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He clasped his hands to his chest and sighed. “What color Ferrari do you want?”
Giggling, Janie bounced in place, her pale-yellow hair sweeping across her shoulders. “Do they come in hot pink?”
“I’ll have it covered in pink rhinestones, if you want.”
Eric bent down to give his daughter a hug. It felt natural, comfortable. He and Janie clicked, and for that he was grateful. As he knelt down to say goodbye, he wished with all of his heart he could get past the feeling of betrayal and hurt he still harbored toward his child’s mother.
Jenna stood by, silent, her face frozen into a forced looking smile. When the trio walked outside, Janie trotted off to the limousine to say goodbye to Nick, but Eric held out his hand to stop Jenna from following. “Got a sec?”
“Sure.”
He stared at the ground, speaking more to his shoes than to her. “My lawyers have worked out a settlement that Bree has accepted. I have to meet with my manager and then a real estate agent to put my Pacific Palisades house on the market. I should be back in a few weeks.”
“Janie will be glad.”
Lifting his head he met Jenna’s eyes. They shone golden in the spring sunshine, her dark lashes framing the faceted gleam. They were luminous, or maybe shining with the beginning of tears.
“I’ll miss her,” he said. “Maybe we can come to some sort of schedule for the summer. I’d like to take her to North Carolina for a visit if that’s okay with you.”
Though her face appeared to pale, Jenna nodded her agreement.
“I…I wish things were different,” he said. The admission was genuine. Eric had been struggling with his feelings since learning the truth, torn by what he wanted and what weighed against his heart.
Lifting her shoulders, Jenna met his look with a blank yet considerate gaze. “You can’t help the way you feel.”
“I’m sorry.” He took her face in his hands and softly kissed her. “I still love you. That hasn’t changed. That will never change. But I just can’t think about you and me right now. I wish I could.”
A cloud passed overhead and masked the buttercup brilliance of the sun. For a moment all the colors of spring—grass, garden blooms, and sky washed gray. “I asked you to forgive me, and you can’t. I understand. Have a safe flight. I’m going to say goodbye to Nick.”
Jenna jogged down the driveway and away from him.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Eric Laine’s life as a movie star resumed the moment his plane touched down at Burbank Airport. There was something about being in Los Angeles that brought a certain brilliance to his life. In Cromline he could pretend to be a nonentity, just a regular guy banging a hammer. But in L.A. he could be nothing less than a celebrity of the highest magnitude. He wanted no part of it. For the first time in his career as an actor, he snubbed the fans that followed him. He refused to acknowledge the crowd chaperoning him to his limousine.
One of Nick’s cars whisked him to Jack’s estate where the staff gave him the usual five-star treatment.
“Welcome back, Mr. Laine.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Laine?”
Just leave me alone, was what he wanted to say.
Later that day, he sat through a meeting with his attorneys, met with his agent, and reluctantly signed on to present an award for something that escaped his memory the moment he agreed to do it. None of it was what he wanted. What hewantedwas another slice of Ina’s pie. Hewantedto eat it while he watched the sun set over hills ripe with waves of spring grass yet to be cut. Hewantedto know his daughter was scrambling to do her homework because she was expecting his visit. Hewantedto fall into an exhausted, peaceful sleep because he was spent from a day of hard work, a belly full of good food, and a night of love making in the arms of the woman he adored. Hewantedto get beyond the disappointment and beat back the feeling of betrayal that stubbornly refused to surrender, but he couldn’t. And until he did, he was never going to have what hewanted.
****
After another restless night, he readied himself for his divorce hearing. He straightened his tie, almost adding a gold tie clip with a mother-of-pearl inlay, until he remembered it was a gift from the woman he was on his way to disentangle himself from. He should have been feeling relieved to be finally gaining his freedom, but divorce number two was a reminder of another failure.
A light rap sounded at the door. “Knock, knock.” It was Jack. “My people treating you okay here?”
“Better than the staff at a five-star hotel.”
“You don’t look like a man happy to be living in the lap of luxury.”
Eric crooked his head around at a space filled with furniture covered in gem hued velvets arranged atop luxe Persian carpets. Yards of silk flanked the windows. The Morrissey guest cottage looked like a harem’s tent. “Luxury is overrated.”
“Tell that to the poor shmuck who gets his water from the faucet,” Jack chided.
