Bridge to Haven (26 page)

“Mother is giving another party.”

Was there ever a weekend when she wasn’t? Dylan had something on his mind, and Abra knew she wouldn’t like it. “Marisa will see to everything. I want you to outshine everyone.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons.” He got up and took a shower, dressing in his white tennis shorts and shirt. “I’ll always take good care of you.” He tipped her chin and leaned down to kiss her. “I promise.” He brushed cold fingers against her cheek and left.

Dylan had given Marisa Cohen specific instructions, and Abra found herself wearing a halter-neck Chantilly white dress. “It shows off your tan beautifully.” Abra had been spending a lot of time alone by the pool. “It’s casual for an evening party, which will make you stand out even more. Leave your hair down.”

The telephone rang as she was walking in the door. “Maria is bringing your dinner. Be ready by seven, but don’t come to the house until I call you.” It was almost eight before she heard from him.

She entered through the French doors off the courtyard and found the living room packed with people in formal attire. Women wore floor-length gowns and glittering jewelry; the men wore tuxedos. Her informal white dress immediately drew attention. She spotted Dylan and was wondering what game he was playing now, when a familiar voice spoke from behind her.

“A dove among the peacocks.” Franklin Moss put a cigarette between his lips, inhaled deeply, and crushed it out in a marble ashtray. He exhaled slowly as he studied her face. “You look virginal.” When she pressed her lips together, he shook his head. “No insult intended. Lilith made it sound like you were on your way out the door last time we met. I didn’t expect to see you again.”

She lifted one shoulder. “I’m still in the cottage.”

“Lucky you.” He took out a silver cigarette case and offered her one. She shook her head and said she didn’t smoke. “Smart girl. Nasty habit.” He withdrew one for himself, tapped it on the case. He put the case in his pocket and took out a lighter, glancing toward Dylan. “How did a nice girl like you ever get tangled up with Dylan Stark?”

Nice girl? She almost laughed. “He’s my cousin.”

“And I’m your uncle.” He looked around the room and then back at her. “Lots of uncles in the world. This isn’t the place for you.”

“Probably because I’m not an actress.”

“Oh, I think you are, and better than most in this room, even the ones who get the starring roles. Mind if I tell you something?”

“What?”

“For a smart girl, you are really stupid.”

She turned her head away.

“Why do you stay? Is it his looks? He’s got them in spades, that’s for sure.”

“Love?”

He grinned at her sarcasm. “Yeah.
Love.
” He chuckled. “Or is he that good in bed?” When she didn’t answer, he gave a weary sigh.
“Even when you get the monkey off your back, the circus always comes back to town.”

She didn’t know what he was talking about.

Dylan wove his way through the crowd toward them. “Franklin, good to see you, as always.” He put his arm around Abra’s waist and looked between them as though something shady had been going on. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“We don’t.” Mr. Moss crushed another cigarette, ready to leave.

Dylan squeezed Abra’s waist. “Franklin worked for one of the most elite agencies in town until one particular actress defected and he got fired.”

“Like mother, like son. You know everyone’s business.”

“Nothing secret about a high-profile starlet diving into an affair with the director of her latest movie. Pretty hard to do damage control after that, wouldn’t you say?”

“Pamela will go far.”

“Do you think so?” Dylan’s expression turned to one of deep sympathy. Abra knew it was all show. “I heard your wife filed for divorce. Which makes me wonder if the rumors about you and your client commingling . . . ?”

The older man’s eyes flickered with anger as well as pain, but he covered his feelings quickly. He shrugged. “As I told your mother, women come and women go.”

“This man is a legend, Abra. They used to say he could take a girl off a street corner and make her into a movie star.”

“I still can, though I’m more selective these days.”

“Found anyone?”

“Still looking.” His gaze drifted to Abra.

“How selective? What are you looking for? Another blonde bombshell?”

“Loyalty. That’s what I’m looking for. Unfortunately, it’s nonexistent these days.”

“You’re wrong.” Dylan grinned at her. “Abra is as loyal as a Labrador. Aren’t you, baby?” Abra knew what was coming and saw no way to avert the inevitable.

Franklin Moss looked at her again, and not just her face this time. “Does she have any talent other than dogged faithfulness?”

“Her sister told me she plays piano.”

“How well?”

“I have no idea, but she must have been good.” Dylan laughed. “She played for a church.” He let go of her when someone called his name from across the room. He raised a hand in response and called back for them to give him a minute. “Take her back to your place and see what she can do.” He winked. “Who knows? She might surprise you.”

“You think so? I don’t surprise easily.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say.”

“Dylan.” Abra hated how small and desperate she sounded. She reached out and clutched at his arm.

He leaned down. “Go. It’s better than being put on a Greyhound bus.” He brushed his lips against her ear. “I promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” She watched him walk away, too shocked and hurt to speak. Dylan plucked a glass of champagne from a tray and joined a foursome of beautiful girls.

Abra’s body shook. It was over. Just like that. She’d lost him. She’d known she would. Eventually. Someday.

Not tonight. Not here. Not now.

She’d told herself over and over the day would come, but now that the moment had arrived, the shock set in, the devastation.

“Are you game?”

“What?” Abra gave Franklin Moss a blank look.

One brow lifted. “To show me what you can do.”

What choice did she have? She lifted one shoulder. “I guess.”

“Come on, then. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

CHAPTER 8

For everything there is a season,

a time for every activity under heaven.

ECCLESIASTES 3:1

F
RANKLIN
M
OSS
KEPT
a hand beneath Abra’s elbow as they went out Lilith Stark’s front door. Abra had the feeling he thought she’d bolt. It entered her mind, but where would she go? Run off into the dark? Sleep on a bench somewhere? Then what? Return and beg Dylan to take her back? He would love that. Her stomach was quivering with tension. Was she making another wrong decision? Should she tell this man she’d changed her mind?

“I know you’re scared. I can feel you shaking.” Mr. Moss gave her a sad smile. “But let me give you fair warning. If you go back inside that house, Lilith will have Dylan drive you to the closest bus station. They both want to get rid of you.”

“How do you know?” Was Dylan merely carrying out his mother’s instructions?

“You know it, too.” He let out his breath in disgust. “That was the coldest kiss-off I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot.”

Tears began to gather and burn. Her breath came faster. Dylan had dumped her into the hands of an older man without so much as a warning, and out of bravado, she’d agreed. Mr. Moss put his arm around her waist and leaned down. “Don’t give them the satisfaction of looking over your shoulder or shedding any tears where they can see you. Hold your head up.” It was a command.

She obeyed. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing going with you.” Her voice quavered.

“At the moment, there is no right thing. There’s just escape.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “Hold it together until we’re out the gate. Then you can cry buckets and rant and rave. Just not now. Not here. Look up at me. Smile. Do it like you mean it. That’s my girl.”

A shiny new black Cadillac pulled up in front, and the young attendant in black uniform and cap got out. “Your coach awaits, Cinderella.”

Abra slipped in quickly. The trembling got worse. She felt cold all over. She clenched and unclenched her hands, half-reaching for the door handle.
See it through, you coward. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

She watched Mr. Moss walk around the front of the car. He talked briefly to the young man, handed him a folded bill, and then slid into the driver’s seat. “You’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz.” He sang softly, on key, and winked at her as he put the car in gear and punched the gas. As soon as he passed beneath the gate and turned left onto Tower Road, he spoke softly. “Now you can cry.”

Abra turned her face away so he wouldn’t see the tears pouring down her cheeks. She gritted her teeth. Her rescuer dropped a pristine white monogrammed handkerchief on her lap. She snatched it gratefully. “I hate him.”

“Not yet, but someday you’ll recognize Dylan for what he is. You can take some consolation. You lasted longer than any other girl I’ve heard about, and as far as I know, he’s never made any kind of arrangements for the others.”

“Lucky me.”

Mr. Moss glanced at her. “You’ve got spunk. I like that.”

She closed her eyes tightly.
I am such a fool.

“Give yourself credit where credit is due. You survived the scorpion and her son. They both grab hold and sting. Lilith feeds on ruined lives. It’s her business to know the latest and greatest scandal.”

How much had Dylan told her? Abra wondered. But then, who would care anyway? “I thought Dylan loved me.” She’d wanted so desperately to believe someone could.

“Dylan Stark is incapable of love. Forget him.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“Not easy. Necessary.”

“And if I have no talent? What then?” Would this man toss her out on the street?

His gaze moved pointedly over her body. “We’ll start with what you do have, which is very nice—very nice indeed.” He gave her a rueful smile. “Don’t look so scared. I’m not after what you think.”

Emotions still roiled inside her. Would he be as rough as Dylan? He was taller and broader. She didn’t feel like asking questions. Thankfully, Franklin Moss didn’t ask any of his own. He didn’t turn on the radio either. She’d never gone anywhere with Dylan that he didn’t have it blaring.

She looked away. Had Dylan ever loved her, even for a second? She’d only seen lust, sarcasm, and fury. She’d stayed because she was too ashamed to call for help. She’d stayed so she wouldn’t have to hear how she’d made her own bed and would have to sleep in it. She’d stayed out of fear. She’d stayed because she didn’t know where else to go. She’d stayed for a hundred reasons that made no sense, not even to her. Now, she felt lost. And the feeling had nothing to do with location.

This man handled a car differently than Dylan. He didn’t drive at breakneck speed, careening around corners, passing cars with inches
to spare. He drove fast, but with complete control. He didn’t beat a rhythm on the wheel, but held it firmly.

Was he really offering her a chance to salvage herself—or merely a change of beds? A cold wind of realization blew through her. Would it matter?

They went through a yellow light. “Do you want to go back?”

“To Dylan?”

“To whatever life, or family, you had before you met him.”

“No.” Even if anyone had bothered to try to find her, she wouldn’t have gone back. She’d never go back to Haven. “I didn’t have a life.”

“None at all?” He looked dubious.

“None worth talking about.”

“What about your family?”

“I don’t have one. I’ve never really belonged anywhere.”

He considered her words and her, then looked straight ahead at the road. “It’s one of the things I noticed about you first, that air of mystery. You stood out. You stood back, too, observing and observed.”

“Observed?”

He chuckled at her look. “You don’t believe me? The only reason no one came on to you is because Lilith said you were her niece. No one wanted to risk her wrath.”

“She would have been dancing in the street if someone had taken me from Dylan.”

“Then you don’t understand anything.” He gave her a cool look. “Even she won’t cross Dylan.”

They didn’t talk anymore. Remote, pensive, Mr. Moss sped through the streets of Los Angeles. She didn’t know where he was taking her and didn’t care. What did it matter now anyway? The buildings were bigger and taller, the lights brighter. Cars jammed a boulevard. An art deco theater shone with neon lights, the marquee boasting
Lady and the Tramp
. It had let out. People strolled along sidewalks. Her life had just fallen apart, but the world around her
went on as usual. If she dropped off the face of the earth, she wouldn’t even be missed. She might as well do whatever she could to survive.