Danielle Steel - The Ranch

“I'm not sure what we do,” he said honestly. “I want to think about it for a while. But I wanted to warn you of the direction I'm going.”

“Kind of like a hurricane, or a flood, sort of a natural disaster,” she said, trying to smile, but tears kept springing to her eyes, and then Jean knocked on the door and stuck her head in.

“You're an hour late at the studio. The producer called, and he wanted to remind you the meter's running. The musicians want to know if they can take an early lunch and come back in an hour. And your agent called to remind you, he needs an answer from you today by four-thirty. Bennett Pearson called too. He needs you to call him as soon as you're finished.”

“Okay, okay.” Tanya put up a hand to stop her. “Tell the musicians to take lunch now. I'll be there in half an hour. Tell Tom to wait and we'll go over the arrangements.” And how in hell was she supposed to sing, and decide about Japan, a new film, another tour, and whether or not to pay a settlement to the blackmailer who had told his story in the morning paper? As Jean left the room again, she looked up at her husband. “I guess you're right. None of this is much fun, is it?”

“Sometimes it's lots of fun,” he said, “but most of the time it isn't. There's too high a price to pay for it,” he said honestly as he stood up. He felt like hell, but secretly he was relieved, as far as he was concerned, her life was an absolute nightmare. “Go do your recording, Tan. I'm sorry I made you late. We'll talk another time. There's nothing to resolve now. I'm sorry I took so much time.” No problem. An hour. Three years. It was great fun. Hell, who can blame you for wanting to bail out now? She watched him leave the room, torn between sorrow and hatred.

“Everything all right?” Jean was back in with a stack of messages for her, and a reminder that she had to leave for the studio in the next five minutes.

“Okay, okay, I'm going, and yes, I'm fine.” Fine. Everything was always fine, even when it wasn't. And she couldn't help wondering how long it would take the press to find out, if Tony left her. It shouldn't have been a consideration, but it was. The prospect of another round of stories on her seemed exhausting.

She washed her face before she left, and tried not to cry. She put on dark glasses, and Jean drove the car. She returned some of her calls from the car, and told her agent she'd do the concert tour, including Japan. She would be on the road the following year for nearly four months, but she could fly home from time to time, and she knew how important the concert tour was. She went straight into the studio when they arrived, and stayed until six o'clock, and then she went on to the rehearsal for the benefit, and didn't get home again until eleven o'clock that evening. And when she did, she found a note from Tony on the kitchen table. He had gone to Palm Springs for the weekend. She stood for a long moment, holding the note in her hand, wondering where their life had gone, and how long it would take him now to end it. The handwriting was on the wall, and it didn't take a clairvoyant to guess that he was on his way out. She thought about stopping him, about calling him in Palm Springs, and telling him how much she loved him, how sorry she was for all the pain she'd caused. But when she picked up the phone, she just stood there. Why wasn't he there for her? Why couldn't he take the same abuse that was being heaped on her? Why was he so willing to run? The only conclusion she could come to as she thought about it was that it was entirely possible Tony Goldman had never really loved her. And if that was truly the case, she would very probably never know it. She set down the phone, and with tears in her eyes, she walked quietly toward the silence of their bedroom.

When Tanya flew to New York, she took the record company's plane, and in order to be alone, she decided not to take her secretary with her. She really didn't need Jean for one TV show, and a meeting with a literary agent. Besides, she wanted some time to think about Tony. After his weekend in Palm Springs, he had come home dutifully on Sunday night. They'd had dinner with the kids, and nothing more was said about his unhappiness, or the stories in the tabloids. She didn't have the courage or the energy to broach either subject with him. And he was careful not to say anything more to her, He didn't even mention it when People magazine picked up the story of the lawsuit. He knew he had said enough, and he had already gone to the office when she left for the airport to go to New York on Tuesday.

The plane was waiting for her, and it was almost like having a commercial airliner all to herself. There was a company executive heading for New York onboard. He obviously knew who she was, but other than a curt hello, he said nothing more to her. And she made notes, and telephone calls, and worked on some music. Halfway to New York her lawyer called to tell her the ex-bodyguard wanted a million dollars to drop his lawsuit.

“Tell him I'll see him in court,” Tanya said coolly.

“Tanya, I don't think that's smart,” Bennett Pearson said calmly.

“I'm not going to pay people to blackmail me. He can't prove anything, he has no case. It's a complete fabrication.”

“It's his word against yours. You're a big star, and according to him, you went after him, you traumatized him, you fired him, you ruined his life because he wouldn't have sex with you…”

“It's all right, Bennett. You don't have to go through all of it. I know what he's claiming.”

“People could feel sorry for him. Juries are unpredictable these days. You have to think about that. What if they award him ten million dollars for his pain and suffering? How would you feel then?”

“Like I wanted to kill him.”

“Think about it. I think you should buy your way out. And a million is a nice clean number.”

“Do you know how hard I have to work for that? They don't just give that stuff away, you know.”

“You're going on tour next year. Take it out of that, and chalk it up to bad luck, like a fire in the house not covered by your insurance.”

“That's sick. This is nothing more than a holdup.”

“That's right, and it's been done before. To you, and to a lot of others.”

“It makes me sick to pay people like that.”

“Just give it some thought. You have enough other things on your plate without adding a lawsuit to it. The last thing you need is to give a deposition that will end up in the tabloids. It would be a matter of public record, and so would the proceedings.”

“All right, all right.”

“Call me from New York.” Why was it all so unpleasant? No wonder Tony wanted out. She wished she could walk out of her life too sometimes, but it was all inescapably attached to her, like warts, or cancer.

The flight to New York took only five hours, and she called Mary Stuart just before they landed. She said she'd be there in half an hour to pick her up, and Mary Stuart sounded excited to see her. Tanya called her again half an hour later from the car, and when she got there, her old friend was waiting downstairs, in jeans and a little cotton sweater. The two women hugged each other close, and Tanya took a long look at her friend in the dark car. Mary Stuart looked thinner and far more serious than she had a year before. The last year had obviously taken a tremendous toll on her. Tanya knew with Alyssa in Paris, it was even harder. But Alyssa had needed to be away from them, and Mary Stuart knew it, so she didn't complain about it.

“God, you never change,” Mary Stuart said, admiring her, amazed at how beautiful Tanya still looked, even at their age. It was as though the hands of time never touched her. “How do you do that?”

“Professional secrets, my dear,” she laughed, looking sexy and mysterious, and then they both laughed. But in spite of whatever surgery she'd had, she also had great skin, beautiful hair, and a fantastic figure. And she had a youthful look about her that had never left her. Mary Stuart looked well too, but she looked closer to their age than Tanya ever had. But keeping her looks wasn't Mary Stuart's business. “You're looking pretty good too, kid, in spite of everything,” Tanya dared to say it. It was hard to believe it had been a year, the worst in Mary Stuart's life, and probably Bill's, although he would never admit it.

“I think you've made a pact with the devil,” Mary Stuart complained. “It's not fair to the rest of us. What do you admit to now? Thirty-one? Twenty-five? Nineteen? They're going to think I'm your mother.”

“Oh, shut up. You look ten years younger than you are and you know it.”

“I wish.” But Mary Stuart knew just how hard the past year had been on her. In spite of what Tanya said, she could see it in the mirror.

They went to J.G. Melon's, as they had for years, and commented on the faces they still saw, or no longer did, and Tanya told her she was going on tour that winter.

“What does Tony think about that?” Mary Stuart looked at her over her hamburger, and there was a brief lull in the conversation, and then Tanya glanced up at her, and her expression spoke volumes.

“I haven't told him. I haven't actually seen much of him in the past few days. We… uh… I think I have a little problem.” Mary Stuart frowned in concern and listened. “He… uh… went to Palm Springs for a few days, and he thinks maybe we need a break this summer. He says he's going to Europe, while I take the kids to Wyoming.”

“Is he going on a religious pilgrimage, or is there something you're not saying?”

“No.” Tanya put her hamburger down, and looked at her old friend soberly. “I think there's something he's not saying yet, but he will. He just doesn't know it yet. He thinks he's still trying to make the decision. But I know the signs. He's already made it.”