Plain Jane in the Spotlight (17 page)

As they resumed their walk she said, ‘I hope you don’t think I said too much.’

‘That was brilliant!’ Joe spluttered. ‘The perfect story. You’re really good at this, isn’t she, Travis?’

‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘She is.’ He glanced over his shoulder at the paparazzi still in pursuit and said in a harassed voice, ‘Don’t they ever give up?’

‘They’re waiting for you to kiss her,’ Joe informed him. ‘Get on with it.’

He slid quickly away lest he be caught in the picture.

‘He’s right,’ Travis said.

‘Of course he is.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘We have to be professional,’ she assured him.

The sun was beginning to set, throwing a golden glow over the sand and making the water glitter. As if united by the same thought, they strolled a little way into the sea and paused, gazing into each other’s faces.

Gently he pushed the hair back from her face.

‘Time to be professional,’ he said, and lowered his mouth.

She’d thought herself braced against the impact but knew instantly that nothing could have guarded her from the feel of his lips. Gentle, hesitant, then firm, pleading, enticing, commanding.

It was all an act, she reminded herself wildly—mostly on the surface to fool the cameramen, and just a little between them to provoke her into the right reaction. Nothing for real.

Remember that!

But it was hard to remember while she was held so strongly against his chest, his bare legs against hers, his arm behind her head, holding her close.

Feelings chased each other through her in confusing whirls. Pleasure, excitement, a feeling that life had opened up new possibilities. But also fear, because she knew she was on the verge of losing control. She wanted him more—and more—and any moment now—

‘That’s it, gentlemen,’ came Joe’s voice out of the mists. ‘Mr Falcon just wanted a pleasant day, without you invading his privacy. Time you went.’

Nobody was fooled but they had what they wanted, and they began to drift away.

‘Are you all right?’ Travis asked softly.

‘Yes, I…I’m all right.’

‘I’m sorry about this. It’s not what you signed up for.’

‘Everything’s fine. I’m not going to make trouble, I promise you. Sensible and level headed. That’s what we agreed, and that’s what I’m giving you.’

He hesitated a moment, as though something had taken him by surprise. But then he gently released her, saying, ‘Of course. I know you always keep your word. It’s time we were going home.’

Now they would be alone and something more might happen between them, she thought happily. But Joe intervened like an awkward demon, announcing that he’d booked a table for them at one of the city’s most glamorous restaurants.

So the performance continued that evening under glittering chandeliers. They talked but it meant nothing. Charlene had a sense that he was keeping slightly distant, as though wary after the day’s events. She could be patient. Perhaps when they got home he would speak more freely.

But at last he closed his eyes and said, ‘I think I’ve had too much to drink. We should get home before I have an embarrassing collapse.’

He left with his arm around her shoulders, murmuring, ‘You don’t mind propping me up, do you?’

She patted his hand. ‘It’s what I’m here for,’ she said tenderly.

Charlene looked forward to taking him home, seeing him warm and comfortable, even perhaps happy. That was really all she asked. That he should be happy.

There was no hint then of what was to come, and how it would devastate him.

CHAPTER TEN

A
S SOON
as they reached home Travis put on the television, as he always did, to catch up with the news. Almost at once he tensed, staring at the screen.

‘Isn’t that—?’ Charlene gasped.

‘That’s my father,’ he confirmed, turning up the sound.

‘…people who remember Amos Falcon from the old days are intrigued to see him in action again, and this conference in New York…’

Dazed, Travis sat down on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the screen. Charlene sat beside him, trying to imagine how this would be affecting him.

It seemed that Amos Falcon had been in New York for three days, during which time he had attended meetings and socialised with men as wealthy as himself. The only thing he hadn’t done was contact his son in Los Angeles.

Suddenly she felt Travis grow even more tense. Another man had appeared on the screen. He was in his thirties, had a facial resemblance to Amos and seemed on the best of terms with him.

‘…his son, Darius Falcon, who once seemed to have withdrawn from the world of finance, but who’ll be joining his father in this new opportunity…’

The item ended. Travis sat frozen.

‘He’s in New York,’ he murmured. ‘What time is it there?’

‘Three hours ahead of us,’ Charlene said. ‘He should be in bed by now.’

‘A good time to call him, then. No, wait.’

He began clicking buttons on his cellphone, looking for a message, Charlene thought. But there was nothing.

‘They didn’t say where he was staying,’ she said. ‘So where could you call him? Perhaps someone in his home would know. If you called—’

‘No!’
Travis interrupted her violently. ‘Never.’

Of course he wasn’t going to advertise that his father had ignored him, Charlene thought, blaming herself for thoughtlessness.

Travis named a hotel. ‘He’s always stayed there in the past.’

He dialled a number. Charlene moved quietly away. She had a horrible fear of what was about to happen, and knew he would hate anyone to see it.

But she left her bedroom door open and heard him say, ‘Fine, when he comes in would you give him a message? I’ll give you my home number and my cellphone. Any time will do, night or day.’

He hung up and turned to see her standing in the door.

‘Goodnight,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a long, tiring day.’

His message was plain. He’d spoken often of their closeness and his reliance on her, yet she could not help him now.

Quietly she closed the door.

Twice more during the night she rose and looked out discreetly. He was still there, silent and motionless. Never once did the phone ring.

There could be a simple answer. Amos might have stayed out overnight, or returned late and noted the message for later. The call would come. Surely it must.

Over breakfast she asked for the latest news, not revealing how much she knew.

‘I fell asleep,’ Travis said indifferently. ‘If the phone rang I might not have heard it.’

Her heart was heavy as she saw him off to work. Instinct warned her to fear the worst. She knew of Travis’s feeling of isolation, of being shut out from the heart of the family. He was obsessively aware of his father’s indifference to him, bordering on contempt. Now she saw the reality.

Amos had come to the country where his son lived but hadn’t contacted him, or even told him in advance. When Travis reached out he’d made no response. And Travis had been forced to watch him with brother Darius, the favoured son, as he himself would never be.

But Amos would call. He must. He would probably use the cellphone and contact Travis at the studio. But just in case he dialled the landline she would stay in all day.

Hours went past in silence. In the early afternoon the phone rang and she seized it up.

‘It’s me,’ said Travis’s voice. ‘Have there been any phone calls?’

‘No.’

‘I see. All right. I’ll see you tonight.’

He came home early, questioned her with a look, and shrugged when she shook her head. He settled on the sofa, watching television news, seeking further information about Amos. But there was nothing.

She brought him some coffee. ‘You look tired—’

The phone rang.

Their eyes met, sharing the same brilliant hope. He grabbed the phone.

‘Hello?
Father!
Good to hear from you. I heard you were over here. Maybe we could meet. I can get a couple of days off to fly to New York—what’s that? Oh, I see. Well, in that case—’

Curse Amos Falcon, she thought wildly. Curse him for daring to hurt Travis.

It broke her heart to see Travis’s face as hope died from it, leaving behind a dismal nothing.

The phone call ended. He stayed sitting on the sofa as though too weary ever to move again.

‘What happened?’ she asked, going to sit beside him.

‘He’s on his way back to Monte Carlo,’ Travis said in a blank voice. ‘He called me from the airport.’

‘Damn him!’

He shrugged. ‘I mean nothing to him. Why should he pretend otherwise? Right, that’s it. Time to be realistic. I think I’ll go out. Don’t wait up!’

‘Can’t I come with you?’

‘No, it won’t be the sort of evening that you’d enjoy.’

‘Hey, stop there! Be careful. If you end up in a nightclub with a floozie it’ll do you more damage than you could cope with.’

‘No women, I promise, just—’

‘Just too much to drink, huh?’

‘Maybe just a little.’

She had a vision of the evening ahead if she left him unprotected. It wouldn’t be like last night when he’d got faintly tipsy before going quietly home with her. This time there would be a little indulgence, then a lot, more and more. The word would go around, people would text and his enemies would be alerted. Suddenly everyone who wanted to damage him would converge.

‘No way,’ she said, taking hold of him. ‘Don’t even think of leaving.’

But he eased away from her.

‘I’m going,’ he said. ‘I know you mean it kindly, but I can’t shelter behind you for ever.’

‘Travis, don’t do this. It’s dangerous.’

‘That’s for me to say. A man’s entitled to behave badly sometimes.’

‘Sure he is. And you behave as badly as you want, but do it here, with me. No witnesses. And if anyone asks if you behaved badly I’ll lie my head off.’

‘But that’s just another way of sheltering behind you. Don’t try to control me, Charlene.’

In despair she stayed where she was on the sofa, leaning forward with her head in her hands. This was what it had come to. She couldn’t really help him at all.

‘Come on, don’t make so much of it,’ he said, sitting beside her. ‘I won’t be long, but maybe it’s time I let go of your apron strings. Hey, are you crying?’

‘No,’ she said huskily.

‘Yes, you are. It’ll be all right, I promise.’

She looked at him, defenceless, tears pouring down her cheeks. ‘Please,’ she choked. ‘Please don’t do this. They’ll be waiting for you. They always are.’

‘Don’t you think that sounds a bit paranoid?’

‘Yes. I am paranoid. Sometimes paranoid is the right thing to be. Please, Travis, don’t go. I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to stop you losing everything.’

‘I won’t—’

‘You will, you will. Oh, goodness, how can you throw it all away? Please—
please
—’

She was swamped by a sense of helplessness. His father’s behaviour had had an unnerving effect on Travis, seeming to imbue him with a sense of self-destruction, so that only rebellion would calm his spirit. He would pay a heavy price for it, and she, who’d vowed to protect him, could do nothing. Her weeping became more desperate.

‘Don’t cry,’ he said, brushing his fingers against her cheek. ‘Please, Charlene, don’t cry. I can’t bear it. Look…look I—’ There was a long silence.

She looked up, her eyes meeting his as she raised a tentative hand to touch his face.

‘Don’t go,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t go.’

‘Charlene, what—?’

‘Don’t go.’

Now her fingertips were touching his mouth, drifting back and forth so that tremors went through him. Suddenly he seized her hand, kissing the palm fiercely, looking up with a question in his eyes.

‘Please,’ she murmured.

He gave a sudden groan. ‘All right, I give in. I’ll do whatever you want. You’re the boss lady.’

She looked at him, unable to believe it. The feelings that had risen and swamped her made the tears flow more than ever.

‘Don’t,’ he begged. ‘Don’t… Look…come here.’

His arms tightened about her, his lips brushed her wet cheeks.

‘It’s all right,’ he said fiercely, ‘
it’s
all right
. I’ll do anything you want. Just tell me and I’ll do it.’

‘I just want you to be safe,’ she whispered.

‘And I will be safe, as long as I have you.’

‘You’ll always have me.’

‘Look at me,’ he murmured, lifting her chin with his fingers.

There was a dark light in his eyes, not the anger that had been there before, but one that seemed to open a new door. If only she knew—

Their mouths were close and she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips. Scarcely knowing what she did, she moved until they brushed softly against each other. It was the faintest touch, yet it was enough to bring back the moment on the beach when he had kissed her. She was shaking now as she had been then, and so was he. Now she sensed in him the same mixture of reactions—joy, disbelief, wonder, confusion—as she sensed in herself.

He lowered his mouth to touch hers more completely. Even then he was hesitant, but only for a moment, until he read the message of tender willingness in her lips, her hands touching his face. The wild excitement that had taken them by storm on the beach was there, but still lurking in the shadows, tempting them on with the promise of sweet discoveries, when they should have the courage to make them.

‘Charlene—’ He drew back a fraction. ‘Do you think—?’

‘Hush. What I think is…that this is no time for thinking.’

He hesitated only a moment, as if needing to be quite sure. Then he rose slowly, taking her hand for the short journey to his room. The huge windows, looking down over the lights of the city, were uncovered. But they didn’t draw the curtains across. There was no need. Up here, in the dark, nobody could see them as their clothes fell away.