Scenes of Passion (18 page)

“Tomorrow I'll pick up our wedding rings at the jewelers,” Matt said as they walked across the parking lot outside of the community theater. “We might as well wait to tell everyone that we're married 'til then. Is that okay with you?”

She didn't answer, and Matt laughed. “Mags, hey, where are you?”

Startled, she looked up at him, then tripped over a crack in the driveway. Matt caught her arm to keep her from falling. “You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, but he could see the strain around her eyes, and tension in her mouth.

“Dinner with your parents really blew you away, didn't it?” He pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. “I'm sorry. You didn't want to go, and I talked you into it.”

“Matt, do you love me?” she asked.

What? “You know that I do.”

She nodded, but her smile was forced.

“You don't…” Matt cleared his throat and started again. “You don't doubt me, do you?”

“Don't be silly,” she said and went inside.

 

Toward the end of the rehearsal, when Matt was up on stage for one of his solo numbers, Dan Fowler slipped into the seat next to Maggie.

“The Cancer Center at USC?” he said without any greeting.

Maggie felt the muscles in her face freeze. “Yes. That's where he was.”

“No, he wasn't.”

She looked at Dan, but he was staring up at the stage, at Matt. “All right,” she said, her heart starting to pound. “What are you accusing him of now?”

Dan finally looked at her. “I'm not accusing him of anything.” His voice was mild, but his eyes were flinty. “All I'm saying is that I called to verify his cancer story, and there was no record of a Matthew Stone ever having been at USC's Cancer Center.” He shrugged and stood up. “I'll leave all the accusing to you.”

M
aggie's hands shook as she dialed the telephone. It had been torture, waiting until noon—until nine o'clock California time.

Matt and Stevie were in the kitchen, making lunch, and she was thankful for the privacy that gave her to make this call.

A call that would prove Dan Fowler wrong.

An elderly woman answered the telephone. “Cancer Center at USC. May I help you?”

“Yes.” Maggie's voice shook, and she took a deep breath. “My husband was there a few weeks ago, and I need to check the exact dates of his previous stay for our insurance forms. Can you put me through to someone who can help me?”

“I should have that information on my computer,” the woman answered. “What's your husband's name, dear?”

Maggie told her.

“Hmm,” the woman said, and Maggie's stomach began to hurt. “
S, t, o, n, e,
right?”

“Yes.”

“I don't have a Matthew Stone,” she said. “Not this past month or any other time. Perhaps you're confusing us with the hospital at UCLA?”

“I'm sorry,” Maggie said, hanging up the phone.

Lies. It was all lies.

“Yo, Mags.” Stevie came back into the office. “Matt made you a salad. You want it out here or in the kitchen?”

Maggie just shook her head.

“Hey, ho.” Her brother crossed to the door. “Mail call! Here's big Joe, the friendliest mailman in the Western Hemisphere.”

He opened the office door and took a pile of mail from the dour elderly man.

“Hey, homeboy,” Stevie greeted him, holding out a hand. “Gimme five.”

Joe slapped a certified letter into his outstretched hand. “Sign for this one.” He pointed to the form. “There and there.”

At least Matt didn't have cancer. At least he wasn't going to die.

“Yo, Mags,” Stevie said, closing the door behind Joe. “Looks like this is that legal thing you were waiting for.”

She put her head on the desk and burst into tears.

Stevie stared. “Well, gee, I get kind of emotional when Joe leaves, too, but, he'll be back tomorrow, so—”

“How could Matt do this to me?” she said. “How could he put me through this? Pretending to go into the hospital, making me think he actually might die?”

“Is this another one of your acting things?” Stevie asked worriedly. “I hope?”

“Give me that goddamned letter.” Maggie snatched the envelope from his hand. She tore it open and with shaking hands spread the document out on the table.

It was the codicil—and it was the same as the one she'd found in Matt's briefcase.

He didn't love her. He was just using her.

Correction—he
had
used her, but that was going to stop right now.

“Do you have your car?” she asked Stevie, reaching for a tissue and blowing her nose violently.

“Yeah, why?” Her brother looked very nervous. “What's going on?”

“I need a ride,” she told him.

“Oh, yeah?” Matt came into the room, all smiles. “You going someplace?”

Maggie turned to look at him. How could someone who looked so beautiful do something so ugly? And how could she have been such a fool as to believe him?

His smile faded as he gazed at her. “What's the matter?” he asked.

“I know the truth,” Maggie told him. She was
not
going to cry in front of him, damn it. “You son of a bitch.”

Total confusion was on his face. “What?”

“God, you're good,” she said. Taking a deep breath, she forced back her tears. She'd have time to face the hurt later. Right now, all she let herself feel was anger. It shot through her icy and cold. “But you can skip the act, Matt. The codicil to the will came today. You don't have to fake it anymore. Obviously, you've won.”

“Maggie, you're scaring me,” he said. “What are you talking about?”

She scooped the certified letter off the desk and slammed it against his chest. “It's all right there in the codicil. But you might as well cut the crap. I know that you've already seen a copy of this.”

He frowned, pretending to skim through the document.

“Or maybe you only
think
you've won,” she told him, her voice shaking. “But maybe you lose. I'm going to file for an annulment.”

Stevie's mouth dropped open as he looked from Maggie to Matt and back.

“What are you talking about?” Matt said again. He looked stunned, confusion and disbelief alternately crossing his face. “Maggie, you can't be serious.”

“I'm dead serious.”

“What does this say?” Matt shook the document at her. “You know I can't understand this legal stuff….”

“You know damn well what it says.” She headed for the door.

He lunged after her, catching her arm.

“Let go of me!” Maggie bit each word off clearly.

“Yo guys, I think I better go,” Stevie said.

“No!” Maggie said.

“Yes,” Matt countered. “Steve, go outside, all right. Give us some privacy, will you?”

“If I don't come out in fifteen minutes,” Maggie told her brother, “call the police.”

Matt staggered back. “Oh, my God, do you really think I'm going to
hurt
you?”

“You already have,” she told him.

“How?” he asked, his eyes searching her face. “Christ, Maggie, tell me what this is about.”

She went out of the office and up the stairs.

“Maggie, talk to me,” he pleaded, following her to the room where she kept her clothes. “I love you, and you loved me. We're
married—
”

She spun to face him. “Not anymore.”

“Why not?” he shouted, desperation in his face, the codicil to the will crushed in his fists. “Damn it, Maggie, you tell me why the hell not!”

“Okay, fine,” she said. “We'll play this your way. Play the whole game out. The codicil states that you automatically inherit if you get married before the end of the fiscal quarter. But you can't marry just anyone. The conditions are listed quite clearly in the fifth paragraph.”

He smoothed the crumpled paper, and read. And realization crossed his face.

“Oh, bravo,” Maggie applauded. “One thing I can say about you, Matt, is that you truly are a brilliant actor. But save it for the Academy Awards, because I know you've already seen this codicil. I found a copy in your briefcase.”

“If it was there, I didn't know it,” he protested.

She laughed. “You know, I might've believed you. But combined with the rest of it…”

“What rest of it?” He was mad as hell now, too.

“All the lies.” She roughly wrestled her gym bag from the top shelf of the closet. As she spoke, she began pulling her clothes from the drawers and piling them on the bed. “All this time they were right, but I was stupid enough to believe
you
—”

“
Who
was right?”

“Angie—”

“
Damn it!
I should have known she was somewhere behind this!”

“
And
Dan Fowler.”

“He's not exactly the president of my fan club, either,” Matt shouted. “So come on, I'm dying to hear. What did they tell you?”

“That you're a liar,” Maggie shouted back. “And they're right! You
lied
to me, you bastard. You used tricks and lies to get me to marry you!”

“God, Maggie, you don't really think that, do you? I thought you believed in me, that you trusted me….” He voice shook and he broke off. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Damn it.”

The pain on his face was only an act. A tear escaped and slid down his face. It, too, was just part of his crap. “I never lied to you,” he said.

“Gee, I don't know,” she said as she packed as much as she could into her gym bag. “I'd call telling someone that you have cancer when you really don't more than a little
white lie, wouldn't you?” She turned to face him. “I called the Cancer Center, Matt. They never heard of you. You were never there.

“You told me that you never went out with Van, but I heard you talking to her about going parking at Wildwood!” She stopped to take a deep breath. “You
lied
right to my face when I asked you about her!”

“No,” he said, “I can't believe that's what you think—”

She plowed right over him. “But the biggest lie of all was when you married me.” It was harder and harder for her to hold back her tears. “You said you loved me, but I know that's not true. I know why you married me, and it has nothing to do with love.”

The look on his face would've broken her heart if she hadn't known it was all an act.

“But you know what?” she whispered. “I lied, too, when I told you I'd love you forever. Because I sure as hell don't love you anymore.”

Matt turned and walked out of the room.

He came back a moment later, carrying an empty suitcase. He set it down on the bed. “I'll get Stevie to help you carry your things out,” he said quietly. He was almost out the door when he turned back. “I thought you believed in me, Maggie. I thought you had faith in me. But why should you be different from anyone else?”

A
s Maggie walked into the auditorium, she saw Matt immediately, standing by the stage. He was dressed all in black, and he was surrounded by most of the female cast members. Still, he looked up at her as if he had some sort of sixth sense and could tell when she was around.

A wave of misery descended upon her, and Maggie knew in a flash that she would have to move away. She couldn't stay in town with Matt living here, too. It would be horrible to be reminded constantly of what a blind fool she'd been.

“Places!” called Dolores. “We're doing a complete run-through tonight, and we're taking it from the top.”

Maggie dumped her bag into a seat and tiredly climbed the stairs to the stage.

Aware of Matt's eyes on her as he watched from the wings, she found it difficult to concentrate on the show. God, any minute he was going to come out, and she was going to have to kiss him.

She had to stay mad. If she could stay good and mad at the bastard, she'd be able to get through this.

Matt watched Maggie and felt like crying. When had it happened? When had she begun to doubt him? Or had she mistrusted him all along?

If that was the kind of person she was, then he didn't want her. Good riddance. She'd done him a favor by leaving.

Up on the shoulders of the men's chorus, Maggie smiled dazzlingly.

Desire stirred, and he closed his eyes, angry at his reaction to her. She didn't trust him—and he
still
wanted her.

And in less than a minute, he was going to have to kiss her.

Damn it. He couldn't do this.

But the stage manager gave him his cue, and he went out onto the stage. The lights hit him, and there he was. Standing right in front of Maggie. Their gazes locked. Somehow his mouth opened and the lines he'd memorized came out.

She seemed so unaffected, so calm.

But as he pulled her in for the kiss, he saw a flash of anger in her eyes. His own anger began to build, and he kissed her hard, too hard, hating himself for still wanting her, and knowing that before the night was through, he was going to go to her and beg her to come back to him.

 

Maggie sat in one of the dark corners backstage, praying for the fifteen minute break between acts to end. She was using every ounce of her energy just being on stage with Matt—she didn't want to use it up confronting him offstage.

But he found her. “Maggie.”

He was backlit, and his face was in the shadows. She stood up, prepared to move out into the auditorium—anywhere, to get away from him.

But he caught her arm. “We have to talk.”

She pulled away. “There's nothing to say.”

He followed her onto the stage, out into the light. “There's
a hell of a lot to say. Come on. At least give me a chance to defend myself.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“Maggie, God,
please.
I love you.”

She looked up at him and saw his eyes filled with tears and all of her anger came roaring back.

“Good delivery. You sound
very
sincere. But the tears are a little too much, don't you think?” She pushed her hair off her face, working hard to keep her hand from shaking. “Give up, Matt. I don't believe you. Besides, you don't need me anymore. I won't file for an annulment. We'll get a divorce—after you've gotten the inheritance.”

“You really think that's what this is about?” he asked. “Money?”

She didn't say a word.

He nodded. “You loved me enough to marry me,” he said. “You owe me at least the chance to tell you—”

“I owe you nothing,” she said.

“How can you say that?” Matt felt sick. Did she really believe that? “You should talk to your sister. If you don't believe me, you should ask her. And I'll call my doctor at the Center—he'll call you. Or you can call him. I
was
there—”

“Forget it, Matt,” Maggie told him. “I just don't care.”

Matt stared at her. She didn't care. He was ready to beg, to plead, to
crawl,
but damn it,
she
was the one who had done him wrong. She was the one who didn't trust him. He was even ready to accept that she'd found him guilty until proven innocent if it meant he'd have her back.

But she didn't care.

The last bit of hope that he'd been carrying evaporated, and his heart broke.