A
s my driver whisks us along the California interstate to my primary residence in the Pacific Palisades, I feel myself relaxing into the leather seat. Los Angeles is my home turf, where I made a name for myself in the cutthroat world of entertainment and media, and where I built my empire. Tomorrow night I will have to face the thief who is trying to destroy one of my closest friends, but at this moment, everything feels right. Especially, because with me is a woman who is everything I could have ever imagined in a partner. We are electric together, and with each passing minute, I feel more connected to her. Without thinking, I reach for her hand and interlace our fingers, something I have not done with a girl since I was a teenager, yet it feels perfect. She looks over and smiles, squeezing my hand. In her eyes, I expect to see excitement at our new surroundings, or even just tenderness, but instead, there is apprehension. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
She laughs nervously. “I’ve never really been outside of Chicago,” she admits. “I’m just taking it all in.” Although I never want her to worry about anything, her news pleases me. I have so much to show her. Most people don’t realize it, especially the tourists, but the City of Angels is a sprawling paradox. Some of the wealthiest and most creative people in the world thrive here, and yet some of the worst neighborhoods, and the gangs who rule them, are only miles away. Although I often travel all over the world, this city is forever my home, and I always return to it, to recharge and regroup.
“You’ll love LA,” I promise her, and she quickly glances away with a hint of what I think may be tears in her eyes. Something is definitely wrong, and a squeeze of anxiety tightens my chest. “Have I done something to upset you?”
Claire shakes her head but looks down at our joined hands. “You've been amazing,” she starts. “It's just…” She trails off, and I furrow my brow.
“Just what?” I ask softly, worried somehow, I have spoiled things in my excitement to be back in Los Angeles.
She takes her hand from mine and wipes at her eyes, frustration evident in her movements. “Maybe I'm just being silly,” she answers then turns her face to really look at me. The seriousness I noticed earlier on the plane is back. “What am I doing here? I’m a waitress from the wrong side of Chicago. You can do so much better.”
Instinct has me unhooking my seatbelt and sliding across the backseat to take her face in my hands. I look deep into her eyes and hold them. “You are what I want,” I say with emphasis. “No one has ever made me feel like you do. Do you understand?”
Claire nods. “I think so,” she answers. “Because I feel the same. But let’s be honest, things are a little out of balance here.”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” I insist, but I know she is not one hundred percent convinced. I suddenly realize going to my multimillion-dollar eight-bedroom mansion in the hills is not going to make this better. As much as I want to show it to her, to take her to my bedroom and make love to her on the rug in front of the fireplace, the place is enormous, extravagant, and therefore I imagine overwhelming. No, I need to slow down. Even Cinderella had time to process everything after the clock struck midnight. Claire deserves the same consideration.
I know what to do and, after kissing Claire gently on the lips, press the intercom to speak to the driver. “Change of plans. Please turn around and take us to the marina.”
“No, don’t change what you need to do,” Claire says. “Please don’t let me mess up anything. If you promise you want me here.”
I cannot believe how she doesn’t know how much she already means to me. Our connection is so strong it takes my breath away. All the more reason to do something different. “This will be better for our first night in Los Angeles, you’ll see.”
Claire’s eyes search my face before she nods. “Okay,” she says. “I trust you. Always.”
As the car navigates the busy evening traffic, I sit with my arm around her pulling her closer against me. She puts her head on my shoulder, and the next half hour is bliss. Even with no words, our closeness touches my heart, and I think I could sit with her forever, but we are arriving at the marina. As the car slows, Claire sits up, and I am happy to see a renewed sense of curiosity on her face as we go through the gate. “Where are we?” she asks, and I smile.
This is a special place for me, where I go when I need to clear my head of all the world’s craziness. “Marina Del Rey. I have a sailboat moored here.”
She turns to me, eyes wide. “You sail?”
“I do,” I admit. “Not nearly enough, I’m afraid, but I try to go out when I can. I thought it might be nice tonight though. If that’s all right?” She nods, clearly excited as the car comes to the dock. “Then, let me show you around.”
I look out the window to see my pride and joy. My Catalina 375 sailboat. Thirty-five feet of sleek beauty. It is like coming back to see an old friend. Beside me, I feel Claire looking out the car window too. “She’s incredible.”
“She is indeed,” I say while opening the car door before the driver gets to it. “Come on, you'll love her, I just know it.”
Claire joins me, and I lead her to my slip. “Water's Edge
,” she murmurs as she reads the ship's name scrawled across the back.
“Like it?”
She nods. “Perfect for you.”
I grin like a proud parent and help her aboard. Everything is in its place and well-kept, which pleases me. My team has done a perfect job maintaining this part of my life too. I make a note to reward them, then take Claire's hand. “Come below. I want you to see this.” We duck inside, and she stops at the bottom of the steps to stare for a moment. I try to see it through her eyes and cannot help but smile. Everything a person would ever need is here, but compact. Perhaps I love coming here because it is such an orderly and efficient space.
“Madison,” Claire says, finally moving deeper inside and running her fingers along the gleaming teak wood table, then the back of the cream leather bench seat. “I absolutely love this.” I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding and step closer to her, wrapping my arms around her waist to pull her against me.
“I hoped you would. Shall we go for a late-night sail around the harbor? I want to show you the stars once we get out past the city lights.”
Her eyes widen. “Can we? Do you have a crew?”
“Not necessary,” I explain. “The Water’s Edge
is just small enough I can take her out solo. Unless I am racing her.”
Claire laughs. “Of course, you race,” she says and puts her arms around my neck before kissing me. Her lips on mine feel as perfect as always, and what may have been meant to be a tender thank you, quickly is more passionate. The thought of taking her to my cabin and undressing her crosses my mind, but if we want to go out tonight, I have to contain myself. Breaking the embrace with a bit of regret, I look into her eyes. There is so much affection in them, I pause. Something special is happening between us, and I have sudden doubts about taking her with me to the gala tomorrow. If anything should happen to her… “What are you thinking?” she asks, and I know I've been caught. She already knows me so well.
“About tomorrow night,” I admit. “I’m worried for you.”
Claire touches my face, running her thumb over my cheek. “And I’m worried for you,” she says. “Please don’t go without me.”
I sigh but know I can't resist her. If she only knew the power she already holds over me. “Yes, we make a perfect team,” I admit, and she smiles.
“Then let’s not think about it right now.” She gives me a peck on the lips and dances away. “Show me the stars.”
Laughing, I can’t help but adore her enthusiasm and know I made the right choice coming here. “I will, but first we need to make her ready. You can help.”
“Can I?” she asks, a gleam of excitement in her eye. “Will you show me?”
“Always.”