Picture Perfect Read online

  He had never touched her like that, either. So softly that she wondered if she had imagined it, or if it had been the night air. "I'm not a coward," he whispered, coming so close the words fell onto her own lips.

  Neither of them knew how to kiss. They both turned in one direction, then the other, and finally they came together in a quiet sigh. Heat funneled up through Cassie, burning her fingertips where she touched Connor's shoulders. She was certain she would leave her marks.

  She opened her mouth to him, and when his tongue touched hers, all she had the power of mind to think was,He tastes the same as me .

  Years later, when Cassie thought about her profession, she tried to understand what exactly had made her choose anthropology. Unconsciously, she had made her decision at age fourteen, that night at the pet cemetery. But she never knew if it was because of the marvel the bones themselves held for her, or because of a first kiss under moonlight, or simply in tribute, since it was the last time she saw Connor alive.

  They stood in the cemetery for an hour, learning each other all over again. The moon turned them white, two ghosts lost in a kiss, glowing bones at their feet. Then they walked slowly back to Cassie's house, joined at the hand, this time with Connor leading.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TO celebrate the resurrection of Lancelot of the Dark Ages, Alex told Cassie he'd take her out to dinner. "Le Dome," he said, dialing a number he'd memorized. He glanced at Cassie. "You might want to straighten up a little."

  Of course she had planned to, she'd been buried in sand and plasticine all day; but it still hurt to know that Alex had found something wrong with her.

  "Louis? Alex Rivers. Yes, tonight; nine o'clock. Just my wife and I. In the back, please." He gently placed the phone into the receiver and lifted the skull from the dining room table, bending the jaw back and forth in mock conversation like a deadly parody of Senor Wences. "'S all right?" he mimicked.

  Cassie smiled, she couldn't help it. "'S all right." She wrapped her arms around herself, wondering what she would find in her closet to wear.

  But to her surprise, Alex followed her into the bedroom and opened her closet. He found a three-piece gray silk suit, cut in simple lines, and tossed it onto the bed. "There you go," he said, as if he did this all the time.

  Cassie leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom and folded her arms. "Do I get to pick for you, too?" she asked dryly.

  Alex glanced up, confused, as if he was only just realizing what his actions must look like. "Youalways ask me to pick," he said. "You say I know what people are wearing these days." He began to put the ensemble back into the closet.

  Cassie bit her lip. "No," she said, stepping forward. "I like it. I mean, I didn't know. It's fine."

  She scrubbed herself in the shower until her skin was iridescent and her hair was laced with the scent of lilies. She sang "Hey Jude" at the top of her lungs and wrote her name in the steamed glass. When she opened the door, Alex was standing there, looking ethereal in the hot mist and smoky mirrors. He was naked, and this only embarrassed her more. She crossed her arms over her breasts and turned away. "I didn't know you were in here," she said.

  "I could have heard you singing in San Diego," Alex said. He smiled and caught her wrists, pulling her hands free. "I've seen it all before," he said gently. He wrapped a towel around her hips, pulling her near.

  "I thought we were going to dinner," Cassie said.

  "I'm working up an appetite," Alex said. He traced the edge of her nipple with his tongue. "I'm a growing boy."

  He could do this to her, start a fever raging and make her blood ache. Cassie reached between them and guided him inside her, scratching at his shoulders in an effort to get closer. At some point the fogged mirrors cleared, and over Alex's bent head she watched them in triplicate, a chimera with tangled arms and legs, heaving and swelled with its own power. Her face was flushed, her damp hair strung around her neck. She reached out toward her reflection.My God , she thought.Is this me ?

  AN HOUR LATER THEY WERE AT LEDOME, MAKING THEIR WAY TO A quiet table in the back in between handshakes and promises for lunch and called greetings. For a Thursday night, the restaurant was crowded. Cassie stood nervously behind Alex, her hand curled into his, while he conducted business over other people's dinners. She watched him speak to a studio executive, and it took her several minutes to realize that Alex was carrying on a conversation about the weather in Scotland while the other man was discussing the advantages of syndication. Hollywood did not talk to each other, but rather at each other. Cassie couldn't help but think of three-year-olds who hadn't yet learned to share.

  While Alex ordered wine, Cassie screened herself with her menu. She already knew what she was going to have, but she liked being hidden. It seemed as though every table seated either a celebrity trying to look supremely bored or an ordinary person craning his neck to see what Alex Rivers was having for dinner.

  Alex pulled the top of her menu down with one finger. He was smiling at her. "This," he said, "is why we don't get out much."

  They had just toasted Lancelot when a woman slinked toward the table sighing Alex's name. Cassie leaned forward, breathless. She had believed Ophelia was beautiful, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight of this woman. Dressed in a floor-length sheer black sheath that wrapped her from her neck to her wrists, she threw her arms around Alex's neck. A slit ran the length of her leg and Cassie noticed she wore no underwear, just thigh-high stockings. "Where," she gushed, "have you been hiding yourself?"

  "Miranda," Alex said, nearly pushing the woman from his lap, "you remember my wife. Cassie, Miranda Adams."

  Miranda Adams leaned toward her, close enough for Cassie to smell the cloud of alcohol that hovered about her. She straightened, and Cassie was shocked to realize she could see right through the woman's dress. Miranda's nipples were dusky and triangular, and over her left breast was a series of birthmarks, or maybe a tattoo, in the pattern of the constellation Orion.

  She assumed Alex and Miranda had worked together, although it was difficult to picture. The only films Cassie could remember starring Miranda Adams had featured her as a bouncy, wholesome virgin.

  "We're eating," Alex said pointedly, and Miranda executed a little pout. She kissed him full on the mouth, leaving a ring of red lipstick that Alex wiped away before she even left the table.

  Cassie wondered if Alex had made love to her before coming to Le Do^me just because of scenes like this. He had wanted to, yes, but it seemed that he had also needed her to know that he was hers, no matter what. Even now she could feel patches of her skin that were warmer than others, still glowing with Alex's imprint. "Is she the one who was in your trailer naked?" Cassie asked.

  Alex's jaw dropped. "Where the hell did you hear that?"

  She wasn't sure; she thought she'd read it in a tabloid headline at Trancas Market:ANGEL SETS OUT TO HAVE A DEVIL OF A TIME . She smiled, just to let Alex know it didn't bother her.

  "Yes," he said, "she was in my trailer, naked, but my assistant Jennifer was the one who found her there." He leaned toward Cassie and kissed her softly, and they both turned in the direction of a bright camera flash.

  "Goddammit," Alex murmured, clenching his fists around the pristine tablecloth. Cassie thought of the shattered tile in their dining room table, the blood that had run down the side of Alex's hand; she found herself praying that he would not stand up and make a scene just right now. Alex pushed back his chair.

  He stopped as Louis, the maitre d', walked toward the table where the picture had been snapped and physically hoisted the diner to his feet. It was no one Cassie knew, but she realized that didn't mean much these days. The man had a half-filled plate in front of him, and a camera bag strapped to the back of his seat. Louis escorted him in the direction of the door, and then came to Alex's table, bowing. "My apologies, Mr. Rivers," he said. He pulled a roll of film from his pocket, unraveling it into a long shiny arc and laying it on the table. "And with our compliments, another
appetizer."

  She ate half of Alex's rack of lamb, and he ate half of her crab. For the most part nobody else bothered them, with the exception of Gabriel McPhee and Ann Hill Swinton, a rare pair of happily married young actors who swung by the table on their way out. Gabriel held their little girl in his arms, shifting her weight from side to side as he said hello to Alex. They talked for a few minutes, until the child started to scream and kick and people began to stare.

  As they left, Alex shook his head, as if he needed to become re-accustomed to the quiet. He picked up a spoon and studied his reflection, distorted long and upside down.

  "We don't have any children," Cassie said.

  Alex glanced up at her. "Did you think I was hiding them from you?"

  Cassie laughed. "I was just wondering. I mean, we've been married for three years, and, I don't know, you said I'm thirty--"

  "Oh my God," Alex said. "Not only do you have amnesia, you've also broken your biological clock." He grinned at her. "We might have kids, maybe down the road, but three years isn't that long to get to know each other. Plus, you head down to Africa for a month every summer, which wouldn't be easy with a kid. We decided to wait while our careers settled around us."

  Cassie wanted to ask him why they could afford three residences, but not a nanny. She wanted to ask him what would happenif . She thought about Ophelia, earlier that morning, smirking:You mean hedecided .

  She lifted her eyes, preparing an argument, but was stopped by the look on Alex's face. His jaw was tight and his skin was unnaturally pale. "You've been taking your Pill, haven't you? I mean, I never even thought to show you where they are."

  There was no way that Cassie could know he was thinking of his own father, and that damn model wagon, and of the fact that he had sworn off children because he did not want to turn into someone like Andrew Riveaux. Still, in that way she had of sensing his pain, she reached across the table for his hand. "Of course," she said, although she had not seen any birth control pills since she'd arrived home. "We decided."

  Alex took a deep breath. "Thank God," he said. He pushed back his chair and stretched his legs. "I'm going to go to the bathroom. I don't think anyone will bother you when I'm gone."

  Cassie rolled her eyes. "I think I can take care of myself."

  Alex stood. "Sure. Last time I let you out of my sight, you wound up at the LAPD." He walked through the rows of tables, turning heads. Cassie watched the easy movement of his body and the confidence that clung to him as closely as a shadow.

  She was so busy watching Alex that she did not see the man sit down at the table. He was good-looking, though nowhere near Alex's caliber, and slightly shorter and lighter of frame. Cassie smiled shyly. "Can I help you?"

  The man leaned forward and grasped her hand, whispering his lips along the edge of her wrist. "I've been waiting all night," he said, and Cassie pulled away.

  "I'm afraid I can't remember your name." Cassie sat as stiffly as possible in the chair, her eyes darting left for Alex's approach. She wanted this man gone by the time Alex got back. She wanted to get rid of him herself.

  "I'm devastated. Nicholas. Nick LaRue." He spoke with a strange accent she could not place, something that was neither Continental nor eastern.

  Cassie flashed him her brightest smile. "Nick, then. I'm afraid Alex and I are on our way out. I'll be happy to tell him you said hello."

  He reached for her wrist, pressing her hand to the table so that pulling away again would attract attention. His other hand began to dance the length of her arm. "Who said I came to see Alex?" he said.

  "Get your fucking hands off my wife." Alex stood behind her, and Cassie closed her eyes, instinctively sinking toward his heat. Suddenly she sat erect. Nick LaRue. He had been in that movie with Alex, the new one,Taboo . Their characters were best friends, partners in a jewelry heist. But she could remember Alex coming home from the set, stalking the house like a panther, anger seething from his skin. "He thinks his trailer should be closer to the soundstage than mine." "He's holding out for top billing." And what had she done? She'd poured Alex a drink every night, promised him that in ten weeks, or eight weeks, or six, he'd never have to work with Nick LaRue again, and then she'd given him herself to help him forget.

  Alex had taken off his jacket and Cassie felt it draped over her lap, warmer than his own skin. Nick stood opposite him, and Cassie stared into his eyes only to see twin images of Alex, drawn in rage. The diners at the other tables started to file out of the room like sand in an hourglass, and sure enough, when the last one had disappeared the two men each took one step closer.

  In the front of Le Do^me, Louis called the police. He would certainly not be the one to interfere, and even if he had been a foot taller and thirty pounds more muscular, he wouldn't have been able to choose a side. Both Alex Rivers and Nick LaRue were A-level clients.

  Cassie shrank back against the wall. She did not think anyone had ever fought over her before, and she wasn't sure if she should be flattered or sickened. She saw Alex's fist swinging forward and she closed her eyes, knowing anywhere the unmistakable sound of bone striking bone.

  WILL LIKED HAVING THE BEAT ON SUNSET. HE AND HIS PARTNER--a Hispanic named Ramon Perez, and this irony did not escape him--drove for hours at a time down Sunset and back, anticipating a summons. From time to time there was a drug bust, a construction detail, an occasional robbery, but more often Will just stared out the window and waited for action. Yesterday he'd gone into Cassie's church and lit a candle for her. He sat in a pew in the back, whispering a one-way conversation to her God that basically hoped she was doing all right.

  "Hey, Crazy," Ramon said. "Wake the fuck up."

  Ramon still insisted on calling him Crazy Horse, which Will did not find funny and which he'd warned him against several times, to no avail. "I wasn't sleeping," Will said.

  "Yeah, well, then tell me where we were just dispatched."

  Will turned his face to stare out the window.

  "Le Do^me," Ramon said. "Le Goddamn Dome. Two hot-shit movie stars having a fight."

  Will sat up and pulled his regulation hat low on his head while Ramon read him the off-the-book code on celebrity disturbances.You don't rough them up. You call them Mr. So-and-so. You never bring them down to the station. You don't borrow trouble .

  Le Dome was a simple little place, but fifty people milled in front of its doors, some spilling into the valet parking lot. Ramon pushed past the crowd into the restaurant, nodding to a small, nervous man in a tuxedo. "I'm Officer Perez," he said. "What seems to be the problem?"

  Will shook his head. Any asshole could follow the sounds of breaking glass and landed punches toward the back of the restaurant. Will walked past the maitre d' through the main area of the restaurant until he saw Alex Rivers beating the shit out of his most recent co-star.

  He pulled Alex Rivers off Nick LaRue just as Ramon came into the room. "Get that one," Will said. He pushed Rivers out of LaRue's line of sight, and then he noticed Cassie. She was pressed against the wall as if she'd been hoping it might swallow her. She looked beautiful, her hair down over her shoulders, her husband's blood spotting her expensive silk blazer.

  As she saw Will, she seemed to come to life. She stepped toward them, setting her shoulders beneath Alex's arm to take his weight. She had the grace to blush.

  Will smiled at her. "What are the chances of this happening?" he said, hating himself the minute he spoke, the minute Alex Rivers's eyes slid to Cassie, thinned with suspicion.

  "Excuse us," Cassie murmured, leading Alex toward a chair. She shrugged out of her jacket and held a white cloth napkin to a gash under Alex's lip. Will watched the slender muscles of her arms.

  "You let him sit with you," Alex sneered. "You let that piece of shit sit with you."

  Cassie laid her hand on his shoulder, trying to estimate the price of peace. "Shh," she said. "We can talk about it later." She glanced around the room until she found a waiter. "Ice," she commanded.

  Ale
x ran his eyes up and down the length of her body. "Asking for it," he said. "Dressed like a fucking whore." He tugged her short skirt down where it had ridden up during the confusion, tossed her jacket back to her.

  Slowly, she lowered her hands to her sides. She folded the napkin and placed it on the table, slipping her jacket on again and shrinking into the chair beside him.

  You don't rough them up.

  Ramon walked over to Alex Rivers, addressing him by name and complimenting him onTaboo , as if he were just meeting him backstage. He helped Rivers stand and led him over to Nick LaRue, who Will figured either had agreed to apologize or was the biggest fool in California.

  Will sat in the chair vacated by Alex Rivers. It was still warm. When Cassie kept looking straight ahead, her brow furrowed like she was working through a puzzle only she could see, Will touched her knee. "Hey," he whispered. "Things are okay?"

  Cassie nodded and swallowed hard. "He was fighting for me," she said.

  Will didn't know what to say to that. He thought of the Xerox of Cassie he had in his wallet, of the day he'd given her back to Alex Rivers. He supposed he would have fought for her too.

  Will smiled at her, letting silence soak the space between them. "I saw pictures of the hand," he said finally.

  Cassie turned her palm over in her lap so it lay facing up. She flexed the fingers, making a fist, and then stretched them open and stared, as if she was trying to read her own future.

  The Riverses' driver barreled into the room, protectively drawing Cassie to her feet and letting her burrow against his side. "I was getting a pack of Camels over at Nicky Blair's," he said. "If I'da known, missus, I woulda been here."

  Alex Rivers turned toward them. John looked from his employer's face to Nick LaRue's. "Looks like you won, Mr. Rivers," he said.

  Alex walked over and grinned. As he bent his forehead to Cassie's, the driver discreetly moved away.