“I'm not sure I can get the time off from work. Let me talk to Bixby, and I'll let you know.” She wasn't sure what she wanted to do about it, but she was stalling for time. And that afternoon she asked Bixby about it when she was sitting in his office working with him.
“I can spare you for a day, if that's what you want,” he said generously. “Are you sure you want to go?”
“No, I'm not,” she said, looking as confused as she felt. “He's a nice man, but I'm not ready to sleep with him or anyone,” she admitted candidly. “He said he'd get me my own room. It might be fun. I don't know.”
“Hell, Paris, why not?” Bixby said with a grin. “I'd like to go too.”
“Then you go with him,” Paris teased.
“Wouldn't he be surprised?” Bixby laughed. “Was he all right about your having your own room?” He was curious.
“He seemed to be,” she said pensively.
“He sounds pretty smooth.” It was precisely what Bixby didn't like about him. He sounded like a pro to him.
By the end of the afternoon she called Chandler, and taking a deep breath, she said she'd go with him. He said they were going to fly down Friday morning. The party he was inviting her to was that night. And fortunately, by sheer luck, Bixby didn't have any major events scheduled for that weekend. Just a small dinner party Sydney Harrington was catering for them, and she would handle that on her own. The following weekend they were doing a huge wedding, and Paris couldn't have gone to L.A.
Paris called Meg that night and told her she was coming down. She said she didn't know what their plans were for the rest of the weekend, but she was going to find time to see Meg whenever she could. She was planning to tell Chandler that too.
“Sounds pretty glamorous, Mom,” Meg said, sounding pleased for her. “What's he like?”
“I don't know. Nice, I guess. He's very good-looking, and very well dressed. He talks a good game, as Bixby would say. And he's been very nice to me.” But she didn't sound enthused. He wasn't Peter, and it was strange being with a new man, stranger still traveling with him to another city. She still wasn't sure she should. But he seemed to understand the ground rules, and accepted them. She was relieved that he had agreed to separate rooms. Otherwise she wouldn't have gone. And she was planning to pay for her own. She didn't want to be indebted to him. Going to the party with him and to L.A. on his plane was more than enough.
“Are you falling for him, Mom?” Meg asked, sounding concerned.
“No, I'm not. I'm not really dating him,” she said, kidding herself. “We're just going out as friends.”
“Does he think that's all it is?”
“I don't know what he thinks. But he's certainly clear that I'm not going to sleep with him. I think he's a gentleman, and if he's not, I'll come stay with you.” Meg laughed at her mother's illusions about dating.
“You'd better take some Mace with you, in case he breaks into your room.”
“I don't think he's the type. At least I hope not. If he does, I'll call the police.”
“That would be nice,” Meg laughed again, and then told her mother she was seeing someone new. He was the first man she'd gone out with since Peace.
“Does this one have a normal name?” her mother teased, and Meg said he did. His name was Anthony Waterston, and he was another young actor she'd met on the set. She said he was very talented, but she didn't know much about him yet.
“It's a lot of work, all this stuff, isn't it?” It reminded Paris of weeding her garden in Greenwich. Sometimes you had to look hard to decide which were the flowers and which were the weeds. And even then sometimes you weren't sure. “I'll see you sometime this weekend,” Paris promised, and then she called Wim to let him know she'd be away. He was out, but she left him a message on his machine.
And that night, when she went to bed, she thought long and hard about what she'd wear. She didn't think she had anything glamorous enough for a Hollywood black tie event, and then she settled on a white silk dress Peter had loved. It had been a little racy for Greenwich, but it was the best she could do, and she didn't have time to shop. She was too busy at work. She didn't have another minute to breathe all week. Or to think about Chandler Freeman.
Chapter 18
Chandler picked Paris up in the Ferrari at eight o'clock on Friday morning, and she was ready and waiting for him. Her bag was packed, and she was carrying her dress in a garment bag. She was wearing a black pantsuit and a fur jacket, and he was wearing a dark suit. They made a handsome pair as they drove off. And an hour later, after parking his car, they were boarding his plane.
It was comfortable and sleek, and she was surprised to see that there was a hostess on board when he took his place in the pilot's seat.
She had a cup of tea and read the paper as they flew south, and by the time she was finished, they were ready to land. It had been a short flight, and she was impressed by how expertly Chandler flew the plane. He obviously took it seriously, and he paid no attention to her until they were on the ground. There was a limousine waiting for them. Meg was right. It was turning out to be a very glamorous weekend. More so than she'd thought.
They chatted in the limo on the way to the hotel, and everyone seemed to know him at the Bel-Air. They bowed and scraped, and an assistant manager escorted them to their rooms, and when she saw them, Paris was impressed. He had an apartment of sorts that he said he always had, and he had reserved a huge suite for her, which he had already paid for, in spite of her objections. He said he wanted to do that for her. In fact, he insisted on it.
“Chandler, this is wonderful,” she said, looking embarrassed. It was hard to believe he was spoiling her this much. She hadn't expected anything even remotely like it.
They had lunch in the dining room, and admired the swans as they waddled by and swam in the pond. And afterward Chandler asked her if she'd like to shop on Rodeo Drive. He still had the limousine standing by, and she confessed shyly that she would.
“You don't have to come with me. I just want to browse a little bit. I never have time when I come to see Meg,” she told him. But they had several hours before they needed to get ready. They didn't have to be at the Grammy party till seven. And it never took Paris long to dress. All she did was bathe, and wind her hair into a sleek knot. And she wore so little makeup, it didn't take long to put on. She was seldom late. She was always perfectly dressed, and impeccably organized. Chandler had already noticed that about her.
He seemed to be enjoying her company considerably, and Paris was finding him easy to be with. He had a nice sense of humor, and an uncomplicated nature. And he seemed to be well versed at shopping with women. He knew all the right shops, and waited patiently while she looked. He didn't even mind when she tried a few things on. And on their way back to the hotel, he astounded her by producing a small shopping bag from Chanel, and handing it to her. He had bought it while she tried on some sweaters and a blouse that were on sale. In the end, the only thing she'd bought on the entire shopping spree was a pair of very simple black shoes that she thought might be good for work. And as she held the bag he had handed her, she looked up at him with hesitation.
“Chandler, you didn't have to do that.” Whatever it was, she knew that it was expensive if it was from Chanel.
“I know I didn't. I enjoy spoiling you a little. You deserve it, Paris. I want this weekend to be fun for you, and now you'll remember it whenever you see this gift.” She opened the gift box cautiously as they rode back to the hotel, and she was stunned when she saw that it was a beautiful black lizard bag. And much to her amazement, it was one she had admired and walked by. She wouldn't have dared to buy it for herself, and he had noticed that, so he had bought it for her. “Chandler, my God!” she exclaimed with wide eyes when she saw it. “It's so beautiful.” And it was also incredibly expensive.