MOLLY & CRUZ: The Collection. Includes Duets, Molly Harper and December Wedding.

By Emelle Gamble

MOLLY & CRUZ is a collection of two novellas and one full-length novel starring academy-award winning actress, Molly Harper, and her on-again, off-again true love, literature professor Cruz Morales. This women's fiction saga explores not only the two decade long love affair between Molly and Cruz, but also Molly Harper's compelling personal story. Living in the public eye, in these three stories Molly Harper will navigate marriage, divorce, scandal and heartbreak as well as the revelation of the secret which intersects the lives of two other women, Norma Wintz, Molly's mother and her greatest ally, and Anne Sullivan, a newcomer to Molly’s life.

All three of these women are plunged into turmoil when the most intimate of ties between the three is uncovered. How each of these characters handles the resulting upheaval in their own life, and in their relationships with one another, forms the compelling story of family, secrets and trust in the collection, Molly & Cruz.

5 Stars! "Molly Harper" is no flighty cotton-candy novel. It's intense, tumultuous, and contemplative. It forces the reader to delve into the depths of their heart and examine the actions of their past. The characters and plot lines are vibrant, full, and believable--and not just the main ones....It's absolutely superb and creates the unique ebbs and flows of the adventurous tide her novel rides upon. It's quite remarkable. It's so good you don't notice it. And that's the point." Sofia St. Angeles InD'tale Magazine March 2015

"MOLLY HARPER ...is the first book I've read by this author, but it won't be my last! Ms. Gamble does a wonderful job of drawing these characters and making them just leap off the page." Long and Short Reviews

"I rarely gush over a book these days. I read at least one, sometimes two books a day and so I can be hard to move. But, this one really got to me... you do not want to miss... Molly Harper." Clue Review

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emelle Gamble
• Release date: Jul 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311251213

Emelle Gamble

My books have one thing in common...ordinary women in extraordinary situations. They are all relationship stories about women and the men they love, and the friends they hold dearest. They also all have a touch of something else; a mystery here, a ghost there, an exciting or shocking turn of events. This gives the folks in my imagined world an interesting extra conflict to deal with, and my readers an extra issue to think about.SECRET SISTER is a woman's fiction novel with a touch of paranormal that sets the plot in motion. It's hard to put down once you start.DUETS, a prequel novella, and the novel MOLLY HARPER, set three years later, explore the multi-faceted impact family secrets have on the lives of three women and the people who love them. It's heartfelt. and the final chapter is now available! DECEMBER WEDDING is the last chapter about Cruz and Molly, and I hope you enjoy their happy ever after.DATING CARY GRANT is a modern Manhattan tale of a career woman, her estranged small town mayor hubby, and a certain drop-dead handsome neighbor who just might be the ghost of a certain screen icon. It's fun!I hope you enjoy all these stories. Please come see me at www.EmelleGamble.com, follow me on Twitter @EmelleGamble or email me at [e-mail] any time.

Book preview

By

Emelle Gamble

Dedication

With love for Lorraine Dorothy Curran Hagood Gamble,

a rose by any name...

Chapter One

Los Angeles

July 31, 2010 2 p.m

He’s not what you think."

Molly Harper turned away at these words, knowing they more than likely preceded an indictment of her fiancé. Keep from showing you’re hurt, she told herself. But she knew disappointment had flashed in her eyes, and that her mother had seen it.

Ben’s not what I think? Molly stared outside as the limousine she and Norma rode in glided down Wilshire Boulevard, five miles from the brick–paved road leading to her mother’s neighborhood. "Why don’t you tell me what you think I think he is?"

You think he’s a man like your father, a man inclined to put his wife’s well–being and his children’s needs before his own. Ben Delmonico is not that kind of man, Norma said.

She turned and faced her mother. I don’t think you know Ben well enough to say that. And honestly, I wish you had a little more faith in me. I gave this a lot of thought before I decided to marry him.

A lot of thought? You told me five minutes ago you said ‘yes’ the same night Ben proposed. I think you’ve agreed to marry him because you’re panicking.

Molly sighed. She’d hoped Norma would be delighted by the news she was marrying a successful man, the gorgeous, Academy–Award–nominated actor, Ben Delmonico. A man known the world over for his sophisticated action movies and box office charisma. But it was clear Norma was not delighted.

Typical. Mother loves being contrary. And in control. What am I panicking about?

About being thirty–two. About not having children. But mostly because Cruz Morales is seriously involved with another woman. And, as usual, when you panic you make impulsive decisions just to put an end to anything that might seem like a confrontation. I’ve seen you live to regret that several times.

That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said. Molly’s took a breath. When you told me a few weeks ago Cruz was involved with Shar, how did I act? I was happy. I told you to give him my congratulations! Cruz and Shar hooking–up has nothing to do with me deciding to marry Ben.

Really?

You know as well as anyone that Cruz and I have been over forever. He’s moved on, and I’ve moved on. We’re friends, but only that. Heat bloomed on her cheeks and spilled down her neck.

I don’t remember you being all that crazy about Ben before you heard the news about Cruz. Norma tilted her chin up.

Just because I don’t announce something to you, doesn’t mean it’s not true.

Norma snorted.

Molly’s squeezed the side of her face. I won a Golden Globe for acting, but I still blush when Mother thinks I’m lying. "Ben and I have been dating for months. He’s a charming and generous man who convinced the studio to consider me for Traitor, risking his own chances for the lead. And everyone but you thinks we make a perfect couple. All my friends like him, Mom, both for himself and because he’s a wonderful actor."

Well, that is one thing we can agree on, Norma said. He is a good actor. So why not just make movies with him instead of marrying the man?

"Those are not mutually exclusive. I’m marrying him and making a movie with him. Or have you forgotten I’ll be on set in Paris at Christmas?"

Of course I haven’t forgotten that. It’s the first Christmas you won’t be home; thank you, Ben Delmonico. Norma leaned closer. I just can’t help but wonder if that movie isn’t what’s behind him proposing so suddenly. The wedding publicity is sure to make it a blockbuster.

For God’s sake, that’s just plain insulting. He didn’t ask me to marry him to get publicity. Molly reddened again, remembering how Ben had said, two minutes after she’d accepted his proposal, Our box office will be huge.

Let’s just drop this, Mom. We’re almost home and I’ve got a million things to do.

The Lincoln slowed and turned onto North Highland, the main thoroughfare into Hancock Park. Every time we come this way, I remember the day Charles and I brought you home, all those years ago. It was the biggest triumph of our lives, Norma said softly.

That’s a nice memory. It was, but Molly knew better than to her guard down.

It is. Norma turned to Molly. Now look, obviously I can’t tell you what to do any more. But until you found out Cruz was moving in with Shar, every time you called home, you asked about Cruz first. Every time you came home, he was the first one you called. I think you’re still in love with him. And, despite his behavior, which might fool someone who hasn’t known him since he was a little boy, it’s clear to me that he loves you too. I think this relationship with Shar is a ruse to provoke you into finding a way to work things out.

The limo rocked gently and the women’s shoulders brushed against one another. Molly ran her fingers through the wild blonde hair she was famous for. You’ve just outlined a plot so pathetic it wouldn’t get made by the Hallmark Channel.

I like the Hallmark Channel. They make lovely movies, without all the naked fannies.

I like the Hallmark Channel too, but that’s not my point. Cruz wouldn’t be with Shar for any reason other than he finds her a good match. He doesn’t do ‘ruses’.

What’s he got in common with her?

They both work at the college and they’re both into books and the local arts scene. I bet she’ll finally get him to turn one of his ideas into a novel. I never could. Molly’s voice wavered.

See, that’s pain in your voice, not happiness. You shouldn’t be afraid of the truth about your feelings, whatever the cost.

Like you? Are you always completely honest, Mother? No matter the cost?

Norma blinked. What are we talking about now? What haven’t I been honest about with you?

Molly looked down. Her question had surprised both of them and she wished she could un–ask it. Now isn’t the time to open that particular can of worms.

I’m just pointing out that sometimes it’s better to keep things to yourself, and not share them until you can cope with the reality of the repercussions. You do that. Remember when Dad was sick? You took weeks to tell Jason and me.

Yes, I did. And I believe I apologized to both of you for that. Norma blinked again. But this discussion isn’t about me. It’s about you. I just don’t want you to lie to yourself about how you feel about Cruz.

Molly heard pity in Norma’s voice. She hated to be pitied by anyone. Not even by Norma.

Especially by Norma.

Look, don’t ruin my happy news by imagining Cruz has some crazy plan to win me back. And please don’t repeat this nonsense to anyone. Cruz and I broke up because we didn’t want the same life. We tried. We failed. Case closed. I think you’re the only one who hasn’t accepted this.

The only thing I can’t accept is you’re both too stubborn to compromise.

I’m not talking about Cruz anymore. Molly pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her texts. Jason’s plane landed. He’s probably already at the house. She glanced outside. We’ll be there in five minutes. Let’s not be arguing when we get there, okay?

Norma put her cold hand on Molly’s arm, ignoring Molly’s plea. Marta said Shar is pressuring Cruz to give up teaching and move to LA. She’s got an offer from one of the studios, to run the script department, or something. Marta said she told Cruz she could help him make some real money writing for the movies.

What? Molly met Norma’s eyes. Money doesn’t motivate Cruz. He loves teaching like I love acting. He’s not going to abandon his profession, or his students.

He might, if it’s what Shar wants.

Marta’s mistaken. Cruz is old–school. Shar will not entice him to get involved with Hollywood. Believe me, three years ago I suggested he take some time off and write a book, and come with me to Europe while I was filming. He wouldn’t hear of it, said everything about movie making was toxic.

If you could just find a way to balance your lives, in my opinion...

"Your opinion isn’t what matters, Mom. Drop it!"

Norma opened her mouth, then clamped her lips together and turned away.

Great, now I’ve hurt her feelings. Molly clicked her phone off and tucked it into her purse. Forgive my tone. But look, Ben’s a sensitive guy. He’ll pick–up on your negative feelings about the wedding if you don’t let go of them. And he’ll worry about why you aren’t happy for us.

Norma continued to stare outside. Your fiancé thinks I’m a pushy and doting mother. Which I am. I think he’s a narcissist. Which he is. A pretty one, but a man only concerned with his own success. Same as most of your actor friends I’ve met over the last decade. Ben doesn’t give a hoot what I think.

Yes he does.

Norma sighed and looked Molly in the eye. Have you told Cruz you’re getting married?

"No. I told you that you’re the first one to hear the news. Molly fiddled with the engagement ring, twisting the three–carat pink diamond around and around. I know I surprised you with this, and you don’t handle surprises well. But it’s a happy day. Don’t let an old dream spoil a new one. For either of us."

Well, that’s not my intention. Norma smiled at her daughter finally. And thank you for telling me first. I hate hearing news about your personal life on television.

There’ll be a press conference at the end of the week. Artie is handling it. But we should probably hire some security for the house the next couple of weeks, Molly added.

Oh, so I’m not first to know? You told your agent first?

"No, Ben told Artie, who is our mutual agent. But no one else. And he had to do that so Artie could get in front of the media frenzy that’s going to break out when it’s announced we’re getting married. Any time two actors get hitched it’s like chum to the sharks." Molly made an exaggerated grimace and showed her teeth, hoping her million watt personality might warm her mother’s hands, or heart.

Norma didn’t seem to notice. Are you going to tell Cruz?

I’ll call him tomorrow, before the internet freak–out begins.

Why?

What do you mean, ‘why’? Why am I going to tell him?

You said you two were over. I can tell his mother and she can tell him, if you’d rather not go to the trouble.

Molly shifted in her seat. "I’ll tell him. Cruz and I are still good friends."

Best friends, a voice in her brain chirped. For a moment she tried to imagine what Cruz was going to say. She blinked. It’s impossible. I never know how that man will react to anything. I’m calling a whole list of people tomorrow. He’s just one of them.

Norma crossed her arms and shivered, her skin as pale as the pearl choker lying against her neck. Mr. Garcia, please turn down the air conditioner, it’s bloody freezing in here.

"Sí, Senora."

Norma met his glance in the rear–view mirror and shrugged. He nodded.

Molly frowned. These two act like I can’t see them. Or they just don’t care. She squared her shoulders. As soon as I get a shower, we’ll have dinner and let little brother in on the news. It’s going to be great, Mom. Jason adores Ben.

Your brother loves you very much. Norma’s gaze settled on Molly’s face. You will make a lovely bride.

Now, that’s the spirit! She hugged her. Her mother felt frail in her arms, and looked tired, tired as if she was getting the flu. Molly suddenly wished they weren’t hosting a major charity event at the house in two days, which was going to be where she and Ben would announce their engagement.

Thanks for everything you’re doing, Mom. The party and all. Why don’t you and I head out and do some shopping this weekend? We’ll have tea at the Polo Lounge, just you and me. If you’re up to it.

Of course I’m up to it, Norma said, though her voice trembled.

Molly wished her father was here with them. He would have tamped down Norma’s fears and taken charge of the plans. Tears brimmed in Molly’s eyes. Although Charles Wintz might have been as stubborn as Norma in accepting someone other than Cruz as his son–in–law. He’d seen before anyone else did, when at fifteen she’d fallen for their cook’s handsome only child.

"She’s in love with him, baby doll, Molly had heard him say to Norma, as she hid outside the den door. And it looks like the real thing to me."

When are you thinking of having the wedding, Molly? And where? Norma cleared her throat. Here in LA or up at the Santa Barbara house?

In a couple of weeks, actually. At Cabo San Lucas. I think only two dozen people at most. It will be easier to keep the location a secret that way. Molly clapped her hands together, throwing herself into the part of a thrilled bride–to–be. It’s going to be perfect. I’ll wear your veil and your mother’s emerald earrings. Jason can give me away. Isn’t that what you always dreamed of? Me happily married?

Norma nodded. Yes, I’ve dreamed of that.

Then be positive. Think good thoughts. For all of us. Please. She folded her hands around her mother’s. It’s a new chapter, and I know Ben’s perfect for me. Give him a chance and you’ll see.

The limousine pulled into the driveway and a few seconds later stopped at the front entrance. Molly kissed Norma’s cheek and bounced out, directing the luggage removal and welcoming the family dogs that leaped around her like canine paparazzi at the sound of her famous voice.

But Norma didn’t move. A few moments later her chauffer opened the door and leaned inside. Are you feeling alright, Senora?

She pointed through the window at Molly. "My daughter is an excellent actress, Mr. Garcia. She looks very happy. But did you hear her say even once that she loved her fiancé?"

The old man shook his head. No, no, I did not hear Molly say that.

Norma nodded. Just as I thought. Ben Delmonico might be a lot of things, but ‘perfect’ for my daughter isn’t one of them.

Chapter Two

Los Angeles

July 31, 2010 6 p.m.

Molly saw Cruz before he saw her, which was the way she liked it. It gave her time to measure his mood, and remind herself not to jump into his arms as she had all the years they were lovers.

He stood outside on her mother’s patio, the breeze ruffling in and out of the rose and lilac bushes, the sun shining down through the gently waving trees onto his tanned face. Though he was a big man, tall and broad shouldered, he was light on his feet and never seemed to take a false step. He had a natural grace that Molly associated with professional dancers.

Of course, he was too macho to have considered that career. She grinned, remembering his embarrassment the one time she’d suggested it.

Cruz leaned down, his shoulders straining against his white tee–shirt, and picked up her ancient cat. He hugged Cleo to his neck, gently stroking her fur as he murmured in Spanish.

Molly’s chest tightened as Cleo rubbed herself against Cruz’s day–old beard. She put her hand to her cheek and remembered how his face felt when he didn’t shave.

Was he here to see Marta?

It was Thursday and he usually came to LA on Friday afternoon to have lunch and catch up with his mother, after Friday morning office hours with his students at Santa Barbara College.

Did Marta call him last night and tell him I was coming home? Does he already know about me and Ben? Molly wondered. She pushed her hair off her forehead and walked out to the patio.

Hey, Cruz!

He turned at the sound of her voice, the cat purring against his shoulder. He put Cleo down and walked to her. Molly. When did you get in?

A couple of hours ago. She gave him a brief hug as a familiar frisson of heat up crawled up the center of her. She brushed a kiss against his cheek and stepped back. He smelled like sun and soap and the best moments of her life.

You look great. Cruz folded his arms over his chest and took her in, all of her, with a sweep of his brown eyes. They crinkled as his grin unfolded. "How long are you going to be in LA, chica?"

Just a few days. She put her hand to her suddenly dry lips, and was distracted by the gleam of the enormous diamond on her finger. Quickly she stuck her hand in her shorts pocket.

What do I do Just blurt out the news? Go get us some drinks?

Run?

I wanted to talk to you, he said.

I need to tell you something, Molly said, her words smothering his.

Whoa, slow down. He nodded. Ladies first. What’s up? Big deal new movie? You off to Europe again?

Well yes, in a couple of months. But that’s not what I wanted to tell you. But you go first, except before you do, Mother already told me about you and Shar. I’m really glad to hear you two finally got together. She’s had her eye on you for years.

Even when we were together.

Wow, so we’re jumping in feet first. He smiled, but his eyes were wary. I should have known I could count on our mothers gossiping to get the word out. I’m glad you approve though. Did Norma also tell you I’m moving to LA?

She did, but I didn’t believe her. What about your job in Santa Barbara? You’re not giving up teaching? She stepped closer to him, wanting him to hug her, reassure her, but she knew he wouldn’t.

No, not giving it up. You should know better than that.

I do.

Good. His voice grew serious. I’m taking a sabbatical for a year. I’m going to work on that book I’ve been talking about writing.

Really? That’s wonderful. On Cervantes? The one you didn’t write when you were with me? She put on a pleased expression, but felt tension pull at her mouth. You’ve talked about doing that for a long time.

I have, haven’t I?

Why now?

Cruz exhaled. I’m thirty–five. It’s time to stop waiting around and putting off the rest of my life.

Their eyes met and Molly didn’t trust herself to speak for a moment. Well, congratulations, and good luck with the book.

Thanks. Shar keeps saying I should expand my horizons. We’ll see how that goes. He inclined his head toward her. It’s important to me you think this is a good move. You’ve always been my Dulcinea, you know.

Ah, the woman Don Quixote always dreamed about, but never accepted for who she really was?

Cruz blinked. "I accept you for who you really are, chica. You are my dear friend, Molly Harper. Who was a star to me before she was one to the world."

His words thrilled her and then just as quickly made her furious. He speaks so sweetly, and hurts so deeply.

Molly took a step backwards and jerked her hand out of her pocket. She wiggled it in the air for him to see. I’m expanding my horizons, too. I’m marrying Ben Delmonico.

She almost added, ‘the actor’, but Cruz knew who Ben was. They’d met last year at her mother’s birthday barbeque in Santa Barbara. Cruz helped out when one of the barmen Marta hired didn’t show up. Ben mistakenly thought Cruz was a waiter.

In the silence, Cleo meowed loudly, a strained, nervous sound, and rubbed against Molly’s bare legs. She reached down but the cat ran off.

Wow. That is big news. Bigger than mine. Cruz looked up at the bright blue emptiness of the California summer sky. When do the news helicopters arrive?

I think we’re safe for a while. No one knows yet. Only Mother and Jason. And now you.

This will travel fast. It won’t be long. His voice was cooler by ten degrees than when he’d said hello.

He’s already getting ticked off at the coming press onslaught, even though it isn’t his problem anymore, she thought. Yes, well, Ben and I decided we’re going to have a very small wedding. On the beach in Mexico. I hope you’ll come. I’m sure Mother will want Marta to attend. It’s going to be in two weeks, on the 14th.

Two weeks?

Yes. Molly smiled her best screen–star smile. Will you come? And bring Shar, of course.

Molly?

She turned. Ben Delmonico, fiancé and major movie star, stood at the edge of the patio. Ben! You’re early.

"Hey baby, so did you tell your homeboy there the good news? Ben’s sandals, hand–made in Italy, squeaked as he walked toward them. Yo, Morales. I’ll let you be the first civilian to congratulate me on marrying the hottest actress on the planet."

Molly turned back to Cruz. His eyes had darkened and the tendons in his neck were tensed against the soft cotton of his shirt.

I just invited him to our wedding, Ben. She grabbed Cruz’s hand. Please say you’re coming. You love Cabo, if I remember right.

I’ll let you know, Molly. Cruz dropped her hand so he could extend his to Ben. Congratulations.

Thanks. Ben put his arm around Molly’s shoulders. So did you miss me, gorgeous?

I did. How was Rome? She fought against the disconcerted feeling she always had when Ben appeared in a private space that had belonged to her before she was an actress.

He wasn’t as tall as he seemed in the movies, though in person he was even more handsome. At this moment, on a hot summer day, she felt like a little kid, hallucinating a movie star had stepped down from the screen to pay a visit. So, you got an earlier flight? I wasn’t expecting you for a couple of hours.

Yes. Jeff Lovey gave me a lift on Searchlight’s charter. I was happy to leave early.

Wow, not me. I love Rome in the summer.

No you don’t. It’s hot and smells of un–bathed Europeans. And it’s too crowded to walk, and impossible to get around by car. I had a moron for a driver. He didn’t speak any English. Artie’s girl sucks at booking travel. I’m going to tell him to fire her if she fucks up again.

Artie isn’t ever going to fire Ginny. Molly stepped out of his embrace and twisted her engagement ring. She shot a look at Cruz, who was staring down at Cleo.

I’ll get my people to do your tickets from now on, Ben. They’re better at it than Ginny. She turned to ask Cruz if he’d stay for dinner, but Ben pulled her against him and kissed her hard on the mouth.

He smelled like French cigarettes and hair product.

Her heart beat wildly. It was a distractingly passionate kiss, but when she opened her eyes, all she noticed was that Cruz was no longer standing on the patio.

Come inside with me, Ben said. I need to pay homage to your mother. I’m betting she isn’t as happy as you are that I’m marrying you.

Don’t say that. She was very excited when I told her.

Really? Did you know you blush when you don’t tell the truth, Molly girl? He touched her cheek. And you’re red as a cherry right now.

Molly moved his hand from her face. "It’s hot out here. As for Mom, she’s jumped right into the wedding planning as soon as we got home. She’s already called a florist in Cabo and reserved rooms at the Pueblo Bonita under her name." Molly laced her arm through Ben’s, glancing around again to see where Cruz had disappeared to.

Was Cruz happy for you?

Of course. But he’s already worried about the media. He always hates it, primarily for my mother’s sake, when we’re besieged.

Ben held the door open. Cruz Morales, guard dog. I’m sure you’re going to miss that once we get married, having him around as the muscle.

Molly jerked to a stop. Why wouldn’t Cruz be around after we’re married? He and I have been friends for twenty years. That isn’t going to change.

No? Oh, I just assumed. You know, that I’d be the guy looking out for your welfare now.

Ben’s voice had an edge.

Well, what a surprise, Molly thought. Ben Delmonico is worried about another man? Let’s not fight about Cruz. Okay? He’s part of my family, that’s all I’m saying.

Oh, I know that. And we’re not fighting, baby. Just learning new things about each other. He brushed another kiss on her cheek and took her hand. "You look spectacular. Before I forget, I gave Artie the go–ahead for us to sit down with Vanity Fair next month. Big, splashy dual interview. Liebowitz is doing the photos. I’m telling you, Molly, you’re on the verge of being number one female at the box office. And if Traitor doesn’t win you an Oscar, I’m quitting acting."

Ben, you’re sweet, but don’t talk about Oscars. That’s bad luck, right?

You’re done with bad luck now that you’ve got me, beautiful. He kissed her again. Let’s go see mommy dearest. Despite what you say, I’ve still got some wooing to do with that one.

Ben grinned a shark smile, white teeth dazzling in the LA sunshine.

Molly followed him, but not before looking back at the patio one more time. Cleo stood in the shade looking lonely, as if she, too, wished Cruz was still there.

Chapter Three

Bethesda, Maryland

July 31, 2010 8:20 p.m.

How’s he doing?" Anne Sullivan asked, her voice bright.

The nurse at the reception desk, the redheaded Sara, Anne’s husband’s favorite, smiled wide. Good. He’s good, Mrs. S. Had a bit of a rough time about an hour after dinner, but he’s good now.

You think he can keep down some applesauce? Anne looked at the small container she’d brought from home. It was still warm from the pan. She’d left out the cinnamon this time, which stung her husband’s mouth, but she’d kept the lemon juice. Harry didn’t like his applesauce too sweet.

It’s fine to give him anything he says he wants.

Thanks, Sara. I’ll be here for the rest of the night.

Great. Let me know if you need anything, okay?

Anne nodded and walked down the softly lit hallway. Harry was in the last room on the left. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was eight–twenty. She’d been gone three hours, but it felt like a week.

She stepped into the room. Harry lay in bed, his eyes closed. Anne inhaled at the sight of his familiar shape lying motionless under the sheets and blankets. Her composure wavered and she immediately brought the pep talk into her mind that she’d repeated a hundred times these past few months.

Be cheerful. Be hopeful. Be his faith.

Her youngest son had told her this. Even if Dad doesn’t think he can beat the cancer, he’ll see that you have faith, and that’s got to help, right?

Anne put her things down and took off her jacket. Sara had pulled the shades closed against the darkening sky, but Anne opened them and cracked the window. It was summer, but mild tonight, not humid as usual in Maryland, and Harry liked to feel the breeze when he slept.

She sat beside the bed and lay her hand on Harry’s arm. He’d lost more than a third of his body weight, but his forearm was still solid and muscled, covered with fine black hair and a few freckles. His big hand was relaxed against the blue–and–yellow quilt she’d brought from home.

His eyes remained closed, but his skin was warm. He was breathing.

She exhaled in relief. Harry. Harry. Harry, I know you’re fifteen years older than little old me, but you’re sleeping too early tonight, aren’t you?

After a moment, his eyelids opened and he turned slowly toward her. It took him a few seconds, but he smiled and reached his hand out. Hey, pretty lady.

I brought you applesauce.

Home made?

Would I dare bring you anything else? She opened the container. Can I feed you or do you want to handle it?

He looked at it longingly but pursed his top lip over his teeth and shook his head. I’ll wait a little bit. Just catch me up on what you did at home. Did you call the boys?

The sores in his mouth must be worse. Anne glanced at the IV bag. She was an RN and could replace it herself, but she didn’t want to tread on Sara’s toes. It was almost empty. The hospice nurses were amazingly vigilant about keeping their patients hydrated and comfortable. But if Sara didn’t come in the next ten minutes, she’d go ask for more saline.

Yes. She met Harry’s glance. Harry Jr. sends his love. He’ll be here this weekend. Eric said he’ll visit next week and for you to plan to lose again at chess. You two are too competitive.

I’ll win again. That boy can’t think offensively. Just defensively. He’s like you. Puts things off until they reach a crisis.

I don’t do that.

Harry raised an eyebrow. He’d lost his hair from the chemo, but his eyebrows had grown back black and silky. Yes, you do. Which reminds me, have you called Kirk?

Kirk was Kirk Stevenson. Their attorney.

No. But I will. Tomorrow. I promise. Anne’s heart raced as she squeezed the lid onto the plastic container. How you feeling?

I’m fine. And I’m not trying to bully you, Anne, but Kirk needs those papers co–signed before... Harry’s voice piddled away.

Harry.

I wasn’t going to say ‘before I die’. Although I would like you to sign the damn trust documents before I do, whenever the hell that will be. He winked, undercutting the seriousness of his tone. Come on, we should have done this trust thing years ago. Just because you’re only 48 years old doesn’t mean you shouldn’t plan for the future, too.

I said I’ll call Kirk tomorrow, and I will. She worried the tears burning at the back of her eyes would fall, but they didn’t. She put the applesauce on the tray. Harry Jr. said he’s met someone, by the way. It sounds pretty serious.

Yeah? The boy’s twenty-two. How serious can it be?

Well, that’s true. Anne smiled, thankful for the thousandth time Harry showed no distaste for news of their youngest son’s romantic life. This new guy is a stock broker. Derivatives. I don’t even know what derivatives are, do you?

No. I’m 63. A savings bond kind of guy. Harry smiled. Who else did you talk to? Heard back from your sister?

No. But her last letter said her unit has been deployed to Turkey. Her older sister, Susan, was career military. Ten years older than Anne, they seldom saw each other. She doesn’t email. I’m sure we’ll hear something soon. As long as she’s not in Afghanistan.

Anne had written to what was left of her very small family at Christmas, to tell them about Harry’s cancer. It suddenly occurred to her that wasn’t the kind of thing she should have sent with a holiday card.

She hated always second guessing herself. Harry told her not to do it, but she couldn’t seem to stop.

Do you want to watch a movie? I’ve got some new DVDs. Anne reached into the bag beside her and pulled out a couple.

Harry was easy to watch movies with. He loved the same films she did, what he called ‘chick flicks’. Mr. Macho wasn’t afraid of his feminine side, as Eric always said. "How about The Hangover? Harry Jr. said it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. Or Meryl Streep in Julie and Julia. She plays Julia Child."

Harry frowned. Really? Wasn’t Julia Child about six foot five? I think Streep’s kind of petite to try and pull that off.

She’s got BIG talent.

Harry smiled. Whichever one you want, Annie. He yawned and tried to scoot up in the bed, but struggled with the effort. Anne helped him with the pillows, then put the DVD in and sat beside him on the bed.

You hold the remote, Harry. You always say I put the volume up too loud.

You do. He hit play and put his arm around her.

She leaned her head against his chest. Be cheerful. Be hopeful. Be his faith.

Anne glanced at the IV bag just as Sara glided in and changed it without saying a word.

A couple of the tears unshed a few minutes ago tumbled down Anne’s face, but she wiped them away furtively, hoping Harry didn’t notice.

He didn’t say anything, just squeezed her closer to him and turned up the volume.

Chapter Four

Santa Barbara

August 6, 2010

The century–old Biltmore in Santa Barbara, now the five–star Four Seasons, was Molly’s favorite hotel in the world. Nestled below the Santa Ynez Mountains, with a view of the Pacific from almost every room, she’d stayed there many times and each had been a wonderful occasion. Her dad and mom had brought her and three friends for her thirteenth birthday dinner and an overnight stay, and she’d attended numerous dinner parties, friends’ weddings, and even an assignation or two with Cruz before she was famous.

But as she nervously surveyed the small banquet room that management had tucked her party of thirty away in, Molly thought it might have been wiser to have her engagement party at her mother’s place, up the hillside in Montecito. Though there were no gates at that house, like in Los Angeles, the press were less likely to swarm an event at a private home, especially if there were cops at the end of a blocked–off street.

God, how can you look this exquisite and be real? Ben wrapped his arms around her from behind. Green is your color. It makes your eyes sparkle like a goddess.

Molly smiled and nestled against her fiancé. He wore a white dinner jacket and had loosened his black tie, and looked every inch the movie star.

You don’t look so bad yourself. She inhaled the pricey sandalwood scent he had custom blended in Paris. And you smell good enough to eat, except I’m too full to take another bite of anything.

The meal was decent for a hotel. Ben sat in the chair closest to the French doors, leading out to a large patio strung with fairy lights that cast a foggy glow. I’ve had better salmon in a New York deli, but hey, you can’t beat California wine. He pulled Molly onto his lap and rubbed his smooth face against her neck. My mother and your mother seem to be having a pleasant time together.

Yes, they do.

I wonder which one of them our children will favor? Your mother looks like a dowager countess while mine looks like a bouncer, even with that fancy dress on.

Despite herself, Molly laughed. Ben’s mother did have a ‘don’t mess with me’ look about her, even in her elegant silk gown. Children? I expect they’ll look like us, a combination of us. Molly cleared her throat, uncomfortable with this topic, and let her mind wander as Ben began scrolling through his text messages.

She watched their two families mingling at the table in the corner. Her mother and Ben’s, along with Ben’s sister, Jennifer, and Molly’s brother Jason and his girlfriend. Everyone seemed relaxed, although Norma’s artificial, ‘I’m being charming because I was brought up well’ smile worried her. Ben’s sister arrived this morning along with two uninvited New York friends. She had not reacted well to Norma’s offer to have their dinners catered in their rooms.

That girl’s rude and more than a bit presumptuous of our hospitality, Norma had announced to Molly in the limo on the way over. I worked for an hour on the table seating chart.

Molly had laughed, hoping to diffuse the tension. You know the old saying, you can’t choose your in–laws.

Norma and Mr. Garcia had exchanged eye rolls, and Molly had thanked all the good karma she’d earned that Ben was at the hotel with his presumptuous family and not in the back seat with them.

But the night had gone well. Her mother’s best friend, Sissy Meggison from Mobile, Alabama, had shown up with her husband, as had Molly’s Aunt Lil, her father’s sister, both favorites of hers. They ‘ooh’ed and ‘ahh’ed her ring and her vintage Givenchy cocktail dress, and pronounced her fiancé the most handsome man in the world.

Marta and Mr. Garcia were in attendance as guests and did not look at all comfortable in their roles, but Mr. Garcia’s wife, Iris, was a saving grace, grand and elegant and not at all cowed by being in the room with three movie stars. Ben had invited Rob Lowe, his costar in the latest Jack Temple movie, and since Rob and his wife lived close by they had made an appearance.

The only people who had not shown up were Cruz and Shar. Marta had been evasive when Norma asked her if they were coming, and Norma had bestowed on Molly a look that said, Well, what did you expect?

Molly told herself to just keep smiling. Thank God for all my theatrical training, she thought more than once.

Cruz not showing up was just what she’d expected, but it still stung. She wanted things to be easy between her and Cruz. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, suddenly chilled, and glanced at Ben’s watch. It was ten thirty.

What time are you leaving for the airport? she whispered. A light shimmered brightly and suddenly went off outside, catching her attention. She squinted but saw nothing amiss. One of the patio lights must have burned out.

In a few minutes. The jet’s scheduled for midnight. I’ll be in New York until tomorrow, then London until the thirteenth. Then it’s Hello, Cabo San Lucas! Get ready for your first fuck as a married lady. Ben closed his phone and nipped at her bare shoulder.

"That’s so romantic, Mr. Movie Idol." Molly let her irritation show in her voice. Ben had been discreet in public until their engagement, but the last few days he’d adopted a coarser manner of speaking about their intimate life she hated.

Sorry, Miss Delicate Sensibility. I don’t have a script writer feeding me lines tonight. But don’t doubt the feeling, sweetheart.

I don’t. But you need to keep your voice down. My mother asked everyone not to bring their phones, but just as you chose not to follow orders, someone else might be furtively recording us. You wouldn’t want a recording of us up on Vine or twitter, would you?

I can’t help saying exactly what I’m going to do to you, he replied at the same volume. Or what I’d like you to do to me, and I don’t care who hears.

Ben pulled her onto the small dance floor, grinding against her in a mock waltz, his mouth at her ear. I’ve got time for a blow job and you’ve got the lips for it.

There was scattered applause and a wolf whistle from Jason on the other side of the room, but Molly flushed and pulled back from him. You’re kidding, right?

The quartet had been playing a lovely jazz ballad, but broke into a honky tonk version of Here Comes the Bride.

The applause got louder and Ben took a bow and then pulled her out onto the patio and shut the door. Come on, Molly, be spontaneous. We don’t have to worry about being famous all the time. It’s dark out here in the shadows. Don’t you want to give me a little something to tide me over while I’m a continent away?

He slid his hand up her thigh, but she stopped him. "As tempting as it sounds, I’m not doing anything with your mother and my mother ten feet away, Ben. And I think you better hit the road. The limo will wait, but the charter might not. It’s going to get more foggy and there are other passengers."

Ben pulled her further away from the hotel, near the path to the beach. The plane will wait. The punks from Apple aren’t going to leave Ben Delmonico stranded. They might be techno millionaires, but the pilot knows who the star is. Trust me. He pulled her to him and kissed her hard.

She wrapped her arms around him, wishing for a different end to the night than this furtive groping, but she gave in to his passion. It was kind of exciting and illicit, outside. It reminded her of when she was a teenager, one night with Cruz...

Ben slid his hand down her neck into her bra and caressed her nipple. I need you, Molly. I’ve been staring at your ass all night and I’m horny as hell. He unzipped his pants with his other hand. Come on baby, before I pass out from wanting you.

Look over here Molly! Smile, gorgeous, and you’ll be on Page Six of the Post in the a.m.

Suddenly Molly was blinded by what seemed like 10,000 watts of lights.

Hey, Ben, is that a gun in your hand or you just glad to see us? a man shouted from behind the bushes to the left of the patio. There was a hoot and male laughter as someone held up what looked like a video camera.

What the fuck! Ben pushed himself back inside his pants and fumbled to zip himself into respectability. You assholes are dead. Get the hell out of here or you’re all going to be out of a job tonight!

Molly backed further into the hedges. She lost her balance as her high heels tottered and slipped on the thick, damp grass. Gracelessly she bumped into a concrete bench at the edge of the patio and one of her five–inch Manolo Blahnik stilettos cracked in half.

She yelped and grabbed for the bench, but caught her heel in the hem of her dress and fell to her knees on the rock–filled path.

Oh my God, she moaned. It felt like she’d landed on shattered glass. She gingerly brushed the debris from her knees and tried to stand, but slipped again.

Behind her, the shouts and noise increased as if she’d been suddenly dropped into an Old West movie scene, the one where the bar maid gets caught in the cross–fire when the brawl breaks out.

Someone on the patio yelled for security and walkie–talkie bursts of static added to the bedlam as people from the party poured out onto the deck. Ben’s mother screamed, Where are you, Benjamin? Molly heard the sick crunch of a fist hitting flesh as Ben tackled the man with the camera.

Molly. Holy mother, are you hurt? Mr. Garcia was suddenly at her side. He pulled her into his arms, coaxing her to come with him.

I’m okay. Let’s just get out of here. Fury pumped through her but Molly knew confronting the paparazzi was the last thing she should do.

She pulled off her ruined shoes and threw them in the bushes, and then ducked her head to keep from being a bigger target to the idiots on the other side of the bank of throbbing lights.

"Sí, come with me." Mr. Garcia led her away from the chaos, as two burly hotel security guards behind them kept back anyone who tried to follow.

Where’s Mother? She’s going to be frantic! Molly’s hands trembled.

Jason’s taking her back to the house in his car. I promised her I’d get you home. It’s going to be okay, Molly, just keep moving.

They passed under lights mounted on the side of the hotel and she saw blood on Mr. Garcia’s white shirt. Are you hurt? She reached out and touched his chest. What happened?

No, no, Molly, it’s not me. It’s from you. Your hands are cut.

Both of her palms oozed blood, and she realized there was more running off the cuts on her knees. Her green satin dress was ripped, a piece of the ruffle drug behind her on the sidewalk. She put her hand to her face and felt dizzy. I’m going to have Artie sue every one of those bastards. And then have them arrested. I swear to God!

Shhh, it’s okay. Let’s just get you home.

They rounded the corner and got a view of the hotel’s front entry. The entire paved driveway was a churning, hollering mass of people and cops and news trucks.

"La Madre sagranda, Mr. Garcia said. This is worse than when you won the Golden Globe."

I was so stupid to let Mother have this dinner here! I knew we shouldn’t use such a public venue. What are we going to do? You can’t go out there and get the car, Mr. Garcia.

Hang on you two. I’m taking Molly home, a deep voice from behind them said.

Mr. Garcia and Molly turned. Cruz stepped out of the shadows. He wore a black shirt and jeans and a look on his face that would have stopped a stampede.

Mr. Garcia, go back inside the hotel and wait with Jason and Mrs. Wintz. He handed him a key card. "They’re in room 301. I just told Jason I’d get Molly home by