the Wedding (2000)

The Wedding

Danielle Steel

*

Chapter 1

The traffic moved along the Santa Monica Freeway at a snail's pace, as Allegra Steinberg lay her head back against the seat of the midnight blue Mercedes 300. At this rate, it was going to take forever. She had nothing particular to do on the way home, but it always seemed such an incredible waste of time just sitting there in traffic.

She stretched her long legs, sighed, and flicked on the radio, and she smiled as they started playing Bram Morrison's latest single. He was one of her clients at the law firm. She had represented him for over a year. She had a number of important clients. At twenty-nine, four years out of Yale law school, she was a junior partner at Fisch, Herzog, and Freeman. They were one of the most important firms in L.A, and entertainment law had always been her passion.

Allegra had known years before that she wanted to go into law, and it had only been for a brief, little while, after two years of summer stock in New Haven during her sophomore and junior years at Yale, that she had thought she might want to be an actress. It wouldn't have surprised anyone in her family, but it wouldn't necessarily have pleased them. Her mother, Blaire Scott, had written and produced one of the most successful shows on television for nine years. It was a comedy, well peppered with serious moments, and some occasional real-life drama. They had had the highest possible ratings for seven of their nine years, and it had earned her mother seven Emmies. Her father, Simon Steinberg, was a major movie producer, and had made some of Hollywood's most important movies. He had won three Academy Awards over the years, and his reputation for box office successes was legend. More importantly, he was that rarest of commodities in Hollywood, a nice man, a gentleman, a truly decent human being. He and Blaire were among the industry's most unusual, and most respected couples. They worked hard, and had a real family, which they devoted a lot of their time to. Allegra had a seventeen-year-old sister, Samantha, Sam, who was a senior in high school and a model, and who, unlike Allegra, did want to be an actress. Only their brother, Scott, a junior at Stanford, seemed to have escaped show business entirely. He was in pre-med, and all he wanted in life was to be a doctor. Hollywood and its alleged magic held no lure for Scott Steinberg.

Scott had seen enough of show business in his twenty years. And he even thought Allegra was crazy to be an entertainment lawyer. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life worrying about the box office, or the gross, or the ratings. He wanted to specialize in sports medicine, and be an orthopedic surgeon. Nice and sensible and down-to-earth. When the bone breaks, you fix it. He had seen enough of the agonies the rest of his family went through, dealing with spoiled, erratic stars, unreliable actors, dishonest network people who disappeared in six months, and quixotic investors. There were highs certainly, and perks admittedly, and they all seemed to love what they did. His mother derived tremendous satisfaction from her show, and his father had produced some great movies. And Allegra liked being an attorney for the stars and Sam wanted to be an actress. But as far as Scott was concerned, they could have it.

Allegra smiled to herself, thinking of him, and listening to the last of Bram's song. Even Scott had been impressed when she was able to tell him that Bram was one of her clients. He was a hero. She never said who her clients were, but Bram had mentioned her on a special with Barbara Walters. Carmen Connors was one of her clients too, the Marilyn Monroe look-alike who was the decade's new blond bombshell. She was twenty-three years old, from a town in Oregon the size of a dinner plate, and she was an ardent Christian. She had started out as a singer, and recently she'd done two movies back to back, and it turned out she was a sensational actress. She'd been referred to the firm by CAA, and one of the senior partners had introduced her to Allegra. They had hit it off instantly, and now she was Allegra's baby, literally sometimes, but Allegra didn't mind it.

Unlike Bram, who was in his late thirties and had been around the music business for twenty years, Carmen was still fairly new to Hollywood, and seemed to be constantly beset by problems. Trouble with boyfriends, men who were in love with her and she insisted she barely knew, stalkers, publicists, hairdressers, tabloids, paparazzi, would-be agents. She was never sure how to handle any of them, and Allegra was used to getting calls from her anytime, day or night, usually starting at two in the morning. The young beauty was often terrified at night, and she was always afraid that someone would break in and hurt her. Allegra had been able to control some of the terror for her with a security company that patrolled her house from dusk to dawn, a state-of-the-art alarm, and a pair of incredibly unnerving guard dogs. They were rottweilers and Carmen was afraid of them, but so were her would-be attackers and stalkers. But in spite of all that, she still called Allegra in the middle of the night, just to talk out problems she was having on the set, or sometimes just for comfort. It didn't bother Allegra; she was used to it. But her friends commented that she was as much baby-sitter as lawyer. Allegra knew it was part of the job with celebrity clients. She had seen what her parents went through with their stars, and nothing surprised her. Despite everything, she loved practicing law, and she particularly enjoyed the field of entertainment.

As she sat and waited for the traffic to move again, she pressed another button on her radio, and then thought about Brandon, as the traffic finally began to edge forward. Sometimes it took her an hour to crawl ten miles on the way home from a meeting or seeing a client at their home, but she was used to that too. She loved living in L.A., and most of the time she didn't mind the traffic. She had the top down on her car, it was a warm January afternoon and her long blond hair shimmered in the last of the winter sunlight. It was a perfect southern California day, the kind of weather she had longed for during her seven long New Haven winters while she was at Yale, first for undergraduate, and then for law school. After Beverly Hills High, most of her friends had gone to UCLA, but her father had wanted her to go to Harvard. Allegra had preferred Yale, but she had never been tempted to stay in the East after she graduated. Her whole life was based in California.

She thought of calling Brandon at the office as she picked up speed again, but she decided to wait until she got home. She returned some of her business calls from the car sometimes on the way home, but she wanted to get home and relax for a few minutes before she called him. Like her own, his workday stayed hectic right until the bitter end, sometimes even more so at the end of the day, as he met with clients he had to go to court with the next day, or arranged conferences with other attorneys or judges. He was a defense attorney, a litigator, specializing in white-collar crime, mostly federal offenses involving banks, embezzlement, and extortion. Real law, as he called it, not like what she did, he said blithely. But even Allegra had to agree that his work was as far as you could get from her practice. His personality was just as different too, he was far more tightly coiled, much more serious, and had a more intense view of life. In the two years she'd been dating him, more than once her family had accused Brandon Edwards of not having much of a sense of humor. To them, it was a definite deficiency in his character, since most of her family was capable of being somewhat outrageous.

There were a lot of things about Brandon that Allegra liked, their common interest in the law, the fact that he was both reliable and solid. She liked the fact that he had a family. He had been married for ten years to a girl he'd married while he was in law school. He had gone to Boalt at UC Berkeley, and Joanie had gotten pregnant. He had been forced to marry her, he said, and he still had feelings of resentment about it. But in some ways Joanie was still very close to him, after ten years of marriage and two children. Yet at times, Brandon still talked about how much he had hated being married to her, how confined he felt, and how much he had resented their shotgun wedding because she was pregnant. They'd had two little girls, and after law school he had gone to work for the most conservative law firm in San Francisco. It had only been by chance that they had transferred him to their L.A. office, just after he and Joanie had agreed to a trial separation. He had met Allegra the third week he'd been in town, through a mutual friend, and they had been going out for two years now. She loved him, and she loved his kids. Joanie didn't like letting them come to L.A., so usually Brandon went to San Francisco to see them, and whenever she could, Allegra went with him. The only problem was that in two years, Joanie had still not been able to find work, and she claimed it would be too traumatic for the girls for her not to be at home for them. So she was completely dependent on Brandon. And they were still arguing about their house, and their condo near Tahoe. In fact, in two years, very little had been resolved, the divorce had not yet been filed, and the financial arrangements never completed. Allegra teased him about it from time to time, about being a lawyer who couldn't get his own wife to sign a contract. But she didn't want to push him. For the moment, it meant that their relationship had to stay where it was, comfortable, but on hold, and it could go no further until he tied up all the loose ends with Joanie.

As she thought about him, and took the turnoff for Beverly Hills, she wondered if he'd be in the mood to go out to dinner. She knew he was preparing for a trial, and more than likely it would mean that he'd have to stay at the office until late that night. But she was hardly in a position to complain. Allegra had to work many nights, though usually not preparing trials. Her clients were writers, producers, directors, actors and actresses, and she did everything for them from contracts to wills, to negotiating deals for them, and handling their money or their divorces. The legal component of her activities interested her the most, but Allegra recognized better than most attorneys that with celebrity clients, or at least clients in show business, you had to be willing to handle every aspect of their complicated lives, not just their contracts. And there were times when Brandon seemed not to understand that. The field of entertainment had remained a mystery to him, despite all of the times when Allegra had tried to explain it to him. But he said that he preferred to practice law with and for normal people and in legal circumstances he understood, like a federal courtroom. He hoped to become a federal judge one day, and at thirty-six that already appeared to be a reasonable aspiration.

The phone rang in the car as Allegra made a turn, and for a minute she hoped that it would be Brandon, but it wasn't. It was her secretary, Alice. She had worked at the firm for fifteen years, and she was a lifesaver for Allegra. She had lots of common sense, a bright mind, and a soothing, maternal way of handling their more irascible clients.

Hi, Alice, what's up? Allegra asked, keeping her eyes on the road and nipping the phone on speaker.

Carmen Connors just called. I thought you'd want to know. She's very upset. She's on the cover of Chatter. It was one of the nastiest tabloids around, and they'd been eating Carmen alive for months, despite repeated warnings and threats from Allegra. But they knew just how far to go, and they were masters at going no further. They always stopped just shy of libel.

What now? Allegra asked, frowning, as she rapidly approached the little house her parents had helped her buy when she finished law school. She'd paid them back since, and she loved her little cottage, tucked away off Doheny.

The article said something about going to an orgy with one of her doctors, her plastic surgeon, I think. Poor Carmen had been foolish enough to date him once. They'd had dinner at Chasen's, and according to what she'd told Allegra, there hadn't even been sex, let alone an orgy.

Oh, for chrissake, Allegra muttered, as she pulled into her driveway with a look of annoyance. Do you have a copy there?

I'll get one on the way home. Do you want me to drop it off?

That's all right. I'll take a look at it tomorrow. I'm home. I'll give her a call right now. Thanks. Anything else?

Your mother called. She wanted to know if you can make it to dinner on Friday and she wanted to be sure you're coming to the Golden Globes on Saturday. She said she hoped you'd be there.

Of course. Allegra smiled as she sat in the stopped car, talking to Alice on the speaker. She knows that. Both of her parents were nominees this year, and she wouldn't miss being there for anything. She had invited Brandon to it more than a month ago, before Christmas.

I think she just wanted to be sure you were coming.

I'll call her too. Is that it?

That's it. It was six-fifteen. She'd left the office at five-thirty, which was early for her. But she was taking work home, and if she didn't see Brandon, she'd have time to do it.

See you tomorrow, Alice. Good night, Allegra said, and took the key out of the ignition. She grabbed her briefcase, locked the car, and hurried inside. The house seemed dark and empty, and as she walked in and tossed her briefcase on the couch, she switched on the lights and strode into the kitchen.

She had a spectacular view of the city below. It was dark by then, and the lights were twinkling like jewels, as she helped herself to an Evian and sifted through her mail. A few bills, a letter from Jessica Farnsworth, an old friend from school, a handful of catalogs, a lot of junk, and a postcard from another friend, Nancy Towers, skiing in St. Moritz. She threw most of it away, and as she sipped the Evian, she noticed Brandon's running shoes, and she smiled. The house always seemed more lived in when he left his things there. He kept his own apartment too, but he spent a fair amount of time with her. He liked being with her, and he told her so, but he was equally clear about not being ready to make a commitment. Marriage had just been too confining and too traumatic. And he was afraid to make another mistake, which was probably why he was taking so long to divorce Joanie. But Allegra had everything she wanted anyway. She had told that to her therapist, as well as her parents. And she was only twenty-nine. She was in no hurry to get married.

As she put her mail aside, she pushed her long blond hair back and flipped the switch on her answering machine, then she sat down on a bar stool at the kitchen counter. Her kitchen was impeccably neat, and everything was done in white marble and black granite. The floor was black-and-white check, and she stared absently at it as she listened to her messages. Predictably, the first one was from Carmen, and she sounded as though she'd been crying. She said something incoherent about the article, and how unfair it was, and how upset her grandmother had been. She had called Carmen that afternoon from Portland. She didn't know if Allegra would want to sue this time, but she thought they should talk about it, and she asked Allegra to call her as soon as she got home, or had a free moment. It never occurred to Carmen that Allegra had a right to her own time. Carmen needed her for her own affairs, and that was all she ever thought of, but that didn't make her a bad person.

Allegra's mother had called again, inviting her to dinner on Friday night just as Alice had said, and reminding her of the Golden Globe Awards ceremony that weekend. Allegra smiled as she listened to her. Her mother sounded really excited. Probably because Allegra's father was nominated too, but in any case, she said Scott was coming down from Stanford to watch with Sam, and she hoped Allegra would go to the ceremony with her parents.

The next message was from a tennis pro Allegra had been dodging for weeks. She had started lessons several times, but she just didn't have time to pursue it. She jotted down his name, and made a note to remind herself to call him and at least explain that she couldn't.

After that there was a message from a man she'd met over the holidays. He'd been attractive and worked for an important studio, but he wasn't playing fair. She had met him when she was with Brandon. She smiled and listened to the husky voice as he left his name and said he hoped that she would call him. But there was no question of it in her mind. She had no interest in going out with anyone but Brandon. He was the third important love affair in her life. The previous one had lasted for almost four years, through the last half of law school, and for her first two years in L.A. as an attorney. He had gone to graduate school at Yale too, and he was a director. But after four years, he had been no closer to making a commitment to her, and in the end he had moved to London. He had asked her to come too, but she was up to her neck in clients at Fisch, Herzog, and Freeman by then, and there was no way she could join him in London. Or that was what she had said anyway. But even she had figured out that there was no point giving up a great job and following him to the ends of the earth, when he simply refused to make any promises about, or even discuss, the future. Roger had lived for today, in the moment. He talked a lot about karma, and chi, and freedom. And after two years in therapy, Allegra had finally gotten smart enough not to follow him to London. So she had stayed in L.A., and had met Brandon two months later.

And even before that, Roger had been preceded by a married professor at Yale. Allegra had gotten involved with him during her senior year, and it had been an affair filled with lust and excitement and passion. She had never known anyone like him, and the only way they had been able to end it was when Tom went on sabbatical, and hiked through Nepal for a year. He had taken his wife, and their infant son, and when they'd finally returned, she was once again pregnant. By then, Allegra was seeing Roger. But there had always been some powerful electricity between them whenever their paths crossed. Eventually, she'd been relieved when he went to teach at Northwestern. He had had overwhelming feelings of desire for her, but he had never been able to translate them into any kind of clear-cut vision about their future. All he could see, when he looked down the long road ahead of them, was Mithra, his wife, and their son, Euclid. He was something of a vestige of her past now, and her therapist rarely brought him up, except to illustrate the fact that she had never had a relationship that included any kind of promises involving her future.

I'm not sure, at twenty-nine, I should have had that anyway, she had responded more than once. I've never really wanted to get married.

That's not the point, Allegra, Dr. Green always said firmly. She was from New York, and she had big dark eyes that sometimes haunted Allegra after their sessions. They had been seeing each other off and on for four years now. Allegra was comfortable with her life, it was just that there was a lot of pressure on her, a lot of expectations from her family and her law firm, and she was very busy. Has anyone ever wanted to marry you} Dr. Green honed in more than once on what Allegra always insisted was a meaningless question.

What difference does that make, if I don't want to get married?

Why don't you? Why don't you want a man who wants to marry you, Allegra? What's that all about? She was relentless.

That's just stupid. Roger would have married me, if I'd gone to London with him. I just didn't want to. I had too much going on here.

What makes you think he'd have married you? Dr. Green was like a little ferret, she got into every corner, and sniffed out every possible lead, particle of harmless-looking dust, or insect. Did he ever say so?

We never talked about it.

Doesn't that make you wonder, Allegra?

What difference does it make? That was two years ago, she would say irritably. She hated it when Dr. Green would press a point till she wore it out with her questions. This is silly. She was too young to get married anyway, and too involved in her career at the moment to think of marriage.

And what about Brandon? Dr. Green loved harping on him. Sometimes Allegra hated discussing him with her. She just didn't understand his motivations, or how traumatized he had been by having to get married when his wife was pregnant. When is he going to file?

When they settle the questions about the property and the money, Allegra always explained sensibly, speaking as an attorney.

Why don't they bifurcate the financial issues, and just get a divorce? Then they can spend as long as they like resolving the property issues.

Why? What's the point of bifurcating? It's not like we have to get married.

No. But does he want to? Do you, Allegra? Do you ever discuss it?

We don't need to discuss it. We understand each other perfectly. We're both busy, we both have major careers. We've only gone out for two years.

Some people get married a lot faster than that, or a lot slower. The point is she aimed her sharp brown eyes into Allegra's green ones have you gotten yourself involved yet again with a man who cannot make a commitment?

Of course not, Allegra answered, trying to avoid the laser gaze, but never quite succeeding. It just isn't time yet. And then Dr. Green would nod, and wait to hear what Allegra would say after.

The exchanges were almost always the same. They had been for two years, except that Allegra was no longer twenty-seven, or twenty-eight, but twenty-nine, and Brandon had been only separated for two years now. His daughters, Nicole and Stephanie, were eleven and nine, and Joanie still hadn't succeeded in securing employment. She was still dependent on Brandon for everything she needed. And like Brandon, Allegra explained it by saying Joanie had no training. She had given up college to have Nicky.

In fact, Nicole's voice was the next one on Allegra's answering machine, telling her that she hoped that Allegra was coming to San Francisco with her dad that weekend. She said she missed her, and that she hoped everything was okay, and she hoped they'd have time to go skating. And oh ‘ that's right ‘ I love the jacket you sent me for Christmas. ‘ I was going to write a note, but I forgot, and Mom said ‘ There was an embarrassed silence as the eleven-year-old voice tried to regain her composure. I'll give you the letter this weekend. Bye ‘ I love you’ . Oh ‘ this is Nicky. Bye. She hung up, and Allegra was still smiling, when she heard Brandon's message that he was working late, and was still at the office when he called her. His message was the last one.

She turned off the machine, finished the Evian, dropped it in the garbage, and picked up the phone to call his office.

She was sitting on the kitchen stool with her long legs wrapped around it as she dialed. She looked long and lean and beautiful, and she was totally unaware of her looks as she called him. She had lived in a world of extraordinary-looking people for so long, and hers was a life of the mind rather than the beauty of face and body. She never thought about it, which somehow made her even more attractive. One easily sensed about her that she didn't even care how she looked, she was totally focused on the people around her.

Brandon answered his private line on the second ring, and he sounded busy and distracted. It was easy to believe he was working. Brandon Edwards, he said, and she smiled. He had a deep, sexy voice, and she particularly liked the way he sounded. He was tall, and blond, and clean-cut, and preppy, and perhaps a little too conservative in the way he dressed, but she didn't mind that. There was something very wholesome about him, and very honest.

Hi there, I got your message, she said cryptically, and he knew who it was the moment he heard her. How was your day?

Endless, he said, still sounding frazzled. She didn't tell him about hers. He had very little interest in the clients of her law firm, and he always acted as though he thought her field of law was really more nonsense than legal. I'm going to trial next week. And I'm having a hell of a time with some of the research. I'll be lucky if I get out of here before midnight. He really sounded exhausted.

Do you want me to bring you something to eat? she asked with a small smile. I could come by with a pizza.

I'd rather wait. I've got a sandwich here now, and I don't want to stop. I'll pick something up on the way over, if it's not too late, and you still want me. She could hear something warm in his voice as she smiled in answer.

I always want you. Come as late as you want. I brought some work home too. She had the papers for Bram Morrison's next concert tour in her briefcase. I've got plenty to do to keep me busy.

Good, I'll see you later.

And then she remembered. Oh, by the way, Brandon, I got a call today from Nicky. She must have gotten mixed up on the dates, she thought we were coming to San Francisco. That's next week, isn't it? The coming weekend, he was going to the Golden Globes with her, and the following weekend they were going to San Francisco to see the children.

Actually, I ‘ I might have told her something about ‘ I thought it might make some sense to go up before the trial starts. After that, I really can't get away for a while, or at least I shouldn't. He sounded awkward as he tried to explain, and Allegra frowned as she sat looking at the view from her kitchen.

But we can't go this week. Mom and Dad are both nominated for awards, and so are three of my clients. Among them Carmen Connors. Did you forget? She couldn't believe he'd changed his mind. She'd been talking about it since before Christmas.

No, I just thought ‘ I don't have time to discuss this with you now, Allie, or I'll be stuck here all night. Why don't we talk about it later? His answer didn't put her mind to rest, and she was vague a little while later when she called her mother.

Blaire was shooting her series all week, as usual, and she was tired at night, after hours on the set, but she was always happy to hear from her older daughter. They saw each other frequently, although less so now that Allegra was so involved with Brandon.

Blaire reiterated the dinner invitation for Friday night, and told her that her brother, Scott, would be there. His homecomings were important to all of them, and Blaire liked nothing better than an evening with all her children.

Is he coming to the Golden Globes too? Allegra asked, always happy to see him.

He's going to stay home with Sam. He says award ceremonies are more fun on TV. At least he gets to see everyone he wants to, instead of being trampled by the crowd, unable to figure out who the reporters are running after.

Maybe he's right. Allegra laughed at the description. She knew that Sam would have been thrilled to go, but her parents never wanted her in the public eye, or as seldom as possible, and certainly not at the Golden Globes or the Academy Awards. Every starlet in Hollywood would be there, and every possible reporter. The only reason they had ever agreed to her modeling career was because no one knew who she was when they saw her pictures. She modeled under the name of Samantha Scott, her mother's maiden name, and although her mother was well-known, it seemed less conspicuous than Steinberg. Everyone in Hollywood knew who Simon Steinberg was, and they would have done anything to take pictures of his daughter. Anyway, I'll be there, Allegra reassured her. She was no longer quite as sure that Brandon would be there, though she didn't say anything about that to her mother. But eventually Blaire asked her. It was no secret between them that Brandon was not one of Blaire's favorite people, nor Simon's. They were both concerned that Brandon had gone out with her for two years, but still hadn't divorced his wife yet.

Will Prince Brandon be with us too? Blaire asked with an obvious edge to her voice, and Allegra hesitated for a long moment. She didn't want to get into a fight with her, but she didn't like what her mother had said, or the way she'd said it.

I'm not sure yet, Allegra said quietly, which spoke volumes to her mother. She was always defending him, and as far as Blaire was concerned, she shouldn't have to. He's preparing for trial, and he may have to work this weekend. She didn't think it was any of her mother's business that he might be going to San Francisco to see his children.

Don't you think he could break away for one night? Blaire asked skeptically, and the tone of her voice grated on Allegra like fingernails on a blackboard.

Why don't you just let it go, Mom? I'm sure he'll do his best, and if he can, he'll join us.

Maybe you should ask someone else. There's no reason for you to go alone, that's not much fun for you. It always annoyed Blaire that he left Allegra in the lurch whenever he had other plans, or too much work, or wasn't in the mood. He always did what suited him. She was always a good sport about it, and Blaire didn't see why she should be.

I'll enjoy it either way, Allegra said comfortably. I just want to be there to see you and Daddy get the awards, she said proudly.

Don't say that, Blaire said superstitiously, you'll jinx us. But there was very little that could jinx either Blaire Scott or Simon Steinberg. They had each won a Golden Globe Award several times before, and it was both prestigious and exciting, and in recent years, it often foretold how the Academy Awards would go in April. It was a night that meant a lot in Hollywood, and the Steinbergs were all excited about it.

You'll win it, Mom, I know you will. You always do. The Golden Globe was unusual because it was awarded for television as well as for movies, so it was an award which both Steinbergs could win, and had. It made Allegra very proud of her parents.

Never mind the flattery. Her mother smiled, proud of her daughter too. Allegra was a terrific girl, and she and Blaire shared a special bond, which had always kept them close together. What about Friday night? Can you come to dinner?

I'll have to let you know tomorrow, if that's all right. She wanted to discuss Brandon's plans with him, and see what he wanted to do about San Francisco. If he stayed, then she wanted him to join them for dinner at her parents', but she thought it might be easier to negotiate all at once, so she put the conversation off till morning, and they chatted for a few minutes about Scott and Sam, and her father. Blaire explained after that that she was introducing a new character on the show, and the idea had been very well received by the network. At fifty-four, she was still beautiful, and full of exciting new ideas. She loved what she did, and she had had another show before this one on the same network. And for the past nine years, she had had incredible success with her current show, called Buddies. But the ratings had wavered a little that year, and there was no doubt in anyone's mind how much the Golden Globes would help them. This time, Blaire really wanted to win it.

Blaire Scott had Allegra's long, lean looks, and a model's body, and her hair had been naturally red, but it had long since faded to a warm strawberry-blond that actually needed very little help from the bottle. She had had her eyes done once, and her neck tightened a few years before, but she had never had her face lifted. She was the envy of all her friends, and watching her age so gracefully gave Allegra a lot of hope for the future. The secret is not doing too much, she always said matter-of-factly to her daughters about plastic surgery. But Allegra always swore she'd never do it. She thought it was a waste of time to try and tackle nature. Wait a few years, you'll feel differently, Blaire said wisely. She'd said the same thing, but finally at forty-three, in the public eye more than she'd planned, she'd done the eyes, and then the neck at fifty. And as a result, she looked barely more than forty-five now. It ruins everything when people know how old you are, she teased Allegra at times, but she had no real desire to conceal her age, just to remain attractive to Simon. At sixty, he was still the handsome man he had always been. If anything he looked better now, she said, than he did when they were married.

You lie, he always grinned winningly when she said that. Allegra loved being with them. They were kind, intelligent, happy people, and they made everyone around them feel good.

I want a man like him, she had said once to Dr. Green, and then feared that Dr. Green would get all caught up in Freud, but surprisingly, she hadn't.

I'd say that's a pretty good decision, from what you've told me of your parents' marriage. Do you think you could attract a man like him? Dr. Green had asked her bluntly.

Sure, Allegra said easily, but they both knew she didn't mean it.

Allegra promised to call her mother about dinner on Friday night as soon as she knew her plans, and after that she thought about calling Nicole, and then decided against it. Joanie probably wouldn't like it. So instead, eating a half-eaten yogurt from the fridge, Allegra called Carmen. She sounded completely hysterical, as she always did, whenever a fresh story hit the tabloids. But even she had to agree that this one was silly. They claimed that she had attended an orgy in Las Vegas with her plastic surgeon. Supposedly he had given her a whole new face, new nose, new chin, breast implants, and liposuction.

How could I have done all that? she asked, aghast, still surprisingly naive, and always shocked to realize to what extent people were willing to lie about her. Like all celebrities, people claimed they'd gone to school with her, were best friends with her, had taken trips with her, and of course the number of men claiming to have slept with her were legion. Recently, even two women had made that claim, and Carmen had been reduced to tears over that too. It just seemed incredibly unfair to her that people were so willing to make up stories about her.

It's the price of success, Allegra always reminded her gently, finding it difficult to believe that she was only six years older than Carmen. The young star seemed so naive in so many ways, so unaware of the evil lurking everywhere, and surprised by the extent of the exploitation. She still wanted to believe that everyone was her friend, and no one wanted to hurt her. Except at two A.M., when she easily believed that half of Los Angeles was at her back door and about to break in and rape her. Allegra had hired a live-in housekeeper for her finally, and told Carmen to leave a light on outside her bedroom. She was afraid of the dark, and she was always scared to death of what she couldn't see just beyond her bedroom.

Listen. Allegra reassured her again about the article in Chatter. You're not old enough to have had all that work done.

Do you suppose anyone else will figure that out? All I did was have a mole removed on my forehead, she said miserably, blowing her nose again, thinking of all the things her grandmother had said when she called from Portland. She said that Carmen had shamed them all, and that God would never forgive her.

Of course they'll figure it out. Did you read the next page?

No, why? Carmen asked, stretching her perfect figure out on the couch, as she held the phone and talked to Allegra.

On the next page it probably says that a woman gave birth to identical quintuplets on Mars. And two pages after that a woman gave birth to a monkey on a UFO. If they believe that crap, then who cares if they say you had a face-lift at twenty-three? To hell with them, Carmen. You've got to toughen up a little bit, or they'll drive you crazy.

They are, she said forlornly. They talked for an hour, and finally Allegra hung up and went to take a shower, and by the time she got out and was drying her hair, Brandon pulled into the driveway.

She was at the door in a terry-cloth robe as he came up the walk, her hair was hanging down her back, wet, and her face was scrubbed clean of makeup. In some ways she was even more beautiful than when she was all done up, and he liked it when she looked natural and clean and sexy.

Wow! he said, and then kissed her hello, as he followed her inside and she locked the door behind them. It was ten o'clock at night, and he looked exhausted as he dropped his briefcase in the front hall and put his arms around her. This was definitely worth working late for, he said, kissing her, and slipping a hand inside the terry-cloth robe. She was naked beneath it.

Are you hungry? she asked him between kisses.

Starved, he answered, referring to her, not dinner.

What would you like? she asked, laughing at him, as she entwined her legs around his playfully, and took off his jacket.

Breast, I think ‘ or maybe leg’ . he said hoarsely, and then kissed her again, and a minute later they were sitting on her bed, as he unbuttoned his shirt and looked at her with eyes filled with desire. He looked tired, after his long day, but his spirits didn't seem to be dampened. He didn't even want to talk to her, he just wanted to devour her body.

She helped him take off his shirt, and he slipped out of his pants, and a few minutes later they were both naked, lying on her bed, and making love in the soft lights she had left on. He was totally enraptured with her, and an hour later they both lay spent and pleased, and as she started to drift off to sleep, she felt him get up, and it woke her.

Where are you going? she asked, rolling over and opening an eye to look at him in all his long, tall, blond splendor. They were well matched, and their looks were so similar that sometimes people thought they were brother and sister.

It's late, he said apologetically, slowly gathering up his clothes from the floor of her bedroom.

Are you going home? She looked surprised, as she sat up and stared at him. He seemed embarrassed when she asked him the question. They hadn't even talked to each other. All they'd done was make love, and fall asleep. And she didn't want him to leave her.

I thought ‘ I have to go in really early tomorrow, and I didn't want to wake you. He looked awkward, but anxious to leave. He did that often.

What difference does it make if you have to get up early? So do I. She seemed hurt by his defection. You have clean shirts here. I have to be up early too. It's nice when we sleep together. It was nice, and she knew he liked it, but she knew that he also liked going home to his own apartment. He liked his own space, his own things; he had told her several times over the past two years that he liked waking up in his own bed, and yet they seldom made love at his place. He always seemed to come here, to her house, but at least half the time he liked going back to his own apartment. In an odd way, it sometimes made her feel used, and discarded, and it was a particularly lonely feeling after he was gone and she was alone in her own house. For some odd reason, she had told her therapist, it made her feel abandoned. But she didn't like being put in the position of begging him, and she didn't want to push him now if he didn't want to stay. She was just very disappointed. I'd like it if you stayed, Brandon, she said quietly, but she didn't say anything more as he finally went to shower, and then came back to bed. To Brandon it seemed easier to stay the night than argue.

And as they lay together that night, Allegra smiled at him. There may have been some things to work out in their relationship, like his divorce and his preference for sleeping alone, but there was no doubt in her mind that she loved him.

Thanks for staying here, she said softly, as she lay in his arms, and he gently touched her cheek, and then kissed her. And a moment later, he was snoring.

Chapter 2

Allegra got up the next morning before the alarm went off at six-fifteen. That was the time Brandon had set it for. He got up and went to brush his teeth and shave, while she walked out to the kitchen naked, to make coffee.

He was at the breakfast table, fully dressed, by six forty-five, and she put two blueberry muffins in front of him, and a steaming cup of coffee.

Great service at this restaurant, he said, looking pleased. And I love what the servers wear, he said, admiring her body as she sat down across the table from him, still naked.

You look pretty good too, she said, admiring his dark gray suit. He bought everything he wore at Brooks Brothers, and every now and then she tried wandering him through Armani on Rodeo Drive, hoping to jazz him up a little. But that wasn't Brandon's look at all. He was pure Wall Street. I'd say you look pretty damn great for this hour of the morning. She grinned through a yawn, and poured herself a cup of coffee. She didn't have to be at her office till nine-thirty. What are we doing tonight, by the way? she asked. She'd been invited to a premiere, and she wasn't sure if he could go, with his trial to prepare. She doubted it, and she didn't really want to go either.

I've got to work. No more playtime. I told the other guys I'd stick around tonight till midnight, he said, looking mildly panicked at all the work they had to do. Preparing for trial was always like that, which was why she was glad her firm had a litigation team, and she never had to do the actual trial work. She just had to collaborate with them, and give them information. In many ways, what she did was simpler. It was creative in its own way, but it didn't make the brutal demands on her that federal defense work did on Brandon.

Do you want to come here when you're through? she asked, trying not to sound like a supplicant. She liked having him come home to her, and he didn't always want to. And she didn't want him to feel pressured.

I'd love to, he said regretfully. But I really can't. I'll be bushed when I'm through. I've got to go home sometime.

My parents invited us to dinner on Friday, she said, extending the invitation to him. She knew that, in the end, her mother would have invited him anyway, just to please her daughter, whether or not they liked him.

I'm going to see the girls on Friday night, he said matter-of-factly, finishing one of the muffins. I told you.

I didn't think you were serious, she said, looking surprised. What about the Golden Globes? Her eyes were filled with her expectations. They're important. They were important to her, but not to Brandon.

So are Stephanie and Nicky. I have to see them before the trial, he said firmly.

Brandon, I told you about the Golden Globes months ago. That's a big deal to me, and to my parents. And Carmen is nominated too. I can't just forget all that and go to San Francisco, she said, trying to sound calmer than she felt. It was only seven o'clock in the morning.

I understand that you can't go. I don't expect you to, he said perfectly calmly.

But I expect you to go with me, she said, an edge developing in her voice, despite her best efforts. I want you to be there.

That's not a reasonable expectation, Allegra. I told you, I can't. I told you why. I don't see any point in belaboring it. Why do that?

Because it means a lot to me. She took a breath, trying not to get angry at him. There had to be a way to solve the problem to everyone's satisfaction. Look, why don't you stay and go to the awards with me, and we'll fly to San Francisco for the day on Sunday? How's that for a compromise? She looked totally victorious, thrilled that there had been a rational solution, but he was shaking his head and taking a last sip of coffee before he bolted.

That won't work, Allie, sorry. I need more than a day with them. I can't do that.

Why? She knew she was starting to whine, and she reminded herself to stop it.

Because they need more time, and frankly because I need some time to talk to Joanie about the condo at Squaw. She thinks she wants to sell it.

That's ridiculous, Allegra said, losing it finally. You can do that on the phone. For chrissake, Brandon, you've done nothing but talk to her about the condo or the house or the carpet or the car or the dog for the last two goddamn years. This award ceremony is important to us. She was including her family, and he was noticeably unmoved. To him, this was about his family, which consisted of his ex-wife and two daughters. I'm not giving you up to Joanie, she said bluntly.

You're not. He smiled as he stood up, unwilling to be swayed by her, and perfectly willing to show it. But how about to Stephanie and Nicky?

They'd understand if you explained it to them.

I doubt it. And anyway, that's not an option. He stood looking at her, and she stared at him, unable to believe that he was going to let her down and go to San Francisco.

When are you coming back? she asked, aching inside, and wishing she weren't. She was feeling abandoned again, and something in her gut was terrified, and she knew she shouldn't give in to it. He was going to San Francisco to see his kids, and if he was disappointing her it wasn't intentional. It just happened. And yet, why did she feel so terrible about his decision?

She couldn't quite seem to grasp the answer, or even decide if she should be really furious, or just sad that he wasn't going to the Golden Globes with her. Was it really such a big deal? Did she have a right to make those demands on him? And why, when it came to her needs, were his reactions always so confusing? Was it, as Dr. Green said, because she didn't want to admit to herself what he was doing? Was he rejecting her, or just doing what he had to? And why could she never bring herself to answer those questions?

I'm coming back when I always do, on the last plane on Sunday night. I'll be back at ten-fifteen. I could be here by eleven, he said to pacify her, and then she realized with an ache in her heart that she wouldn't be there.

I just remembered, I'm leaving for New York Sunday afternoon. I'll be there all next week, till Friday.

Then you couldn't have come to San Francisco anyway, he said matter-of-factly.

I could leave from there, if you want. If we fly up on Sunday.

That's ridiculous, he said, dismissing her plan as he picked up his briefcase. You have your work to do, Allie, I have mine, and sometimes we just have to be grown-ups about it. He smiled at her almost wistfully as they each realized they wouldn't see one another again for ten days, until the following weekend.

Do you want to come by tonight and stay here, since I won't see you for such a long time? She really wanted him to do that, but as usual, he stuck to his original plan. It was rare for Brandon to make changes.

I really can't. By the time we're through, I'll be too beat to see straight. I wouldn't be much fun for you, and there's no point in just coming here to sack out, is there? But that was where they differed.

Sure there is. You don't have to entertain me, she said as she stood on tiptoe, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

I'll see you next week, kiddo, he said coolly, after he kissed her. I'll call you tonight, and tomorrow I'll give you a call before I leave for San Francisco.

Do you want to have dinner at Mom's on Friday before you go? she asked, hating herself for begging. It was exactly what she knew she shouldn't do, except she just couldn't stop herself. She wanted to be with him.

I'd probably miss my plane like I did last time, and then the kids would be upset.

The kids? she asked, raising an eyebrow, and silently telling herself to stop before she blew it. Or Joanie?

Come on, Allie, be a good girl. You know I can't help it. I've got a trial, you've got a trip to New York, I've got two kids in San Francisco. We've both got our obligations. Why don't we just do what we have to do, and then get together afterward and enjoy it? He made it all sound so sensible, and yet some part of her didn't buy it the part that was always disappointed when he didn't show up, like for the awards, or when he went home after they made love, to sleep alone at his place. At least he had spent the night with her the night before, and she reminded herself that she should be grateful for that, and stop nagging him about the weekend.

I love you, she said, as he kissed her in the doorway, and she stood back a little bit so no one could see her naked.

Me too, he smiled at her. Have fun in New York. And don't forget to take your long Johns. It said in the Times today it's snowing.

Great. She looked forlorn as she watched him go, then waved as he got into his car. She closed the front door, and then watched him from her bedroom window as he backed down her driveway. She felt sick as she watched him drive away. Something felt wrong and she wasn't sure what it was, the fact that he wouldn't change his plans, or was going to see Joanie again, with the girls, or just the simple reality that she had to go to the Golden Globes alone now, and explain it to her parents. Or maybe just knowing that she wouldn't see him again for ten days. All of it made her feel miserable as she walked into her bathroom and turned on the shower.

She stood there for a long time, with the water running on her face, as she thought of him and wondered if he'd ever change. Or would he always want to sleep alone, decide it was too much trouble to come by after work, and be married to Joanie forever? As her tears mingled with the hot water, and she told herself how foolish she was to be upset, somehow she couldn't find the answers.

She was exhausted when she finally turned the shower off half an hour later. He was probably at his office by then, and it seemed so odd to her to think that he was still in town, that he would be for two days and she wouldn't see him. And yet, when she tried to explain feelings like that to him, about needing him, or just wanting to be with him, he didn't seem to get it.

Why do you think that is? Dr. Green always asked her.

How do I know? Allegra had snapped at her on more than one occasion.

Do you think it could be due to a lack of commitment on his part? Dr. Green usually persisted. Or maybe that he doesn't care as much for you as you do for him? Or maybe he's just unable to make the kind of commitment you want, she suggested pointedly, following a familiar theme that always unnerved Allegra. Why was she always suggesting that the men in Allegra's life gave her far too little? Why was it a recurring theme, and why did she keep trying to say that it was a pattern? It really annoyed her.

Allegra threw the rest of the blueberry muffins away. He had almost finished them, and she wasn't hungry anyway. She made herself a fresh cup of coffee, and then went to dress. She was ready to leave for work by eight-thirty, and she had some time to spare before she braved the freeway traffic. She glanced at her watch, and knew that her mother would have left for the studio at four A.M., but she left a message on her machine, confirming that she would join them for dinner on Friday night, and she'd be alone. She was sure that when she got there, it would cause comment, particularly if she told them where he was. But at least in the meantime, she didn't have to hear it.

And then, dialing from memory, she called a Beverly Hills number that half the women in America would have given their right arm for. They had been friends since they were fourteen, boyfriend and girlfriend for a brief six months in their sophomore year in high school, and best friends ever since then. He answered, as he always did, unless he was occupied or out, on the second ring, and she smiled at the familiar voice, that to all ears but her own sounded intolerably sexy.

Hi, Alan, it's only me. Don't get too excited. She always smiled when she talked to him, he was that kind of person.

At this hour? He sounded horrified to hear from her, except that she knew he usually got up fairly early. He had just finished a film in Bangkok and he'd been home for three weeks. She also knew that he had just finished a romance with British film star Fiona Harvey. She had heard it from his agent. What did you do last night? Get arrested? Are you calling to get bailed out?

Precisely. Pick me up at the Beverly Hills police station in twenty minutes.

Not on your life. All lawyers belong in jail. As far as I'm concerned, you can stay there. He was thirty years old, with the face and body of a Greek god, but he also happened to be intelligent, and a genuinely decent person. He was one of Allegra's closest friends and the only man she could think of to take to the awards with her. Thinking of Alan Carr as her fallback date somehow made her laugh. Most of the women in America would have died just to meet him.

What are you doing Saturday? she asked bluntly, swinging her foot like a kid, and trying not to think of Brandon, or let him upset her.

None of your business, thank you very much, he said, pretending to sound outraged.

Do you have a date?

Why? Are you going to fix me up with another one of your scary partners? I think the last one was bad enough, you witch!

Oh, come on, you shit. That wasn't a date and you know it. You needed an expert on Peruvian law, and that's what she does, so don't give me any garbage. In fact, I happen to know that she gave you about three thousand dollars' worth of legal advice for free that night, so stop bitching.

Who's bitching? He sounded demure and pretended to be shocked by her language.

You are, and you didn't answer my question.

I have a date with a fourteen-year-old girl who will probably wind me up in jail. Why?

I need a favor. She could tell him anything without artifice or embarrassment; she loved him like a brother.

Yeah. So what else is new? You always need a favor. Who wants my autograph this time?

No one. Absolutely not a soul. I need your body.

Now, there's an intriguing offer. More than once in the past fourteen years, since their last attempt at romance, he had told himself that he should reach out to her again, but she was so like a sister to him that he could never quite bring himself to do it. Yet, she was beautiful, intelligent, and he knew and liked her better than any other woman on the planet. But maybe that was the problem. What exactly do you have in mind for this beaten up, scarred old body?

Nothing pleasant, I swear. And then she laughed. Actually, it won't be too bad. It should be fun. I need a date for the Golden Globes. Mom and Dad are both nominees, and so is Carmen Connors, one of my clients. And I've got two other clients who're contenders. I have to go, and I really don't want to go alone. She was honest with him, she always was, and he loved that.

What happened to what's his name? Alan knew perfectly well what his name was, and he had also told Allegra several times that he didn't like him. He thought Brandon was cold and pompous. And she hadn't talked to him for weeks after the first time he said it. Since then she had gotten used to it, because Alan never missed an opportunity to tell her what he thought, but this time he spared her.

He has to go to San Francisco.

How nice of him, Al. What great timing. Great guy. To see his wife?

No, you asshole, to see his kids. He's starting a trial on Monday.

I'm not sure I understand the connection, he said coolly.

He won't be able to see the kids for a couple of weeks, so he wants to go up and see them.

Have they canceled all the nights from San Francisco to L.A.? Why can't the little darlings come here to see their Daddy?

Their mom won't let them.

Well, that leaves you up shit creek, doesn't it?

Yeah, it does, which is why I called you. Can you make it? she asked hopefully. It really would be fun to go with him. It was always fun being with Alan. It was like being kids again, and they usually told a lot of jokes, laughed a lot, and got pretty rowdy.

It's a sacrifice, but I guess if I really have to, I could change some plans’ . He said with a sigh, and she laughed.

You bullshitter, I'll bet you don't have a thing to do.

I do too. Actually, I was going bowling.

You? She laughed even harder. You wouldn't last five minutes before you'd be mobbed. There's no way you can go bowling.

I'll take you sometime and prove it.

That's a deal. I'd love it, she beamed. As usual, he'd bailed her out. She didn't have to go to the awards alone. Alan Carr was one friend she could always count on.

What time shall I pick you up, Cinderella? He sounded pleased with the arrangement. He always enjoyed being with her.

It starts pretty early. Six o'clock?

I'll be there.

Thanks, Alan, she said, and meant it. I really appreciate it.

Don't be so goddamn grateful, for chrissake. You deserve someone better than me you deserve that jerk to take you, if that's what you want. So don't thank me. Just think how lucky I am. That's what you want to think. What you need is some attitude. How the hell did you ever get so humble? You're too smart to be like that. I'd love to teach that guy a thing or two. He doesn't know how lucky he is. San Francisco, my ass ‘ Alan was muttering and Allegra was laughing, but she felt a thousand times better.

I've got to go to work. See you Saturday. And do me a favor, try to stay sober, will ya?

Don't be such a nag. No wonder you can't get a date. They teased each other. He drank a fair amount, but he rarely got drunk, and never misbehaved. The two just liked to play. But she felt human again as she drove to work. Alan had really lifted her spirits.

All day she felt better about things than she had early that morning. She met with some of the promoters for Bram's tour, worked out some security details for Carmen, met with another client about her children's trusts, and by the end of the afternoon she was surprised to realize that she had forgotten all about Brandon. It still bothered her that he wasn't going to the Golden Globes with her, but at least she didn't feel as devastated about it as she had that morning. And as she thought about it, she realized now, she'd been foolish. He had a right to see his kids. And maybe he was right. Maybe they both had to think of their careers, do what they had to do and then get together for whatever time was left over. It wasn't a very romantic way to live, but maybe for the moment it was all they had room for. Maybe that wasn't so bad after all, and maybe, as he suggested from time to time, she was just too demanding.

Is that what you think? Dr. Green asked her that afternoon when they met for their weekly appointment.

I don't know what I think, Allegra admitted. I know what I think I want, but then when I talk to Brandon, I feel as though I'm being unreasonable and I'm asking too much of him. I'm not sure which is right, or if I just scare him.

That's an interesting possibility, Dr. Green said coolly. Why do you think you scare him?

Because he's not ready for as much as I want from a relationship, or as much as I want to give it.

You think you're ready for more? Why? Dr. Green asked her with interest.

I think I'd really like to live with him, and I think he's scared to death to.

What makes you say that? Dr. Green was beginning to think Allegra was making headway.

I think he's scared, because he wants to go home to his own apartment at night. He really doesn't want to spend the night at my place if he can help it.

Does he want you to go with him? Is it territorial?

No. Allegra shook her head slowly. He says he needs his own space. Once he told me that when we wake up together in the morning, it makes him feel married. And that wasn't a good experience for him, so he doesn't want it again.

He has to work that out, or else be alone for the rest of his life. It's his choice to make. But his choices will affect your life with him, Allegra.

I know that. But I don't want to rush him.

Two years is not a rush, Dr. Green said, looking disapproving. It's time for him to make some changes. Unless you're happy with the status quo, she said, always giving Allegra options. If this is what you want, then we have no complaints, do we? Is it?

I don't know; I don't think so, Allegra said, looking nervous. I'd like more. I don't like it when he withdraws to his own world. Or even when he goes to San Francisco without me. And then she admitted something that made her feel stupid. I worry about his ex-wife sometimes, that she'll get him back. She's still very dependent on him. I think that's all part of what makes him shy away from commitment.

Well, he'd better get his act together one of these days, don't you think so, Allegra?

I guess so, she said cautiously. But I don't think it would be right to give him ultimatums.

Why not? Dr. Green asked bravely.

He wouldn't like it.

And? She pushed harder, just as she wanted Allegra to push Brandon.

He might end the relationship if I push him too hard.

And what would that do? Dr. Green asked her.

I don't know, Allegra said, looking frightened. She was a strong woman, and yet she never was strong enough with Brandon, just as she hadn't been with the two men before him. She was afraid to be, which was why she still saw Dr. Green after nearly four years now.

If the relationship ended, it might free you up to meet someone who would be more willing to make a commitment. Would that be so terrible?

Probably not. Allegra smiled anxiously. But pretty scary.

Sure. But you'd get over it. Sitting here waiting forever for Brandon to unlock the pearly gates may do you a lot more harm than a little fear over meeting someone more open to loving you, Allegra. It's something to think about, isn't it? she asked, boring into Allegra's eyes with her own, and then, with her usual warm smile, the session was over.

In some ways, it was like going to a Gypsy fortune-teller. As she left, Allegra tried to run through in her mind everything she'd said, and there were always things she remembered, and others that she tried desperately to recall but had forgotten. But on the whole, the sessions did her good, and they had done a lot of work together over the years about her penchant for finding men who were unable, or unwilling, to love her. It was an old, old pattern in her life, and one she didn't like to think about, or even talk about. She hoped that, after all this time, she was improving.

She went back to her office after that, tied up some loose ends, and her last meeting of the day was with Malachi O'Donovan, a new client. He was a friend of Bram Morrison's, her vastly successful rock star client, and this one was less so, but also very important. He was from Liverpool originally, but had long since become a citizen by marrying an American woman. His wife's name was Rainbow, and they had two children, named Swallow and Bird. Allegra was used to it. Very little that was done or said in the rock world surprised her.

O'Donovan had a checkered history of arrests and drugs, a couple of assaults, and some messy lawsuits. He had spent a little time in jail over the years, and a lot of time with lawyers, and he seemed very intrigued with Allegra. He responded to her sexually at first, but when she ignored it, and purposefully stuck to business with him, eventually he settled down, and they had a very interesting conversation. And she thought she could help him with some of his legal problems, most of which were stemming from a world tour he was trying to organize, but he was drowning in red tape and legal issues.

We'll see what we can do, Mai. I'll be in touch, after I get some of your files from your current attorney.

Don't bother with my last lawyer, he told her with a shrug as he left. He's an asshole, he said in a rich brogue.

We need his records anyway. She smiled at him warmly. I'll call you as soon as I know something.

He liked her very much. Morrison hadn't steered him wrong. She was smart, and got straight to the point with no bullshit. He liked that. You call me anytime you like, luv, he said softly as Rainbow went ahead to the elevator, and Allegra pretended not to hear him, and went back to close up her office.

In the end, she went home late herself that night. She read some files, and checked over some more of Bram's contracts. And Carmen had just had a very interesting offer to do a film that could be very important for her. It was challenging work, and Allegra loved it.

She was in good spirits when she got home, and it was only then that she realized she hadn't heard from Brandon all day, and she wondered if he had been irritated with her pressing him about the Golden Globe Awards that morning.

She called him at the office around nine o'clock, and he sounded pleased to hear from her. He told her he'd been working nonstop for the past thirteen hours, and he'd been just about to call her.

Did you eat? she asked solicitously, sorry that she'd gotten angry at him. And then she remembered what Dr. Green had said to her. She had a right to expect more than he was willing, or perhaps even able, to give her.

They bring us sandwiches every few hours. Half the time, we forget to eat them.

You should go home and get some sleep at a decent hour, she reminded him, wishing he would come to her house. But this time she didn't ask him, and he didn't suggest it. And then he felt the pull to go back to work and his colleagues.

I'll call you tomorrow before I leave for San Francisco.

I'll be at my parents'. I'm going to go straight from the office.

Maybe I won't call then, he said simply, and she wanted to scream. Why did he shy away from everything she cared about, especially her family? It was all about his phobia about commitment. I'll call you after I get there. I'll call you at your house.

Whatever you like, she said calmly, glad that she had had the opportunity to review it with Jane Green. It always made it seem so much simpler and clearer, and less dramatic. It was so simple really. He wasn't able to reach out to her and love her openly and freely. But would he ever? She wanted to marry him, if he could ever get himself divorced and relaxed enough to let himself really love her. She thought he did, in his own way, but it was also obvious that he was severely hampered by his memories of what had happened to him with Joanie.

Did you work things out for the Golden Globes? he asked her suddenly, and she was surprised he'd brought it up at all, it was such a sore subject.

Yes, it's fine, she said, dismissing it, not wanting to admit to him that she was still upset about it. I'm going with Alan.

Carr? He sounded shocked. He had expected her to go alone, with her parents.

I thought you'd just go with your brother and your parents, or something like that.

She smiled at his na+»vet+¬. The Golden Globe Awards was one of the most sophisticated events of the year, it was not the kind of place she would have wanted to go with her twenty-year-old brother. I'm a little old for that, you know. Alan's fine about it though. He'll make me laugh all night and say rude things about all the big stars, but they all know him and love him.

I didn't expect you to fill my shoes quite so handsomely, he said, sounding both peeved and jealous, and she laughed. Maybe it was good for him.

I'd rather be with you than Alan any day, she said honestly.

Just remember that, he smiled. That's one hell of a compliment, Allie. I've never thought of myself in the same league with Alan Carr.

Well, don't let it go to your head, she teased, and they talked for a few minutes and then hung up, but he never suggested spending the night with her, and she felt depressed again as she lay in bed and thought about it. She was twenty-nine years old, with a boyfriend who preferred sleeping alone in his own bed to being with her, at least some of the time, if not most, and who had ditched her for an event that was important to her, in order to be with his ex-wife and two daughters. No matter how you turned it around, or dressed it up, it still hurt her feelings. And it left her feeling lonely. He was oddly withdrawn in his own way, and no matter what her needs, he always did what he wanted.

You deserve better than that. She heard Dr. Green's voice ringing in her ears that night as she fell asleep, and she couldn't remember if she'd actually said those words or if that was the gist of what she'd intended. But as she drifted off to sleep, Allegra could see the therapist's intense brown eyes staring at her, and reinforcing the message. I deserve better than that, she whispered to herself ‘ better than that ‘ but what did that mean? And then, suddenly, all she could see was Alan ‘ laughing ‘ but was he laughing at her? Or at Brandon?

Chapter 3

The Steinberg home in Bel Air was one of the prettiest in the area, and it was large and comfortable, but it was by no means palatial. Blaire had decorated it herself years before when they moved in just after Scott was born, and she was good about recovering things and redoing rooms to keep them fresh and neat and current. The children teased her about their home being a constant work in progress.

But she liked keeping it looking new, and she used a lot of bright, cheerful colors. The feeling throughout was one of casual elegance and warmth. It was a place people loved to visit. The view from the patio and the living room was spectacular. And for months now, she'd been talking about replacing the kitchen walls with glass. But she'd been so busy with the show that she hadn't had time to do it.

Allegra went to the house straight from work, and as always when she arrived, she felt surrounded by the warmth and generosity of her family and the house she'd grown up in. Her room was still as it had been when she left for college eleven years before. The wallpaper and the curtains and bedspread had been redone once while she was in law school. It was a soft peach watered silk, and once in a while she still spent a night there, or a weekend. Coming home and being with them was always fun and relaxing. Her room was on the same floor as her parents' suite, which consisted of their bedroom, two handsome dressing rooms, and two offices they each used when they had to work at home, which was often. There were two guest rooms on that floor too. And upstairs, Sam and Scott had their own suite of rooms, and a large sitting room between them. They shared a huge TV, a small movie screen, a pool table, and a fantastic sound system their father had given them for Christmas. It was every teenager's dream just being there, and there were always at least half a dozen of Sam's friends hanging around, talking about school, and plans for college, and their boyfriends.

Sam was in the kitchen when Allegra came in, and it was hard not to notice how beautiful she had become in the past year. Suddenly, at seventeen and a half, she had grown into looks that had been striking before, but were now even more so. She had star quality, her father's associates said, and her mother always growled when they said it. Sam's first priority had always been school. Blaire didn't mind her having a small modeling career, but she wasn't very enthused at the idea of her youngest child becoming an actress. It was a rough career, and seeing what she did all around her every day, she was beginning to think she'd prefer it if Samantha stayed out of the business. But there wasn't much they could say to her. She had been exposed to it all her life, and for the moment, an acting career seemed to be all that Sam wanted. She had applied to UCLA, Northwestern, Yale, and NYU for what they had to offer in drama, and given her top grades, she had a good shot at all of them. But unlike Allegra a decade before, she didn't want to go East. She wanted to stay in L.A, and maybe even live at home. She wanted to go to UCLA, and she had already been accepted, through early admission.

She was eating an apple, when Allegra walked in on Friday night after the office, and her long blond hair hung down her back like a sheet of pale yellow-gold. Her eyes were huge and green like her sister's.

Hi, kiddo. How's life? Allegra looked happy to see her as she walked over, gave her a kiss, and put an arm around her shoulders.

Not bad. I did some modeling this week. For an English photographer. He was cool. I like the foreign ones, they're nice to me. I modeled for a French one in November. He was on his way to Tokyo. This job was a layout for the L.A. Times. And I saw the rough cut of Dad's new movie. Like all teenagers, she spoke in non sequiturs, but Allegra understood her.

How was Dad's movie? Allegra asked, helping herself to some carrot sticks, and giving Ellie a warm hug of greeting. She had been their cook for twenty years, and she shooed them both out of the kitchen.

It was okay. It was hard to tell. They still had some of the scenes put in the wrong places. It looked pretty cool though. And so did Sam. Allegra smiled to herself as the younger girl bounded upstairs. She was all legs and arms and hair; she was like a wild, beautiful young colt bounding over everything. She seemed so young, and yet so grown-up suddenly. It was hard to believe how fast it had gone, but she was almost a woman. When Allegra had left home for Yale eleven years before, Sam had only been six years old, and in some ways that was how they all still thought of her, as the baby.

Is that you? her mother called down the stairs, peeking over the banister, looking barely older than her daughters. The soft red hair was swept up on her head, and framed her face softly, with two pens stuck in it, and a pencil. She was wearing jeans and a black turtleneck, and high-top black Converse sneakers that she had bought for Sam, but Sam wouldn't wear them. Blaire looked like a kid, until you looked closer and saw how lovely she was, and how gently touched by age, and she had the same lanky figure as her daughters. How are you, darling? she asked, kissing Allegra and then hurrying off to answer the phone. It was Simon. He was late. He had a problem at the office, but he'd be home in time for dinner.

It was their closeness to each other which had saved them from the stresses of Hollywood over the years, that and the fact that she and Simon had a wonderful marriage. She seldom admitted it, but Blaire's life had been a shambles when she met him. She was in dark despair, and it seemed as though after they were married, everything changed for the better. Her career had taken off from there, their babies had come quickly and easily and been warmly welcomed. They loved their home, and their kids, their careers, and each other. There was absolutely nothing more that either of them would have added, except maybe more children. She'd been thirty-seven when Sam was born, and at the time that had almost seemed too old to her, so she stopped. And now she regretted not having had at least one more, but the three children they had gave them enormous joy, in spite of the occasional squabble with Samantha. Blaire knew she was a little spoiled, but she was a good girl. She did well at school, never really did anything wrong, and if she argued with her mother from time to time, it seemed appropriate to her age and her culture.

When Blaire hung up the phone, she went upstairs and saw Allegra staring out the window of her bedroom, and wandered in to see her.

You can always come home whenever you want, you know, she said softly, watching her oldest child looking surprisingly wistful. She wanted to ask her if something was wrong, but she didn't quite dare. Blaire was always worried that Allegra didn't get enough emotional support from Brandon. He was so independent about everything, and he seemed so unaware of Allegra's needs and feelings. Blaire had done her best to like him in the past two years, but she just didn't.

Thanks, Mom. Allegra smiled at her, and then lay spread-eagled on the big four-poster. Sometimes it felt great just being there, even if she only came home for a couple of hours, and sometimes she also resented the hold they still had on her. She was still so close to them, at times it worried her. She loved them so much, she had never cut ties that other women her age had long since severed. But why should she? Brandon complained that she was too close to them. He claimed that it was unhealthy, and not normal. But she got along so well with them, and they were so supportive of her. What was she supposed to do? Stop seeing them because she was turning thirty?

Where's Brandon? her mother asked, trying to sound casual. She had gotten Allegra's message that she was coming to dinner alone, and she had to admit, she was relieved, but of course she didn't say so. Working late?

He had to go to San Francisco to see the girls, Allegra said, sounding as casual as her mother. But they both knew it was all a ruse to give the impression that they were neither concerned nor bothered.

He'll be back tomorrow though, I'm sure. Blaire smiled, irritated on Allegra's behalf that he never seemed to be there for her. But she was startled by her daughter's answer.

Actually, no. He needed the weekend with them. He's starting a trial on Monday, and he wasn't sure when he'd get back to see them.

He's not coming to the awards? Blaire looked stunned. Did this mean anything? Was this one of the early signs of a breakup? She tried to look merely surprised and not hopeful.

No, it's no big deal. Allegra lied, not wanting to admit to her how upset she had been. It made her feel so vulnerable to admit to her mother when she had problems with Brandon. It made her feel so inadequate when she had trouble with him. Her mother never did with her father. Her parents' relationship had always been perfect. I'm going with Alan.

That's nice of him, Blaire said, looking tight-lipped, and sitting down in a comfortable chair near the four-poster. Allegra was watching her. She knew there would be more, and the inevitable questions. Why wasn't he divorced? Why did he go to San Francisco to see his ex-wife all the time? Did she feel that the relationship was going anywhere? Did she realize that on her next birthday she was turning thirty? Doesn't it bother you when he's not here for things that are important to you? Her mother's clear, blue-eyed gaze cut straight to her soul, and Allegra tried not to let it.

Sometimes, but as he says, we're both grownups with big jobs, and a lot of obligations. Sometimes we just can't be there for each other, and we have to understand it. There's no point making a fuss over it, Mom. He's got two kids in another city, and he needs to see them.

His timing just seems very poor. Doesn't it to you? Allegra wanted to scream, listening to her. And the last thing she wanted to do tonight was defend Brandon. She was upset about it herself, and she didn't want to justify his behavior to her mother. But as the two women exchanged a glance, a tall, dark-haired young man appeared in the doorway.

Who are you two tearing apart now? Brandon, I assume, or is there someone new on the horizon? Her brother, Scott, had just arrived from the airport, and Allegra sat up on her bed with a delighted grin as he took two long strides, sat down next to her, and hugged her.

My God, you've grown again, she said with a groan, as her mother watched them with a warm smile. He looked just like his father. He was six five, and, fortunately, seemed to have stopped growing. He was playing basketball at Stanford. How big are your feet now? Allegra teased. Hers were small for her height, but Sam wore a size nine, and Scott was wearing a size thirteen the last time she asked him.

Still a size thirteen, thanks a lot. He walked over and hugged his mother then, and sat down on the floor to chat with them both. Where's Dad?

On his way home from the office, I hope. He called a little while ago. Sam's upstairs. And dinner's in ten minutes.

I'm starving. He looked great, and it was obvious, from the way she looked, how proud his mother was of him. They all were. He was going to be a terrific doctor. So what's the inside scoop? he asked, turning to Blaire. Are you going to win, as usual, or are you going to disgrace us for once?

Disgrace you, I'm sure. She laughed, trying not to think of the Golden Globes. Even after all these years of writing and producing hit shows, award ceremonies always made her nervous. I think Dad's the one who's going to make us proud this year, she said cryptically, but she wouldn't say more, and then five minutes later, he pulled into the driveway. They all hurried downstairs, and Blaire called upstairs to Sam to get off the phone and come to dinner.

It was a lively meal, and the two men tried to engage in serious conversation over the female hubbub of gossip and news and talk about the awards, and Sam's barrage of questions about Carmen, what she was like, what she wore, who she was going out with. And in the midst of it all, Blaire sat back with a small smile and watched them, her three children, and the husband she had loved for all these years. Not unlike Scott, he was still tall and dark and handsome. He was six four, and there was just a small smudge of gray hair now at his temples, and small crinkles around his eyes, but even those small traces of time only served to make him more attractive. He was a fabulous-looking man, and just watching him still made Blaire tingle. But there was a small ache to it now sometimes, when she let herself worry about the fact that she was changing. He never seemed to change, he only seemed to get better as he got older. But she felt different now; she worried more than she had before, about him, about the kids, about her career. She worried about becoming obsolete, about her ratings having dropped just a bit in the last year, and about Samantha leaving for college. What if she went East after all, or decided to live in the dorms if she went to UCLA? What would she do when they were truly all gone? What if they didn't need her anymore ‘ or she lost the show? What would happen to her when it was all over? What if things should ever change with Simon? But she knew that was foolish.

She tried to talk to Simon about it sometimes. Suddenly she had so many fears, about herself, her life, her body. It had just been in the past year or two, and she knew her looks had changed, no matter how many people told her they hadn't. She was getting older and it was painful sometimes realizing that she seemed to have altered more than Simon. It seemed amazing to her that it had all gone so fast, and she had reached fifty-four so quickly. And soon she would be fifty-five ‘ and then sixty. ‘ It made her want to shout Oh, my God, and Stop the clock ‘ wait ‘ I need more time. It seemed odd to her that Simon didn't understand that. Maybe because men had more time, their hormones didn't suddenly start changing at fifty, their looks altered more subtly, and they always had the option of a wife half their age, and half a dozen more children. Even if they didn't want them, which Simon always said when Blaire reminded him that he could still have children and she couldn't, even if he had no interest in them at all, he had the option, and that made things different between them. But when she tried to say all those things to him, he just told her she was overworked and she was being silly. For God's sake, Blaire, the last thing I want is more children. I love the ones we have, but if Sam doesn't grow up soon and get her own apartment one of these days to break the sound barrier in, I may go crazy. He said that, but Blaire knew he didn't want her to move out either. She was their baby. She wondered, though, why it was all so much easier for him, why he got less upset about things, why he didn't worry as much about Scott's grades, or the fact that Allegra was still with Brandon, after two years, and he was still married to another woman.

But none of that came up at the dinner table. They talked about other things. Simon and Scott talked about basketball, and Stanford, and a possible trip to China. And then they all talked about the Golden Globes, and Scott teased Sam about the last boy he'd seen her go out with. He said the kid was a real nerd, and Samantha defended him hotly, although she insisted she really didn't like him. And Blaire announced that their ratings had just gone up again, after a brief dip the month before, and she was planning to redo the garden and the kitchen next summer.

Is that supposed to be news? Simon teased, as a warm look passed between them. When haven't you been ripping something out and putting something else in? And anyway, I like the garden the way it is. Why change it?

I found a fabulous English gardener, and he says he can change everything in two months. The kitchen is another story, she grinned. I hope you all like Jack in the Box, we'll be eating all our meals there from May till September. There was a communal groan, and Simon looked at his only son with a meaningful expression.

I think that's just about the right length of time for our trip to China.

You're not going anywhere. She looked at him pointedly. We're shooting all summer this year, and I'm not going to be left alone again. Every year the two men took a trip together, usually to someplace where Blaire couldn't reach them if she tried, like Samoa, or Botswana. You can go to Acapulco for the weekend. Scott laughed at them, and the teasing and the arguments and the exchanges went on until after nine o'clock, when Allegra finally stood up and said she had to get home. She still had some work to do that evening.

You work too hard, her mother chided her, and Allegra smiled in answer.

And you don't? Her mother worked harder than anyone she knew. And Allegra respected her a great deal for it. I'll see you tomorrow night, at the awards, she said, as they all left the table.

Do you want to come with us? her mother asked, and she shook her head.

Alan's always late, and he's got ten million friends wherever we go. He'll probably want to go somewhere afterward. We'd better meet you there, or we'll drive you crazy.

You're going with Alan and not Brandon? Samantha asked her with a look of amazement, and her older sister nodded.

How come?

He had to go to San Francisco to see his kids, Allegra said matter-of-factly. She felt as though she had already explained it four thousand times, and she was getting tired of it.

Are you sure he's not sleeping with his ex-wife? Sam asked her bluntly, and for a minute she knocked the wind out of Allegra. Allegra was quick to respond once she caught her breath again, and she was furious at her younger sister for the question.

That's a really bitchy thing to say, and totally unnecessary. You ought to watch your mouth, Sam, Allegra said hotly.

Well, don't wet your pants over it, Sam said, looking all cat as the two sisters hissed at each other. Maybe I'm right, maybe that's why you got so pissed off when I said it.

Knock it off, Scott said to Sam, seeing how upset Allegra was. His sex life is none of our business.

Thanks, Allegra whispered to him later, as she kissed him good night, but she wondered herself why Sam's comment had upset her so much. Was that really what she thought? Was that what she was afraid of? Of course not. Joanie was dependent and whiny and overweight, and Brandon even said to her all the time how unattractive his ex-wife had gotten. That wasn't the point. It was just that it hurt so much to have to defend him. It was obvious that her whole family thought he should be there, and so did she. And secretly, she was furious that he wasn't.

She thought about it again all the way home that night, and by the time she got home she was angry at him all over again. She sat and stewed about it for a while, pretending to pore over her work, and then finally she decided to call him. She knew the number of the hotel where he stayed by heart, and she dialed it with trembling fingers. Maybe she could convince him to come back after all, but then she'd have to explain to Alan that he couldn't take her, and that could have been awkward, even though they were good enough friends that she could say anything to him, and if he was mad about it, he'd tell her.

They rang Brandon's room for her, and she waited interminably. It was after ten o'clock, but he didn't answer. She asked them to try again, just in case they'd gotten the wrong room, but he was clearly not in. He was probably still at the house, talking to Joanie about the divorce. After the girls went to bed, Brandon said, they argued for hours sometimes. But as she thought of it, Sam's words about his sleeping with Joanie popped into her head. And Allegra was furious all over again, at him for being there, and at her sister for having said it. She didn't need to spend her life worrying about him or feeling insecure because of something a teenager said. She had enough going on in her life without this bullshit. And almost as soon as she hung up, the telephone rang, and she smiled to herself. She was hysterical about nothing. It was probably Brandon, and he'd just gotten back to the hotel. But it wasn't. It was Carmen, and she was crying.

What's up?

I just got a death threat. She was sobbing, and she said she wanted to move back to Oregon. But hers wasn't a career that would easily disappear. She had movie contracts now, and the entire world wanted a piece of Carmen Connors.

Allegra frowned as she listened. How did you get it? Try to calm down and tell me.

It came in the mail. I forgot to open my mail today, and I just got home from dinner, so I opened it, and there it was. It says she dissolved in floods of tears again it says that I'm a bitch and I don't deserve to live another hour. This guy says he knows I'm cheating on him and I'm a whore, and he's going to get me.

Oh, God, Allegra thought to herself. Those were the ones you had to worry about. The ones who imagined they had a relationship, or a right, and had somehow been wronged. They were the real ones, but she didn't want to frighten Carmen any further. This doesn't sound like anyone you know, does it? Anyone you went out with, and who might be angry you don't want to go out with him again? It was at least worth the question, although she knew how circumspect Carmen was. Despite the tabloid stories, Carmen lived like the Virgin Mary.

I haven't had a date in eight months, she said unhappily, and the last two guys I went out with have both gotten married.

That's what I figured. Okay, let's calm down. Turn on the alarm, she said calmly, as though talking to a child.

I did.

Good. Call the security guard at the gate and tell him about the letter. I'll call the police and the FBI, and we'll meet with them tomorrow. There's not much point doing anything tonight, but I'll let them know. LAPD can put passing calls past your house every half hour. Why don't you take one of the dogs into the house with you tonight, just so you feel better?

I can't’ . I'm scared of them, Carmen said nervously, and Allegra laughed, which relieved the tension.

That's my point. They'd scare anyone. At least keep them loose on the property. You know, I think it's all probably bullshit anyway, but it doesn't do any harm to be careful.

Why do they do things like this? Carmen wailed. She had had threats before, and they terrified her, but no one had ever actually tried to harm her. It was just talk, and every celebrity Allegra knew of had had threats at some point or other. It just went with the territory, but it was never pleasant. Her own parents had had them too, and there had been a kidnapping threat against Sam when she was eleven. Her mother had hired a bodyguard for her for six months, and he drove everyone nuts, watching TV night and day, and spilling coffee all over the carpets. But if she had to, Allegra would hire one for Carmen. In fact, she wanted to hire one for her for the Golden Globes. There were two she particularly liked, and used fairly often, and one of them was a woman.

They're just stupid, Carmen. They want attention, and they think that if they try to get close enough to you, they'll get a little piece of the limelight. It's a sick way to do it, but try not to let it upset you too much. I'm going to try to get you a couple of people for tomorrow night, a woman and a man, it'll just look like you're with another couple, Allegra said reassuringly. She had handled a lot of these situations for other clients, and she was very soothing.

Maybe I just won't go, Carmen said nervously. What if somebody shoots me at the awards? She started to cry again and whimper about going back to Portland.

No one is going to shoot you at the awards ceremony. Come on, you can come with us. Who's your date?

Some guy named Michael Guiness. The studio paired me off with him. I've never even met him. She sounded disgusted, but Allegra was quick to encourage her.

I have. He's okay. He was gay, and very presentable, and one of their up-and-coming young actors, and they probably thought that being with Carmen Connors would be good for his image. The fact that he was gay was a fairly well kept secret. I'll take care of everything. You just relax and try to get some sleep. She knew that Carmen sat up all night sometimes, watching old movies on TV, because she was scared, or lonely.

Who are you going with? Carmen asked casually, assuming it was Brandon. She had met him once or twice, and she thought he was respectable, but boring. She was surprised at Allegra's answer.

I'm going with an old buddy from school, Alan Carr, Allegra said offhandedly. She was making notes to herself about calling the police and the FBI in the morning.

Oh, my God! Carmen said, sounding dumbstruck. The Alan Carr? Are you kidding? You went to school with him}

The one and only, Allegra said, amused at her reaction. It happened often.

I've seen all his movies.

So have I, and believe me, some of them are rotten. Some of them were great though, and she knew it. I keep telling him he needs a new agent, but Alan is very stubborn.

Oh, my God, he's gorgeous.

Better than that, he's a nice guy. You'll like him. She wondered if Alan would like Carmen. Maybe they'd hit it off at the awards, which would be kind of fun for all of them. We'll go out for a drink or something afterward, and we'll drive you and Michael to the awards if you like.

I'd love that. She was sounding a whole lot happier by the time they hung up, and Allegra sat and stared out the window for a while, thinking about how odd life was. The biggest sex symbol in America hadn't had a date in eight months, and was getting death threats from lunatics who thought they owned her. There was something very wrong with that, to say the least. And here Carmen was impressed that Allegra knew Alan Carr. It really was all a little topsy-turvy.

When she finished talking to Carmen, she looked at her watch. They had talked for more than an hour. It was close to midnight, and Allegra was almost afraid to call Brandon again by then, but she decided to anyway. He had probably returned her call when she was on the phone with Carmen. But when she dialed the hotel again, he was still out, and she left him another message, this time asking him to call her.

She went to bed at one o'clock, and she still hadn't heard from Brandon, but she didn't want to try again. She was beginning to feel foolish, and she did everything she could to put Sam's words out of her mind. She didn't know what Brandon was doing, though she was certain he was not sleeping with Joanie. But she couldn't imagine what he was doing at that hour in San Francisco. It was a sleepy little town, and from what she'd seen of it, they rolled up the sidewalks at nine or ten o'clock. He certainly wasn't in a nightclub. He was probably just arguing with her about the house or the condo near Tahoe. Sam had had no right to say things like that about him. She was still furious when she thought about it. Why was everyone always so disagreeable about him? And why did she always have to stick up for him and answer people's questions about his behavior?

The phone never rang and she finally drifted off to sleep about two o'clock in the morning. But it did ring at four, and she leapt to her feet with her heart pounding, thinking it was him. But it was Carmen. She had heard a noise, and she was terrified. She was whispering into the phone, and she was so scared she hardly made sense. It took nearly an hour to calm her down again, and Allegra wondered if she should just go over there. But Carmen insisted she was okay by then. It was five A.M., and she was embarrassed to have called, but Allegra reassured her that it wasn't a problem.

Get some sleep or you'll look like hell tonight at the awards, and you're probably going to win, so you'd better look good. Now go back to bed, Allegra said, sounding like a big sister.

Okay. Carmen laughed, feeling like a little kid. And five minutes after she turned off the light, Allegra was asleep. She was exhausted. She didn't stir until eight o'clock in the morning, when Brandon called and woke her.

Were you up? Brandon asked, as she tried to sound as though she'd been awake, and then groaned when she saw the clock. She'd had less than five hours sleep all night, and she felt it.

Several times, actually, she said, regaining her composure. Carmen had a little problem.

Oh, for chrissake, I don't know why you put up with that nonsense. You ought to get an answering service, or just turn your phone off. It wasn't the way she was made, or the nature of her business, but he had never understood that.

It's all right. I'm used to it. She had a death threat, and as she glanced at the clock again at eight oh five, she remembered that she had to call the police and the FBI to report it. She was going to have a busy morning. Where were you last night? Allegra tried to keep a tone of accusation out of her voice, and not to remember Sam's words of warning as she asked him.

Out with some friends. What was the big deal? How come you called me twice?

Nothing, she said, feeling immediately defensive. I just wanted to check in and say hi. I thought you were seeing the kids last night. If he wasn't, why did he have to leave for San Francisco on Friday?

I was, but the flight got in late, and Joanie said they'd had a long day, so I called a couple of guys I used to work with. We hit the bars and just got to talking. Sometimes she forgot that he used to live there. I thought maybe something was wrong when I got in and saw you'd called, but I figured you'd be asleep by then. I guess I could just act like your clients and call anytime, day or night. He strongly disapproved of the calls she got late at night, but most of her clients only did that when they felt they really had to.

It sounds like you're having a good time, she said, trying not to sound as angry or disappointed as she was.

It's okay. Sometimes it's fun being back here. Last night was a kick with the guys. I haven't done the bar scene here in ages. It didn't appeal to her, but it was probably amusing for him to catch up with his friends. He worked so hard, he didn't do things like that very often. I'm picking the girls up at nine. I promised them we'd go to Sausalito and maybe Stinson for the day. It's too bad you couldn't be here, he said, sounding warmer again.

I'm going to have to see the police for Carmen this morning, and probably the FBI, since the letter came in the mail, and then I've got the awards tonight.

That ought to be entertaining, he said, sounding completely disengaged, as though it had never been part of the plan for him to be there. How was dinner last night?

Okay. The usual. The Steinbergs at their best and worst. Scott came home, so that was nice. Sam is getting a little big for her britches, these days. I guess it's the age, but I can't say I'm crazy about it.

That's because your mother lets her do anything she wants. If you ask me, that's the surest way to wind up with a spoiled brat, and she's getting a little old for that. I'm surprised your father doesn't put his foot down. She thought that Brandon was being a little harsh, and although she didn't completely disagree with him, she was nonetheless surprised that he was so willing to criticize her siblings. She was always especially careful not to say anything less than nattering about his children.

My father worships her. And she's been doing more modeling lately too. That probably gives her a fat head, and makes her think she can say anything she wants. She was still thinking about Sam's comments the night before, and now she was doubly annoyed at Sam for making her worry for nothing. It was interesting, though, that she had actually gotten to her, but Allegra knew it was only because she was so unhappy about his going to San Francisco for the weekend.

She'll get into trouble with her modeling one of these days. One of the photographers will come on to her, or they'll offer her drugs. I think that whole scene is unhealthy for her. I'm surprised your parents are willing to let her do it. To Brandon, it was all about the evils of show business, in all its forms and variations. It was something he emphatically disapproved of. And he frequently said that he would never let his girls model, or act, or do anything that involved putting them in the public eye. He always made it clear to Allegra that he thought their business was seamy and very unappealing, in spite of the fact that her parents had done extremely well at it, and she obviously enjoyed it.

You could be right, she said diplomatically, wondering if they were just too different, or if it was because he was away, and she felt as though he had let her down. Sometimes it was hard to know, even after two years, if this was the right choice for her. Most of the time, she thought he was right for her, and then occasionally, like now, she felt as though they were strangers.

I'd better go pick up the girls, he said, and then pacified her with, I'll call you tonight.

I'll be at the Golden Globes, she reminded him gently.

That's right. I forgot, he said, and the way he said it made her want to hit him. I'll call you tomorrow morning.

Thanks. And then, hating herself for it, she added, I'm sorry you won't be there.

You'll have fun anyway. I guess Alan Carr is a better date for that kind of thing than I am. At least he knows who he's talking to. I don't. Just make sure he behaves, and tell him you're my girl, Allie. No funny stuff, he said, and she smiled, faintly mollified again. He meant well, and he loved her, he just didn't get how important the awards ceremonies were to her. They were her life, they were important to her family, and to her business.

I'll miss you. And just for the record, I'd rather be going with you than Alan.

I'll try to make it next year, baby, I promise. He even sounded as though he meant it.

All right, she said, wishing he were there in bed with her. At least that was one area where she never felt the differences, but only the similarities, between them. Sexually, they got on extremely well. And eventually, the rest would probably smooth out too. Divorces were never easy. Have a nice time with the girls, sweetheart. And tell them I miss them.

I will. Talk to you tomorrow. I'll look for you on the news tonight. But she laughed at him. She'd be the last person he'd see. She wasn't a nominee, or a presenter, she was just one of the insignificant masses as far as the news cameras were concerned, unless they caught a glimpse of her as one of her parents won, or maybe Carmen. But they narrowed in pretty tight for the shots of the winners. The only thing that might attract attention to her was being Alan Carr's date, but as a relative unknown, she doubted if even that would get her on camera. She seriously doubted that Brandon would see her.

They hung up after that, and she felt better after talking to him. Sometimes he just didn't understand her milieu, and he'd been slow at sorting his life out, but he was a great guy, and she was always having to explain to everyone that she really loved him. It was a shame they didn't see his virtues as clearly as she did.

She got up and put a pot of coffee on, and then she called the police, the FBI, the security firm that covered Carmen's house, and eventually she met with all of them at Carmen's, and Allegra was satisfied that everything possible was being done to protect her. She had contacted both of her favorite bodyguards, Bill Frank and Gayle Watels, who had retired from the LAPD SWAT team, and fortunately both of them were free and had agreed to work with Carmen for a while. They were going to the awards ceremony with her that night, and Carmen was relieved to know she'd be so well protected. Allegra had sent Gayle to Fred Hayman for a dress, which was no easy task, since it had to conceal her holster, and all of her weapons. But the ladies at Fred Hayman were used to unusual assignments.

Allegra managed to get home at four-fifteen, while the hairdresser and makeup artist worked with Carmen, and she barely had time to shower and do her own hair, and slip into the long, slinky black dress she had bought to wear for the occasion. It was quiet and discreet, but beautifully cut and very striking. It had been designed by Ferre, and had a fabulous white organdy coat covering it, and she wore the pearl and diamond earrings her father had bought her for her twenty-fifth birthday. Her long, silky blond hair was piled high on her head, in gently cascading rolls and curls, and she looked sexy and sensuous when Alan Carr arrived, looking breathtaking in a new Armani tuxedo. He was wearing a white silk shirt with a narrow collar and no tie, and his dark hair was slicked back. He looked even better than he had in his last half dozen pictures.

Wow! he said, before she could say the same. She had a slit in her dress all the way up one leg that revealed a pair of black lacy stockings, and she was wearing high-heeled black satin sandals. Am I supposed to behave myself with you looking like that? he asked, pretending to be incredulous, and she laughed as she kissed him. He could smell her perfume on her neck and in her hair, and as he had before, he asked himself why he had never tried to rekindle their old flame in recent years. He was beginning to think their time had come again, and to hell with Brandon Edwards.

Thank you, sir. You look very handsome yourself, she said, admiring him with genuine affection. You really do look good, you know.

You're not supposed to look so surprised, he said, chuckling. It's not polite.

I just forget how good-looking you are sometimes. I kind of think of you the way I do Scott you know, just a big kid, in ripped jeans and dirty sneakers.

You're breaking my heart. Just shut up. I love the way you look, he said admiringly, his voice suddenly soft, his eyes filled with something she hadn't seen since they were fourteen, and she knew she wasn't ready to see again. She just pretended not to notice. Shall we go? he asked, as she picked up a small black evening bag with a pearl-and-rhinestone clasp. Everything about the way she looked was perfect. And they made a staggeringly handsome couple. She also knew that being with him meant that they would be constantly hounded by the press. They would want to know who she was, and whether or not to start a flood of new rumors about his love life.

I told Carmen we'd pick her up, Allegra explained to him as they left and walked out to the waiting limo. It was a stretch, and she had no doubt they'd all fit. Alan leased it, with the driver, on a yearly basis. It was part of his current contract. Is that all right?

I guess. I'm not nominated tonight, so I'm in no hurry to get there. Hell, maybe you and I should just take off and go somewhere else. You look too good to waste on all those clods, and all those assholes from the tabloids.

Now, now, be a good boy, she scolded him, and he kissed her neck, but it was only playful.

See how well behaved I am, never mess a girl's hair. I've been trained by experts. He looked extremely handsome as he handed her into the car, and she smiled as he slid in beside her.

You know, half the women in America would give their right arms, and their left, to be sitting here next to you. I really am a lucky girl, aren't I? She grinned and he laughed, and had the grace to look embarrassed.

Don't be a jerk, Al. I'm a lucky guy. You really look great tonight.

Wait till you meet Carmen. She's absolutely drop-dead gorgeous.

She can't hold a candle to you, my friend, he said gallantly, but they both looked stunned when they reached her house and Carmen stepped into the driveway. She was flanked on either side by the bodyguards Allegra had hired for her. Bill looked like a wall in a tuxedo, and Gayle looked deceptively demure in a very good-looking bronze sequined dress that set off her coppery hair and her figure, and the matching jacket completely concealed both guns she was wearing, a Walther PPK .380 and a Derringer .38 Special. But it was Carmen who took their breath away and literally shocked Alan into silence. She was wearing a skintight red peau de soie dress with a high neck, long sleeves, and it showed off every inch of her flawless figure. Like Allegra's, it had a high slit, which showed off her legendary legs, and when she turned, there appeared to be almost no back to the dress, and you could see her creamy skin all the way to her shapely bottom. Her silvery-blond hair was pulled straight back into an elegant bun, and she not only looked incredibly sexy, but she also managed to look somewhat distinguished. She looked like a very sexy version of a very young Grace Kelly.

Wow! Allegra said for both of them. You look fabulous.

Do you like it? Carmen looked like a kid as she grinned at them, and she was mortified when she blushed as Allegra introduced her to Alan. I'm really honored to meet you, she said, almost choking on her words, and he shook her hand and assured her that he had always wanted to meet her too. He said that Allegra had said nothing but nice things about her, and Carmen smiled up at her attorney with gratitude and pleasure. I guess she lied to you then. I'm a big pain in the neck sometimes, she grinned and they all laughed.

It's the nature of the business, Alan excused her easily as the two bodyguards took the seats facing them, on either side of the television set and the bar. Allegra nicked on the TV as they drove away, so they could see who was arriving at the awards, and just before they arrived, she saw her parents. Her mother was wearing a dark green velvet dress and she looked very pretty as the Steinbergs smiled at the reporters. The announcer explained who they were to the viewers at home, just as the limousine stopped at Michael Guiness's apartment. He was waiting for them and he hurried out, greeted everyone, and jumped into the front seat next to the driver. He and Alan had worked on a picture once, and Allegra introduced him to Carmen and her bodyguards, as they took off toward the Hilton.

I've never been to the Golden Globes before, Michael said, excited to be going with them. He was scarcely older than Carmen, but less sophisticated, and a lot less of a name than she was. In some ways, Allegra thought to herself, Carmen should have been Alan's date. But that would have been a story the tabloids would go wild with.

As they approached the Hilton, they got into the long line of limousines, waiting to disgorge their glittering passengers, like little bits of sparkling bait set out to excite the sharks patrolling the waters. Hundreds of reporters were lined up four or five deep, holding cameras, and extending microphones and tape recorders, trying to get just a moment, a glimpse, a word, with an important person. And inside, the crowds were even worse, there reporters and cameramen had been allowed to set up small areas in which to interview the nominees or any publicity hungry actor or actress who would give them a few minutes. And beyond them were lines of fans, banked against the walls, until the enormous lobby shrank to a tiny trail allowing people to trickle through to the grand ballroom. And once inside, there was every major and minor television and movie star anyone had ever seen, read or heard about. It was an extraordinary group, and even among the fans outside, there was an atmosphere of wild anticipation. As each limousine drew up, and a new face appeared, fans screamed their names or cheered, and dozens of reporters lunged forward in the light of a hundred flashing cameras.

Just watching it seemed to terrify Carmen Connors. She had been to the Golden Globes the year before, but this year, as one of the nominees, she knew that the press would be even more anxious to devour her. And having had a death threat only the night before, she was even more unnerved by the attention and the crowds and the cameras.

Are you okay? Allegra asked her, looking motherly.

I'm fine, she said in barely more than a whisper.

Let Bill and me get out first, Gayle explained, then Michael, and then you. We'll be between you and the cameras at first, she said calmly, exuding a sense of protection just in the way she said it.

We'll bring up the rear, Allegra reassured her, but she also knew that the attention on Alan would be extreme. It might deflect some of the attention from Carmen, but it would attract more reporters to them too. There was simply no way of avoiding the press here. There were hundreds of people waiting for them, possibly as many as a thousand. We're right here, Carmen. You just have to get inside the hall. After that you'll be fine. There were plenty of other stars there to distract them, Allegra reminded her gently.

You'll get used to it, kid, Alan said, gently touching Carmen's arm. There was a sweetness to her that he liked, and a vulnerability he hadn't seen in years, but that had great appeal to him. Most of the actresses he knew were pretty hardened.

I don't think I'll ever get used to it, Carmen said softly, looking up at him with big gentle blue eyes, and he almost wanted to put his arms around her, except that he knew he'd have shocked her.

You'll be okay, Alan said calmly. Nothing's going to happen to you. I get those threats all the time. They're just nuts. They never follow through. He said it with complete confidence, which was not exactly what the FBI had said that afternoon. They said most of the threats that were acted on were usually preceded by some kind of explanation, like the one she'd gotten in the mail: the belief that she was cheating on this man, and that she owed something to him, although she was sure that she didn't even know him. They agreed with Alan that most threats were simply a weak cry from confused, ineffective people, but there was always the rare one who did what he promised to, and caused a real disaster. The police and the FBI had both recommended that she be careful for a while, and try to stay away from advertised or expected appearances, or highly public places. Tonight's appearance was exactly what she shouldn't do, but on the other hand, going to the Golden Globe Awards was part of her business, and she knew that. She was trying to make the best of it, but Allegra could see that she was scared stiff, as Carmen reached unconsciously for Alan's hand and squeezed it, although she scarcely knew him. I'm right here, he said quietly, holding her arm, and helping her out to Bill and Gayle, her bodyguards, and Michael, waiting for her on the sidewalk. Alan never took his eyes off her, nor did Allegra. The effect was almost instantaneous as a hundred reporters lunged toward her and the crowd began screaming her name at the top of their voices. Allegra had never seen anything like it. It was almost like a wave that seized them, as they looked at her, and she and Alan both found themselves wondering when the last time was that Hollywood had produced a star with as much charisma as Carmen.

Poor kid, he said, feeling sorry for her. He knew what it was like. But somehow, he had never felt quite so overwhelmed as he could sense she did. He had been a little older than she was when his first major success hit, and as a man, they never pushed him quite as far or took quite as much advantage. Come on, he said, grabbing Allegra, but keeping his eye on Carmen, trying to dodge and weave and smile as she was oppressed by fans, reporters, and cameras. There were hundreds of them now, and even the line of limousines was blocked. Nobody could move until the mass of humanity settling around Carmen could be disbanded. Let's give her a hand, Alan said, and shoved his way through the crowd, where the bodyguards were struggling, the police had started to move in, and Michael Guiness was lost in the crowds and looking completely helpless. But within seconds Alan was at her side, with Allegra hanging on to him, and he put a firm arm around Carmen's shoulders. Hi, guys, he said knowingly, as though offering himself up just to give her a breather. And the moment they recognized him, the crowd went wild, screaming his name as well as Carmen's. Sure do’ . Sure am’ . We've got a winner here’ . That's right’ . Thanks so much ‘ happy to be here ‘ Miss Connors is going to be one of our winners tonight’ . He exchanged a constant banter with them, as he set his football shoulders into the crowd and continued to move forward. And seeing what he had done, Gayle and Bill were able to move ahead of them. Gayle came down on several arches with stiletto heels while feigning total innocence, and Bill applied elbows to ribs as they cleared a path for her to enter the building. It was slow going, but they were finally able to move, and Alan kept up the momentum, holding to both Allegra and Carmen, and in a moment they were inside, and there were fresh screams from the fans, and a new onslaught from the media as television cameras were pushed into their faces. For a moment, Carmen started to turn aside, but Alan held on to her tightly and kept talking to her, keeping her calm and urging her forward.

You're okay, he kept repeating to her. You're fine’ . Come on, now, smile for the cameras. The whole world is watching you tonight. She looked as though she were about to cry, and his grip on her only got firmer and tighter, and then with a last burst of energy, they exploded into the ballroom, free of the hangers-on at last. One of the ruffles on Allegra's coat had been slightly torn, and the slit in Carmen's dress had gotten noticeably higher. One fan had actually grabbed her leg, and another one had tried to take one of her earrings. It was a total free-for-all, and Carmen's eyes were filled with tears as they reached the ballroom. Don't you dare, Alan said quietly to her. If you let them see how terrified you are, they'll be worse every time they see you. You have to look as though this doesn't bother you at all. Pretend you love it.

I hate it, she said as two little tears spilled onto her cheeks, and he handed her his hankie.

I mean it, you have to be very strong when you face them. I learned that five years ago. If not, they'll tear your heart out, after they rip your clothes off.

Allegra was nodding at her, grateful that Alan had joined them. Maybe it had all worked out for the best. Brandon would have been no help at all if anything he'd have been irritated by the press and Michael still hadn't made it into the ballroom. He's right, you know. You've got to look like you can handle this with your eyes closed.

What if I can't? she said, still looking visibly shaken as she glanced gratefully up at Alan. She was still embarrassed to look at him. He was so handsome, and so famous. The truth was she was just as famous as he was, but in her heart of hearts, she didn't know that. It was part of what made her so appealing.

If you can't do this, Alan said quietly, then you don't belong here.

Maybe I don't, she said sadly, handing him back his handkerchief. She had only dabbed at her eyes, and there was the faintest trace of mascara on it.

America says you do belong here. Are you saying they're liars? he asked her pointedly, as a whole flock of people suddenly appeared who knew him.

He introduced them to everyone. Allegra knew most of them, and Bill and Gayle had moved a few feet away, knowing that the danger had diminished. Alan and Carmen were with their own kind now, other stars, and producers and directors. And a few minutes later, Allegra's parents joined them. Blaire kissed Alan and told him how happy she was to see him again, and how much she had liked his last movie, and Simon shook his head, silently wishing, as he always did, that Allegra would fall in love with him.

Alan was the kind of son-in-law every man dreamed of. He was handsome and intelligent, easygoing, and athletic. Simon and Alan had played golf and tennis several times, and while he and Allegra were in high school, Alan had literally lived in their kitchen. But he had been pretty busy in recent years, and Simon wasn't sure now if Alan was escorting Allegra or Carmen Connors to the Golden Globes. He seemed to be equally attentive to both of them, and Michael had finally arrived but found a clique of his friends, and he was standing a few feet away talking animatedly to them.

We haven't seen you in a long time, Simon complained to Alan in good-natured fashion. Don't be such a stranger.

I was in Australia for six months last year, making a picture in Kenya for eight months before that. And I just got back from Thailand. They keep me on the road most of the time in this insane business. Next month I'm off to Switzerland. It's kind of fun sometimes, you know what it's like. He looked knowingly at Simon. He had never worked for him, but like everyone else in Hollywood, he had always been extremely fond of Simon Steinberg. He was smart, he was fair, he was always a gentleman, and both in his dealings and his word, unfailingly honest. In many ways, he was a lot like Allegra, and those were the same qualities Alan loved about her. That, and the fact that she had great legs, and a figure that still made him want to think of her as something other than a sister. But he was extremely confused as he looked at her. At the beginning of the evening, he had started having romantic notions about her again, but the moment Carmen had appeared, he felt as though someone had thrown all his insides out the window. He didn't know if he was right side up or upside down, or what he was feeling for her. But all he knew was that he wanted to pick Carmen up in his arms, and run straight through the crowd with her until he reached a place where they could be alone for a long, long time, and he could get to know her. Despite all the feelings he'd had for Allegra for over fifteen years, he had never felt that way about her. Since she'd first stepped into the limousine, he couldn't take his eyes off Carmen Connors.

Allegra had noticed it too, and it made her smile at him. She knew that he'd been hit hard, and fast, and she wasn't even sure she minded.

I told you you'd like her, she said in a wheedling tone as they made their way to their table, and a dozen photographers snapped their picture. Carmen and Michael were just behind them, with Bill and Gayle bringing up the rear. Carmen was well sandwiched between them all, but the press was also being kept busy by other major stars, though none as devastatingly beautiful as she was.

Why is it that you remind me of Sam when you talk to me like that? he asked, sounding faintly annoyed, and not wanting to admit to her how taken he was with Carmen.

Are you calling me a brat, or just telling me I sound like I'm seventeen? she teased as another photographer, this one from Paris Match, took their picture.

I'm telling you that you're a pain in the ass, but I love you anyway, he grinned with the look that a million women would have died for.

You really are cute, you know, she said, wanting to give him a shove, but not daring to get out of hand there. I think Carmen thinks so too, to tell you the truth, she said, sounding like an omniscient older sister.

Maybe you should just stay out of this, he warned her, suddenly wanting to kiss her neck again, and feeling completely schizophrenic. It was ridiculous, he had known her and loved her, mostly as a brother, for fifteen years, and now suddenly he was having sexual feelings about her again, and at the same time he was wildly attracted to her incredibly beautiful blond-bombshell client. None of this was supposed to be happening, and he turned and ordered a Scotch on the rocks from a passing waiter. He needed a drink to clear his head, or maybe just to numb it. I don't want you saying anything to her, he warned Allegra as they found their table. It was a table for ten. She and Alan were sitting there, as were Carmen and Michael; a producer friend of her father's she had known for years, and his wife, who had been a very famous actress in the forties; a couple Allegra had never heard of before, which was rare; and Warren Beatty and Annette Bening. I mean that, Allegra, Alan said again. I don't want you mixing in, and trying to start something here.

Who said I was going to mix in? she said with the innocence of an angel as Carmen joined them. She was looking a little more at ease, and she looked up at Alan with huge blue eyes and a big grin as he sat down beside her. They talked for a few minutes, and then Allegra slipped away to see some friends. Several of the senior partners from the law firm were there, and almost all of their most important clients. Her parents had a table filled with their closest friends, most of them directors and producers, and the star of her father's latest picture. It was old home week for all of them, and Allegra was totally at ease as she floated through the crowd saying hello to people she knew well, and laughing here and there with an old friend, most of them either movie stars, writers, producers, or directors. There were also studio and network people heavily in evidence. It was an incredibly important evening.

You're looking great, Jack Nicholson commented as she skipped past, and she thanked him. He was one of her father's oldest friends, and she and Streisand exchanged a nod. She wasn't sure if Streisand knew who she was, but she certainly knew Allegra's mother, Blaire Scott. And Allegra was particularly pleased to stop and chat with Sherry Lansing. It was also somewhat reassuring to note that a lot of men were looking at her with open admiration. In some ways, Brandon was so restrained that it was rare to get this kind of reinforcement from him. Even among the stars, Allegra could hold her own. And in a way, that always surprised her.

What are you doing? Alan asked her when she got back. Cruising? Not when you're my date. That guy you go out with is really giving you bad habits. He pretended to be mad at her, but she knew he wasn't.

Oh, shut up and behave yourself, she said with a grin as she sat down, and a few minutes later they were served dinner. As soon as coffee was served, the lights went down, and they were on the air with the music, the show, the televised Golden Globe awards in all its glory. As it began, their hearts all began to beat a little faster. They skipped back and forth for a while between movies and TV, and began with some of the lesser awards, but even at the beginning of the evening a number of people she knew were honored.

People were quick to powder their noses and put on lipstick during the commercial breaks, and with each award the cameras would zoom in on the nominees, and make everyone even more nervous. Then, finally, it was her mother's turn. She had won the award for best comedy series for so many years that Allegra never doubted for a minute that she would win it this year. She and Alan exchanged a look of certainty, and she was sorry she wasn't closer to her parents' table so she could squeeze her mother's hand in anticipation. It seemed hard to believe that her mother would be really worried after all these years, but she said she always was, and as Allegra saw her mother's face on the monitor, she realized that she was as terrified as all the other nominees. She looked panicked, and then they called out the names, one by one. The music, and then the endless silence, as everyone waited. And then her name ‘ except that this year, for the first time after seven successive years of victory, it was not her mother's name they called out, but someone else's. Allegra was stunned, as she was sure her mother was. She just couldn't believe it. She looked at Alan and her eyes filled with tears, thinking of her, and the pain and disappointment she knew she must feel at that moment. They showed her mother's image on the monitor again, right after the winner's, and as the new winner made her way to the podium, Blaire was gracious and smiling, but Allegra could see that she was devastated. It was a reflection of what the audience had told them with their ratings.

I can't believe it, she whispered to Alan, feeling crushed, and wishing she could offer her mother some comfort. But they couldn't move around the room with the cameras rolling.

I can't believe it either, he whispered back. It's still one of the best shows on TV. I watch it whenever I'm home, and she knew he meant it.

But seven years of awards out of nine was a long time. It was time for someone else now. And that was exactly what Blaire Scott was afraid of. As she sat in her seat, she felt a stone sink from her heart to her stomach, and as she looked at Simon, he nodded and patted her hand, but she wasn't sure he really understood what she was feeling. He had won so many times, but his victories were always individual events. He didn't have a recurring show like hers, which had to maintain its standard of excellence time after time, week after week, season after season. In some ways, what she did was much harder. Then she reminded herself that Simon was also nominated, and she tried to remind herself not to be so selfish. But it was difficult anyway. She felt as though she was losing in a number of ways, even if no one else understood that.

I hope my mom is okay, Allegra said, worrying about her as the awards went on, and Alan shared her hope with her. She wished it were over now, but there were so many awards left to be given. It started to feel like it was taking forever. And then it was Carmen's turn. The names for the best film actress award were read, and the cameras zoomed in on each of them, and under the table Carmen was squeezing Alan's hand, and he was holding tightly to it, and hoping she'd win it. And then suddenly the explosion of her name, the cameras, the flashes, the applause as she stood up and looked down at him, and he beamed up at her as though he had lived his entire life for this moment. And at that very instant, Allegra knew, looking at them, that something had happened that night which neither of them really understood yet or were aware of. She didn't know how long it would take for them, but she sensed that something magical had occurred between them.

Alan was standing up, waiting for her, when Carmen returned, breathless and overwhelmed, laughing and crying and clutching her award, and he put his arms around her and kissed her, just as one of the photographers snapped their picture. Allegra was quick to tug at his sleeve, and he quickly sat down next to her.

You'd better watch out, she warned, and he knew she was right, but for a moment he just couldn't help it. Carmen was so excited, she could hardly sit there quietly, and Allegra was so happy and proud of her, it almost took away some of the disappointment of her mother not winning. In some ways, Carmen was like her kid sister. She had groomed her and helped her, and overseen her career for the past three years, almost since she'd joined the firm, and now Carmen had come up winners. And what's more, she deserved it.

There was another hour of awards after that, when people started wishing that they could go home, and everyone began to feel that they were spending the week there. And then, at last, the final awards. Best actor in a film, the counterpart to Carmen's award, which went to another of Allegra's firm's clients. Best film, best director, and finally best producer of a feature film. Best producer went to her father this year, as it had twice before at the Golden Globes. And he looked immensely pleased as he went to the podium and picked up his award, and thanked all the appropriate people, and his wife, Blaire, whom he said would always be number one to him. There were tears in her eyes as she smiled up at him, and he kissed her when he got back to the table.

And then, at the very last, there was the humanitarian award, which they did not give every year, but only when it was truly deserved by an outstanding human being in show business. They showed film clips from various films, and listed countless achievements across forty years, and by then everyone had figured out who it was, except for the recipient himself, who looked completely dazed as they called his name, and this time Blaire stood up to salute him, and cried as she kissed him and he walked to the podium. It was Simon Steinberg, her father.

My God ‘ I I don't know what to say to all of you, he said, looking deeply moved. For once, I'm completely speechless. If I have won this, and I certainly don't deserve it, it's because of all of you, and your kindness to me over the years, your decency, your hard work, the goals you've helped me achieve, and the extraordinary moments we've shared. I salute all of you, he said to the audience, with tears in his eyes, as Allegra felt hers roll down her cheeks and Alan put an arm around her shoulders. I thank you for all that you've meant to me, and done for me, and given me. You are the great human beings here, along with my wife, Blaire, my daughter Allegra, my two children at home, Scott and Sam, and all of you whom I've worked with, and I remain your humble servant. And with that he left the podium, and the entire audience in the grand ballroom of the Hilton Hotel gave him a standing ovation. He was truly the great man they said he was, and Allegra stood there and cried tears of pride and joy for her father.

It had been, in many ways, a wonderful evening, and as they all gathered up their things, Allegra told Alan that she wanted to go and see her mother. He told her he'd wait for her at the table with Carmen, and she found her mother in the midst of a group of friends and colleagues a few minutes later.

Allegra gave her a big hug, and told her she loved her. Are you okay? she asked in a whisper, and her mother nodded. Her eyes were still damp from the tears she had shed for Simon. It had been an important night for him, and she was happy for him, and proud enough of him to forget her own disappointment.

We'll just have to try harder next year, Blaire said, apparently undaunted, but Allegra saw something in her eyes that she didn't like, and as she left her and approached where her father stood, she noticed her mother glance nervously in his direction. He was speaking to Elizabeth Coleson, a director she knew he had worked with. She was English and very unusual, in that she was very young, and had already been made a Dame in England in recognition of her enormous talent. They were deep in conversation, and her father was laughing, and there was something infinitesimally intimate about the way they stood. It was nothing Allegra could put a finger on, but it was just a feeling she got as she watched them. And then, before she could pursue the thought at all, her father turned away from Elizabeth and saw her. He beckoned to her immediately, and introduced her as the only respectably employed person in their family, and Elizabeth Coleson laughed a deep, husky laugh as she shook Allegra's hand and told her how pleased she was to meet her. She was only five years older than Allegra, and she had the sexual quality that some English women had, seeming very alluring while remaining enticingly aloof, and making no visible effort to be sexy, but achieving it totally because they didn't pursue it. Looking at her, Allegra thought she exuded sex and talent. There was an I-just-got-out-of-bed quality about her that made you wonder if she was wearing anything at all under her rather plain, somewhat out-of-date navy blue evening gown. It was obvious even to Allegra that her father liked her.

They chatted for a few minutes, and she told her father how proud she was of him. He gave her a big hug and a kiss, but when she left them, Allegra still had a faintly uneasy feeling about Elizabeth Coleson. She went back to her own table then, and the next time she looked over at them, she could see that her mother had joined them. And Allegra sensed easily that it had been a difficult evening for her mother, though she would never have admitted it to anyone, even to her older daughter. She was desperately worried about her show anyway. After nine years, it was hard enough to keep it interesting and keep it going. They had lost some important advertisers recently, as a result of the ratings dip. And not winning an award could make the ratings drop even further.

But Allegra could see yet another kind of worry in her mother's eyes tonight, and she wondered if it had anything at all to do with Elizabeth Coleson, or if she was imagining it, and Blaire was just dismayed that her show hadn't won the award after all. It was hard to tell with her mother. Blaire Scott was a pro, and a consummate good sport. On the way out, at least a dozen reporters asked her how she felt about not winning. She expressed her excitement for the writer/producer who had won the award, and her admiration for that show, and as usual, she was completely gracious. She said how much her husband's awards meant to her, and what an exceptional human being he was, and that maybe it was time for some of the younger, and very talented, people to be recognized.

On their way out, Carmen was set upon by reporters again, even more so than on the way in, and the fans went wild when they saw her. They threw flowers at her, and reached for her, and a teddy bear almost hit her in the head as a woman threw it at her, screaming her name. But fortunately, Alan caught it.

Just like football, he grinned at Allegra. Much to his own surprise, he had actually enjoyed the evening. And he suggested to Allegra that they go to a fifties-style restaurant he knew for a hamburger, and they take Carmen and Michael with them.

It took them half an hour to get back into the car again, and by the time they did, they all felt as though they had been pawed and mauled and dragged around by ten thousand hands and twice as many reporters.

God, I think I want to be a bagger at Safeway when I grow up, Michael said from the front seat with an exhausted groan, and they all laughed. But when Alan suggested a hamburger to him he said he was wiped out, and was working on a film, and had an early studio call the next morning. He said that if they didn't mind, he wanted to go home, and Carmen said that was fine. She was happy to go out with Allegra and Alan.

They dropped him off first and then went to Ed Debevic's on La Cienega, and Carmen said she was only sorry she couldn't change into a T-shirt and blue jeans.

So am I, Alan said wickedly as the two women laughed. Actually, I'll bet you look incredible in jeans. How about coming to Malibu with me tomorrow so I can decide what I like you in better, red evening dress or blue jeans? You know, kind of like the Miss America Pageant ‘ hell, you could win the Miss Congeniality Award ‘ or the bathing suit competition’ . Carmen was laughing at him, and Allegra grinned as they slipped into a booth, and a few of the regulars watched them, as Carmen's two bodyguards slipped into their own booth. It was after midnight.

Alan ordered a double cheeseburger and a chocolate malt, which reminded Allegra of their youth, and she ordered a cup of coffee and a side of onion rings, which was all she wanted. And they all smiled at the waitress, done up in fifties housewife garb. She looked just like Ethel on I Love Lucy.

What about you, Miss Best Actress of the Year? Alan asked Carmen, and she giggled. He had a nice quality with her, part big brother and part romantic hero, and Allegra had to admit as she looked at him that he was everything most women wanted. She had just known him for too long to ever take him seriously, or be turned on by him. And all she wanted now anyway was Brandon.

I'll have apple pie a la mode and a strawberry milkshake, Carmen said, feeling wicked.

Now that we've all won our awards, to hell with calories, give me greasy food before I die, he said, and then gave Carmen a squeeze and a look of admiration. You were great tonight, by the way. You handled it a hell of a lot better than I could have at your age. All that star stuff is pretty goddamn scary. Only another person who lived with the same pressures and pains really understood it, although Allegra did because she lived so close to it.

Every time they come at me, photographers or fans, I just want to run back to Oregon, Carmen said with a sigh.

Tell me about it. Allegra rolled her eyes, and then looked at her more seriously. Alan's right, you were terrific. I was very proud of you.

Me too, Alan said softly. For a minute there, I was afraid they'd trample you on the way in. The press and the media sure get out of hand, don't they? But the bodyguards Allegra had hired had done a good job, she thought, as she glanced over at them at their separate table.

The press scares me to death, Carmen confessed, not that anyone was surprised to hear it. And then Alan asked Allegra how her mom had been when she went over to see her.

Upset, I think, not that she'd ever admit it. She's too proud to ever let anyone know she was hurting. And she probably had mixed emotions. I know she was happy for my dad. But she's been pretty worried about her show and this won't help it. When I went over to talk to her, she was telling my father how great he is, and he looked very excited. I think the humanitarian award really meant a lot to him. More so even than the one for his picture.

He really deserves it, Alan said, and Carmen looked longingly at Allegra.

I sure would like to be in one of his pictures.

I'll say something to him, she said. He was probably interested in her too. She was a big name at the box office, and she had a rapidly growing talent. But Allegra didn't say anything to either of them about Elizabeth Coleson. It was the first time she had ever seen her father look quite that way at anyone other than her mother, but it was probably just professional admiration, and the look she had seen in her mother's eyes was probably just raw emotion after a very exciting night, full of roller-coaster rides of pride and disappointment.

They left Ed Debevic's at two o'clock, after talking about what it had been like to go to Beverly Hills High School, and what Carmen's childhood had been like in Portland. Hers sounded a lot more normal to them than theirs had been, and it made it even harder for her to adjust to the insanity of her life now with tabloids and paparazzi, and awards, and death threats.

Just an ordinary life we all lead, Alan said with a look of amusement as they got back into the limousine, and he pulled Carmen onto his lap, and she made no attempt to escape him.

Would you two like me to take a cab? Allegra teased. It had become even more obvious in the last two hours that they were both extremely attracted to each other.

How about the trunk? Alan asked, and Allegra got into the car and gave him a shove, as Carmen laughed at both of them. In some ways, she envied them their long-standing friendship. She had no friends like that in Hollywood, no friends there at all in fact, except for Allegra. The only people she knew were the people she had worked with, and she never saw them after she finished a picture. They just moved on, and so did she, and one of the things she disliked most about her life in L.A. was how lonely she was, and how seldom she went out, except for evenings like this one, with a studio-appointed date, who was as bored as she was. And she said as much to both of them on the way home, as Alan looked at her in amazement.

You know, half the guys in America would probably give their lives for a date with you. And nobody in the country would believe that you sit home and watch TV every night, he said, but he believed her. His own romantic life was less exciting than most people thought it was, except for the occasional sensational brief affair, which always wound up in the tabloids. Well, we'll have to see about that, Alan said matter-of-factly. She had already agreed to go to his house in Malibu with him the next day, and now he was talking to her about going bowling.

Allegra asked to be dropped off first, and she kissed them both good night, and congratulated Carmen again, and then she let herself into the house, and was surprised to realize how tired she was as she slipped off her high-heeled sandals. It had been an exhausting evening.

Alan and Carmen seemed to be well on their way to a new romance. She was happy for them, and it made her think of Brandon again, as she walked into her kitchen and listened to the messages on her machine. He wasn't supposed to call, but there was always the chance that he had anyway, or had called just to tell her he loved her.

Three of her friends and one of her associates had left messages for her, none of them urgent or even important. And then, finally, there was a message from Brandon. He had just called to say that he'd had a great time with the girls, and would talk to her on Sunday. He never mentioned the awards, hadn't watched them on television, didn't know or say anything about Carmen or her father. And it suddenly made her feel lonely again, listening to him. It was as though he was never really a part of her life, except when he chose to be, and even then only to the extent that he dared enter into it, which was never very far, or very deep. He was always a tourist. And no matter how much she felt for him, or how long their relationship went on, there was always a carefully maintained distance between them.

She nipped off the machine, and walked slowly into her bedroom, taking the pins out of her hair. It cascaded down her back, and she wasn't sure why, but there were tears in her eyes as she unzipped her dress and dropped it over the back of a chair. She was twenty-nine years old, and she wasn't even sure that any man had ever really loved her. It was an odd feeling of solitude as she stood naked in front of the mirrors in her dressing room, wondering if Brandon loved her, if he was even capable of pushing beyond the boundaries he set for himself, and being there for her, just the way she instinctively sensed that Alan wanted to be there for Carmen. It was as simple as that, Alan and Carmen had known each other for one night, and he was reaching out to her, without fear or even hesitation. And here was Brandon, after two years, like a man on a ledge, afraid to take the leap, unable to retreat, and not even willing to hold a hand out to her for comfort. She was alone. It was one of those shocking realizations that make you tremble with the terror of it in the dark of night, until you almost screamed. She was entirely alone. And wherever he was at that precise moment, so was Brandon.

Chapter 4

The first call Allegra got on Sunday morning was from Brandon. He was going out to play tennis with the girls, and he wanted to be sure he caught Allegra before she left. He knew she was leaving for New York sometime that afternoon, and he didn't want to miss her.

How did all your little chickens do? he asked with interest, but it seemed odd to her that he hadn't bothered to watch the news. He could have at least done that, for her parents' sake, if not for Carmen's. But she didn't say anything to reproach him; she was just glad he had called her.

Carmen won best actress in a film, and my father won for best producer of a feature film. And they gave him a special humanitarian award too, which is a really big deal. It was terrific. My mom, unfortunately she sighed as she said it, remembering the look of worry and defeat in her mother's eyes didn't win anything, and I think it upset her pretty badly.

You've got to be a good sport in that business, if nothing else, he said glibly, and Allegra was suddenly angry at him. The fact that he hadn't been at the ceremony was bad enough, but she didn't like him being insensitive about her mother.

It's a little more complicated than that. It has to do with the life of a show, whether or not you win an award. She's been fighting for the show's survival for the last year, and this could lose them important sponsors.

That's too bad, he said, but he didn't sound particularly sympathetic. Tell your dad I said congratulations.

I will, she said, and then he went on to tell her about the day he had spent with his daughters. And the way he changed the subject started to bother her. Seeing the way Alan had treated Carmen the night before, and even the way he had treated her, had reminded her of how sensitive some men were, how solicitous and protective. Not all men were as backed-off, or as purposefully independent as Brandon. He was totally self-sufficient, and he expected her to be equally so. He didn't want her making any demands on him. They were like two parallel ships floating side by side, but with considerable distance between them, in one ocean. But the loneliness she'd felt the night before engulfed her again as she listened to him. More and more lately, she was feeling anxious about their relationship, and abandoned whenever he wasn't there for her. She had always wanted a relationship like the one her parents shared, but she was beginning to wonder if she was even suited to it, or if she was just continuing to pick men who were unwilling to commit, as Dr. Green had suggested.

What time are you leaving for New York? he asked conversationally. She was going to meet a very important bestselling author. His agent had asked her to represent him for a film deal, and she had set up a number of other meetings in New York as well. She was going to have a very busy week, and expected to be involved in some serious negotiations.

I'm taking a four o'clock flight, she said, sounding sad, but he didn't seem to notice. She still had to pack, and she wanted to drop by and see her mother, if she had time, or at least call just to make sure she was all right after the night before. And she thought she should check on Carmen. I'll be at the Regency in New York.

I'll call you.

Good luck with your trial.

I wish I could get him to make a deal, it would go a lot better for him with the prosecutor if he would. But he's very stubborn, he said about his client.

Maybe he will at the eleventh hour, Allegra said hopefully.

I doubt it, and I've done all the groundwork by now. As usual, he was wrapped up in his own world, his own life, and Allegra felt as though she had to fight for his attention. I'll see you next weekend, he said, sounding regretful suddenly. I'm going to miss you. He sounded surprised, and she smiled at the phone. Those were the little hooks that kept her attached to him, ever hopeful. He was capable of loving her, he just didn't have much time, and he was so traumatized by his ex-wife. That was always the excuse. Trauma caused by Joanie. Allegra had explained it to everyone a thousand times. And there were instances when it was so obvious to her, and equally obvious to her that he loved her.

I miss you now, she said, her feelings raw, and there was a long beat of silence.

I couldn't help it, Allie. I had to come here this weekend.

I know. But I missed you last night. That was important to me.

I told you. I'll be there next year. He said it as though he meant it, and she smiled finally.

I'll hold you to that. But where would they be next year? Would he be divorced? Would they be married by then? Would he have overcome his fear of commitment? They were questions that still had no answers.

I'll call you tomorrow night, he promised again, and just before they hung up, he reached out and touched her heart. I love you, Al, he said softly.

I love you too, she said, squeezing her eyes shut. He was there for her, he just had his own fears and obligations to contend with. She understood that. Take care of yourself this week.

I will. You too, he said, sounding as though he was really going to miss her. It made her smile wistfully as she hung up. What they had wasn't easily acquired, but they were getting there, despite what other people thought. She just had to be patient. He was worth it.

She called her parents after that, congratulated her father again, and extended Brandon's congratulations. And then she asked to talk to her mom, and she could still hear the edge of sadness in her voice when she answered.

Are you okay? Allegra asked sympathetically, and Blaire smiled, touched that she had called her.

Oh, no, I'm going to slash my wrists this afternoon, or maybe I'll just stick my head in the oven.

You'd better hurry up, Allegra said with a grin, pleased to hear her joking about it, before they rip out the kitchen. Seriously, Mom, you deserved that award again this year, and you know it.

Maybe not, dear. Maybe it's time to give someone else a turn. We had an awful lot of trouble with the show this fall. One of the stars had quit, tired of it after nine years, and several of the others had asked for enormous raises when they renewed their contracts. Some of the other writers had left too, and as usual, all of the burden of the changes had wound up on Blaire's shoulders. Maybe I'm just over the hill, she added, sounding humorous, but something about the way she said it worried Allegra. It was what she had seen in her mother's eyes the night before too, and it scared her. She wondered if her father was aware of it, and if it concerned him.

Don't be ridiculous, Mom. You've got another thirty or forty years of hits ahead of you, she said optimistically.

Oh, God forbid. Blaire groaned, just thinking of it. And then she laughed and sounded like her old self again. I think I'll shoot for another twenty and then hang it up for good.

I'll settle for that, Allegra said, feeling better about her again, and about Brandon. She was in a much better mood than she had been the day before, and she almost wished she didn't have to leave and go to New York without seeing him. She would have loved to have spent a night with him before leaving.

She told her mother about the trip to New York, and that she'd be back at the end of the week. She always let them know where she was going.

We'll see you when you get back, her mother said, and thanked her for calling. And after that, Allegra called Carmen. She was not yet hysterical, but she was panicking fairly quickly. The press had laid siege to her front gate, and she said there were hordes of them, waiting to pounce on her if she moved a foot out of her house. After winning her award the night before, she was a hot item. The guards Allegra had hired were there, but Carmen was afraid the press would storm the house if she opened the gate to go out. She was a prisoner in her own home, she hadn't been able to go anywhere since that morning.

Isn't there a back gate for deliveries? Allegra asked, and Carmen said there was, but there were photographers waiting there too, with television cameras from several of the networks.

Is Alan coming by? Allegra asked her pensively, trying to figure a way out for her without a major confrontation with the media.

We talked about going to Malibu last night, but he hasn't called, and I didn't want to bother him, Carmen said, sounding hesitant, but Allegra had an idea, and she was sure Alan wouldn't mind helping Carmen.

Do you have any wigs that don't look like you?

A funny black one I wore for Halloween last year.

Good. Hang on to it, you may need it. I'll call Alan.

And together they worked out a plan. He was going to come to the main gate, in an old truck he had and rarely drove, so no one would recognize it unless they ran the plates, and by that time they'd be gone. And Allegra suggested he wear a wig too. He had lots of them. She told him to drive to the back of the house and act like he was picking up the maid, and then just drive off again, and hopefully no one would figure out who he was, or that Carmen had left with him.

I can let her use the house in Malibu for a few days if she wants, till things settle down again, he offered helpfully, and Allegra thought Carmen might like that.

He said he'd pick her up at one o'clock, and Allegra called to tell her, and all of a sudden Carmen was shy and embarrassed about Alan picking her up. She said she didn't want to take advantage of Alan's kindness.

Go ahead, take advantage of him, Allegra teased. He'd love it.

He showed up on schedule at one, they reported to her afterward, wearing a blond wig that made him look like a hippie, and the Chevy truck was so old and dilapidated that no one paid any attention to it at all when he picked up the little Mexican maid with the short black hair, wearing a tank top and bell-bottom blue jeans. She was carrying two paper shopping bags for her days off, and they went back out the gate without anyone giving them a second glance or taking a single picture. It was the perfect escape, and they called Allegra from a gas station ten minutes later.

Well done, she congratulated them. Now have fun, you two. And don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone. She reminded Carmen that she'd be at the Regency in New York, and back in L.A. the following weekend, and before they hung up, she thanked Alan for taking care of Carmen.

It's not exactly a sacrifice, he said honestly to his old friend. I'd be lying to you if I said it was, he said gently. He was surprised by how much he liked her. He had no idea where it would go between them, but he loved the idea of taking care of her in Allegra's absence. They hadn't even brought her bodyguards. It was going to be just the two of them, at his beach house.

You won't get crazy, will you? While I'm gone, I mean. She's a nice girl. ‘ She's very religious, and she's a good kid. ‘ She's not like the rest of the girls we know. Allegra was groping for the right words, suddenly afraid that he was going to have a wild affair with her and drop her.

I understand that, Al. You don't need to spell it out for me. I know. I get it. I'll behave. I swear ‘ more or less, anyway. He was looking at Carmen longingly as she wandered around in her jeans and tank top just outside the phone booth. Look, Allie ‘ she's different, I know. ‘ I've never met anyone like her ‘ except maybe you, and that was a long time ago. She's kind of the way we were when we were young, honest, sincere, unspoiled, before we all got cynical and grown-up, and somewhat fucked-up by the people who didn't live up to our expectations. I'm not going to hurt her, Al. I promise you that. I think ‘ never mind’ . Just go to New York and mind your own business. And one of these days, when you get back, we'll have a talk about our lives, like the old days.

You got it. Take good care of her. It was like entrusting him with her younger sister, but she knew what a good man he was, and something in his voice and what he had said to her told her that he cared about her.

I love you, Allie. I wish you'd get someone who'd be good to you one of these days, instead of that jerk with the permanent ex-wife and the lifelong divorce. That's not going anywhere, Al, and you know it.

Go screw yourself, she said pleasantly, and he laughed.

Okay. I get it. So go to New York and get laid, at least, it might do you good.

You're disgusting. She was laughing at him, and a minute later they hung up, and he and Carmen took off their wigs and drove to Malibu. And when they got there, his house was quiet and sunny and peaceful, and completely deserted. She thought it was the prettiest place she'd ever seen, and he was happy to be there with her, and suddenly wished they could stay forever.

Allegra was on the way to the airport by then. She had called Bram Morrison before she left, and left him the name of her hotel in New York. He liked knowing where she was all the time. It was one of his quirks. The others could all reach her, if they had to, through the office.

She boarded the plane shortly after three o'clock, in business class, and she sat next to an attorney she knew from a rival law firm. Sometimes it was easy to let oneself believe that the world was full of lawyers. It certainly seemed to be, and it was odd to think, as she flew East, that at that moment Brandon was flying back to L.A. For the moment, at least, they certainly seemed to be going in different directions.

She read her papers for the movie deal the next day, made some notes, and even had time to read some journals. By the time they got to New York, it was just after midnight. She picked her bag off the carousel, and went outside to hail a cab, and she was surprised to find it was freezing cold. By one o'clock in the morning she was in her room at the hotel, and she was wide awake and wished she could call someone. It was only ten o'clock in L.A., but she knew Brandon wouldn't be home until eleven. So she took a shower, put on her nightgown, turned on the TV, and slipped between immaculate, crisp sheets. It was total luxury, and there was something fun and very grown-up about being in a fancy hotel in New York on business.

She wished she knew someone to call, or had friends to see. All she had planned to do in New York that week was meet the author she was seeing the next day, and then several other attorneys and agents. It was going to be a busy week, but she had nothing to do at night, except sit in the hotel and watch TV, or read her legal papers. And lying there, in the enormous bed, she felt like a kid, with a mischievous grin, eating the chocolates they had left at her bedside.

What are you laughing at? she asked the face she saw in the mirror when she went to brush her teeth. Who told you you were grown-up enough to stay in a place like this, and meet with one of the most important authors in the world? What if they figure out who you are, and you're really just a dumb kid? The idea that she had made it this far, and had so much responsibility, suddenly seemed funny to her, and she laughed again as she finished brushing her teeth, and went back to the enormous, luxurious bed, and ate the rest of the truffles.

Chapter 5

The alarm went off at eight o'clock the next day. It was barely light on a snowy January day in New York, and it was still five o'clock in the morning in California. Allegra turned over with a groan, and forgot where she was for a minute or two, and then she remembered the author she had to meet that morning. He was a much older man, and he was leery about anything to do with the movies. But his agent thought it would be a boost to his career at this point, since he was inevitably slowing down. And she had come to New York to help convince the author to let her pursue the deal, at the request of the agent. The agent himself was as illustrious as the people he represented, and having him ask her to come to New York to work on the deal was a feather in Allegra's cap. It was an important step toward her becoming a full partner in her law firm. But as she rolled over in bed, the prospect of meeting with either of them had very little appeal, no matter who they were or how important. It was a cold, snowy day, and she would have been happy to stay in bed all morning.

As she lay arguing with herself about getting up, her breakfast came, and with it The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. And by the time she was drinking coffee, and eating oatmeal and croissants with jam, and glancing at the newspapers, the prospect of a day in New York seemed almost exciting. The literary agency where she was going was on Madison Avenue, and the law firm where she had meetings later that afternoon was on Wall Street. And somewhere between the two were a thousand stores, at least as many art galleries, and a plethora of fascinating people. Sometimes just being in New York was a heady experience. There were so many people doing so many interesting things, a myriad of cultural events, opera, concerts, exhibitions of all kinds, theater. It made even Los Angeles seem provincial.

She wore a black suit and a heavy coat and boots to the meeting she had at ten o'clock that morning. She arrived by cab, holding on to her handbag and her briefcase, and by the time she got inside, she was sorry she hadn't worn a hat. Her face was tingling from the cold, and her ears were frozen.

The elevator stopped at the top floor, which the agency occupied in its entirety, and on the walls were an impressive collection of Chagall, Dufy, and Picasso, some pastels, one small oil, and a series of drawings. The agency was clearly doing well. And in the center of the room was a small Rodin sculpture.

Allegra was quickly ushered in to see the head of the agency, a small, round man with the faintest of German accents. His name was Andreas Weissman.

Miss Steinberg? He extended a hand, looking her over with interest. Her fine, blond, Anglo-Saxon looks couldn't help but catch his attention. He thought her very beautiful, and he was intrigued by her throughout their meeting, before the arrival of the author. And then finally, an hour later, he arrived, a man of perhaps some eighty years, but as sharp as anyone half his age. Jason Haverton was quick and witty and very shrewd, and Allegra suspected from looking at him that he had once been very good-looking, and even at his age he was still very attractive. They talked about the film industry generally for about an hour, and Jason Haverton very calmly asked her if by any chance she was related to Simon Steinberg. And when she admitted that she was, Haverton told her how much he admired his movies.

The two men invited her to lunch then at La Grenouille, and it was only when the main course came that they finally got down to business. Jason Haverton admitted to her that he had done everything possible to avoid this deal, and he had no interest whatsoever in having one of his books made into a movie. He thought it was prostitution at his age, but on the other hand he wrote less often than he had in the past, his readers were no longer young, and his agent felt strongly that selling a book for film was an ideal way to expand his audience again and appeal to younger readers.

I'm afraid I agree with him, Allegra said, smiling first at Haverton, then at Weissman. It doesn't have to be a bad experience for you, she went on, outlining several possible avenues to minimize the stress for him and make the deal more appealing. He liked what she had to say, and he was impressed with her. She was a smart girl, and a good lawyer. And by the time the chocolate souffl+¬ came they were fast friends, and he told her he wished he'd met her fifty years earlier. He'd had four wives, but he claimed to no longer have the energy to acquire a fifth one.

They're so much work, he said with a twinkle in his eye that made Allegra laugh, and she could easily see why he had been so successful with women. He was intelligent and amusing, and incredibly charming. Even at his advanced age, there was something totally appealing about him. He had lived in Paris in his youth, and his first wife had been French, the next two had been British apparently, and the last one American. And she, too, had been a famous author. She had passed away a decade before, and although he had been involved with several women since, none of them had succeeded in luring him to the altar. They take so much energy, my dear. Like fine racehorses, they're far too delicate, but so lovely to watch, and unbearably expensive. But they certainly do give one a great deal of pleasure. He smiled at her, and she could feel herself melt as she looked at him. He made her want to put her arms around him and hug him. But she suspected easily that if she had, he would have pounced on her with glee, like a cat on a mouse who had been overcome with trusting emotions for the feline. Jason Haverton was clearly no pussycat. He was still very much a lion, even at eighty. And a very attractive one. It amused Weissman to watch him pursue her. They were old and dear friends, and he couldn't disagree with Jason's opinion of her. She was an extraordinary girl, and he wouldn't have been at all surprised to hear that Jason had at least tried to woo her. But she seemed too smart for him, and although she wore no ring on her left hand, she managed to convey, from small things she said, the impression that she was taken.

Have you always lived in L.A.? Jason asked as they sipped their demitasse and played with the last of their souffl+¬s. It would surprise him if she had, there was something far more sophisticated about her, which suggested Europe to him, or the East of the United States at the very least. But she did, in fact, surprise him.

I've lived in L.A. all my life, except when I went to Yale.

Then you must have remarkable parents, he complimented her and them, and she smiled. He already knew who her father was and he thought, looking at her, that, spiritually in any case, Allegra was very much like him. Sensitive and sincere, direct and spare with words, but not with feelings.

My mother is a writer too, she explained. She wrote fiction when she was very young, but she's been writing for television for years. She has a very successful show. But I think she always secretly regrets that she never went on to write a novel.

They must be very talented, he said, far more interested in her than them, but still greatly intrigued by this beautiful young woman.

They are talented, she smiled. And so are you, she said, cautiously turning the conversation back to him, which pleased him most. Weissman watched her handle Haverton with both admiration and fascination. She was both wise and artful. And he said as much to her when the elderly author was finally picked up by his driver and taken home. He left, waving fondly at Allegra as though they were old friends, having agreed to most of the deal she had proposed to him. And the agent and attorney went back to Weissman's office in his limousine to discuss the fine points of the contract.

You're very good with him, he said, intrigued by her, and amused too. She was very young, but she was quick, and she had a natural instinct for people.

That's what I do for a living, she said without artifice. Handle people like him. Actors are like children most of the time.

So are authors. Andreas smiled at her; he liked her.

They spent the next two hours working out the deal, and what they both thought Jason Haverton should get. After they worked it out, Allegra said she'd call the movie company, and let him know their reaction. Hopefully they could finish the deal that week, possibly before she left New York on Friday. In the meantime, she had several other meetings scheduled on other matters, but she would be in touch with Andreas as soon as she heard something from California about Jason's movie.

How long will you be here? he asked her again.

Till Friday, unless I get everything done before that. But I think it might be a good idea for me to be here while we work this out. I'm sure we're going to be getting some answers on this deal by Wednesday, at the latest.

He nodded agreement with her, and then jotted down an address for her on a piece of paper from an Hermes scratch pad. Everything around him was of the finest quality. He was a man who liked the best of everything, even clients.

My wife and I are having a little party tonight. One of my clients has an important new book, we think it could win a literary prize. But in any case, it's a good excuse for a small reception. I doubt if Jason will be there, but several of our clients will, and you might enjoy it. He handed the paper to her with an address on Fifth Avenue, and his home phone number, and he told her to come anytime between six and nine o'clock that evening. They would love to have her.

That's very kind of you, she said. She'd enjoyed the time she spent with him that afternoon, and she liked the way he did business. He was sharp and precise, and beyond the polish and the European charm was a brilliant businessman who knew exactly what he was doing and stood for no nonsense. And Allegra liked that about him. She had always heard good things about him, and she had always had successful dealings with his clients.

Try and come, you might get a taste of New York literary life, which could amuse you.

She thanked him again, and left his office a few minutes later. It had been a surprisingly pleasant afternoon. When she got out on the street, the snow had already turned to slush, and she slid slowly to the curb and hailed a cab to take her back to her hotel to make the calls she had to make to California.

It was five o'clock by the time she'd made all her calls from her hotel room, to begin the negotiations for Haverton's film deal. And an hour later, after she'd made some notes, she still hadn't decided whether to order room service or go to the party at the Weissmans'. It was freezing cold outside and she had brought nothing to wear except business suits and two wool dresses, and the idea of going out in the cold again was extremely unappealing. But on the other hand, meeting some of the local literary types seemed almost worth going out into the cold for. She thought about it for another half hour, as she watched the news, and then she got up hurriedly and went to the closet. She had decided to go to the Weissmans' party. She put on her only black wool dress. It had a high neck and long sleeves, and it was very flattering as it hugged her figure. She put on high heels and brushed her hair, and appraised what she saw in the mirror. Compared to the New York sophisticates, she was afraid she'd look like a bumpkin. The only jewelry she had brought with her was a gold bracelet her mother had given her, and a pair of plain gold earrings. She swept her hair back into a neat French twist, and put on some lipstick, before putting on her heavy coat again. It was an old one she had worn while she was in law school, whenever she went to the theater, but at least it was warm, even if it wasn't pretty.

She went down to the lobby and the doorman got her a cab, and by seven-thirty she was at Eighty-second Street and Fifth Avenue, right across from the Metropolitan Museum. It was a handsome old apartment building with a doorman and two elevator men, several big, dark red velvet couches, and a Persian-looking rug that kept her high heels from echoing on the marble floor of the lobby. The doorman told her that Weissman was on fourteen, and half a dozen people stepped out of the elevator as she got in it. They all looked like they had just come from the Weissmans' party, and she wondered if she was too late. But Andreas had said up to nine o'clock, and as soon as she got upstairs, she followed the noise. It was still very loud, so at least she knew the party was still going. She rang the bell, and a butler answered. At first glance, she could see that there were well over a hundred people there, and she could hear a piano playing somewhere in the distance.

She stepped inside and gave up her coat, as she looked around at the hallway of the elegant duplex. But it was the people who caught her eye. They looked totally New York in cocktail dresses and dark gray suits, a few tweeds, and everyone seemed to have excited eyes and looked alive, and as though they had a thousand stories to tell about a million places they'd been to. This was definitely not laid-back California. And for once there were no famous faces she recognized. She knew that the faces she was looking at were probably just as well-known, but in a different world from Hollywood, and they were intriguing to her because she didn't know them. She realized that she probably knew most of their names, and then as she looked around she saw Tom Wolfe and Norman Mailer, Barbara Walters and Dan Rather and Joan Lunden, and an array of illustrious figures sprinkled in among publishers and editors, professors, and writers. And there was a small group who someone said were curators from the Metropolitan Museum. The head of Christie's was there, and a handful of important artists. It was the kind of gathering that never happened in L.A., because there wasn't the available variety of important eclectic figures. In Los Angeles it was all people involved in the industry, as it was called, as though they made automobiles instead of movies. But in New York it was everything from theatrical designers, to actors from off-off-Broadway, to the heads of department stores, and important jewelers, mixed in with editors and writers and playwrights. It was a fascinating mix, and Allegra watched them all as she took a glass of champagne from a passing tray and was relieved to see Andreas Weissman in the distance. She made her way toward him in the library as he stood in front of the view of Central Park, talking to his arch competitor in the literary world, Morton Janklow. They were talking about a mutual friend, who had been one of Weissman's clients, and had recently died. It was a great loss to the literary community, they agreed, just as Andreas spotted Allegra, and came to greet her. In her black dress, and her upswept hair, she looked more serious than she had that afternoon. She looked incredibly beautiful and young, as Andreas Weissman watched her. She had a lovely, graceful way as she moved slowly toward him, holding her glass of champagne. Everything about the way she moved was elegant and fluid, it made him think of the ballet, and Degas paintings. Jason Haverton was right, Andreas Weissman thought with a private smile. He had called late that afternoon to say again that she was not only a good lawyer, but he thought she was exquisite. He had loved having lunch with her, and told Andreas that if it had been only a few years before, things might have been different. He said it in a wistful way that made his agent smile, even now, as he extended a hand toward Allegra. She seemed to inspire fire in men's hearts, even in the depths of winter.

I'm so glad you could come, Allegra. He carefully put an arm around her shoulders and guided her across the room to where another knot of guests stood. There were more faces she recognized, an important gallery owner she'd read about, a famous model, and a young artist. It was an incredibly mixed group, and exactly what she loved about New York. It was why people in New York never wanted to leave and come West. New York was much too exciting. Andreas introduced her around the room and explained to everyone that she was an entertainment lawyer from L.A., and everyone seemed happy to meet her.

Andreas disappeared then, and left her with her new friends. An older woman challenged her, and said she moved like a dancer. Allegra admitted to having done eight years of ballet as a child, and someone else asked if she was an actress. Two very handsome young men said they worked with Lehman Brothers on Wall Street. Several more worked at a law firm where she'd interviewed while she was at Yale. And her head was spinning by the time she made her way upstairs to the upper floor to see the spectacular view of the park, and meet more guests, and then came back to the lower floor again at nine o'clock. The party was still going strong, and a fresh group that looked like businessmen had just arrived, accompanied by an equal number of well-dressed women. Some of them had on fur hats, and all of them had perfectly done hair. It was a different look from L.A., with its face-lifts and its youthful look and its blond hair; this was a darker look, a more interesting one, with less artifice and less makeup, but with expensive clothes, a smattering of jewels, and serious, intense faces. There were a handful of face-lifts too, and bodies so thin they looked like pencils, but for the most part these were people accomplishing things, and affecting the world just because they'd been there. Allegra was fascinated by them, and the things they were saying. They talked about interesting things, and they were in fact interesting people. It's quite something, isn't it? a voice said just behind her, and she turned to see a man watching her, just as she had been scrutinizing the others around the room. He was long and lean, with dark hair, and the aristocratic look of a true New Yorker. And he was wearing the right uniform, a white shirt, dark suit, and conservative Hermes tie in two shades of navy, but something about him didn't match the way he looked. She wasn't sure if it was his tan, the spark in his eye, or the broad smile. In some ways, he looked more California than New York, and yet he didn't fit that description either. She couldn't figure him out, but as he sized her up, he was mystified by her as well. She seemed to fit in, yet there was something about her that made him think she didn't belong here. He liked coming to the Weissmans' he always met the most fascinating people, from ballet dancers to literary agents to venture capitalists to conductors. It was fun just mingling with them, and trying to guess why they had come and who they were. He was doing that now, and getting nowhere. Allegra could have been anything from decorator to doctor. She was trying to guess what he did too, and she was debating between stockbroker and banker. And as she looked at him pensively, he smiled broadly.

I was just trying to figure out what you do, who you are, and where you come from, he confessed. I love playing that game here, and I always manage to guess wrong. You're probably a dancer, judging by the way you move and stand, but I guessed copywriter at Doyle Dane. How bad am I?

Pretty bad, she laughed, amused by his game, as he was pushed a little closer to her by the crowd. He looked as though he had a good sense of humor, and he seemed totally relaxed with her as he looked her straight in the eye. Maybe you're not too far off. I am in business, and I do a lot of writing. I'm an attorney, she said, returning his gaze, and he seemed surprised.

What kind of firm? He pressed on, enjoying their guessing game. He loved figuring out what people did, and in New York, there was such a rich assortment of jobs and people. There was never a simple answer to any question, least of all to what one did. He guessed silently again, and figured corporate law. I guess corporate, or probably something very serious like antitrust law. Am I right? It seemed incongruous to him because she was very feminine and very pretty, and he liked the combination of a beautiful woman involved in serious business.

She laughed in answer, and he loved watching her. She had a gorgeous smile, incredible hair, and there was an immediate warmth about her. He could tell she liked people, and there was something very intriguing about her eyes. They said a lot to him about who she was and what she thought about. She was a woman of principle, he could tell, and firm beliefs, and probably strong opinions. But she obviously had a sense of humor too. She laughed a lot, and there was something very gentle and feminine about the way she moved her hands. And her mouth looked delicious.

What makes you think I'm such a serious lawyer? she asked, laughing again. They didn't even know each other's names, but that seemed relatively unimportant. She liked talking to him, and playing his game about what she did, and who she was. Do I look that intense? she asked, curious as to how he would answer, and he considered her for a moment, tilting his head as he looked her over, and then he shook his head. And she couldn't help noticing that he had a great smile. He was very handsome.

I was wrong. He corrected himself thoughtfully. You're a serious person, but you're not in a serious branch of law. How's that for an odd combination? Maybe you only represent prizefighters or skiers. Am I right? He was teasing her and she laughed.

Why did you decide that I'm not in corporate or antitrust?

You're not boring. You're serious and conscientious, but there's a lot of laughter in your eyes. Antitrust guys never laugh. So, was I right? Are you in sports law? ‘ Oh, Jesus, don't tell me it's P.I. or malpractice. I'd hate to think of you doing work like that. He winced as he set his empty glass down, and she grinned at him. It had been fun for a while, and she felt surprisingly at ease with him as she looked him in the eye.

I'm in entertainment law, in Los Angeles. I came here to talk to Mr. Weissman about one of his clients, and see some of our other contacts here. I represent people in show business generally, writers, producers, directors, actors.

Interesting, very interesting, he said, looking her over again, as though trying to decide if the information all fit together. And you're from L.A.? He looked as though he was surprised when she said she was.

All my life, except for seven years at Yale.

I went to a rival school, he said, and she held up a hand.

Wait. It's my turn now. This one's easy. You went to Harvard. You're from the East, probably from New York, or she squinted as she looked at him maybe Connecticut or Boston. And you went to boarding school ‘ let's see, Exeter, or St. Paul's. He was laughing at the profile she was describing, ultraconservative, ultrapredictable, totally upper-crust New York. He wasn't sure if the dark suit had done it, or the Hermes tie, or maybe a recent haircut.

You're close. I am from New York. I went to Andover. And I did go to Harvard. I taught at Stanford for a year, and now I'm She interrupted him and held up her hand again, as she looked him over. He didn't look like a professor, unless he taught in the business school, but he seemed too young and good-looking for that. If she'd been in L.A., she would have thought he was an actor, but he also looked too intelligent and not self-centered enough to be an actor.

It's my turn again, she reminded him. You've already told me too much. You probably teach literature at Columbia. But to be honest, I thought you were a banker when we first met. He looked very Wall Street, and very respectable, except for the mischief in his eyes.

It's the suit. He smiled, looking a little like her brother. He was almost as tall, and in an odd way, he reminded her of her father too. There was something familiar about his smile. I bought the suit to please my mother. She said I needed something respectable to wear if I was going to come back to New York.

Have you been away? she asked. He still hadn't told her if he was a banker or a professor, and they were both enjoying the sparring, as the crowd finally began to thin out. There had been almost two hundred people milling around the Weissmans' elegant apartment, and it seemed almost empty now with roughly half that.

I've been away for six months, working somewhere else, he gave her a clue. I hate to tell you where. He was highly amused by the things they had said about each other, and she was still trying to figure where he had been, and what he'd been doing.

You've been teaching in Europe? He shook his head. Teaching anywhere? She was looking puzzled now. Maybe the suit had misled her. When she looked at his eyes, she could see that he had imagination, and he obviously liked assembling facts.

No teaching in a long time. But you're not far off. Shall I tell you?

I guess so. I give up. It's all your mother's fault. I think the suit confused me, she said lightheartedly, and they both laughed.

I can see why. It confuses me too. When I looked in the mirror tonight, I had no idea who I was. Actually, I'm a writer you know, torn running shoes, English carpet slippers, old bathrobes, faded jeans, and Harvard sweatshirts with holes everywhere.

I figured you were that type. He looked great in the suit though, and she suspected that there was more in his wardrobe than torn sweatshirts. He was a terrific-looking guy, and she guessed him to be about thirty-five. He was actually thirty-four, and had sold his first book to the movies the year before. His second book had just come out, and was getting splendid reviews, and selling very well, actually much to his surprise. It was very literary, but it had been something he felt he had to write. Andreas Weissman had been trying to convince him that his real talent lay in commercial fiction, and he was about to begin writing his third book, and trying to broaden his horizons.

So where have you been for six months? Writing on a beach in the Bahamas somewhere? It seemed very romantic to her, and all he could do was laugh at the suggestion.

A beach, but not the Bahamas. I've been living in Los Angeles for six months, in Malibu, adapting my first book for a movie. I was crazy enough to agree to write the screenplay and coproduce it, something I probably wouldn't do again, though I'm sure no one will ever ask me. A friend of mine from Harvard is producing it with me, and directing.

Did you just move back? It seemed so odd that he should be here, and they should meet, after he'd been in L.A. for six months. It was strange that among all the people there that night they had singled each other out. Both of them freshly arrived from California, drawn to each other like magnets.

I'm here for a week, he explained, to see my agent. I have an idea for a third book, and if I ever finish this damn screenplay I'm working on, I'm going to lock myself up for a year and write it. I've already had an offer to do a screenplay on the second one, but I'm not even sure I want to do it. I'm not sure if I'm cut out for Hollywood, or the film business. I've been trying to decide if I just want to come back to New York and stick to writing books from now on, and forget the movies. I haven't made up my mind yet. For the moment, my life is a little schizophrenic.

There's no reason why you can't do both. You don't even have to write the screenplays yourself if you don't want to. Sell the books, and let someone else do that, it would give you more time to write your novel. She felt as though she were advising one of her clients, and he smiled at the serious look in her eyes.

And if they butcher the book? he asked, looking worried, and as she saw the expression in his eyes, she had to laugh.

Spoken just like a writer. The agonies of giving your baby up to strangers. I can't guarantee you it's without problems, but sometimes it's less stressful than writing the screenplay yourself, not to mention coproducing.

I can believe that. Walking on nails is less stressful. The people out there drive me crazy. They have no regard whatsoever for the writing. All they care about are the cast, and maybe the director. The script means absolutely nothing to them. As far as they're concerned, it's just words. They cheat, they lie, they tell you anything that suits them just to get what they want. I think I'm getting used to it now, God forbid. But at first they really drove me nuts.

It sounds like you need a good attorney in L.A., or maybe a local agent to give you a hand. You should have Andreas refer you to someone at CAA, she said practically, as he smiled and held out a hand to her.

Maybe I should call you, he said, finding the idea very appealing. I haven't even introduced myself. Here I am, complaining at you, I'm really sorry. I'm Jeff Hamilton. She met his eyes and smiled, as they stood very close to each other in the thinning crowd at the Weissmans' party. She recognized his name as soon as he said it.

I read your first book. I liked it very much. It had been quite serious, and at times very funny. But it had made an impression on her, and she'd remembered it, which said something. I'm Allegra Steinberg, she supplied.

No relation to the producer, I assume, he said casually, still amused by the game they'd been playing, and the fact that they both lived in L.A. But she corrected him quickly. She was proud of her family, although she never rested on their laurels.

Simon Steinberg is my father, she said calmly.

He passed on my first book, but I liked him a lot. He spent a whole afternoon in his office telling me what was wrong with it as a screenplay. And the funny thing was that I realized he was right. Eventually I made a lot of the changes he suggested. I've always wanted to call and thank him, but somehow I never got the chance.

He's very smart about a lot of things, she smiled. He's given me some pretty good advice over the years.

I can imagine that. He could imagine a lot of things, but one of them was seeing her again after that night. She was starting to look around by then; she realized that another several dozen guests had left while she and Jeff were talking. I guess I'd better go, she said regretfully. It was long after nine o'clock, which was supposed to be the end of the party.

Where are you staying? he asked, anxious not to let her slip away. There was something very unusual about her, and he had to resist an urge to reach out and touch her.

I'm at the Regency. What about you?

I'm spoiled. I'm staying at my mother's apartment here in town. She's away on a cruise until February. It's quiet, but very convenient. It's just a few blocks from here. He followed her casually to the foyer, along with half a dozen other guests. She claimed her heavy coat again, and he took his off a rack, with a long wool scarf. Can I give you a lift somewhere? he asked hopefully, after they thanked Mrs. Weissman for the party. Andreas was upstairs, deep in conversation with two young authors, looking as though he didn't want to be disturbed, so they left him, and went back downstairs.

I'm just going back to the hotel, she said as they got in the elevator and started down. I'll take a cab. They crossed the lobby side by side, feeling comfortable together. He held the door for her, followed her out, and then gently took her arm. It was snowing again outside and the ground was very slippery.

Would you like to go for a drink someplace? A hamburger maybe? It's early, and I'd love to talk to you for a while. I hate meeting someone like this, getting all excited about them, and then suddenly they're gone. It seems so futile somehow. All that energy and excitement for nothing. He looked at her hopefully, and he seemed very young. But there was something about her that fascinated him. He had no idea what it was, but she felt drawn to him as well. They both lived in Los Angeles; they were in related fields; they seemed to have a lot in common. But whatever it was, he didn't want to leave her yet, and she had no desire to go back to the hotel. It would have seemed so lonely after talking to him. And now they stood outside, watching the snow, her hand tucked in his arm.