They sat in the garden at the Bel-Air for a little while afterward, and they arrived promptly at Spago at twelve-thirty. Meg and Anthony arrived twenty minutes later, and although Meg looked lovely, Anthony didn't. He was wearing wrinkled black cotton pants and a wrinkled T-shirt, and although Paris tried not to notice, he looked like his hair was dirty. It hung in locks over his eyes and was greasy. But he was a very handsome boy. And he was extremely polite to Chandler and Paris. He had a tattoo of a snake running down one arm, and he was wearing rather large earrings. But Chandler looked completely unaffected by his appearance, and had a very intelligent conversation with him, which was more than Paris could do. Although she had found Peace eccentric and a little zany, she took an instant dislike to Anthony. She thought he was a phony. He name-dropped constantly, and she thought he was condescending to her daughter, as though he were doing her an enormous favor just being with her. And it irritated Paris throughout lunch, so much so that she was still steaming after he and Meg left the table. He had an audition that afternoon, and had promised to drop Meg back in Malibu, and Paris promised to call her later.
“I gather you don't like him,” Chandler said to her once they were alone at the table.
“Was it that obvious?” Paris looked embarrassed. She couldn't stand him.
“Not to the untrained eye. But you forget, I'm a parent. I've been through it. You just have to grit your teeth sometimes and pretend not to notice. They usually disappear pretty quickly. I think he's fairly ambitious. Sooner or later, he'll get himself latched on to someone who can help his career.” And Meg was only a production assistant. Paris just hoped he didn't hurt her feelings. She didn't want Meg to get her heart broken by some young actor, and Anthony looked like just the guy to do it.
“I thought he was arrogant and pompous, and so narcissistic it's a wonder he can hold a conversation.”
“Isn't that a prerequisite for an actor?” Chandler teased. “He's a bright boy. He'll probably go far. Is she madly in love with him?” She didn't look it to him.
“I hope not. The last one was weird. This one is awful.”
“I'm sure you'll see lots more before it's all over. I did. I couldn't keep track of my son's dates for a while. But every time I started to panic about one of them, she vanished.”
“My kids have been that way too. Or Meg has. Wim is usually a little more constant. Or at least he was before he went to college. I hate worrying about them, but I don't want them to end up with the wrong people.”
“They won't. They just need to play first, and experiment a little. My guess is this boy will be gone before you know it.”
“I hope so,” Paris said as they left the table, and then thanked him for taking them all to lunch. She felt as though they had imposed on him somewhat, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he acted as though he liked it, and he said he had been delighted to meet her daughter. Chandler had all the right instincts, and endless thoughtful gestures in his repertoire.
They spent the afternoon looking at art galleries, and went to the L.A. County Museum before going back to the hotel. That night he took her to L'Orangerie for dinner, and ordered caviar for her. There was nothing he didn't do to spoil her. And by the time they got back to the hotel, Paris was happy and relaxed, and had had another wonderful evening. And this time, when he left her at her door, he kissed her long and hard on the mouth, and she didn't resist him. But he made no attempt to go further. And he looked at her with tenderness and regret when he left her.
And as she looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed her hair, she wondered what she was doing. She could feel herself drifting slowly away from Peter. Chandler was the first man she had kissed in twenty-six years other than Peter. And what was worse, she had liked it. She was almost sorry she hadn't stayed in the same room with him. And realizing that kept her nearly sleepless until morning. Although nothing dire had happened yet, she could feel her budding relationship with Chandler slipping slowly out of her control.
Chapter 19
Chandler flew her back to San Francisco at noon on Sunday, after a hearty breakfast at the Bel-Air. And she was home by two-thirty after a magical weekend.
“Now I really do feel like Cinderella,” she said as he carried her bag in. “I'm going to turn into a pumpkin any minute.”
“No, you won't. And if you do, I'll just spirit you away again,” he said, smiling at her. “I'll call you later,” he said, as he kissed her in the doorway, and she hoped no one was looking. She felt more than a little racy, having a man bring her home with a suitcase. But she didn't know who she was hiding from. She didn't know anyone in the neighborhood, and no one cared what she was doing.
And just as he had promised, he called her that evening.
“I miss you,” he said softly, and Paris instantly had butterflies in her stomach. She hated to admit it, but she missed him too, more than she wanted.
“So do I,” she answered.
“When am I going to see you again?” he asked hungrily. “What about tomorrow?”
“I'm working late with Bix,” she said regretfully, and it was true this time. “What about Tuesday?”
“That's perfect. Would you like to see my apartment? I could cook you dinner.”
“You don't have to do that. Or I can help you.”
“I'd love it,” he said, sounding happy, and promised to call her in the morning.
And the next day, at work, Bix was waiting for her like a stern father, and wanted a report.
“So how was it?”
“Terrific. Better than I expected. And he was a perfect gentleman.”
“That's what I was afraid of,” Bix said grimly.
“Why? Did you want him to rape me?” She was in frighteningly good spirits.
“No. But real men aren't perfect gentlemen. They get grumpy and tired. They don't take women shopping. Which reminds me, did he?”
“Yes,” she said, laughing at him, “and he bought me a Chanel handbag.”
“Worse yet. When was the last time a man took you shopping and bought you a Chanel handbag? Did Peter?”
“No. He loathed shopping. He preferred root canal to shopping with me.”
“Precisely. This guy is too smooth, Paris. He scares me. And real guys rip off your clothes. They're klutzes. They don't know all the right moves unless they've done that routine a lot, with a lot of women.”
“I don't think he's a virgin.”
“I hope not. But he sounds like a playboy to me.”
“He says he hasn't met the right woman. He's been dating.”
“I don't buy that. There are a lot of good women out there, dying to meet straight guys. If he wanted to, he could have found one by now.”
“Maybe. From what everyone says, it's not that easy.”
“For a guy like him it is. He's got a Ferrari and a plane, and a lot of money. How hard do you think it would be to find the right woman?”
“Good women don't necessarily want all those things. He's cooking me dinner tomorrow.”
“I'm getting nauseous,” Bix said, sitting back in his chair with a worried look.
“What's wrong with cooking me dinner?”
“Did Peter?” he asked bluntly.
“Not if he could help it.” And then she looked serious for a moment. “Peter left me for another woman. How good was he in the end? Not very.” It was the first time she had said that. “Chandler was in the same boat as I am. I think he's been cautious,” she said fairly. It was beginning to annoy her that Bix was so suspicious of him. Chandler didn't deserve that.
“I think he's been busy. I went out with a guy like that once. He spoiled the hell out of me, and I couldn't understand it. Watches, bracelets, cashmere jackets, trips. I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven, until I figured out that he was sleeping with three other guys, and was the most promiscuous sonofabitch on the planet. He had no soul, no heart, and when he got bored with me, he wouldn't even take my phone calls. I was heartbroken until I figured it out. There was no there there. He was a player. I'm afraid that might be Chandler. Same guy, this one just likes women. Try not to sleep with him too quickly,” he said, and she nodded. In a short time, she and Bixby had become amazingly close, and she loved him. Bix was smart, sensible, and he cared about her. All he wanted to do was protect her, and she appreciated it, but she thought he was wrong about Chandler.