Taking Chances (21 page)

Hearing Ellen call out that she was leaving, she swung her legs off the bed and went to say goodbye. But by the time she reached the sitting-room Ellen had already gone, so, turning off the lights, Michelle returned to her bedroom and lay down again next to Robbie.

She could understand Ellen’s resentment of her, God knew she’d feel the same were she in Ellen’s shoes, but sadly there was nothing she could do to make Ellen feel any better. After all, Robbie was her son, and none of them could do anything to change that. Nor would she, even if she could, for despite the anguish it was causing her now, there was nothing in this world that could ever make her wish he wasn’t hers.

Nor was she ever going to stop loving Michael, despite how deeply she cared for his brother. She hated to admit it, but Cavan was really only a substitute for Michael, and she just didn’t want to go on pretending any more. Now all she wanted was for her and Robbie to
be
with Michael, to be a family as they should be, and would have been, had she not gone off the way she had. But with the wedding only eight weeks away, she just couldn’t see how that was ever going to happen.

Chapter 10

‘STOP!’ ELLEN GASPED
. She was laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath. ‘Just stop! I’ll never be able to take this scene seriously again.’

‘But I’m only doing what’s written here on the page,’ Tom protested, his grey eyes simmering with humour, and Ellen collapsed again as he mimed the removal and throwing into the air of his head.

‘It says here,’ he pointed out, ‘“Chambers tosses his head.”’ He looked at her and shrugged. ‘I’m just trying to give you some idea of how this is going to look when it gets to the screen.’

‘Stop it,’ she cried, wiping tears from under her eyes. ‘Oh, God, what are you doing now?’

He was groping blindly around the floor, as though searching for something. ‘It says “Chambers drops his eyes,”’ he explained.

Ellen’s head fell back as she exploded into laughter again, then she shrieked and swung her legs onto the couch as he began crawling towards her. ‘There’s nothing about you being on your knees,’ she protested.

‘Correction. It says “Chambers doggedly pursues his aim.”’

Ellen’s ribs were aching. ‘No more,’ she pleaded. ‘I’m in pain.’

He sank back on his heels and looked across at her face, eyes bright with tears, cheeks flushed with
laughter
. ‘OK, a definite improvement on the way you came in here,’ he decided. ‘Because, I’ve got to tell you, I was pretty scared when you walked in the door. I thought I’d done something
real
bad.’

Ellen’s laughter was rising again. ‘You know, I kind of like the idea of scaring you,’ she teased.

His eyes reflected her humour. ‘Oh, you certainly do that,’ he said dryly.

She held his gaze for a moment, then, feeling herself starting to blush, she turned back to the script on her lap. The first thing she read was ‘Chambers drops his eyes,’ and her lips began to tremble again. ‘I told you,’ she said, ‘I’m never going to be able to take this scene seriously now.’

‘But it’s not a serious scene!’

‘It is so! It’s the point at which you challenge the editor of the
Washington Post
to print your story about FBI abuses on the Mexican border.
And
to name names.’

‘Which has got nothing to do with anything that came after,’ he pointed out.

‘Not true. It shows us at an early stage how committed you are to your work. It also shows us how things do or don’t get coverage in the press. And getting turned down makes you so mad and frustrated it causes your first major fight with Rachel, which in turn convinces her to give up her desk job and join you in the field. So I’d say it’s a pretty important scene.’

Chambers was grinning. ‘You’ve got all the answers,’ he said, stretching his long legs out on the floor and resting his back against the couch facing hers. ‘So, it’s an important scene, but the way it’s written, it’s dumb as hell.’

‘That may be so. Excuse me, did you just yawn?’ she challenged.

‘Who, me?’ he replied, still stifling.

She was grinning. ‘So how did it go last night?’ she asked. ‘Did Michelle get through her speech OK?’

‘She’s a pro,’ he answered. ‘And it was so brilliantly written, she could hardly fail.’

Since he’d more or less written it for her, Ellen threw a pen at him, which he caught and looked over with some interest.

‘What are you doing now?’ she demanded.

‘Looking at a pen,’ he answered, seeming surprised she didn’t know.

As her laughter bubbled up again she felt the ease and euphoria of these wonderfully light-hearted moments stealing warmly through her. ‘You’re in a crazy mood today,’ she accused.

His eyes met hers, and feeling her colour rising again she looked away.

‘It must have been a good night,’ she remarked.

He shrugged. ‘It was OK. These things can get a bit dreary, but it was good catching up with old friends.’

‘Were there many there?’

‘Yeah, a few. Not a good show by the press, which was a shame.’

Ellen’s guilt immediately flared, as the publicist they’d hired for the movie had suggested they use the event to get some early coverage for Michelle in the role of Rachel, but Ellen had vetoed the idea. She wondered if Tom or Michelle knew that, though she was pretty sure they didn’t. She just hoped to God Michael didn’t find out, or it was going to mean yet another fight, which was all they ever seemed to be doing lately.

He’d wanted her to go pick him up from the airport this afternoon, but she’d had this meeting scheduled with Tom, which she might have cancelled had she not still been so angry with Michael for agreeing to escort Michelle to the gala. That he’d been unable to make it in the end didn’t matter, it was the fact that he’d agreed to do it in the first place, and hadn’t even mentioned it to her. However, she had offered to send a car to meet him, but, just before leaving the office to come here, she’d
been
informed by Maggie that Michelle was stepping into the breach. It was why she’d been in such a foul mood when she’d arrived, and the fact that she’d also been told that Michelle had gone to get Robbie from school so he could go to the airport too, had infuriated her to such a degree that she still wasn’t too sure exactly when she’d be ready to leave here and go home.

‘You’ve gone serious on me again,’ Chambers accused.

Ellen’s eyes came up to his and she couldn’t help but smile.

‘I’m not going to ask if you want to talk about it,’ he said, ‘because you might say yes.’

Ellen spluttered with laughter. ‘Do you think we’re going to get any work done here today?’ she enquired.

‘Sure,’ he answered. ‘You agreed the scene was dumb, so let’s talk about what we should change while I open a bottle of wine and pour us both a glass.’

‘But it’s only…’ she began, looking at her watch, ‘five thirty! My God, I had no idea it had gotten so late. Where did the time go?’

Chambers was at the refrigerator. ‘White?’ he said, taking out an expensive bottle of Chardonnay.

‘I guess I ought to call home to remind someone that Robbie has karate tonight,’ she said and, picking up the phone beside her, she got halfway through dialling before cutting herself off. ‘Let them sort it out,’ she said, as Chambers uncorked the bottle.

‘What time’s Michael back?’ he asked, as he passed her a glass.

‘His plane was getting in at three thirty,’ she answered, avoiding his eyes as she took her drink. Her heart was starting up an unsteady beat, and she didn’t really want to think about why. She couldn’t help but wonder, though, if letting him know that Michael was already home was sending signals she wasn’t even sure she wanted to send. But whether or not he was picking
up
on them was impossible to say, as his back was turned while he fixed his own drink.

Sipping her wine, she allowed her eyes to travel the length of his body in a way she’d almost rather die than let him see. But it wasn’t the first time she’d looked at him that way, because Matty was right, there really was something about him, and he had such an amazing physique that it was impossible to stop her imagination moving right through his clothes and conjuring up an image that was much more to her liking than it should be.

Lowering her eyes to her glass, she took another sip and wished Matty had never suggested that he might be interested in her, because it had been on her mind a lot since, and she had to admit that were it not for Michael she’d be finding him very hard to resist. But, in truth, no matter how angry she was at Michael, nor how attracted she was to Tom, she loved Michael far too much to put what they had at risk.

‘Oh God, here we go again,’ she groaned, as her cellphone started to ring. ‘If it’s Jackie I could be a while.’

It was Jackie Bott, one of the producers, but the call didn’t take as long as Ellen expected, as Jackie and the rest of the team were in the process of staking out their new offices over at Paramount. However, she’d barely finished before another call came in from Maggie, then another from the accountants, then another from Billy Christopher. Each conversation turned out to be as hilarious as the next, as Tom kept insisting on joining in and there weren’t many on the team who didn’t rise to the occasion of his wit.

It was after seven by the time she finally got up to leave. By then they’d managed to hack out half a dozen more scenes and had almost finished the bottle of wine. She knew she’d probably had too much to drive, but she was feeling much more mellow towards Michael now, and a little sorry that she had stayed here so long as another means of punishing him.

Chambers walked her to the door, and opening it turned to give her the peck on the cheek that had become their custom. But somehow it didn’t quite work, as they both made to lean the same way and entirely by accident their lips touched.

Ellen started to apologize, but as her mouth opened beneath his neither of them pulled away. The desire that suddenly flared through her was so intense it was like a pain, and as his lips lingered on hers she could feel her body’s urgent demand for more.

‘Sorry,’ he said, pulling away.

‘No, uh, I’m sorry,’ she said, unable to meet his eyes. Then, forcing a smile, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?’

‘Tomorrow,’ he repeated.

She passed him and started down the corridor. ‘Uh, tomorrow’s Saturday,’ she said, turning back.

He nodded and grinned, and rolling her eyes she made like she was firing a gun and went on to the elevator.

Despite the fact it was getting dark by the time she arrived home, the temperature still hadn’t dropped below eighty, even in the hills, and the moment she stepped out of her air-conditioned car she could feel the heat smothering her. She had deliberately thought no more about Tom, except to convince herself that it had been nothing more than a moment’s aberration and had little, if anything, to do with the real picture of her life. That belonged only to Michael.

As she started towards the house she could feel some nervousness mounting, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was because he might be angry with her for not going to the airport, or annoyed that she hadn’t called to check he’d got back OK. Of course, he could have called her, and the fact that he hadn’t could well be a sign that his mood wasn’t good, at least not with her. She guessed he was probably OK with Michelle though:
after
all, she’d been there to meet him, and had thought to take their son along too.

Swallowing hard on her resentment, Ellen foraged in her purse for her keys and opened the front door. She hesitated a moment as the sprinklers started up in the rocky flower-beds across the front of the house. It could have been the wine, or it could have been just the fact she had missed him so much, but right then, more than anything else she wanted all this tension to go away and to feel Michael’s arms around her as he told her he still loved her every bit as much as she loved him. Even thinking about it brought a lump to her throat, and, making a quick resolve to keep her jealousy and misgivings over Michelle in check, she pushed open the door and went inside.

Robbie was due back from karate any time so she guessed the empty house was down to Michelle, or Michael, or both, having gone to pick him up. She dropped her briefcase outside the study and, half hoping that Michael might be taking a nap after his long flight, she went on through to the bedroom. Though his suitcase was next to the bed, there was no sign of him, so, deciding to take a shower before he got back, she started towards the bathroom. It was a shame, she was thinking, that she couldn’t swim naked in the pool and let him find her that way, but with any luck he’d come back in time to join her in the shower.

Hearing a strange noise outside she stopped and frowned, not sure what it was or exactly where it had come from. She turned round, feeling glad that she hadn’t switched on the lights, instead allowing those from the garden to illuminate the room. That way, if there was an intruder, she could see, but hopefully not be seen.

Her heart was beating fast as she moved tentatively towards the window. The security system was off, but there was a phone next to the bed, and if there really was
someone
outside in the garden she stood a good chance of escaping through the front before they managed to get in. But there was no sign of anyone. The shadows were still, the pool was empty, and all the windows appeared to be closed.

She was about to turn back into the room when she suddenly noticed two half-empty glasses on one of the tables next to the pool. And then a horribly familiar movement caught her eye and as she looked deeper into the shadows she saw Michael’s and Michelle’s naked, moonlit bodies making fast, urgent love on one of the thickly padded loungers.

For a long and agonizing moment Ellen couldn’t move. She simply stood there, staring, unseen in the darkness, unthought-of in the deceit. In those few, mindless seconds, she told herself it wasn’t Michael she was watching, it was someone else. Then she thought it was Michael, but that she was dreaming. It was a nightmare and she’d wake up any second. She even thought that if she carried on into the bathroom, as though she hadn’t seen it, it would be like it had never happened.