Bailey called Joanne to give her an update, told her they now had possession of several diaries, and would go over them for however long it took. Joanne, of course, wanted her hands on the diaries and asked Bailey to send them to her overnight. Eleanor Burnett would be none the wiser, she assured Bailey. Bailey shot her down in rapid fashion.
She and Chelsea settled into a routine, each studying the next diary to decide what was pertinent as they took notes.
Daphne remained in England for the next five years. She bought the cottage from the landlord and took a hiatus from films. Frank Teller and Victor Shannon inundated her with scripts, but she turned down every one of them. Eleanor tried to convince her to go back to Hollywood and continue her career, but she wouldn’t hear of it.
Daphne even got a job working in the cinema selling tickets. Eleanor wrote that some of the townspeople didn’t recognize Daphne from the big screen, but those who did accepted that she had private reasons for leaving Hollywood, and they left her alone. It was almost too surreal to read.
Bailey had tried to research this period of Daphne’s life before, but found nothing other than she had stepped out of the limelight and moved to England.
Chelsea was preparing dinner when Bailey came upon a crucial date.
“Hey, Chels. Come in here when you have a minute.” Bailey had propped her back against the arm of the couch and stretched her legs out while she read the diary and took notes.
“Let me get the chicken into the oven,” Chelsea said from the kitchen.
Bailey waited until she joined her.
“This is the day when the director, Frank Teller, and her agent, Victor Shannon, come to Banbury and bring the script to A Sheltered Heart.”
“Didn’t she win the Movieland Film Award for that?”
“Yeah. They still had to do a lot of convincing, I guess. Do you want me to read it to you?” Bailey asked.
“Why change a good thing? We have about an hour before the chicken’s ready.” Chelsea motioned to Bailey’s lap. “May I?”
In answer, Bailey shifted on the couch to sit upright, and Chelsea settled her head in Bailey’s lap.
“Sunday, 29 October 1961. A cold rain fell throughout the day. Daphne and I remained in bed until we came out for sustenance around seven-thirty to dine on grapes and an old bottle of champagne I’d rustled up from my batch…”
* * *
“What a glorious day,” Daphne said with a sated grin. She sat next to me at our modest table. In our modest home. I still found it hard to believe she’d been here for five years and claimed to have not missed Hollywood at all.
I plucked another grape from the bunch and fed it to her. Her lips lingered on my fingers in a move that radiated all the way to my groin.
“If you’re not careful, we’ll end up right back in bed,” I said with a groan.
“And you see this as a problem?”
I kissed her. “Not at all, love, but it might not be a bad idea to go out tomorrow.”
A sharp knocking at the door interrupted our conversation.
“Now, who can that be?” I checked my robe to ensure the sash was secure and glanced back at Daphne. She shrugged and popped another grape into her mouth. I opened the door. My stomach dropped when I saw who was standing there.
Frank Teller and Victor Shannon. They held brollies over their heads, but the rain had morphed into a deluge, and it hadn’t spared them.
I glanced back at Daphne.
“Eleanor,” Frank said.
Daphne’s face paled the instant she saw who our visitors were. She jumped up from the table and hurried over. “What are you doing here?”
“Please, come in out of the weather.” I moved aside for them to enter.
Frank and Victor leaned their brollies against the wall and brushed off their drenched raincoats.
“I apologise,” Frank said. “We’re causing a mess.”
Victor frowned at him like he had no reason to apologise. His reaction reminded me how much I despised the man—especially after the marriage fiasco. It was all I could do to keep from shoving him back out into the rain.
“Don’t worry about it. Let me have your coats, and we’ll dry them by the fire. Please, sit down.”
Frank pulled out a bound stack of papers from under his raincoat. He and Victor moved to the sofa while I draped their coats on the hooks near the mantel. Daphne sat down in one of the chairs. I was about to take the other, but she smiled and beckoned me over. I sat on the arm as she took my hand in hers.
Frank acted as if nothing were amiss. Victor, however, stared up at the ceiling. Good Lord, what did she see in him as an agent?
“To what do we owe this visit?” Daphne asked, not hiding her displeasure.
“Daphne, I realise you’ve been happy in England with Eleanor,” Frank said. “I’ve tried talking you into projects that have crossed my desk and thought you’d want. But I’ve never visited you in person, have I?”
“No.”
He scooted up to perch on the edge of the cushion, obviously anxious to tell her about the project. “This script I have is perfect for you.” He held it up in the air. “Absolutely perfect. I’ve tried to think of other actresses who could play this part, but you’re the only one who stands out for me. Please—”
“No,” Daphne said evenly. “I’m not coming back.”
“Honey, why don’t you hear him out?”
She looked up at me. “Because I’m very happy where I am. I have no desire to return to California. Ever.”
“At least hear what Frank has to say about the script, Daph,” Victor said in his nasally voice.
I never noticed until now how over-groomed he was. He was dressed in a fine silk suit. His hair was perfectly styled, and despite the horrid weather, not one strand was out of place. I glanced at his fingernails that were manicured and shiny from a fresh buffing. He looked like an agent to a movie star of Daphne’s quality, and I couldn’t help but wonder how much money she’d made him over the years. His referring to Daphne as “Daph” got under my skin even more.
Frank jumped in before Daphne had a chance to refuse Victor’s request.
“The preliminary title is A Sheltered Heart. The premise is about a Midwestern gal who leaves home to try to make it in Hollywood. She works her way to the top, but throughout the story, she has a drinking problem. One she doesn’t overcome until she loses the man she loved most in the world.” He rushed his words as though he feared she’d cut him off at any second. “She goes through a difficult rehab and leaves Hollywood behind to move back home to Ohio. And since it’s a love story, her man searches for her, and they live happily ever after. But at the meat of the script are her rehab scenes, complete with detox and DTs.”
Daphne squeezed my hand tighter and tighter with each word Frank spoke.
“I can’t play a part like that,” Daphne said in an almost whisper. She turned to Victor. “You of all people should know this.”
Victor shifted on the sofa. “I know about your family history, but listen to Frank. This part’s perfect for your comeback.”
Daphne jumped to her feet. “I don’t need to make a goddamn comeback, Victor.”
“Darling—” I said.
She cut me off with a curt wave. “No, Ellie. I’m not doing it.”
Victor’s face reddened. He stood up. “You need to quit hiding in the English countryside and get your ass back to Los Angeles. You’re an actress, Daphne. When you come back—and you will come back—she stays here.” He thrust his bony finger at me.
Daphne lunged toward him, but I gripped her arm to hold her back.
“Don’t you dare speak to me that way and don’t you dare think you have a say-so in my private life anymore. You’re fired, Victor. I can’t believe I’ve waited until now to do this. I was a fool to listen to you seven years ago. I almost lost the woman of my dreams because I listened to your meddling advice. No more. Get out.” She marched over to his coat by the mantel and tossed it in his face. “Take your fucking coat and get out of our house and out of my life.”
I thought his face had reddened before, but now it turned an ugly purple. “You can’t fire me,” he shouted. “We have a contract.”
“Which I’m sure my lawyer can take care of. He’s gotten me out of worse situations.”
She grabbed him by the elbow and pushed him toward the door.
“But… but,” he sputtered.
She threw the door open, shoved him into the rain, then grabbed his brolly and tossed it at him. He fumbled with it for a few seconds before catching it and flipping it open. With one last glare at me, he disappeared into the darkness. Daphne slammed the door shut. She stood there, her head lowered, her back rising and falling. I wanted to go to her, but something told me to let her blow off the rest of her anger.
She regained her composure and turned around.
“Frank, I’m not angry with you.”
“Well, that’s good, because I’ve been on the receiving end of one of your rants before. I’d rather not have that happen again.”
She gave him a tired smile. “I know you mean well, but I really don’t think I can take the part. Not only that, I don’t think I want to.”
He walked over to get his coat and placed the script on the mantel.
“Listen, I know we barged in without warning. It’s a lot to take in. At least do me a favour. At least look it over and think about it.” He patted the script and then addressed me. “Both of you.”
Daphne’s expression softened when he included me in on the discussion.
“I’m staying at the inn attached to the pub down the street. Victor and I were booked until tomorrow. I hope he got the hint and heads back tonight. If he’s not on his way when I get to the inn, I’ll see he makes it to the airport. I don’t leave until tomorrow afternoon. If you change your mind, and I hope you do, please come and talk with me. If I don’t see you by noon, I’ll know I have your answer.” He walked to me and pulled me close as he kissed my cheek. “No matter what, take care of my girl,” he whispered in my ear. He moved toward the door, embracing Daphne before grabbing his brolly. “If I don’t see you tomorrow, I wish you both the best.”
After he left, we stood there staring at the door as if it might pop back open at any moment with yet another surprise visitor for the evening.
“Tell me what I can gain by doing the film, Ellie.”
“Let’s go to the bedroom so I can hold you while we talk.” I led her to the bed. “What are you so afraid of, love?” I asked.
She played with the lapel of my robe as if it had all the answers in the world. “It brings up so much for me. You met my father, Ellie. You know what killed him. I’m not sure I can open myself to that kind of raw emotion.”
“There’s that. But what’s the other reason? Why have you avoided going back to the States? I’ve told you many times that we could move back and keep this place as our second home. You’ve always sidestepped my questions as to why we can’t go back. Since you’ve never answered me, I think I’ll answer for you. You’re afraid to return to Los Angeles because you’re afraid for us. Afraid that hectic life will tear our relationship apart.”
She jerked her head up. “How did you know?”
I caressed her cheek. “Because I know how much you love me and how much you want our love to last. I know you don’t want to take any more chances. You feel you’ve done that twice now, and you’re afraid the next will doom us.” I searched her face. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“No,” she said softly. “That’s it exactly.”
“You needn’t be afraid. You’ve shown your love to me these past five years. And there is no doubt”—I wiped away a tear—“no doubt that we’ll be together for the rest of our lives. Please don’t let the reason you’ve given up your career, given up something you’re so damn good at, be because of this fear. Because the fear has no foundation, Daph. I love you.” I leaned in and gave her the gentlest of kisses. “I want you to do what you were born to do. And that is to work in front of those cameras and give pleasure to your fans who have missed you.”
She gazed at me a long while in the dusky darkness of our room. “Do you think I can do this film?” she asked.
In answer, I pushed her down on the bed and laid my body across hers, hoping I conveyed everything I felt in my expression. “I think you can do anything you set your heart to. I have a good feeling about the part. A really good feeling.”
She tugged open the sash of my robe. “Take this off. Now.”
We hurriedly undressed but made love almost in slow motion, grazing our fingertips across each other’s skin, touching all of the intimate places we’d memorised in our time together.
An hour later, I held her in my arms. I’d almost drifted off when her voice nudged me from my languidness.
“I guess we’ll be seeing Frank tomorrow morning.” She shifted closer.
“I guess so.”
“Ellie?”
“Hmm?”
“I want you with me always, especially on the set for this one.”
“If that’s what you want, that’s where I’ll be.”
She tightened her hold and kissed my shoulder. “Good.”
* * *
“I’m glad she fired Victor,” Chelsea said.
Bailey set the diary aside. “Me, too. The bastard.” She raised her nose in the air. “Mmm. I think dinner’s ready.”
Chelsea stood up and pulled Bailey to her feet. “Come on. Let’s eat and maybe watch a movie. I want to wind down before going to bed.”
After they’d finished dinner, Chelsea went to her DVD collection and held up The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. “What do you think?”
“I think that’s a perfect movie to end the day.”
They cuddled on the couch and got lost in the film.
Bailey awakened to the butterfly flitting across the blank television screen. She tried to make out the small numbers on the cable box digital clock. It was after midnight. Chelsea had fallen asleep in her lap. Bailey stroked her back.
“Hon, it’s late. Let’s go to bed.”
Chelsea squirmed and mumbled but didn’t awaken. Bailey nudged her a little harder this time.
“Chels, come on.”
Chelsea slowly awakened, rose, and stretched. “I didn’t mean to doze off on you.”
“Don’t apologize. I did the same thing. Just woke up.” Bailey switched off the DVD player and television. She turned around and found Chelsea looking at her intently.
“Do you remember when we first watched this movie together?” Chelsea walked slowly toward her and placed her hands on her chest. “Do you remember that night?”
Bailey swallowed hard when Chelsea’s eyes darkened with desire. “How could I forget? When you told that story to Eleanor, it brought it all back to me.”
“And now?”
“Now I want nothing more than to take you to bed. I think I know the way this time, though,” Bailey said with a smile. She led them down the hall to the bedroom.
Chelsea switched on the bedside lamp. The want in Bailey’s eyes made the throbbing between her legs almost painful.
“I know we said we’d go slow. If you don’t want to do this, tell me to stop,” Bailey whispered as she hooked her thumbs under Chelsea’s T-shirt.
Chelsea’s answer was to push Bailey’s hands away and tug the T-shirt off. Bailey reached around and unhooked her bra. She stepped back and gazed at Chelsea’s breasts.
“Oh, God, Chels.” Bailey took a nipple in her mouth. Chelsea put her hand behind Bailey’s head and pulled her in even tighter.
“Bailey, please…”
Bailey pushed her back to the bed and slid off Chelsea’s shorts and panties. She quickly undressed.
Chelsea stared at the lean body of the woman she knew so well. Bailey’s breasts were as firm and high as Chelsea remembered.
Bailey lay on top of her, and Chelsea got even wetter as their nipples pressed together. Bailey reclaimed Chelsea’s mouth and delved inside with her tongue. She didn’t stay there long, moving down to Chelsea’s breast, again running her tongue around her nipple.
“I need,” Chelsea tried to say between gasps of breath, “I need…” She grabbed Bailey’s hand and pulled it down between her legs. “Here. I need you here.”
Bailey ran her fingers through Chelsea’s wetness. “I’m going inside now.”
Chelsea cried out when Bailey’s fingers pushed into her and her thumb pressed against her clitoris. “Oh, God, Bailey. You know just what to do.”
“I’ve never forgotten you, and I’ve never forgotten your body.” Bailey took Chelsea’s nipple in her mouth again and sucked as she continued the rhythmic motion of her hand.
“I’m so close,” Chelsea’s hips jerked with each movement.
Bailey plunged deep inside. Chelsea slammed her eyes shut as her orgasm coursed through every fiber of her body. She clung to Bailey and held on until the last throbbing pulse subsided.
Bailey withdrew her hand. She moved her lips up Chelsea’s chest until she gave her the gentlest of kisses, just as Chelsea remembered each time after Bailey made love to her. A drop of water hit her cheek. Bailey was crying. Chelsea didn’t realize she was crying herself until tears spilled out and streamed down her face.
“Don’t cry, baby.” Chelsea sniffled.
Bailey wiped away one of Chelsea’s stray tears with her thumb. “I could say the same to you.” She lay down beside her and held her.
“I love you,” Chelsea whispered as she ran her fingers between Bailey’s breasts.
“Love you, too, Chels.” Bailey kissed the top of her head.
“You wiped me out. I don’t think I can—”
“Shh. We have plenty of time.”
They both grew quiet. Chelsea listened to the chirping of the crickets outside the open window for several minutes before breaking the silence. “What are we going to do?”
“About…”
“About us. I mean this is wonderful. It was always wonderful. But what about—”
“What about the other stuff? The time away from each other?”
Chelsea leaned up on her elbow to try to read Bailey’s expression.
“We’ll work it out. Nothing’s worth losing you again.” Bailey’s voice sounded firm in its resolve. “Nothing. I don’t care what I have to do. If I have to change jobs so we have more time together, I’m willing to do that.”
Chelsea kissed her. “No one is giving up their job. It would cause resentment, and we wouldn’t last long at all. You’re good at what you do. I’d never ask you to give it up.”
“I feel the same way.”
“We’ll make this work. We’ll communicate like we said we’d do,” Chelsea added with equal conviction. “Because I never want to be without you again, either.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. I don’t think I could survive another separation. As to where we live? My job allows me to live anywhere. I don’t want you giving up your position at the university. You’re on tenure track, and I won’t have you risking it.”
“What about the house in Denver?”
“We’ll sell it or we’ll rent it out, and I’ll move here. Tara’s always been in love with it. She told me once if we ever thought of selling, to let her know first.”
Chelsea lay back down in Bailey’s arms. “I love it when you get all butch on me.”
“Oh, so that’s what I’m doing, is it?”
Chelsea slapped her lightly on the stomach. “You know what I mean. I agree with everything you’re saying, but sometimes it’s nice having you voice your opinion before I do.” She grew quiet and listened to the sound of Bailey’s heartbeat. Her breathing had evened out to the point that Chelsea thought she’d drifted off to sleep. “Bailey?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think we should have talked more before we made love?”
Bailey chuckled. “Probably.”
Chelsea snuggled even closer. “Doesn’t matter,” she murmured as her eyelids grew heavier with each passing second.
Bailey blinked a few times and tried to take in her surroundings. The pale light filtering through the blinds announced the impending sunrise. She smiled as she felt the warm body stir beside her. Bailey’s muscles ached for all the right reasons.
She had wondered if she’d wake up in the morning and question her judgment. But feeling Chelsea’s body pressed next to her had righted everything in Bailey’s world. During their separation, it was as though she’d pictured life around her in muted colors. Being with Chelsea had brought everything back into sharp, crystal focus.
“What are you thinking?” Chelsea asked, her voice muffled.
“I’m thinking that I’ve been a damn fool for these past eleven months.”
“Don’t say that. We’re both one hundred percent responsible for our fifty percent of this relationship. Nothing more, nothing less. Which means we were both at fault.”
“What makes you so smart?”
“Well…” Chelsea swung her leg over Bailey and straddled her. “I do have those three degrees.”
“Mmm hmm.” Bailey stroked her hands up and down Chelsea’s sides.
Chelsea leaned over so her nipples brushed against Bailey’s. “But I’ve learned a lot in the nine plus years I’ve known you.”
Bailey pulled her down. “What’s the most important thing you’ve learned?”
“That my body molds into yours like a hand to a glove. But even more than that...” Chelsea placed her hand over Bailey’s heart. “Our hearts are meant to beat together, not apart. I’m lost without you, Bailey.” She touched her lips against Bailey’s, and the kiss quickly ignited their passion.
“God, how I’ve missed you,” Bailey said as Chelsea took her nipple in her mouth while rubbing the other nipple hard with her thumb.
Chelsea kissed a path down Bailey’s stomach. She planted a light kiss on her mound. Bailey remembered that signal well, and she willingly opened her legs. Chelsea spread apart her folds and gave her one last smoldering look before she lowered her mouth to Bailey’s wetness. She took her time as she ran her tongue along Bailey’s clit, never taking her fully.
“Please, Chelsea.” Bailey raised her hips, trying to push against Chelsea’s lips.
Chelsea answered her plea and sucked on her clit, not stopping her assault until Bailey climaxed.
Bailey weakly tugged on Chelsea’s head. “Okay, stop.” Chelsea gave her one last swipe of her tongue. “Jesus,” Bailey hissed.
Chelsea crawled back up Bailey’s body, leaned over her and kissed Bailey long and hard. “I forgot how good you taste, but thank you for reminding me,” she said with a sexy smile.
“Come here, you.” Bailey pulled her to her side. She brushed her fingers through Chelsea’s soft hair. Bailey had been wrong. Not only had everything righted itself in her world. The entire universe had shifted back into place.
Bailey must have drifted off, because when she checked the time, an hour had passed.
“I love watching you sleep.” Chelsea ran her fingertips along the side of Bailey’s face. “So at peace.”
“You. You’re my peace, Chels.” Bailey gave her a gentle kiss. “What do you have to do today?”
“I’d love to stay in bed with you, but I need to go into the office and work on some stuff for the semester.”
“I’ll catch up on my notes and jump ahead in the diary. I think the next important date would be when they start filming A Sheltered Heart. I’ll see if I’m right. Do you want to keep reading to each other?”
“I enjoy it, don’t you?” Chelsea asked.
“Of course.”
“Then let’s keep at it.”