Chapter Fourteen

 

 

Tess’ head felt leaden. Although she’d slept most of the night, it had been a fitful sleep. Aaron had tossed and turned beside her, revealing his anxiety, too.

What a week! Between auditions for the minor characters and chorus members and Aaron’s last-minute musical arrangement changes—with the aid of his synthesizer—he’d been a dynamo of activity. Exhausted and tense, he fell into bed every night like a soldier after night patrol in enemy territory.

For her part, Tess’ flurry of meetings with the labor lawyer, Guillermo Vega, and trips to pawn shops and jewelry stores in an attempt to get the highest amount of cash, plus supervising her apartment repairs, had all taken their toll on her nerves. She’d buoyed herself by spending four hours a day learning Sophie’s lines and practicing her musical numbers. The beauty of Aaron’s music lifted her spirits and she was grateful for his gift and perseverance.

Today was it. The day of reckoning. Today, she and Aaron would find out whether his musical made it to the stage or whether it died a premature death.

Opening her eyes, she found herself staring into Aaron’s dark blue ones. He looked troubled as he stared at her. Never one to beat around the bush, he appeared determined to get something off his chest.

“Morning, Tess.” His hand clamped over her bare thigh—her nightgown had crept up to her waist during her restless night—and remained there. He smiled weakly.

“You didn’t sleep much, did you?” she asked him.

“No. Today…well, I sink or swim. It all comes down to three meetings. Everything depends on the decisions of a few people. It seems so…unfair. So many people are depending on me to carry off this production. The possibility that I might disappoint all those…” His voice trailed off and he rolled on his back, keeping one hand on her thigh. The other arm covered his forehead, as if it took all his strength to face this day. Her heart went out to him as she stroked his bare chest.

“Tess, I know I haven’t—we haven’t made love in…how many days? All week?”

“It’s not important. We’ve been depressed, upset.”

“Yeah, but nothing’s changed between us, has it? Do you regret hitching your wagon to my…perhaps fading star?”

His head swiveled back to her and their eyes locked. She was silent for several moments while she carefully chose her words. There was so much she wanted to say.

“I thought so,” he muttered, removing his hand from her thigh.

Oh, brother!

Swiftly, she disabused him of such a crazy notion. She levered herself up and climbed on top of his belly, straddling him. Her naked bottom rubbed against his erection. Her long hair, plaited in a single braid, whipped around and smacked him in the face. That made him chuckle and flick the braid away. She bent down and kissed him deeply. Wetly. Hotly. Nibbled his lips before raising her head. By then, his eyes had glazed over.

“Is that an adequate answer?”

His broad smile assured her it was. Nostrils flaring, his eyes widened when she shifted her hips, positioning herself so that his stiff erection slid slowly into her. They both let out gasps of pleasure. Still, she remained clearheaded enough to want to address his rush of insecurity.

“Aaron…you know what this business is like. Overnight, you’re either a star or a has-been. Or until something else happens. You can be on the bottom and then, with a bit of luck, a quirk of fate and voila, you’re on top. And vice versa. If you can’t take the roller coaster ride, you better go sell insurance.”

“Well, I like you on top…”

She ignored his innuendo and fought the surge of desire welling up inside until she could convey her message. Time to cheer the team on.

“You’ve got to stay strong, Aaron. Remember what you’ve always told me. Strong heart. Clear head. Tough skin. That’s what you need in this business. That’s what gets you through life, especially the rough patches. You taught me that—”

He cut her sermon short with another stirring kiss, which carried them both to temporary oblivion.

 

* * * *

 

While Aaron made his rounds, pitching the money men, Tess drove around the valley. At Cartier’s on Rodeo Drive, she sold back her engagement ring and received in cash one-half of its market value, twenty-thousand dollars. In addition, she received another thirty-thousand for two diamond bracelets, one ruby-and-diamond necklace with a pair of matching earrings.

Fifty thousand dollars. Far short of the half million Aaron needed, but at least it was a start.

Feeling hopeful, Tess next met with her landlord, Nigel Bailey, in San Gabriel and paid him for the cleaning, painting and new carpets necessary to restore her apartment. Eight thousand swallowed most of her entire cruise salary, but she had agreed with Bailey that it was her mess to take care of. His insurance premium would have gone up if he’d applied for a claim resulting from the vandalism. Housing was expensive in the nice neighborhoods and she wanted to keep her apartment. Her fifteen-hundred a month rent was a steal and living so close to Marisa made her feel good. While there, she left Marisa a note, reassuring her friend that she was fine and staying at Aaron’s. If any suspicious strangers came around asking for her, Marisa was to tell them that she’d taken a job back in Palm Springs.

Tess intended to keep Porter’s minions away from Aaron’s place and she wasn’t about to trust Porter any longer. At noon, she took La Cienega Boulevard south, but stopped at a diner near Dodger Stadium for a tuna sandwich and Diet Coke. While there, she checked in with Aaron via cell phone.

“Any luck?”

“This Santa Monica investing group’s playing a wait-and-see game. They’ll come to premiere night at La Jolla and decide then. I told them I needed a commitment up front, but they’re not buying. Even my director, Steve Madden, couldn’t convince them and he’s a proven entity. My accountant’s meeting us at the Hyatt in downtown L.A., so maybe the three of us can make some headway. I sent the promo package to two other corporate foundations.”

Aaron sounded discouraged, so she tried to muster some optimism. “Who’s next?”

“The corporate guy that John Snider knew—remember the talent scout on the cruise who gave me his card? Anyway, he wants us to meet the CFO of Bio-Pax. They’re looking for a corporate sponsorship, and he and his wife are big theater goers.”

“Wow, sounds promising! Good luck, sweetheart.” She pumped false cheer into her voice but knew she wasn’t fooling him.

“What about you?”

“Making some headway, to borrow your phrase. I’m meeting with Guillermo Vega at one o’clock. He’s Marisa’s cousin, the labor lawyer. He’s been negotiating all week with Porter’s attorney. After he filed a lawsuit on my behalf, claiming breach of contract, slander and defamation of character, Porter’s attorney started returning his calls. This Guillermo’s a tiger.”

“Good, sounds like a kick-ass kind of guy. You hang tough, Tess.”

“Oh, yes. I hated to do this, but Porter carried his revenge too far. I won’t have him slandering my name and reputation—”

“Sorry, baby, gotta run. See you at home.”

Aaron rang off. Tess crossed her fingers, said a silent prayer and for good measure tossed salt over her left shoulder.

Refueled and replenished, she got in her Explorer and drove west on the 10 to Interstate 5, then due southwest on the 605 toward Long Beach. Near Cal State University at Long Beach, Tess found Guillermo Vega’s office in a stucco legal building off Pacific Coast Highway.

Suddenly nervous, she smoothed down the cotton, wild animal-print tunic she wore over white linen pants, and fingered the two, thick wooden bangles on her right wrist. This summer outfit was one of three she’d taken with her on the cruise and which, of course, had survived her wardrobe fire. She’d met Guillermo once before, the day after her apartment visit. Thanks to Marisa, her cousin had cleared his schedule to make time for her.

Guillermo, about Aaron’s age and as dark and handsome a Latino male as she’d ever seen, was a UCLA law school graduate. He was as fearless as a Mexican mule—Marisa’s words—and as tenacious as a terrier. He told her he’d plagued Porter’s corporate lawyer with no fewer than fifty phone calls over the past five days. He laughed when he told her this, clearly proud of his ballsy nature.

His secretary waved her through with a sly smile. That bode well, Tess thought. When Guillermo spotted her, he was on his Bluetooth connection, but he jumped up and gallantly showed her a seat as he continued his phone call.

“Don’t bullshit me, you cheap sonuvabitch! I know you’re worth at least fifty million, so don’t tell me you laid off ten minimum-wage workers because the economy’s tanked. In point of fact, your profit margins at least twenty-five percent despite the recession. Yeah, yeah, I’ve done my homework, so you think about it. I expect you to hire back at least five of those ten, and find slots for the other five at your other, more profitable franchise stores. These ten people have families that buy your crappy food. Think about that.”

The call continued a minute longer while Tess listened to his tough talk and watched him toss a baseball into the air, catching it barehanded. Finally, he hung up. His dark brown eyes leveled on hers after he indulged himself with a quick, admiring onceover up and down her body. Accustomed to male attention, Tess smiled blandly in acknowledgement. She couldn’t help but wonder how much of his tough talk was for her benefit and how much was for real. She hoped it was for real. A roaring tiger in her corner was what she needed.

“Did you know, Tess, I caught your show one night with Marisa and some friends,” Guillermo began without preamble, “You’re one hot, sexy gal with a great voice. You can sing R & B like nobody else I’ve ever heard.”

“Thanks. It was nice of Marisa to bring you.” She waited, hiding her impatience.

“A great voice…and now eighty-thousand dollars richer. If you’re willing to accept the asshole’s settlement offer, that is.”

“What! They want to settle out of court?”

The lawyer smiled, revealing a row of white, even teeth. Marisa was right. Her cousin could deal with the devil and come away owning a sulfur mine.

“They knew you’d win a helluva lot more in court. It’s up to you, Tess. We go all the way…but it might drag on a year or two before you see any money, during which time my legal fees mount. Or you can take a smaller cash settlement now.”

Tess’ first thought was that Aaron could use the money…now.

“I’ll take it now, Guillermo. And thanks so much.”

“Okay, I’ll make the call. You can pick up the check tomorrow.” He shook her hand when she stood and offered hers. “Oh, and pass my cards around to your show business friends. People in the entertainment business get the shaft more often than any other group in L.A. Other than my people, that is.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” she gushed in gratitude, accepting a fistful of his business cards.

Guillermo shot her the look, flirting with her openly now. “If you and this musician friend of yours—” he shrugged—“ever call it quits, let me know. I’m a single guy who likes what he sees.”

She returned a diplomatic smile. “Aaron’s a gifted composer and thanks to your…”

“Cojones?” he interjected, grinning.

“… your skills, he might have the chance to show how gifted he is. Guillermo, I appreciate your help so much! I’ll send you complimentary tickets to opening night. Marisa, too.”

On the way back to her car, she wanted to skip along in celebration. Instead, her heart and mind skipped instead.

Great! She’d just raised…let’s see, eighty-thousand minus five for legal fees equals seventy-five thousand. Plus fifty thou from her jewelry sales, she’d surprise Aaron with one-hundred-and-twenty-five thousand dollars! Not exactly half a million, but it was moving closer.

Her heart was lighter than it was early that morning. She hoped Aaron would feel the same.

 

* * * *

 

She used her new key to open Aaron’s front door.

“Aaron, I’m home! Brought some steaks and some Neapolitan ice cream to celebrate.” She carried her grocery bag straight back to the kitchen, deposited the steaks on the counter and put the ice cream carton in the freezer. “Remember how your mother would get Neapolitan for the three of us? She’d carve up the ice cream into threes, chocolate for Mac, vanilla for you and strawberry for me. She called it a way to make all of us happy with one carton of ice cream.”

No sound came from Aaron’s bedroom, nor from any other room in the house. Her chest felt like a vise squeezed her heart. She dropped her purse on the kitchen table and scurried to the bedrooms. Sitting on his bed, his cordless phone in one hand and a notepad in the other, Aaron looked up as she entered. He was naked except for his black briefs. The suit he wore that morning was flung on the bed, rumpled.

“Why didn’t you answer? You scared me—” She stopped when she noticed the expression on his face. “Who called? Not that Patsy again?”

Aaron blinked, focusing on her for the first time.

“This time, no. It’s not Pat. That was an attorney in Santa Monica. Do you know an estate attorney on Wilshire Boulevard?” She shook her head. “He wants to see us—both of us—tomorrow morning. I didn’t recognize the name. He’s not my parents’ estate attorney.”

“Hmmm, estate attorneys don’t sue…do they?” She began disrobing, her plan to switch to sweats for a long run. But only after sharing her good news.

Aaron barked a sour laugh. “If there’s one in all of Los Angeles County who does, that’ll be him. Maybe he’s one of Porter’s lawyers, suing us for… something or other. What’s that phrase? Theft of affections?”

Wishing to change the subject, for Tess could see that his meetings hadn’t gone well, she pointed to his king-size bed.

“You need to call that girl and explain the situation. She’s been calling you three or four times a day and leaving messages. After all, you slept with her in this very bed almost four weeks ago. She might think you’re still interested.”

He stood up and tossed the cordless receiver on the bed. “What, not returning her calls isn’t enough of an answer? What does it take, Tess?”

“For some, a straight answer, face to face.”

“Jeez, what can I tell her? Meet with her over coffee and say, I finally got the woman I’ve been in love with for years to come around… so hasta la vista, baby…it’s been fun but—”

She stripped down to her bra and bikini panties. “Well, yeah, only with finesse and sympathy.” His eyes roved over her, then pulled away. “C’mon, Aaron, you can do it. Have some coffee or a drink, and after you come back, we’ll celebrate my good news with steak and ice cream. Okay?”

“What good news?”

She approached him and laid a hand on his washboard abdomen. “I’m one-hundred-and-twenty-five thousand dollars richer and I want to be one of your investors.”

He backed away a step and narrowed his eyes. “What did you sell? Not the emerald earrings?”

“No, I was going to, but something stopped me. I did have them appraised and I can get fifty to seventy-thousand for them. Can you imagine? That’d be almost two-hundred thousand, Aaron! Not the half million, but close enough—”

He turned his back and shrugged on a pair of well-worn jeans, the hems ragged and the knees torn. “Forget it, I’m not taking your money.” A t-shirt went on next, then his sandals.

Confused, she grabbed his arm. “Wait, why not? I want to be an investor in the play.”

He whipped around and seized both her arms. His face contorted with a myriad of emotions that she couldn’t decipher.

“I won’t take it, Tess. The play’s not happening. The other investors—we couldn’t get them to commit until after premiere night. I don’t have enough to cover rehearsals. I can’t ask people to put in the time and energy if there’s no pay—”

“Yes, you can. I’ll do it for no pay. The others might, too.”

“Tess, union musicians and Equity actors—if they worked for nothing, they’d be kicked out of their unions. No, it’s over… the whole, damned fucking thing…you signed on with a loser, baby.”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Her lifeline, her savior was now walking out of the room, wearing a stormy expression bereft of hope. “Where’re you going?”

“To do what you want me to do, to meet Pat and tell her how lucky she is that I’m out of her life!”

He slammed the front door.

 

* * * *

 

Three hours later, he returned. He stumbled into the small living room, where she sat on the tattered sofa in her sweats. Stewing over why it was taking him so long to tell his latest casual sex partner that it was over, Tess sprang to her feet. He fell on her and took her into his arms, his breath smelling of beer and peanuts.

“Aw, Tess, forgive me. I was a jerk. I know what it cost you to offer me that money. You believe in me, in the play, in my music. You don’t know what that means to me.”

“Then you’ll let me be an investor?”

“And if it bombs and you lose it all, you won’t hate me? You won’t leave me?”

She smiled and kissed his boozy mouth. “No, I won’t leave you. And no, it’s not going to bomb. People’ll love it, Aaron, I know music.”

He lifted his head. “I got a call on my cell. The CFO of Bio-Pax played the CD I gave him yesterday of the music and the tape of our set. He even read the libretto and script, but he won’t commit more than a quarter mil. After premiere night, he said if it’s a crowd pleaser, he’ll jump in as a fifty percent corporate sponsor.”

Tess did the math in her head. “If I sell the emerald earrings, we’d need only fifty-thousand more. It’s close, Aaron, close enough not to call off rehearsals tomorrow. But only if you take my money—my investment.”

“I’ll think about it, okay?” He bent down and lightly bit her neck, meanwhile snaking a hand inside her sweat pants and panties. His thumb touched her nub as two fingers fondled her folds. In seconds, she was wet with desire, and they were breathing heavily.

With half a mind, she knew what he was doing, distracting her with sex. He was still afraid she’d leave him if the play bombed and all the investors pulled out. There was something else…

“How did it go with Pat? Did you tell her to stop calling you?”

“Yeah… I told her I’m in a committed relationship with a lunatic redhead I’ve been in love with for over thirteen years.”

“And?”

Aaron groaned and pushed his fingers in further. She gasped with pleasure, and began unzipping his jeans.

“Nothing much.”

“C’mon, tell me.”

He cast her a sly smile as he shed his jeans.

“She said I should be committed alright, to a lunatic asylum along with my lunatic redhead.”

“Oh.”

 

* * * *

 

While Steve Madden, Aaron’s director, started off rehearsals—an initial read-through of the script—at the rented high school auditorium, Tess picked up her check at Guillermo’s office before meeting Aaron in the parking lot of a high-rise office building across the street from the West L.A. Medical Center.

“You don’t look too happy,” she ventured. With a wan smile, he ended their hug. “How’re rehearsals going?”

“Good news and bad news. They’ve all read the script and they love it. The musicians won’t show up this afternoon unless I pay them upfront.”

She reached up and cupped his sad, handsome face between her hands.

“So take my investment money.”

His eyes crinkled with open affection as he grasped her hands and kissed the palm of each one. Spots of color appeared on his cheeks.

“I love you, Tess. Always will, you know that, but I won’t take a dime of your money.”

Bewildered, she replied hotly, “Oh yes, you will. You said last night you would. I’m an investor, just like Steve Madden. Just like Pete.” Pete had invested fifty-thousand of his own money. Steve, a hundred-thousand.

“I said I’d think about it. Besides, I’m not sleeping with them,” he said. “I’ll find another way. I won’t take the risk of you hating me if things go south.” He left her standing there as he strode angrily to the high-rise building’s glass entrance doors. She narrowed her eyes and stalked after him, holding up a warning forefinger.

“You won’t be sleeping with me, either, if you don’t let me invest in this production.”

“What, now you’re breaking up with me because I won’t take your money? Three weeks ago, you would’ve clobbered me for even suggesting I needed your money.”

“Things’re different now.”

“What’s different now?” His suit jacket opened as his hands flew to his waist and remained there, akimbo.

“I believe in you, your play, your work,” she declared staunchly.

His mouth dropped open. “And you didn’t three weeks ago?”

My God! It’s true!

He looked on the verge of spitting. She reached up to seize his shoulder, but he shook off her hand. “That’s not what I mean, Aaron. I love Sophie, I love your play and I love you. Three weeks ago, I wasn’t sure about anything.”

In apparent confusion, Aaron turned away. She grabbed his arm and made him turn back to her. If he wasn’t convinced of her belief in him, he’d certainly accept her show of greed.

“Don’t give me this male pride bullshit. Aaron, if we go to Broadway, I want a percentage of the profits. Do you hear me? I want to own part of this show.”

Aaron barked a bitter laugh. “Broadway? We won’t even make it off the Torrance High School stage. I’ve gotta call off rehearsals until I can arrange more backing.” He raked a hand through his hair and scowled.

Tess stamped her foot in exasperation, but followed him into the lobby. People milled around in small, hushed groups.

“So why’re we here? Who’s this attorney?” She spoke a little too loudly and a few people turned to stare.

Aaron led her to a bank of elevators, his expression tense and dark. “Don’t know. He called, said it was important, said he wanted to see both of us. Hey, who knows? Maybe I owe him money. The way my luck’s going, that’d make perfect sense.”

“Don’t be silly, Aaron.”

“You’ll see,” he wisecracked.

He was wallowing in morose self-pity again. His defeatism shocked her. She’d never before seen him so down and dejected.

“I wish I could kick some sense into you,” she snapped and stepped into the elevator after him. Three men in suits moved over and shot them sidelong looks.

“Be my guest,” he said blandly, his face a thundercloud, “Give it your best shot, Red.” He turned his backside to her and lifted up his rumpled suit jacket.

“Oohh,” she growled and yanked his jacket down. “If I had some leg room, I would.”

The three suits grinned. One snickered.

Well, at least some folks found humor in their predicament.