Exclusive Read online

  “Then let’s just say I only change them once a week and leave it at that,” Ida teased. “Abby, would you hang on for a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  Ida must have forgotten to place her hand over the phone’s mouthpiece, because Abby could’ve sworn she heard muffled giggling and lips smacking in the background. Must be standing next to the television set, where the soap stars were going at it hot and heavy. Abby thought nothing was left to the imagination anymore.

  A minute later, a winded Ida was back on the phone. “Sorry. I just wanted to get that bed in tiptop shape. Now what is my favorite godchild up to these days?”

  “In search of the next big story as usual. There isn’t much happening in Hollywood today.”

  “Why don’t you just make something up? Isn’t that what all those tabloid papers do anyway?”

  Abby laughed. “Yeah, some of them do, but that’s not my way. I’d like to think there is some truth to the stories I write.”

  Abby paused, deciding whether or not she should tell Ida about the Pitt/Jolie interview and her need for a photographer. She realized it couldn’t hurt anything. Also, she would call her mother as soon as she finished telling Ida; it wasn’t like she was betraying anyone’s confidence. She knew she could trust Ida; she’d never failed her yet.

  With a trace of the mischievous in her voice, Abby said, “You’ll never guess who I’m going to interview.”

  “You’re right, I won’t, so don’t keep me in suspense. Just tell me,” Ida singsonged.

  Abby wasn’t going to let her off that easy. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think you would care anyway. Mom loves the tabloid news much more than you do.” A grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s spread across her face. She could just imagine the look of utter shock on Ida’s face. Abby had been a terrible tease throughout her life with sweet, gullible Ida.

  “If that’s the way you feel, fine. I do have things to do, Abby. I don’t have time for this chitchat game today.”

  Dear old Ida was getting a bit snippy in her old age. Abby laughed. “Oh shit, I can’t do that to you anymore, can I? I’m too old for the game anyway. So”—Abby paused—“do you really want to know who I’m going to interview, or would you just rather I tell Mom instead? As a matter of fact, call her to the phone now, and I’ll tell her myself.”

  “No, you can’t do that!”

  “Oh, yes, I can,” Abby teased.

  “No, you cannot, Abby. Please whatever you do, do not call your mother,” Ida stated adamantly.

  “Why not? Is there something that you’re not telling me?” Suddenly concerned about her mother, Abby realized she’d spoken more harshly than she’d intended. “Sorry, Ida, but if there is something going on, I have a right to know. I talked to my mother yesterday, and everything was just hunky-dory. Spit it out.”

  “Oh, you sound just like Sophie.”

  Abby couldn’t help but smile. Sophie and Ida were complete opposites. Prim and proper Ida always the lady while Sophie was her polar opposite. She said what she thought and usually she wasn’t one to mince words. No, if something were seriously wrong with Abby’s mother, Ida would’ve told her. Hell, all of her godmothers would’ve called her by now. This was Ida being Ida, the noted drama queen.

  “I guess I deserved that, but seriously, if there is something going on that I need to know, I want you to tell me now, or I’ll get in my car right this minute and drive over there to see for myself.” Abby saw Chester’s ears spike at the word car. Alert, he sat up in his chair and waited patiently to see if they would be going anywhere.

  “If you must know, I am not at your mother’s house,” Ida offered reluctantly. Abby had to strain to hear her words.

  Instantly alarmed, Abby asked, “What? Then where are you? Are you okay? You’re not in any trouble, are you?” She couldn’t imagine what kind of trouble Ida could possibly get into, but there was always the slim chance that trouble had found her.

  “I am fine. I’m visiting a friend, that’s all,” Ida stated firmly. “And I would appreciate it if this conversation remained between the two of us.”

  Abby burst out laughing. “Why, Ida, I do believe you’ve taken a lover!” She couldn’t help herself. The mental picture of Ida sneaking around with a man was hilarious. And that rustling of covers she’d heard, the giggles and lip smacking, that was for damn sure no soap opera. If so, Ida and her lover were the featured stars. Good for her, Abby thought, grinning, at least someone she knew was getting laid. She thought of Chris, and instantly felt her blood pressure rise. She took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to obsess over something, someone, she couldn’t have. She’d seen the recent copy of People magazine with that sleazy starlet practically glued to him. Abby had rules about dating, and they didn’t include seeing her date’s picture with other women, rather sluts, splashed all across the country.

  “Stop! You make it sound so…tawdry! I am simply visiting a friend. That’s all you need to know. Can I trust that this conversation will remain private?”

  Abby pushed thoughts of Chris out of her head and focused on the present. “Of course, Ida. Now that we have that out of the way, I have something I’ve been thinking about and wanted to discuss with you.”

  “You do?”

  “You remember when you worked for that photographer in New York all those years ago? Remember showing me those pictures you’d taken that were published in Life?” Abby asked, giving Ida a minute to get her mind off her lover, if that’s who he was, and something told Abby she was right on the mark. Ida didn’t go too long without a man in her life. Everyone knew that.

  “Of course I do, they were my crowning glory at the time. I am not senile, Abby. Why do you ask?”

  “Do you still have your equipment?”

  Several seconds passed before Ida replied. “I suppose I kept it somewhere at home. Did you want to put it on eBay? I can have Sully, he’s the super at the penthouse, look in the basement if you’d like. If you’re short on funds, I can give you whatever you need, dear. You don’t have to resort to selling things on the Internet. I know it’s costing you a small fortune to remodel your little house.”

  Had Abby not been sitting in her chair, she would’ve fallen flat on the floor. If Abby had needed money, she’d have asked her mother. Her mother was a millionaire many times over. Besides, that wasn’t her way. She’d made it this far on her own and intended to continue doing so. At twenty-eight, she was a big girl. She could take care of herself. Her mother, bless her heart, had offered to foot the bill for the little ranch Abby had purchased in Brentwood, plus the remodeling. Abby had politely refused her offer, telling her she was quite capable of making it on her own, thank you very much. Her mother had called her stubborn and bull-headed, insisting that she was just like her father. Abby had taken that as the compliment it was meant to be.

  “Thanks, Ida, but that wasn’t why I asked. I…well, I just wondered if the opportunity ever came up and I needed a photographer, if you could help me out. I have plenty of equipment. The new owners at the paper recently purchased some top-notch cameras. Think you could learn how to use them if you had to?” Abby waited. She knew Ida was very familiar with cameras, but she wasn’t sure if she’d ever used a digital camera. Hell, she didn’t even know if Ida knew they existed.

  “Does this have something to do with the interview you’re talking about? Is it some aging star, someone I might want to meet? Clint Eastwood? God, that man is sexy,” Ida said. Abby swore she heard lust in her voice. “Gregory Peck was a hunk in his day and age, too. I often wished I could’ve met him. Those eyes about did me in every time I saw him in a movie. Hollywood’s greatest loss. When he died, I spent a week in bed.”

  Abby wondered who Ida had shared her bed with that week, couldn’t remember if Thomas, Ida’s last husband, had been alive at the time. Ida and her men. She’d probably die in the throes of passion. Abby smiled at the image, thinking it wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

  “Sorry,
it’s not Clint, and I don’t think I can arrange an interview with Mr. Peck, since he’s no longer among us. I just thought this might be something you would be interested in. I know you weren’t that hip when Mom told you she’d be spending the next six months here in Los Angeles. She told me you didn’t want to stay, said something about Dr. Sameer’s suddenly changing your mind. Now that you and I know you’re going to be here for a few more months, I wanted to give you something to do to occupy your time. Besides making beds and all.” Abby added the last as a joke, unsure if Ida would get it or not, but it didn’t matter. Ida was back to normal, and that’s all that counted.

  “Are you asking me to come to work for The Informer?”

  “No, I’m asking you if you’d like to photograph Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie and their kids when I interview Brangelina.”

  Abby waited for what seemed like forever before Ida replied.

  “Oh my God, I believe I have died and gone to heaven for sure!”

  Laughing loudly, Abby replied, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Chapter 4

  Ida’s heartbeat was so rapid, she was sure she was about to faint. Adjusting the belt on her robe, she smoothed her hand across her hair. Dr. Benjamin Sameer, Sammy—her new pet name for him—went to take a shower when he’d heard her cell phone ring. Ida assumed he was allowing her a few moments of privacy. Though first he’d had to kiss her and make all that slobbery noise, and now Abby knew she was romantically involved with someone. Abby would keep this to herself, Ida was sure. Still, Ida had wanted to keep her relationship with Sammy private, as the girls were always telling her she couldn’t live without a man. She supposed there was some truth to that, but right now she wasn’t about to delve into her psyche to discover why.

  Never in a million years had Ida thought she’d ever get to use her photography skills again. Abby hadn’t said not to mention this to anyone, but Ida decided to keep the delicious news to herself and savor it for as long as she could.

  After her first marriage, she’d tossed her photography career aside, because she no longer needed a job to pay her bills. She’d missed the thrill of creating a permanent image of a moment in time, but with her duties as one of Manhattan’s newest socialites, she’d had to forgo her former passion and profession as a photographer. Four husbands and numerous affairs later, she’d assumed she would never need to use those skills again. What surprised her more than anything was that she wanted to get back into the real world again. For so long she’d lived inside a glass bubble, fearful of everything, afraid to step out of her self-imposed solitude and simply live. Thankful that Toots had forced her back into the real world, Ida found her sudden vigor for life so refreshing, so new, that she wanted to shout it to the world. However, propriety and maturity forced her to remain calm and passive and preserve the image of herself she had created for the world at large.

  Sammy returned to the bedroom. “Ah, my dear Ida, you look lovely. I take it your phone call brought good news.”

  Ida gave him a bright smile. “That was my goddaughter, Abby. She just wanted to chitchat, you know, girl talk.” Ida was reluctant to share with Sammy any part of her relationship to Abby. It was too special. This was her business, and right now Sammy didn’t need to know what they’d discussed. Besides, something told her he would not approve of her working any more than the rest of the men she’d involved herself with in the past had. Ida knew she had some serious soul-searching to do, but now wasn’t the time.

  Sammy came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her still-slender waist. He dotted light kisses down the side of her neck, then cupped her breast in his hand. “I am the luckiest man in the world. I think I fell in love with you the first time I laid eyes on you.”

  Ida leaned against him, relishing his words, loving the feel of his hands on her, his lips softly tracing the contours of her neck. “I will be forever in your debt, Sammy. If not for you and your work at the center, I would still be stuck in Manhattan living inside that awful penthouse.”

  “I can’t see living in a Manhattan penthouse as a terrible life, but if you say so, then it must be. While I hate what you’ve been through, I am very fortunate that you chose me as the one to help you. I love my work at the center, but sadly, I may have to close the clinic down soon. Patients are not as plentiful as they once were, and, of course, the economy is not what it used to be either.”

  Ida gently removed his arms from her waist, turning around so she could look him directly in the eye. He looked as sad as a lost puppy. For the first time in her life she actually held the power in her hands to make a change in a man’s life instead of its being the other way around. She cleared her throat, adjusted her shoulders, and held her head high before she spoke. “You have given me back my life, Sammy. I can’t ever repay you for that, but there is something I can do for you if you will let me.”

  “Ah, my dearest Ida, I couldn’t imagine you could ever do any more for me than you have already. You have filled an old man’s life with love and brightness.” He reached for her hand. “And I would be remiss if I neglected to mention our lovemaking. Never have I experienced such ecstasy, not even as a young man. Like a temple, your body is made to be loved.”

  Ida blushed at his compliment. “You’re too kind, Sammy. You make me feel young again, alive, full of passion. I know how much your work at the center means to you. How could you ever give it up? As you must know, I am a very wealthy woman. I’ve made, or rather my late husband made, some very wise investments, allowing me to do as I please. There is nothing that would please me more than to offer my financial help if it will save your clinic.” Ida paused, waiting for his reaction. He smiled at her, slowly shaking his head from side to side.

  “You are a very generous woman, my sweetness, but I am a gentleman. I could never accept such an offer, but it pleases me immensely that you would consider doing this for an old man such as I.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Now, while I still have a few patients left, I must get to the clinic before Amala thinks I’ve abandoned her and them. You may stay here for as long as you like.” Sammy adjusted his necktie while he spoke.

  “Thank you, but I’d better get back to that horrid beach house Toots now calls home. I’m sure if I don’t make an appearance soon, she will come searching for me. I can only use the sleeping late excuse so many times.” Ida smiled, then seductively dropped her robe to the floor, allowing Sammy one last look at her nude body before leaving.

  With a seductive smile, he raked his gaze across her naked body. “You will kill me, my love. Now get dressed, and I will have my driver drop you off at that ‘horrid beach house’ before your friends discover you’re not where you’re supposed to be.”

  Ida did not like Sammy’s driver, Mohammed. She guessed him to be in his early thirties. With olive skin, dark hair, and even darker eyes, he reminded her of one of those mob characters on television. He always gave her the creeps when he looked at her. It was as though he knew exactly what she and Sammy did behind closed doors and knew all of the details. He’d winked at her once before, and she’d wished that Sammy had been there to witness it, but this was his driver, had been for many years, he’d told her, so she wasn’t about to stir up trouble. Still, she would have rather taken a taxi back to the beach house, but taxis weren’t quite as plentiful in Malibu as they were in Manhattan. Come to think of it, she really didn’t like Sammy’s house either. She hadn’t the heart to tell him it lacked anything that stamped it as his. The house could have been a furnished rental for all the individuality it had. It was as empty of personal items as a burgled vault. Apparently the Center for Mind and Body had most of his personal photos. She had seen a few pictures of him and Amala displayed on his desk, but nothing more. No treasured souvenirs from his many travels, no collections of any kind. She supposed it really didn’t matter, but she still did not like the empty house that sat high above the Pacific.

  Ten minutes later, Ida was cruising along the Pacific Coast Highway toward Toot
s’s new house. Ida agreed the location was gorgeous, but the house itself was another matter. Poor Toots had her work cut out for her, but Ida knew how much Toots liked a challenge, especially when it came to decorating. Ida was positive that it was only a matter of time before the beach house was as glorious as Toots’s Southern plantation home in Charleston.

  “Drop me off at the end of the drive,” Ida said to Mohammed. She’d walk the rest of the way to the beach house. If any of the girls were to see her, she’d already planned her excuse for being out so early. She would simply explain she’d gone out for an early-morning walk. Nothing wrong with that. She’d been lucky so far. No one had caught her leaving the beach house late at night or sneaking back inside in the wee hours. Ida had mentioned to the girls how she just wanted to sleep late and relax now that she no longer feared germs and no longer had to spend hours cleaning and preparing herself for bed. They’d all promised they wouldn’t try to wake her. Ida felt guilty for lying, but for the moment she decided it was for the best.

  At sixty-five, she felt like a teenager sneaking behind her parents’ back again; but with all the talk of her reputation with men, Ida decided to keep her affair a secret. Sammy had agreed with her, saying he feared how it would appear since she was his patient. When the time was right, Ida would reveal her romance with Dr. Sameer. They hadn’t even told Amala, his daughter, yet. Both decided they would know when the time was right to reveal all.

  Ida managed to enter the house undetected. Inside her room she quickly changed into a summer nightgown. She lay down on her bed, then jumped up when she saw her reflection in the mirror above her bed. That had to go. Today. She’d remove it herself if she had to. Inside the equally hideous bathroom were black velvet walls, with Elvis in various poses wearing the outrageous sequined suits for which he was so well-known. Fake sapphires created a border around the top and bottom of the walls. The bathroom fixtures were all royal blue. Ida assumed they symbolized his song about those blue suede shoes. The mirror above the sink was in the shape of a giant guitar, with more of the fake sapphires surrounding the quirky pattern. She hoped this was just someone’s idea of humor and not a serious attempt at design. She mussed her hair and brushed her teeth before heading downstairs to the kitchen, where Mavis was slicing fruit.