Mythe: A Fairy Tale (47 page)

During the weeks following Manda’s birthday the media attention that Manda received dwindled further. Mikey and Josh had been right; people had short attention spans and when Manda and Richard didn’t do anything newsworthy they simply stopped paying the pair much attention.

By the second week in March Manda once again began to take the train back and forth to work occasionally. Richard had tried to discourage it, but sitting in traffic was wearing thin on Manda, even in the relative comfort of the Mercedes that Mark usually drove. After arguing with Richard about it for days, she finally put her foot down and declared that it was no longer open for debate. If and when the reporters and photographers were a problem Mark could drive her. Until then, she couldn’t see any reason not to use the train. The end result was that Richard, overprotective as he was, managed to arrange it so that he drove her home most of the time, either for a quiet evening at her house or after an evening out. She did take the train to work on most mornings, though she was sure that if Richard could have found an excuse to be at her house before work every day she wouldn’t be taking the train then either. He was so obsessed with her safety that she was surprised when he announced in mid-March that he had to go to New York for a few days to take care of some business he’d been putting off. He was reluctant to let her ride a train without him. For him to fly halfway across the country without her was unexpected. Manda was stunned when Josh casually revealed the reason for Richard’s trip.

“He’s been playing hooky so that he could stay here with you, but it had to catch up with him eventually. He’s the boss…he’s got responsibilities.”

“He’s the boss? What does that mean?” Manda asked, assuming that this was just Josh being funny. Richard had gotten tied up on a phone call and they were waiting for him to finish so that they could all go to lunch.

“It means he’s the boss. It’s his company. I thought you knew that. He owns the record label. Why do you think he’s always dragging us to see new artists?”

Richard’s call ended before Manda could answer and she spent lunch assimilating this new information. She wondered what else she didn’t know about the man she loved.

Of course, Richard wasn’t pleased about leaving her alone. He invited Manda to New York with him but she couldn’t get away from work just then. She’d already taken too much time off to accompany Richard to awards shows and charity events all over the country. Richard hesitated when she declined his invitation, reconsidering his trip, but Manda insisted he go. She assured him that she’d be fine…and that she already felt guilty about causing him to neglect his business. He reluctantly flew out alone on Wednesday afternoon, with his return flight scheduled for midday Saturday.

Manda went out to dinner with Emily, Andy, and the kids on Wednesday night. On Thursday Josh took her to dinner at a trendy downtown restaurant that David had introduced him to. It wasn’t really Manda’s cup of tea, nor did she think Richard would have liked it, but she enjoyed Josh’s company and it was a pleasant enough evening. The only sour note was when one very irritating photographer accosted them as they were leaving, insistently asking her where Richard was and why she was with Josh. He was alone and easy enough to ignore though.

On Friday morning three dozen roses arrived at Manda’s office from Richard. The attached card was short but caused a pleasant fluttering in Manda’s stomach.

“Missing you terribly. Dinner tomorrow?

All my love, Richard.”

The roses were especially fragrant and Manda placed them close to her on the desk where she could see them without turning her head. Throughout the day she kept catching herself staring at them and thinking of Richard.

David had plans with Josh that evening and Manda wanted to catch up on some things at home while Richard was away, so by unanimous decision they worked through lunch so that they could leave early. Josh had spent the day in the office with them, working on his computer, and when four o’clock arrived he was as eager to leave as they were.

“Let’s go, guys. It’s officially the weekend.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” David replied, logging off of his computer and grabbing his jacket.

Manda turned off her computer and retrieved her coat, slipping it on as David and Josh headed for the door.

“Come on, M,” David urged from the doorway. “You’re gonna miss the early train.”

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” she called after him, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She plucked a single rose out of the vase on her desk and sniffed it as she rushed after them. She caught up to them at the elevator, where Josh was holding the door open, waiting for her.

“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” he asked as they descended toward the lobby.

“No, you boys go play. While Richard’s away I’d better catch up on a few things at home.” She thought of the laundry list of things she’d been neglecting—with laundry in fact being one of the things—and sighed.

“And you sound absolutely thrilled at the prospect,” David observed with an amused snort.

“Life can’t be all fun and glamour,” she philosophized with a grin. “Sometimes you just have to clean your bathroom.”

“You know, you can hire people to do that,” David informed her, as if imparting great wisdom.

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard that,” Josh corroborated with a grin.

“True, but if you do it yourself it builds character,” Manda admonished primly, and then ruined the effect by laughing. “Though character may be overrated.”

Josh took his leave from them when they reached the lobby. “I’m gonna go change. David, I’ll meet you at 5:00. Manda, I’ll see you later.”

He strode off in the direction of the hotel lobby as Manda and David headed for the door to the plaza. Manda could see her train pulling into the station across the street. If she was quick she could just make it.

“There’s your ride,” David said, holding the door open for her. “You’d better run.”

Manda smiled her thanks and hurried out, rummaging through the side pocket of her bag in search of her commuter pass. She wasn’t paying much attention to where she was going and almost bumped into someone before she realized anyone was in front of her. She stopped abruptly, taking a small step back to regain her balance, and was about to apologize when the glare of multiple camera flashes startled her. Seemingly out of nowhere, a crowd of photographers closed in around her, snapping pictures and shouting questions about her relationship with Richard and with Josh. There were even a few shouted questions about David. Disoriented by the unexpected onslaught, she was grateful when David stepped in front of her, deflecting the storm slightly. Several of the paparazzi closed in from the sides, however, jostling her and knocking the rose from her hand. With a small cry of dismay, she tried in vain to catch the flower, but already unbalanced, she only managed to stumble over someone’s feet and fall to the ground.

She landed on the pavement with her hands splayed out in front of her. Her eyes watered and she gasped at the burning in her palms as the rough concrete scraped away a layer of skin, leaving her hands raw. David was immediately kneeling beside her, waving photographers away angrily.

“That’s enough! Are you okay, Manda?”

After the shock of impact, the pain in her hands quickly faded to a sharp sting. It was tears of embarrassment that filled her eyes now. She’d made a clumsy fool of herself and the photographers were eagerly snapping away. She raised one hand to shield her face and clutched David’s arm with the other.

“I’m fine. Let’s just get out of here,” she pleaded desperately. As David began to help her back to her feet, Josh materialized at her other side, blocking photographers in that direction and lending her his support as well.

“What happened?” he asked, both angry and concerned. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding.” He grasped her hand and turned it up to examine it. Manda turned the other one up as well. She hadn’t realized how badly they were bleeding. They looked as if they’d been dipped in red paint and she noticed with chagrin that she’d smeared blood on both Josh’s and David’s shirts when they helped her up.

“I’m okay. It looks worse than it is, I think.”

The two men quickly steered her back to the building entrance, where the security guard on duty was holding the door open for them and warning away anyone with a camera. Josh guided them to the hotel elevator.

“Let’s get you upstairs to our room and take a look at your hands. Mikey’s pretty good at first aid.”

Manda nodded mutely, still fighting back tears of humiliation. What a wonderful impression she’d made today! Her first solo encounter, without Richard or Mark to run interference, and she’d fallen down and skinned her hands like a five-year-old playing hopscotch. She knew Richard worried about how she would cope with the media and she’d wanted so much to prove that she could handle the attention with poise and equilibrium. A small, ironic smile played briefly across her lips. Well, the equilibrium part was definitely out, but she could still work on the poise at least.

She took a deep, calming breath. Okay. So she’d fallen down. In the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t exactly a calamity. And so what if she’d done it in front of a less than merciful band of photographic assassins. Manda took private satisfaction in this characterization for just a moment before her innate sense of fairness asserted itself and forced her to relent and amend the thought. Photographers. They were simply photographers, trying to make a living. So what if she’d fallen in front of them and now, in all likelihood, an assortment of unflattering pictures of her would be appearing in more places than she liked to consider? Manda cringed at that thought but quickly marshaled her resolve again. People fell down all the time. She wasn’t badly hurt, so why fuss over it? She just needed to lighten up and not take the whole incident so seriously. Manda’s internal pep talk lasted for the length of the elevator ride. By the time they stepped out onto Josh’s floor she’d regained her composure.

It turned out that Josh hadn’t exaggerated about his manager’s first aid skills. Mikey quickly and efficiently cleaned and bandaged Manda’s hands. When he asked her what had happened, both Josh and David launched into an explanation, but Manda cut them both off with a firm and decisive, “I stumbled and fell. That’s all.” David glared at this characterization of events, and Josh frowned his disapproval, but neither man commented further. They did both suggest canceling their plans for the evening in order to stay with her, though what this was supposed to accomplish was a bit unclear.

“I’m fine!” she eventually snapped, putting an end to their hovering, “and I certainly don’t need you two babysitting me. Give me a break! I’m going home and you two are going to dinner, as planned.”

David wisely decided it was time to leave—before Manda hurt her hands further when she attempted to strangle him, he explained—and Josh drove Manda home shortly thereafter. She protested at first, impatiently declaring that there was no reason she couldn’t just take the next train, or if not that, have Mark drive her, but Josh had insisted on driving her himself.

“Do you
want
my brother to disown me?” he’d complained, effectively silencing her. She was also unable to stop him from fussing over her like an overprotective nursemaid, so she simply endured in silence until he delivered her to her front door. Once there, she thanked him and, with an affectionate kiss on the cheek, wished him goodnight. It was with immense relief that she finally closed the door and flopped down into the safe haven of her favorite chair.

Manda’s good intentions for the evening dissolved in the face of changed circumstances, and her plan to catch up on household chores was shelved. Her hands were simply too raw and tender, making most manual tasks uncomfortable. Instead, she used her minor injuries as an excuse to indulge herself, ordering in Chinese food and curling up under a blanket to channel surf. She managed to dismiss the incident in the plaza from her thoughts...for the most part. Being away from Josh and David definitely helped, since while she’d been attempting to downplay the whole event, they had, in their anger and outrage, elevated it to the level of a major catastrophe. She would definitely have to try to calm them down before Richard returned the following evening. She didn’t need them getting him all worked up. She just thanked her lucky stars that he hadn’t been there to witness the whole thing. She’d never considered him a hot-tempered man, but he’d once explained to her that this was because he’d had over half a century to learn to control his volatile emotions. Josh had warned her that when his older brother did lose his temper, it was spectacular. Manda was reasonably certain that the day’s events would inspire one of his “spectacular” displays. He thought of her safety and well-being as his own personal imperative.

Manda sighed in exasperated amusement. He didn’t have the market cornered on over-protectiveness today. David and Josh had been almost as bad as Richard. Was it a Y-chromosome thing, she wondered, or was she just putting out some frail-damsel vibe that triggered their protective instincts?

Manda had wound down and was thinking about bed when she saw the first picture. She was flipping through the channels quickly, unable to find anything interesting, when she saw her own face flash by. She had to backtrack a little to find the station again, and when she did she could only stare in horror at the image that filled the screen. The narration was in Spanish and she couldn’t understand anything beyond Richard’s name, but the image was enough to tie her stomach in knots, though this time it wasn’t from embarrassment—it was the thought of how Richard would react. He would be frantic with worry. She should have called him to let him know she was okay, but she’d seriously underestimated both the speed with which the pictures would be made public, and the inflammatory nature of the images. The photograph on screen looked more like a photo from a war zone than a picture of the minor fall she’d taken earlier. She was huddled on the pavement, with one blood-drenched hand extended toward the camera to shield her face. Her other hand was clutching David’s sleeve, leaving a bright smear of crimson on his pale shirt. Her face was partially obscured by her upraised palm, but her eyes were visible, and they were wide and panicked. David’s expression as he knelt beside her was an unmistakable blend of alarm and anger.