They had an even bigger suite at the Bel-Air this time, and the same swans were there, swimming in the stream, and wandering the grounds. The hotel was peaceful, and the room was spectacular. She was still looking around after they set down her bags, when she heard the door open and turned to see Leslie beaming at her. He had been terrified she'd change her mind and cancel at the last minute, and he took her in his arms with such force he knocked the breath out of her. They were like two long-lost children who had found each other after a war. The past four days had been agony for both of them.
“I thought you'd never come!” he said, squeezing her tight, and then holding her away so he could look at her. She looked very grown up. She was wearing jeans with a soft white sweater that showed off her figure, a suede jacket, and sexy high heels. Her hair was brushed long, and there were tiny diamond earrings on her ears. He had never seen her that dressed up, and was impressed to see what good taste she had and how well she put herself together. Even when they had gone out to dinner in San Francisco, they had both been casual. He had never seen Coco look that way before. “Wow!” he said with admiration. “You're a knockout!”
“I feel like Cinderella at the ball. I may turn into a pumpkin any minute.”
“Well, if you do, you're my pumpkin, and I will chase you all over the kingdom with the glass slipper.” Her shoes were Louboutin and worthy of any star. As a connoisseur of stylish women, he recognized the signature red soles. “I like the ones you're wearing, by the way.” He was full of admiration and praise of her. And he looked wonderful to her too. He was wearing one of his perfectly tailored custom-made English shirts, jeans, and alligator loafers, with a cashmere sweater over his shoulders. He'd had a haircut, and they had put a rinse in his hair to cover the few wisps of gray. It was even darker than before. He looked like the Leslie Baxter she had seen on the screen a hundred times before. But his eyes told her he was hers. That was all she wanted to know.
She complimented him on the fancy room, which he said was courtesy of the producer. “He said we can use his house in Malibu for the weekend. We should be private there. It's in the Colony, so we'll be secluded.” He had thought of everything to make her happy and keep them safe from prying eyes. He poured them each a glass of champagne. “To our future,” he said happily and then kissed her. She helped herself to a giant strawberry and fed one to him, and ten minutes later they were in bed. It seemed like centuries since she had been in his arms, and they both wanted to make up for lost time. They never got around to ordering lunch, and he had to rush back to the studio for another meeting to address the director's changes in the script. Coco got into the bath as he left, and he promised to be back by six.
She called her mother that afternoon, and her secretary told Coco that she was writing a new book. Coco didn't say she was in L.A., and she spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the grounds and reading a book she had brought with her. The weather was warm, and Leslie came back an hour late at seven. They stayed in the room that night and ordered dinner, watched TV, and talked about his meeting. He liked the cast and the producer, he knew the director and said he was difficult but usually got great results. He had worked with him before. They weren't starting in earnest until they got to Venice. He complained a little about one of his costars, and he commented that Madison Allbright, the female lead, who Coco knew was a megastar, was a very pretty girl.
“Should I be worried?” she asked, as they lay on the couch in the living room of the suite, with his head in her lap. She was stroking his hair, and he looked like a sleepy cat as he lay there, nearly purring with pleasure. He had missed her incredibly in the past four days.
“You don't need to worry about anything or anyone,” he reassured her. “I'm the one who should be worried, the way you looked when you arrived.” She had hung all her new clothes in the closet, and had sent the cocktail dress out to be pressed, so it would be impeccable for the producer's party the following night. Leslie hadn't told her yet that there would be press at the party. He didn't want to scare her. But there was no reason to worry. As far as they knew, she was just a date. It was only after they'd seen her a few times that they would catch on that this was a hot item, and she was his new romance. His psychotic ex-girlfriend was already engaged, so that was ancient history and of no interest anymore. Their brief alliance had been typical of Hollywood romances that came and went, even though it had been more troublesome than most, but at least he had managed to keep that out of the press, despite her statements and accusations that he was gay. Everyone had forgotten that by now.
They went to bed early since he had an early meeting, and Chloe called them before they fell asleep. She was up late with a babysitter, she said, her mother was out. She had started school that day and told them all about it. She was in first grade, and said she already had lots of friends. She reported to Coco that the pink bear named after her was doing well. For Coco, it was a taste of their summer idyll to talk to her again.
They both slept like tired children in the comfortable bed, and the operator woke them at seven the next morning. Leslie had to be at the studio no later than eight that morning, and he had a long day ahead. He told her with regret that he wouldn't be able to meet her for lunch as they were working straight through till six or seven, to address all of the director's notes for them. The party they were attending was scheduled to start at eight. Leslie was coming back to change and pick her up. And she said she'd be dressed by then. She was planning to get her hair done that afternoon.
“Will you be all right today?” he asked, looking worried as he finished breakfast. He had a cup of coffee to wake him up, while she drank tea.
“I'll be fine.” She smiled at him. “I'll do some shopping and go to the museum.” It had once been her city, and she knew it well. There were old friends she could have seen, but she didn't want to. She came here so seldom now that she had lost touch with most of them. And her life was very different than her classmates who had turned into Beverly Hills housewives, or were in the entertainment field now themselves, either acting or producing. She was one of the few who had fled. Most of them loved L.A.
Leslie kissed her goodbye when he left, and told her that he had ordered a car and driver for her. She showered and dressed and left the hotel herself at ten. No one paid any attention to her since there was nothing to link her to Leslie yet. She was still an anonymous civilian as she wandered in and out of shops on Melrose, ate lunch at Fred Segal, and went to the L.A. County Museum of Art. She was at the hairdresser at the hotel by four o'clock, and back in their room by six. She had just enough time to bathe, do her makeup, and dress, before Leslie walked in promptly at seven. He looked exhausted and was carrying his dog-eared script with a million jotted notes on it. They were getting new scripts the next day, which would include all the changes they'd just made. He had a lot of complicated lines to learn.
“How was your day?” he asked when he kissed her. It was a thrill for him to see her when he finished work. She was the peace and haven he came to, to seek refuge from the pressures he lived with when he was working. He loved having her be part of his normal life. It was everything he had hoped for when they talked about it, and he had never dared to dream.
“It was fun,” Coco said, looking relaxed and happy, as he smiled admiringly at what she was wearing. She had on a thong, a black lace bra, her earrings, and high-heeled shoes, and her hair looked long and smooth. She was going to put her dress on at the last minute so she didn't crease it before that.
“Nice dress,” he teased her, admiring her long shapely legs and perfect figure. He thought she looked fantastic. She had had a manicure and pedicure at the hairdresser too. Even before she put her dress on, she looked beautiful and sophisticated. The dog-walker he'd fallen in love with in San Francisco had transformed into a swan. He loved the original version, but he had to admit, he liked this one too.
He rushed into the bathroom to shower and shave, and he emerged a few minutes later, freshly shaven, with wet hair, buttoning an impeccable white shirt. He put on black slacks, a black cashmere blazer, and black alligator loafers, and while he was dressing, she put on the black cocktail dress. It was both sexy and demure, just low enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, but covered enough to be discreet. She looked so beautiful she took his breath away, and they stood admiring each other with a look of pleasure. It was the first night they were going out in public together in Leslie's world.
“You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen,” he said, looking dazzled by her as they left the room. She had a small black satin clutch under her arm. Everything she'd bought had been chic and enhanced her looks to perfection. He tucked her hand in his arm as they walked to the driveway to the car waiting for them, and a photographer snapped their picture. Coco looked startled for a moment and then recovered as they got into the car. She didn't comment, and Leslie patted her hand gently, and they chatted all the way to the producer's house which was nearby in Bel-Air.
When they got there, it was a palatial mansion and there were valet parkers. It was obviously a bigger party than they'd expected, but there were a lot of big-name stars associated with the film. There were no paparazzi outside, and Leslie whisked her in, relieved that there weren't, and a moment later they were standing in a marble hallway with a grand staircase and an art collection worthy of the Louvre. There were two Renoirs, a Degas, and a Picasso, and as they walked into the living room, a crowd of people stood among beautiful antiques and priceless art. The producer greeted them warmly and kissed Coco's cheek.
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