The Wedding Read online

  “What's up?”

  “I just got a death threat.” She was sobbing, and she said she wanted to move back to Oregon. But hers wasn't a career that would easily disappear. She had movie contracts now, and the entire world wanted a piece of Carmen Connors.

  Allegra frowned as she listened. “How did you get it? Try to calm down and tell me.”

  “It came in the mail. I forgot to open my mail today, and I just got home from dinner, so I opened it, and there it was. It says”—she dissolved in floods of tears again—” it says that I'm a bitch and I don't deserve to live another hour. This guy says he knows I'm cheating on him and I'm a whore, and he's going to get me.”

  Oh, God, Allegra thought to herself. Those were the ones you had to worry about. The ones who imagined they had a relationship, or a right, and had somehow been wronged. They were the real ones, but she didn't want to frighten Carmen any further. “This doesn't sound like anyone you know, does it? Anyone you went out with, and who might be angry you don't want to go out with him again?” It was at least worth the question, although she knew how circumspect Carmen was. Despite the tabloid stories, Carmen lived like the Virgin Mary.

  “I haven't had a date in eight months,” she said unhappily, “and the last two guys I went out with have both gotten married.”

  “That's what I figured. Okay, let's calm down. Turn on the alarm,” she said calmly, as though talking to a child.

  “I did.”

  “Good. Call the security guard at the gate and tell him about the letter. I'll call the police and the FBI, and we'll meet with them tomorrow. There's not much point doing anything tonight, but I'll let them know. LAPD can put passing calls past your house every half hour. Why don't you take one of the dogs into the house with you tonight, just so you feel better?”

  “I can't…. I'm scared of them,” Carmen said nervously, and Allegra laughed, which relieved the tension.

  “That's my point. They'd scare anyone. At least keep them loose on the property. You know, I think it's all probably bullshit anyway, but it doesn't do any harm to be careful.”

  “Why do they do things like this?” Carmen wailed. She had had threats before, and they terrified her, but no one had ever actually tried to harm her. It was just talk, and every celebrity Allegra knew of had had threats at some point or other. It just went with the territory, but it was never pleasant. Her own parents had had them too, and there had been a kidnapping threat against Sam when she was eleven. Her mother had hired a bodyguard for her for six months, and he drove everyone nuts, watching TV night and day, and spilling coffee all over the carpets. But if she had to, Allegra would hire one for Carmen. In fact, she wanted to hire one for her for the Golden Globes. There were two she particularly liked, and used fairly often, and one of them was a woman.

  “They're just stupid, Carmen. They want attention, and they think that if they try to get close enough to you, they'll get a little piece of the limelight. It's a sick way to do it, but try not to let it upset you too much. I'm going to try to get you a couple of people for tomorrow night, a woman and a man, it'll just look like you're with another couple,” Allegra said reassuringly. She had handled a lot of these situations for other clients, and she was very soothing.

  “Maybe I just won't go,” Carmen said nervously. “What if somebody shoots me at the awards?” She started to cry again and whimper about going back to Portland.

  “No one is going to shoot you at the awards ceremony. Come on, you can come with us. Who's your date?”

  “Some guy named Michael Guiness. The studio paired me off with him. I've never even met him.” She sounded disgusted, but Allegra was quick to encourage her.

  “I have. He's okay.” He was gay, and very presentable, and one of their up-and-coming young actors, and they probably thought that being with Carmen Connors would be good for his image. The fact that he was gay was a fairly well kept secret. “I'll take care of everything. You just relax and try to get some sleep.” She knew that Carmen sat up all night sometimes, watching old movies on TV, because she was scared, or lonely.

  “Who are you going with?” Carmen asked casually, assuming it was Brandon. She had met him once or twice, and she thought he was respectable, but boring. She was surprised at Allegra's answer.

  “I'm going with an old buddy from school, Alan Carr,” Allegra said offhandedly. She was making notes to herself about calling the police and the FBI in the morning.

  “Oh, my God!” Carmen said, sounding dumbstruck. “The Alan Carr? Are you kidding? You went to school with him}”

  “The one and only,” Allegra said, amused at her reaction. It happened often.

  “I've seen all his movies.”

  “So have I, and believe me, some of them are rotten.” Some of them were great though, and she knew it. “I keep telling him he needs a new agent, but Alan is very stubborn.”

  “Oh, my God, he's gorgeous.”

  “Better than that, he's a nice guy. You'll like him.” She wondered if Alan would like Carmen. Maybe they'd hit it off at the awards, which would be kind of fun for all of them. “We'll go out for a drink or something afterward, and we'll drive you and Michael to the awards if you like.”

  “I'd love that.” She was sounding a whole lot happier by the time they hung up, and Allegra sat and stared out the window for a while, thinking about how odd life was. The biggest sex symbol in America hadn't had a date in eight months, and was getting death threats from lunatics who thought they owned her. There was something very wrong with that, to say the least. And here Carmen was impressed that Allegra knew Alan Carr. It really was all a little topsy-turvy.

  When she finished talking to Carmen, she looked at her watch. They had talked for more than an hour. It was close to midnight, and Allegra was almost afraid to call Brandon again by then, but she decided to anyway. He had probably returned her call when she was on the phone with Carmen. But when she dialed the hotel again, he was still out, and she left him another message, this time asking him to call her.

  She went to bed at one o'clock, and she still hadn't heard from Brandon, but she didn't want to try again. She was beginning to feel foolish, and she did everything she could to put Sam's words out of her mind. She didn't know what Brandon was doing, though she was certain he was not sleeping with Joanie. But she couldn't imagine what he was doing at that hour in San Francisco. It was a sleepy little town, and from what she'd seen of it, they rolled up the sidewalks at nine or ten o'clock. He certainly wasn't in a nightclub. He was probably just arguing with her about the house or the condo near Tahoe. Sam had had no right to say things like that about him. She was still furious when she thought about it. Why was everyone always so disagreeable about him? And why did she always have to stick up for him and answer people's questions about his behavior?

  The phone never rang and she finally drifted off to sleep about two o'clock in the morning. But it did ring at four, and she leapt to her feet with her heart pounding, thinking it was him. But it was Carmen. She had heard a noise, and she was terrified. She was whispering into the phone, and she was so scared she hardly made sense. It took nearly an hour to calm her down again, and Allegra wondered if she should just go over there. But Carmen insisted she was okay by then. It was five A.M., and she was embarrassed to have called, but Allegra reassured her that it wasn't a problem.

  “Get some sleep or you'll look like hell tonight at the awards, and you're probably going to win, so you'd better look good. Now go back to bed,” Allegra said, sounding like a big sister.

  “Okay.” Carmen laughed, feeling like a little kid. And five minutes after she turned off the light, Allegra was asleep. She was exhausted. She didn't stir until eight o'clock in the morning, when Brandon called and woke her.

  “Were you up?” Brandon asked, as she tried to sound as though she'd been awake, and then groaned when she saw the clock. She'd had less than five hours sleep all night, and she felt it.

  “Several times, actually,” she said, regainin
g her composure. “Carmen had a little problem.”

  “Oh, for chrissake, I don't know why you put up with that nonsense. You ought to get an answering service, or just turn your phone off.” It wasn't the way she was made, or the nature of her business, but he had never understood that.

  “It's all right. I'm used to it. She had a death threat,” and as she glanced at the clock again at eight oh five, she remembered that she had to call the police and the FBI to report it. She was going to have a busy morning. “Where were you last night?” Allegra tried to keep a tone of accusation out of her voice, and not to remember Sam's words of warning as she asked him.

  “Out with some friends. What was the big deal? How come you called me twice?”

  “Nothing,” she said, feeling immediately defensive. “I just wanted to check in and say hi. I thought you were seeing the kids last night.” If he wasn't, why did he have to leave for San Francisco on Friday?”

  “I was, but the flight got in late, and Joanie said they'd had a long day, so I called a couple of guys I used to work with. We hit the bars and just got to talking.” Sometimes she forgot that he used to live there. “I thought maybe something was wrong when I got in and saw you'd called, but I figured you'd be asleep by then. I guess I could just act like your clients and call anytime, day or night.” He strongly disapproved of the calls she got late at night, but most of her clients only did that when they felt they really had to.

  “It sounds like you're having a good time,” she said, trying not to sound as angry or disappointed as she was.

  “It's okay. Sometimes it's fun being back here. Last night was a kick with the guys. I haven't done the bar scene here in ages.” It didn't appeal to her, but it was probably amusing for him to catch up with his friends. He worked so hard, he didn't do things like that very often. “I'm picking the girls up at nine. I promised them we'd go to Sausalito and maybe Stinson for the day. It's too bad you couldn't be here,” he said, sounding warmer again.

  “I'm going to have to see the police for Carmen this morning, and probably the FBI, since the letter came in the mail, and then I've got the awards tonight.”

  “That ought to be entertaining,” he said, sounding completely disengaged, as though it had never been part of the plan for him to be there. “How was dinner last night?”

  “Okay. The usual. The Steinbergs at their best and worst. Scott came home, so that was nice. Sam is getting a little big for her britches, these days. I guess it's the age, but I can't say I'm crazy about it.”

  “That's because your mother lets her do anything she wants. If you ask me, that's the surest way to wind up with a spoiled brat, and she's getting a little old for that. I'm surprised your father doesn't put his foot down.” She thought that Brandon was being a little harsh, and although she didn't completely disagree with him, she was nonetheless surprised that he was so willing to criticize her siblings. She was always especially careful not to say anything less than nattering about his children.

  “My father worships her. And she's been doing more modeling lately too. That probably gives her a fat head, and makes her think she can say anything she wants.” She was still thinking about Sam's comments the night before, and now she was doubly annoyed at Sam for making her worry for nothing. It was interesting, though, that she had actually gotten to her, but Allegra knew it was only because she was so unhappy about his going to San Francisco for the weekend.

  “She'll get into trouble with her modeling one of these days. One of the photographers will come on to her, or they'll offer her drugs. I think that whole scene is unhealthy for her. I'm surprised your parents are willing to let her do it.” To Brandon, it was all about the evils of show business, in all its forms and variations. It was something he emphatically disapproved of. And he frequently said that he would never let his girls model, or act, or do anything that involved putting them in the public eye. He always made it clear to Allegra that he thought their business was seamy and very unappealing, in spite of the fact that her parents had done extremely well at it, and she obviously enjoyed it.

  “You could be right,” she said diplomatically, wondering if they were just too different, or if it was because he was away, and she felt as though he had let her down. Sometimes it was hard to know, even after two years, if this was the right choice for her. Most of the time, she thought he was right for her, and then occasionally, like now, she felt as though they were strangers.

  “I'd better go pick up the girls,” he said, and then pacified her with, “I'll call you tonight.”

  “I'll be at the Golden Globes,” she reminded him gently.

  “That's right. I forgot,” he said, and the way he said it made her want to hit him. “I'll call you tomorrow morning.”

  “Thanks.” And then, hating herself for it, she added, “I'm sorry you won't be there.”

  “You'll have fun anyway. I guess Alan Carr is a better date for that kind of thing than I am. At least he knows who he's talking to. I don't. Just make sure he behaves, and tell him you're my girl, Allie. No funny stuff,” he said, and she smiled, faintly mollified again. He meant well, and he loved her, he just didn't get how important the awards ceremonies were to her. They were her life, they were important to her family, and to her business.

  “I'll miss you. And just for the record, I'd rather be going with you than Alan.”

  “I'll try to make it next year, baby, I promise.” He even sounded as though he meant it.

  “All right,” she said, wishing he were there in bed with her. At least that was one area where she never felt the differences, but only the similarities, between them. Sexually, they got on extremely well. And eventually, the rest would probably smooth out too. Divorces were never easy. “Have a nice time with the girls, sweetheart. And tell them I miss them.”

  “I will. Talk to you tomorrow. I'll look for you on the news tonight.” But she laughed at him. She'd be the last person he'd see. She wasn't a nominee, or a presenter, she was just one of the insignificant masses as far as the news cameras were concerned, unless they caught a glimpse of her as one of her parents won, or maybe Carmen. But they narrowed in pretty tight for the shots of the winners. The only thing that might attract attention to her was being Alan Carr's date, but as a relative unknown, she doubted if even that would get her on camera. She seriously doubted that Brandon would see her.

  They hung up after that, and she felt better after talking to him. Sometimes he just didn't understand her milieu, and he'd been slow at sorting his life out, but he was a great guy, and she was always having to explain to everyone that she really loved him. It was a shame they didn't see his virtues as clearly as she did.

  She got up and put a pot of coffee on, and then she called the police, the FBI, the security firm that covered Carmen's house, and eventually she met with all of them at Carmen's, and Allegra was satisfied that everything possible was being done to protect her. She had contacted both of her favorite bodyguards, Bill Frank and Gayle Watels, who had retired from the LAPD SWAT team, and fortunately both of them were free and had agreed to work with Carmen for a while. They were going to the awards ceremony with her that night, and Carmen was relieved to know she'd be so well protected. Allegra had sent Gayle to Fred Hayman for a dress, which was no easy task, since it had to conceal her holster, and all of her weapons. But the ladies at Fred Hayman were used to unusual assignments.

  Allegra managed to get home at four-fifteen, while the hairdresser and makeup artist worked with Carmen, and she barely had time to shower and do her own hair, and slip into the long, slinky black dress she had bought to wear for the occasion. It was quiet and discreet, but beautifully cut and very striking. It had been designed by Ferre, and had a fabulous white organdy coat covering it, and she wore the pearl and diamond earrings her father had bought her for her twenty-fifth birthday. Her long, silky blond hair was piled high on her head, in gently cascading rolls and curls, and she looked sexy and sensuous when Alan Carr arrived, looking breathtaking in a
new Armani tuxedo. He was wearing a white silk shirt with a narrow collar and no tie, and his dark hair was slicked back. He looked even better than he had in his last half dozen pictures.

  “Wow!” he said, before she could say the same. She had a slit in her dress all the way up one leg that revealed a pair of black lacy stockings, and she was wearing high-heeled black satin sandals. “Am I supposed to behave myself with you looking like that?” he asked, pretending to be incredulous, and she laughed as she kissed him. He could smell her perfume on her neck and in her hair, and as he had before, he asked himself why he had never tried to rekindle their old flame in recent years. He was beginning to think their time had come again, and to hell with Brandon Edwards.

  “Thank you, sir. You look very handsome yourself,” she said, admiring him with genuine affection. “You really do look good, you know.”

  “You're not supposed to look so surprised,” he said, chuckling. “It's not polite.”

  “I just forget how good-looking you are sometimes. I kind of think of you the way I do Scott—you know, just a big kid, in ripped jeans and dirty sneakers.”

  “You're breaking my heart. Just shut up. I love the way you look,” he said admiringly, his voice suddenly soft, his eyes filled with something she hadn't seen since they were fourteen, and she knew she wasn't ready to see again. She just pretended not to notice. “Shall we go?” he asked, as she picked up a small black evening bag with a pearl-and-rhinestone clasp. Everything about the way she looked was perfect. And they made a staggeringly handsome couple. She also knew that being with him meant that they would be constantly hounded by the press. They would want to know who she was, and whether or not to start a flood of new rumors about his love life.