Crazy For You (14 page)

“Frankie, have you been eavesdropping on Aunt
Candy?” As soon as she asked the question she realized he probably
wouldn’t know what that meant. “Never mind…see…he’s an old friend
of Candy’s.” She stumbled around the words, trying to explain. “She
knew him a long time ago. Before you were born.”

“Oh...” Slowly, Frankie headed for the door. He
opened it and then turned to look back at Roxanne. “Mom? Is Rich
ugly?” he asked with a puzzled look.

“Why would you think he’s ugly?”

“Aunt Candy told him not to come here cause he would
scare the hell outta you.”

Roxanne chuckled. “No, he’s not ugly. She just meant
that seeing him again, after all this time, might be a shock for
me.”

Roxanne found herself wanting to say,
know your
favorite band, Frankie
?
Well, Rich plays in that band
.
But hell, if she was going to go that far, then she might as well
go all the way and tell him the singer was his father.

But like Frankie’s father had said—there are things
that should just be left alone. This was one of them.

She could be certain about one thing though—if Candy
was meeting Rich, then Frank couldn’t be far behind.

Roxanne didn’t harbor any delusions about Frank or
the predicament she’d gotten herself into. She knew she’d have to
tell him the truth. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. In the
end, there would be no easy way to achieve this task. No matter
what method she used, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

By the time Candy arrived at Bennigan’s the
restaurant was already packed with the afternoon crowd. That
worried Candy since lots of people tended to inspire over-zealous
fans. She kept her Sun Clouds on as she made her way through the
restaurant, following the hostess back to the secluded table where
Rich was waiting for her.

When she was no more than a few paces from his
table, Rich stood. “Hello, Candy.” He brushed his lips against her
cheek. “You’re looking well.”

She smiled and sat down. “You don’t look so bad
yourself,” she said, taking off her shades.

“Your waitress will be right with you.” The hostess
placed menus on the table. “Can I bring you something to drink in
the meantime?”

“Can I get a draft?” Candy needed a drink.

“Two,” Rich said, and the hostess was off.

He passed a menu to Candy, along with a smile that
she figured he probably wasn’t aware of. His eyes crackled with
fire, sending her heart into a frenzied outburst. Looking at him
now, the realization of just how much she’d missed him came back to
haunt her. She wanted him to hold her and comfort her and tell her
everything was going to be okay. But she didn’t hold out much hope
for that happening.

“I…ah…I guess I owe you an explanation,” she said,
desperately trying to think of one.

“You don’t owe me anything.” He let her off the
hook.

Rich didn’t see the sense in getting all uptight
over something he no longer cared about. He’d come there for one
reason and it wasn’t Candy. All Rich wanted to know was if
Roxanne’s kid belonged to Frank. All the rest, he didn’t give a
damn about. Well, that’s what he told himself.

Someone popped over and dropped off two mugs and a
pitcher of beer. Candy smiled and Rich nodded and filled the
glasses.

“Well, I’d like to give you one anyway,” she said,
taking the glass he offered. “Just as soon as I can think of
something.” She laughed.

“Candy, you had every right to go anywhere you
wanted. Without permission from me.” His words rang coolly in her
ears.

Their waitress appeared, easing the tension a
little. “Are you ready to order?” she asked with a smile as she
glanced back and forth between them. Recognition lit her eyes.

Rich mumbled a couple of orders and waved the
waitress away. Turning back to Candy, he said, “You’ve done well
for yourself. Both you and Roxanne.”

“I might say the same for you, too. Three
albums.”

That told him she knew all about Garrett-Hollander’s
achievements.

“Well...” He tried not to laugh at the thought of
comparing Candy and Roxanne’s
Cinderella story
to his and
Frank’s
eleventh hour reprieve
. “Our success didn’t come as
easily as yours.”

“Well, most of what happened to us was accidental,
especially on my part.”

“I guess you were in the right place at the right
time, huh?” There was a degree of certainty in his words.

A group of waiters and waitresses had gathered
around the corner, securely hidden from view.

“She’s right,” a waiter declared. “That’s Rich
Hollander and Candy Simon.”

“What are they doing in Tampa?” another asked,
skeptical.

“Garrett-Hollander’s from Tampa,” someone announced
proudly.

“Ooh!” another joined in, excited. “I saw Candy’s
sister, Roxanne Simon, on Lauren Weber’s talk show the other day.
Lauren was asking her about G-H, too. Roxanne acted like she didn’t
know much about them…but Lauren thinks her kid belongs to Frank
Garrett.”

“I saw that show,” someone else said. “Roxanne
didn’t give Lauren’s allegation any merit.” She paused, as if
considering the possibility again and then gave her head a decisive
shake. “I don’t believe it.”

Rich and Candy’s waitress finally spoke up. “Well,
there may not be anything going on between Roxanne Simon and Frank
Garrett...but there’s certainly something going on between those
two,” she said of Rich and Candy.

Back in the dining area, Rich peered into Candy’s
eyes. “The reason I asked you to meet me is because I have to ask
you something.” He paused, wondering if his efforts were useless.
He knew Candy would do whatever she deemed necessary to protect
Roxanne. She’d proved that five years ago.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I saw Roxanne on TV the other day. I want to know
if it’s true?”

“What?”

“Is that Frank’s kid?”

“Frankie?” she said, like that was the dumbest thing
she’d ever heard.

“Yes.” Rich stopped, hesitating on purpose.
“Frankie.” He didn’t want to put too much emphasis on the boy’s
name. There was always the chance that it had nothing to do with
Frank. A small chance. But the likelihood was there that Roxanne
had named her son after her father, and not Frank at all. Still, no
matter who the kid was named after—if Frank was the boy’s father,
Rich had to tread lightly because if Candy got the idea that she
was being backed into a corner, she’d clam up and he wouldn’t end
up learning a damned thing.

Candy didn’t say anything for the longest time.
Instead, she searched her brain for a way out of this one. She
wasn’t the world’s best liar and everybody knew that. Including
Rich. Then, all of a sudden, it hit her and salvation, in the form
of the truth, came to her.

“Seems to me,” she said, “that I recall Kirk Bronson
claimed to be Frankie’s father.” And that was in fact what actually
happened. Truth could be a relative thing when Candy found a way to
entangle it with a seed of reality. “Publicly too. And it cost him
his marriage.” She gave Rich a little smile. “Now, it wouldn’t make
much sense for him to do something like that if it weren’t true,
now would it?”

Rich felt the defeat closing in on him. He gave
Candy credit for the performance she’d just turned in. “You’re not
going tell me…are you?” He didn’t wait for her to respond, knowing
she wouldn’t. Instead he yielded, saying, “congratulations.”

She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“The awards,” he said. “You deserve every one they
ever gave you. And many more” He wasn’t overlooking the acting
she’d just done on his behalf. Resentment set in and Rich stopped
talking. He wasn’t going to get what he’d come for. It didn’t take
much to realize that today was all about protecting Roxanne.

After they were done eating, Rich and Candy argued
over who would pay the bill. Finally, they agreed that he’d buy
lunch and she could leave a tip.

Quietly, they headed outside. Neither of them said
anything as they strolled along the sidewalk next to the
restaurant.

“Candy...” Rich finally spoke when they were a few
feet from his car. “I must tell you—” He stopped in front of a
black Targa. “—the only reason I’m here today is because of
Frank.”

“I know.”

“But it’s good to see that you’re okay.”

Candy glanced at the license plate of a white
convertible Jaguar parked beside her Porsche.
I’M RICH
. She
laughed softly at the car owner’s audacity.

“Do you like it?” His eyes darted between Candy and
the car. “I thought the Jag was a little extravagant, but I do have
to keep up with Frank and his Ferrari.”

“This is your car?” Realizing the plates only
represented his name, Candy felt like a judgmental jerk. “That’s
cute.” She unlocked her car and got inside.

“You take care of yourself,” he said, closing the
car’s door.

“Rich...” Candy rolled down the window. “Did…ah…did
Frank see the show?”

“I don’t know.”

A wave of remorse and regret washed over Candy.
“Rich...?” She latched onto his hand. “Would you do me a
favor?”

“That depends.” He made no move to retrieve his hand
from hers.

“Would you meet me at The Other Place tonight? For
old time’s sake?” She tried to give him a reason to show up, other
than just to see her.

He hesitated and cleared his throat. “All right.” He
slipped his hand away from hers. “For old time’s sake.” She got the
feeling he meant that. For old time’s sake, and nothing more.

Once Candy arrived back at the house, she went to
look for Roxanne. She had to tell her about her meeting with Rich.
She found Roxanne sunning by the pool.

Candy explained what had happened, and Roxanne began
gathering up her things. “I appreciate it that you covered for me.
I know this thing with Rich hasn’t been easy for you.”

“I gotta tell you,” Candy said, “I really don’t
think he believed me.”

“Did he say much about Frankie?”

Candy assumed she was talking about Frank. “Not
really…he was more interested in little Frankie.”

“Do you think Frank’s in town?”

“Rich didn’t act like he was,” she said, and let it
go at that. She purposely forgot to mention she had a date with
Rich that evening.

Later that night, Roxanne didn’t give it much
thought or bother to ask where Candy was going. Instead, she spent
her time convincing herself that Frank wasn’t in town. Denying it
was much easier than worrying about it.

Still, she found herself yearning for some
familiarity. She longed to find something positive about her affair
with Frank Garrett, and contemplated dropping in on The Other
Place.

From her car, Candy could see the small crowd
hanging out in front of the bar. Somehow she knew Rich stood in the
midst of all those people. She hesitated briefly, then pushed
herself to open the car door and get out. Nervously, she headed
toward the group of people.

Rich’s smile said he’d been enjoying the crowd’s
attention, but he cut them off swiftly when he saw her heading his
way. “Well, it was nice seeing you all again.”

He strolled toward her with a slow swagger, unaware
of the smile crossing his lips as he slipped his hand around hers
and kissed her cheek.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said as they entered the
bar.

Rich pushed their way through the mass of people.
Candy held fast to his hand, following close behind him. The whole
scene reminded her of a time so long ago.

They found an empty stool at the small bar in back.
Rich stood beside it, gesturing for her to sit.

“Place is pretty crowded, huh?” She hopped up on the
bar stool.

“Guess some things never change,” he said,
distant.

They ordered drinks and autographed a napkin for the
bartender.

Candy sipped on her beer and hesitated before
setting the bottle on the bar. “So tell me about your life. Are you
happy?”

Fine time to ask me now
. “Candy…I’ve learned
how to be happy with what I’ve been given.”

“I can understand that,” she said with a slight nod.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“Look…I loved you once. But that’s all behind me
now,” he tried to sound convincing. “I have fond memories of you.
But that’s it.”

“Well—” Her sharp, piercing laughter stung more than
he wanted to admit. “I guess I deserve that.” She avoided eye
contact.

Rich touched her chin and brought her gaze back
around to meet his. “I hope we can remain friends.”

“But not lovers.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Course I do.” She tried to contain the hurt
building up inside. “Hell, I’m lucky to attain that.”

“There will always be a special place for you in my
heart.”

But never your life
. She knew her eyes would
give her away, so she looked off behind him and felt her mouth fall
practically to the floor.

“Are you all right?”

“I don’t believe it,” she said softly, trying to
crouch down behind Rich.

“What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a
ghost.”

“Worse,” she said. “I see Frank.”

F
rank leaned against the
bar and combed back his fingers through his well-trimmed hair. He
took a drink of his beer and then scanned the crowd as he adjusted
his Vaurnets.

The sunglasses were a habit he’d acquired while the
band recorded the first album. It hadn’t taken him long to realize
that his eyes were the mirror to his soul and Roxanne had seen
that. He had to make sure that no one else ever accomplished what
she’d done when she managed to invade his heart. After that, Frank
was determined that no one would ever peer into his baby blues
again. From that moment on, he was never seen anywhere, by anyone,
without a pair of shades.

Frank had quickly figured out how to keep women at a
distance, but it had taken a lot longer to realize he couldn’t turn
any of them into Roxanne. No matter what he did to make them look
like her—whether it be matching her hair color, or fitting them
with contacts that somehow missed the mark on her violet eyes—he
just couldn’t seem to get any of them to
act
like her. He’d
long since tired of looking at other women with similar
resemblances and being reminded of Roxanne. Just once he wanted to
see the real thing, and not up on some silver screen or in any
magazine.