Authors: Val Tobin
The Saturday shoot rescheduled to the Monday shoot as the
search for a new partner for Dani got underway, and the script was rewritten.
Cope took an early day on Saturday since Dani didn’t have to go to the studio.
He’d arranged to pick her up in the late afternoon and had told her to wear
casual clothes—shorts and a T-shirt and flip-flops or sneakers.
Unable to contain her excitement, Dani took longer to dress
for this casual date than she’d taken for the fanciest date she’d ever had. She
settled on denim capris, a white, midriff-baring tank top, and canvas sneakers.
Neutral makeup and a tousled hairstyle enhanced her almond
eyes and highlighted her cheekbones. When Dani verified the effect in the
mirror, the results pleased her. She was doubly pleased when Cope expressed
appreciation of her efforts with kisses and touches.
Forty minutes into the drive, the route became disturbingly
familiar.
“Are we headed to your parents’ place?” Dani tried to keep
the anxiety out of her voice and thought she’d succeeded.
“Okay,
ya
got me. That’s where
we’re going, but not to visit them. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it to
myself for too long. The beach on my parents’ property is a great place for a
picnic. I figured that still counts as ‘going out,’ but we won’t get swamped by
paparazzi or fans.”
Eyes wide, Dani clapped her hands and bounced in her seat
like a kid.
Cope turned to watch her and smiled. “You’re so cute.”
Dani laughed, loud and delighted. “I can’t recall when I’ve
been this excited to go on a date. What a wonderful idea.”
The car pulled off the highway, and Cope followed the route
to the cliffs. Dani now considered that beach the location of their first
unofficial date. She shuddered at the memory of how that had ended. One day,
Dani supposed, she’d look back on it and laugh, but that day hadn’t arrived.
Twenty minutes later, the car sat parked at the head of the
trail, their cell phones turned to silent and tucked away. They sat on a large
blanket on the sand amidst a spread of crusty breads; tapenade; a variety of
cheeses; a container with a mixture of greens, sliced fresh tomatoes sprinkled
with basil; pickles; chopped vegetables; and fruit.
“You’re amazing.” Dani beamed at Cope, picked up a glass of
sparkling peach juice, and sipped, appreciating the change from plain mineral
water.
“You inspire me, Daniella. I love that radiant smile on your
face, and I’ll do anything to make it appear. It’s fun to think of things
that’ll make you forget everything but us.”
Touched, she raised the glass in
salud
, and Cope picked up his own
goblet and clinked it to hers. “To us.”
They ate, enjoying the sunshine, the food, and each other.
The ocean lent a romantic ambience. After the meal, Cope packed up the basket,
removed his and Dani’s shoes, and pulled her up for a walk in the surf.
“So cliché, isn’t it?” he said. “A walk along the beach.
We’ll milk it and stay until sunset. Today, we won’t be interrupted. Cell
phones are off and no one can comment on it.”
“John doesn’t worry anymore when I’m with you.”
“Does he know you’re with me now?”
A wave crashed against her legs, splashing her thighs, and
Dani backed out to shallower water, laughing. She pulled Cope after her and put
her arm around his waist. “Yes. I tell him when I go out if I’m not taking the limo
and the bodyguard. I could resent it, but it’s because he cares, and I can’t
fault him for that.”
Cope nodded. “I can’t be with you twenty-four-seven so I
feel better knowing he’s watching out for you too.”
On tiptoe, Dani turned to Cope, clasped her hands behind his
neck, and kissed him, a deep, sensuous, soul-baring kiss. “Let’s go back to the
blanket.”
Cope reached up a hand and fisted it in her hair. “What do
you have in mind?” His voice verged on a growl.
Before she could answer, his arms encircled her, and his
mouth covered hers, devouring. Across the ocean, the sun hovered near the
horizon. The scent of fish, moss, and salt spray wafted up with every breeze.
Dani’s hair floated around their heads like seaweed.
Cope disconnected, put a finger under Dani’s chin, and
kissed her nose. “I brought dessert and tea. If it gets chilly, there’s an
extra blanket to snuggle under.” He wiggled his brows and licked his lips.
“It’ll be cozy and private.”
Energized by love for Cope, Dani threw her arms around him
and kissed his cheek. “I’ll race you back.” She released him and tore off along
the shore, kicking up clods of sand and splashes of water as she flew toward
their nest.
Behind her, Cope shouted, “No fair—you had a head start.” He
chased after her.
When Dani reached the blanket, she fell onto it, then rolled
on her back and waited for him to catch up.
He dropped beside her, then rolled on top of her, kissing
her and stroking her as if he couldn’t get enough physical contact.
“Wait.” Dani pulled away, laughing, and grabbed her bag. She
took out her cell phone and switched to camera mode. “Selfie! Lean in, Cope.”
Cope laughed and pressed his face against hers, the tiny
stubbles on his cheek and chin tickling her skin. The phone wobbled as she
adjusted the position, and then she took three photos. “This one’s perfect.”
She showed him the picture. “I’ll send it to you.”
Dani switched off the phone, stuck it back in her purse, and
then turned her attention back to her beautiful guy. Afraid she’d say the “L”
word if she didn’t do something fast, Dani pulled Cope’s head down and kissed
him. The urge to say she loved him became overwhelming, but she feared it was
too soon. What if he didn’t feel the same way?
“Cope?” She hadn’t intended to speak. That had just popped out.
“I love today. Thanks for doing all this.” There. That wasn’t a lie, but missed
the mark from what she wanted to say. Dani couldn’t stop smiling and thought
she’d look back on this afternoon as one of the most perfect in her life. Yes,
she’d been through more trauma, but Cope’s romantic gesture had erased all
worries for a few hours and made her feel loved. She really did love this day.
***
Monday morning, the filming got underway just after sunrise.
The cast and crew tiptoed around Dani, more polite and solicitous than usual,
which made it difficult for her to focus.
Kind of them to consider her feelings, but it was hard
enough to continue with the film without others’ behavior highlighting that
everything was uncomfortable.
“I saw your new boyfriend in the tabloids, Miss Grayson,”
Trina said. At least Trina still acted normal around her, still chatted away as
if life could continue no matter what had happened.
Dani wanted to smile, but forced herself to hold still while
Sandra, a makeup artist, worked on her face. Trina fiddled with Dani’s outfit,
a designer suit which adorned a dressmaker’s dummy, preparing it for the next
scene. “He’s hot.
The Tattletale
had
a whole article on how Robert Copeland rescued you at that restaurant on
Friday.”
Forcing her eyebrows to stay still, Dani attempted to speak
with minimal lip movement. “That was fast.” It came out as “at
uz
as,” but Trina apparently could translate, because she
replied with “Yeah, pictures and everything. They must have rushed it through.”
Unable to help it, Dani smiled, with the unfortunate timing
of doing it just as Sandra touched the lip liner to Dani’s upper lip.
“Oops. Well, we’ll fix that.” Sandra set the lip pencil on
the table and snatched up a cotton pad with makeup remover on it.
“Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No harm, Miss Grayson. I’ll just clean it off, and we’ll
start again.”
Dani stayed silent this time, lips slightly parted, and
Sandra continued her work.
Happy to have a captive audience, Trina continued to chat.
“Those clips of you two coming out of the restaurant looked gorgeous, and what
a kiss. Saw that on the entertainment news. I guess Mr. Copeland knows what
it’s like to be followed around by the paparazzi now. I hear women are chasing
him. You’d think they’d understand he’s taken.”
Trina’s words, innocent enough, caused a sinking sensation
in Dani’s stomach. Women were stalking Cope, pestering him, and maybe throwing
themselves at him. Dani realized she was speculating, but Trina was right—Cope
was hot. A feeling of being unworthy seeped into her.
Stop it. Cope wants to be with you and no one else.
Yes, but for how long—especially if reporters and groupies
made it difficult for him to go about his daily routine? Even after two years
of it, Dani still wasn’t used to having her every move monitored by the public,
but it went with the career she’d chosen.
She’d understood from the start that if she succeeded in
film, her life would be under a klieg light. But Cope was a businessman, not an
entertainer. He might not tolerate the intrusion, and sooner or later, he might
decide he’d had enough.
***
Patrick
Mullaly
, Felicity
Sanderson’s new partner, stroked Dani’s cheek. “We all miss Charles. We must
learn to carry on without him. He’d want you to be happy, Felicity. Whatever
you need, I’m here for you.”
Dani clasped the hand and held it for a moment, then
released it. She turned on her heel and moved away from Patrick, a tall, lanky
man whose real name was Mike Erwin. Dani hung her head, allowing a tear to drip
down her cheek. “How will I live without him? Charles was my life.”
“Felicity, you’re grief-stricken, and that’s understandable,
but you’re getting careless. Charles would have my head if he saw you do the
shit you’ve been doing. You’re risking your neck because you’re so hell-bent on
catching the bastard who killed him. But if you don’t take care, that maniac
will catch you first.”
“I’m not being careless, Mike. Pat. Oh, shit, sorry.”
“Cut.” Ferguson waved his hand, and the cameras stopped
rolling.
“I’m sorry, Pat.” Dani smiled at Mike, who mock punched her
shoulder.
“It’s okay,
shweetheart
.”
Dani laughed. “Is that supposed to be Bogie?”
“What if it is?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not old
enough to remember Bogie.”
“Neither are you. You’re only twelve years older than I am.
I know my film history, and I’ve watched his films.
Casablanca.
Love it.”
“Okay, you two. I’m thrilled you’re getting along, but can
we get this rolling? We’ve already lost over two days.” Ferguson paused, shot
Dani an apologetic glance, and asked them to start from the top.
It took a dozen takes to get the scene right, and Dani
relaxed as the day continued. Mike was a pleasure to work with, and she
realized that, in the past, she’d have fallen hard for him. He was married,
though, and gave Dani the impression he was faithful to his wife of five years,
who was pregnant with their first child.
On their lunch break, Dani asked him about it. The two sat
in Mike’s dressing room, Dani sipping on a mug of broth and picking at a salad,
Mike eating a burger and fries.
“How has your fame affected your marriage? Is it hard on
your wife?”
“Not terribly. She sometimes gets followed around by
reporters if I’m doing a picture that’s made the news. This one will give her
more of that than any of the others I’ve done. She takes it in stride.”
“It might be more of a problem when the baby’s born, don’t
you think?” Dani shuddered at the thought of reporters following her around if
she had a new baby. She’d be so worried about the crush of people, the mics,
and the constant invasion of privacy.
“I guess. We’ll hire a bodyguard if it gets worse.”
“Talk to my boyfriend, Cope. He’s starting up a limo service
that will offer drivers who double as bodyguards.”
Mike dragged a French fry through a puddle of ketchup and
stuck it in his mouth. “Leave me his contact info and I’ll call him. I saw the
footage of you getting mobbed at the restaurant. You could’ve used a bodyguard
yourself then.”
Dani finished chewing a bite of lettuce. “You sound like
Cope. He’s got someone for me. The guy seems nice though he doesn’t laugh much.
What will your wife say about a bodyguard following her around?”
“If it protects our baby, she’ll be on board with it.”
Dani considered. “I guess when you have a baby, you’ll do
anything to protect it.” As the implications of what she’d just said sunk in,
Dani’s mouth twisted. That had never been the case with her own mother.
A longing for a normal, caring mother swept over her. What
would it be like to experience unconditional love? The possibility existed that
with Cope, she’d discovered the answer, if she could just manage not to ruin
it.
After filming wrapped for the day, Dani arrived home,
showered off the heavy makeup and her character, and threw on a pair of jeans
and a T-shirt. Feet bare and hair tied back in a ponytail, she padded out to
the kitchen to start dinner. While she set the ingredients for a veggie stir
fry on the counter, she let her mind wander back to the publicity Cope was
getting from their relationship.
Perhaps it wasn’t so bad and worked in his favor, giving the
limo business a boost. On the heels of that thought came the worry he’d have
multitudes of gorgeous women seeking his services.
Dani sighed. Infidelity had been a feature in her parents’
relationship. Even at five, she’d sensed the unusual way her mother had behaved
around other men, and the way other women had been around her father. She
didn’t think her dad had messed around. Dani frowned. Maybe she was making him
out to be a better person than he was because he was dead and her mother had
been so awful.
She picked up a zucchini and the chopping knife when a
buzzing caught her attention. Dropping everything onto the cutting board, she
went to grab the cell phone from her purse.
A glance at the call display showed Greg Henderson. Dani
scowled and let it go to voice-mail. When the beep sounded, she called the
service to retrieve the message.
“Dani, I’m sorry. Please, let me return to the film. Call
me, babe. Let’s talk about it.”
She stared at the phone, unsure what to do and tempted to
delete the message and forget about it. Finger poised to do just that, Dani
stopped. If she ignored him, would he show up at her apartment again? Not
wanting to take that chance, she punched in Henderson’s number.
“Baby, I’m s’ glad
ya
called.”
Slurred.
“What do you want, Greg?”
Heavy breathing flowed out of the receiver. Dani wrinkled
her nose in distaste and glanced at the clock—not even six yet and he was
already drunk. “Leave me alone. Get help for your drinking problem.”
“I don’t need help drinking. It’s not a problem.” A bray of
laughter. “I need help with my Dani problem. I’ve got a hard-on for you, babe,
and it’s making me ache. You’re giving me blue balls.
Wanna
see? I can be there in a minute.”
“Sleep it off and go join AA or see a therapist. I don’t
want you back on the set, and this behavior validates my decision. Damn it,
Greg, you raped me.”
“No, babe, you’re wrong. I thought you wanted to fuck, you
know, like before. It was a mistake.”
“That’s your story, then? You know damn well that’s not what
happened. Stay away from me and don’t call again, or I’ll press charges.” Dani
disconnected, hands shaking. She dropped to the couch, trying to compose
herself. Breath coming in shallow gasps, her whole body shook. A sob caught in
her throat. One phone call. It took one phone call from that bastard, and she
was unnerved beyond the ability to function.
A few minutes later, the doorbell chimed. Cope. Thank God.
Dani glanced at the clock. A few minutes early, too. Happy, she ran to the
door, unlocked it, and threw it open, realizing as the door swung toward her
she’d again opened it without checking the peephole.
“
Ack
, Cope, sorry I—”
It was as far as she got. Greg Henderson staggered inside,
pushing the door closed behind him as he shoved Dani aside.
“How’d you get into the building? Get out. Now.” Dani tried
not to let her voice quiver and failed.
Henderson advanced on her, and Dani staggered back a few
paces, almost reaching the coffee table in the living room. “I mean it, Greg.
Get out of here.”
“I just want to talk to you, babe. You hurt me. I need you.
I’ve always loved you. We should be together. I’m sorry for everything. Let me
fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix. I don’t want to be with you. We
have no relationship anymore. You killed it. Your drinking, your abuse, and
your womanizing destroyed what we had—which wasn’t anything healthy to begin
with.”
For a drunk, he moved quickly, landing in front of her,
oozing alcohol from every pore and wafting it out of his mouth into her
upturned face. Hands gripped Dani’s upper arms, and she struggled to push him
away, but he remained rooted. “Kiss me. You’ll see the spark’s still there. You
want me—I know you want me. That fucking boy you’re seeing isn’t man enough for
you.”
“You’re repeating yourself, Greg. Get out now!” The last bit
came out a scream of frustration. Dani twisted, struggled, but Henderson held
on tight, the pressure of his fingers on her arms squeezing until a sob of pain
escaped her lips. “Please. Let go. You’re hurting me.” For the first time, fear
entered her voice. She glanced at the clock again. Cope wasn’t due for another
ten minutes. “Please.” Whispered begging.
But he pulled her into the circle of his arms. Henderson’s
mouth covered Dani’s, probing, hungry, and breath sour with whatever he’d been
drinking. When he released one of her arms, she tried to push him away, but his
iron chest remained pressed to her. Something tore and Dani realized it was her
T-shirt.
“You little slut—not wearing a bra. For lover boy? You’re
mine, Dani. That fucking Copeland can settle for sloppy seconds.” Henderson’s
large hand moved to her exposed breasts while his other hand continued to grip
her arm.
Forced to the ground, his body crushing her, Dani’s fear
escalated to terror. Tears streamed from her eyes. “Please. Stop. You’re
hurting me. No! I don’t want to be raped again. Please.”
“Rape? You fucking slut. You stupid bitch.” Henderson held
her head motionless between his palms and spit in her face once and then again.
One hand fumbled with the button of her jeans while she struggled, choking on
sobs, the spittle smearing on her face.
“Tell me you want me, bitch. I know you want me. You’ll
scream for me now.”
Dani’s peripheral vision caught the swing of the door, and
then Cope was there, ripping Henderson off her.
“Call nine-one-one, Dani, now.” Cope dragged Henderson up by
the back of the shirt, whirled him around, and punched him in the face.
Dani crawled to her purse and grabbed the cell phone. She
made the call, forcing her fingers to press the right numbers and screaming at
the dispatcher to hurry, please hurry. The woman’s assurance that the police
were on the way pushed through the numbness. Dani dragged herself to the
intercom, ready to let the police into the building.
Henderson had hit the floor, but now struggled to get up,
and blood from his nose dripped onto her carpet.
“Don’t fucking move!” Cope screamed at him. “Sit there until
the cops get here. You won’t worm your way out of this one. She’s got an
honest-to-God witness now.”
Outside, sirens screamed. The police. In a haze, Dani buzzed
the cops into the building and then sat huddled on the floor while Cope ushered
them into the unit. Henderson made another move to get up, and this time, the
police dealt with him.
Cope rushed to Dani’s side, hugged her, and covered the top
of her head with kisses. “Okay, my beauty, we’ll clean you up. Let’s take a few
pictures first. We’ll need the evidence.” The last came out in a venomous punch
of air.
Dazed, Dani let Cope take the photos with his cell phone,
her hands fluttering over her breasts in an attempt to hide her nakedness. An
officer removed Henderson from the apartment while his partner asked Dani to
relate what had happened. The cop’s face was serious but kind, and he
introduced himself as Officer Bradley.
Cope put an arm around Dani and helped her settle on the
couch. “I’ll get a wet cloth to wipe your face and a clean shirt. I’ll be right
back, darling.”
Dani remained silent, arms still hugging her chest, but
nodded to let him know she was okay enough to let him go. The cop stood and
waited, back turned, while Cope helped her clean up and put on a shirt.
Curled up in the corner of the couch, Dani listened to Cope
describe the scene he’d stumbled onto when he’d arrived in Dani’s apartment.
The story made her cringe and brought tears to her eyes once more.
“Dani begged him to stop. He’d have raped her if I hadn’t
shown up right then,” Cope concluded.
The officer turned to Dani. “Have you had any alcohol, Miss
Grayson?”
“No.” To emphasize the point, Dani shook her head. “I don’t
drink when I’m in the middle of a film shoot. It harms my performance.”
“Okay. Tell me what happened.”
So she told him, reliving the horror of Henderson, who she’d
once loved and would’ve considered marrying, attacking her. How fucked up on
booze and drugs had she been to not recognize what a douche he was? At least
she’d come to her senses and backed out of the relationship.
Afraid that Cope would get mad at her, she admitted opening
the door without checking to see who was there. “I was expecting Cope—Robert.”
Dani turned to look at Cope, worried.
“It’s okay, honey.” Cope smiled encouragement and patted her
hand.
Reassured, she continued the story until the point where
Cope arrived and hauled Henderson away before he could rape her.
The interview over, Officer Bradley left Dani his card and
told her to call him if she remembered anything she wanted to add to the
statement. She thanked the officer, and when he left, she allowed herself to
collapse into Cope’s arms.
“Okay. It’s okay. I’m here. No one will hurt you now.”
Cope’s voice soothed her, permitted her to release more tears.
“I’m so sorry. I should have used the peephole.”
“Dani, you made a mistake. It’s too late now to worry about
what you should have done. Next time, check. Promise me? No matter how excited
you are I’ve arrived, please look out the peephole first?”
The weight of it eased a little at his kindness. “Yes, I
promise.”
Cope suggested she take a shower while he worked on dinner,
and, relieved that everything would be all right, Dani left the room. The TV
clicked as it powered on, and the drone of the television followed her down the
hall and into her bedroom.
The scent of flowery shampoo filled her nostrils, and Dani
scrubbed and lathered, the thought of Henderson’s saliva in her hair compelling
her to repeat the process three times. It turned out to be the longest shower
she’d had in her life. By the time she was clean, dried, and dressed in a
comfortable T-dress, the tension had left her.
Silence greeted Dani from the open bedroom door, and she
figured Cope had turned off the TV. But she didn’t hear the clatter of pots and
pans, or the sizzle of stir fry, and didn’t smell food cooking. Stomach queasy,
she rushed out into the living room.
Cope sat on the armchair, face white, the muted television
showing the current weather report. Chopped vegetables sat on the kitchen
counter. The pot of water on the stove sat stone cold on the front left
element, and the package of pasta lay on the counter unopened.
Fear knotting her stomach, Dani whispered, “Robert, what is
it?”