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‘Rick, this is Miss Wilkins, who’ll be coming to the Brenton dinner with me tonight.’
Rick was astounded. ‘But you said—’
‘Never mind that. Things have changed. I want you to take her to her hotel now, and return there for her tonight. See you both later.’
He waved and stepped back as the car headed out into the traffic.
‘Did I hear him right?’ Rick called over his shoulder. ‘The Brenton dinner?’
‘Yes, what’s the big deal? I know he’d planned not to go—’
‘You can say that again. Travis gets on well with most people, but not that one. Brenton tried to ruin his big chance.’
‘How?’
‘His son’s an agent, and he had his own candidate for the role. Brenton did all he could to talk the studio bosses out of giving it to Travis. He failed, so then he set out to get him fired. Spreading rumours, bad stories in the press. Didn’t work. Since then it’s been armed truce. Nobody expected Travis to go tonight. But now he’s going so that he can take you. Lady, you must be really something!’
The habit of years made her begin modestly, ‘Oh, I don’t think I’m—’ But then her courage rose. ‘As long as he thinks so, that’s all that matters.’
‘You said it!’
Charlene leaned back against the upholstery. Suddenly she was enjoying this, despite everything.
Rick delivered her to the hotel, waited while she collected her key, smiled and departed. She knew he’d regarded the surroundings with surprise. It was the kind of hotel described as ‘budget’, which meant that she had a dormitory room, shared with two other women. It wasn’t ideal, but the place was clean and efficient, and she could connect her laptop to the Internet. This she did as soon as she arrived, looking up Travis Falcon, and growing more wide-eyed the more she learned of him.
The basics she already knew. He was the son of Julia Franklin and Amos Falcon of the international Falcon dynasty. But now she learned that he’d started his career on the stage, graduated to tiny roles in films before being pounced on by the studio and cast in the series.
There were hints that his private life was colourful. He was a playboy who never seemed to stay with one girlfriend for long. He indulged in flirtations, not love. But until now his liveliness had stayed within acceptable bounds. The nightclub picture marked the start of a new phase, and Charlene could see why his bosses were concerned.
Studying the photographs, she had to admit that he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. And the most charming. It wasn’t a matter of looks. His face had a magical ‘something’ that spoke of a lust for life, a readiness to dive in anywhere and try anything. He was filled with humour, sometimes bawdy, sometimes cheeky.
Actually, she mused, the man from heaven can be a bit of a devil. Good for him!
She remembered how he’d treated her that afternoon—kindly, gently, with warmth and understanding, and she thought she could see those things in his face. Most people would have missed them, she reckoned, but she knew better.
All right, he was making use of her. But in a way she was making use of him. It was a fair bargain. Now it was time to prepare for the evening in such a way that she would be a credit both to herself and Travis.
I ought to be grateful, she thought. Lee’s turned his back on me—
But the next moment she clasped her hand across her stomach, still slim despite her suspicions.
But things may change, she told herself. I won’t know anything until I’ve told him.
She refused to believe that he could have dumped her completely after what they had shared. There was still hope.
CHAPTER THREE
A QUICK visit to a nearby hairdresser and her dark locks were transformed, becoming curled and lush. The blue satin dress was elegant, closely fitting a slender figure that many women would have envied.
And yet there was something missing. Honesty forced Charlene to admit that. Whatever the magical ‘extra’ was, she knew she didn’t have it. She looked pleasant, but not special.
Nor could she recall ever being really special to anyone in her life. Even her mother.
Her father had been mostly absent, more absorbed by his work than his family. He’d died when she was five, and her mother had remarried a year later. She and Mark, her stepfather, had been reasonably affectionate in an undemonstrative sort of way, but she’d sensed even then that they meant more to each other than she did to either of them. Mark had a son, James, by a previous marriage, who lived with his mother. Mark had been immensely proud of him, often speaking of him in a way that made Charlene feel that she herself didn’t really exist. Even her mother, anxious to please her husband, had sometimes seemed to value James more than her own daughter.
Once she’d overheard them discussing the idea of another baby.
‘It would be nice to have a daughter,’ Mark had remarked.
‘We’ve got Charlene,’ her mother had pointed out.
‘Yes, but—you know what I mean. A real daughter—ours.’
She had crept hastily away and never mentioned what she had heard. The casually unkind words, a real daughter, haunted her ever after.
When she was fifteen they had taken a holiday together. Just the two of them.
‘Can’t I come?’ Charlene had pleaded.
‘Darling, it’s our anniversary,’ her mother had said. ‘Mark and I need to be alone. You can understand that, can’t you?’
Of course she could understand. She’d always understood why she wasn’t a priority.
So they had gone without her, and never returned. Everyone said how lucky it was that she hadn’t been on the plane when it crashed, but haunting her grief was the knowledge that she hadn’t been wanted.
Her mother’s parents had taken her in. They had no other children or grandchildren, and they consoled themselves by lavishing affection on Charlene. In their warmth she blossomed, and much of the pain was eased. She had two people to love, and she knew that they loved her.
But the knowledge of having been second best never quite left her. Her stepbrother was never in touch, which made her sad because it would have been nice to have a big brother.
She’d come to understand that she was moderate in all things: moderate-looking, nothing special; moderately talented, with skills that were efficient rather than glamorous. Her bank employers praised her with the words, ‘We need good back-room staff.’ And she felt that this was where she belonged. In the back room—of work, of life, of love, of everything. The spotlight was for others.
She had boyfriends, but none seemed to last long. The one she’d cared for most had turned out to be using her to get close to her best friend. Charlene had been a bridesmaid at their wedding, which had seemed to her to be a gloomy portent for the future.
Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, she’d thought, gazing at her reflection on the day.
But on the stage it was different. In the spotlight another side of her came to life, and she revelled in it. Her scenes with Lee had inspired the producer to say, ‘You two really make something fizz between you. Keep going.’
And something had happened, something that continued when they’d left the stage, that took them into each other’s arms, then into the same bed. It was her first experience of passion, and she rejoiced.
Lee hadn’t rejoiced. He’d been troubled.
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ he’d said hastily. ‘I didn’t know you weren’t … that you hadn’t … I mean …’
‘I guess I was waiting for you,’ she’d said softly, but that had seemed to trouble him even more.
She’d thought how nice he was to be concerned for her. The other thought, that he simply hated responsibility, was one she avoided.
But soon it would have to be faced. This afternoon he’d seen her at her dullest. Tonight she would present a face that reminded him of another time. And they would talk.
Her two room-mates, both pleasant young women, applauded her appearance.
‘Got a decent guy escorting you?’ one of them asked.
‘Travis Falcon.’
They whistled, as though impressed. But in the mirror she caught the look they exchanged, which said plainly that she was fantasising. Nobody who had to stay in this run-down hotel could ever attract such a glamorous escort.
She didn’t really blame them for not believing her. She barely believed it herself. Perhaps it really was a fantasy, and Travis would fail to turn up, leaving her abandoned.
In fact he was downstairs at that moment, looking around with horrified eyes. It was as bad as Rick had warned him. He hastened upstairs and knocked on her door.
It was opened by a young woman whose face registered total astonishment at the sight of him.
‘Is Charlene here?’ he asked.
‘Yes, she … Hey, Charlene—’ She turned back to Travis. ‘Are you really … really …?’ She seemed about to faint.
‘Yes, really,’ he assured her, stepping into the room and offering Charlene his arm. ‘Shall we go, my lady?’
To his delight, she slipped into the role easily, taking his arm and declaring, ‘Thank you, kind sir.’
From the way the other two stared at them it was clear that Charlene’s standing had rocketed. They came out into the corridor and followed the couple with longing eyes until they had vanished. Then they threw themselves into each other’s arms and screamed.
Charlene tried, unsuccessfully, to control her mirth.
‘Glad you find it funny,’ Travis said as they settled into the back seats of the car.
‘It’s myself I’m laughing at, not you.’ She chuckled. ‘Did you see their faces? A woman who can claim Travis Falcon as an escort is a woman to be reckoned with.’
‘Even if she’s poor enough to stay in this neighbourhood,’ he said. ‘You should have something better. Bad characters hang out here, and they’ll be very interested in that bracelet you’re wearing. Did Lee give it to you? If so, I commend his taste.’
‘No, it belongs to my grandmother.’
‘Are you wearing anything from him?’
She shook her head. There had been no gifts from Lee.
‘Then put this on,’ he said, holding up a necklace.
Even in the dim light of the car she could see that it was a glorious, expensive piece. She felt in a daze as he fixed it around her neck, his fingers touching her softly. She was going to a glamorous occasion, escorted by the most handsome man she’d ever seen, and she was determined to enjoy it. Whatever the future held, she would make the most of tonight.
She had only the vaguest notion of their destination, and her eyes widened as they reached Sunset Boulevard, in the heart of the most glamorous part of a glamorous city.
‘Where is this dinner being held?’ she asked.
‘At the Stollway Hotel.’
Her jaw dropped. The Stollway was among the most lush, lavish and expensive places in town. Next moment, they were nearing the entrance and she could see the flashing lights, the cars crowding in to disgorge gorgeously dressed men and women onto the broad red carpet.
‘I had no idea it would be like this,’ she gasped.
‘The PR department has made the most of it,’ Travis said.
‘But I thought it would just be a restaurant. This place is so big and … that crowd … it’s like a premier.’
‘Good. So there’ll be a lot of people to see the story we’re trying to tell them. They’ll know that you don’t need Lee Anton, because you can have any guy you want, just by snapping your fingers. And they’ll see that I only like nice girls.’
While she struggled for words, his face softened, his eyes became pleading.
‘I guess I wasn’t quite straight with you. I should have told you everything but I was afraid you’d say no, and I really need to do this. You can get me out of trouble as nobody else can.’
She remembered how he’d cast his protective mantle over her that afternoon. But for that, she’d be back in the hotel now, fighting back tears of rejection.
‘But do you think I’m up to it?’ she said. ‘It’s so scary.’
‘We’ll do it together. Don’t be afraid. Just smile and make it look as though it was the most natural thing in the world to you, and you love every minute.’
He put his hands on either side of her face, looking deep into her eyes. ‘Give the performance I know you can give.’
Suddenly she was inspired. There was a time for ducking out and a time for making the most of things, and this was definitely the second.
‘As long as you’re there, giving me directions,’ she said. ‘Let’s do it.’
‘That’s the spirit. I knew I could rely on you. Now, here comes our grand entrance.’
The car stopped. Cheers erupted from the crowd as they saw Travis emerge, smiling, waving, then reaching in for her. She took his hand and he drew her out into the spotlight.
He was playing his part perfectly, leading her slowly along the carpet so that everyone could get a good view of her quiet, restrained appearance. A gentle tug on her hand and he drew her around to the other side, just in case there was anyone who hadn’t seen how modest and ladylike she was.
Charlene smiled, turned to meet his eyes, and almost gasped at the adoring look he was giving her. If she hadn’t known better, she could almost have believed him about to fall on his knees and worship her.
What an actor! she thought.
He drew her hand to his lips and the cheers rose around them. She lowered her eyes, apparently overcome, and felt him draw her close.
‘Well done,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘Keep it up.’
As they approached the huge main doors there was a flicker of interest from behind them. Turning, they saw another car arrive, the door open and Lee emerge, accompanied by Penny. Their arrival caused a small commotion but nothing like the agitation that had greeted Travis. As they danced along the carpet three photographers dashed out to get closer shots.
Lee turned his head, laughing, preening in the spotlight. But his smile died as the photographers passed him by to surround Travis and Charlene. She had a brief glimpse of Lee’s face, aghast, astounded, chagrined. Then Travis swept her into the building.
Inside, there was more of the same as they made their way to the huge restaurant at the back of the hotel. It was called Aladdin’s Cave, and decorated with a magical theme. Brightly coloured lanterns hung from the ceiling, elaborate pictures decorated the walls and everywhere there was the glitter of gold.
They were escorted to a table for two, where he settled her with every attention and said, ‘Let’s have something to drink.’
‘Orange juice for me, please.’
‘This is an evening for champagne,’ he protested.
‘Orange juice,’ she said firmly. ‘Or sparkling water.’
He was silent a moment, but then nodded and made the order. He asked no further questions, but she had a sense that he understood why she wouldn’t touch alcohol.
Denzil bustled over, rubbing his hands with delight, paid Charlene extravagant compliments and then bustled away. People were arriving slowly, waving at Travis, looking curiously at Charlene before flaunting themselves before each other, all putting on performances. For the moment it was still quiet enough to talk.
‘You’ve saved my neck, you know that?’ Travis said. ‘All those pictures they took of us outside. I have a career again.’
‘Just like that?’
‘It can happen that way in this city. Here today, gone tomorrow, back again the day after.’
‘Don’t you ever find the life exhausting?’
‘Well, I do end up living on edge a lot of the time, but it can feel worth it.’
‘I suppose success is wonderful.’
‘Yes. Not that I’ve been a success long enough to know very much. But it matters to me to achieve everything I can, just to stop my father disowning me.’
‘But surely you don’t need him? You’re independent.’
‘I meant disowning me in spirit.’ Travis gave a brief laugh. ‘It’s odd isn’t it? I disapprove of Amos, sometimes I even dislike him. But I still hate the feeling that I’m the one on the outside of the family. He despises me for not being like him, the way my brothers are.’
‘All of them?’
‘Mostly. Darius is a big man in finance, just like Amos. He’s been hit by the credit crunch, and now he’s living on Herringdean, an island off the south coast of England that one of his debtors used to pay him off. He started out hating it, but he came to love it. Falling in love with a local girl helped. I was at their wedding a few weeks ago and if ever two people were crazy about each other it’s those two.’
‘You sound as though you envy them.’
‘In a way I do. It’s nice to know your final destination, and be able to reach it. Darius has been married before and it didn’t work out, but he’s safe with Harriet. Plus his first wife likes her, even encouraged them to marry because their two children like her as well.’
Charlene recalled him talking about his father and all the children Amos had by different women. His brother’s arrangement sounded so much happier that she began to understand the touch of wistfulness in his voice.
He can’t really be jealous, she thought. An ordinary domestic set-up. Many people would call it boring, but the great star actually wishes … no, that’s just the sort of thing he’d say in interviews. I’m imagining things. Shut up, Charlie.
‘What did you say?’ Travis asked, staring at her suddenly.
‘Nothing.’
‘I thought you whispered, “Shut up, Charlie”.’
‘Did I say that out loud? Oh, heck!’
‘You actually call yourself Charlie?’
‘When I’m trying to remember to be sensible. It’s not easy in a place like LA. Common sense seems the last thing you can manage, and actually the last thing you want.’
‘I know the feeling,’ he said wryly.
‘So your brother’s settled for common sense?’
‘That’s not what Darius calls it. To him it’s finding out what his life is really all about.’
‘And it’s not just about money?’
‘Not any more. It was once but that was his “Amos” side. Now he’s found something else and the Amos side is having to stand back.’
‘I’ll bet Amos doesn’t like that.’
‘Too right. He tried to stop their marriage, but failed. Mind you, Darius will climb to the financial top again. It’s in the Falcon genes. Marcel is like Amos too, except for being half French. He makes his money from hotels. He’s got a big, glamorous place in Paris and he’s recently bought another one in London to “extend his empire”. Amos loves that. To him, that’s how a Falcon should think, in terms of empire.’
‘Perhaps you need to play a Roman emperor,’ Charlene mused. ‘How about Julius Caesar?’
‘Better still, Nero,’ he said, catching her mood. ‘Or Caligula.’
‘But Nero was a tyrant,’ Charlene objected.
‘Great. That makes him a true Falcon.’
‘And Caligula was mad. Wouldn’t your father hate that?’
‘Not if it made money.’
They laughed together.
‘Haven’t you got two other brothers?’
‘Yes, there’s Leonid, who’s Russian and lives in Moscow. We don’t know a lot about him, but he must be successful because Amos always speaks of him with respect. Jackson’s different. He’s a naturalist. He’s written books and has a television series about wildlife all over the world.’
‘That doesn’t sound like it makes him a millionaire.’
‘No, he’s not. But Amos respects him, nonetheless, because the world knows him as a “serious man” doing a “serious job”. I just “flaunt myself for the press”, but Jackson “defends the environment” and that elevates the name Falcon, even if not in business.
‘He actually told me once that I should change my name because he didn’t want to be connected with someone “prancing around for the cameras”.’
‘Your father doesn’t want you to be called after him?’ she asked, aghast.
‘He despises what I do. He was furious when I wouldn’t take a different name.’
‘No wonder you feel shut out,’ she said sympathetically.
‘Not by the others. I get on fine with my brothers, what little I see of them. But I think Amos is just hanging on in the hope that one day I’ll change into a mini-Amos.’
‘You could always act it,’ she suggested.
‘Not if I want to stay sane,’ he said hastily. ‘This way, at least I know who I am. Or I would, if people didn’t keep wanting me to put on a performance in private as well as in front of the cameras.’
‘You poor soul.’ She sighed. ‘The burdens of fame. Just think of all those unemployed actors out there who must be so grateful they don’t have your problems.’
He scowled for a moment, but then relaxed and squeezed her hand, smiling ruefully.
‘Yeah, right. I must be coming across as a bit of a wimp, eh? It’s your fault. You’re such a tempting, sympathetic shoulder to cry on that I gave in. But no more.’ His voice deepened and he assumed a haughty mien. ‘From now on, just macho authority and stern resolve.’
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