And Playing the Role of Herself... (22 page)

My argument with Sophie hadn't changed her mind and she flatly refused to let us pay for dinner, also extracting a promise from both of us to come to Santa Barbara soon and let her cook for us at her restaurant. She kissed and hugged us both goodbye, ignoring the curious stares we were getting, and told me softly, "I am glad to have met you, Caidence. Bring her smile back, please."
I smiled in response and squeezed her hand. "I'll do my best, Sophie." I placed my other hand on my chest. "P
rometo
."
She smiled warmly and then pushed me gently towards Josh who was eyeballing the desserts. "Go, or you will never get him out of here."
I laughed and tugged him by the arm towards the door. "Come on, Josh, let's get out of Sophie's hair." He looked longingly at the desserts, even though he'd finished off his own huge piece of flan and half of my cheese tart. I grabbed his hand when he hesitated, and physically pulled him out the door, laughing.
The flashbulbs going off as we stepped outside blinded me for a moment and I stumbled a bit, throwing up a hand in an automatic defense. Josh's arm went around my waist in support, and he had a second to mumble, "Let me handle this…" before the barrage of questions started, and another round of flashes.
Oh shit.
"Mr. Riley, how long have you and Miss Harris been seeing each other?"
"What is your relationship?"
"Miss Harris, over here!"
Josh stepped slightly in front of me, keeping a hand resting lightly on my back. "What's all this," he asked with an easy smile, sending the photographers into a frenzy of clicking and whirring. "Slow news day?"
"Does Robyn know you're here with another woman?" Someone yelled, shoving a microphone into Josh's face, and it was then I realized this wasn't just photographers, there were video cams as well, and reporters from TV tabloids.
Shit, shit, shit.
"Caidence is a friend of both Robyn and I…" Josh tried to explain, but another volley of questions and yelling drown him out.
"Over here! Josh, Caidence, over here! Give us a smile…"
"Josh, when did you and Robyn break up?"
"Miss Harris, what will it be like to work with Miss Ward now that you've stolen her fiancée?"
"Oh, hell," Josh said under his breath, "I think that's enough of this - come on."
We pushed through the group and walked as quickly as possible down the block, the group trailing behind us, still yelling questions and taking photos. I kept my eyes to the front, so I didn't get an exact count, but there must have been at least twenty, if not more.
"Josh, is it true that you, Caidence and Robyn had a threesome?"
Oh, Liz would have loved that one…
"Caidence, were you actually with Josh when you 'disappeared'?"
Goddamnit, how many times do I have to say it - I didn't disappear, I didn't get lost…
"We have a source that tells us you're trying to weasel your way between Robyn and Josh to break up their relationship…is that true Miss Harris?"
My steps slowed.
Weasel
? Now how was that for a coincidence? I felt my jaw tighten and my temple start to throb in anger.
I was never a big believer in coincidences.
I slowed even further, ready to go back into the restaurant and kick some elder Ward sister ass, but Josh tugged at my hand, urging me on. I quickly decided he was right, and kicking Trish's ass, with twenty-some reporters and photographers as well and her own mother looking on, wasn't the best idea right now.
Maybe some other time.
I lengthened my stride to keep up with Josh and soon we were slipping into the car and slamming the doors behind us while the group continued to film, yell and take pictures.
"Goddamnit!" Josh jammed the key into the ignition in disgust. "What the hell was all that? Shit, I hate when they get like that." He started the car and jammed it into gear, backing swiftly out onto the street and scattering reporters as he went.
I fastened my seatbelt, remembering Josh's penchant for speed, and gripped the seat with shaky hands, holding on tightly as Josh led a determined news van and a few photographers on a merry chase. We squealed onto Pico at dizzying speed, our pursuers still on our bumper, but a harrowing left onto Lincoln lost two of them, and when we hit the Santa Monica Freeway and Josh opened up however many horses that little car had under the hood, they didn't have a chance.
After a few more minutes of white-knuckle driving that would have made Dale Earnhardt Jr. proud, Josh slowed to a more sedate - if you can call 90 sedate - speed and I loosened my grip on the seat and the door.
"God damn," Josh said finally, and flashed a smile at me. "That was kick ass."
I frowned at him and punched him in the arm. "Jerk. You coulda killed someone. Someone like me, for instance."
He just laughed, and I grunted and rubbed my face with my hands, hiding a smile.
He glanced over at me, caught the smile and laughed again. "Admit it. It was kick ass."
I just smiled and shook my head, relaxing back into the seat. After a few minutes of driving in silence, I asked curiously, "Does that happen to you a lot? The press just waiting for you like that?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes, when it's a publicized event and I'm with Robyn, it can get a little crazy, but they're usually a little less…nasty." He paused, and looked thoughtful. "This was kind of strange."
When I'm with Robyn
…that brought up a whole set of insecurities I didn't feel like dealing with at the moment. Robyn and Josh did the public couple thing for publicity and for there careers…what happened if…
when
…things got more serious between me and Robyn? Where did I fit into her life? Or did I? Did she assume things would just stay the same, and I was just something on the side? I pushed the thought away with an annoyed shake of my head, concentrating instead on whether I should tell Josh my suspicions about Trish.
"Josh…" I started hesitantly, still not sure of how to bring it up. "Did you hear one of those guys ask me if I was trying to weasel my way between you and Robyn?"
He nodded. "Caid, don't let it bother you…"
"No, no, it's not that," I said, and shook my head. "Although it does bother me that people think that." I paused. "When I talked with Trish earlier tonight, she told me she wasn't going to let me weasel in on you while Robyn was gone…"
He swore softly and shook his head sadly. "Goddamn Trish. She said something tonight about how I'd better be honest with Robyn, because she was going to hear about this whether I told her or not. Shit. She must have called someone. I can't believe she'd do that! I know she likes to give Robyn a hard time, but this is ridiculous. Damn, Robby's going to kill her…"
"Not if I get there first," I mumbled. "What's with those two anyway? One minute she's defending Robyn and acting like the proud sister, and the next, she's cutting her to shreds…"
"Yeah, they've always had a strange relationship - I think Trish is totally jealous of Robyn's fame, but at the same time she's incredibly loyal…" He looked over at me curiously. "You got all that from her tonight?"
"No." I shook my head. "Trish came by to see Robyn the morning she left for Florida. I'd just spent the night…when Robyn introduced us, she talked about watching
9th Precinct
whenever Robyn was on, and then proceeded to basically call her, and every other actress, a pretty face with no talent. It was…bizarre."
"You spent the night? At her house?" He asked in surprise. I nodded. "And she introduced you to Trish?"
I nodded again, and smiled wanly. "Not quite as simple as it sounds - there were some…issues. But yes, I stayed the night, and yes, she introduced me to Trish."
He let out a low whistle. "You've got more pieces of her than you think then, Caid. She never lets her women stay over. Never even invites them to the house. Never."
The words hit me like a punch, and I let my head fall back against the headrest.
Her women.
Christ.
I couldn't even be glad about the other things he'd said. All I heard was
her women
…
He looked over at me apologetically. "Ah, shit. That sounded bad. I…"
I held up a hand, stopping him. "No, no…don't apologize. I pretty much knew about," I waved my hand vaguely, "that. I just…" I shook my head. "Let's just change the subject though, okay?"
He looked at me worriedly, but obliged. "So, ah…you said you were going to be in New York next week?"
"Yeah. Monday through Wednesday, probably. Connie is still working out the details."
"My dad lives upstate…I'm stopping over for a couple of days on my way to England. Do you know where you're staying? Maybe we could have dinner or meet for a drink or something."
I looked over at him and laughed lightly. "I love ya, Josh, and enjoy your company, but do you really think that's a good idea after what just happened?"
He frowned. "I'm not going to let the press dictate who I do things with, Caid, and neither should you."
The irony of the statement wasn't lost on me, since in essence he and Robyn had been doing exactly that for two years. But I knew what he meant.
"I have a feeling we're going to be doing a lot together in the future, Caid," he continued. "The press is going to have to get used to it sometime."
"Ugh." I rubbed my forehead with the palm of my hand and then ran my hand through my hair. "I know, I know, and I might as well get used to it, too, since it's going to be a little crazy for a while after the finale airs…" I sighed. "How about a compromise? I'll be at the Gansevoort - I fly in on Monday night, and was planning on a late dinner at the hotel restaurant…want to join me? It would keep the press to a minimum. They're good about security."
"That'll works for me - how about I call you later this weekend to firm things up?"
I nodded. "Thanks, Josh…and…can you call Robyn and tell her about all this? You can call her, right? I don't want her to be surprised, or to think…"
"I'll call her, but she's not going to think anything bad, Caid - not about you and me. I doubt she'll even hear about it - she's pretty wrapped up in the movie, and it's a closed set." He patted my leg. "You shouldn't worry so much. They'll lose interest in no time."
I desperately hoped he was right.

He was wrong. No one lost interest.
If anything, the recent mix of stories about me - my disappearance, the photos of me kissing an unidentified blond man, and my dinner with Josh - combined to set the press into something of a feeding frenzy.
My flight out of LA the afternoon before had drawn a good bit interest from the lurking LAX celebrity photo corps, and my arrival in LaGuardia had been just as well documented. Annoyed by the growing group of press following my every move, I wasn't as charming as I could have been as I made my way through the cadre of photographers at the hotel that evening, or this morning, on my way to the morning show taping, when I was swamped again outside the network building.
"Shit." I grunted in disgust, tossing the paper I'd been looking at onto the table nestled in the bay window seating nook of my hotel room. It skidded across a stack of other papers and internet printouts already there, scattering them and knocking several to the carpet.
Pictures of Josh and me at Sophie's, smiling and laughing over dinner.
Pictures of Josh with his arm around my waist as we left the restaurant and others of us as we hurried to the car ahead of the press, our hands linked. I don't even remember holding his hand, but there it was, in full color.
Pictures of the two of us at dinner the night before at Ona, again smiling and looking very chummy. The security at the hotel was good and to my relief we hadn't been bothered once during dinner, but they couldn't stop every enterprising diner with a camera-phone.
The pictures taken on the balcony of Liz's Malibu house, of James kissing me.
Grainy covert photos from the supposedly 'closed' set of
Lost Key
, showing Robyn looking gaunt, pale and un-kept, along with accompanying stories of her rumored breakdown. I knew she was playing an addict in the film, and I applauded her makeup artist, but the photos gave me a twinge of concern - the thinness was real, and she was too thin already. I hoped she wasn't taking this looking like an addict to the extreme.
Scattered throughout the pages were pictures of Josh and Robyn, looking happy and beautiful together, gazing at each other with obvious affection and adoration.
And then there were the headlines.
Home-wrecker. Temptress. Seductress. Back-stabber. Harlot. Conniver. Schemer.
Basically, a thesaurus of words meaning nasty bitch.
I sighed again and dropped heavily onto the couch, staring out the window at the Hudson and cityscape, leaving the papers where they lay.
Seemingly overnight, I had become a certified jezebel; a prickly slut who had broken up one of the most recognized celebrity pairings of the last several years, and caused a nervous breakdown in the process.
Fantastic.
Josh had tried to reassure me last night, telling me again that this would blow over; that another celebrity would do something shocking or just plain stupid and the press would forget all about us, but to me it seemed doubtful. I'd never been the focus of so much press, nor did I ever want to be again.
Ever.
I'd have to examine that wish carefully, considering the relationship I was fumbling around in with Robyn. If the press ever got the points of the triangle of Josh, Robyn and I connected correctly…I shook my head, not even wanting to imagine the kind of frenzy that would provoke. What was happening to me now was quite enough to deal with.
And I still have the fallout from the season finale to go through, which should be just about
…I checked my watch…
half-way through right now
.
I ran a hand through my hair, still slightly damp from the shower I'd taken after making use of the rooftop pool and the very fancy exercise facility the hotel boasted. The workout had helped my stress levels a little, but not as much as I'd hoped, and the tumbler of scotch and ice I was sipping on was the next step in trying to relax enough to sleep.
The buzz of my cell phone vibrating against the glass-topped bed stand interrupted my next sip, and I rolled my eyes, thinking it was probably Connie. Again. She'd been calling me almost hourly to give me pep talks, advice on what to say and more importantly what
not
to say to the press, and updates on what steps the agency was taking to get things back under control. While I appreciated her concern and support, more press-talk was the last thing I wanted to hear right now.
I pushed myself reluctantly off the couch and crossed to the phone, not even bothering to check the display. "Connie, I think you're the best damn agent in the world, but honestly, I don't need to be babysat. I fine, really."
There was a pause, and then a low chuckle that sent my heart pounding and made breathing suddenly difficult. "I'm glad to hear it," the familiar voice rasped, and I closed my eyes, savoring the riot of emotions that voice produced.
"Robyn…" I steadied my breathing and sat down on the bed. "Hey."
"Hey yourself."
Neither of us spoke for several moments - I was happy just listening to her breathe, to know she was at the other end of the line, to finally be connected to her again in some way. I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes, trying to picture where she was, what she was doing, what she looked like…was her hair loose around her shoulders or tied back? Was she dressed for an evening out, or in casual clothes - jeans and a t-shirt maybe?
"Goddamn, I miss you," I said finally, gratified at the slight catch in her breathing.
"I miss you too," she said softly. "I think I might have a remedy for that."
"Do you." I smiled slightly. "Why, Miss Ward, are you suggesting…"
"Open the door, Caid."
My eyes popped open and I sat up fast enough to make me dizzy. "What?"
There was a soft tapping on the door. "Open the door."
"Holy shit." I tossed the phone down, scrambled off the bed and flew to the door, fumbling with the different chains and locks before finally throwing the door open and staring dumbly at the sight that greeted me.
Damn, she looked good.
Faded jeans, tennis shoes and a blue hooded UCLA sweatshirt pulled up to cover her head...
"Surprise." She smiled hesitantly. "Can I come in?"
I blinked and shook myself out of my frozen state. "God yes. Of course, come in." I stepped back to let her in. She brushed past me, closer than necessary in the wide door and the slight contact and accompanying hint of her perfume set my skin and senses tingling.
She moved further into the room, looking around curiously. I flipped on a light to dispel the gloom I'd been sitting in and followed her across the room. She stopped in front of the bay window and looked out over the city.
"Nice." She turned to me, pulling back the hood of her sweatshirt to reveal a loose tumble of dark hair. Her movements stopped and her lips parted slightly as she looked at me. I was dressed - or rather undressed - for bed, and her eyes wandered my body, starting at my bare feet and moving up from there, taking in my bare legs, baggy cotton boxers and snug tank top…when she reached my face and our eyes met, the emotions on display there had me moving towards her without a thought other than wanting to immerse myself in what I saw.
We came together furiously, desperately - no finesse or tenderness, just raw need and instant, overwhelming arousal. I was dizzy from it; dizzy from the ferocity of her kisses, from her tongue seeking mine, from her lips and teeth on my neck…it was overwhelming and held an underlying desperation that even in my brain's addled state, set off warning bells.
I tried to slow it down, to get things back in control by breaking the kiss and pulling away slightly, but Robyn took the opportunity to quickly pull the sweatshirt over her head and the t-shirt beneath it -
did the woman ever wear a bra??
- tossing them haphazardly to the floor as she kicked off her shoes and worked at the buttons of her jeans. In seconds she was naked and any thoughts of slowing things down to ascertain the reason for her desperation vanished when she took my hands and lay them on her skin.
"Oh, yeah…" she breathed. "Jesus, Caid, I need you to touch me. I just need to feel you…" Another heated kiss pushed me backward and I fell onto the bed; she came after me and straddled my waist, grasping my hand and guiding it to her sex. "Inside…please, Caid. I need…" She pushed my fingers into her warmth and moaned, falling forward and bracing herself above me, one hand next to my head and the other against the headboard. Her eyes closed and she threw her head back, moving against me with increased urgency.
Oh my god…
It was wildly erotic, to be inside her like this as she moved above me; my own hips moved in response, rising to meet her thrusts and drawing low moans from both of us. With my free hand I grabbed her waist and pulled her against me harder.
"God…" her breaths were almost sobs, her eyes shut tightly, and I felt a flicker of uncertainty. I needed to see her eyes, needed to know she was here, with me…
"Look at me, baby. Don't close your eyes…look at me…"
Her slowed her movements and lowered her head, her hair cascading over one shoulder and tickling the skin of my chest. Her eyes opened, so dark they looked black, staring intently into mine.
"Caid…" she whispered, raising her hand from the bed to cup my cheek. "I…oh, god…"
Her eyes widened when I gently stroked her clit with my thumb and I watched in wonderment and reverence as her breathing stopped, only to be let out in a rush as her body stiffened and release washed over her face.
There were no words to describe it, watching her at that moment.
It was terrifyingly personal, so intimate that I had to force myself not to look away, even though it had been at my request. I continued stroking and the gentle rhythm of my fingers until she stopped my hand with her own and slowly collapsed against me, burying her face in my neck, her breathing harsh and labored in my ear.
I slowly withdrew my fingers and wrapped both arms around her tightly, pulling her closer and kissing her temple. I held her as her breathing returned to normal and her trembling stopped; held her as the tears I could feel on my neck dried and her body relaxed in my embrace.
"Hey," I said finally, and kissed her hair. "You okay?" I felt her nod, and stroked her hair with one hand. "Honey…"
She raised her head and kissed me, silencing my words. "Shhh…" she said softly, and kissed me again. "No talking. Just let me touch you."
Her hand had already worked its way under my shirt, stroking the skin beneath my ribs, and I made no protest as she pushed herself up and straddled me again, pulling the material over my head and tossing it to the floor. As much as I wanted to know what was going on in her head, something told me to keep quiet and let her control things; she needed this somehow and to be honest, so did I.
So I said nothing as she sat back and her gaze raked my naked torso, claming it as hers. I said nothing as her mouth licked and sucked at my neck and breasts and a hand tugged my boxers down over my hips and off my legs. I said nothing as she kissed her way down my body with infinite tenderness, so different from her desperation of minutes before. I said nothing until I breathlessly gasped out her name as her tongue brought me to climax once, and then again, and I lay exhausted in a tangle of sheets, her dark hair spread out across my stomach and her lips soft against thigh.
"Jesus," I breathed when I'd gotten my breath back. I stroked her head. "Come up here, please."
She did as I asked, placing gentle kisses as she went, her hair brushing softly against my skin as she moved up my body. She looked into my face for several long moments, her eyes swirling with emotions I couldn't decipher. I almost told her then. Almost said the words, almost blurted out
I love you
…but she broke eye contact, kissed my chin and laid her head on my chest and the moment slipped away.
My arms went around her automatically, and I touched my lips to her hair. "Rob…"
"Shhh…" she quieted me again. "I don't want to talk right now, okay? Just hold me."
I hesitated, wanting very badly to know what was going on, but not wanting to spoil the moment.
"Please, Caid."
I sighed and kissed her head again, rubbing a hand up and down her back. She felt my acquiescence and draped an arm across my waist, turning her head to kiss the skin below my collarbone. I closed my eyes and relaxed, enjoying the feel of her weight on me, and the heat of her skin. As I drifted off to sleep, she whispered something and I stirred, fighting against a dragging tiredness caused by sleepless nights, stressful days and recent physical activity. A soothing hand on my stomach calmed me; I gave up and let sleep come.
##
"I don't really give a flying fuck about what the studio's normal policy is towards handing the press at the building entrance, Connie," I snapped. "I just want to know if they're going to do anything about it
today
."
The silence on the other end of the line told me that I'd again let my nasty mood get the better of me.
Damn
. First it was the poor room service guy this morning; the first person I'd seen after waking up alone. Then the concierge who had asked me, innocently, if I'd enjoyed my stay. And now Connie. I sighed, and leaned my head back against the leather interior of the network furnished limo.
"Shit, Connie, I'm sorry. Pay no attention to the raving lunatic on the other end of the phone…she's had a bad couple of days and wants nothing more than to be home and away from this damn city."
Connie laughed lightly, but her voice held concern. "You seemed okay when I talked to you last night, Caid…did something happen? You didn't go out, did you, and run into more press?"
"No…"
My lesbian lover stopped by for a lovely fuck and then snuck off without a word while I was sleeping. But she was nice enough to order me croissants and coffee before she left.
"…I'm just tired, and ready to go home."
"Well you're almost done, kiddo. Just charm the pants off Brandon Marcus and you'll be home in no time."
I barked out a laugh. "I'll do my best, but if he starts taking his pants off, I'm outta there. That is
definitely
not in my contract."
Connie giggled and I grinned, glad I'd been forgiven for my previous outburst. "You could do worse than Brandon Marcus, Caid. He's kind of cute in a…"
"…geeky, teddy bear sort of way?" I finished for her, and laughed. "He actually kind of reminds me of an ex-boyfriend I had in college."
"Really?" I rarely spoke about my personal life or my life before she'd been my agent, and I could tell she was intrigued.
"Really," I told her, and laughed again. "But I still don't want to see him without his pants. And what's with you trying to hook me up lately? Teenagers last week, and now nerdy talk show hosts…"