Secrets by Danielle Steel Page B

worry about anything. He took care of everything for her, their bills, their life, he told her who to see, what she could do, what to wear. He molded her into his perfect fantasy, and the only thing that wasn't part of it was the love she had for the work she'd done. Sometimes she'd talk longingly about going back to work again, but he would hear none of it.
    You don't belong there anymore. You never did. His voice was harsh when he spoke of it. That's a world of tramps and leeches. She hated when he talked like that. She'd loved the world of Hollywood, she still missed some of her friends, and he never let her see them. All of her old roommates had drifted away, and when he saw her writing a Christmas card to her agent once, he threw it out. Forget it, Jane. That's all over now. He wanted it to be. Desperately. He wanted her to forget all of it ' even the parts she'd loved ' the people she'd known ' the dreams she'd had' . Alyssa was only three when a man in a supermarket had handed her a card. He was a talent scout for some agency, and it was like the old days of Hollywood. He invited her to come to his office for a screen test, and she laughed. She'd heard plenty of that in the old days, especially when she first got to L.A. But she was surprised at how insistent he was, but she never called him, and threw away his card eventually. But he had stirred forces in her she had quelled for too long. She called her old agent one day, just to say hello, to see how he was, and he begged her to come back. He said he could find work for her. And six months later, when she was shopping in L.A., she dropped in to see him, just for the hell of it. He threw his arms around her, and begged her to let him take some photographs. She even sent him a few other snapshots after that, and then the big decision came, four months afterwards. He had a part for her. On a soap opera, he said. It was perfect for her. She tried to laugh it off, but he wouldn't let her off the hook. He begged her to audition for it, just for practice he said, for old times' sake, for the hell of it ' for him ' for yourself ' for all that hard work you did ten years ago ' She lay in bed at night, thinking about it, wishing she could try out, worrying about what Jack would say. She tried to mention it to him, but there was nowhere to start, no way to explain the emptiness she felt, the loneliness with the children at school. But all he wanted from her was between her legs. He wouldn't listen to her. He never talked to her. No one did. And ten years later, he was as hungry for her as he had been when they first met, and she knew she should be grateful for it. Her friends complained that their husbands paid no attention to them, never wanted to make love, had no interest in them sexually ' and here she was with a man who was insatiable, he whispered things like I'm gonna fuck your brains out tonight ' over the children's heads, and she was always terrified they would hear. But she couldn't talk to him. He had no idea what was in her head, her heart ' her soul ' but her agent knew too well. He had seen it all in her eyes the day she'd dropped in on him in L.A., and he wasn't going to let her go again. She had something he knew he could sell, always had had, and it was more than sex appeal. There was a humanity to Jane, a decency, a warmth, she was motherly and yet the sexiest broad he'd seen in years, like Marilyn Monroe with kids, she appealed to women and men, and he'd never met anyone who wasn't drawn to her. She had a kind of inner warmth that drew people like babies looking for a teddy bear ' and what a teddy bear, she made the term tits and ass sound bleak. There was so much more to her.
    She went to the audition, finally, on a hot day in June, although they were trying out for a different part by the time she went. And she insisted on going in a black wig she'd bought. When Lou saw her afterwards, he whistled and then erupted in a big happy grin. She looked like a