was smart enough not to offend them. So with a shrug and a smile and a gesture to her watch, she told them without words that she couldn’t stop. The driver
pouted and the front seat passenger blew her a kiss before their Jag accelerated and left her in the dust.
Alice shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. Funny how life was. Now that she was attractive enough to get the attention of most men, she didn’t care if she had it. Sure, she appreciated a respectful smile or a wave or even a cheap pickup line—
if
the men were harmless. Once, she’d thought that being beautiful would solve all her problems. The truth was, being beautiful had brought its own set of headaches, including countless sexual propositions in Tinseltown from young men and men old enough to be her great-grandfather. She’d had to prove herself more than an average-looking or older woman would because people tended to assume she’d been hired for her looks, not her talent. And there were so many times she’d been sent in for bimbo roles that she’d lost count.
The irony of her reversed situation didn’t escape her.
Alice glanced at the Chicago skyline as she drove, once again contemplating the circumstances that had brought her home. With chagrin, she realized that driving around all day wouldn’t make the issues she had to deal with disappear.
If she was going to stay in Chicago, she might as well find a hotel for now and get settled. And though she was dreading it, she had to call her agent about what had happened yesterday.
And finally, the greatest challenge of all: She had to head back to Cook County Hospital and face her mother.
Alice turned left after entering the hotel lobby and walked several feet with her small suitcase to a less crowded area where she could use her cell phone. She’d left her rented BMW with the valet, then fought to hold on to her luggage when the bell captain offered to tag her suitcase and have it brought directly to her room upon check-in.
“No,” Alice had said. Yes, she’d come this far, but as she’d pulled up to the entrance of the Sheraton Hotel, she suddenly hadn’t been sure she should check in.
On the drive here, she’d made up her mind that this was the right thing to do. The hotel was closer to the hospital than her mother’s house was; she could get to her mother quicker if anything drastic happened. But now that she was here, she realized that she could reason all she wanted, she simply didn’t want to go back to the house where she had grown up.
The house her mother had told her never to return to.
Until now, she’d never thought she would return. She’d heeded her mother’s command and had
planned to do so forever. Thirteen years ago on a gray day, she’d walked away from her home and the family that didn’t love her, and had moved on with her life. But now…
Now, checking into a hotel seemed like running away from her problems. If she was here, and if she was here for her mother, then she should go to her house. Certainly it wouldn’t kill her.
But for right now, she used her cell phone to call her agent in Los Angeles.
“Come on, Connie. Pick up.”
“Connie Frum.”
Alice gripped the phone. “Connie, hi. It’s me.”
“Alice, I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday. I keep getting the voice mail on your cell phone.”
“I know. I meant to call sooner.”
“What on earth happened?”
Alice’s shoulders drooped and she leaned her back against the wall for support. “My mother’s in the hospital. She had a heart attack.” Connie didn’t speak, waiting for her to continue. “I asked Sebastian for some time off the film, and he…he came on to me. Connie, he cornered me in his trailer and tried to get in my pants. Forcefully.” Remembering the whole incident made her cringe. “I kneed him in the groin and walked off the set.”
“Damn,” Connie muttered. “I guess there’s nothing I can do to smooth this over.”
“No. I’m not going back.” The ugly scene played out in her mind—Sebastian naked from the waist down and doubled over in pain, screaming expletives at her. Even as she’d walked out the trailer door, he made sure to tell her that she’d never work
for him again—as if she’d ever want to. Alice loved acting, but she wasn’t about to compromise herself for anyone. She’d worked too hard over the past thirteen years for that.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother,” Connie said after a moment. “How is she?”
“She’s in surgery right now. She’s expected to survive, but it’ll be weeks before she fully recovers.” Alice couldn’t help thinking of her father, how he hadn’t been as lucky as her mother. He’d had a heart attack while driving, and had spun into oncoming traffic. The accident had killed him.
“When will you be back?”
“I don’t know. Maybe next week. Or the week after. I’m not sure.”
“Edmond Minter sent a script for you. It arrived yesterday. Get this—he wants you for the lead female in a big-budget action feature, starring opposite
Ryan Gray
. He said you’re the only one he has in mind for the role.”
“You’re kidding!” Alice’s heart leapt at the news, excitement washing over her. Edmond was a well-respected producer and director for whom Alice had worked twice before. And Ryan Gray was one of the hottest box-office draws in Hollywood—
white
box-office draws. To have a chance to work with him could take her career to an even higher level.
“I kid you not.” Alice could hear the ear-to-ear smile in Connie’s voice.
As quickly as it had come, the excitement fizzled. How could she even consider the role when her mother was so sick? “I don’t know when I’ll have a chance to look at it.”
“They’re only in preproduction now, with plans to shoot in the fall or winter.”
That was several months away. Her mother would be better by then.
“I don’t have to tell you what a role like this could mean for your career.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Where will you be staying?”
Again, Alice considered whether she should stay here at the Sheraton or at her mother’s house. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Let me know as soon as you’ve settled. I know you’re dealing with a lot right now, but I can send you a copy of the script as soon as you’re ready.”
“Sure.” Connie was a typical Hollywood agent—shrewd, but considerate at the same time. She’d give Alice some space now, but she didn’t want her client to lose out on such a wonderful career opportunity.
“Look, Connie. About Sebastian—”
“Don’t worry about it. He’s lucky we don’t slap his ass with a harassment suit.”
“Thanks.” Walking off the set meant Alice had forfeited her pay, and right now, she had no desire to fight for it on the grounds that Sebastian was a sexist pig. Connie could be more upset, but she was no doubt seeing dollar signs with the Edmond Minter offer.
“Call me as soon as you’re settled.”
“I will.”
Alice hung up, closed her eyes, and dropped her head forward. So much to think about. Too much.
But right now, she had to get back to the hospital. She couldn’t put off seeing her mother forever.
Rosa Watson was out of surgery and sleeping in ICU when Alice returned to the hospital a few hours later. Marie sat in a chair by her side, holding one of her hands and talking softly to her. Alice couldn’t hear what she was saying. When Alice stepped further into the room, Marie noticed her and quickly rose.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“What is it?” Panic spread through her body, like flames burning her flesh. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Marie quickly clarified, realizing Alice had misread her statement. “The doctor said the surgery was a success, but Mama will probably sleep through the night. She’s definitely gonna need to take it easy for the next several weeks, as well as take all kinds of medication. But you know Mama. She’ll probably fight us on this all the way.”
No,
Alice thought,
I didn’t know Mama. Not really.
Thirteen years had passed since they’d last spoken. What did she know of her anymore? What had she ever known about her?
“Anyway, I don’t want to leave her, but it’s almost three and I have to pick up Mia. I already called the school and she’s gonna wait for me. So will you stay with Mama?”
“Are you coming back?”
“I couldn’t reach Chad, and right now, I don’t think there’s any point in bringing Mia here yet. That’s why I want you to stay. I know visiting hours are limited in ICU, which means you’ll have to spend a lot of time in the waiting room, but it’s comfortable—”
“You want me to stay the night?” Alice asked, surprised.
“I think one of us should. In case something happens.”
Alice’s gaze rested on her mother, who was sleeping. She certainly couldn’t hurt her in this state. And Marie was right; if their mother took a turn for the worst, one of them should be by her side.
“All right…I’ll stay.”
“And if Mama wakes up, at least one of us will be here.”
“Marie, do you think she’ll want to see me?”
“She’s your mother,” was all Marie said.
Alice settled in the chair beside her mother’s bed after Marie left. The years hadn’t been good to her mother. Her narrow face was drawn, old. Her black hair had thinned and was now filled with several gray strands. She looked nothing like the headstrong matriarch of the Watson family who had told Alice to leave and never return that June day almost thirteen years ago.
Sitting here, watching the rise and fall of her mother’s chest, listening to the constant beep of the heart monitor, didn’t seem real. Alice’s mind kept imagining this as a scene in a movie, where her mother would wake up, see her and immediately try to make amends for all that had gone wrong in their relationship. But this wasn’t a movie. In reality, Alice held no delusions that the scene would be anything like that when her mother finally woke up.
Though she’d once told herself to harden her heart, to forget that her mother didn’t love her, or at least didn’t love her enough, a part of her heart ached as she regarded her mother now. The part
that wished they could have had a normal, loving mother-daughter relationship. The part of her that was still a dreamer and still believed in happy endings, even though a happy ending had eluded her in her own life.
As far back as Alice could remember, her mother had been cold and distant toward her. Mostly, Rosa hadn’t seemed to understand nor have patience for Alice’s numerous questions that stemmed from her endless curiosity. Questions like “Mama, what if when we dream, we’re really visiting different places? I mean,
really
?” Her mother would roll her eyes and ignore her or tell her that she was too much of a dreamer, like being a dreamer was the worst thing in the world. Which, in turn, left Alice feeling like something was wrong with her. But those questions were so much a part of her, and over the years, Alice had realized that if her mother shunned her curious nature, she was shunning her. Her questions had fueled her creative mind, which had fueled her dream to be an actress, a dream her mother had balked at from the first moment Alice had told her that’s what she wanted to do, when she was merely eight years old.
Alice extended her hand, let it hover over her mother’s for several seconds, then finally returned it to her side. The ache to touch her mother surprised her, especially considering the last conversation they had ever had…
“Because you
had
to take those acting classes, your father is dead. Now you’re going to abandon me. I hope you’re happy.”
Anger washed over Alice. Implicitly blaming her for her father’s death was the final straw. Now more
than ever she knew she had to get away. Her mother didn’t understand her, didn’t love her. For a while, Alice had blamed herself for her father’s death as well, but that was because her mother had drummed that blame into her head with endless talk of how her father could have survived his heart attack if he hadn’t gotten into a car wreck. Now, Alice knew better. It wasn’t her fault that her father had had a heart attack while en route to pick her up from her acting class.
“I’m going, Mama. It’s all arranged.”
“Is that so? Where will you stay?”
“Aunt Sara said I could stay with her.”
“My God.” Surprise flashed in Rosa’s eyes, and maybe even a hint of pain. “You’re gonna stay with her?”
Alice knew that her mother hated her sister-in-law, but she couldn’t understand why. But it wasn’t only Aunt Sara she had a problem with; when Uncle Winston was alive, her husband’s brother, she’d never seemed to like him, either. Whenever Uncle Winston and Aunt Sara had come to visit from Los Angeles, Rosa had always been cold toward them. If everyone was in the living room, Rosa was in the kitchen. When they all sat together for dinner, Rosa barely looked at Uncle Winston and Aunt Sara, let alone said more than two words to them. And when Uncle Winston spoke about his various roles in films and commercials, Rosa never said a word, but Alice could tell by her eyes and body language that she was angry.
Was that where Rosa’s animosity toward Aunt Sara stemmed from? Because Aunt Sara had supported Uncle Winston’s career in Hollywood? And
if so, why did her mother think that acting was the worst career in the world?
“Yes, I’m staying with Aunt Sara. She’s happy I’m going for my dream and said she’d welcome me with open arms.”
Alice had hoped her last comment would draw a reaction from her mother—guilt, pain, something—but she remained as cold and unfeeling as ever. Instead, she said, “If you leave this house and go to L.A., Alice, don’t come back. You hear me? I’m wiping my hands of you.”
Alice fought with all her might not to cry. She had to be strong, accept the fact that her mother didn’t love her and get on with her life.
Even if it was the hardest thing she’d ever have to do.
“Mama—”
“I’m serious, Alice.”
With that, her mother turned and stalked out of Alice’s bedroom. And at that moment, Alice knew there was no point in staying in Chicago and trying to win her mother’s love and support. It would never happen. That night, she packed her bags. The next day, she would leave Chicago, never to return.
Not even Marie offered any sympathy after Alice told her what happened. Instead, she said, “I don’t know what happened to you. Maybe Dad’s death made you crazy.”
“I’m leaving, Marie. Are you gonna say good-bye or not?”
Marie frowned as she stepped toward Alice in the foyer. She gave her sister a brief, stilted hug. “I hope
what you’re looking for is worth what you’re doing to this family.”
Then Alice left, determined to prove to them that she could make her dream come true…
Alice’s mind drifted back to the present, where she found she was squeezing her eyes closed so tightly her head hurt.
But not even physical pain could erase the painful memories of the past.
Alice was in a state between full consciousness and total sleep, her body powerless to move while her mind was active.
She recognized immediately that she was dreaming, yet she couldn’t pull herself out of it. It was a dream she had had several times over the past thirteen years. In the dream, she was sitting cross-legged in a garden, surrounded by thousands of different flowers in a dazzling array of colors. It was a gorgeous day, so the fact that she was crying always startled her at first. Then, out of nowhere, her mother appeared and walked toward her, extending a hand. And she said, “Alice, I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
The voice in her dream sounded so real that it jolted Alice awake. For a moment, the bright sunlight streaming through the window blinded her and she didn’t recognize her surroundings. Where was she? The next instant, her eyes flew to the right as she remembered she was in the hospital.
To her surprise, she found her arm stretched
across the side of her mother’s bed, her hand clutched in her mother’s. Alice sat upright, realizing this wasn’t a dream.