If You Want Me (7 page)

“Sebastian seemed completely baffled that I turned him down. I did worse than that, actually,” she said, a victorious smile spreading on her lips. “I…well, I kneed him in the groin and walked off the set.”

“Ouch.”

“I thought that was the end of it. I didn’t care how great the role was, I wasn’t about to step foot on that set again and work for that pig.” Alice realized that her chest was heaving as she spoke, she was so livid. She drew in a deep breath to calm her nerves. “I guess this is his idea of payback.”

“But to say you turned on him after he rejected your sexual advances?”

“I know we haven’t been in touch over the years, but I assure you, Marcus, I’m the same Alice Watson I was when I left Chicago. Sebastian had to come up with some story to explain why I was no longer working on the film, and he did this when he knew I wouldn’t be around to defend myself. To make everyone believe I ran away. To make it seem more credible.”

“You did what was most important.”

“God, Marcus. What if this is the beginning of the end of my career? Just a couple weeks ago, my agent told me another director wants me on a major feature in the fall. But now…”

Marcus felt entirely out of his element, talking to a successful actress about tabloid articles and future film projects. He knew nothing of that world. He was a beat cop whose job could hardly be classified as glamorous. “Your career means the world to you, doesn’t it?”

“It did.” Alice was surprised at her words. “It
does
. Oh, Marcus. I know this won’t make sense. There are people who would kill to have my career, but I’ve been feeling restless for some time.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“But you’ve always loved acting.”

“I still do. It’s the Tinseltown BS I can live without. It’s all about who you know. And as far as Sebastian’s concerned, it’s about who I didn’t blow.”

Alice paused, surprised by her bitterness. She hadn’t meant to sound so crass, so sour. She did have happy memories of Hollywood. Winning the Golden Globe Award this year had been the high point of her career. She was proud of what she’d accomplished. She’d done well for herself and in
tended to continue doing well for herself. It was just this crazy story that had her in a funky mood. “Actually, I don’t know why I’m even saying this. Maybe it’s just being back here, dealing with my mother’s health crisis. I really can’t imagine a life outside of the film business.”

“I’m sure you can’t,” Marcus said in a supercilious tone.

“It’s my life, Marcus. I can only hope this tabloid trash doesn’t affect my career in a negative way.”

“I’m sure you can get some spin doctor to save the day. Besides, in the showbiz world, negative attention is often better than no attention, isn’t it?” Wasn’t that what these stars did when things didn’t quite go their way? Hire spin doctors to turn all the facts around and have them looking sweet? Besides, so many actors had gotten themselves into ugly situations, yet their careers flourished almost
because
of their flaws. Especially the beautiful ones. They could get away with almost anything.

Alice was looking at him like she couldn’t believe what he’d said. “You don’t understand,” she said after a moment.

“Hey, what do I know about caviar and ritzy parties and designer outfits? I’m just a cop.”

There was no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice, and Alice finally understood the extent of his feelings—he was
angry
with her. And while part of her could understand his feelings, she didn’t appreciate him ragging out on her, right here in their old hangout. “Marcus, if you have something to say, why don’t you just say it?”

He stared at her long and hard. “Obviously your career means a lot to you.”

“Too much?” Alice asked, cocking her head to the side in a feisty gesture.

“Hey, it’s your life.”

“Damn it, Marcus.”

“Don’t push this, Alice. I’m not sure you’ll like what I have to say.”

The bell above the entrance sounded as a teenage couple entered the shop. Alice watched them walk past their table and to a far corner, then turned back to Marcus. She blew out a ragged breath. She didn’t want to fight with him. But she did want to hear what he was feeling. “Talk to me.”

Marcus glanced through the window. “I’m sorry about Tanisha. How she used you today when it suited her.”

A frown creased Alice’s brow. Marcus was clearly avoiding the issue. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. I intend to talk to her.”

“What good will that do?”

“It will let her know she can’t treat you the way she did.”

“You haven’t changed, have you?”

“Meaning?”

“You were always so serious. Always seeming to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Marcus, you’re not responsible for what everyone does.” When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “I can handle Tanisha.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing you can’t handle, Desirée. A successful actress like you, you don’t need anyone.”

Alice raised an eyebrow. Her stage name on his lips sounded sour. “Now what’s
that
supposed to mean?”

“Let’s just say that not all change is good.”

“And what does
that
mean?”

Marcus shrugged.

“Don’t you dare judge me, Marcus. We haven’t been friends for years. You don’t know me anymore.”

“Exactly,” he said, meeting her eyes with a level stare. “And whose fault is that?”

His question stopped Alice cold. He was right, of course. The death of their friendship had been her fault. But coming to Maxi’s now and talking the way they had years ago, she’d felt as though they’d made headway in terms of reestablishing their friendship. Clearly she was wrong.

As if in response to her frustration, he said, “You know, I never thought thirteen years would pass without even a phone call or letter from you.”

Though Alice had wanted him to tell her what was wrong, she suddenly wasn’t ready to deal with it. She swallowed a spoonful of the yogurt, stalling for time. What could she say that would seem reasonable? “I just…Trying to establish a career in Hollywood is very difficult. Between working to survive and auditioning, there wasn’t much time for anything else.”

“Hmm.”

He wasn’t buying it. She couldn’t blame him. The explanation was lame. But the last thing she wanted to do was admit she’d been head over heels in love with him and absolutely crushed when he’d told her he was going to marry Tanisha.

“You ready?” he asked as he stuffed his napkin into the paper cup.

Alice scraped the sides of the plastic container
to capture the last bits of yogurt. She swallowed the last spoonful, but she was too concerned with the distance between her and Marcus to enjoy the taste.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” She stood. She may as well head home.

At least there, she knew what to expect. Marcus was too unpredictable.

“I heard,” Marie said as Alice walked into the house and sank onto the sofa in the living room.

“Evening to you, too.”

Sitting with her legs curled up on the armchair, Marie shook her head with disdain. “God, Alice. A sex scandal? What’s going on?”

“If you’re asking whether or not the story is true, no, it’s not.”

“I don’t like this. It’s exactly this type of thing I want to spare Mia from. But you come back here with a snazzy car, fancy clothes, looking like a glamour queen—that’s got to influence her.”

The hint of envy in Marie’s voice surprised Alice. Considering Marie put down Hollywood on almost all the occasions they’d talked in the past, it never occurred to her that her sister might be jealous of her success.

Alice said, “Mia has a mind of her own.”

“I don’t think you realize how much of an influence you have on her. I don’t want her getting caught up in the amoral vacuum that we call Hollywood.”

Alice raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow as she regarded her sister. “
Hollywood
isn’t bad, Marie.
There’s good and bad in everything but it’s the bad stuff that sells papers. I’ll talk to Mia about the article, if you want. God knows you can’t shelter children from this stuff.”

“No. If she doesn’t know about it, I don’t want you to say anything. God, you’ll defend that place till your dying day. You were always so obsessed with being in the spotlight.”

“That’s not true.” Alice had never craved the spotlight, though that came with being a successful actress. She’d simply had a burning passion to act—as real to her as the need to breathe.

“Of course it’s true.”

This wasn’t what Alice needed right now. Her day with Marcus had already ended on a sour note and she wanted merely to relax. Still, Marie’s comment hurt. Like her mother, her sister had never supported her.

She felt the beginnings of a headache and reached into her purse for her bottle of Advil. “How’s Mother?”

“Sleeping. A couple of the neighbors came by to see her, but I didn’t want them staying too long. Mama seemed extra tired today.”

“I’ll check on her later. Where’s Mia?”

“Her father picked her up. He’ll have her until tomorrow.”

Alice dry swallowed two pills, then stood. “I need a nap.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Marie jumped up from the armchair. “Something came for you via FedEx.” She hustled through the dining room to the kitchen, then returned with a package and handed it to Alice. “It’s from Los Angeles.”

Alice looked at the package. The return address was from Connie Frum.

“Any idea what it is?” Marie asked.

She knew exactly what it was. “It’s a script from my agent. Something she wants me to look over.”

“For a part?”

“Yeah.”

“Guess you’ll be taking off to Hollywood again for your next big film and we won’t hear from you for a few years.” Gone was the envy, replaced by bitterness.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Alice replied, unable to keep the annoyance from her voice. “At least not until Mom gets well.”

With that, Alice slipped the script under her arm and headed upstairs to her room to read it.

Alice awoke with a start, then bolted upright when she realized someone was knocking on her bedroom door. Glancing at the digital clock beside her bed, she saw that it was eleven minutes after ten. The daylight filling the room indicated it was morning, which meant Marie was at work at the dental office and Mia was at school.

Alice threw the covers off and darted to the door. “Mother!” she exclaimed when she opened it. “What are you doing out of bed?”

Her mother wore a scowl. “Someone had to answer the phone.”

“There’s a call for me?”

“Not anymore.”

Alice wore a silk and lace nightie that reached her midthigh, and her mother took in the outfit with distaste.

Not bothering to go to her closet for a robe, Alice
placed her arm around her mother’s waist to give her support. “Mother, you know you’re not supposed to be out of bed.”

“I wanted to talk to you,” she said.

Slowly, Alice led her mother down the hallway to her bedroom. “You could have waited until I came to you.”

“No, this couldn’t wait.”

Alice opened the bedroom door with her free hand and entered the room with her mother. Her mother might object to the bed rest, but even now she walked with more effort than was normal, and her breath came in quick gasps.

Alice noticed the bed was neatly made, and looking at her mother, she frowned. “You’ve barely been out of the hospital for two full weeks. The doctor said bed rest, Mother.”

“I needed to get up and stretch my legs.”

Alice released her so that she could turn down the bedspread. “Next time, wait for me. All right, get back in.”

Sighing, Rosa sat on the bed’s edge. Alice helped her put her feet under the covers. Then she propped up the pillows behind her mother’s head so she could sit up comfortably.

“You don’t have to pretend that you care.”

Alice’s hands stilled on the cover she was adjusting around her mother’s hips. A painful lump instantly formed in her throat.

“Of course I care,” she managed, though her voice was stilted.

“If you cared, you wouldn’t have told Sara about my private business.”

Alice’s heart was pumping so hard from the myr
iad of emotions she tried to suppress—anger, disbelief, sadness, bitterness. She did a breathing exercise, one she often did before a performance, to subdue the unwanted feelings. “Aunt Sara called?”

“Yes, she called. And she knew about my heart attack. I don’t see why you had to tell her.”

“I didn’t know it was a secret.”

“That woman has never liked me, so I’d appreciate it if you would keep my private business from her in the future. Oh.” Rosa’s hand flew to her chest.

“Mother.” Panic washed over Alice as she watched her mother’s eyes squeeze shut. She placed her own hand over Rosa’s. The contact felt foreign, bringing home to Alice once again the reality that she and her mother had never been close. It made her fear over her mother’s health sharper, keener. What if they never got the chance to make things right between them?

“What do you need? Should I call the doctor?”

“No,” Rosa replied. She blew out a weary breath and opened her eyes. “It was just a pain, but it’s passed.”

“Do you see why you’re supposed to stay in bed? Have you taken your medicine?”

“Marie made sure I took it this morning.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Fruit.”

“All right.” As Alice went downstairs to the kitchen, her hands trembled. Seeing her mother in pain had scared her more than she’d expected. She whispered a silent prayer that she wasn’t about to have a relapse.

Minutes later, she had a bowl of cantaloupe, hon
ey dew melon and apple pieces arranged. She brought it to her mother.

“Thank you,” Rosa said softly.

A wave of sadness washed over Alice. It was hard to see her mother, who had always been so strong, weak and stuck in bed.

She couldn’t risk upsetting her again. This stage of her recovery was critical, and Alice didn’t want to do anything that might cause her more harm. She didn’t know how her mother would react to the story in
The Intellect,
but she’d make sure she didn’t tell her about it, and would swear Marie to secrecy on the subject as well.

She left her mother with the bowl of fruit and a novel, a romantic comedy she’d been reading, and went back to her bedroom. She would have to call Aunt Sara.

Aunt Sara had kept in touch with the family for years after Uncle Winston’s death. She’d been a godsend for Alice in the beginning when she’d left home, providing her with a place to live and money to get by. She had also supported her unconditionally, something Alice had not gotten from her own mother. Aunt Sara’s love had made leaving Chicago seem like the right thing.

For some reason, Rosa didn’t like Aunt Sara. From the time Alice was a young child, she remembered her mother complaining when her father told her that Uncle Winston and Aunt Sara would be in town. Considering they saw them once a year at the most, Alice could never understand why her mother was so against seeing them. Her father would insist, but her mother couldn’t hide her discomfort even for the few short hours her aunt and uncle visited.

That was just one more thing Alice didn’t understand about her mother. From what she knew of Aunt Sara, she was a good, decent, and loving person who’d lost her husband too soon and had never remarried. She and Rosa had more in common than her mother thought.

Alice strolled to the bedroom window and peered outside. The sky was a bleak gray, yet across the street, May flowers sprouted from the ground in a few gardens. Her mother always used to enjoy planting flowers in the spring, but with her heart attack, she wouldn’t be able to plant anything this year. Maybe Alice could pick out some impatiens and marigolds for her.

As soon as that thought came to her mind, Alice dismissed it. She wasn’t here to play house and plant flowers and pretend to the world that all was okay. She was here to help her mother while she got well. Then she would go back to Los Angeles and continue with her life.

She looked to where the script from her agent lay on the small desk she’d used as a child. When she’d opened the package last night, she’d planned to skim through it, but from the first page she was hooked and she’d stayed up late reading it. It had taken her longer to get through it than she’d anticipated because she’d read, then stop, and imagine herself in the lead role of Tina playing opposite Ryan Gray, one of America’s best-loved heartthrobs. It was a suspense thriller about a cop turned serial killer in Los Angeles. If she accepted the role, she and Ryan would play FBI agents who worked together to solve the crime. God, what this part could mean for her career.

The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. “I’ll
get it,” she called out, hoping her mother wouldn’t exert any effort to reach for the phone. It rang a second time as she made it to the hallway. Alice snatched up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hello, Desirée.”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Tanisha Quinn.”

Tanisha Quinn. Good Lord, was she still using Marcus’s name?

And if she was, why should she care? It wasn’t like she still had feelings for Marcus. She’d gotten over him years ago.

“I didn’t expect to hear from you,” Alice said.

“I’ve left several messages for Willie and haven’t heard back from him, so I’m hoping you’ll reconsider my offer that you teach the class.”

“Really?” Alice shook her head with chagrin. One minute Tanisha wanted her, the next she didn’t. Now she wanted her again. “What about my
reputation?
”

“Actually, I spoke with some of the parents, and they don’t seem to mind at all if you take over the class—despite that nasty story. But you have to understand I’d be concerned.”

Alice doubted Tanisha had spoken with anybody. Except perhaps Marcus. And she was more than tempted to say no. In fact, she would have, if it weren’t for Mia.

“Look, I need someone, and if you’re willing to do the job…You are, aren’t you?”

Tanisha sounded almost desperate. “All right, Tanisha. I’ll do it.”

“Great. Can you come to the theater and see me today so we can talk details?”

“Sure. What time?”

“Say, in an hour?”

“All right.”

An hour later, Alice pulled into the parking lot of the Bartlett Theater. She had made sure her mother was okay, then assured her she wouldn’t be gone long.

There were two cars in the parking lot. The Sun-bird belonged to Tanisha, she knew from the past Saturday. As she climbed out of her car, she wondered who owned the Honda.

It looked like it might rain any minute, but Alice still wore sunglasses. And a baseball cap. It was the best she could do to keep a low profile after that tabloid report.

Unlike Saturday, when she’d brought Mia here for her class, the theater was well lit when Alice stepped inside. Tanisha, however, was nowhere to be seen as she scanned the vast area. Alice took a few steps toward the left aisle, then remembered that Mia had led her to the right of the stage when she’d been bringing her to meet the director. When Alice had taken classes here years ago, the offices had been to the left of the stage while an off-limits storage area had been to the right. She hadn’t noticed yesterday but obviously there had been renovations to the theater.

Crossing the back of the theater to the far right aisle, Alice made her way to the front in search of Tanisha. The back of her neck tingled with apprehension. It wasn’t that she was afraid, but she had never dealt with Tanisha in a civil, one-on-one capacity, and the fact that she was about to spend some time alone with her now made her uneasy. She knew they’d never be friends.

When she got to the front of the theater, she saw double doors that led behind the stage, no doubt to the offices. She pushed her weight against one door and walked through. That’s when she heard the voices. While she couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, she could distinctly make out male and female voices. She moved closer.

“God, you are impossible,” Tanisha said, frustrated. “This conversation is over.”

“Why won’t you listen to me?”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“You need me. You know you do.”

“What I need is for you to leave.”

“Damn you, Tanisha!”

Alice contemplated turning around and going back out the doors, and was about to do just that, when someone whizzed through the office door like an out-of-control freight train. Alice quickly flattened her back to the wall. Seeing her, the man stopped momentarily, clearly surprised.

Their eyes met.

Willie Thompson.

He was angry, no doubt about it, and after a brief pause, he continued on his way, stalking through the double doors into the main area of the theater. Then he was gone.

Alice stayed where she was, her back pressed against the wall. She wondered if he’d recognized her. Willie Thompson had always hated her. Marcus had come to her defense against Willie more times than she could remember.

What was he doing here? And what had he and Tanisha been arguing about?

Alice counted to five, then continued to the open
office door. Tanisha, who sat with her elbows propped on a cluttered desk, her face in her hands, didn’t see her. Alice softly rapped on the door.

Tanisha’s head whipped up, anger flashing in her eyes, followed by relief when she saw it was Alice. “Oh, Desirée. Come in, come in.”

Alice stepped into the room. “Was that Willie I just saw?” she asked. She knew it was, but she merely wanted a conversation opener.

“Yes,” Tanisha replied, punctuating the statement with a groan.

“He’s not coming back, is he?”

Alarm flashed in Tanisha’s eyes. “You heard us?”

“No, not really,” Alice quickly said. “I didn’t hear what you were saying. But I did hear loud voices.”

Tanisha’s shoulders sagged, as though a burden had been lifted. “No, he’s not coming back. I don’t even know why he bothered coming here today.” Sighing, she lifted some papers from a spot on the desk and added them to an already massive pile. “Please, have a seat.”

Alice sat in the black chair across the desk from Tanisha. It was well worn, with a tear through the fabric of the seat, revealing the yellow foam beneath.

“All right,” Tanisha said as she straightened a pile of folders. “What can I tell you about this job? Well, as you know, you’ll be teaching children. They range in age from nine to thirteen. We used to offer a class as well for older students, but we didn’t get enough enrolled in the last couple years to continue with that. Maybe we will in the future, but for now, the older kids seem more interested in video games, computers, and school sports.

“Anyway, each child in the class pays a nominal fee. A hundred and fifty for a session, which is spring and summer. A total of ten weeks.”

Alice remembered. It had been the same when she’d taken classes at the theater, except that all those years ago the fee had been fifty dollars.

“We try to keep the costs low with sponsorship so more children in the community can benefit from the theater, but I have to tell you, we haven’t been very successful in getting major sponsorship in the last few years.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” She folded her arms across the desk and stared at Alice. “In the spring, the children meet here once weekly for ninety minutes and learn different aspects of acting. They do monologues, improvisation, role playing. Stuff like that. Once school is out, they have classes three times a week in preparation of the summer play. God, not even that’s picked out yet.”

“You don’t know what play you’re doing?”

“Willie was in charge of all that, but he left us high and dry.”

“I see.”

“I have some ideas. Maybe I could give you some of the plays to look over and you could decide.”

“Me?”

“Might as well.”

Alice shrugged. She didn’t have anything better to do in the daytime anyway, and while her mother recovered, reading a few plays would be preferable to sitting around the house twiddling her thumbs. Or trying to avoid confrontations with her mother. “Okay.”

Tanisha searched for something among the mess of papers on her desk, then groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I could kill Willie.”