“What are you afraid of, Grace?” he asked gently. She had fear stamped all over her, and she knew it.
“I'm afraid … oh I don't know,” she was embarrassed to tell him but she knew she had to, for her own sake, “that he'll be like everyone else in my life and take advantage of me, or worse. I finally got away from all that when I came here, and now it's starting all over again with this stupid trip to California.”
“Has he ever shown signs of wanting to take advantage of you?” Father Tim asked quietly, “or of sexual interest in you?” He knew exactly what they were talking about and what she was afraid of.
“Not really,” she conceded, still looking miserable.
“Even a little bit? Be honest with yourself. You know the truth here.”
“All right, no, not even a little bit.”
“Then what makes you think that's going to change now?”
“I don't know. People don't take their secretaries on trips unless they want to … you know.” He smiled at her discretion in talking to him. He had heard a lot worse in his life, and a lot more shocking stories. Even her own story wouldn't have shocked him.
“Some people do take their secretaries on trips without ‘you know.’ Maybe he really does need help. And if he misbehaves, you're a big girl, get on a plane and come home. End of story.”
“I guess I could do that.” She thought about it and nodded.
“You're in control, you know. That's what we teach people here. You know that better than anyone. You can walk away anytime you want to.”
“Okay. Maybe I'll go with him.” She sighed and looked at him gratefully, still not totally convinced though.
“Do whatever you think is right, Grace. But don't make decisions out of fear. They never get you anywhere you want to go. Just do what's right for you.”
“Thank you, Father.” The next morning she told Charles Mackenzie that she was definitely able to go to California with him. She still had misgivings about the trip, but she had told herself repeatedly that if he misbehaved, all she had to do was buy herself a ticket and come home. Simple as that, and she had a credit card with which to do it.
He picked her up in a limousine on the way to the airport, and she came out carrying a small bag and looking very nervous. He had a briefcase with him, and he made calls from the car, and jotted down some notes for her. And then he chatted with her for a few minutes and read the paper. He didn't seem particularly interested in her, and she could tell that one of his phone calls had been to a woman. She knew that there was a well-known socialite who called him fre-quently at the office, and he sounded as though he liked her. But Grace didn't get the feeling that he was madly in love with anyone at the moment.
They flew to Los Angeles in first class, and he worked most of the way there, while Grace watched the movie. He was going out to help put together the financial end of a big movie deal for one of his clients. The client had an entertainment lawyer on the West Coast, but Mackenzie represented the big money in the deal, and it was interesting watching him put it together.
It was even more interesting once they got to L.A. They arrived at noon, local time, and went straight to the offices of the entertainment lawyer, and Grace was fascinated by the meetings that took place all day. They were there till six o'clock, which was nine o'clock for her and Charles Mackenzie. He had a dinner date after that, and he dropped her off at the hotel, and told her to charge anything she wanted to the room. They were staying at the Beverly Hills Hotel, and she had to admit she was excited by four movie stars she saw just passing through the lobby.
She tried to get David Glass's number that night, but he wasn't listed in Beverly Hills or L.A. And she was disappointed. She hadn't heard from him in years, but she would have loved to try to see him. She had a feeling, though, that his wife had wanted him to break the connection with her. She'd divined that just from little things he'd said in his letters. And now she hadn't heard from him at all since the birth of their first baby. It would have been nice to tell him that she was doing well, had a good job, and was happy with her new life. She hoped that all was well with him and was sorry that she couldn't reach him. She still thought of him sometimes, and now and then she missed him.
She ordered room service and watched TV, and ordered a movie she had wanted to see for years but never had time to. It was a comedy, and she laughed out loud alone in her room, and then locked all the windows and doors and even put the chain on the door. She half expected him to pound on her door when he got back, and try to get in, but she slept soundly until seven the next morning.
He called and asked her to meet him in the dining room, and at breakfast he explained the meetings that would take place that day, and what he expected her to do. Like her, he was extremely organized, and he enjoyed his work, and always made hers easier by telling her exactly what was expected.
“You did a great job yesterday,” he praised her, looking very proper in a gray suit and a starched white shirt. He looked more like New York than LA. She had worn a pink silk dress and she had a matching sweater over her shoulders. It was a dress she had bought two years before in Chicago, and it was a little softer-looking than most of the clothes she wore to work at the law firm.
“You look very pretty today,” he said casually, and she stiffened imperceptibly, but he didn't see it. “Did you see any movie stars in the lobby last night?” And then, forgetting his remark about how she looked, she told him excitedly about the four she'd seen, and the movie that had made her laugh so hard when she watched it. For a brief instant, they were almost friends, and he sensed it. She had relaxed a little bit, which made things easier for him. It was so difficult being with her when she was so uptight, he wondered why she was like that sometimes, but he would never have dared to ask her.
“I love that movie,” he laughed, thinking about it. “I saw it three times when it first came out. I hate depressing movies.”
“So do I,” she admitted as their breakfast came. He was eating scrambled eggs and bacon, and she had oatmeal.
“You don't eat enough,” he said sounding fatherly, watching her.
“You should watch your cholesterol,” she chided, although he was very thin, but eggs and bacon were out of favor.
“Oh God, spare me. My wife was a vegetarian, and a Buddhist. All of Hollywood is. It was worth getting divorced just so I could eat cheeseburgers in peace again.” He smiled at Grace and she laughed in spite of herself.
“Were you married for a long time?”
“Long enough,” he grinned. “Seven years.” He had been divorced for two. It had cost him nearly a million dollars to get out of it, but at the time it had seemed worth it, in spite of the economic stress it had caused him. No one had snagged his heart seriously since, and the only thing he really regretted was never having children. “I was thirty-three when I married her, and at the time, I was sure that being married to Michelle Andrews was the answer to all my prayers. It turned out that being married to America's hottest movie star wasn't as easy as I thought. Those people pay a high price for celebrity. Higher than the rest of us know. The press is never kind to them, the public wants to own their souls … there's no way to survive it, except religion or drugs, and either way is not an ideal solution, as far as I'm concerned. Every time we turned around there was another headline, another scandal. It was tough to live with, and eventually it takes a toll. We're good friends now, but three years ago we weren't.” Grace knew from People magazine that she had been married twice since, to a younger rock star, and her agent. “Besides, I was too square for her. Too stiff. Too boring.” Grace suspected that he had offered his former wife the only stability she'd ever had, or would have. “What about you? Married? Engaged? Divorced seven times? How old are you anyway, I forget. Twenty-three?”