So grab it! He was half out of his chair, reaching for the mouse.
She grabbed it.
He heaved such a sigh she was sure he was wondering what error in his otherwise impeccable judgment had led him to walk up to her workstation yesterday when all around them automatons were chatting with contented-looking clients while quietly doing everything perfectly, serene, unharried smiles painted on their faces.
With the room safely booked, she asked him, Shall I reserve a wedding chapel in Reno?
No. He growled the word. I dont intend to be married by Elvis.
Thats more of a Las Vegas thing, Faith explained.
The answers still no. The ceremony will be here and well fly to Reno. Ill need two limos from the Little Chapel in the Pines to LAX and two waiting at the Reno-Tahoe airport.
One for each of you? It came out like a squeak.
Another sigh. No, one for the crew.
Oh, yes, the crew. It wasnt her place to tell Cabot Drennan she thought his honeymoon plans sounded less than romantic. She went to the Web site of her favorite limousine service, the one with plenty of long, long, white, white cars, which they decorated with flowers when they carried a wedding party.
She frowned. Flowers that would freeze if they had to drive over any mountain passes between the airport and Reno. Maybe they used fake in February. Maybe they used fake all the time. How would she know? Shed never ridden in one.
What are you thinking about besides my limos?
She turned to confront his accusing glare. Fake flowers, she said before she could stop herself.
Good idea, he said. Tell the limo service I want them to cover the lead car in fake flowers.
No problem. Theyd love it.
Then look up the restaurants in the area and choose five of them.
Five? She couldnt help herself.
Two lunches, three dinners. And limos to take us. No flowers.
Oh. She turned to him, wondering if she was doing the right thing. The hotel features twenty-four-hour room service.
Thats very interesting information. Now book the five restaurants.
Wont you at least want breakfast in bed? She was feeling sorrier for Tippy Temples raging hormones by the minute. She knew Tippy Temples hormones had to be raging at the prospect of being Cabots bride, because her own hormones were raging just sitting across from him watching him glower at her.
Okay. Breakfast in the room. After the hairdresser and manicurist leave. Book one of each every morning at seven.
A night with Cabot Drennan could certainly mess a woman up. On the other hand, she couldnt imagine a night with Cabot Drennan would end at seven in the morning.
Coming right up. How about a massage?
Too time-consuming. And I wouldnt want to film it.
It might relax both of you.
Were already relaxed, he said tightly. No massage.
She sighed. Ill get to work on the restaurants.
Nothing exotic. Tippys a salad girl. Meat, potatoes, salad, good wine list. And a bar, he added, sounding glum about the prospect even as he specified it. We need a smoking section.
Tippy smokes? An uneasy feeling slid through her body. She remembered reading something aboutWhen Cabot hesitated, she moved the mouse around and found what she was looking for. Her uneasiness intensified.
No, he said finally. I might want an occasional cigar. Or somebody in the film industry might join us for dinner. You know. Just covering all the bases.
Oh, thank goodness. She expelled a sigh of pure relief. Because the Inn of Dreams advertises itself as Renos only no-smoking hotel. I was worried to death there for a minute.
Stop worrying, Cabot said, his brows drawn together in what Faith would describe as a worried frown. Ill check in with you tomorrow. He got up.
She really hated to see him leave. She really hated thinking she could get all this together by tomorrow. It would take more focusing than she thought she could manage, especially with the elusive scent of his aftershave lingering around her workstation, the daydreams already appearing on the margins of her mind. Daydreams of her sharing this strange, much-too-organized honeymoon and throwing it at once into spontaneous, passionate chaos.
O-kay, she said, feeling warm and dreamy.
His frown deepened. Youve got a funny look in your eyes.
What kind of look? She locked away the daydreams.
Never mind. Its gone. And so was he. She didnt even let her gaze follow him to the door. She didnt have to. Shed already memorized every nuance of his body.
3
IN LOS ANGELES ALONE, forget Pasadena and Malibu and all the other contiguous communities, the ratio of travel agents to customers had to be one to ten, and hed somehow picked the one who made him look at what he did for a living and find it detestable.
Creating an image for a client, a job he was good at, could be described two ways. One was simply bringing out the best in a person.
His father had needed nothing more than some decent promotion. The guy had been a great actor. Hed provided a comfortable living for the family doing bit parts. But hed never made it to the big time. At last hed given up trying, ended up teaching drama at a small Midwestern college and acting with the local community theater. He was the reason Cabot had become a publicist in the first place. Hed wanted to do for actors what he wished someone had done for his father.
Nothing detestable about that.
The other way of describing image making was that you were inventing a whole new person out of lies. Tippy was invented.
Cabot realized he was chewing his nails. Twenty-five dollars for the essential executives manicure these days and he was chewing his nails. He needed to do something with his hands. Of course, he was driving with his hands, but in L.A. that didnt count. He had to call Tippy, but after hed punched her number into his car phone, he was hands-free again.
I want to take you to dinner, he said as soon as hed gotten her on the line.
Shoo-uh, Tippy said, ending with a big popping sound. Where? You gonna get a photographer? Get us in Variety?
That depends, Cabot said mysteriously.
Well, I got a new dress and I wanna be sure were going someplace worth wearing it. She sounded cross.
Wear it. Were going to Spago. The restaurant was always packed with celebrities. Incentive. Thats what he needed here. Motivation.
She cheered up right away. Of course, he also heard the ominous sound of a lighter flicking on and the whoosh of breath that meant shed inhaled a long, satisfying drag from a cigarette.
It would not be an easy evening.
Several hours later he was seated across the table from her. Her streaky blond hair was fluffed out in a cloud that reminded him way too much of Faiths hair and her skin had just the right degree of tan, golden and smooth. Her lipstick was pale. Her fingernails were pale, too, and perfect. She was utterly gorgeous in a dress made of two or three orwell, one too few layers of blue chiffon that made her the focal point of the entire room of beautiful people.
The waiter hovered. Cabot ordered drinks. The second they arrived, Tippy, with extraordinary grace, pulled out a cigarette and held it up expectantly.
The waiter hovered. Cabot ordered drinks. The second they arrived, Tippy, with extraordinary grace, pulled out a cigarette and held it up expectantly.
Were in a no-smoking section, Cabot said.
What the hell were you doing putting us in the no-smoking section? Her face was sweet. Her tone wasnt.
You need to get in training, Cabot said.
What for? She tapped the cigarette on the table.
For the dry run. Were booked into a no-smoking hotel.
So switch hotels.
Cant. Theyre all full. Its the weekend before Valentines Day.
Well, screw em, Tippy said. Put on the pressure. Pay somebody a little cash under the table. Her face was still sweet. She really was one great actress. Only Cabot could see the tic starting to twitch in the corner of her left eye.
Im working with a travel agent, Cabot said. I dont think shes the put-on-the-pressure, a-little-cash-under-the-table kind of person.
Screw her too. She punctuated each word with a jab of her swizzle stick, the one that had come with her extra-dry straight-up martini and had once had olives impaled on it.
Cabot felt a hard red flush of anger rising to his face and squelched it by sheer strength of will. You dont want to do that. Shes one of your biggest fans.
She is? Sudden interest gleamed in the baby blues.
Absolutely. She sees you as the saint, the martyr you played in Kiss. Now Tippy, he said indulgently, a big part of my job is to establish your image in the media minds. Your job is to maintain that image. Have I got this right?
Yeah.
Well, this travel agent believes in your image. She booked the no-smoking hotel by accident, I think. Here Cabot paused for a moment, reflecting that Faith Sumner probably did a good many things by accident. Shed be deeply, deeply disappointed in you if I told her you couldnt make this one little sacrifice, not smoking for a weekend. You might lose a fan. You cant afford to lose a fan. Not even one. This was a subtle reminder that she hadnt made it to the big time yet. There was still room for a little humility, a little accommodation.
She contemplated him coolly, never losing the sweet smile. I think you got a little thing for this travel agent, she said.
The color rose again to Cabots face. Absolutely
Youre not thinkin about backin out on me, are you? Like Josh?
not. Ive made a commitmentto your career. He added after a brief hesitation, And I intend to follow through on it.
Thats a promise.
Yes.
Scouts honor?
Scouts honor.
She gazed at him. Okay, then.
Okay what?
Okay, keep the friggin no-smokin hotel.
Thanks, Cabot said gratefully. I promise you well have a decent time. Ill stock the room with chocolates and
Whaddya mean we?
Pardon?
If you think for one minute Im goin on that dry run with you youre dumber than I figured. Not smoke for a whole weekend? Fageddaboudit.
Tippy Cabot looked up to see a waiter hovering over them. Salads, he said, one Caesar, one Cobb, and bring me the wine list. No, just bring us a bottle of something. I dont suppose you have any hemlock stashed away in the back.
Is that a California, sir, or a French
He was kidding, Tippy said, melting the waiter with a long, long look, then turning the look on Cabot.
It didnt faze him. He glared at her from across the table. You expect me to do the dry run alone? Pose for the video by myself?
Youd look precious in my going-away suit, Tippy said, but no, this is the movies, baby. You take a double.
SO HERE HE WAS AGAIN, back at Wycoff Worldwide and feeling like a fool. But this time, what he had to do wasnt the kind of thing you could do on the phone.
Just to show himself, and her, that it wasnt anything about her that had brought him back, he gave her a scowl as he walked right past her and straight to the head honchos office.
He peered in. Wycoff, a portly man with a bulbous nose, sat behind his desk leafing through travel brochures, like a man planning his own vacation. Harrumph, Cabot said.
Wycoff lifted his head, but he didnt look happy to see Cabot standing there. May I help you? he said in an unhelpful tone.
Yes. Cabot strode in and sat down, refusing to be put off. Names Cabot Drennan. Your agent Faith Sumner is working with me on my honeymoon arrangements and I He paused, fascinated by the dull-red color suffusing Wycoffs face.
Say no more. Ill set you up at once with Miss Eldridge. Miss Eldridge has been with me for thirty years, and she
I dont want Miss Eldridge. I want Miss Sumner. Feeling that a dull red flush might be climbing his face, he added hastily, to go on working with me.
You do? She hasnt somehow booked your cruise on a Russian oil tanker or found you a hotel where an Elderhostel is in session and the food is cafeteria style?
Of course not, Cabot snapped. The man was a pig. He disliked him intensely. Shes been terrific, he lied. Over-the-top. If you had a few more agents like her
Now Wycoff blanched and Cabot decided hed gone too far. Hed only known Faith for two days, but already he could tell he didnt want more than one of her in his life. Although having her in his life would beWhat am I saying? What am I thinking?
What I mean is, he said, starting over, that I have a request that might sound, I mean right at the beginning, until you understand the concept, sort of unusual. Since Wycoffs eyes were darting right and left as if he were looking for help, Cabot barreled right ahead. I want Ms. Sumner to take the honeymoon with me first.
Wycoff lumbered up out of his chair. Mr. Brandon, I must
Drennan, said Cabot.
Mr. Drennan. Wycoff wasnt a whole lot taller standing up than he had been sitting down. Thats what Cabot would call short legs. What you suggest is absolutely out of the question. Its indecent. I could get sued.
For a minute there, Cabot had thought Wycoff actually cared about Faith, in which case, hed try to forgive the man for being a pig. Now he didnt have to. What I mean is that I want her there to check out the arrangements in person, on site. Its called advancing the event, he added in case Wycoff needed a buzz word to make things clear. It would be like standing in for the bride, the way a maid of honor does at the wedding rehearsal. Id want her to take her complaints to the hotel staff, smooth things out before the actual honeymoon.
Wycoff was thinking about it. It was a good sign.
My intended is a film star, Cabot threw into the silence. Wonderful woman, but you know how temperamental actresses can be. I just want things to go well.
A movie star?
Those were magic words in Los Angeles, maybe anywhere. Yes. We havent made the announcement yet, or Id tell you her name.
The mans mouth was clearly watering.
Agent Sumner could do my PR firm a great service, Cabot said solemnly. But of course I wanted to get your approval first. Then you can talk to her, see how she feels about it.