Almost Home (40 page)

Steffie dropped into her chair. “So, Mia asked you to be in the wedding?”

Vanessa nodded. “Bridesmaid.”

“Any chance I’m on the invitation list?”

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

Steffie made a face. “Hello? Old girlfriend?”

Vanessa waved her hand to dismiss the thought. “You’re an old friend. Your brother went to high
school with Beck and your dad grew up with Hal. That trumps whatever came after.”

“Just thought I’d check. I hadn’t seen an invitation.”

“They’re just going out. Since they decided to move the date from June, they’re a few weeks off the normal schedule.”

“So who else is in the wedding party?”

“Mia’s brother Andy’s wife, Dorsey, is the other bridesmaid, and the matron of honor is a friend of Mia’s from when she was in the FBI. She wants both of her brothers to walk her down the aisle, since their dad died last year. Andy’s on board, but she had to fly to Montana to try to talk the other one into coming. Beck took her to the airport this morning.”

“I heard the one in Montana is, like, a recluse or something. Barbara and Nita were talking about it in the coffee shop. And they said that there was another brother who had been in the FBI, too, but he was, like, a really creepy guy, into all kinds of really bad stuff.”

Vanessa shrugged. “I don’t really know. Mia doesn’t talk about him, and I don’t ask.”

“Nice family your brother’s marrying into.” Steffie tilted her head back and took a long drink of water.

Vanessa glared.

Steffie shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

“I’ve met most of the others, and they’re all really nice.”

“What happened to the other brother? The creepy one?”

“Oh. Brendan.” Vanessa nodded. “All I know is that he’s dead, and everyone’s okay with that.”

“Maybe the one from Montana’s hot.” Steffie wiggled her eyebrows. “It could make for an interesting day.”

“I’ve met Andy, and I have to say, he is really cute. Mia said once that all the guys in her family look alike, so Mountain Man probably is pretty cute, too. But I’m thinking he’s gotta be strange, living by himself all this time. So thanks, but no thanks.”

“So what? You’ve done strange before.”

“That’s exactly my point. I’ve met so many guys with issues that I’m starting to believe there’s no other kind. I don’t care how hot the hermit is. I’m done with all that.” She shook her head. “Uh-uh. Give me boring and normal, if you give me anything at all. No baggage, no issues, no drama.”

“Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”

“I’ve had fun enough to last a lifetime. If there is a next guy—and I’m not sure I will ever want another one for any length of time and for anything other than occasional sex—he’s going to be excruciatingly bland.” She held up her empty ice-cream cup. “Vanilla, not rum raisin. Someone who washes the car in the driveway on Saturday morning and who rakes the leaves in the backyard in the fall and reads the newspaper at the breakfast table. He’s going to be one of those guys whose idea of a good time is watching a movie at home with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and me in the other.”

Steffie rolled her eyes.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’ve just described my sister’s excruciatingly dull life, and it terrifies me to think that someday I could end up like that. It’s my worst nightmare.”

“Which nicely explains your commitment phobia.”

“Don’t knock it, since you obviously haven’t tried it.”

“That was a low blow, Stef.”

“Sorry. Really. Damn. I
am
sorry.” Steffie looked contrite. “Give me a minute to remove my feet from my mouth.”

“It’s okay. It’s true. At least, it was true, once upon a time. But two really bad marriages have cured me of all that.” She finished the last of the ice cream and licked the spoon clean. “Anyway, like I said, Mountain Man is probably as weird as they come after living like a hermit for a couple of years, so it doesn’t matter how hot he is. I’ll be my usual sweet and pleasant self at the wedding, because he’s Mia’s brother, but if what she’s said about him being antisocial is true, he’ll be on a plane back to Montana before his sister even tosses her bouquet. And that’s just skippy with me.”

“Well, if he gets bored and lonely while he’s in St. Dennis, you can send him my way.” Steffie lowered her feet to the floor and wearily pushed herself up from the chair. “Do you mind if we do dinner at Captain Walt’s tonight? I’m not really dressed for Lola’s and I’m too tired to go home to change.”

“Walt’s is fine. I love their broiled seafood platter.” Vanessa stood and gathered the paper cups, napkins, and plastic spoons and tossed them in the trash near the front door, all thoughts of the potentially hot guy already replaced by visions of a few broiled scallops, a piece of rockfish, and one of Walt’s famous jumbo lump crab cakes.

A
T
the precise moment Dallas MacGregor was picking up her son, Cody, from his pricey summer day camp out near Topanga State Park, the home video starring her soon-to-be-ex-husband and two of the female production assistants from his latest film had already been uploaded to the Internet. By the time she arrived at her Malibu home—she’d stopped once on the way from the set of her latest movie promo shoot to pick up dinner—the one-thousandth viewing had already been downloaded.

The phone was on overdrive, ringing like mad, when she walked into her kitchen.

“Miss MacGregor, you have many messages. Two from your aunt Beryl.” Elena, her housekeeper, cast a wary glance at Cody and handed her employer a stack of pink slips as the phone continued to ring. “About Mr. Emilio …”

“Would you mind answering that?” Dallas slid the heavy paper bag onto the counter. “And why are you still here? I thought you wanted to leave today by four?”

“Yes, miss, I …” Elena lifted the receiver. “Miss
MacGregor’s … oh, hello, Miss Townsend. Yes, she’s home now, she just arrived. Yes, I gave her the message but … of course, Miss Townsend …”

Elena held the phone out to Dallas.

“It’s your great-aunt,” she whispered.

“I figured that out.” Dallas smiled and took the cordless receiver from Elena. “Hello, Berry. I was just thinking about—”

“Dallas.” Her aunt cut her off sharply. “What the hell is going on out there?”

“Not much.” Dallas paused. “What’s supposed to be going on?”

“That numbskull you were married to.” Berry’s breath came in ragged puffs.

She was obviously in a lather over something. Not unusual, Dallas thought. At eighty-one, it didn’t take much to rile Berry these days.

“What’s he done now?” Dallas began emptying the bag, lining up the contents on the counter.

“Not
what
as much as
who.
” Berry was becoming increasingly agitated.

“Mommy.” Cody tugged at her sleeve. “Why are all those cars out there?”

“Berry, hold on for just a moment, please.” Dallas glanced out the side window where cars were lined up on the other side of the fence that completely encircled the gated property, cars that had not been there five minutes ago when they drove through the gates. It wasn’t unusual for paparazzi to follow her home, but she hadn’t noticed any cars tailing her today. She raised the blinds just a little, and saw more cars were arriving even as she watched.

“I don’t know, Cody. Maybe the studio put out
something about Mommy’s new movie. Maybe we should turn on the television and see.”

“No!” Elena and Berry both shouted at the same time.

“What?” Dallas frowned and turned to her housekeeper, who stood behind Cody. She pointed to the child, then raised her index finger to her lips, their silent code for “not in front of Cody.”

Keeping a curious eye on Elena, Dallas asked, “Berry, why don’t you tell me …?”

“Are you saying you don’t know? Seriously? You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“That idiot ex of yours—”

“Not ex yet, but soon, please God …,” Dallas muttered. “And it’s long been established that he’s an idiot, so anything he’s done should be viewed with that in mind.”

“—managed to get himself filmed doing … all sorts of things that you will not want Cody to see …” Berry was almost gasping. “And with more than one person. It was disgusting. Perverted.”

“You mean …” Dallas’s knees went weak and she sat in the chair that Elena wisely pulled out for her.

“Yes. A sex tape. Not one, but
two
young women. I was shocked. Appalled!”

“Wait! You actually
saw
it?”

“Three times!” Dallas could almost see Berry fanning herself. “It was vile, just vile! You know, Dallas, that I never liked that man. I told you when you first brought him home that I—”

“Berry, where did you see this?”

“On my computer. There was a link to a site—”

“Hold on for a moment, Berry.” Dallas put her hand over the mouthpiece and turned to Elena. “Would you mind cutting up an apple for Cody? Cody, go wash your hands so you can have your snack.”

After her son left the room, Dallas took the phone outside and sat at one of the tables on her shaded patio.

“Dear God, Berry, let me get this straight. Emilio made a sex tape and it was put on the Internet? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Yes, and not just any sex tape. This one had—”

“Wait a minute; they allowed you to download the whole thing?”

“No, no, not all of it, just a little peek. You had to pay to see the whole thing.”

“And you did? You paid to watch …” Dallas didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The thought of her elderly aunt watching Emilio and his latest conquests burning up the sheets—and paying for the privilege—was horrifying and crazy funny at the same time. “Wait—did you say
three times
?”

“Yes, and it was—”

“Berry, why did you watch it three times?”

“Well,” Berry sniffed. “I had to make sure it was really him.”

The rest of the evening went downhill from there.

Dallas made every attempt to remain calm lest Cody pick up on the fact that she was almost blind with anger at the man she’d been married to for seven years.

Seven years, she repeated to herself.
Seven years out of my life, wasted on that reprobate
. The only good
thing to come out of those years was Cody—and Dallas had to admit that she would have weathered a lifetime of Emilio’s amorous flings and general foolishness if she’d had to in order to have her son. When she filed for divorce eight months ago, following the latest in his long line of infidelities, Emilio hadn’t even bothered to beg her to reconsider: they’d done that dance so often over the years that even he was tired of it.

She managed to have a normal evening with Cody and ignored the cars that parked beyond the protective fence. They had a nice dinner and watched a video together, then Cody had his bath and Dallas read a bedtime story before she tucked him in and turned off the light.

It wasn’t until she went back downstairs, alone, that she permitted herself to fall apart.

There was no love lost between her and Emilio. She’d long since accepted the fact that he’d married her strictly to further his own career as a director. For a time, she’d remained stubbornly blind, insisting that her husband be signed to direct her movies, and for a time, she’d been equally blind to his affairs. Lately it occurred to her that she well might be the last person in the entire state of California to catch on to the extent of Emilio’s indiscretions.

For the past five years, she and Emilio had battled over the same ground, over and over until Dallas no longer cared who he slept with, as long as it wasn’t her. Looking back now, she realized she should have left him the first time he’d cheated on her, when the tabloids had leaked those photos of Emilio frolicking with a pretty up-and-coming Latina actress on a
sunny, sandy beach in Guatemala when he’d told Dallas he was going to scout some locations for a film he was thinking about making, but it had been so much easier to stay than to leave. There was Cody to consider: Emilio had never wanted the child, but Dallas had hoped—for Cody’s sake—that he’d come around. Besides, Dallas’s schedule had been so hectic for the past three years that she’d barely had time to read the tabloids. She’d had the blessing—or the curse—of having had wonderful roles offered to her, roles that she’d really wanted, so she’d signed on for all of them, and had gone from one set right onto the next, leaving her time for nothing and no one other than her son. It had only been recently that Dallas admitted to herself that perhaps she’d been deliberately overworking herself to avoid having to deal with her home situation.

Well, avoid no more
, she told herself as she dialed her attorney’s number. This time, Emilio had gone too far. When the call went directly to voice mail, Dallas left the message that she wanted her lawyer to do whatever had to be done to speed up the divorce.

“And oh,” she’d added, “we need to talk about that custody arrangement we’d worked out …”

While she waited for the return call, Dallas logged on to the computer in her home office. She searched the Web for what she was looking for. The link to the video appeared almost instantaneously, along with a running tally of how many times the video had been watched—all thirteen thousand, four hundred, and thirty-one viewings. Her stomach churning, she clicked on the link and was asked first to confirm that she was over eighteen, then for her credit card number.

“Great,” she murmured. “For the low, low price of
nineteen ninety-five, I can watch my husband … that is, my soon-to-be-ex-husband, perform daring feats with his production assistants.”

The video began abruptly—“What, no music?”—and while the lighting could have been better, there was no question who was the filling in the middle of that fleshy sandwich. As difficult as it was to watch, she forced herself to sit through it, commenting to herself from time to time. (“Emilio, Emilio, didn’t anyone ever tell you to always keep your best side to the camera? And, babe, that is decidedly
not
your best side.”)

When the phone rang before it was over, Dallas turned off her computer and answered the call.