The Ranch

Chapter 2

When Tanya Thomas woke up in her Bel Air bedroom the next day, Tony was already in the shower. They shared a single bedroom, and two huge, separate dressing rooms, each with their own separate bathroom. The bedroom was large and airy, decorated in French antiques, with enormous pink silk curtains, and miles of pink floral fabrics. Her dressing room and bath were pink marble, and the fabrics were pale pink silk there too. And Tony's bathroom was done entirely in black marble and granite. Black towels, black silk drapes, it was the consummate male bathroom.

She had bought the house years before, and had it all redone to suit Tony when they got married. Although he was extremely successful too, she knew he loved showing off her success. In spite of all the headaches associated with it, he loved letting people know that he was married to Tanya Thomas. The Hollywood scene had always appealed to him, and after years on the fringe, being catapulted into the very heart of it had always seemed like an extraordinary bonus. He loved going to Hollywood parties, and chatting with the stars, and he liked going to the Academy Awards and the Golden Globes, and especially Barbara Davis's gala events, far more than Tanya did. After eighteen hours of work, she was happier staying home at night, sinking into a warm tub, and listening to someone else's music.

She put a pink satin robe over her lace nightgown while he was still getting dressed, and she went down-stairs to make him something for breakfast. There were other people in the house who could have done as much for him, but Tanya liked doing it, and she knew it meant a lot to Tony. She cooked for his kids whenever she could too, and she was a good cook. She cooked a good steak, and had introduced them all to grits, and took a lot of teasing for it, but they loved them. She liked making pasta for him too. There were a lot of things she liked doing for Tony. She liked making love to him, and being alone with him, and going on trips with him, and discovering new places, but there was never enough time, there were always rehearsals, and recording sessions, movies, and concerts, benefits, and countless hours spent poring over documents and contracts with her attorneys. Tanya was more than a singer or an actress now, she was an empire, an industry unto itself, and she had learned a lot about the business, the hard way.

She poured orange juice while she waited for him, and broke eggs into a frying pan as the butter began to sizzle. And as she dropped the toast into the toaster, and started the coffee for him, she opened the morning paper. Her heart sank as she read the second lead item. It was about a former employee suing her, allegedly for sexual harassment. It was the first she had heard of it, and as she read the article, she recognized the name of a bodyguard they'd had for two weeks the year before, and had fired for stealing. He had given a lengthy interview, claiming that she had tried to seduce him, and when he refused her, she fired him without reason or explanation. Tanya knew as she read the piece, with a sickening feeling, that like all the other lawsuits in which she'd been involved, in the end they'd wind up paying him off just to settle it, and unload him. There never seemed to be any way to defend herself anymore, to prove to anyone that she was innocent, that it was all lies, and that it was a form of blackmail. She knew that her husband knew that too, and he was always the first one to tell her to settle, no matter how outrageous the claim, or the attack. It was just simpler that way. But she also knew that Tony would be livid when he saw the paper. She folded it carefully and put it away, and a moment later, he walked into the kitchen wearing his golf clothes.

“Aren't you going to work today?” she asked conversationally, trying to look relaxed as she sliced an avocado, and put the finishing touches on his breakfast.

“Where have you been for the last three years?” He looked startled by her question. “I always play golf on Fridays.” He was a good-looking man with dark hair, and a powerful build, in his late forties. He played a lot of tennis and golf, and worked out in a gym he had built at the opposite end of the house, with his personal trainer, not the one who had recently appeared in the tabloids. “Where's the paper?” he asked as he sat down and looked around. He read the Los Angeles Times and the Wall Street Journal every morning. He was an outstanding businessman, and had made a fortune in real estate development in the years when it really counted. But his money was of no interest to Tanya. It was his kindness which had originally appealed to her, his decency, his kids, and his family values. As far as she was concerned, he was just a regular guy going to work every day, and playing ball with his sons on the weekend. And she particularly liked the fact that he wasn't in “the business.” What she hadn't figured on originally was that he liked all of the Hollywood trappings a lot more than she did. He liked all of it, but he didn't like paying his dues for the lifestyle. He liked the glitter but not the price you had to pay to be there. And Tanya knew you couldn't have one without the other. In fact, Tony complained constantly about the aggravations they had to endure, and the infuriating stories in the tabloids.

“You can't have it both ways,” she had explained to him early on. “You can't have the glory without the pain,” she'd said softly, and offered to retire the first time after they were married that the tabloids made ugly accusations about her, and talked about all her old boyfriends. But he insisted that he didn't want her to retire. He thought she would be bored. She had suggested they give it all up and have a baby. But he liked what she did, and so did she, so she kept doing it, and they kept rallying from the attacks, and the death threats, and the lawsuits. She still refused to have a bodyguard full-time, and only hired one when she went to an event wearing a lot of borrowed jewelry.

“So where's the paper?” he asked again, digging into his eggs, and glancing up at her, and he saw immediately in Tanya's eyes that something had happened. “What's up?”

“Nothing,” she said vaguely, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Come on, Tanya,” he said, looking annoyed. “It's written all over your face. You won't win the Oscar for this one.” She smiled ruefully at him and shrugged. He'd find out anyway. She just hadn't wanted it to be over breakfast. Without saying another word, she handed the paper to him, and watched as she saw him read the story. She could see the muscles work in his jaw and neck, but he didn't say a word until he finished it, and put down the paper. And then he looked up at her with a grim expression. “That's going to cost you. I hear sexual harassment suits are really paying big now.” He said it unemotionally, but it was easy to see that he was very angry. “What did you say to him?” His eyes bore into hers as he asked her, and Tanya looked at her husband in amazement.

“What did I say to him? Are you crazy? Do you think I said anything to him? I told him where the studio was and what time I had to be at rehearsal. That's what I said to him. How can you even ask me?” There were tears in her eyes as she looked at him, and Tony seemed uncomfortable as he took a sip of coffee.

“I just wondered if you said anything he could build this on, that's all. I mean, hell, the guy certainly tells quite a story.”

“So does everyone,” she said sadly, her eyes never leaving Tony's. “It's no different than anything else. It's just plain greed and envy. He saw money, and he wants it. He figures he can embarrass me into paying him to shut up.” She'd been through it before, not just with discrimination suits, but with unlawful terminations, real estate claims, accident claims from previous employees. Everyone hoped that by suing her they would get a piece of the action. It was old news in Hollywood, and other places these days, but it still wasn't pretty when it happened. And although he understood the reasons for it, Tony had never gotten used to it, and he didn't like it. He said it was hard on his kids and his family, it made him an object of ridicule and even gave his ex-wife something to complain about. He just didn't need it. Tanya knew only too well how Tony reacted to these stories. First he pretended they didn't bother him, then he got increasingly more disagreeable as the plot unfolded, and eventually he put as much pressure on her as the lawyers did to just get out of it, and settle. But through it all he acted like the injured party. And eventually, after he had made her pay for it for a while, he decided to forgive her. It was becoming an old familiar story, and she didn't enjoy it.

“Are you going to pay him off?” Tony asked, looking anxious.

“I haven't even talked to my lawyer yet,” she said, looking annoyed. “I just read it in the paper this morning, like you did.”

“If you'd handled it right a year ago, when you fired him, this would never have happened,” he said, putting a jacket on and looking at her from the doorway.

“That's not true, and you know it. We've been through this before. It just goes with the territory, no matter what you do.” She had always been so careful, and so circumspect, but no one ever gave her credit for it. She had never been promiscuous, behaved badly, used drugs, treated her employees badly, or got drunk in public. But no matter what you did, or didn't do, in her kind of life, people made outrageous claims, and in most cases, the public believed them. And sometimes so did Tony.

“I'm not sure I know what you do anymore,” he said, looking angry. He hated the embarrassment he said she caused him. And then he turned on his heel and left. And a minute later she heard his car speeding down the driveway.

She dialed her attorney, Bennett Pearson, almost as soon as Tony had left, and her attorney apologized. They had received the papers late the day before, and hadn't had time to call her and warn her.

“It sure made a nice surprise this way, over breakfast,” she said, sounding very Texas. “Next time, it might be nice to have a little warning. You know, Tony is not exactly crazy about these things.” Last week the trainer in the Enquirer, now the bodyguard. On top of being a target for lawsuits and blackmail of varying degrees, she was also a sex symbol, and the papers loved honing in on anything they could about her. There were tears in her eyes when she hung up from the lawyers. The bodyguard was insisting that she had propositioned him, embarrassed him, and that he had suffered emotional distress over it. And he had some quack psychiatrist who was willing to testify for him. According to her attorneys, the claim wasn't particularly unusual, but Tanya remembered that the guy was a real sleaze and would probably really stick it to her. In earlier days, she would probably have sat and cried over it. But after over twenty years, it was all too familiar, and she knew why it happened. She was successful and powerful, and had managed to stay on top of her career with hard work and an incredible amount of determination, and people were willing to line up ten deep to try and take it from her. In Hollywood, like anywhere else, there were armies of frustrated people who were only too happy to take what they could from anyone else. It was an unusual work ethic certainly, but it was by no means unheard of.

She had asked her attorney what he wanted her to do about the case, and he told her to just forget it. He would handle everything, and he was sure that after the initial public blast, the gentleman in question was going to be anxious to settle. He was sure that that had been his intent anyway, and warned her that settlements in harassment suits these days were easily up in the millions.

“Great. What would you like me to do? Why don't I just give him the house in Malibu? Ask him how he feels about the sun, or maybe he'd rather have the house in Bel Air, but it's a little smaller.” It was impossible not to be cynical, harder still not to be angry, or to feel abused, or betrayed, by people who were willing to hurt you or use you, although they never even knew you. In some ways, the attacks on her were so obvious and so impersonal that they had the same quality as a drive-by shooting.

It was nine o'clock by then, and her secretary had arrived, a high-strung girl named Jean who had worked for the president of a record company previously, and had worked for Tanya for more than a year. She was efficient and trustworthy, but Tanya didn't like the fact that the girl always seemed to increase the feeling of urgency around her, rather than diminish it for her. And she did just exactly that that morning. Within the first hour she was there, there were three calls from New York, two from entertainment magazines, wanting interviews, and one from the show she was going to be on. The lawyer called her back two more times, and her agent called to press her into a decision about her next concert tour. She hadn't committed herself yet, and they had to know immediately because it would be impossible to include Japan otherwise, and the agent she used in Britain called wanting to know about a contract. They got word of another tabloid story coming out, and they called about a technical problem as well in her current record. She was doing a benefit the next night, had to get to the recording studio by noon, and had rehearsals that night for the benefit. And her film agent called, wanting to talk to her about another movie.

“God, what is today? A full moon, or is everyone in this town just going crazy?” Tanya brushed the long blond hair out of her eyes with one hand, while Jean handed her a cup of coffee, and reminded her that she had to give an answer about the tour before four-thirty. “I don't have to do anything, goddammit, and if they don't include Japan, then too bad. I'm not going to be pressured into making a decision before I'm ready.” She was scowling when she said it, which was uncharacteristic of her. Tanya had always had an easygoing disposition, but there was enough pressure on her to make a volcano erupt, and she was only human, and could only take so much.

“What about the interview with View?” Jean asked relentlessly. “They really need an answer from you this morning.”

“Why didn't they call my PR people?” Tanya asked, feeling increasingly stressed with every passing moment. “They're not supposed to be calling me directly. And why aren't you telling them that?”

“I tried, but they didn't want to hear it. You know how it is, Tanya, the minute they get your number, everyone wants to talk to you directly.”

“Yeah, and so do I.” It was Tony. He was back from playing golf, and he was standing in the doorway of her office, looking anything but happy. “Can I talk to you for a minute, Tan?”

“Sure,” she said, looking up at him, feeling suddenly nervous. She had to be at the studio in half an hour, but she didn't want to put him off. He didn't look as though he'd be willing to wait another minute. Whatever was bothering him seemed urgent.

Jean left them alone, and Tanya waited for him to sit down. He looked as though he had something major to say to her, and she wasn't sure she was ready to hear it. “Is something wrong?” she asked in an anxious whisper.

“Not really,” he sighed, and looked away from her out the window. “No more than usual. And I don't want you to get me wrong.” He turned and looked at her, but she could see in his eyes how angry he still was, how betrayed he felt, not just by her, or the story the bodyguard had told, but by the fact that their life required that kind of abuse, and there was never any way to escape the torture. As celebrities, they had no right to privacy, or even honesty, and every invented tale about her, every story made up by anyone, enjoyed the protection of the First Amendment. “I'm not angry about the thing in the paper today,” he lied to himself more than to her, but he liked to believe he was fair to her, even when he wasn't, “it's not much worse than anything else they've said about us. I have a lot of respect for you, Tan. I don't know how you take all the shit you do,” and they both knew there was plenty of it. The previous Christmas, they'd had to have bodyguards for all his kids, because there'd been a very serious death threat on all of them, particularly Tanya, and his ex-wife had a fit over it. “I think you're an amazing woman.” But she didn't like the way he looked at her when he said it. It was all in his eyes and she had seen it coming for a year. He was sick of it, and he could still walk away from it. The difference was, she couldn't. Even if she decided to retire that afternoon, it would go on for a long, long time, maybe forever, and she knew it.

“What are you saying to me?” She tried not to sound cynical, but it was hard not to. She'd been there before, in various ways, with different people. She told herself she was ready for it, but in her heart of hearts, she knew she wasn't. You never were, you always hoped that this time it would be different, that he would be strong enough, that he would really care, that it would be worth it to him to stick by her and help her. It was all she'd ever wanted, maybe even more than children, just a solid, real relationship with a man who would stick around when the shit hit the fan, because it would. She had told Tony that at the beginning. And he'd been good about it, for nearly three years now, but lately he was getting testy. Too much so. “Are you telling me I'm too good for you, that I deserve better than you have to give? One of those noble little speeches that makes me feel that I'm rising to greatness while you run out the door?” She looked him in the eye, and spoke clearly. There was no point hiding from what was coming. And she knew it was now.

“That's a lousy thing to say. I've never run out on you.” He looked hurt and she felt sorry. Maybe she was premature in her accusations.

“No, but you're thinking about it, aren't you?” Tanya asked softly.

He sat looking at her for a long, time, neither confirming nor denying what she had asked him. “I don't even know what I'm saying to you. I'm just telling you I'm getting tired. This is a hard life you live, harder than anyone ever knows until they get here.”

“I warned you of that,” she said, feeling like a climber on Everest halfway through the climb, as her companions began to fail her. “I told you what it was like. It's a tough life here, Tony. There are wonderful things about it, and I love my work, but I hate what all the other stuff does to me… and to you… and to us… and the kids… I know how hard it is. But the bitch of it is, I can't do anything to stop it, and you know that.”

“I know, I know… and I have no right to complain.” He looked at her with eyes filled with embarrassment and agony, but she knew as she looked at him that, for Tony, it was over. You could just see it. He'd had his fling with Hollywood, and for him, the romance had faded. “I know how hard it is on you, and I don't mean to make it any worse. I know how hard you work, and what a perfectionist you are… but that's part of it too. There's no time in your life for me anywhere, all it is is concerts and rehearsals and recordings. You're doing great things, Tan, and meanwhile I'm sitting here reading about us in the tabloids.”

“And believing it?” she asked him bluntly. Maybe that was it. Maybe he thought it was true. The bodyguard who was suing her had been a real son of a bitch, but he was very attractive.

“No, I'm not believing it,” he sighed, “but I'm not enjoying it either. The guys I played golf with this morning made a big deal about it. Actually, some of them thought it was pretty funny, to have a wife who gets sued for sexual harassment, most of them claim their wives never want to sleep with them.” He looked embarrassed by what he was saying, but Tanya got the deeper meaning. His friends had been harassing him, and Tony was tired of being humiliated. It was a reasonable complaint, but she was tired of it too. The problem was that he could get a ticket to freedom anytime, and she couldn't. The tabloids, and the potential “suers,” were gunning for her, not her husband. “I don't know what I'm saying to you,” Tony said unhappily, “it's not much fun like this, is it?”

“No, it's not,” she said sadly, too decimated by the look in his eyes to even argue with him about it. Somehow, the bad guys always won in the end. The tabloids and the lawsuits and the threats and the pressure of all of it proved to be too much for any relationship with any normal human being. “Are you telling me you want out?” she asked miserably. He was not the love of her life, but she was comfortable with him, she trusted him, she loved him and his kids. If it had been up to her, she would never have ended their marriage.

“I'm not sure,” he admitted to her. He had been thinking about it for a while, but he hadn't come to any definite conclusions. “I'm not sure how many more rounds of this I can take, to be honest with you. And I don't want to be unfair to you. It's really starting to get to me, and I thought you should know that.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” she said, looking at him, already feeling betrayed that he wasn't there for her, that the “embarrassment” of being married to her, and what it entailed, was making him want to leave her. “I wish I could make it better.”

“I wish it didn't bother me. I never thought it would. It all seems much more human scale until you step into it, and then it's very Alice-in-Wonderland. It's all very unreal as you begin to fall and fall and fall…” he said, and listening to him reminded her again that she loved him. He was a bright man, and despite their differences, they still had a lot in common.

“That's an interesting way to put it,” she said, smiling wistfully at him, knowing in her heart of hearts that for him anyway, it was probably already over. “What about the kids?” she asked, looking suddenly distraught. “If you leave, will you still let me see them?” There were tears in her eyes as she asked him. It had all been so bloodless so far and so reasonable. The first of many talks to begin the unraveling of their marriage. But he reached out and touched her hand when he saw the devastated look in her eyes. He felt terrible at what he was seeing. And he hated himself for doing this to her, but he had known for a while that he couldn't take it much longer. And the story in the morning paper had really gotten to him.

“I still love you, Tan,” he said in a whisper, and she hated him for looking so handsome as he said it. He still appealed to her a great deal, he was sexy, handsome, and smart, even if he wasn't there for her a lot of the time but she'd always been willing to forgive him. “I just wanted to tell you what I was feeling. And even if things don't work out for us, I would never stop you from seeing the kids. They love you,” he said, looking kindly at her in a way that tore her heart out. He was saying good-bye without saying the words, but she knew it wouldn't be long now. It was over for him, if not for her.

“And I love them.” She began to cry softly, and he went to sit next to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

“They love you too, and so do I, Tan, in my own crazy way,” he said, but she didn't believe him. If he really loved her, he wouldn't want to leave her.

“What about Wyoming? Will they still come? Will you?” she asked, feeling desperate and suddenly very frightened. She was losing him, and probably them too. Why would they want to see her if their father left her? Had she established enough of a relationship in the past three years for them to want to do that? And when she looked up, Tony was looking at her strangely.

“I think they ought to go with you. I think it would be a great experience for them,” he said, looking uncomfortable, and she understood immediately what he was saying.

“But you won't come. Is that it?”

“I don't think so. I think it would be a good time for us to take a break. I think I'm going to go to Europe.”

“When did that come up? Today on the golf course?” What was happening here? How long had he been planning this defection? She suddenly wondered as she listened. And as her eyes bored into his, he looked a little sheepish.

“I've been thinking about this for a while, Tan. It didn't just happen this morning over breakfast. I think that was kind of the catalyst. But it was the Enquirer last week. The Star the week before. It's been lawsuits and crises and death threats and tabloids ever since we got married.”

“I thought you were getting used to it,” she said, sounding startled.

“I don't see how anyone can. You're not used to it either.” He had worried at times about the incredible stress it all caused her, he knew that even people as young as she was sometimes keeled over and died from too much stress. Sometimes he seriously wondered how she didn't. “Anyway, Tanya, I'm sorry.”

“So what do we do now?” She wanted to know if she was supposed to go upstairs and pack his bags for him, or make wild passionate love to him and talk him out of it. What was the protocol, and what did he expect? And even more important than that, what was it she wanted? She didn't even know herself. She was still too hurt and too startled by what he was saying.

“I'm not sure what we do,” he said honestly. “I want to think about it for a while. But I wanted to warn you of the direction I'm going.”

“Kind of like a hurricane, or a flood, sort of a natural disaster,” she said, trying to smile, but tears kept springing to her eyes, and then Jean knocked on the door and stuck her head in.

“You're an hour late at the studio. The producer called, and he wanted to remind you the meter's running. The musicians want to know if they can take an early lunch and come back in an hour. And your agent called to remind you, he needs an answer from you today by four-thirty. Bennett Pearson called too. He needs you to call him as soon as you're finished.”

“Okay, okay.” Tanya put up a hand to stop her. “Tell the musicians to take lunch now. I'll be there in half an hour. Tell Tom to wait and we'll go over the arrangements.” And how in hell was she supposed to sing, and decide about Japan, a new film, another tour, and whether or not to pay a settlement to the blackmailer who had told his story in the morning paper? As Jean left the room again, she looked up at her husband. “I guess you're right. None of this is much fun, is it?”

“Sometimes it's lots of fun,” he said, “but most of the time it isn't. There's too high a price to pay for it,” he said honestly as he stood up. He felt like hell, but secretly he was relieved, as far as he was concerned, her life was an absolute nightmare. “Go do your recording, Tan. I'm sorry I made you late. We'll talk another time. There's nothing to resolve now. I'm sorry I took so much time.” No problem. An hour. Three years. It was great fun. Hell, who can blame you for wanting to bail out now? She watched him leave the room, torn between sorrow and hatred.

“Everything all right?” Jean was back in with a stack of messages for her, and a reminder that she had to leave for the studio in the next five minutes.

“Okay, okay, I'm going, and yes, I'm fine.” Fine. Everything was always fine, even when it wasn't. And she couldn't help wondering how long it would take the press to find out, if Tony left her. It shouldn't have been a consideration, but it was. The prospect of another round of stories on her seemed exhausting.

She washed her face before she left, and tried not to cry. She put on dark glasses, and Jean drove the car. She returned some of her calls from the car, and told her agent she'd do the concert tour, including Japan. She would be on the road the following year for nearly four months, but she could fly home from time to time, and she knew how important the concert tour was. She went straight into the studio when they arrived, and stayed until six o'clock, and then she went on to the rehearsal for the benefit, and didn't get home again until eleven o'clock that evening. And when she did, she found a note from Tony on the kitchen table. He had gone to Palm Springs for the weekend. She stood for a long moment, holding the note in her hand, wondering where their life had gone, and how long it would take him now to end it. The handwriting was on the wall, and it didn't take a clairvoyant to guess that he was on his way out. She thought about stopping him, about calling him in Palm Springs, and telling him how much she loved him, how sorry she was for all the pain she'd caused. But when she picked up the phone, she just stood there. Why wasn't he there for her? Why couldn't he take the same abuse that was being heaped on her? Why was he so willing to run? The only conclusion she could come to as she thought about it was that it was entirely possible Tony Goldman had never really loved her. And if that was truly the case, she would very probably never know it. She set down the phone, and with tears in her eyes, she walked quietly toward the silence of their bedroom.