“I just got back to Pasadena yesterday,” he explained. “I thought I'd come and say hi.” Janet nodded and shot a look at Melanie. She hoped he wouldn't stay long. There was nothing about him that appealed to Janet as a suitable escort for her daughter. It didn't matter to Janet that he was well educated, came from a nice family, and would presumably have a decent job once he got situated in L.A., that he was a kind, compassionate person, and loved her daughter. A nice boy from Pasadena was of no interest to her, and she made it clear without spelling it out that she didn't approve of his being there to visit her. Two minutes after she'd arrived, Janet walked into the house and slammed the door. “I don't think she was too pleased to see me,” he said, looking embarrassed, and Melanie apologized for her mother, as she often did.

“She'd like it better if you were some half-baked movie star on drugs, as long as you're in the tabloids at least twice a week, and preferably stay out of jail. Unless it gets you really good press.” She laughed at her description of her mother, which he suspected was painfully accurate.

“I've never been in jail or the tabloids,” he said apologetically. “She must think I'm a real dud.”

“I don't,” Melanie said, as she sat close to him and looked into his eyes. Melanie liked everything about him so far, especially the fact that he wasn't part of any of the Hollywood nonsense. She had come to hate the problems she'd had with Jake. His drinking, going to rehab, winding up in the tabloids with him, and the time he'd punched someone out in a bar. Paparazzi had appeared on the scene in an instant, and he'd been taken away by the police while flashes from the photographers went off in her face. And even more than that, she hated what he had done with Ashley. She hadn't spoken to him since they got back, and didn't plan to again. In contrast, Tom was honorable, decent, wholesome, well behaved, and cared about her. “Want to go for a swim?” He nodded. He didn't care what he did, as long as it was with her. He was a regular, healthy twenty-two-yearold boy. In fact, nicer, smarter, and better-looking than most. He was someone with a future, Melanie could tell. Not the kind of future her mother wanted for her, but the kind Melanie wanted to be part of when she grew up, and even now. He was down to earth, and real, just as she was. There was nothing fake about him. He was as far from the Hollywood scene as you could get.

She showed him to the cabana at the end of the pool, and the room where he could change. He came out a minute later, wearing a Hawaiian-style bathing suit. He had gone surfing there at Easter with friends, in Kauai. Melanie went into the cabana after him, and came out in a pink bikini that showed off her dazzling figure. She had been working with her trainer again since she got back. It was part of her daily drill. As were two hours every day in the gym. She had been going to rehearsal every day too, getting ready for the concert in June. It was going to be at the Hollywood Bowl, and it was already sold out. It would have been anyway, but after the story about her in Scoop, about surviving the San Francisco earthquake, tickets had sold even faster than before. They were being sold by scalpers now for five thousand dollars a ticket. She had two, with backstage passes, reserved for him and his sister.

They swam together and kissed in the pool, and then drifted around on a large inflatable raft as they lay side by side in the sun. She had put tons of sunscreen on. She wasn't allowed to get a tan—it looked too dark in the lights on stage. Her mother preferred her pale. But it was nice lying on the raft with Tom. They lay in silence for a while just holding hands. It was all very innocent and friendly. She felt incredibly comfortable with him, just as she had when she spent time with him in the camp.

“The concert's going to be really cool,” she said when they talked about it. She told him about the special effects and the songs she was going to sing. He knew them all, and he told her again that his sister would go nuts. He said he hadn't told her yet whose concert it was, or that they'd be going backstage to visit her after the show.

When they got tired of lying in the sun, they went inside and made lunch. Janet was sitting in the kitchen, smoking, talking on the phone, and glancing at a gossip magazine. She was disappointed not to see Melanie in it. So as not to disturb her, they took their sandwiches outside, and sat at a table under an umbrella near the pool. Afterward they lay in a hammock together, and she told Tom in a whisper that she'd been trying to figure out how she could do volunteer work, like what she'd done at the Presidio. She wanted to do more with her life than just go to rehearsals and sing.

“Do you have any ideas?” he asked her in the same whisper.

“Nothing my mom would let me do.” They were co-conspirators as they talked in hushed tones, and then he kissed her again. The more he saw her, the crazier he was about her. He could hardly believe his luck, not because of who she was, but because she was such a sweet, unassuming girl, and fun to be with. “Sister Maggie told me about a priest who runs a Catholic mission. He goes to Mexico for a few months every year. I'd love to call him, but I don't think I could ever do that. I've got my tour, and my agent is lining up engagements till the end of the year. We'll be starting on next year soon.” She sounded disappointed as she said it. She was tired of traveling so much, and she wanted time to spend with him.

“Will you be away a lot?” He looked worried about it too. They had just found each other, and he wanted time to be with her. It was going to get complicated for him, too, once he found a job. They'd both be busy.

“I'm gone about four months a year. Sometimes five. Otherwise I just fly in and out, like I did for the benefit in San Francisco. I'm only gone a couple of nights for gigs like that.”

“I was thinking that maybe I could fly up to see you in Vegas, and maybe I could hit some of the hot spots on your tour. Where are you going?” He was trying to figure out ways for them to see each other. He didn't want to wait till early September when she got back. It seemed centuries away to both of them. They had gotten so close to each other during the aftermath of the earthquake in San Francisco that their feelings for each other had hit “fast forward” in a way they wouldn't have otherwise. She was going to be gone for ten weeks, which was a standard tour, although it seemed an eternity now, to both of them. And her agent wanted her to tour Japan next year. Her CDs flew off the shelves in Japan. She had just the look and sound they loved.

She laughed when he asked her where she was going on tour, and started reeling off cities. She was going to be traveling all across the States. But at least they would be traveling by chartered plane. It had been agonizing during the years they did it on a bus. Sometimes they had traveled all night. In fact, most of the time. Her life and tours were a lot more civilized now. When she told him the dates, he said he hoped to be able to visit her once or twice on tour. It depended on how fast he found a job, but it sounded great to her.

They dove back into the pool then and swam laps until they were too winded to do it anymore. He was in fantastic shape and was an excellent swimmer. He said he had been on the swimming team at UCB, and had played soccer for a while till he hurt his knee. He showed her the small scar of a minor surgery. He talked about his college years, and childhood before that, and of his career plans. He wanted to go to graduate school eventually, but was planning to work for several years first. He had it all mapped out. Tom knew where he was going, more than most young men his age.

They discovered that they both loved skiing, tennis, water sports, and a variety of other athletic pursuits, most of which she had no time for. She explained to him that she had to stay in shape, but actual sports were never on her agenda. She was too busy, and her mother didn't want her to get hurt, and be unable to go on tour. She made a fortune doing tours, although she didn't spell that out to Tom. She didn't have to. The money she pulled in now was outrageous, as he could only guess. She was far too discreet to say it, although Janet hinted often at how much money her daughter made. It still embarrassed Melanie, and her agent had warned Janet to be discreet, or it would put Melanie at risk. They had enough security headaches as it was, keeping her safe from her fans. It was something every major star in Hollywood had to think about these days—no one was exempt. Janet always minimized the dangers when talking to her daughter, so as not to frighten her, but often used a bodyguard herself. She pointed out that fans were dangerous sometimes. What she often forgot was that the fans were Melanie's, not hers.

“Do you ever get threatening letters?” he asked, as they lay drying off by the pool. He'd never thought about what it involved to protect someone in her position. Life had been so much simpler for her in the Presidio, but not for long. And he had had no idea that some of the men in her entourage were bodyguards who traveled with her.

“Sometimes,” she said vaguely. “I have. The only people who threaten me are nuts. I don't think they'd ever do anything about it. Some of them have written to me for several years.”

“To threaten you?” He looked horrified.

“Yes,” she laughed. It came with the territory, and she was used to it. She even got scary, passionate fan letters from men in maximum security prisons. She never responded. That was how stalkers happened, when they got out. She was extremely cautious about not wandering around public places on her own, and when she took them with her, her guards took good care of her. Whenever possible, she preferred not to use them when she was running around L.A. doing errands or visiting friends, and she said she preferred to drive herself.