Impossible (30 page)

The line dancers came back on then, he leaped up to the dance floor and grabbed one of them, the youngest and the prettiest of course, and proceeded to do a sexy dancing act on the dance floor, while the girl he was dancing with got into it and unzipped his jeans. They did nothing more exotic after that, but that was enough for Sasha. She could see the looks of amusement and disapproval all around her, and when he walked back to her afterward, he zipped up his jeans, kissed her hard on the mouth in front of everyone, and grabbed her bottom in both hands, which left nothing to anyone's imagination as to what their relationship was. She had introduced him prior to that as one of her artists visiting from London.

“What's the matter, baby?” he asked her, looking bleary and slurring his words. She was ready to kill him, and all she wanted to do was leave. It hadn't been lost on her that the girl he'd been dancing with looked like she was in her teens, and was probably no more than twenty, younger than her daughter.

“I want to go home, Liam,” she said quietly. She didn't want to lose her temper with him, but she didn't want to stay either. He was out of control, and getting worse by the minute. He ordered a screwdriver then, and she took it away from the waiter when it came.

“What are you doing?” he asked her, trying to grab for it. But sensing what was happening, the waiter just put it back on the tray and disappeared.

“You've had a lot to drink already. I think it's time to go home.”

“You can't tell me what to do,” he said, lurching as he stood before her. He nearly fell into her arms, and then tried to get amorous again. She gave him a quelling look, but there was obviously no getting him to leave. He was having a ball. “I'm not your child,” he said, as he put an arm around her shoulders.

“Then don't act like one,” she said in an undertone.

He was behaving like a juvenile delinquent, or at the very least, a drunk.

“You can't control me,” he repeated, and she nodded, as people continued to glance at them and then look away. She heard one man comment that Liam was going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, while another laughed. She knew them both. They were friends of Arthur's, which didn't help.

“Liam, I'm tired, I want to go home,” she said, pleading with him.

“Then take a nap. You can wait in the car. I want to party. I'm having a hell of a good time.” He lurched forward again and, much to her horror, disappeared into the crowd. She found him again, sitting astride the horse they were using to pull the hayride. The horse was getting skittish, and the handler was asking him to get off, to no avail. He had completely stopped the ride, as people around them watched. It finally took three men from the catering staff and the host to get him off. He had been shouting “Yippee-kie-yay!!!” while kicking the horse. She wanted to kill him.

Their host helped her get him back to the car. He passed out in the front seat, and she drove him home. She couldn't wake him up when they got there, and she left him to sleep it off in her car. She felt him slip into bed with her at seven o'clock the next morning. When she got up at nine, he was dead to the world. He didn't come downstairs till noon, wearing dark glasses and complaining about how bright the sun was. She said nothing as she sat in the kitchen and read the paper, while he poured himself a much-needed cup of coffee. He came to sit down next to her a few minutes later, and she finally looked up and said good morning. Her tone was like ice.

“That was quite a party last night,” he said, trying to sound casual as she stared at him. “I guess I had a lot to drink, judging by the size of my hangover today.” He laughed. She didn't.

“Yes, you did” was all she said.

“How bad was it?” he asked cautiously. He didn't remember a great deal about the night before. She did.

“Very bad,” she answered, listing his exploits. Among them, she mentioned his grabbing her behind, which had blown their cover forever among her acquaintances and friends. “My favorite, of course, was the incident with the horse. You looked absolutely charming, scaring the horse and the children, playing cowboy and shouting 'Yippee-kie-yay.' I think everyone from here to Chicago heard you.” She was not amused, nor was he. He didn't want to be treated like a child, or scolded by her. He was an adult, and could behave any way he wanted, or so he said. He told Sasha he'd been behaving sensibly for a long time. He needed to let some steam off.

“I told you, Sasha. You can't control me. My family tried to, and I'm not going to let you do that to me. Everyone needs to let their hair down sometimes. So fucking what if I did?” He was being extremely defensive, and felt like shit.

“You embarrassed me,” she said, looking at him. He had started to push the dial toward impossible again, and it had been going so well. She was willing to stand up beside him, and go out into the world with him, even her world, but not if he behaved like this, and claimed rights of total freedom just because he was an artist. If he didn't want to be controlled, then he had to learn to police himself. “I'm not going to go out with you if you act that way,” she said sadly, even more upset about it because he wasn't in the least remorseful.

“Then don't,” Liam said, sounding belligerent. “You sound just like my father, and I'm not going to take that shit from you. You can't punish me and leave me home because I have a few drinks at a party.”

“You had a few dozen drinks, and you saw to it that everyone in the place who cared to watch knew that we're involved with each other.”

“I'm tired of keeping it a secret.” It had become less and less of a secret during the month they'd been in New York. Bernard knew before that. Marcie knew. Tatianna knew. Xavier knew. And God only knew who else suspected. As long as he behaved, she was willing to come out of the closet with him eventually, but not if he acted like that.

“Then act like a grown-up, and it won't have to be a secret.”

“If you loved me, you wouldn't want to keep this a secret.” He sounded like a wounded child, which was how he felt. He wanted her approval, and for her to be proud of him, not ashamed.

“I do love you, but I'm not going to let you make a spectacle of me. It's tough enough with our difference in age. I need time to get used to that. You seem to need time to grow up.”

“For chrissake, Sasha, nine years is nothing. Give that one up. I am grown up. I'm an artist, and a free spirit. I'm not going to be trained like some circus dog, so you can impress your friends and appease your daughter. Either you love me as I am, or you don't.”

“Is that what this is about? Tatianna? Liam, she needs time to settle down. This was a huge shock for her. She thinks I betrayed her father. She adored him. This was a tremendous blow for her. And your acting like a savage at parties is not going to help convince anyone that this is a viable relationship, least of all me.” He didn't say a word to her, just strode out of the kitchen and slammed the door. She saw him from the living-room windows, walking down the beach. They were both upset. The night before had been awful. The worst part was, they were both going back to Europe the next day, she to Paris and he to London. They had no time left to bridge the gap and repair the damage if they got into an argument on their last day.

He was still sulking when they drove back to town that night. And when she offered to cook him dinner, he said he wasn't hungry. After all he'd had to drink the night before, she suspected he probably wasn't. She cooked him some pasta anyway, and as they sat at the table together, he finally started to relax.

“I'm sorry I acted like an ass last night. It was stupid. I don't know, I'm not used to all these responsibilities and restrictions. I don't want to have to act a certain way to get your approval and everyone else's. I just want to be me, and have you love me the way I am. Hell, Sasha, sometimes I just want to go have a beer with the doorman. He seems like a nice guy.”

“I'm sure he is. I'm sorry my life feels so restrictive to you.” She looked sad about it. It was the kind of thing she had been worried about from the beginning, with his phobia about being “controlled.” Any kind of expectations or civilized behavior felt like control to him. But that was what her life was all about. She couldn't do whatever she wanted. And if he was with her, neither could he. He was finding it very hard to live with, just as she had feared. Maybe this wasn't possible after all. “I don't know what to say, Liam. I don't want to make you unhappy. But you can't go crazy anytime you want.” Fortunately, it had been the only time it happened, but it was a biggie. For both of them. He had been trying to prove a point. Or just lost control, big time.

“What happens when we go back?” he asked, looking worried. He didn't want to lose her because of the way he had behaved the night before. But he didn't want her telling him how to act either. He wanted her unconditional love and acceptance, and said so. But sometimes that was hard to give between adults, particularly if doing so cost too much. And in her opinion, it did. It was a dilemma for both of them, a serious one. In order to prove her love for him, she had to put herself at risk. If it didn't work out between them in the end, people would laugh at her forever, or so she thought. That bothered her a lot. She wanted to stay discreet until they figured it out. The restrictions that put on him were driving him nuts, and injuring his already damaged self-esteem. If they stayed together, he wanted to know he had the freedom to be himself. All she wanted from him was to grow up. It was the one thing he didn't want to do and never had. And underlying all of it was her concern about her daughter's reaction to him. Undeniably, Tatianna and Liam were off to a bad start.

“I'm going to be working in Paris for the rest of July,” she said, in answer to his question about when they went back. “You can come over whenever you want. I leave with the kids on August first.”

“And then what?” he asked, and she looked blank, she didn't know what he meant.

“What happens when you leave with the kids?”

“I told you. We're going to St. Tropez, and I've chartered a boat. I'll be gone for three weeks. We can go somewhere after that, if you want. I have to be back in New York for a week or so in September. You can come then too, if you like. But you should probably be getting ready for your show.” She sounded like his mother and his dealer, it was the position he put her in sometimes, instead of just the woman he loved, and who loved him.

“What about when you're with the kids? Am I welcome there, too?” he asked, looking both hurt and belligerent again. They had talked about his joining them on the boat for a few days of the trip, especially since Xavier would be there too, and Liam could masquerade as just his friend, or could have, but not now. All of that was before Tatianna had walked in on them naked in Southampton, and all hell broke loose. Now both her children knew who he was, and his role in her life.

“Liam, after what happened with Tatianna, you can't expect to come with us. That's going to take time to calm down.” Sasha still hadn't spoken to her herself. Tatianna was still refusing to take or return her calls, and Sasha had finally sent her a note, hoping to make peace with her. She had heard nothing from her yet. As far as Sasha knew, the war was still on. And Xavier knew nothing different. Sasha had spoken to him several times. He still thought Tatianna would calm down, but she hadn't yet. He said she was being juvenile and stubborn, and had accused her of being a brat. So now she was angry at him too.

“Maybe you need to stand up to her, and tell her the lay of the land,” Liam said, looking annoyed. He was furious with Sasha's daughter, and she didn't blame him. But she didn't want to risk a permanent rift with her daughter over him.

“I need to talk to her first, before I can explain anything to her.”

“And will you do that? Are you willing to stand up for me, or are you just going to let her kick me around, while you kiss her ass?”

“Liam, that's not fair,” Sasha said, with tears stinging her eyes. “She's my daughter. I'm not willing to lose her over this, even for you. I need to make peace with her first. And we need to see how this works out. If it does, I'll deal with her. But nothing is sure yet.” He knew it himself, but didn't want to admit it to her.

“How long do you expect me to audition for you?” he said, as he stood up and looked down at her, and she looked up at him.

“You're not auditioning. We're trying to see if this can work. There are a lot of differences between us. It's not an obvious fit.”

“I thought it was,” he said, and then walked out of the kitchen. He packed his things in the guest room, while she was packing hers. She wondered if he would sleep with her that night, and was relieved when he did. They didn't make love, they just held each other. Sasha fell asleep, and Liam lay awake most of the night, staring up at the ceiling with a look of grief. It broke his heart that she wasn't willing to stand up for him, or defend him to Tatianna. He had promised her in April that he would keep their affair a secret, for a while anyway. But when he did, he had had no idea how much doing so would hurt him. As he lay in bed that night thinking about all of it, his agony was acute.

Chapter 16

Sasha and Liam flew back
to Europe separately, she to Paris, he to London. They got back at roughly the same time, and she called him that night. He sounded distant. They talked for a little while, and he promised to come to Paris that weekend. She wondered if he would. He sounded unhappy with her now. Tatianna had hurt him, and the relationship, badly. She had also hurt her mother. But Sasha was not willing to wage war on her for Liam. Tatianna was her daughter, and had a birthright to the unconditional love he wanted from her. Liam didn't.

He had dinner with Xavier that week, and discussed it with him, but Xavier had had an easier childhood and youth than he had. He had had wonderful parents who he knew loved him. Liam didn't, and had the scars to prove it. They were costing Sasha now, just as whatever she had suffered in her youth inevitably cost him. Their differences in age and lifestyle didn't help either. Sasha was back to wondering again if their love affair was possible. She wanted it to be, but not if she had to ally with him against her daughter. For her, that was too high a price to pay for loving him.