One Day at a Time

“Do I know him?” Jane was still shocked that her mother had called to tell her she had a beau. “What's his name? I assume he has his own production company.” At her age that was obvious. He was probably someone important in the business, whom they had all known for years. But it still seemed a little strange. Jane didn't like to think of her mother that way.

“Gabriel Weiss.” Jane thought about it for a minute and nodded. There had been nothing too frightening so far. The name was respected in the business. “I know his son by the same name. He's made a couple of very good films. I didn't know his father was a producer too.”

“He isn't. His father was a neurosurgeon, and he died ten years ago. We're talking about the one you know.” Florence felt suddenly braver than she had before. The moment of truth had come, and the champagne had kicked in. Gabriel had told her that day that no matter what happened and what they said, he loved her, and there was nothing wrong with what they were doing. Loving someone, despite a considerable age gap, was not against the law. She reminded herself of that now. She was sixty-two, but Gabriel still thought she was fifty-five. She didn't have the guts to tell him the truth.

“Wait a minute, Mom,” Jane said, sounding confused. “The Gabriel Weiss I know is twelve years old.”

“Not quite. He's your age. He'll be thirty-nine next month.”

“And how old are you?” she said cruelly. “Sixty-two? Almost sixty-three? Isn't that a little ridiculous? In fact, I'd say it's downright disgusting for a woman your age to be dating a man his age. What's wrong with him? Does he need money for his next film?” Liz had just walked into the room and felt sick as she listened. She hated it when Jane got like this, going in for the kill. She had heard her do it to Coco too, and others. Underneath it all, Jane was a good person, but she decimated people. Liz loved her anyway, and didn't put up with it from her. But the others did. “I think this is the most embarrassing, revolting, shameful thing I've ever heard. I hope you come to your senses very, very soon.”

Her mother startled her then. “And I hope you find your manners again soon. Gabriel is a respectable man. He doesn't need my money. And I'm a respectable woman. I'm your mother. And I'm doing you the honor of telling you myself before you hear it from someone else. We're not doing anything wrong, and we're not doing anything any man wouldn't do, given half a chance. Gabriel is twenty-four years younger than I am, and if we can deal with it, maybe you can too. I'll talk to you soon,” she said, and hung up while Jane was still spluttering at the other end. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard, and her mother had hung up on her. It was a first. And long overdue. The two were usually an even match, but this time Jane had gone too far. And her mother felt some allegiance to Gabriel too.

Jane turned to Liz in disbelief. “My mother has Alzheimer's,” she said with an agonized look.

“How did you come to that conclusion?” Liz asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“She's having an affair with a guy my age. Gabriel Weiss.”

“Is he a bad guy?” Liz asked evenly.

“What do I know? He's a good producer. But he can't be a good guy, if he's screwing my mother, who's nearly twice his age.”

“She doesn't look her age,” Liz reminded her, “and guys her age and older do it all the time, with girls half his age.” It was not what she wanted to hear from Liz.

“She's my mother, for chrissake!” She had tears in her eyes as Liz sat down next to her and put an arm around her.

“What if she'd reacted like that when you told her you were gay?”

“She did!” Jane laughed through tears. “She threatened to kill herself. For about two days. And then she told my father, and he was wonderful about it. I think they were disappointed, but they were always very supportive after that. You're right, I guess. But shit, Liz, why does she have to do this? What if the guy is just after her money and is making a fool of her?”

“What if he isn't? And even if he is, what if he makes her happy for a while? It's not easy getting older. She's all alone in L.A.”

“She has millions of fans. She sells a zillion books every time.”

“Her fans don't keep her warm at night, or hold her when she's sad. What if we didn't have each other?” Liz said pointedly as Jane wiped her eyes.

“I would die. My life would be a wasteland without you, Liz. You're all that matters in my life. You're my family.”

“Try imagining life without that. Your father was her whole world. She doesn't have that anymore. Now she has him. Maybe he's a bad guy or maybe he's a good one. Either way, she has a right to figure that out, not to be alone, and to share her life with whoever she chooses.”

“What makes you so wise at such a young age?” Jane asked, and blew her nose on the tissue Liz handed her as she laughed.

“She's not my mother. But she's a good woman, and I love her. I want the best for her too. Let's give her a chance on this. I think she deserves it.” Jane hung her head as she thought about it, and then put her arms around Liz and hugged her.

“I think my mother is a nutcase, but you're terrific.” Liz smiled at her. The bond between them was growing stronger every day.

“Okay. So now you get two days to tell her you're going to commit suicide over this, like she did when you came out. But maybe after that, you can suck it up, for her sake. See what you think.”

“I'll think about it,” Jane said quietly, and then she called Coco. It was one of those times when sisters needed each other and blood was thicker than water.

Coco had been laughing hysterically with Leslie when the phone rang. He had been telling her a story about a series of mishaps on the set of one of his first movies. She loved those stories, and he told them well. She was still laughing when she answered and heard Jane at the other end, with the voice of doom.

“Our mother has gone insane” was how she opened. And Coco instantly suspected what was coming next since she had seen it with her own eyes. “She's having an affair with a man my age.” Coco was relieved to hear that he was no younger. She had been afraid, after seeing him, that he was closer to her own age.

“Who told you?” Coco asked calmly.

“She did. You don't sound surprised,” Jane said accusingly.

“I suspected something like that might be going on.” She'd been pretty happy for a while. And lately, she'd been leaving Coco alone. She hardly ever called. That was new. In the past, she had called several times a week to tell Coco everything that was wrong with her, and her life. Recently, her calls had been rare and brief and very superficial.

“So what do you think?” Jane asked her.

Coco sighed, thinking about it. “I don't know. Part of me thinks she has a right to do what she wants. Another part of me thinks it sounds crazy and all wrong. What do I know? I live like a hippie in a shack in Bolinas because it suits me. I almost married a diving instructor and moved to Australia. You're gay, and practically married to a woman. What right do we have to tell her what's right for her? Maybe the guy is okay. She's smart enough to figure it out if he isn't. Our mother is nobody's fool.”

“When did you get so grown-up and philosophical?” Jane asked, sounding suspicious. “Did she put you up to this?”

“No. This is the first I've heard about it, from you. But who knows, maybe Daddy would have done the same thing with someone younger, maybe even a real bimbo. Once people that age are alone, they do that kind of thing. No one wants to be alone,” she said, and smiled at Leslie as he gave her a thumbs-up.

“You don't seem to mind it,” Jane said with an edge to her voice. “And at her age, you wouldn't think it would make a difference.”

“Why would that be? Why would she want to be all alone after all those years with Daddy?”

“Why would she want to be with a much younger man at her age and make a fool of herself?” It didn't make sense to Jane.

“Maybe it makes her feel young. I think she's lonely.”

“We should visit her more often,” Jane said, frowning.

“That's not the same. You know that. I don't know, Jane. I don't like it either. But it's not a crime.”

“It's in incredibly bad taste. And mortifying for us.”

“She never says that about your being gay.” Coco scored a point with that one, and Jane fell silent for a moment. “She's always been supportive of how you live.”

“It's not a choice. It's what I am.”

“She could object anyway, and she doesn't. She's always been proud of you.” And not of me, Coco wanted to say, but didn't. Neither her mother nor her sister had been supportive of her, and yet she was willing to champion them. It wasn't fair, but it was the way their family worked.

“She's proud of you too,” Jane said softly, sensing what her sister was thinking, and suddenly embarrassed by her own criticism of her. Coco never did that to them.

“No, she isn't,” Coco said simply, with tears in her eyes. “And neither are you. That's not a secret. But I think we owe her something now. Some kind of respect, or at least acceptance of what she's doing.” For a long moment, Jane didn't answer. She was thinking of all the times she had told Coco everything that was wrong with her, and what a failure she was. It made her feel terrible, and want to share something with her now.

“I have something to tell you too,” Jane said, as she glanced at Liz, and her partner nodded. “I'm twelve weeks pregnant. I got inseminated before we came to New York. We didn't want to tell anyone till we were sure it would stick. We did it last year and I had a miscarriage, but this time everything is fine.” Coco was stunned. They hadn't told her last time, and Coco had had no idea that was their plan. But when she thought about it, she remembered that Liz had always wanted kids. It seemed ironic to Coco that Jane was having the baby, when Liz was by far the warmer and more maternal of the two, but Jane was a few years younger so maybe that was why.

“Congratulations!” Coco said, smiling and still surprised. “When's it due?”

“Beginning of February. I still can't believe it's happening. It doesn't show yet. I'll be six or seven months pregnant when we come home, depending on when we do.”

“I can't wait to see that!” Coco laughed. And then she thought of something. “So maybe you should be a little nicer to Mom. If you can have a baby with a woman. And I can drop out of law school and live like a 'freak,' according to all of you. Maybe she has a right to have a boyfriend your age. Who are any of us to judge each other and tell each other what to do?” Jane knew in her heart of hearts that what her sister said was true. There was a long silence at her end as she thought about it, and she reached out and took Liz's hand. Liz ran her other hand gently over Jane's belly, and their eyes met and held.

“I'm sorry,” Jane whispered to Coco and meant it, “for all the stupid things I've said. I love you, and I hope this baby looks just like you,” she said as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I love you too,” Coco said. And for just a minute Jane was the big sister she had always dreamed of and never had.

They hung up a few minutes later and Coco wiped her eyes and looked at Leslie with a wistful smile.

“I'm proud of you,” he said gently, and took her in his arms.

“She apologized to me. She found out about my mom, and she was furious about it.”

“You said all the right things,” he praised her, which meant the world to her.

“So did she, in the end.” And then she looked up at him with a smile. “She's having a baby.”

“That's interesting. Maybe motherhood will mellow her a little.”

“It sounds like it already has,” Coco said, thinking of the sweetness of her sister's words. And with that, Leslie kissed her and she closed her eyes.

“I'd like to have a baby with you one day too,” he whispered, and she nodded. She liked that idea too, although she never had before. It was hard to absorb all of it sometimes. So much had happened in such a short time.

Chapter 8

Both Coco and Jane spoke with their mother several times in the next few days. Jane was still upset about her so much younger lover, and although both Liz and Coco had convinced her that her mother had a right to go out with whomever she wanted, Jane still thought it was incongruous and mortifying that her mother was involved with a man Gabriel's age. And she still wasn't totally convinced he wasn't after the money. But she agreed to at least meet him and give him a chance when she and Liz got back to the West Coast. It wouldn't be for several months. Jane hadn't told their mother about the baby yet. She said there was still plenty of time. Liz finally convinced her a few days later and she relented, and told her that there was a grandchild on the way. Florence was thrilled and amazed.

“You know, one of the things that upset me, when you told me you were gay,” she admitted, “was that I thought you'd never have children. It never occurred to me that you'd do it this way. Does it bother you,” she asked candidly, “not knowing who the father is?”

“Not really. We selected the sperm donor from some very thorough profiles. We know his family history, national origins, health history, education, personal quirks. He and his father both went to Yale.” Like her parents, Jane was an academic snob, and wouldn't have selected anyone who hadn't gone to college, and even graduate school. He was a medical student, healthy, young, of Swedish origin. They knew everything about him but his name.

Jane told her mother that she was planning to do amniocentesis, to make sure that the baby was genetically healthy, and it would be fun to know the sex. She and Liz were both hoping for a girl. Florence couldn't believe she was going to be a grandmother. And when she thought of it, she wondered if Gabriel would feel any differently about her. Her daughters had shaken her up badly in the last few days.

Coco was easier on her, but it was obvious that she was upset too. She had had a little more time to get used to the concept of her mother being involved with a much younger man, since she had seen them at the Bel-Air.

“Thank you for not being angry at me,” her mother said softly. In the end, as she always was, Coco had been kind to her.

“I'm not angry. I just worry about you,” Coco explained. It felt strange to have a parental role with her mother now. And Florence seemed more inclined to confide in her now than in Jane, which was odd too. Her mother and older sister had been much closer to each other over the years. It was partially due to Jane's age, and that Florence and her elder daughter had enjoyed the relationship of mother and only child until Coco was born. As a result, Coco had always felt that Jane had a head start on her, and that they shared a bond that rarely, if ever, included her. They just wouldn't let her in. Their way of thinking was similar, they were equally critical, opinionated, and shared many of the same ideas. Even as a child, Coco had been different from either of them. She had felt like an outsider in their midst almost since birth. As long as she could remember, her mother and Jane had been best friends.

Jane had left for college when Coco was six, and instead of becoming the favored only child after that, Coco had remained an outcast, brought up and entertained by nannies, while her mother worked. Florence had been far more interested in writing her books than in spending time with her younger child. It was Jane she would always drop her work for, whom she spent time with, went on trips with, who was more interesting as an adult. Somehow, whatever the time or the season, Coco always felt as though she never made the grade. And now, for once, it was the always perfect, irreproachable, knowledgeable about everything, arbiter of right or wrong, famous Florence Flowers, who felt as though she was in disgrace. It was an unfamiliar feeling for her. And she was leaning on her far gentler daughter for comfort.

“How did you meet Gabriel, Mom?” Coco asked her in one of their lengthy conversations about him. As long as he seemed to be firmly entrenched in her mother's life, she wanted to know everything there was to know. Florence mistook it for approval, and was grateful to her. She had been very hurt by the things Jane had said. And even if she had apologized later, you can't unring a bell. She had accused her of being senile, having Alzheimer's, being a foolish old woman who was being taken advantage of by a man who wanted nothing more than to exploit her money and fame. Coco realized that could still be true, but she had been more cautious about what she said. Although her relationship with her mother was difficult, she was basically a profoundly kind person and didn't want to hurt her.

“I sold one of my books to Columbia for a movie last year, and Gabriel was assigned to produce and direct. We worked closely together on the script, although I don't think it will be shooting till next year. We had a lot of fun collaborating. He's a very interesting, sensitive man.” She sounded suddenly shy then, which startled her daughter. It was an unfamiliar tone for her. “And he says the same thing about me. He was involved with an older woman in college, though not this old,” she admitted. “He had a thirty-year-old girlfriend when he was eighteen.” He clearly had a thing for women who were older than he was.

“I look forward to meeting him,” Coco said quietly. It was true, for a number of reasons. Although she didn't say it, she was still extremely suspicious of him. It didn't seem right or normal for him to be with a woman twenty-four years older than he was, although admittedly her mother didn't look her age, and he didn't know the full truth about Florence's age. But he still thought there were seventeen years between them, which was a lot. She wondered if her mother had had something like this in mind when she had the second face-lift right after Coco's father died. Probably not, but it did occur to her now. And she had had a tummy tuck and liposuction then too. Florence had always been very vain. It was all part of what Coco had rebelled against, as part of the Hollywood life she knew. Jane was vain too, though not as much so as their mother, and Coco knew that she had been getting Botox shots for the past several years. Coco couldn't even remotely imagine doing any of it. That kind of vanity and self-absorption was totally foreign to her.

“He wants to meet you too,” Florence said in response to what her daughter had said. Just hearing her say it was a relief. She had been terrified that they might both stop seeing her. Jane had thought about it, but had been considerably calmed down by Liz.

“So what do you think of the baby?” Coco asked her idly. She couldn't imagine that becoming a grandmother was what her mother had in mind these days. It would surely be awkward for her.

“I think it's nice for them. I always thought you'd be the one to have children. It never occurred to me that they'd do something like this. It's a little strange not knowing who the father is.” But what her mother was doing was a little strange too.

“Jane says she didn't want the complications of doing it with a friend. This way the baby only belongs to her and Liz. I can see her point. It would probably feel weird having the baby of someone she knows. It still seems a long way off.” It was six months away. “I suppose we'll all be used to the idea by the time it arrives.”

“I'm not sure I will,” Florence said honestly. “I have other things on my mind right now. And I'm starting a new book.” The shock and humility had already begun to fade from her voice. She rarely if ever lost sight of who she was, although Jane's fury at her had taken her down a notch or two, at least for a few days. She almost felt as though becoming a grandmother now, with a younger man in her life, was Jane's ultimate revenge on her. There was no question in the minds of anyone who knew her that for the most part Florence Flowers was all about herself. And the only person she occasionally let into her private world was Jane. She was sad to realize that with a baby now, that would change. Jane's allegiance would lean more toward her own child and Liz. And suddenly Florence felt left out. It brought her even closer to Gabriel than before.

She talked about her daughters with him that night. He knew she had told them about him, and he was nervous about it. He couldn't imagine their approving of him, and he was right.

“Are they both still upset?” he asked nervously, when they had dinner on the terrace of the Ivy that night. Florence was wearing white jeans, high-heeled gold sandals, and a turquoise silk shirt. She looked better than ever, and it was hard to believe she had been unnerved by them at all as she looked adoringly at him.

“They'll get over it. They already have,” she reassured him. “Coco was startled by it, but she's a very sweet girl. She said she just wants me to be happy, and she's looking forward to meeting you the next time she comes down. She can't come at the moment. She's house-sitting for her sister right now.” She didn't say a word about the baby, and didn't intend to until she had no other choice. She didn't want him to start thinking of her as a grandmother. The age difference between them was bad enough, without adding that. It hadn't seemed that monumental to her for the last year, but it clearly was to Jane. “My older daughter is harder,” she said to him, as he ordered champagne for both of them. They had something to celebrate now—they could come out of hiding and stop worrying about her daughters finding out. Florence had been worried about the press too. She was a major celebrity, and their romance was a juicy story that would eventually wind up in the tabloids and fan magazines. They had been lucky and careful so far.

“Was Jane very angry at you?” Gabriel asked, looking worried, as he toasted her with the champagne. He was wearing a T-shirt and white jeans, with brown alligator loafers and no socks. The shoes had been a gift from Florence months before. She liked seeing them on him. He wore them a lot when he was with her. She had bought him black ones too.

“She was at first,” Florence said honestly about her oldest daughter. “I don't think it ever occurred to her that something like this could happen. I think it shook them up because of their dad. You're the first man in my life since he died.” That wasn't entirely true, but she thought it would sound better to him. She had had two brief affairs in the year after Buzz died, which she had never mentioned to her girls. They had been very dull men, and she hadn't been in love with either of them. But she was madly in love with Gabriel Weiss, and had fallen head over heels for him the day they met. He claimed to have felt the same for her. And their romance had been quick and hot, and still was. “I think it's an adjustment for them. Jane has a very sweet, very intelligent partner. When I last saw her, she promised to try and make it right with Jane for me. And I think she did. Liz wasn't shocked about us at all.” He smiled at her, looking sympathetic about her daughter. From everything he knew of her himself and had heard in the business, Jane Barrington was hell on wheels.

“My age must have come as something of a shock,” he said simply. “I never think about it when I'm with you.” He smiled at her, and kissed her neck, well aware of her cleavage in the silk shirt, which was hard to ignore. He loved the way she dressed, and how sexy and elegant she was at the same time. She was the most seductive woman he had ever known. “I always feel like we're the same age.” He said all the right things, and Florence believed them. Maybe it was crazy, but she was sure he was sincere. And Liz was right. If she were a man, no one would care, in fact they'd approve and envy her.

“Jane will be fine,” she reassured him again. “She has other things on her mind right now. She's up to her ears in headaches and union problems on location with a film. Our little romance is going to be the last thing on her mind.” Not to mention the baby, which he knew nothing about, and hopefully wouldn't for a long time. They might even be married by then. Gabriel had been talking about it all summer, and Florence loved the idea. The only stumbling block they'd had to overcome was the girls. And she wasn't about to upset them even further by talking marriage. She wanted them to get to know him, and hoped they would calm down.

For the rest of dinner they talked about the movie he was working on. She had been going over scripts with him for months, and had given him excellent advice. They worked well as a team. In fact, they were a great match at everything they did. She noticed a few people glance at her enviously as they finished dinner. Other women looked at her, stared at Gabriel, then back at her with open admiration, or so she thought. No one had ever referred to him as her son. And he looked slightly older than he was. The difference between them looked more like ten years than twenty-four. And a woman with a man ten years younger was fairly common these days. Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher had forged the way for couples such as theirs. She was to be envied, or so she thought, not criticized or shunned.

They went back to her place afterward, as they usually did. He stayed with her most nights now, and had for the past several months. And once in a while, when they wanted to do something special, they spent the weekend at the Bel-Air Hotel. When they stayed there, Gabriel always paid. He never let Florence pay for anything for him, except random gifts. He had given her a diamond bracelet for their six-month anniversary, and he was hoping to give her an engagement ring sometime in the next year, but she didn't know about that yet. He had already picked one out. He was hoping her daughters would have met and approved of him by then. He didn't want to tear their family apart, but he was madly in love with their mother, for better or worse. He thought she was terrific.

Gabriel stretched out on her bed as though he owned it, and by now, he did, just as he owned her. Discovering sex with him had been an experience like no other in her life. It had never been this good in her thirty-six years with Buzz, even when they were young. Gabriel was an incredible lover. He had recently told his own mother about their affair, and she had been just as upset as Jane. But she was also beginning to understand that there was nothing she could do about it. Gabriel said he was in love with her and had made up his mind. And she knew her son well. She knew that nothing she could do would sway Gabriel from what or whom he wanted. He was the most persistent man in the world. He had been that way with Florence too, when she resisted him at first. But she didn't for long. She had given in and abandoned herself to the myriad pleasures they shared. Sex wasn't the most important on that list, although it mattered, but he loved talking to her, laughing with her, listening to her, holding her for hours on end after they made love. He loved everything about her, her mind, her body, her style, her strength, her fame, her reputation, and her enormous talent. She was a woman like no other, beyond compare. He had expected to feel insignificant with her, but instead she pulled him up to her level in so many ways. He was learning so much from her, about writing, discipline, talent, humor. Thanks to her, his writing had already improved immeasurably, as had his directing. He could tell, and Florence noticed it too. He felt as though he were worshipping at the feet of the master, and in many ways he was.

As he lay in bed with her that night, he took off her sexy gold sandals and tossed them to the floor. The white jeans and turquoise silk shirt were next. She was wearing a thong and a lacy pale blue bra, and he smiled as he looked at her.

“There isn't a sexier woman alive,” he said, admiring her. Her body was still slim and tight. She worked out with one of the best trainers in town now every day. Making love with Gabriel every night gave her motivation. And she had taught him things he never knew.

She slowly peeled his clothes off then, in her slow sensual way that drove him insane, and moments later they were lying naked in each other's arms. She let the help go home at night now, and on warm nights they made love in the pool. But tonight, they were content to stay in her bed. It was a huge four-poster with a pink canopy, and for the past year it had been home to him.

She covered his lips with her own, slid on top of him, and began to ride him, and within seconds, Gabriel began to moan. She stayed that way, alternately teasing and pleasing, tantalizing him, and then slipped off him again, and went down on him with her mouth. He returned the favor and slowly the tides turned, and Gabriel was in control, and he drove her as crazy as she had him. It was a long time before they were sated and it was over, and afterward she lay in his arms, looking pleased. Gabriel looked spent and exhausted, and then laughed as he held her. He didn't know what her daughters thought of him, and at the moment he didn't care. He had never loved a woman like this. And minutes later, they were sound asleep in each other's arms. For both of them, the rest of the world just didn't exist.

Chapter 9

In mid-August, Leslie got a call from Chloe's mother. She had been invited on a yacht in the South of France for two weeks. She'd been spending weekends in Southampton with Chloe, and had been working on the same play on Broadway for a year.

“I'm sorry to do this to you, Leslie,” Monica apologized. She usually gave him more notice. “I need a vacation, and I may not get another chance for months. They have a good understudy for me, and I'd love like hell to get to Saint-Tropez on a boat. Could you take Chloe for me for a couple of weeks?” Normally, he would have leaped at the chance, but he had no idea how Liz and Jane would feel about having a child in their house. They were expecting their own now, but that was different. A six-year-old was more of a presence than a newborn, to say the least. He wanted her to get to know Coco anyway, so he hoped they would allow it.

“I think I can,” he said, sounding awkward. “I'm actually house-sitting at the moment, camping out at friends'. I have to ask them if they're okay about having a little girl here. I suppose if not, I could go to a hotel.” But he would lose his anonymity there, and everyone would know he was in town. He wanted to stay under the radar with Coco for a while. They didn't need the headache of the press. “I'll call you back,” he promised, and immediately called Jane. Instead he got Liz, who was keeping her cell phone for her while she was on the set. He explained his dilemma to her, but said he'd go to a hotel with his daughter if they preferred.

“Don't be silly,” Liz assured him. “We'd better get used to having kids in the house. We're having one of our own.” She wasn't sure if Coco had told him, or was friendly enough with him to do so. She knew that Coco had been telling Jane they hardly saw each other, which Liz didn't entirely believe.

“So I hear. Congratulations, to both of you. And I really appreciate your letting me have Chloe here. She's a lamb, and very well behaved. Like a small adult. Her mother takes her everywhere.” But apparently not on a yacht in the South of France, Liz mused. “I can hardly wait to show her San Francisco, and I thought Coco and I could take her to the beach.”

“I'm sure she'd love that,” Liz said with interest. What he said didn't quite support Coco's claims to her sister that they rarely met. “How are you and Coco getting along, by the way?” Liz asked innocently, fishing a little. She couldn't resist. For some strange reason, she loved the idea of them together. She had a lot of respect for Jane's younger sister, far more than Jane did herself. Unlike Jane, she didn't think Coco was a hopeless case, just different from her hardcore ambitious sister, and she knew Ian's death had hit her hard. Liz had always been very fond of Leslie too, and in spite of being an actor and a major star, she thought he was a good man, with good values.

“We're getting on like a house afire,” he admitted, sounding faintly sheepish. “She's an amazing woman. She's her own person, and profoundly good and kind and decent.” He sang her praises, although he didn't need to, to Liz.

“It sounds like you two have been talking,” Liz said with a tone of approval.

“Yes, when she's not out with the 101 Dalmatians. It's a bit of an odd job, but her clients seem to keep her very busy, and she's happy doing it for now.” He didn't think her current job was a lifetime commitment, and he didn't see why her mother and sister were so upset about it. It was lucrative and respectable, after all, and she did it well. It was a profitable little business.

“They love her,” Liz confirmed. “She's the Pied Piper of dogs.”

“I suspect she will be with children too. I'm sure my daughter will love her. And thank you again for letting me have her here. I appreciate it a lot. Do I need to add to my security deposit for that? I feel like I should be paying rent.” He had been there for ten weeks. And Liz laughed.

“It's good company for Coco. I feel guilty as hell that we haven't found anyone to let her off the hook. We both tried, but everyone had summer plans, or they're going back to school in the fall. At least she's getting to live with a handsome movie star. That ought to make up for having to stay at our house.” Liz realized then, as she talked to him, that Coco hadn't complained in months, or begged to be relieved of her duties. That alone made Liz suspicious of what was going on. And Leslie sounded friendly and enthusiastic about her, but he didn't say they were head over heels in love with each other either. Maybe they were just friends, although Liz still didn't believe it, or they were being discreet. That seemed more likely. Or possibly nothing major had happened yet, and never would. Little did she know that they had made mad passionate love on his second night there, in their bed. There were some things she didn't need to know, so Leslie kept his tone light. Coco always said that Jane never asked, and it probably didn't even occur to her that they had gotten involved. She had already told Coco long since that she wasn't his type.

“Give my love to Jane,” he said as they were about to hang up, “and congratulations again about the baby. That'll be a big change for you both.”

“Jane says she's going to take six months off. I'll believe it when I see it. I'm going to stay home for a year, if I can. I write at home anyway. I've wanted this all my life.” She had always wanted children, but not with the man she was married to, which told her how wrong it was. It felt perfect to her now. She could hardly wait for the birth of their child. She was only sorry she wasn't carrying it, but their doctor had preferred that Jane do it, so Liz had deferred to her. Jane was in better shape, and the four years between them made a difference, in the hope of avoiding a miscarriage. They didn't want that to happen again. And there was no sign of it this time. “Say hi to Coco for me. Is she doing all right after all the excitement about their mother?” She hadn't spoken to her a lot since, although Jane had. And she had tried to leave all the conversation between the two sisters. At her end, she had calmed Jane down as best she could. Fairly effectively, she thought, although Jane was still grumbling about it. But she wasn't insanely angry the way she had been when she first heard the news. And Coco had calmed her down too. Liz knew she would. Coco was far more tolerant of human foibles than her sister.

“I think she's fine about it. She was a bit upset at first. But she realizes that her mother has the right to lead her own life, with whomever she chooses. And these days, that kind of thing happens. Age no longer matters the way it once did, even for an older woman.”

“That's pretty much what I said to Jane too. It didn't go over quite so well here,” Liz confessed with a sigh. But fortunately being pregnant and thinking about the baby had also mellowed Jane a little.

“No,” Leslie said pensively, thinking of Liz's partner, whom he knew well, “I imagine it wouldn't. It sounds like Jane is pretty tough on Coco too,” he said, revealing more than he should. It hadn't gone unnoticed by Liz, but she wasn't going to say anything to Jane about it. She had enough on her plate, without getting wound up about that too, and she might. She was very possessive about her friends, and Liz sensed instinctively that she wouldn't want Coco getting involved with Leslie. It was an odd kind of rivalry between sisters. She wanted Leslie to be her friend, not Coco's.

“Did Coco tell you Jane is hard on her?” Liz asked with interest. It was something that had always bothered her and never seemed fair to her. Coco needed the support and understanding of her family, not the kind of raking over the coals she sometimes got, both from Jane and her mother.

“Not really,” Leslie said, trying to back off, and fearing he had already said too much. Liz was nobody's fool, and she would figure it out if he wasn't careful, if she hadn't already. “I just guessed, from bits and snips she's said.”

“If she said that to you, she's right. Just as a frame of reference,” Liz said honestly. “They've been giving her a hard time for years, since she dropped out of school and even before. They gang up on her, and she's no match for them. She's much too nice about it, but that's the way she is.” Leslie almost said that that was why he loved her, but caught himself in time.

“Maybe they can beat up Florence's boyfriend now instead,” Leslie said, and laughed. “It's been nice talking to you. I haven't seen you in ages. I feel a bit guilty staying here, but I love it. No one knows I'm in town. I've got to go back in September. I'm starting a picture in October. It's the icing on the cake now to have Chloe come out before I leave.”

“Have fun,” Liz said cryptically. He thanked her again and they hung up. And he called Monica right back.

“No problem. I can have her here,” he said with delight. “How soon do you want to send her?”

“Would tonight be too soon?” Monica asked, sounding sheepish. “I can catch a ride to Nice on a friend's plane tomorrow. The boat is in Monte Carlo, and going from there to Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat and Saint-Tropez.” They were the fanciest watering holes in Europe.

“You lead a hard life,” he teased her.

“I earned it,” she said firmly. “I've been working my ass off on Broadway without a vacation for a year. Two weeks isn't too much to ask. Thanks for taking Chloe.”

“I'm delighted,” he said, and meant it.

“I'll text you the flight.”

“I'll call you as soon as I pick her up,” he promised. They worked well as tag-team parents, taking turns with their child. It had proved to be a blessing for them both. They were still good friends long after their relationship had died, which was nice for their daughter. Chloe loved it when Leslie came to visit them in New York. And he could hardly wait to have her with him for two weeks.

He told Coco as soon as she got home. “Tonight?” She looked stunned. She hadn't expected to meet Chloe so soon. “I hope she isn't upset that I'm around,” she said, looking worried. “She might not be happy to share her dad.”

“She's going to love you,” he said with a look of conviction, and then kissed her. “I had a nice chat with Liz when I called to ask about having Chloe stay here.”

“Does she suspect anything?” Coco asked with interest.

“I couldn't tell. But Liz is pretty sharp.”

“More than my sister.” Coco grinned. “Jane is so self-absorbed, I don't think it crosses her mind.”

“I have a feeling you're right,” he said, and then went to check the refrigerator. They had bought groceries two days before, so they were well stocked and had all the things Chloe liked. Cereal, waffles, frozen pizza, peanut butter and jelly. They even had croissants, which she loved. He had seen his daughter eat snails on more than one occasion, in fancy French restaurants. Her mother took her everywhere with her and treated her like a grown-up companion. But left to her own devices, Chloe still preferred the foods and pastimes of any kid.

They shared a salad that night before they left for the airport, and Leslie could see Coco was nervous. It was a big deal to her to meet his child.

“What if she hates me?” she asked, looking anxious, as they put the car in the airport garage. They had driven Jane's Mercedes station wagon, and not Coco's disreputable-looking van. There would have been no seat for Chloe if they had, since she had taken all but one passenger seat out, to make room for the dogs.

“She's going to love you,” he said again. “And don't forget that I do,” he reminded her, and gave her a hug.

The plane was ten minutes early, and they arrived just in time to meet Chloe as she came through the arriving passengers' gate. A member of the ground crew was with her, and they delivered the enchanting-looking little girl into her father's hands as she leaped into his arms with delight. She peeked over his shoulder as he held her and smiled at Coco. She had huge blue eyes and long blond braids, and she was wearing a pink smocked dress and carrying a battered-looking teddy bear. She looked like the poster for the perfect child. She had her mother's coloring and Leslie's astonishing good looks. You could already see that she was going to be a knockout when she grew up.

Leslie set her gently down on her feet and held her hand as he introduced her to Coco. “This is my friend Coco,” he said simply, as Chloe looked up at her with interest. “We're staying at her sister's house. It's very pretty and I think you'll like it. And they have an indoor pool, and it's very warm.” He gave her all the pertinent information, and Coco suddenly realized that she wouldn't be able to sleep with him while Chloe was there. They hadn't talked about it before she arrived, but she didn't want to shock his child, and she was sure he wouldn't want to either.

“All right now,” Leslie said, sounding very official, “let's get your bags. You must be very tired,” he said, as they walked toward the baggage claim area hand in hand, as Coco followed. Chloe kept glancing up at her, as though she was trying to figure out who she was.

“I slept on the plane,” she informed them, “and we had hot dogs and ice cream for dinner.”

“That sounds very good. We have ice cream at the house for you too. And two big dogs, but they're very nice. One of them is very big.” He was trying to warn her about Jack so she wouldn't be frightened when they arrived at the house. Coco thought Leslie had a very nice way with his daughter. He suddenly seemed very grown up, as she saw him acting like a dad. It was obvious that Chloe was crazy about him and thrilled to be there. She never let go of his hand.

“I like dogs,” she said simply, looking up at Coco. “My grandmother has a French poodle. It doesn't bite.”

“Neither do ours,” Coco explained. “Their names are Jack and Sallie. Jack is as tall as your dad, when he stands up.” Chloe laughed.

“That sounds very silly,” Chloe said, as Leslie got both her bags off the turntable and set them down next to Coco.

“I'll go and get the car,” he announced, and suddenly took off, leaving Chloe with Coco. She wasn't quite sure what to say to her, but Chloe chatted with her with ease.

“My mom is an actress on Broadway,” she explained, while they waited for her father. “She's very good and the play is very sad. Everyone dies. I like musicals better, but my mom doesn't play in those, just sad ones. She gets killed at the end. I was there on opening night.” She was exactly what Leslie had said, both enchanting child and small adult. “Are you an actress too?” Chloe asked her pleasantly.

“No. I walk dogs.” Coco felt silly as she said it. It was harder to explain to a child. “I walk people's dogs for them while they're at work. It's kind of fun.”

They chatted easily for a few minutes until Leslie returned. He was pleased to see that Chloe looked completely at ease with Coco. He carried the bags out to the car, strapped Chloe into the backseat, put her suitcases in the back, and a moment later they drove off.

“What are we going to do here?” Chloe asked as they drove into the city. “Is there a zoo?”

Coco answered for Leslie, since she knew the city better. “Yes, there is. And there are cable cars, and there's a place called Chinatown. And we can go to the beach.”

“Coco has a lovely cottage at the beach that I think you'll love,” Leslie filled in, as Coco smiled at him. She realized then that this was going to be like playing house, with his child. They had been living together for two and a half months, and suddenly they were a family. Or he and Chloe were, and she was tagging along. This was his real life. It was a taste of reality for both of them. It scared her a little, but she liked it.

When they got to the house, Leslie opened the door with his keys and turned off the alarm, and then turned to Chloe with a broad smile. “Welcome home for the next two weeks,” and then he walked her into the kitchen and offered her ice cream. She was still holding on to her bear. She had told Coco at the airport that his name was Alexander. It was a handsome name for a very raggedy old bear. All three of them sat down at the kitchen table, and Coco got out the ice cream. And then much to her horror, Leslie told his daughter about the scene with the maple syrup when they met. Chloe let out big belly laughs as he explained it to her, while she dribbled ice cream down her chin, and so did he. It warmed Coco's heart to see them both. Chloe looked as though she should be part of his everyday life. Being a father seemed to come so naturally to him.

When the three of them finished their ice creams, Coco introduced Chloe to the dogs. She made Jack hold out his paw to shake her hand, and Chloe giggled. She wasn't afraid of him at all, and Sallie ran circles around them, while Coco explained that Sallie used to herd sheep in Australia. And then they all went upstairs. Chloe was going to sleep with her father in the guest room that night. He winked at Coco over his daughter's head, and she got the message that he'd come in to visit when Chloe fell asleep.

Coco unpacked her bag for her, and Leslie watched while she brushed her teeth. She washed her face and put on her pajamas, and then Coco helped her unbraid her hair. It was fair and long and fine and wavy from the braids. Chloe got into the big bed then, and Coco kissed her goodnight and went back to her own room, while Leslie sat with her until she fell asleep.

He wandered into the master suite twenty minutes later, with a happy smile as he flopped down on their bed.

“She's adorable,” Coco said, smiling at him, as he leaned across the bed and kissed her. “She looks just like you, in blond.”

“So I'm told,” he said proudly. “She thought you were very nice and very pretty. She wanted to know if I love you, and I said I do. I'm always honest with her. She said I could sleep in here if I wanted to. I left her door open, and the light on in the bathroom. And we can leave our door open too, if you don't mind.”

“This is so grown up,” Coco giggled, looking like a kid herself, and he laughed.

“Yes, it is, isn't it? Fatherhood always does that to me. She makes me feel very responsible. I wish I saw her more,” he said wistfully. “She's such a great kid.”

“Yes, she is,” Coco agreed, as he got under the covers next to her. “Are you sure it's all right if you sleep in here?”

“She said it was,” he said comfortably. “She's a pretty savvy little kid.” He liked that she felt at ease with Coco too, and he liked the way Coco talked to her. She had a gentle, kind way with dogs and children, and with him too. He loved her even more now after seeing her with his daughter. It was wonderful for him having two people he loved under one roof. He was looking forward to the next two weeks with both of them. He pulled Coco into his arms then, and they lay side by side, talking for a while, in whispers, although Chloe couldn't hear them from the next room, and she was sound asleep.

Half an hour later, he and Coco had fallen asleep too. The dogs were downstairs, asleep in the kitchen. Coco had left them there so they didn't bother Chloe or climb up on her bed.

The house was quiet while all of them slept, and the next morning, when Coco rolled over before her alarm went off, and opened one eye, she found herself looking at Chloe, who was smiling at her. She had climbed into their bed when she woke up. Leslie was still sound asleep, and Coco laughed when she saw her.

“Are you hungry?” Coco whispered, as Chloe nodded with a broad grin. “Let's go downstairs and get something to eat.” They tiptoed out of the room so as not to wake her father. Coco let the dogs out, and Chloe sat down at the kitchen table as though she'd lived there all her life. “What do you like to eat for breakfast?” Coco asked her as they smiled at each other.

“Cereal and a banana, and toast, and a glass of milk.”

“Coming right up,” Coco said as she got it all together and put the kettle on for tea. “Did you sleep okay?” Chloe nodded happily, and then looked at Coco more intently.

“My dad says he loves you. Do you love him too?” she asked with a serious expression.

“Yes, I do,” Coco answered as she put the breakfast in front of her. “Very much. And he loves you a lot too, most of all.” She wanted to reassure her.

“My mom lets me watch his movies whenever I want,” Chloe informed her as she dug into the cereal, and then had some juice.

“I like to watch them too,” Coco confessed as she sat down across from her. “There's a big, big screen in our room here, if you want to watch his movies, or some other ones. It's fun to watch them on such a big screen.”

“My dad doesn't like watching them,” Chloe informed her, and Coco nodded.

“I know. We can watch other stuff with him.”

“What are you two up to?” They both jumped as Leslie walked into the kitchen. They hadn't heard him come in on bare feet.

“We're talking about watching your movies on the big screen,” Coco explained, as Chloe shoved too much of the banana into her mouth and then tried to talk. Leslie imitated her and they all laughed, and then the dogs wandered in and out again. It was everything a family should be.

“Why don't we take Chloe to the beach today, when you finish at noon?” he suggested. It was Saturday, and sounded like a great idea to all three of them.

“Can we swim?” Chloe asked, looking excited, and Leslie told her it was too cold to swim there. He didn't tell her about the sharks, and he said they could swim at home, in the pool.

He took her to see the pool while Coco tidied up the kitchen, and then went upstairs to dress. And when Chloe and her father came back, Coco offered to do her braids for her before she went to work. It was fun taking care of her and being there with them. She ran a bath for Chloe before she left, and promised to be back soon. Chloe waved from the window while Coco drove off in her van. It was nice knowing they'd be there when she got home. This was a whole different life than the one she'd had for years now in Bolinas, solitary for the past two years. She loved playing house with Leslie and his daughter.

Coco was back in time to have lunch with them, and immediately after, they left for the beach. Chloe watched with interest as they drove along, asked questions, and told her father what she'd been doing in the Hamptons all summer. She said her mother had a new boyfriend and he had a boat, and she was going to Saint-Tropez with him after joining him in Monte Carlo. Coco tried not to smile as she listened. Chloe made comments about the people in her life, and more than likely would be telling her mother about Coco when she went back.

“He's kind of funny-looking,” Chloe said about Monica's new boyfriend. “He has a big stomach and he's bald, but he's very nice. And Mom says his boat is very big.” Monica had never been one to ignore material benefits from the men she dated, Leslie thought, as Chloe described him. But if it worked for her, why not? He could see that Coco was trying not to laugh. “He's old too,” Chloe added. She had brought her bear with her, and held him up to look at the sea as they drove along the cliffs. And then she turned her interest to Coco. Leslie was driving this time. “Why aren't you married, and have children?” she asked, looking curious. She had told her father again that morning that she thought Coco was nice.

“I haven't met the right man yet,” she answered honestly. “My mom asks me the same thing.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Chloe wanted to know everything and wasn't afraid to ask.

“I have a sister named Jane. She's eleven years older than I am.”

“That's old,” Chloe said, looking sorry for her, as they drove down the hill to Stinson Beach. There was a haze of fog on the ocean, but the sky was blue and the weather was still good. The climate was always unpredictable in August, and cold and windy in the city. The locals were used to it, and tourists were always disappointed, but Chloe didn't seem to care. She was just happy being with her father and Coco. She didn't seem to mind sharing him with a woman. She had met a lot of his girlfriends over the years. She had informed Coco of that over breakfast, and Coco just nodded as she listened. “Is your sister married and has kids?” Chloe asked hopefully. She liked playing with other children, but she was comfortable alone with grown-ups too, just as Leslie had said. She seemed totally at ease in her world, and even someone else's. She had been exposed to a very sophisticated life in her six years.

“No, she's not married either,” Coco said apologetically, “and she doesn't have any children. She lives with a friend, kind of a roommate. Her name is Liz.”

“Is she gay?” Chloe asked with wide-open eyes, and Coco nearly fell off her seat. She turned to look at the child with a cautious smile, and Leslie chuckled. He'd survived many interrogations of that sort at his daughter's hands. It was all new to Coco.

“What does gay mean?” Coco asked, feigning ignorance, to see what she would say.

“Don't you know? That means when boys live with boys and girls live with girls, and they kiss sometimes. And they can't have babies because only boys and girls can do that. Do you want to hear how people make babies? My mom told me about it,” she announced with a knowing look and then hugged her bear. She was the oddest mix of child and adult, adorable pixie and tiny woman. Coco had never met anyone like her, and already loved her. It was hard not to. She was the funniest little girl.

“I don't think I need to hear how people do that,” Coco said quickly. “My mom told me too. I was a little older than you when she did,” like about fourteen, and by then Coco had already heard the essential mechanics from Jane.

“It sounds weird, doesn't it?” Chloe commented, as they drove past the tiny town of Stinson Beach heading toward Bolinas. “I don't want someone sticking their penis in me when I'm older. That's disgusting,” she said, looking incensed, and then she turned wide eyes to Coco again. “Does my dad do that with you?” she asked clearly as Leslie choked and glanced at Coco, who was stumbling over her words.

“Errr… uh… no, he doesn't,” she lied, but she was not about to admit it to her. Some things were impossible to admit to a six-year-old, no matter how well informed she was.

“That's why you don't have children,” she said matter-of-factly “You'll have to do that one day if you want to have a baby. My mom did it with my dad.” She said it like something silly they'd done a long time ago, or a trip they'd taken. She obviously didn't understand the full meaning of what she'd been told, or the implications, although she had the mechanics right.

“Well, I'm very glad they had you,” Coco said blithely, trying to recover from the conversation, as Leslie took the turnoff to Bolinas, and they continued down the bumpy narrow road until they reached her house. “Here we are,” Coco said, ready to get out of the car, before Chloe could embark on any more delicate topics. Coco hadn't been ready for that.

All three of them got out of the car, and Coco unlocked her tiny house, as Chloe bounced in behind her. The dogs who had been cramped in the back of Jane's station wagon bounded off to the beach.

“Oh, it's so pretty!” Chloe said, clapping her hands, with her bear tucked under her arm. She set him on the couch and looked around the cottage. “It looks like where Goldilocks lived, or Snow White.” Coco laughed in answer. They had gone from sex to Snow White in under five minutes. Chloe walked out onto the deck then, as Leslie grinned at her.

“That's my girl,” he said in a whisper. “I told you she's very adult. Her mother treats her like one. But she's still very much a child at the same time. You handled that very well. And I promise never to do that disgusting thing to you again that she mentioned, unless we want to have a baby.” Coco laughed out loud, and they followed his daughter out to the deck.

“Can we play on the beach?”

“Of course, that's why we came here. Do you want to build a sand castle, or just run around?” Coco asked her.

“A castle!” she said, clapping her hands again. In answer, Coco took a series of pans and mixing bowls out of a cupboard, and a little pail to carry water in. And a moment later, after taking off their shoes, all three of them headed down to the beach.

Coco carried the water for them, and Leslie did most of the building. Chloe decorated the castle with rocks and shells and little bits of driftwood and sea glass. She was very creative. And by the time they were finished, it was a very impressive castle, and all three of them were pleased. It was late afternoon by the time they went back to the house.

Coco had two frozen pizzas in the freezer, and enough lettuce to make a salad for all of them. Coco and Chloe toasted marsh-mallows on the stove before dinner, and Coco promised to make s'mores for her for dessert. They ate dinner at the battered old kitchen table, and afterward they sat out on the deck and ate the s'mores at dusk.

After dinner, Leslie told stories about how funny Chloe was as a baby. She had heard them all, but loved hearing them again. And then they put her to bed in Coco's bedroom. Coco had volunteered to sleep on the couch that night, although Leslie insisted he would, but she thought he should sleep with his child, and she didn't mind. The living room was cozy and warm with a heater. And they lit a fire after Chloe went to bed. Coco had gone in to kiss her goodnight, and she had held up her bear for Coco to kiss too.

“Thank you. I had fun today,” she said, yawning.

“So did I,” Coco said, smiling at her, and almost as soon as she left the room, the little girl was fast asleep.

“She is the funniest kid,” Coco whispered to Leslie, as they sat on the couch together.

“I know,” he said proudly. “I just love her to pieces. I never would have thought it, but Monica is actually a very good mother. A little too modern for my taste at times, the sex education and all that, but I think Chloe is a very well-adjusted child. No thanks to me, I fear. I would spoil her rotten and keep her home from school every day to play with.” He smiled happily, and Coco nestled close to him on the couch.

“You're a very good father.” He was patient, and kind and loving, just as he was with her.

“That was a very handsome sand castle we built,” he said, smiling at her. “You should have been an architect.”

“I'd rather be a beach bum.” She grinned.

“You do that very well too,” he said as he kissed her, and then ran a hand under her sweatshirt to touch her breasts.

“You're not going to do that disgusting thing to me that Chloe talked about, are you?” she teased him, and he looked mock serious as he fondled her.

“Never! I would never do a thing like that, especially not with Chloe asleep in the next room… but under other circumstances I could be talked into it… if you ever want a baby…” His voice drifted off and she smiled mysteriously.

“Maybe one day.” She had thought of it several times recently. And the thought of having a little girl like Chloe was strangely appealing.

They lay together on the couch until midnight, talking, and then walked out on the deck to look at the sky. There were a million stars shining brightly, and a big, beautiful moon above them. They sat on the deck chairs and talked for another hour, about nothing in particular, and then reluctantly Leslie left her in the living room and went to bed with his daughter, while Coco settled in to a sleeping bag on the couch.

All three of them woke up bright and early. Leslie made breakfast. He made Mickey Mouse-shaped pancakes with bananas in them, which Chloe said were her favorites, and afterward he went next door to help Jeff work on his car. He had seen him tinkering with it all morning and was dying to lend a hand. Coco smiled as she watched him from the window while she and Chloe cleaned up the kitchen, and afterward she read her stories on the deck.

Leslie joined them two hours later, his hands covered with grease, with a look of delight, and said they had fixed Jeff's car. It had been a perfect morning for him, under the hood of Jeff's car.

After that, they drove to Stinson, and went for a long walk on the beach with the dogs. They came back to Coco's place in time for lunch. Leslie and Chloe played checkers, while Coco watched, and afterward, they all ate sandwiches and chips, and eventually lay on the deck chairs in the sun. They were all sorry to leave the beach that evening, after they ate hot dogs and toasted marshmallows. Chloe slept in the car on the way back. It had been a perfect weekend.

The three of them watched Mary Poppins on the huge screen in their bedroom that night, and when Chloe fell asleep, Leslie carried her to her own bed in the guest room. Coco had promised to take her to Chinatown the next day, where they were going to have dinner at a Chinese restaurant, “with chopsticks,” Chloe insisted. And they were planning to go to the zoo later that week, and ride on a cable car for sure before she left.

“Thank you for being so sweet to her,” Leslie said as he climbed back into bed with Coco.

“It's not hard to do,” Coco said, looking happy. And with that, Leslie got up again and locked their bedroom door. “What are you doing?” she asked, as she nestled under the covers and smiled at him. She was loving these precious days with both of them.

“I thought we might have a few minutes of privacy. It's not easy with a child in the house.” They had gotten spoiled by being alone till then. But they both loved having Chloe with them.

Leslie turned off the lights, and took Coco in his arms. He was delighted to discover that she was already naked and had taken her pajamas off while he put Chloe to bed. He took his boxer shorts off, and within seconds they were lost in their love for each other once again. It almost seemed as though Chloe's visit had brought them even closer. And Coco realized that she had never felt anything was missing before, but now she felt complete.

Chapter 10

In the two weeks Chloe spent with them, they managed to do everything they had promised her and more. They went to both the Oakland and San Francisco zoos and the wax museum at Fisherman's Wharf, which Coco thought would be too scary for her, and Chloe loved. They went to Chinatown twice, and wandered around Sausalito. They went to the movies, rode the cable car, went back to Bolinas for the weekend, and made another castle, an even bigger, more elaborate one this time. And Coco took her to a toy factory she'd read about, where they let Chloe design and stuff her own teddy bear. Alexander had a friend, a girl bear this time with a pink dress, whom Chloe named Coco, the ultimate compliment. She showed it to her father proudly, and on her last night, they all swam in the pool, and Coco cooked dinner. She even made a cake with pink icing and candy sprinkles on it. It was lopsided, but Chloe loved it anyway. Coco had spelled out her name on it in M&Ms.

Chloe asked them both over dinner if they were going to get married, and her father looked vague. He and Coco hadn't gotten that far yet, although they had touched on the subject of having babies. He was still trying to talk her into coming to live with him in L.A., and had gotten no commitment from her yet. She had an aversion to the city where she'd grown up, and the lifestyle of the people in it. They had a number of hurdles to get over before the subject of marriage could be discussed, but it had crossed his mind. He didn't want to say anything to Chloe about it, for fear of disappointing her later, if things didn't work out. She was in love with Coco, which was mutual, and she even liked the dogs.

“I think your sister might be gay,” she had said pensively to Coco one afternoon, “to have a dog like that. Girls have things like poodles or Yorkies, or little tiny fluffy dogs. Only boys have dogs like Jack.”

“You could be right,” Coco had said noncommittally “I'll have to ask her.” She didn't want to lie to Chloe, but she wasn't ready to answer her either. She didn't want her going back to her mother and announcing that Coco had a lesbian sister. She might think she had said too much to the child, although Monica didn't seem to hesitate to discuss anything with her daughter. But Chloe was her child, so she had that right. Coco wanted to keep firmer boundaries than that, and Leslie was very proper and more traditional too. They seemed to have similar ideas on that and every subject.

They had only one small mishap during Chloe's entire stay. On her very last night, Chloe burned her finger toasting marshmallows with Coco over the stove. She got too enthused and touched the red-hot fork, trying to get the melted mass of marshmallow off. She let out a yelp and burst into six-year-old wails and tears immediately as the finger came up in a blister. Coco acted quickly and ran it under cold water, as Leslie ran into the kitchen when he heard Chloe cry.

“What happened?” he asked, looking panicked, as tears rolled down his daughter's cheeks. “Did she cut herself?”

“She burned her finger,” Coco said, holding Chloe close to her and the wounded finger under the stream of cold water in the sink.

“Did you let her play at the stove alone?” he asked accusingly, and Chloe instantly turned to her father and the tears stopped.

“It's not her fault!” she said fiercely in defense of Coco, having heard the tone of accusation in her father's voice. “She told me not to touch the fork, and I did anyway,” Chloe said, leaning into the warmth and safety of Coco's arms. “It's better now,” Chloe said bravely, as all three of them examined the small, raised white blister. Coco put ointment and a Band-Aid on it, as Leslie looked at her apologetically.

“I'm sorry. That was stupid of me. I was just afraid she was badly hurt.” He felt terrible to have implied that Coco had been neglectful in any way, but when he had heard Chloe's anguished cries, it had gone straight to his heart. But he could see that Coco was just as concerned, and had done a great job with first aid.

“Don't worry about it,” Coco told him reassuringly as she lifted Chloe off the stool where she had sat her next to the sink.

“I love you, Coco,” Chloe said, throwing her arms around Coco's waist and squeezing her tight as Leslie smiled at them both.

“I love you too,” Coco whispered and bent to kiss the top of her head.

“Can we make more marshmallows now?” Chloe asked, smiling at them, holding the injured finger in midair.

“No!” both adults said in unison and then laughed. Leslie still felt terrible for his comment to Coco, but she had taken it in stride, and knew it was only due to fear and concern for his child.

“How about ice cream instead?” Leslie suggested, and Coco looked relieved. It had frightened her when Chloe got hurt and she felt badly about it, but the child was happy and fine again by the time they left the kitchen, and she lay in bed cuddling with both of them, watching TV as all three of them savored their last night. Coco realized how much she was going to miss her. Chloe had lodged herself deep into Coco's heart.

And all three of them looked sad as Leslie drove them to the airport. Chloe was carrying both her old bear and her new one, and Coco almost cried when she said goodbye to her, and they handed her over to the ticket agent who was going to walk her to the plane for New York.

“I hope you come back to visit soon,” Coco said, as she hugged her. “It won't be the same without you.” She meant it, and Chloe nodded in answer, and then pulled away to look at Coco with a serious expression.

“Will my dad be here if I come back to visit?”

“I hope so. Sometimes. You can both come back anytime.”

“I think you and my dad should get married.” She echoed the same opinion she'd voiced earlier, not long after her arrival. The bond between Coco and Chloe had been almost instantaneous and had gotten stronger every day.

“We'll talk about that sometime,” Leslie said, and hugged her tightly. “I'm going to miss you, you little monkey. Say hi to your mom for me, and call me tonight.”

“I promise,” she said sadly.

“I love you,” he said, hugging her for a last time, and then called it out again, as she went through security and turned to wave at them, smiling brightly. She was waving to both of them, and Coco blew her kisses and touched her heart and then pointed at her. They stood there until she disappeared into the crowd at the airport and headed for the gate, holding the ticket agent's hand.

They stayed until the flight took off, in case it was delayed for some reason, and once it was in the air, they went back to the garage to get the car. They were both silent for the first few minutes, thinking about Chloe, and how empty the house would seem now.

“I already miss her,” Coco said sadly, as they drove away from the airport. She had never lived with a child for two weeks before, and now she couldn't imagine life without her.

“So do I,” he said with a sigh. “I envy people who live with their children. Monica is so lucky she has her all the time.” But he couldn't imagine being married to her either, and never had. “If I ever do it again, I want to stick around. It breaks my heart when she goes, or I do, every time.” He looked mournful as they drove back to the city, and they decided to go to a movie, to keep from going back to the empty house. They felt like two lost souls.

The movie was violent and action-packed, which kept them both distracted, and by the time they got home, Chloe was halfway to New York.

Coco went to swim laps in the pool, and Leslie sat in the study making notes on a script he'd been reading to decide if he wanted the part they were offering him. They met in the kitchen later, and sat staring sadly at the cake Coco had made for Chloe the night before. It was hard to shake the mood of loss as they sat there, and then finally Leslie made them both a cup of tea and sat down with a smile.

“I think this means her visit was a success,” he said, looking a little better. “We all had a good time.”

“How could you not have fun with her?” Coco said, sipping her tea. “I hope Jane and Liz's baby is half as cute six years from now.” She was excited about that too.

“What do you think of Chloe's suggestion, by the way?” he asked nonchalantly. “The thing about getting married.” He looked boyish and nervous as he asked, like any other normal mortal, and not a famous movie star. “I thought it was a rather intriguing idea myself,” he said, pretending to be more self-confident than he felt. At times he sounded very British, and it made Coco smile. His self-deprecating style and humility were part of his huge appeal on the screen, and also in real life. She had loved that about him from the first day she met him with the maple syrup.

“Definitely interesting,” she said softly, smiling at him, with love in her eyes. “But possibly premature. I think we have to figure out where we would live first and how we'd work it out.” It was not a negligible point to Coco. They had lived together at Jane's for three months by then, which was a good start. And she had never gotten along with anyone as well or as easily in her life, not even Ian. But her big concern was still about his fame, and what kind of life they would have, constantly pursued by the press, particularly if they lived in L.A. She wanted a much more private life than that or it might ruin what they had. And they hadn't come up with a solution for the problem yet, and maybe never would.

Other than that very major issue, she and Leslie had had only one very minor disagreement, about the dogs, one night when they came in wet from the pool and jumped on the bed, for what Leslie claimed was the fourth time in a row. With the exception of that minor mishap and Chloe's burned finger the night before she left, they were doing great, and had been for three months. They loved being together, living together, she was interested in his work, and he loved hearing her opinions on the scripts that came in for him. And he was always open to what she had to say on any subject. He was respectful of her in every way. And she loved his daughter. Their only nemesis was his fame and what it might do to their life.

There were things they still didn't know about each other, what kind of people they each liked or what it would be like sharing a social life with each other, since they were living in seclusion. They had never traveled together, or faced a crisis, and she hadn't experienced what Leslie was like when tired and stressed, making a film. But for the ordinary elements of everyday life living under one roof, so far all the pieces fit more than comfortably. They were both kind, considerate people who respected each other and had a good time together. They enjoyed each other's sense of humor. All that remained to be seen was how they would stand the test of time. The only thing that seriously worried her about him was that he lived in L.A., and the life he led there, but he appeared to be flexible about that too. He had suggested San Francisco and Santa Barbara as alternatives, and had offered to spend time, whenever he could, in Bolinas. He was even willing to consider New York. He was a reasonable person, with sensible ideas, and he was willing to compromise with Coco. He seemed like an ideal candidate as a husband, and he had long since decided that Coco would be the perfect wife for him. She just wanted a little more time to think about it. Three months didn't seem like long enough to her to make a decision that would affect them for the rest of their lives. And his stardom presented unavoidable challenges they would have to face.

“I'm not sure where we live is the important issue,” Leslie said quietly. He didn't want to push her, but he was already convinced. Chloe had just helped to spur him along with her question the night before, and seeing Coco with her, and now he wanted to discuss it with her. “You can't stop loving a man, or leave him, because you don't like the city he lives in,” he said sensibly.

“It's not about the city, it's about the lifestyle that comes with your work,” she said, looking worried. It was her only concern. “I don't know what it would be like to live with a major movie star, and all that goes with it. That's scary, Leslie. The press and paparazzi and all that pressure and public exposure ruin people's lives. I need to try that on for size first. I don't want to screw up your career, or my life. I love what we have here, but this is fanta-syland,” she said honestly. “We're hiding out. When we come out of the closet, it's going to create an explosion that will be heard around the world. That scares the shit out of me. I don't want to lose you, because other people screw things up for us, and they could.”

“Then let's start telling people and see how it feels. Why don't you come on location with me to Italy? I'll be in Venice for at least a month, maybe two. You could stay there with me, if you can find someone else to walk the dogs. Will you think about it? And maybe we should go to L.A. for a few days before that, and try that on for size too.” He was ready to announce to the world he was in love with her. In fact, he was dying to be seen with Coco, and share his happiness with the entire planet. “I love you, Coco,” he said gently. “And whatever happens, and however the press handles it, I'll be right there with you.” She smiled at him with tears in her eyes.

“I guess I'm just scared. What if they hate me, or I do something stupid, or I screw things up for you? I've never been in the public eye before. I know what they used to do to my father's clients. I don't want that happening to us. Everything is so simple now, but it will never be like this again once people find out about us.” But she knew they only had two weeks left of the idyllic life they had shared. He was going back to L.A. to start the picture in two weeks. All they had left were days. After that, it would be open season on them. And Leslie knew it too. He couldn't deny it. And he worried about it for her. She was a very private, retiring person, and he lived in a very public world, where privacy was hard to come by and anonymity unheard of. They had been unusually lucky and extremely careful for the past three months. But once he went back to Los Angeles and on location in Venice, every move they made would be in the tabloids and the press. Coco needed to at least see it and taste it, before she agreed to a steady diet of it forever.

“Just take it one day at a time,” he said as her cell phone rang. It was Jane, just checking in. Ever since the explosion with their mother, she had been calling a little more often. It had cleared the air for them somewhat. Leslie got up, came around the table, and kissed Coco before leaving the kitchen. He hadn't had a satisfactory answer to his question about marriage, but he knew it would take time for Coco to adjust to the realities of his life. She seemed less frantic about it than she had in the beginning, but he hadn't convinced her yet. He wasn't ready to give up by any means, and he left her to talk to her sister. He had every intention of bringing up the subject again. Coco was grateful that he wasn't pressuring her about it. She was upset enough that he was going to be leaving San Francisco soon.

Coco asked Jane how her pregnancy was going, and she said it was fine. She said that she and Liz were excited about it, and it was still hard for them to believe that in five months there would be a baby in their house. Coco couldn't believe it either, and the thought of it still seemed odd to her. She had never in a million years thought of Jane as a mother, and still couldn't. She knew her too well, or maybe not well enough.

“At least I can tell you that your house works perfectly for a six-year-old. Leslie's daughter was here for two weeks, and she loved it. We had a ball.” There was a brief silence at the other end as her sister listened and didn't comment.

“How was that, by the way?” Jane asked coolly.

“Great. She's the cutest kid you've ever seen. I hope you have a girl, just like her.”

“Sounds like she was a big hit,” Jane said, sounding cautious. “I hope she didn't break anything.”

“Of course not. She's beautifully behaved.” Her sister's tone of voice made Coco faintly nervous, particularly after the conversation she had just had with Leslie, and she could feel herself saying too much to cover her discomfort. “We took her everywhere, the zoo, the cable car, Chinatown, Sausalito, the wax museum. We had a great time with her.”

“'We'? Is there something you haven't told me, Coco?” She still couldn't believe that Liz's suspicions were right, but what she was hearing suddenly concerned her. “Is something going on with you and Leslie?” she asked bluntly, and there was a long pause at Coco's end. She could have lied to her, and had before, but this was all part of what she and Leslie had been talking about. It was time for them to come out. And it made more sense to do it with family first. As a trial balloon, she decided to make a clean breast of it with Jane.

She said it in a single word. “Yes.” She had no idea what would come next. Astonishment probably, but maybe approval since he was Jane's friend. For once, Jane couldn't tell her that he was unsuitable and from a different world, as she had with Ian and everyone else. But Coco was wrong again.

“Are you insane? Do you have any idea who he is in the real world? He's the biggest star on the planet. The media will eat you alive. You're a dog-walker from Bolinas, for chrissake, have you considered what they'll do with that?”

“I'm also Buzz Barrington's daughter, and Florence Flowers's, and your sister. I grew up in that world.”

“And dropped out to become a hippie. He's been linked to half the sophisticated women in the world and every movie star alive. They'll eat you for lunch and spit you out. You'll be an embarrassment to him. How could you do anything so stupid? I ask you to live in my house and take care of my dog, and you wind up fucking my houseguest who just happens to be a world-renowned movie star. What were you both thinking of?” She was as mean and thoughtless as ever as she barreled down on Coco, as she always had. Coco sat listening with tears in her eyes.

“Actually, we were thinking we fell in love,” Coco said quietly, hating her and everything she said, and worse yet, fearing she was right.

“How could you be so stupid? That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. He'll forget you in five minutes when he goes back to work. He'll be sleeping with his costar, all over the tabloids, and all you'll be is a joke, and another notch on his belt. Believe me, I know Leslie well.” He wandered back into the kitchen at that precise moment and saw the look of devastation on Coco's face. And he knew instantly that her sister had just done it to her again. It never failed. Being friends with Jane was one thing, but Leslie knew she could be a raving bitch, especially to her kid sister. He ran a hand over Coco's shoulders and she turned away from him, which worried him. She had never done that before.

“We'll have to see how it shakes out when he goes back,” Coco said cryptically as Leslie walked out of the room again. He didn't want to intrude on them. He was always polite, respectful, and discreet.

“It's not going to shake anywhere,” Jane said cruelly, “trust me, it will be over the day he leaves. It already is. You just don't know it yet. There's no future in this for you. I'm sure he's a great lay, but that's all you're ever going to get out of this. You'd be an embarrassment to him in his own world.” Coco wanted to tell her that they'd just been talking marriage, but she didn't dare. And listening to what Jane had said, she felt sick. Jane was right. She was deluding herself if she thought she could hold her own in Leslie's world. “I hope you get a grip, and wake up and smell the coffee, Coco. At least don't humiliate yourself by hanging on to him. When he leaves, let it go with grace. You never should have gotten involved with him while you were staying at the house. I thought you were smarter than that, or had a little more self-respect than to be a piece of ass for a hottie like him.” What she said was cruel, but given the opportunity, Jane often was. To Coco anyway. She always had been. Pregnant or not, nothing had changed.

“Thanks very much,” Coco said, choking on her misery. All she wanted was to get off. “Talk to you soon,” she said, and hit the red button on her cell phone, as tears slid down her cheeks. She didn't want to give Jane the satisfaction of hearing her cry. Leslie looked at her as he walked back in.

“What the hell happened? What did she do to you now? I used to like her, and I swear I've come to hate her ever since I met you and see what she does to you. She's always been a good friend to me, but she treats you like shit and I hate it,” Leslie said, looking unhappy.

“It's a sister thing,” Coco defended her. She could reduce Coco to rubble in minutes. It made him want to do the same to her, so she could fight with someone her own size.

Coco was choking on sobs when he took her in his arms to comfort her.

“She's right,” she said, crying all over his sweater as he held her. “She says I'm a slut and a lunatic, and I'd be an embarrassment to you, and I'm just a notch on your belt, and you've been with the most glamorous women in the world, and the media will eat me up and spit me out and it's over between us the day you leave.” It was one long run-on sentence that spilled all the hurt her sister had inflicted on her, all over both of them. Coco was inconsolable and looked heartbroken, and there was fury in Leslie's eyes.

“I swear, I'm going to kill that woman. What the hell does she know about what the press will do? And who goddamn cares? You're a gorgeous, beautiful, intelligent, dignified, gracious woman, and I would be proud to be at your side. I deserve to be at your feet. Your sister isn't fit to shine your shoes, and she's a nasty, cruel bitch. She's jealous of you. You'll always be younger than she is. I don't give a damn what shit she said to you, Coco. None of it is true. And it's not over when I leave. It's just beginning for us when I leave here. I want you to come with me, and I'm going to tell the world how lucky I am to be with you. And they'll fall in love with you too. And anyone who doesn't is a fool. Ask Chloe,” he said, smiling down at her as he held her, “she knows. And you can't fool a kid, certainly not mine.” Everything he said was right, and was just what she needed to hear, but the meanness of what her sister had said had wounded her very soul.

“You're wrong,” Coco insisted, but there was less force to it now. Leslie had dulled Jane's barbs just enough. “It'll hurt your career.” She sounded like a wounded child, which, whenever she got near her older sister, she was.

“No, losing you would hurt my career, because I would turn into a hopeless drunk.” She giggled through her tears, but Jane had worried her severely, and it was everything Coco was afraid of and didn't want to hear. “She's a monster,” he said soundly. “Don't talk to her again. She owes both of us an apology. I love you, and that's that.” And a moment later, he gently led her upstairs and pulled her onto their bed. It took another hour to calm Coco down, but at least she told him all of it and vented. And he was more furious by the minute. He thought of calling Jane back himself and telling her what he thought of her vicious, senseless attack on her sister and her disrespect for them. But he decided she wasn't worth it and concentrated on Coco instead. He didn't give a damn what Jane thought of them.

And finally, with his gentle words and his kisses, Coco started to relax. He smiled at her, and gently took her clothes off, as she looked up at him. She remembered all too clearly her sister calling her his piece of ass.

“What are you doing?” she said softly, as he kissed her on the neck and sent a shiver down her spine.

“I thought I'd try that disgusting thing again. I want to be sure I get it right. It takes a lot of practice to do something like that,” he said, and Coco laughed. And by the time he had finished undressing her, she no longer cared what Jane had said. Leslie was the love of her life.

Chapter 11

Once Chloe left, the last two weeks of Leslie's stay in San Francisco went by much too fast. They tried to cherish every moment and were together constantly. He had a lot to do to get organized before starting his next film, and he stayed with Coco until the last minute. He was only going to be in L.A. for ten days before he left for Italy on location, and he wanted Coco to come down and visit. She promised that she would for a few days.

She didn't speak to Jane again for several days after her attack. Jane tried calling her the next day, and Coco didn't answer. She'd heard enough from her, and had no need or desire for more of the same. Jane told Liz about it the next morning before leaving for the set, and Liz wasn't startled to hear about the romance between Leslie and Coco, but she was disturbed by Jane's reaction.

“Why are you so upset about it?” Liz asked as she poured them both coffee.

“He's my friend, not hers,” Jane said, almost visibly pouting, as though she felt left out or out of control.

“He may be your friend,” Liz reminded her, “but now he's her boyfriend. That's a different relationship and a special bond. He's a nice guy and a serious person, and I don't think he plays around as much as you think. I don't think he'd be irresponsible with her, he's an honorable man.”

“He used to play around all the time,” Jane insisted.

“So did everyone,” Liz said, looking at her partner with worried eyes. She could only imagine the things Jane had said and how hurtful they must have been. “Is that what you're afraid of? That he's just fooling around with her? Are you protecting your sister, or is it that you don't want her involved with your friends? If that's the case, it's not fair to her. She did us a favor, and if we let him stay at the house, what happened between them after that is really their business, not ours.”

“He's going to make a fool of her,” Jane said, glowering at Liz.

“I don't agree with you,” Liz said staunchly. “I don't think it's fair of you to assume that. They're both adults, they know what they're doing and what they want. Just like we do.”

“Why are you always on everyone else's side? My mother, Coco. Every time they do something stupid or outrageous, you champion their cause,” Jane said petulantly.

“I love you, but I don't always agree with you. And in this case, I think you're wrong.”

“What does he want with her? She's just a dog-walker, for God's sake.”

“Don't be such a snob. She's a lot more than that, and you know it. And even if she weren't, he has a right to fall in love with her. I think he'd be good for her, if she can handle what goes with his success.”

“She can't,” Jane said, sounding convinced. “She doesn't have the guts. She ran away from L.A., and she dropped out of law school. She's a quitter.”

“No, she's not!” Liz said firmly. “And whatever they decide to do is up to them.”

“He's going to drop her like a hot brick the minute he starts his next film, which is in about two weeks, I think. How long do you think it'll last after that? He'll be sleeping with his leading lady, and he'll forget all about Coco, living like a hippie at the beach.”

“Maybe not. Maybe this is for real,” Liz insisted. For some reason, she had the feeling that it was. They had been so careful to protect their secret that it made her think that they were serious about each other. She hoped that was the case. She was very fond of them both. “She has the right to find out for herself what this is all about and means to both of them. If he's not serious about her, she'll figure it out soon enough.”

“And so will half the world when they read about it in the tabloids. They don't need that headache, and neither do we. I love Leslie, but I don't need to read about my sister being his latest fling.”

“I think she must be more than that to him. He cares about you too, and he wouldn't take advantage of your sister and have a fling just for the hell of it.”

“They're both crazy if they think this would ever work. Take my word for it, it won't, even if they're serious about it now. The kind of pressure he's under is way too much for Coco to handle. She's going to collapse like a house of cards.”

“I think you should give her more credit than that. She didn't fall apart when Ian died.”

“No, she just became a recluse for the last two years. And what happens when the tabloids start stalking our house and hers? Who needs it? She lives in a dream world, Liz, and so does he if he thinks she can be part of his real life. The press will make fun of her.”

“Maybe not. She can get it together if she wants.”

“She'll never go back to live in L.A. And he can't live in that shack at the beach with her. He has a major career, even bigger than ours.”

“Let's see what happens,” Liz said quietly. “And I think all of that is beside the point. If she's going to try and do this, she needs our support. She doesn't need you beating her up.”

“I didn't beat her up,” Jane growled at her partner, but they both knew she had. Liz could see it in her eyes. There was guilt all over Jane's face. “I just told her what I thought.”

“Sometimes, with you, that's the same thing. You don't know how much your words can hurt. You can be very sharp.”

“All right, all right. I'll call her,” Jane promised as they got ready to leave the apartment they had rented. The film they were making was going well, and they were going home sooner than planned. In the end, Coco had house-sat for them for the entire time, but it had worked out well for her too. And now they knew why.

But when Jane called Coco later that morning on her cell phone, Coco didn't answer, nor later in the afternoon. Two days later, Jane had understood that Coco didn't want to speak to her. She felt bad by then and had calmed down. She decided to call Leslie then to see what he had to say.

His voice was ice cold when he answered his phone and recognized her number on caller ID.

“What's up?” he said tersely, sounding even more British than usual. Jane recognized in his reaction how much she had hurt her sister, and it made her feel defensive.

“Coco tells me you've been having a hot romance all summer,” Jane said, trying to make light of it, which was what she still believed it was. A summer fling. No matter what Liz said.

“I wouldn't call it that,” he said bluntly. “I fell in love with your sister. She's an extraordinary woman, and a nice one. She's been doing you a favor for the last three months, and I've been the benefactor of it, thanks to your hospitality. There was no need to say the things you did to her. I find it inexcusable. I don't know what bug you've got up your ass, Jane, but I suggest you get a grip on yourself. If you ever speak to her that way again, you can forget me as a friend. I have no use for people like you, who hurt people for the hell of it. What is it? Kind of a sport with you? You live with one of the nicest women in the world, and your sister is another one. I suggest you take lessons from both of them.” He had hit his mark, and Jane felt like she'd been slapped, which was exactly what he had intended. He didn't want Jane upsetting Coco, or telling her he would dump her, forget her, or cheat on her the moment he left. He had never been in love like this in his life.

“I don't need you to tell me how to talk to my sister. I told her what I thought, and I still do. Don't bullshit me, Leslie. You're going to be in bed with your costar the minute you start the movie, and you won't give two shits about Coco, or remember her, by next week.” They had known each other for a long time.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” he said angrily. “There's no need to be rude to me, or to Coco. I have nothing more to say to you until you learn some manners, or buy yourself a heart. Maybe Liz can lend you half of hers since it's twice the normal size. There are only two big things on you, Jane. Your talent and your mouth. I respect the former immensely but I want nothing to do with the latter. Just leave Coco alone.”

“Why? Because I told her the truth? You wouldn't be this angry at me if that weren't the case. It sounds like I spoiled your game.”

“There is no game here,” he said quietly. “I'm in love with your sister. And if I have any luck at all, I'm hoping to convince her to live with me in L.A.”

“Don't count on it. She's phobic about L.A., and everything it represents. She had some kind of childhood trauma, growing up around famous, successful people. She hates all of us, and eventually that will mean you too. She can't handle it. And if I know Coco, she won't even try.”

“I give her more credit than that,” he said coolly, praying Jane was wrong. She had a way of cutting close to the bone.

“You'll be disappointed by her, Leslie,” Jane said, quieter now too. They were an even match, which wasn't the case between the two sisters, as they both knew. Coco was no match for Jane. She was neither mean nor tough. “We're all disappointed by her. She may have started this with you, but she won't finish it. She'll drop out. She doesn't have what it takes to see it through, or live your way of life. That's why she's a dog-walker instead of an attorney, and she lives where she does, among surfers who dropped out of the real world forty years ago. That will be her one day. It already is.” There was bitterness in her voice.

“Why does it bother you so much that she's a dog-walker and dropped out of law school?” he asked, hitting the nail on the head. Jane was such an overachiever, obsessed with performance and success that she couldn't deal with what Coco had chosen to do. “It doesn't bother me in the least. I respect her for having the courage not to compete with all of you. It's not a fair race for her. She's not as tough as the rest of you. Or as mean, thank God. She's a gentle person who has found her own way.”

“Thank you for your analysis of my sister. Believe me, I know her better than you. I love her, but she's a flake. And she's been lost all her life.”

“I think I know her better than you do now. She's a much better person than you or me. She doesn't sell out. She follows what she believes, and she lives it.”

“If you have her believing she can handle the kind of heat you take on a daily basis, you're kidding yourself and her. She'll collapse like a soufflé the first time the cameras go off in her face, or she sees you in some star's arms. She'll run like hell.”

“I'll do everything in my power to see that that doesn't happen,” he assured her sister, but he was worried about that too. And so was Coco. It wasn't an easy life being a star, or loving one. And Coco knew that well.

“Good luck,” Jane said, sounding sarcastic, and they were both annoyed when they hung up. He hated the way Jane treated her sister and the things she said about her. She was so uncharitable and so merciless in her assessments and attacks. Jane gave no one a break. And Jane hated the fact that he was defending Coco. Who did he think he was? She was still angry when she told Liz about it that night. But at least Liz knew that Leslie could hold his own. Unlike Coco, who was wounded by her sister's razor tongue every time.

Leslie told Coco about the call from Jane when they went for a walk on Crissy Field that afternoon with Sallie and Jack. She said nothing as she listened, and he had censored some of their exchange so as not to injure Coco further, but he wanted her to know that he had stuck up for her. He thought it was time someone did. They were holding hands as they walked.

“You didn't have to do that for me,” she said softly. “I can defend myself.” But not as well as he, Leslie thought, remembering the things Jane had said. No one could survive that barrage. He thought it a mercy that Jane had already left the house when Coco was growing up.

“You shouldn't have to defend yourself against your sister. That's not what family is about. Or it shouldn't be.”

“They were all like that,” Coco said, thinking of her parents and sister. “I couldn't wait to leave.”

“I can see why. I hate the things she says to you, the assumptions she makes. I can't bear the fact that she thinks I was just playing with you, that this was just a passing affair, for either of us. You're the woman of my dreams,” he said, and leaned down to kiss her. They stood there for a long moment, kissing on the path, as people jogged and walked around them, smiling at the handsome young couple in each other's arms, and then they walked on. No one recognized him in Coco's arms.

Liz called them both that night and apologized for Jane. She said she had been stressed during the whole time they were on location, and being pregnant was a big change for her. But she was sorry that she had been hard on them. Leslie assured her that he was serious about Coco, and Liz said she understood and wished them well.

It was just one more thing to think about and deal with in their last days together in San Francisco. He took her out for a nice dinner the night before he left. He had asked for a quiet table in the back and made the reservation in Coco's name.

They were both depressed. They had shared a magical three and a half months, and they both knew it would never be quite the same again. Real life was about to intrude, possibly in a very big way. It frightened Coco more, but he was worried too. About how she would react to it, but also being away from her for several months now was going to be very hard for them both. He was dreading the separation as much as she was, and he hated the idea of being so far away once he left for Venice in ten days.

“When can you come down to L.A.?” he asked for the hundredth time.

“I've got Liz's friend Erin to cover me for three days at the end of this week.” He looked relieved as she said it. Jane had worried him. He had been afraid Coco wouldn't come at all. “She'll walk Sallie and Jack too. Jane doesn't want her staying at the house.”

“I'll try to keep my schedule as free as possible, but I'll have to be on the set some of the time. You can be there with me if you like.” He didn't want to be away from her for a minute, and hoped the producer and director didn't want too much of his time. He was going to do as much of it as he could before she arrived.

“See how it goes once you start. I can wait at the hotel.” They were going to be at the Bel-Air, where they had spent the night when she had gone to L.A. with him before. “I can visit my mother if she's not too busy or working on a book.” Coco knew that if she was writing, she wouldn't see anyone at all. “I'll call her once you know your plans. You're my priority while I'm there, not my mom,” she said, smiling at him, and his heart melted again.

Their last night together was sweet and tender. They made love several times, and Coco lay in bed awake at dawn, watching the sun come up, as Leslie slept in her arms. She couldn't imagine being there now without him. It was going to be so lonely, and even the house in Bolinas wouldn't be the same. He was part of everything now, and had become inextricably woven into the fabric of her life. But she also knew that his life was far bigger than hers. He had other things to do. The time they had shared in the house on Broadway had been a precious gift. She was grateful to Jane for that, even if she had little faith in what they meant to each other, or what would happen next. She had sent Coco a text message apologizing for shooting her mouth off, as she always did. And Coco had responded, thanking her, but they hadn't spoken to each other again. Her conversation with Leslie had the effect he wanted from it for Coco. Jane had backed off, which was easier for them at least. He didn't give a damn about what Jane thought, only about what she said to Coco. He didn't want Jane upsetting her anymore. And Liz had suggested she let it rest for a while too. Jane was busy anyway finishing up in New York.

Coco had helped Leslie pack the night before. And the car and driver came much too soon. He had production meetings on the set that day and had stayed with her until the last minute. He was catching a nine a.m. flight, and had to leave the house by seven-thirty He stood in the doorway kissing her for a last time.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, smiling at her. “I'll see you soon. I'll call you later, when I have a break. And you'll be in L.A. in a few days.” He said it to reassure himself as much as Coco. He hated leaving her.

“I love you, Leslie,” she said simply, suddenly aware that he no longer belonged just to her. He was going back to his own world, where others owned him too. Producers, directors, film companies, fans, agents, friends. Like it or not, she had to share him now.

“I love you too,” he responded, kissed her one last time, and hurried toward the car. He couldn't miss his flight. The producer had offered to send a plane for him, but it seemed unnecessary and he had said he would take a commercial flight, just like everyone else. And since Coco wouldn't be with him, he didn't have to worry about protecting her from prying eyes.

She waved as the town car drove away, and he stuck an arm out the window and blew her kisses as they headed toward Divisadero, turned right, and disappeared.

She walked back into the house, wanting to cry. She went upstairs and lay down on their bed, which she would be returning to her sister and Liz soon. It wouldn't be the same without Leslie now anyway. She got up finally and put on a sweatshirt and jeans. She had to go to work. All she could think of now was him. She felt as though someone had ripped half her heart away.

He called her from the airport while she was walking the big dogs. She was out of breath from running, and he was about to board the plane.

“Don't forget I love you!” he reminded her.

“Me too,” she said, smiling. They talked for a few minutes until he was seated in first class, and the flight attendant told him to turn off his phone.

She went through all the motions of what had once been her life, and now seemed like nothing without him. She wondered how only four months before she had thought this was enough. It no longer was.

She walked all the dogs on her schedule, and went downtown at four o'clock. She had shopping to do. If she was going to meet him in L.A., she had to look respectable. It had been years since she owned clothes like that. She stayed downtown until the stores closed, and returned with a van full of shopping bags. She had even bought two suitcases to put them in. When she met him in L.A., she was going to make him proud.

Chapter 12

The plane took off from San Francisco airport at ten A.M. She was landing at LAX at eleven, and Leslie was meeting her at the Bel-Air Hotel at noon. He was sending a car and driver to the airport for her. He was hoping to spend two hours with her at lunch-time between meetings, and then he had to go back. They were planning to stay in that night. But the next day he was going to a dinner the producer was giving for the whole cast and major stars. Leslie was taking her with him. It was at the producer's home. It would be their first glimpse of the cast of the movie they were making, and there was a star-studded cast, of which Leslie was the biggest of all. It was going to be Coco's debut, going out with him in an important way. She had bought a sexy black cocktail dress to wear and gorgeous new high heels.

The car and driver were waiting for her at LAX as promised, and picked up her bags. They sped to the Bel-Air Hotel while she tried not to think of what might happen the next day, and concentrated on seeing Leslie instead. She wondered if he'd be different here. Maybe even in the past few days, everything would have changed. What if Jane was right? It was Coco's worst fear.

They had an even bigger suite at the Bel-Air this time, and the same swans were there, swimming in the stream, and wandering the grounds. The hotel was peaceful, and the room was spectacular. She was still looking around after they set down her bags, when she heard the door open and turned to see Leslie beaming at her. He had been terrified she'd change her mind and cancel at the last minute, and he took her in his arms with such force he knocked the breath out of her. They were like two long-lost children who had found each other after a war. The past four days had been agony for both of them.

“I thought you'd never come!” he said, squeezing her tight, and then holding her away so he could look at her. She looked very grown up. She was wearing jeans with a soft white sweater that showed off her figure, a suede jacket, and sexy high heels. Her hair was brushed long, and there were tiny diamond earrings on her ears. He had never seen her that dressed up, and was impressed to see what good taste she had and how well she put herself together. Even when they had gone out to dinner in San Francisco, they had both been casual. He had never seen Coco look that way before. “Wow!” he said with admiration. “You're a knockout!”

“I feel like Cinderella at the ball. I may turn into a pumpkin any minute.”

“Well, if you do, you're my pumpkin, and I will chase you all over the kingdom with the glass slipper.” Her shoes were Louboutin and worthy of any star. As a connoisseur of stylish women, he recognized the signature red soles. “I like the ones you're wearing, by the way.” He was full of admiration and praise of her. And he looked wonderful to her too. He was wearing one of his perfectly tailored custom-made English shirts, jeans, and alligator loafers, with a cashmere sweater over his shoulders. He'd had a haircut, and they had put a rinse in his hair to cover the few wisps of gray. It was even darker than before. He looked like the Leslie Baxter she had seen on the screen a hundred times before. But his eyes told her he was hers. That was all she wanted to know.

She complimented him on the fancy room, which he said was courtesy of the producer. “He said we can use his house in Malibu for the weekend. We should be private there. It's in the Colony, so we'll be secluded.” He had thought of everything to make her happy and keep them safe from prying eyes. He poured them each a glass of champagne. “To our future,” he said happily and then kissed her. She helped herself to a giant strawberry and fed one to him, and ten minutes later they were in bed. It seemed like centuries since she had been in his arms, and they both wanted to make up for lost time. They never got around to ordering lunch, and he had to rush back to the studio for another meeting to address the director's changes in the script. Coco got into the bath as he left, and he promised to be back by six.

She called her mother that afternoon, and her secretary told Coco that she was writing a new book. Coco didn't say she was in L.A., and she spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the grounds and reading a book she had brought with her. The weather was warm, and Leslie came back an hour late at seven. They stayed in the room that night and ordered dinner, watched TV, and talked about his meeting. He liked the cast and the producer, he knew the director and said he was difficult but usually got great results. He had worked with him before. They weren't starting in earnest until they got to Venice. He complained a little about one of his costars, and he commented that Madison Allbright, the female lead, who Coco knew was a megastar, was a very pretty girl.

“Should I be worried?” she asked, as they lay on the couch in the living room of the suite, with his head in her lap. She was stroking his hair, and he looked like a sleepy cat as he lay there, nearly purring with pleasure. He had missed her incredibly in the past four days.

“You don't need to worry about anything or anyone,” he reassured her. “I'm the one who should be worried, the way you looked when you arrived.” She had hung all her new clothes in the closet, and had sent the cocktail dress out to be pressed, so it would be impeccable for the producer's party the following night. Leslie hadn't told her yet that there would be press at the party. He didn't want to scare her. But there was no reason to worry. As far as they knew, she was just a date. It was only after they'd seen her a few times that they would catch on that this was a hot item, and she was his new romance. His psychotic ex-girlfriend was already engaged, so that was ancient history and of no interest anymore. Their brief alliance had been typical of Hollywood romances that came and went, even though it had been more troublesome than most, but at least he had managed to keep that out of the press, despite her statements and accusations that he was gay. Everyone had forgotten that by now.

They went to bed early since he had an early meeting, and Chloe called them before they fell asleep. She was up late with a babysitter, she said, her mother was out. She had started school that day and told them all about it. She was in first grade, and said she already had lots of friends. She reported to Coco that the pink bear named after her was doing well. For Coco, it was a taste of their summer idyll to talk to her again.

They both slept like tired children in the comfortable bed, and the operator woke them at seven the next morning. Leslie had to be at the studio no later than eight that morning, and he had a long day ahead. He told her with regret that he wouldn't be able to meet her for lunch as they were working straight through till six or seven, to address all of the director's notes for them. The party they were attending was scheduled to start at eight. Leslie was coming back to change and pick her up. And she said she'd be dressed by then. She was planning to get her hair done that afternoon.

“Will you be all right today?” he asked, looking worried as he finished breakfast. He had a cup of coffee to wake him up, while she drank tea.

“I'll be fine.” She smiled at him. “I'll do some shopping and go to the museum.” It had once been her city, and she knew it well. There were old friends she could have seen, but she didn't want to. She came here so seldom now that she had lost touch with most of them. And her life was very different than her classmates who had turned into Beverly Hills housewives, or were in the entertainment field now themselves, either acting or producing. She was one of the few who had fled. Most of them loved L.A.

Leslie kissed her goodbye when he left, and told her that he had ordered a car and driver for her. She showered and dressed and left the hotel herself at ten. No one paid any attention to her since there was nothing to link her to Leslie yet. She was still an anonymous civilian as she wandered in and out of shops on Melrose, ate lunch at Fred Segal, and went to the L.A. County Museum of Art. She was at the hairdresser at the hotel by four o'clock, and back in their room by six. She had just enough time to bathe, do her makeup, and dress, before Leslie walked in promptly at seven. He looked exhausted and was carrying his dog-eared script with a million jotted notes on it. They were getting new scripts the next day, which would include all the changes they'd just made. He had a lot of complicated lines to learn.

“How was your day?” he asked when he kissed her. It was a thrill for him to see her when he finished work. She was the peace and haven he came to, to seek refuge from the pressures he lived with when he was working. He loved having her be part of his normal life. It was everything he had hoped for when they talked about it, and he had never dared to dream.

“It was fun,” Coco said, looking relaxed and happy, as he smiled admiringly at what she was wearing. She had on a thong, a black lace bra, her earrings, and high-heeled shoes, and her hair looked long and smooth. She was going to put her dress on at the last minute so she didn't crease it before that.

“Nice dress,” he teased her, admiring her long shapely legs and perfect figure. He thought she looked fantastic. She had had a manicure and pedicure at the hairdresser too. Even before she put her dress on, she looked beautiful and sophisticated. The dog-walker he'd fallen in love with in San Francisco had transformed into a swan. He loved the original version, but he had to admit, he liked this one too.

He rushed into the bathroom to shower and shave, and he emerged a few minutes later, freshly shaven, with wet hair, buttoning an impeccable white shirt. He put on black slacks, a black cashmere blazer, and black alligator loafers, and while he was dressing, she put on the black cocktail dress. It was both sexy and demure, just low enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, but covered enough to be discreet. She looked so beautiful she took his breath away, and they stood admiring each other with a look of pleasure. It was the first night they were going out in public together in Leslie's world.

“You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen,” he said, looking dazzled by her as they left the room. She had a small black satin clutch under her arm. Everything she'd bought had been chic and enhanced her looks to perfection. He tucked her hand in his arm as they walked to the driveway to the car waiting for them, and a photographer snapped their picture. Coco looked startled for a moment and then recovered as they got into the car. She didn't comment, and Leslie patted her hand gently, and they chatted all the way to the producer's house which was nearby in Bel-Air.

When they got there, it was a palatial mansion and there were valet parkers. It was obviously a bigger party than they'd expected, but there were a lot of big-name stars associated with the film. There were no paparazzi outside, and Leslie whisked her in, relieved that there weren't, and a moment later they were standing in a marble hallway with a grand staircase and an art collection worthy of the Louvre. There were two Renoirs, a Degas, and a Picasso, and as they walked into the living room, a crowd of people stood among beautiful antiques and priceless art. The producer greeted them warmly and kissed Coco's cheek.

“I've heard a lot about you,” he said, smiling warmly at her. “I knew your father. He was my agent for many years. I know your mother and sister too. You come from a bloodline of Hollywood legends, my dear.” As he said it, Leslie smiled at a spectacular-looking woman who approached them, and Coco realized instantly who she was. It was Madison Allbright, his leading lady in the film.

“Maddie, I'd like you to meet Coco,” Leslie said as he brought the two women together and their host disappeared into the crowd as other guests continued to arrive.

“He hasn't stopped talking about you all week,” Madison said, smiling at her. She was wearing jeans, high heels, and a loose rhinestone-studded top. She had an incredible figure and a mane of long blond hair. She was the same age as Coco and looked about eighteen, with huge eyes and flawless skin.

The two women chatted for a few minutes as Coco tried not to be overly impressed by the people she was meeting. She reminded herself that she had met people as important as they were in her parents' home, but it had been a long time since then. She was more nervous than she seemed. But Leslie never strayed from her, he introduced her to everyone and kept an arm around her waist most of the time. He wanted her to feel his support. He knew this wasn't easy for her.

And before dinner was served, members of the press emerged from the crowd, seemingly out of nowhere, and began taking pictures of all the major stars. Leslie was top of their list. The first reporter looked inquiringly at Coco and raised an eyebrow. She looked straight into Leslie's eyes and asked the question his fans would want to know: “Someone new?”

“Not so new,” Leslie answered, laughing. “We've known each other for a long time. I've been a family friend for years,” he said, keeping a firm arm around her waist. He could feel Coco tremble, and took her hand in his.

“What's her name?” the female reporter asked him.

“Colette Barrington,” Coco answered for herself, using her full name.

“Are you one of Florence Flowers's daughters?” she inquired, scribbling hastily on her pad.

“Yes, I am.”

“I read all her books. And I love your sister's movies,” she said with a barracuda-like smile. Coco knew the type well. “Whose dress are you wearing?”

She wanted to say “mine,” but knew she had to play the game. If she had agreed to come with him, she had to do this right for Leslie. She owed him that at the very least. “Oscar de la Renta.”

“Very pretty,” she commented, jotting that down too, and then turned back to Leslie, as a photographer took their picture with his arm around her. “So, Leslie, is it serious or what?” “What” being just another pretty face.

“Miss Barrington was kind enough to join me this evening, which is a huge imposition for any civilized person,” he said, flashing his dazzling smile at the reporter. “I don't think we need to destroy her reputation quite yet.” The reporter laughed at what he said, and it seemed to satisfy her for the moment.

“When do you leave for Venice?” she asked with interest.

“Next week.” He knew all the pat answers and how to fend off what he didn't want to address.

“Are you excited about working with Madison Allbright?”

“Extremely,” he said with an exaggerated look of delight, and the reporter laughed again. “I mean, look at the shirt she's wearing. All those rhinestones would dazzle any man, or blind them.” He looked serious then. “She's a wonderful actress, and I'm honored to be working with her. I'm sure she'll do a fantastic job.”

“Good luck with the film,” the reporter said, and moved on to someone else. She asked the same kinds of questions to everyone, as did half a dozen others who had been invited into the inner sanctum of the producer's home. They had been carefully chosen as to the publications that would do them the most good. Leslie whispered to Coco under his breath that it was a cattle show. A dozen photographers were there as well, taking pictures of everyone. They all got a turn with Leslie and Coco, they took some shots with her and others with him alone, and three of them wanted photographs of him and Madison. They cooperated fully with the press, and then the reporters and photographers were ushered out, and dinner was served at tables around the pool. There were orchids on every table and hundreds in the water. Leslie looked at her carefully when they sat down.

“Are you all right?” She had done a fantastic job with the press, just the right amount of pleasant and polite, a warm smile, and no information about anything but her dress. It was such a relief to be with someone who hadn't crawled all over him or kissed him, or draped herself on him like a snake, which most of the actresses he went out with did, to further their careers. She wasn't fighting him for the limelight or pretending a relationship they didn't have, although in their case they did. But she was so elegant and poised that you couldn't really tell if she was just a date for the evening, or something more. He was grateful for her discretion. And he could tell as he watched her that she had experienced this kind of thing before, and she did it well, better than she knew.

“I'm fine,” she said, smiling at him. It would have been a perfect evening without the press, but that couldn't be avoided. She had suspected they might be there but didn't dare to ask. She hadn't wanted to scare herself more than she already was.

“You were splendid,” he whispered, and then introduced her to everyone at their table, most of whom were actors in the film, and their significant others.

It was a beautiful evening, and they thanked the producer and his wife when they left. They were among the first to leave. Leslie had had enough, he had sung for his supper, and he could see that Coco was tired too.

There were four photographers waiting outside to take photographs of the guests as they left, and they leaped toward Leslie as he smiled at them and didn't flinch, and held Coco's hand. “What's her name?” one of them shouted at him.

“Cinderella!” Leslie answered. “Be careful or you'll turn into one of the mice,” he quipped as he slipped gracefully into the car and pulled Coco in beside him just as quickly. They closed the door and drove away, as Leslie heaved a sigh of relief and looked at her. “It may please you to know, my darling, that I hate those evenings too. They're a bloody lot of work. I feel like my face may fall off if I smile one more time.”

“You were fantastic,” she said, smiling proudly at him.

“So were you. Did you hate every minute of it?” he asked, looking concerned.

“No,” she said honestly. “In a weird way, it was fun. Though a little goes a long way. Madison is gorgeous,” she commented, trying not to look worried, but she was. She remembered everything her sister had said about him and his costars, and so did he.

“I think you're far more beautiful than she is. She looked vulgar in that shirt. And her new breasts are about four sizes too big. I swear they've doubled since I last saw her. You looked far prettier and more elegant than she did. I was very, very proud to be with you,” he said, and obviously meant it. “Thank you for putting up with it.”

“I loved being with you,” she said honestly. She hadn't even minded the press as much as she thought she would. “If it never gets any worse than that, I can deal with it.”

He looked unhappy to admit it to her, but he wanted to be honest. “It gets a lot worse than that. They were all on their best behavior tonight, or they would have been tossed out on their ears, or worse.” He smiled at her again, as they arrived at the hotel, and walked quickly back to their room in case one of the photographers had followed them, but no one did. He used bodyguards to accompany him at times, but not tonight. Everything about the evening had been well controlled and very tame.

Leslie took his jacket and shoes off and sprawled out on the couch, and then he remembered something the producer had given him, and fished it out of his pocket to show her. “I have the keys to the house in Malibu. We have it for the weekend,” he said victoriously, and tossed them on the table. It was Friday night, and he was planning to take her there in the morning whenever they woke up, hopefully not soon.

Coco took her dress off and hung it up, and followed him into the bedroom. The evening had been a success, and she had survived it. It was exciting being with him, and she had felt how proud he was of her. She was equally so of him. And a few minutes later they both slipped gratefully into bed. As nice as it had been, it had been exhausting for him, and even for her, and they were both glad it was over. Now they could play for the rest of the weekend. Leslie was so tired, he was asleep before she could turn off the light. She kissed his cheek gently, and he didn't even stir. He was dead to the world. It had been a long day for him.

They ordered room service the next morning when they woke up, and Leslie carefully perused the paper. Without comment, he handed it to her. It was there, a large photograph of them talking to Madison Allbright. Coco's name appeared below the photograph, but it made no further comment. It looked totally appropriate.

“Well done,” Leslie said, looking pleased.

Half an hour later they walked out of the hotel, and left for Malibu. They found the producer's house easily. The refrigerator had been stocked with everything they might need, and the house was spectacular, right on the beach in the Colony. Coco felt like Cinderella again. It was a fairy-tale life with him.

“It's not exactly Bolinas,” she commented with a grin. It was an enormous house, designed by a famous architect and decorator, everything was white and pale blue, and there was a gigantic four-poster bed in their room.

It was the perfect weekend. They walked on the beach, slept in comfortable chairs on the deck, played cards, watched movies, made love, and talked about a thousand things. It was exactly the break they needed, and he promised to come to Bolinas the following weekend. He was planning to leave for Venice from San Francisco. It was more complicated for him, but he wanted to be with her until he left.

“What about coming over to see me once I settle in?” he asked lazily as they lay on the deck after a long walk on the beach.

“I don't think I can until Jane and Liz come home. And I'm not sure I can get coverage for that long, but I'll try. You'll be working hard anyway” she said sensibly and he looked disappointed. He didn't want to wait to see her until he came back from Italy.

“I have to go back to the hotel at some point. And you can hang out on the set, or discover Venice. It's a lovely city.” But more important, Coco thought he was a lovely man.

“I'll try. I promise. Liz said they'd be home in about two weeks.” A week after he left. “I'll see if I can get Erin to cover for me.” She was working for Coco that weekend, and she seemed to like the money and the work, which was a blessing for them. Coco had the feeling she might be using her often, if Erin was willing. She had another part-time job, and they still had to work it out.

“I'm going to go crazy without you,” Leslie said, looking sad. “I hate being away from you,” he confessed, but she didn't like it either. It had been an agonizing four days without him when he left San Francisco. And this was only the beginning. He went on location a lot, often for many months of the year.

“I'm going to miss you too,” she said, trying not to think about it. But at least he was coming to Bolinas the next weekend before he left.

He wanted to ask her if she was feeling any better about moving to L.A. to be with him, but he didn't dare. He knew it was too soon. And things were not always going to go as smoothly as they had the night before. That had been a carefully orchestrated dog and pony show. At other times, left to their own devices, the press got out of control, and a feeding frenzy occurred. He knew just how much Coco would hate that, and he did too. But it was part of the territory for him, and not for her. She didn't have to put up with it, he did. And at its worst, it was insane, and no way for a sane person to live.

They went back to the hotel on Sunday afternoon. There was a lone photographer waiting outside, and he took their photograph as they got out of the car. Coco could see that Leslie was annoyed, but he flashed the camera a brilliant smile. His philosophy was that if they got you, at least look good and not like an ax murderer about to strike. It was why she had almost always seen him looking smiling and pleasant in the press.

They hurried to their room and he didn't follow them. Paparazzi were not tolerated on the grounds of the Bel-Air. And they stayed in their room with the shades drawn until she left. They made love and slept for a while, and reluctantly, he woke her, and she packed, took a shower with him, and dressed. She was taking the last plane back to San Francisco. Erin couldn't cover for her any longer. They'd had three days, and Leslie had to work long hours all week on final meetings.

Leslie carried her bags himself so they didn't have to call a bellman, and he handed them to the driver, and as he turned to say something to Coco, a series of flashes went off in their faces. It was the staccato of strobes, and Coco was temporarily blinded as she felt someone shove her, and the next thing she knew she flew through the air into the car before she knew what hit her. Leslie landed on top of her, and he was shouting to the driver to pull away, and they sped off. She was breathless as she turned to look at Leslie as he settled back against the seat.

“What was that?” she asked in amazement.

“Paparazzi. A whole flock of them. My darling, there goes your reputation. You will no longer be considered just a date for an evening. Now the fun begins.” He looked resigned as he said it. He had been through it a thousand times before, but this was her first taste of what lay ahead. “Did I hurt you when I pushed you?” he asked with a look of concern, and she shook her head.

“It all happened so fast I didn't know what hit me. I didn't know if they pushed me or you did.”

“I didn't want them swamping you completely. They would have. There were about ten of them. I suppose the word has gotten out, or they were just checking. They got what they wanted, so now they'll be hot on the trail. I'm glad you're leaving tonight. It would be annoying for you.” And they would have no idea where to find her in San Francisco, which was a blessing. Leslie looked unruffled, and Coco took her cue from him and tried not to let it upset her. But there was no question, their secret was out now. Welcome to Leslie's world. And he was right, it was not always as tame as the night before. This had been somewhat rougher, although he had protected her quickly, with the instincts born of experience and practice.

He walked her to the security line in the airport, and kissed her. There were no photographers there. Only people who glanced at him, and then started as they recognized him, and then whispered to each other. And it was only after he kissed her and walked away that someone stopped him for an autograph. He waved at her, and she smiled at him, and then went through security. She already missed him, and she could feel the coach turning into a pumpkin as she walked to the gate alone.

Chapter 13

Much to Coco's amazement, her mother called her at eight o'clock the next day just before she left for work.

“Good lord, now what are you up to?” She had no idea what her mother meant. She had overslept after getting in late the night before, and she was rushing to pick up her first set of dogs.

“I'm on my way to work. Why?”

“Well, you must be doing more than that these days. There's all sorts of gossip about you and Leslie Baxter in this morning's paper. It says you spent the weekend with him at the Bel-Air and you're his latest fling. When did that happen?” her mother asked with interest.

“Over the summer,” Coco said cautiously. She didn't want to discuss it with her mother, or hear the kind of comments she'd gotten from Jane. Her mother had been taken down a notch or two over her affair with a much younger man, but she was still the same person she had always been. And she had never approved of any man in Coco's life. If she did this time, it would be a first, and Coco didn't think it was likely. Some things never changed.

“Don't you think he's a bit racy for you?” “He's a pretty normal person, when he's not in L.A.” “They all are, or most of them, when they're somewhere else. But Coco, he's a very, very big star, and you aren't. In the end, he'll go back to his own kind. You're probably a breath of fresh air for him, but that won't last,” her mother warned her, echoing more politely what her sister had said.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Coco said tersely. “I can't talk about it now, I'm late for work.”

“Well, have fun with him, but don't take it seriously.” “Is that how you feel about Gabriel?” Coco asked. “Of course not. Why would you say a thing like that? We've been together for a year, and we have great respect for each other. It's not just a summer fling,” she said, sounding offended. “Well, maybe this isn't either. We'll see what happens.” “You'll get your heart broken when he leaves you for some famous actress. Besides, he's too old for you.” Coco rolled her eyes as she listened.

“I can't believe that you of all people are saying that to me. I've got to go, Mom.”

“Well, just be careful. Enjoy it while it lasts.” They both hung up, and Coco was upset about it as she got into her van. Why did everyone think he was just going to play with her and dump her? Why couldn't a movie star fall in love too, or be a real person, or want more than just a quick affair with a costar? Why did everyone believe that she meant nothing to him? It was a statement of what they thought of her, even more than what they thought of him. That she was so insignificant that she would mean nothing to him, and it would end, because she didn't deserve him. She was depressed about it all day, and she couldn't talk to Leslie until late afternoon, because he was in meetings. He finally called her at six o'clock and sounded drained.

“Hi, sweetheart. How was your day?” he asked, and she immediately told him about the call from her mother. She had also had a call from Jane, but didn't take it.

“It's all so stereotypical,” she ranted at him. “The movie star and the dog-walker. My mother acts like all I'm good for is a piece of ass, and only a temporary one at that.”

“Don't underrate yourself,” he said seriously. “I think you would make a great piece of ass long term.”

“Oh shut up,” she said, and smiled for the first time all day.

“Don't let it get to you. There was a lot of stuff in the papers today. Including a great shot of me with both hands on your bottom shoving you into the car. I think that one was my favorite.”

“What are they saying?” Coco asked, sounding worried.

“One of the papers said you are my 'latest beauty.' Another one calls you my new mystery girlfriend. It's all pretty standard stuff. We didn't do anything wrong. You weren't falling-down drunk, neither was I. We didn't have sex in public, although we could try that. It just says you're my new hot date, or my current fling or whatever. After we've been around together for a while, it'll calm down. Right now, it's hot news and everyone wants to know where you live and who you are. And you don't live here, and I'm going away, so you're fine.” But what if she did live there, and with him? They'd be all over them every day. It was exactly why she didn't want to move to L.A. “Don't worry about it. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Now we're out in the open and it's done. It's kind of like losing your virginity to the press, it only hurts the first time, and as long as we behave decently in public, we'll be fine.” She thought he was being overly optimistic, but she didn't want to argue with him about it. It was still very much on her mind that night when her mother called her again. Coco almost didn't answer, but in the end she did. She called to tell Coco that some reporter had called her asking where her daughter lived. She wondered if it was the reporter at the party who had asked if she was Florence Flowers's daughter. One of the papers had reported on that fact, according to Leslie. And her mother had had her secretary tell them that she lived in Europe and was only in L.A. for a few days.

“That was clever of you, Mom. Thank you.” She was grateful for that at least, even if her mother thought she wouldn't hold Leslie's interest for long.

“It'll throw them off the scent for a while. When are you seeing him again?” Her mother was curious about them now.

“This weekend. In Bolinas. He leaves next Monday for Venice on location, he'll be gone for a month or two.”

“That may end it between the two of you. He'll be working with his costars all the time, and you'll be six thousand miles away. Hollywood romances don't usually survive that. Absence makes their hearts fonder of the people they're working with, not the ones they leave at home. Kind of like a cruise.”

“Thanks for the reassurance,” Coco said glumly. It was more of what she'd heard before.

“You have to be realistic about it, if you're going to date someone like him.” Coco wanted to ask her how realistic she was about her twelve-year-old boyfriend, but she didn't. She was always more respectful of her mother than Florence was of her. “Who's in the movie with him?” Florence asked with interest.

Coco reeled off the names of his costars, among them Madison Allbright. “She'll probably be the one,” her mother said. “She's a gorgeous girl. It would be hard for any man to resist her.”

“Thank you, Mom,” Coco said, sounding depressed again, and after thanking her mother for covering for her with the press, she got off the phone. She lay in bed awake for hours, thinking about what she'd said. And by morning Coco was in a total panic over Leslie's costar. She was too embarrassed to even say it to him, but she was seriously worried about it, and had a miserable week as a result. She never once mentioned Madison's name to him when they talked. And it was all she could do not to burst into tears when he walked into the house on Friday night. He let himself in with the keys he had kept, and found Coco in the bathtub with her freshly washed hair wrapped in a towel. He took one look at her, burst into a broad smile, took off his clothes, and got into the tub with her, as she grinned.

“Now this is what I call a homecoming,” he said with obvious delight as he kissed her. And within minutes of getting into the tub with her, they made love. And in spite of all her fears during the week, it was a perfect night. It was as though he had never left to go back to L.A. Everything felt as right as it always had.

They left for Bolinas with the dogs the next morning, and the weather was glorious. It was typical late-September weather and hotter than it had been all summer. The nights were warm and balmy, which was rare. And they had never been more in love with each other. There was no sign of his having fallen for Madison Allbright. But then again, they weren't in Venice yet. But Coco was no longer as worried. There was no doubt in her mind, as she lay in his arms on the deck under the stars, that he was as in love with her as she was with him. He said it to her over and over again, and she believed him. There was no reason why she shouldn't. He had begged her again to come to Venice, and she had promised him she would.

He had brought all the press clippings about them from that week. They had run a number of photographs of them, and there was no question now, the media were hot on their trail.

They talked about it over breakfast on Sunday morning.

“We knew it would happen sooner or later,” Leslie said philosophically. “Any new face on the scene snags their interest. They have nothing better to do than look for gossip and juicy stories.”

“I'm not very juicy,” Coco said as she glanced at their photographs again, in every paper, and sipped her tea. “Wait till someone tells them I'm a dog-walker. That'll really do it for them.” Instead they had latched on to who her mother was, which made her more interesting. She had already told him that they had called her mother.

“You're very juicy!” he assured her, and leaned over to kiss her. “What do you think Jane will say if they call her?”

“That I'm a hippie and a flake and a complete zero, or something equally charming,” Coco said, looking sad about it.

“If she does something like that, I'll kill her,” Leslie said with fervor. “You know, I really think it boils down to jealousy with her,” he said, looking pensive, as he glanced at the ocean and then at Coco. “I think she's pissed off that you're beautiful, do what you want, and you'll always be eleven years younger. I think she's just narcissistic enough to consider that an insult. Maybe she was always jealous of you as a little kid, and you just didn't know it. I don't think this has anything to do with your dropping out of law school, or moving to Bolinas. I think that's her excuse.

“I think, bottom line, she's mad at you for what you are and she's not, starting with younger. You're soft, kind, gentle, compassionate. People love you. Jane is tough as nails, she's had to be to get where she is. The only thing warm and fuzzy about Jane is Liz. She'd be unbearable without her. Everyone likes Liz better, and you. That must be tough for her to stomach. And on top of it, she was an adored only child until you came along when she was eleven. And you fucked it all up for her. I think underneath all the bullshit she talks about and accuses you of, she hasn't forgiven you for that yet. She always puts you down, and treats you like a five-year-old.” What he said had a ring of truth to it, even to Coco, and it shed light on her sister's negative attitude toward her, as long as she could remember. His theory certainly explained it.

“The worst part of it is that I act like I'm five years old when I'm around her. She scared me to death when I was a kid. She was always threatening to get me in trouble with Mom or Dad, or treating me like her slave. She still does.” Coco sighed then. “And I let her do it. I don't know what she's so pissed off about. She's always been Mom's favorite, and Dad thought she walked on water, especially when she started producing. And even before that, he was thrilled when she went to film school at UCLA. I don't think my going to Princeton impressed him half as much. He thought it was stuffy. I redeemed myself when I got into law school at Stanford. I don't think I even wanted to. I just did it to make him happy, and then I hated every minute of it. I set myself up to fail. All I really wanted to do was get a master's in art history and work in a museum. He said I'd never make a dime at it, and it was stupid.”

“Why don't you do that now then?” Leslie suggested, his eyes lighting up at the idea. “Either that or become a vet,” he teased her. She loved every dog she walked and treated them like children. But he knew she had a passion for art too. Her tiny house was crammed with art books.

“What would I do with that now? It's a little late to go back to school.”

“No, it isn't. And if it makes you happy, why not? You could go to UCLA, if you come down there to live with me. Or Stanford or Berkeley, if we move up here.” He was still trying to convince her to live with him. It would be easier for him in L.A., but he was open to moving to San Francisco for her.

“Maybe,” she said, looking pensive. “I've always been interested in art restoration. I took a class on it in college, and I thought it was fascinating.” She had never admitted that to anyone but him. Ian wasn't interested in art, only the outdoors, and she was younger then and it suited her too. And her father had thought that any kind of academic pursuit other than law school was a waste of time.

“Why don't you spend some time learning about it? You can decide what to do with it later. Maybe nothing, but I agree with you. I think it would be interesting to know.” She was an entirely different creature than her family, and it was obvious even to Coco that he respected that, and they didn't. He made her feel good about herself. And his theories about Jane's anger toward her struck a chord with her too. “Venice might be particularly fun for you, if you're interested in restoration. They've been fighting to keep the place from falling apart for years. It's an absolute gem of a city.” He had been there before, she hadn't. She had been to Florence and Rome, and Pompeii, and Capri once on a yacht with her parents, but never Venice.

“I'm not going there to see the art.” She smiled at him. “I'm coming to see you.”

“You can do both. I'll be working a lot of the time anyway. And if you're into churches, there are about ten million of them, one more beautiful than the next.” It sounded exciting, and she had promised him she would come when Liz and Jane got back. They hadn't solved the problem of where they would live eventually, or even if they would live together, but little by little they were making plans together, and Coco thought the rest would unfold, if it was meant to be. If she left San Francisco, she would have to close her business. Her father had left her enough to live on comfortably, but she always felt guilty if she wasn't earning a living on her own. And her dog-walking business had proved to be more lucrative than she'd expected, and supplied all her needs. It allowed her to save and invest the rest, which provided a nest egg for her future. She didn't want to be dependent on him. Her mother and sister were both big earners and made a fortune at their careers. Coco had never made a lot of money, but she had a far more modest lifestyle than either of them.

He pressed her several times that afternoon about when she was coming to Venice. All she could tell him was soon, hopefully in a few weeks. Jane and Liz hadn't given her the exact date of their return yet, but she had already warned Erin that she'd be needing her services to cover for her when she left. She wanted to stay with Leslie in Italy for a week or two, although he was hoping to convince her to stay longer.

They went back to the city just after sunset. Leslie drove and Coco looked at the cliffs and the ocean view she loved, thinking about how lucky she was to live there. She didn't feel ready to leave that yet. She'd been happy in Bolinas for the past three years. It would be a sacrifice for her to leave her comfortable, safe haven at the beach. No one bothered her, or intruded on her. There was no press to worry about when she was at the beach cottage with him. It was totally, completely peaceful. But she knew that she would be lonely there now without him. Leslie had become part of everything she did. And his world was light-years away from this. She wondered if maybe, in the future, they could still spend time here when he was between films. He had loved being at the beach with her that summer, but he was used to bigger cities, and a much bigger life. She knew that to some degree, she would have to adjust her life to his. It was inevitable, since he had the more demanding career. For now, she had none at all, just a job.

They spent the night watching an old movie she had never seen before, and loved it. Leslie said it was a classic and he was right. He was knowledgeable about practically every movie ever made. And Coco loved learning about them from him. He wasn't just a handsome actor appearing in commercial hits, he had a profound interest and passion in his trade, and had studied both important and obscure films and what made them great. He had admitted to her once that he wanted to be Sir Laurence Olivier when he grew up, but knew he never would. But he at least wanted to be as good as he could be, in the kind of films he did. Producers tended to cast him in films that capitalized on his looks and charm, but he was a good actor nonetheless, and always had an eye out for more serious parts. He was an excellent performer despite the sometimes lighter roles he played. Jane had said as much about him too, and had a deep respect for his work. He loved doing comedy too, and had a knack for it. He brought his own flair for humor into play, and audiences loved the funny movies he did. But his heart always longed for something deep. Inevitably he had been lured by the fortune to be made doing commercial films. It was hard to resist that kind of money, and they paid him well.

They stayed up late that night, eating ice cream in the kitchen, and talking about the part he was going to play in the current film. He was trying to bring something more to it, and tried out several ideas on Coco, some of which sounded very good to her. She was impressed by how much thought, preparation, and study he put into his roles. She wondered if all actors did that, and Leslie laughed when she said it. “No. Only the good ones.” He admitted to being worried about working with Madison. He had heard from others who had worked with her before that she never knew her lines. It would make it harder for him, and he and the director had already had several arguments about how Leslie viewed his part. They attributed different motivations to the character, and so far the screenwriter was backing up Leslie, which didn't sit well with the director. He had a big ego, and wanted everyone to agree with him. It was going to be challenging for Leslie in Venice. And he was anxious for her support when she came over.

It was two in the morning by the time they got to bed, and he had to get up at seven, in order to leave by eight. They made love hurriedly when they woke up, and took a shower together. He ate a hasty breakfast, kissed her frantically before he left, and promised to call her when he arrived, as she wished him luck with the movie. The house seemed shockingly silent the moment he was gone, and even more so when she came home for a break at lunchtime. She hated knowing that he was going to be far away, but she knew that if she was going to exist in his life, she had to get used to it. He was away on location a lot. Either that, or if she stayed with him, she would have to go with him, which meant she could no longer have a job or even a life of her own. She was afraid of giving up her life for him and living in his shadow, but he had insisted for months that that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted a partnership with her, not a groupie, a handmaiden, or a slave. Unlike her sister, who thought her main purpose in life was to take care of all her minor needs, as though she were a lesser person, which in Jane's mind Coco was. Coco thought Leslie was right the day before when he said that Coco's arrival in their family had upset the applecart for her, and she hadn't forgiven her younger sister for it yet, and maybe never would.

The house was agonizingly quiet that night. Coco watched one of Leslie's old movies, a favorite of hers, hoping to feel less lonely, and instead it only made her miss him more. She sat in her sister's bed, staring at his face on the screen, as it hit her just who she was in love with. “Oh my God…,” she said out loud. She was madly in love with one of the most successful actors in the world. He may not have been Laurence Olivier, but in the eyes of his fans, he was even bigger. She could suddenly hear in her head all the things her sister had said, and wondered what she was thinking, and what he was doing with her. She was nothing and no one, she was just a dog-walker who lived in a shack in Bolinas. Maybe Jane was right. She was overwhelmed by a wave of terror, and cried herself to sleep that night. The only thing that consoled her was a call from Leslie in the middle of the night when he arrived in Venice. He sounded exhausted after two long flights, one of which had been delayed in Paris.

Coco tried to explain to him everything she had felt when she went to sleep that night, the raw terror of realizing who he was and who she wasn't.

“That's total garbage,” he said, after listening to her. “You're the woman I love, and don't you forget it.” But all she could think of after they hung up was the question that was dancing in her head and had been after watching his movie. For how long? And if Jane was right, what gorgeous, glamorous movie star would replace her? Coco shuddered at the thought.

Chapter 14

Jane and Liz returned the week after Leslie had left for Venice. Coco moved back to Bolinas the night before, and she came by to drop off the keys on her way to work on Monday morning. She had left everything as neat as possible, made sure the kitchen was scrubbed, and the sheets and towels in the master suite were changed, and had even left flowers for them. Liz had called to thank her when they got home on Sunday. And Coco was stunned when Jane opened the door on Monday when she dropped off the keys. Jane was wearing black leggings and a tight black sweater, and there was an enormous bulge in her middle. She was five months pregnant. The rest of her was as thin as it had always been, but she looked as though she had a basketball in her leggings. In comparison to the rest of her, her belly seemed huge. Coco laughed the moment she saw it.

“What's so funny?” Jane asked testily, as Coco smiled at her.

“Nothing. You just look really cute.” She pointed to her niece or nephew as Liz walked up behind Jane with a broad smile.

“Pretty impressive, don't you think?” Liz asked her proudly and then hugged Coco. The two sisters exchanged a cursory hug and kiss, and her belly bumped into Coco as she did.

“It looks great,” Coco confirmed as she handed the keys to her sister.

“Thanks for bailing us out for four and a half months,” Liz was quick to say. They were home a month earlier than planned. The filming had gone well.

“It worked out for me too,” Coco said, and then blushed. “I mean… well, anyway… I enjoyed it.”

“I'll bet you did,” Jane said crisply. “Where's Leslie?”

“In Venice. He'll be there till Thanksgiving, or maybe even Christmas.”

“That'll give you both time to come to your senses,” Jane said unkindly. “Mom sent me all the clippings. You started a hornets' nest when you went down to L.A. It'll only get worse if you two stay together. I hope you're ready for it,” she said bluntly.

“We're taking it one day at a time,” Coco said, echoing his words.

“Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow?” Jane asked her.

“I can't. I'm busy,” Coco said without hesitating for a second. She had no desire to get beaten up by her sister, or listen to her say how quickly Leslie would dump her after he fell in love with his costar in Venice. She didn't want to hear it. She was worried enough about that herself.

“Another time, then. We need you to stay here again next weekend, by the way,” she said offhandedly as the three of them stood at the front door. It didn't even occur to her to ask Coco if it was convenient. She just assumed she'd do it. She always had before.

“I can't,” Coco said, savoring the unfamiliar words. It was hard for her to get them out, but she did. Jane would always be the domineering, slightly scary older sister to her. There were too many years between them for Coco to feel like an adult, with needs of her own, when dealing with her.

“You have to. We're going to L.A. to set up post-production. We have to see a couple of houses to rent, and I want to meet Mom's boy toy. I take it you haven't met him yet.” Jane gave her an inquiring look, prepared to pounce on her if she had and failed to tell her.

“No, I haven't,” Coco confirmed. “Mom was working on a book when I went down to see Leslie, so I didn't see her.” They both knew that their mother didn't take calls or see visitors when she was writing. They wondered if those rules applied to Gabriel too. Maybe they did. In any case, they applied to them. And Jane said their mother had just finished her book, so she had agreed to see them.

“Anyway, I need you to stay with Jack for the weekend. You can take him to Bolinas if you really have to. Once we rent a house, we can take him with us.” Coco knew they would be in L.A. for post-production for several months. “But we're flying this weekend, so we have to leave him here.”

“I won't be here,” Coco said simply, looking her sister in the eye. It was the truth.

“Why not?” Jane looked stunned. She couldn't remember when Coco had ever said no to her. This was a first. It had taken Leslie to free her. Liz didn't say a word but wanted to cheer, and smiled at Coco over Jane's shoulder, to give her courage.

“I'm leaving for Venice on Friday. I'll be there for a couple of weeks. I'm sure Erin can walk him for you. She's covering my clients for me. I was going to ask you if I could leave Sallie here, but I guess I can't.”

Liz was quick to answer for her. “Yes, you can.” She wanted to validate the bold move she had made. “Erin can walk them both, and Jack won't be so lonely if Sallie is here with him.” The two dogs had just lived together for four and a half months and got along well. Jane didn't say a word, she just stared at Coco in disapproval and disbelief. Errand girls and slaves didn't just get up and leave, and make their own plans. This was going to require some serious rethinking for Jane.

“Have you thought about what it's going to be like dealing with the paparazzi in Venice?” Jane asked coolly. It was as though she wanted to punish Coco for her independence.

“Yes, I have,” Coco said quietly. “We'll do the best we can. We're going to try and go to Florence for a few days, during a break.”

“That sounds fabulous,” Liz said enthusiastically, and Jane just looked at her, wondering who and what her sister had become. The change in Jane was more obvious, and physical. The one in Coco was far less visible, and ran deeper. So far motherhood didn't seem to have softened Jane's heart. She was as tough as ever.

“We got the results of the amnio,” Jane suddenly volunteered. “The baby's fine.” She looked faintly disappointed for just an instant. “It's a boy.” They had both wanted a girl, but Liz said she didn't care as long as it was healthy. “That's going to be a lot harder to deal with. Boys are not exactly my thing.” She smiled as she said it, and Coco laughed.

“I think you'll do just fine.” And Coco privately thought that she was much too tough to be the mother of a girl. In fact, she couldn't see her as a mother at all. This had been an interesting choice for her, and a big surprise to them all. Their mother hadn't recovered from it yet. The prospect of being a grandmother didn't thrill her. It just made her feel old, and she had never been enamored with babies, even when she was young and they were hers. She was even less so now, particularly with a man twenty-four years younger in her life. “What are you going to name him?” Jane and Liz had talked about it a lot, and were leaning toward naming him after Jane's father. Liz's father had been named Oscar, which neither of them liked.

“We'll probably name him after Dad. We want to see him first and see what he looks like.”

“I can't wait to see him myself,” Coco said sincerely. It was still hard for her to believe that they were going to have a baby. It was the most unlikely turn of events she could imagine. “You look great, by the way. The only thing different is the basketball under your shirt.”

“The doctor says he's pretty big,” Jane said, looking anxious for a minute. She wasn't looking forward to the birth. The thought of it terrified her, but Liz would be there coaching her. More than once she had wished that they had impregnated her instead. “His father was six foot five, so he should be pretty tall.” Jane was quite tall herself, and Coco was the same size, although in her mind's eye, Jane was always much taller, since she had been when she was a child. That was the memory that had stuck with her.

Coco left them to go to work then, and she dropped Sallie off at their place on Thursday afternoon. They were leaving for L.A. the next day, and Coco was flying to Venice via Paris. She was already packed and wildly excited about it. She and Leslie were talking two and three times a day, and he was thrilled that she was coming.

When she dropped Sallie off, Jane was out, and Liz invited her in for a cup of tea. Coco had just finished work, and she was leaving at the crack of dawn the next morning.

“How are things going with Leslie?” Liz asked her as they sipped their tea.

“Unbelievably well,” Coco said, beaming at her. “I still can't believe it happened, or figure out why he wants me.”

“He's lucky to have you,” Liz said with a look of conviction. She had always hated the way Jane gave her such a hard time. The dynamic between the two sisters pained her, and she had always hoped that Coco would break the ties that bound her one day. But Coco hadn't gotten there yet. The age difference between them, and their history, had always done her a disservice.

“We seem to have gotten off pretty lucky with the press so far,” Coco said cautiously. “It scares me, but hopefully they won't get too crazy over us. I know Jane thinks they'll eat me alive, but it's not like I just got out of jail or am a drug addict or something.”

“Dropping out of law school, living in Bolinas, and running a dog-walking business are not felonies, the last time I checked,” Liz said wisely, “contrary to the impression your sister may have given you. You're a respectable person, work for a living, and you're a terrific woman. They can't do much with that,” Liz reassured her, and Coco sighed.

“Jane thinks he's going to dump me for someone else in a hot minute. And I worry about that too,” she confessed. “There's a lot of temptation in that business, and he's human like everyone else.”

“He seems to be a human who's very much in love with you,” Liz reminded her. She had heard from Jane about the dressing-down Leslie had given her, which Liz thought was a good sign of his love for Coco. “There are plenty of solid relationships and good marriages in this business. You just don't hear about them, because the tabloids would rather talk about the bad ones. Have a little faith in yourself, and in Leslie. He's a good guy.” Coco basked in the warmth of what she was saying and visibly relaxed.

“I can't wait to see him in Venice,” Coco said with a happy smile.

“You deserve a break. I can't remember the last time you took a vacation.” Not since she had gone on vacation with Ian three years before, as far as Liz could recall. It was about time she came back to life again, and it was obvious that she had. “I can't wait to hear about it when you get back.”

They talked about the baby then, and how excited Liz was about it. She said Jane was too, and was getting used to the idea that it was a boy. She said they were turning the guest room into a nursery, and planned to interview baby nurses in L.A. Coco was excited about it too. She had never expected to have a niece or nephew, and Chloe had reminded her that summer of how great kids could be.

She was leaving just as Jane returned, and for once Jane looked happy and relaxed in an outfit that showed off her protuding belly. Coco couldn't help smiling at it and told Jane she had just dropped Sallie off to stay with Jack.

“Have fun in Venice,” Jane said, sounding gentler for a change. She was in good spirits and said she had just seen the doctor again. Everything was fine, and the baby's heartbeat was strong. She had already started an album with pictures from their sonograms, which sounded funny to Coco. The sentimental gesture was so unlike her, she wondered if she'd be a good mother after all. Neither of them had a strong role model on that score, since their own mother had been anything but maternal. She was competent and responsible, but much more interested in her career and her relationship with her husband than she had ever been in her children. She had forged a relationship with Jane ultimately, as she grew up, but had never managed it with Coco. They had too little in common. Coco had always been the odd man out. She had come along too late, and was too different from all of them to ever feel welcome in their midst. “Call us when you get back!” Jane said as she left, and Coco drove back to Bolinas, thinking about Leslie and Venice and everything they would do there together. She couldn't wait to see him on the set, and to take a few days traveling around Italy with him. He had already promised her a gondola ride under the Bridge of Sighs, which, he had been told and reported to her, would ensure that they would be together forever. It sounded good to her.

Her mother called her that night and invited her down for the weekend, since Jane and Liz were coming, and Coco explained that she was going to Venice to see Leslie.

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” her mother asked her, sounding suspicious. “You don't want to run after him, dear. It might make him feel like you're stalking him.”

“I'm not stalking him, Mom,” Coco said, rolling her eyes as she listened. “He wants me to come. He said so.”

“All right. If you're sure. But he must be very busy if he's making a movie. Men don't like it when women hang all over them. It makes them feel smothered.” Coco wanted to ask her if Gabriel felt “smothered” by her, but she didn't. She didn't want to get upset fighting with her mother. Besides her mother and Jane always won.

“Thank you for the advice,” Coco said tersely, wondering what she had ever done to deserve them. Her sister thought she was just a notch on his belt, and not a very attractive one, soon to be replaced by someone more glamorous and better-looking. And her mother thought she was stalking a movie star, who didn't really want to see her. Why was it that neither of them could imagine that she was worthy of him, and he truly loved her? “How's Gabriel?” she asked, to change the subject.

“Wonderful!” she said, sounding radiant over the phone. Her romance interested her a great deal more than Coco's, and she had no trouble imagining that he adored her. It was much harder for her to imagine that Leslie was equally in love with Coco. “We're having dinner with Jane and Liz this weekend.” She was a little apprehensive about it, knowing how tough her older daughter could be, and how critical, but she was excited to have Gabriel spend time with them, and share their happiness with them. Coco thought she was being naive, and Jane would use every opportunity to find fault with him and turn it against their mother later.

“Have fun,” she said to her mother as they hung up. And she was annoyed with herself later when she realized that her mother had scored a hit again. She was suddenly worrying that maybe she was forcing herself on Leslie and he didn't want her there as desperately as he said.

“I will not listen to them,” she said to herself, as she zipped her suitcase closed at midnight. “Mom and Jane are full of shit. They hate me, they have always hated me, and I don't care what they say. He loves me, and I love him, and that's all I need to know. He wants to see me, and we are going to have a wonderful time in Venice.” She said the whole speech out loud, and was proud of herself. And as Coco walked out on the deck and looked up at the stars, she prayed that everything would be all right when she got there. After that, she walked back inside and went to bed, and reminded herself that twenty-four hours later she would be in Venice, with the love of her life. It didn't get better than that, movie star or not. She wasn't going to question it, or dwell on what her mother had said. She was going to fly to Italy and have the time of her life.

Chapter 15

Coco made the same trip that Leslie had made almost two weeks earlier. The only difference was that he had made it in first class, and she flew in coach. Leslie had offered to buy her a first-class ticket too. But Coco liked to pay her own bills, and had refused. It was a long, eleven-hour cramped flight from San Francisco to Paris. She had slept fitfully on the flight, and she arrived feeling rumpled and dirty. She was too excited to fall into a deep sleep, and had watched four movies. She had a three-hour layover in Paris, where she managed to take a shower in the public bathroom, and have something to eat at an airport café. And she was starting to get seriously sleepy when she boarded the plane to Venice. She dozed off right after takeoff, fell into a heavy sleep, and the flight attendant had to wake her when they landed. It was the middle of the night for her, and she felt as though she had been traveling for days.

She had gone through customs in Paris, so all she had to do in Venice was walk off the plane, and get her passport stamped by immigration on the way out. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and combed her hair before getting off. She had worn an old sweatshirt on the flight to Paris, but had changed into a new black sweater and black leather flats before disembarking in Venice. And as she left the plane, carrying a large tote bag, she saw Leslie waiting for her on the other side of immigration. It was lunchtime in Venice and the late October sun was very bright. But brightest of all was the look of joy in his eyes. He was thrilled to see her and swept her into his arms immediately, took the heavy bag from her, and walked her out of the terminal to a waiting limousine. He handed the driver her baggage stubs, and he went to claim her luggage while Leslie kissed her passionately in the car and told her how glad he was to see her. They both acted as though they hadn't seen each other in months, although it had been two days shy of two weeks.

“I was so afraid something would happen and you wouldn't come,” he admitted to her. “I can't believe you're here!” He looked ecstatic.

“Me neither. How's the movie going?”

“We have two days off. And I think they're giving us next weekend off too.” It was perfect. “I booked us into a hotel in Florence next week,” he said, beaming. He could hardly keep his hands off her as the driver appeared with her bags, put them in the trunk, and got back in the car. They were riding in a stretch Mercedes, which the producer had brought in from Germany, specially for him. He said the film was going well, although he and Madison had had some problems, but he didn't go into detail. All he wanted was to concentrate on Coco now that she was here.

It was a relatively short drive from the airport to the enormous parking lot, where they had to leave the limousine, and from there he had rented an enormous motoscafo, a speedboat, to take them to the Gritti Palace, where he was staying. The rest of the crew and some of the stars were staying at other smaller hotels, but he and Madison had been given suites at the Gritti, which was considered the most luxurious hotel in Venice. Madison had wanted to stay at the Cipriani, but the producer had insisted that it was farther and too complicated for transportation every day. And the director had taken refuge at the Bauer Grunwald, which he insisted he preferred. Leslie was delighted where he was.

The motoscafo took them rapidly down the Grand Canal, as Coco looked around her with awe. As they left the parking area, the city began to reveal itself before them. Churches, domes, basilicas, ancient palazzi, and eventually St. Mark's Cathedral and the square were dazzling in the October sun. It was easily the most beautiful place she had ever seen. And Leslie smiled at the look of wonder on her face.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” he said, and then pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He couldn't think of a better place to share with her than this. He had already rented a gondola for that night to take them under the Ponte dei Sospiri, the Bridge of Sighs, on their way to dinner, if she was still awake by then. There were a thousand things he wanted to do with her and show her. This was only the beginning. And he was grateful to have time off to be with her that weekend. They had been working hard.

When they arrived at the Gritti Palace, they were instantly whisked inside, and Leslie took her to their rooms. She had expected him to have a suite, but instead they had given him several suites, joined together, to form a palatial apartment just for him. It was in his contract, but more elegant and luxurious than anything Coco had ever seen. And the view from his windows was spectacular, looking across the canal at other palaces, many of them private and still owned by noble Venetians. It was a remarkable and unique city.

Several of the hotel's formidable staff were bowing and scraping to Leslie, as two maids disappeared to unpack her bags, and a liveried waiter arrived carrying an enormous silver tray with food for her, and a perfectly chilled bottle of Louis Roederer Cristal champagne.

“One gets a little spoiled on location,” Leslie whispered to her with a sheepish grin.

“I'll say,” she said, trying to remind herself that she was here for only a week or two. And when she left, the royal coach she was traveling in with him would turn into a pumpkin again. She had to remind herself of it constantly. Being with Leslie was a totally Cinderella experience, and without a doubt, he was the handsome prince. It was hard to believe that the glass slipper would really fit her in the end. That only happened in fairy tales, but clearly this was one.

They settled onto an enormous yellow satin couch as the waiter poured her tea for her, and served her a plate of exquisite little sandwiches, and then discreetly left the room.

“I'm not sure if I'm Cinderella or Orphan Annie,” she said, looking at Leslie in disbelief. “Last time I looked, I was in Bolinas. How did I ever wind up here?” She hadn't expected anything like this. All she had thought about was being with him again, it never occurred to her what his life would look like on location, or the lengths to which producers went to, to make things comfortable for him. This was way beyond comfortable. It was opulent in the extreme.

“It's not a bad life, is it?” He smiled mischievously. “But it was miserable until you got here. It was no fun without you,” he said, and showed her through the rooms. There was a gigantic, palatial bedroom, all done in exquisite antiques, with a frescoed ceiling, two sitting rooms, and a private dining room big enough to entertain two dozen friends. He had a small office, a library, and there were so many vast marble bathrooms in the suite that she lost count when he showed them to her. There were fresh flowers in every room, and he had picked out a pink marble bathroom for her, with a spectacular view of Venice.

“I think I'm dreaming,” she said as she followed him, and then without further ceremony, he pulled her onto their enormous canopied bed. It was fit for a king, but there she found the Leslie she knew and loved again. Despite the elegance of their surroundings, he was as loving and playful as he had been in Jane's house and Bolinas with her. One of the beauties about Leslie was that he enjoyed his life and everything that went with it, but he wasn't full of himself. And all he wanted now was to be with her.

They made love and slept through the afternoon, and then they took a bath in the enormous pink marble bathroom. He told her to put on jeans. He wanted to take her for a walk, and show her some of the wonders of Venice. They scampered quickly through the hotel lobby, and his private motoscafo deposited them in St. Mark's Square. From there, they wandered through some of the narrow back streets, walked into churches, bought gelato from a street vendor, and strolled over tiny bridges that covered the smaller canals. She totally lost her sense of direction as she walked with him, but neither of them cared. He was learning a little bit of the city, but being lost in Venice was never ominous. Wherever you went it was beautiful, and somehow you wound up back in the right place in the end. They saw other lovers like them walking everywhere, and most of them were Venetians at that time of the year. The weather was cool and sunny, and as the sun disappeared finally, they went back to the motoscafo, which deposited them back at the hotel.

Back in his palatial rooms again, she stood looking out at the city, and then turned to Leslie with all the love she felt for him in her eyes. “Thank you for inviting me here,” she said softly. It was almost like a honeymoon, being there with him, and the most romantic place she'd ever been.

“I didn't invite you,” he reminded her, with a look that mirrored hers. “I begged you to come. I wanted to share this with you, Coco. It was just a job until you came.” She couldn't help smiling at the term. It was an awfully nice place to work.

They talked about the movie then, and how it was going. He poured her a glass of champagne, and eventually they went to dress for dinner. He was concerned that she might be too tired to go out, but she had slept just enough that afternoon to revive her. She didn't want to miss a minute of the time with him, especially while he didn't have to work.

This time, when they went downstairs, there was no sign of his motoscafo, and a huge gondola was waiting for them. The gondolier was wearing a striped shirt, a short navy blue jacket in the evening chill, and the traditional flat hat worn by all the gondoliers. The boat itself was a wonder of shining black trimmed in gold, and looked just as all the gondolas had for hundreds of years. As promised, they slid under the Bridge of Sighs on the way to dinner, as the gondolier sang to them. It was right out of a dream.

“Hold your breath and close your eyes,” Leslie whispered to her, and with eyes wide at first, she did, as he kissed her gently on the mouth, holding his breath too, and as they came out from under the bridge, he told her she could breathe again. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Okay, now the deal is sealed,” he said, looking delighted. “According to legend, we will be together forever. Hope you don't have any objection.” She laughed as he settled into the seat next to her again. What was there to object to? The most romantic, loving man on the planet? Or the most beautiful city she'd ever seen? It would have been hard to imagine anything to object to in any of it, and she didn't.

“I want to come here on our honeymoon if we ever have one,” she whispered, as they slipped under another bridge and she was swept up in the mood. It would have been impossible not to be, especially with him. “If we ever get married, I mean.”

“Now you're talking,” he said, looking elated, as they stopped at some small stone steps, with a cheerfully lit restaurant at the top of them. The gondolier handed them out, and Leslie walked into the restaurant with his arm around her. “The concierge at the hotel said this would be quiet and discreet. A lot of the locals come here. It's not fancy, but he said it's very good.”

The restaurant was small and only half full. The headwaiter led them to a small cozy table at the back of the restaurant. No one paid any attention to them, and they dined like everyone else, without intrusion or interruption. Leslie said the press had been fairly good here so far, and hadn't bothered them. Madison had caused something of a stir when her press agent called the fan magazines with some absurd stories, but they had only been bothered on the set, and nothing had come of it since, much to everyone's relief. It hadn't gotten the European press going. Leslie didn't tell her what the stories were, only that they were insignificant and annoying and typical of her. He said she liked to be the queen bee on the set of every movie she made, which didn't bother him, as long as she learned her lines, showed up on time, and didn't slow things down in any way. He was enjoying Venice, but he was hoping to come home as soon as possible to her. And he said the movie was on schedule so far. They were going to be shooting in St. Mark's Square that week, and inside the basilica, which had taken endless permits, but their Italian production assistant had been a genius at getting them everything they needed.

They chatted all through dinner, and now and then Coco felt a wave of drowsiness come over her. Her time zones were completely out of whack, but she enjoyed the evening thoroughly, and a walk in St. Mark's Square afterward. And then they went back to the hotel in their gondola. She was yawning when they returned to their rooms. She could hardly keep her eyes open by then. It was midnight in Italy, and she'd been up for many hours. Somewhere along the way, she had lost a whole night's sleep, but it was for a good cause, to say the least.

Coco was sound asleep before Leslie could even make love to her, and he lay there watching her as she slept, with a smile on his face, and then cuddled up next to her. Having her there was like a dream come true for him. And together, they slept until almost noon the next day. They awoke to the sun streaming into their rooms, and got up to start their day after they made love.

He took her to Harry's Bar for lunch, which was an old favorite of his. She had Risotto Milanese as only they could make it, with lots of saffron, and he had lobster salad as they discussed what to do that afternoon. He had hired a gondola for her again, as it was more romantic than the faster, more practical motoscafo that took him to work every day. They were in no hurry, and spent the afternoon visiting the Doge's Palace, and admired the Campanile, the bell tower of the basilica. They strolled through the Royal Gardens, and then wandered in and out of several beautiful old churches before going back to the hotel. It had been another perfect day. They decided to order room service, since he had a six a.m. call on the set to get his hair and makeup done. She had promised to come with him, at least for the first day. After that she was going to explore Venice a little on her own. For a tiny city, there was so much to see, and she didn't want to bother him while he was working on the film.

Leslie traveled very simply, and never took an entourage with him. He said he didn't need an assistant as long as the concierge was good, and the Gritti Palace was known for their remarkable staff. He used the hair and makeup people on the set and never brought his own. For a major star, he was surprisingly undemanding and without pretension. He said he preferred less fuss and attention. Unlike Madison, who had brought her own hairdresser, two makeup artists, her sister, two assistants, and her best friend with her. She was known for giving producers long lists of her personal needs and demands before signing a contract for a film. She traveled with a personal bodyguard and a trainer too, and she had demanded that all of them be put up in the same hotel with her. It didn't win her friends on any set where she worked, but she was the biggest female box-office draw in the world at the moment, so no one argued with her. They just gave her what she wanted to keep her from making a scene, which she never hesitated to do.

“It's a little wearing to be around all that,” Leslie admitted to Coco, as they left for the set the next day. Coco was wearing a warm sheepskin jacket in the cool morning air before the sun came up, and a favorite old pair of cowboy boots. She looked fresh and young and beautiful with no makeup on, her big green eyes, and her mane of copper hair. She was everything he admired in a woman, honest, simple, natural, undemanding, without putting on airs. Her goodness and integrity shone from within, which enhanced everything about her. They made a handsome pair as they strode onto the set, and walked into the trailer that had been set up for him, under the arches around St. Mark's Square. She couldn't imagine how they'd gotten it there, but it gave him a place to be, and relax or study between scenes.

The hairdresser and principal makeup artist were waiting for him. They had been hired locally, but spoke good English, as Leslie chatted easily with them and sipped a cup of steaming coffee, and Coco sat quietly in a corner, watching the scene.

Despite the early call, they didn't start shooting until nine o'clock. Breakfast had been brought in for all of them, and finally, there was a knock on his dressing-room door to say that they were ready for him. They had been setting up the lighting till then with a stand-in who took his place for him, a young Italian of similar size and coloring. Leslie was wearing a well-cut black suit and turtleneck for the scene, with black suede shoes. He looked sexy and beautifully put together as he left the trailer in full stage makeup, which hardly showed. He never let them overdo it, and his hair had been meticulously done and sprayed.

Coco watched in fascination as the other actors in the scene appeared. The director took his place next to the cameraman and instructed him. He knew exactly what camera angles he wanted, and spoke to the actors quietly. Coco had been on sets before with her sister, but there was a seriousness and intensity about this, which was new to her. The actors in this film were the biggest stars in the business. No one took it lightly, and they didn't want to miss a shot. There was a fortune to be made if it was a success, and Oscars to be won for extraordinary performances. That was obviously on everyone's mind. There was no fooling around here.

She stood quietly where she'd been told to stand, so as not to disturb anyone, and she watched Leslie carefully as he rolled through the first take of the scene. Madison wasn't in it and it was another hour before she appeared, in a sexy red cocktail dress she was only half-wearing, with a coat over it, with her famous cleavage and her long spectacular legs, and sexy high heels. She went right into the scene with him and had to run across the square. Someone was trying to kidnap her, and Leslie was running after her, trying to rescue her, although she was supposed to have no idea who he was. It was a complicated, intricate plot, and Coco knew the story from reading the script, and helping him learn his lines. She remembered the scene, but it was different here, with actors giving electrifying performances and a tension you could feel. Carabinieri were helping to keep the portion of the square clear that they were using, and someone silently gave Coco a folding chair so she could sit down. She nodded her thanks, and a few minutes later a woman with blond hair sat down in a chair next to her. Coco had no idea who she was, other than that she was someone in Madison's entourage.

“She's good, isn't she?” the woman said to Coco, during a break. “I would kill myself if I tried to run in those heels.” Coco laughed in response.

The woman didn't ask who she was or why she was there. There were so many people on the set that no one bothered to ask. Like the other woman, and everyone else on the set, Coco had a pass on a cord around her neck, which meant she was part of the crew or cast, or someone's entourage. “They look good together, don't they?” the woman said, watching them more closely, as Coco studied them too. She hadn't really thought about it, but they did. Leslie had his arms around Madison in that scene. She was out of breath from running in the scene before, and melted slowly against him when he finally caught her. It made Coco faintly uncomfortable to realize they did look good together, which was why they had been cast for their parts. “Did you see the piece about them in the magazines last week?” the woman asked casually, glancing at Coco again. “They looked hot. Stories like that get interest going in the film. And who knows what will happen by the time they leave here?” The woman grinned. Coco gave her a weak smile, and looked slightly confused as the woman obligingly took a fan magazine out of her enormous tote bag and handed it to Coco to read.

Coco gulped as she saw the picture on the cover. It was a picture of Leslie and Madison kissing, with a headline that ran above it and said, “Too hot to handle. New romance for Leslie and Madison begins in Italy.” Coco didn't want to read it, but was mesmerized by it, and flipped the magazine open to the right page. There were several more photographs of them, two of them kissing, and one where they were both looking startled, as though they'd been interrupted doing something they didn't want to be seen doing. Her stomach turned over as she read it. The article said that he'd broken up with his last girlfriend in May, who'd accused him of being gay. And it went on to say that he looked anything but while diving into a hot romance with Madison Allbright on the set of their new movie, being filmed on location in Italy. The article said nothing about Coco, and her appearance with him in L.A. She handed back the magazine to the woman a few minutes later and thanked her. Coco was feeling sick.

This was what her sister had meant. This was what it was like being in love with a major star, who slept with his costar in every film. They had been there for two weeks. It hadn't taken him long. And there was no denying what she'd just seen in the pictures in the fan magazine. He was clearly kissing her. She felt wooden as she sat there, watching him with Madison now, wondering how he could have had the bad taste and cruelty to invite her to Venice, when he was having an affair with his costar. Admittedly, he had invited her before he left the States, but he could have stopped her from coming if he had any heart at all. And he had made love to her for the past two days. What kind of man would do a thing like that? Apparently, a movie star. It killed Coco to admit it, but Jane was right.

She sat feeling like a robot, watching him do his scenes for the next three hours. All she wanted was to go back to the hotel and pack her bags. To hell with Leslie Baxter. There were tears in her eyes as she watched him. All she wanted now was to go home to Bolinas and cry.

Leslie came to find her when they were finished working, and walked her back to his trailer, where the caterers would serve them lunch. She noticed that he said something to Madison that made her laugh as they left the set, and he put an arm around her and gave her a hug. Coco wanted to throw up as she watched them, but she said nothing as she walked back to the trailer with him, nor once they got inside.