queen.”
“I want you to be happy.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Eve.” He saw the surprise come into her eyes, followed quickly by distress. Biting back an oath, he dropped his hands. “I have something else for you.”
“More?” She tried to keep her voice light. She’d known he desired her, that he was fond of her. But love? She didn’t want him to love when she couldn’t return it. More, she didn’t want to be tempted to try. Her hand wasn’t completely steady when she picked up her champagne. “You’re going to have a hard time topping this necklace.”
“If I know you as well as I think I do, this will top it by a mile.” From the breast pocket of his dinner jacket he took a piece of paper and set it on the bar beside her.
“January 12, ten A.M., Stage 15.” Puzzled, she lifted a brow. “What is this? Clues for a treasure hunt?”
“Your screen test.” He saw her cheeks pale and her eyes darken. Her lips trembled open, but she only shook her head. Understanding perfectly, he smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I thought that would mean more to you than diamonds.” And he knew, already, that once he set her on her way, she would sprint beyond him.
Very carefully she folded the paper and tucked it in her bag. “Thank you, Charlie. I’ll never forget it.”
“I went to bed with him that night,” Eve said quietly. Her voice had thickened, but there were no tears. She no longer shed tears, except on cue. “He was gentle, unbearably sweet, and quite shaken when he discovered he was my first. A woman never forgets the first time. And that memory is precious when the first time is kind. I kept the necklace on while we made love.” She laughed and picked up her cold coffee. “Then we had more champagne and made love again. I like to think I gave him more than sex that night, and the other nights of those few weeks we were lovers. He was thirty-two. The studio press had shaved four years off that, but he told me. There were no lies in Charlie Gray.”
With a sigh she set the coffee aside again and looked down at her hands. “He coached me for the screen test himself. He was a fine actor, continually underrated in his day. Within two months I had a part in his next movie.”
When the silence dragged on, Julia set aside her notebook. She didn’t need it. There was nothing about this morning she would forget.
“Desperate Lives
, with Michael Torrent and Gloria Mitchell. You played Cecily, the sultry villainess who seduced and betrayed Torrent’s idealistic young attorney. One of the most erotic moments onscreen then, or now, was when you walked into his office, sat on his desk, and pulled off his tie.”
“I had eighteen minutes onscreen, and made the best of them. They told me to sell sex, and I sold buckets of it.” She shrugged. “The movie didn’t set the world on fire. Now it plays on cable at three A.M. Still, I made enough of an impression in it that the studio shoved me right into another tramp part. I was Hollywood’s newest sex symbol—making them a mint because I was on a contract player’s salary. But I don’t resent it, even today. I got quite a bit out of that first movie.”
“Including a husband.”
“Ah, yes, my first mistake.” She gave a careless shrug and a thin smile. “Christ, Michael had a beautiful face. But the mind of a sheep. When we were in the sack, things were fine. Try to have a conversation? Shit.” Her fingers began to drum on the rosewood. “Charlie had it all over him as an actor, but Michael had the face, the presence. It still annoys me to think I was stupid enough to believe the jerk had any connection with the men he played onscreen.”
“And Charlie Gray?” Julia watched Eve’s face carefully. “He committed suicide.”
“His finances were a mess, and his career had stalled. Still, it was difficult for anyone to believe it was mere coincidence that he shot himself the day I married Michael
“I want you to be happy.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Eve.” He saw the surprise come into her eyes, followed quickly by distress. Biting back an oath, he dropped his hands. “I have something else for you.”
“More?” She tried to keep her voice light. She’d known he desired her, that he was fond of her. But love? She didn’t want him to love when she couldn’t return it. More, she didn’t want to be tempted to try. Her hand wasn’t completely steady when she picked up her champagne. “You’re going to have a hard time topping this necklace.”
“If I know you as well as I think I do, this will top it by a mile.” From the breast pocket of his dinner jacket he took a piece of paper and set it on the bar beside her.
“January 12, ten A.M., Stage 15.” Puzzled, she lifted a brow. “What is this? Clues for a treasure hunt?”
“Your screen test.” He saw her cheeks pale and her eyes darken. Her lips trembled open, but she only shook her head. Understanding perfectly, he smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I thought that would mean more to you than diamonds.” And he knew, already, that once he set her on her way, she would sprint beyond him.
Very carefully she folded the paper and tucked it in her bag. “Thank you, Charlie. I’ll never forget it.”
“I went to bed with him that night,” Eve said quietly. Her voice had thickened, but there were no tears. She no longer shed tears, except on cue. “He was gentle, unbearably sweet, and quite shaken when he discovered he was my first. A woman never forgets the first time. And that memory is precious when the first time is kind. I kept the necklace on while we made love.” She laughed and picked up her cold coffee. “Then we had more champagne and made love again. I like to think I gave him more than sex that night, and the other nights of those few weeks we were lovers. He was thirty-two. The studio press had shaved four years off that, but he told me. There were no lies in Charlie Gray.”
With a sigh she set the coffee aside again and looked down at her hands. “He coached me for the screen test himself. He was a fine actor, continually underrated in his day. Within two months I had a part in his next movie.”
When the silence dragged on, Julia set aside her notebook. She didn’t need it. There was nothing about this morning she would forget.
“Desperate Lives
, with Michael Torrent and Gloria Mitchell. You played Cecily, the sultry villainess who seduced and betrayed Torrent’s idealistic young attorney. One of the most erotic moments onscreen then, or now, was when you walked into his office, sat on his desk, and pulled off his tie.”
“I had eighteen minutes onscreen, and made the best of them. They told me to sell sex, and I sold buckets of it.” She shrugged. “The movie didn’t set the world on fire. Now it plays on cable at three A.M. Still, I made enough of an impression in it that the studio shoved me right into another tramp part. I was Hollywood’s newest sex symbol—making them a mint because I was on a contract player’s salary. But I don’t resent it, even today. I got quite a bit out of that first movie.”
“Including a husband.”
“Ah, yes, my first mistake.” She gave a careless shrug and a thin smile. “Christ, Michael had a beautiful face. But the mind of a sheep. When we were in the sack, things were fine. Try to have a conversation? Shit.” Her fingers began to drum on the rosewood. “Charlie had it all over him as an actor, but Michael had the face, the presence. It still annoys me to think I was stupid enough to believe the jerk had any connection with the men he played onscreen.”
“And Charlie Gray?” Julia watched Eve’s face carefully. “He committed suicide.”
“His finances were a mess, and his career had stalled. Still, it was difficult for anyone to believe it was mere coincidence that he shot himself the day I married Michael
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