The Wedding (11 page)

Tell me about it. Allegra rolled her eyes, and then looked at her more seriously. Alan's right, you were terrific. I was very proud of you.

Me too, Alan said softly. For a minute there, I was afraid they'd trample you on the way in. The press and the media sure get out of hand, don't they? But the bodyguards Allegra had hired had done a good job, she thought, as she glanced over at them at their separate table.

The press scares me to death, Carmen confessed, not that anyone was surprised to hear it. And then Alan asked Allegra how her mom had been when she went over to see her.

Upset, I think, not that she'd ever admit it. She's too proud to ever let anyone know she was hurting. And she probably had mixed emotions. I know she was happy for my dad. But she's been pretty worried about her show and this won't help it. When I went over to talk to her, she was telling my father how great he is, and he looked very excited. I think the humanitarian award really meant a lot to him. More so even than the one for his picture.

He really deserves it, Alan said, and Carmen looked longingly at Allegra.

I sure would like to be in one of his pictures.

I'll say something to him, she said. He was probably interested in her too. She was a big name at the box office, and she had a rapidly growing talent. But Allegra didn't say anything to either of them about Elizabeth Coleson. It was the first time she had ever seen her father look quite that way at anyone other than her mother, but it was probably just professional admiration, and the look she had seen in her mother's eyes was probably just raw emotion after a very exciting night, full of roller-coaster rides of pride and disappointment.

They left Ed Debevic's at two o'clock, after talking about what it had been like to go to Beverly Hills High School, and what Carmen's childhood had been like in Portland. Hers sounded a lot more normal to them than theirs had been, and it made it even harder for her to adjust to the insanity of her life now with tabloids and paparazzi, and awards, and death threats.

Just an ordinary life we all lead, Alan said with a look of amusement as they got back into the limousine, and he pulled Carmen onto his lap, and she made no attempt to escape him.

Would you two like me to take a cab? Allegra teased. It had become even more obvious in the last two hours that they were both extremely attracted to each other.

How about the trunk? Alan asked, and Allegra got into the car and gave him a shove, as Carmen laughed at both of them. In some ways, she envied them their long-standing friendship. She had no friends like that in Hollywood, no friends there at all in fact, except for Allegra. The only people she knew were the people she had worked with, and she never saw them after she finished a picture. They just moved on, and so did she, and one of the things she disliked most about her life in L.A. was how lonely she was, and how seldom she went out, except for evenings like this one, with a studio-appointed date, who was as bored as she was. And she said as much to both of them on the way home, as Alan looked at her in amazement.

You know, half the guys in America would probably give their lives for a date with you. And nobody in the country would believe that you sit home and watch TV every night, he said, but he believed her. His own romantic life was less exciting than most people thought it was, except for the occasional sensational brief affair, which always wound up in the tabloids. Well, we'll have to see about that, Alan said matter-of-factly. She had already agreed to go to his house in Malibu with him the next day, and now he was talking to her about going bowling.

Allegra asked to be dropped off first, and she kissed them both good night, and congratulated Carmen again, and then she let herself into the house, and was surprised to realize how tired she was as she slipped off her high-heeled sandals. It had been an exhausting evening.

Alan and Carmen seemed to be well on their way to a new romance. She was happy for them, and it made her think of Brandon again, as she walked into her kitchen and listened to the messages on her machine. He wasn't supposed to call, but there was always the chance that he had anyway, or had called just to tell her he loved her.

Three of her friends and one of her associates had left messages for her, none of them urgent or even important. And then, finally, there was a message from Brandon. He had just called to say that he'd had a great time with the girls, and would talk to her on Sunday. He never mentioned the awards, hadn't watched them on television, didn't know or say anything about Carmen or her father. And it suddenly made her feel lonely again, listening to him. It was as though he was never really a part of her life, except when he chose to be, and even then only to the extent that he dared enter into it, which was never very far, or very deep. He was always a tourist. And no matter how much she felt for him, or how long their relationship went on, there was always a carefully maintained distance between them.

She nipped off the machine, and walked slowly into her bedroom, taking the pins out of her hair. It cascaded down her back, and she wasn't sure why, but there were tears in her eyes as she unzipped her dress and dropped it over the back of a chair. She was twenty-nine years old, and she wasn't even sure that any man had ever really loved her. It was an odd feeling of solitude as she stood naked in front of the mirrors in her dressing room, wondering if Brandon loved her, if he was even capable of pushing beyond the boundaries he set for himself, and being there for her, just the way she instinctively sensed that Alan wanted to be there for Carmen. It was as simple as that, Alan and Carmen had known each other for one night, and he was reaching out to her, without fear or even hesitation. And here was Brandon, after two years, like a man on a ledge, afraid to take the leap, unable to retreat, and not even willing to hold a hand out to her for comfort. She was alone. It was one of those shocking realizations that make you tremble with the terror of it in the dark of night, until you almost screamed. She was entirely alone. And wherever he was at that precise moment, so was Brandon.

The first call Allegra got on Sunday morning was from Brandon. He was going out to play tennis with the girls, and he wanted to be sure he caught Allegra before she left. He knew she was leaving for New York sometime that afternoon, and he didn't want to miss her.

How did all your little chickens do? he asked with interest, but it seemed odd to her that he hadn't bothered to watch the news. He could have at least done that, for her parents' sake, if not for Carmen's. But she didn't say anything to reproach him; she was just glad he had called her.

Carmen won best actress in a film, and my father won for best producer of a feature film. And they gave him a special humanitarian award too, which is a really big deal. It was terrific. My mom, unfortunately she sighed as she said it, remembering the look of worry and defeat in her mother's eyes didn't win anything, and I think it upset her pretty badly.

You've got to be a good sport in that business, if nothing else, he said glibly, and Allegra was suddenly angry at him. The fact that he hadn't been at the ceremony was bad enough, but she didn't like him being insensitive about her mother.

It's a little more complicated than that. It has to do with the life of a show, whether or not you win an award. She's been fighting for the show's survival for the last year, and this could lose them important sponsors.

That's too bad, he said, but he didn't sound particularly sympathetic. Tell your dad I said congratulations.

I will, she said, and then he went on to tell her about the day he had spent with his daughters. And the way he changed the subject started to bother her. Seeing the way Alan had treated Carmen the night before, and even the way he had treated her, had reminded her of how sensitive some men were, how solicitous and protective. Not all men were as backed-off, or as purposefully independent as Brandon. He was totally self-sufficient, and he expected her to be equally so. He didn't want her making any demands on him. They were like two parallel ships floating side by side, but with considerable distance between them, in one ocean. But the loneliness she'd felt the night before engulfed her again as she listened to him. More and more lately, she was feeling anxious about their relationship, and abandoned whenever he wasn't there for her. She had always wanted a relationship like the one her parents shared, but she was beginning to wonder if she was even suited to it, or if she was just continuing to pick men who were unwilling to commit, as Dr. Green had suggested.

What time are you leaving for New York? he asked conversationally. She was going to meet a very important bestselling author. His agent had asked her to represent him for a film deal, and she had set up a number of other meetings in New York as well. She was going to have a very busy week, and expected to be involved in some serious negotiations.

I'm taking a four o'clock flight, she said, sounding sad, but he didn't seem to notice. She still had to pack, and she wanted to drop by and see her mother, if she had time, or at least call just to make sure she was all right after the night before. And she thought she should check on Carmen. I'll be at the Regency in New York.

I'll call you.

Good luck with your trial.

I wish I could get him to make a deal, it would go a lot better for him with the prosecutor if he would. But he's very stubborn, he said about his client.

Maybe he will at the eleventh hour, Allegra said hopefully.

I doubt it, and I've done all the groundwork by now. As usual, he was wrapped up in his own world, his own life, and Allegra felt as though she had to fight for his attention. I'll see you next weekend, he said, sounding regretful suddenly. I'm going to miss you. He sounded surprised, and she smiled at the phone. Those were the little hooks that kept her attached to him, ever hopeful. He was capable of loving her, he just didn't have much time, and he was so traumatized by his ex-wife. That was always the excuse. Trauma caused by Joanie. Allegra had explained it to everyone a thousand times. And there were instances when it was so obvious to her, and equally obvious to her that he loved her.

I miss you now, she said, her feelings raw, and there was a long beat of silence.

I couldn't help it, Allie. I had to come here this weekend.

I know. But I missed you last night. That was important to me.

I told you. I'll be there next year. He said it as though he meant it, and she smiled finally.

I'll hold you to that. But where would they be next year? Would he be divorced? Would they be married by then? Would he have overcome his fear of commitment? They were questions that still had no answers.

I'll call you tomorrow night, he promised again, and just before they hung up, he reached out and touched her heart. I love you, Al, he said softly.

I love you too, she said, squeezing her eyes shut. He was there for her, he just had his own fears and obligations to contend with. She understood that. Take care of yourself this week.

I will. You too, he said, sounding as though he was really going to miss her. It made her smile wistfully as she hung up. What they had wasn't easily acquired, but they were getting there, despite what other people thought. She just had to be patient. He was worth it.

She called her parents after that, congratulated her father again, and extended Brandon's congratulations. And then she asked to talk to her mom, and she could still hear the edge of sadness in her voice when she answered.

Are you okay? Allegra asked sympathetically, and Blaire smiled, touched that she had called her.

Oh, no, I'm going to slash my wrists this afternoon, or maybe I'll just stick my head in the oven.

You'd better hurry up, Allegra said with a grin, pleased to hear her joking about it, before they rip out the kitchen. Seriously, Mom, you deserved that award again this year, and you know it.

Maybe not, dear. Maybe it's time to give someone else a turn. We had an awful lot of trouble with the show this fall. One of the stars had quit, tired of it after nine years, and several of the others had asked for enormous raises when they renewed their contracts. Some of the other writers had left too, and as usual, all of the burden of the changes had wound up on Blaire's shoulders. Maybe I'm just over the hill, she added, sounding humorous, but something about the way she said it worried Allegra. It was what she had seen in her mother's eyes the night before too, and it scared her. She wondered if her father was aware of it, and if it concerned him.

Don't be ridiculous, Mom. You've got another thirty or forty years of hits ahead of you, she said optimistically.

Oh, God forbid. Blaire groaned, just thinking of it. And then she laughed and sounded like her old self again. I think I'll shoot for another twenty and then hang it up for good.

I'll settle for that, Allegra said, feeling better about her again, and about Brandon. She was in a much better mood than she had been the day before, and she almost wished she didn't have to leave and go to New York without seeing him. She would have loved to have spent a night with him before leaving.

She told her mother about the trip to New York, and that she'd be back at the end of the week. She always let them know where she was going.

We'll see you when you get back, her mother said, and thanked her for calling. And after that, Allegra called Carmen. She was not yet hysterical, but she was panicking fairly quickly. The press had laid siege to her front gate, and she said there were hordes of them, waiting to pounce on her if she moved a foot out of her house. After winning her award the night before, she was a hot item. The guards Allegra had hired were there, but Carmen was afraid the press would storm the house if she opened the gate to go out. She was a prisoner in her own home, she hadn't been able to go anywhere since that morning.