Crazy For You (29 page)

My reasons for leaving him aren’t good ones, but
they’re the only ones I have. All those songs he wrote about the
hooker—yes, they’re about me. Surprise! I turned to prostitution
for a brief time during our relationship, without Frank’s
knowledge, because I was trying to help him. Garrett-Hollander was
nothing more than a struggling bar band back then. I’d decided in
my warped understanding of reality that it didn’t matter where the
money came from so long as Frank had the opportunity to continue
his dream. I made a mistake when I decided to do it without
discussing it with him first. After all, ours was not a trivial or
casual relationship. As soon as he found out, he put an end to my
brief stint as a prostitute. But Frank and I couldn’t pick up the
pieces after that. He couldn’t get past what I had done, and I
couldn’t get past his anger.

I was Frank’s prisoner. A prisoner he hated. My
jailor had turned cold and calculating. After all, I’d been bad and
I had to be punished. Frank and I lived in a constant state of
turmoil for about six months, and it took me three of those to
figure out I was pregnant. Now I know what you’re thinking, but my
son definitely belongs to Frank Garrett. I’m one hundred percent
certain of that.

Fearing for myself, and the child I carried, I made
some really bad choices. The whole thing seemed simple to me—if I’d
told Frank I was pregnant he would’ve quit the band to take care of
the baby and me. I didn’t want that burden placed on my shoulders.
I was afraid he’d end up hating me and our baby for robbing him of
his chance to realize his dream.

Just after my arrival in New York City, and before
the ink had dried on the publishing contract, the opportunity to
sell the movie rights to my first book literally fell into my lap.
I sold the rights for a minimal fee in exchange for a small
percentage of the film’s revenue and to be able to retain some
control over what went into the screenplay. At that point, I wanted
to call Frank and try to work things out. But I’d learned that the
band had won this contest, one that afforded them the opportunity
to record an album. Since I’d left, Frank had started writing
lyrics. That was something he’d never been able to do in his entire
life.

The guys were scheduled to go on tour out west where
they would eventually start working on the album. I couldn’t
interfere with that. Music is his soul. It’s what he does. If I’d
called him and told him about the baby he would’ve turned his back
on the music to come to New York and do the right thing. I didn’t
want that liability on my shoulders.

Then again, maybe I was afraid he wouldn’t come. I
didn’t want to find out whether or not he’d turn his back on me. I
couldn’t have handled that any more than I couldn’t handle turning
my back on him. Granted, I didn’t handle the situation the best way
I could have. And staying away from him was easier said than done.
Some say I didn’t have a firm grip on reality back then. There are
those who’ll say I don’t have one now, anymore than I did back
then. But I say reality is what you make it. Yet, it’s never what
you expect or want.

~ ~ ~

From the disk titled “Kirk and Me”
~

Lyle Williams produced The Secret. The very talented
Martin Ford wrote the screenplay and in turn taught me how to write
one as well. At my first scheduled meeting with Martin, I recall
waiting alone in Lyle’s office. Even though I wasn’t writing the
screenplay I did have basic control over what went into it. That
meant Martin and I had to work together to set the framework of
what he would write about.

The lead actress hadn’t been cast yet and Lyle had
no one in particular in mind. The lead actor was another matter.
Lyle had his heart set on casting Kirk Bronson, the famous British
musician, as Ben Herrington. As you know, eventually he did. It
wasn’t an easy thing to accomplish. In the beginning, the last
thing Kirk wanted or intended to do was act.

While I was waiting in Lyle’s office for him and
Martin to return, Kirk Bronson came in. I know the stories that
have gone around about Kirk and me. Most of which are my fault. But
right now I’m going to set the record straight. When I met Kirk
Bronson I was almost five months pregnant, and like I’ve already
stated, by Frank Garrett. Contrary to popular belief, sparks of
passion did not ignite between Kirk and me when we first met. He
and his wife Sara were very happily married. And me, I was happy in
my own little dream world. It would be more than a year-and-a-half
before anything romantic happened between us. I won’t say it’s
because he’s unattractive, because he isn’t. But I didn’t plot and
plan to have an affair with him or break up his marriage.

By the time Lyle and Martin returned, I’d learned
quite a bit from Kirk. First, he had no idea they wanted him to
read for the part of Ben Herrington. He was aware they wanted to
use his music in the film, but he had no idea what the movie was
about.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Star of the movie?”

“Me?” I was flattered that he’d think so. “No. I
wrote the novel.”

“Really?” he asked, intrigued. His brown eyes
sparkled and his blond hair was long and silky-looking. It made you
want to touch it. But I didn’t dare.

I had wanted Ben Herrington to be the exact opposite
of Frank Garrett. And this guy was, as far as appearances go.

The door opened and Lyle and Martin came in. Seeing
Kirk, Lyle’s face lit up.
A little too eager to please
, I
remembered thinking of Lyle’s enthusiasm over Kirk.

“Kirk—” Lyle shook his hand. “—we have a sample
script here and we’d like you to read for the part of Ben
Herrington.”

“Mr. Williams,” Kirk said politely, “I’m a musician,
not an actor.”

“Ben Herrington is a rock-star.”

“Well, that much we have in common. However, the
person who portrays him will have to be an actor.”

“A movie would be great publicity for your
band.”

“If you would like to use our music, that’s fine.”
Kirk stood his ground. “But as far as the part goes…you’d do well
to hire yourself an actor.”

Lyle and Kirk bickered a while longer, until finally
Kirk said he was pressed for time and he had to go. I do recall him
stopping though, long enough to settle a quick gaze upon me. “It
was nice meeting you.” He smiled. “I don’t believe I caught your
name.”

Looking back now, I know Kirk was just trying to be
polite. But back then I saw something entirely different in his
gracious manner.

Be careful
, I’d coached myself, remembering
how friendly Frank had been in the beginning. “It’s Ms. Simon,” I
said curtly.

What I’m trying to put into words is the way I
could, all of a sudden, become so suspicious of people for no
apparent reason.

~ ~ ~

Frank pushed away from the desk and massaged his
forehead.
Poor baby
. She must have been so confused. Now
Frank wished he could have, or would have, been there for her.

F
rankie sat at the snack
bar, eagerly watching Rose prepare his breakfast. He looked on in
anticipation as she dished up his bacon and eggs. “Rose…?” She put
the plate down in front of him. “Is it Saturday yet?”

“No, Frankie. It’s Thursday.”

“How many days till Saturday?”

“Two. Now eat your breakfast.”

Candy came in. “What happens on Saturday?” She sat
beside Frankie and stole a piece of his bacon.

“Hey…that’s mine.”

“I’ll pay you back when I get mine.”

Frankie gave a grumbling response.

“So what happens on Saturday?” Candy pressed for an
answer.

“Daddy says on Saturdays we can send Mommy some
flowers.”

“You miss your mommy, don’t you?”

Frankie nodded. Candy felt sorry for him.

She finished breakfast and went to look for Frank.
They needed to talk about the Academy Awards. And she thought the
flowers were a nice gesture.

Surprisingly, to Candy anyway, she found Frank in
Roxanne’s study. “Frank…” she said softly. She entered the room,
hoping she wasn’t disturbing him.

“Hi, Candy.” He looked up from the computer screen.
“What’s up?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m just looking at the book she was writing.” His
eyes went back to the computer. “I never knew what she went
through.”

“I guess it just goes to show…there are two sides to
every story.”

“So what are you doing?” His eyes didn’t leave the
computer screen.

“Well...” She hesitated, hoping she wouldn’t have to
put too much effort into talking him into going out to L.A. “The
Academy Awards are next weekend. Have you thought about going? On
Roxanne’s behalf.”

“Of course, I’m going.”

“Frankie’s real excited about the flower thing on
Saturdays.”

“Well I have to keep her front and center in his
life. I won’t ever let him think she’s left him for good.”

“She would’ve liked that.” Sadness poured over
Candy.

“Stop talking about her like she’s dead. She’s not
dead.”

“Frank,” Candy said defensively. “I’m on your
side.”

He hesitated and then said, without looking at her,
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

Would wonders never cease? Frank Garrett offering an
apology. That was pretty amazing.

“Are you sure you’re doing okay?” she asked, and
didn’t hide her concern.

Frank finally lifted his gaze from the computer
screen. “All I know is…I want her back, Can. I need her to come
home.”

“We all do, Frank. We all do.”

He looked back at the computer screen, studied it
briefly then lifted his gaze back to Candy. “I want you to work
with me on this project,” he said, pointing at the computer
screen.

“Doing what?” She laughed skeptically.

“I want us to finish her book.”

“And who’s going to write it?”

“Well…for the most part, you are.”

“Me?” she said, doubtful.

“Yes, you.” He seemed confident about her
abilities.

“Frank, you’re forgetting one little detail.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m not a writer.”

“The cover of Bad Company would suggest
otherwise.”

Sure, Candy’s name was on the book as co-author, but
that didn’t make her a writer. “While it’s true,” she said, “we did
collaborate on Bad Company, but for all intents and
purposes…Roxanne wrote that book.”

“Candy, if we just try,” his tone sobered. “I know
we can do it. Let’s try...for Roxanne.”

That wasn’t playing fair. How was she supposed to
say no to that? “All right,” she agreed reluctantly. “We may turn
out to be a laughing-stock. But we’ll give it our best shot.”

“Was she really that out of touch with reality?”

“I guess you haven’t read everything.” She popped
the disk out and looked at it. Scanning through the others, she
selected one and inserted it into the disk drive. “This part she
wrote from a third person point of view.” Candy set the scene as
she brought the proper text up on the screen. “When you read it
you’ll see why. This was her state of mind more often than not.”
She couldn’t help thinking she’d somehow betrayed Roxanne’s
confidence by showing the passage to Frank.

~ From Roxanne Simon’s personal notes

While in her eighth month of pregnancy Roxanne had
dropped by Jerry’s office for one of her twice-a-week appointments.
She eased down into the chair, twisted and turned to find a
position that’d keep the baby’s feet, hands, or whatever off of her
ribs.

“How are you doing?” Jerry asked in that same
mundane tone he always used.

“Well…I can’t sleep at night, ‘cause I can’t find a
comfortable position to sleep in. Even if I could, the indigestion
would probably keep me awake. And, aside from the fact that I feel
like an inflated balloon...” She stopped long enough to sigh. “I’m
fine.” She forced a smile.

“How’s the movie coming along?”

“Kirk and I have been rehearsing. I think they’re
basically waiting for me to give birth so my scenes can be shot.”
Uncertainty washed over her. “I don’t know if I can pull this
off.”

“What does Lyle think?”

“Lyle thinks I’m going to be great.” She did not
share the same enthusiasm.

“Well I think it’s pretty safe to say that you can
trust Lyle’s judgment.”

“I just sometimes wonder if they might not be
expecting more from me than I can deliver.”

“Is that because you think Frank expected more from
you than you could give?”

“What is your fascination with him?” she asked. “Why
do you keep bringing him up?”

“Why are you always trying so desperately to block
him out?” Jerry countered.

“Who said I was trying to block him out?”

“Okay. Okay.” Jerry gave in. “We’ll change the
subject.”

“Thank you very much,” she said curtly.

“How’s the new book coming along?” Thankfully, he
abandoned the topic of Frank Garrett.

“I finished the first draft. Jason likes the
synopsis.”

“Well things seem to be looking up for you…but are
you sure you’re not trying to take on too much at
once...considering your condition?”

Roxanne checked her watch. “Oh, shit. I’ve got to
go. I’m meeting Frankie for lunch,” she said without batting an
eye. She rose from the chair easily, as if she weren’t pregnant at
all.

She had no idea she was in New York City, or that
meeting Frank Garrett for lunch was not something she’d be doing
that day or any other in the foreseeable future.

~ ~ ~

Frank lifted his guilt-ridden eyes to meet Candy’s
steady gaze. “Did I do this to her?”

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened, Frank.
It was no one’s fault. Some things just happen.”

T
hat night Frank dreamed of
being in an empty room with nothing but total darkness. He could
hear Roxanne’s voice softly calling out to him. He ran to every
corner of the room looking for her, but he couldn’t find her
anywhere. Her voice grew a louder as she begged him to help her.
Frank ran around in the darkness, searching frantically for
Roxanne. His efforts were fruitless.