Glitter Baby by Susan Elizabeth Phillips Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Susan Elizabeth Phillips
wanted Alexi to see her with it.
While she waited for him, she tried to calm herself by studying the other patrons. Van Heflin sat with a tiny blonde. She spotted Greer Garson and Ethel Merman at separate tables, and, across the room, one of the studio executives she had met when she was with Flynn. A page dressed in a brass-buttoned jacket came through. “Call for Mis-tuh Heflin. Call for Mis-tuh Heflin.” Van Heflin lifted his hand, and a pink telephone appeared at his table.
As she toyed with the long, cool stem of her glass, she tried not to notice that her hands were trembling. Alexi wouldn’t arrive at five o’clock. She’d damaged his pride the last time they were together. But would he come at all? She couldn’t imagine what she’d do if he didn’t.
Gregory Peck and his new French wife, Veronique, arrived. Veronique was a former newspaperwoman, dark-haired and beautiful, and envy coiled inside Belinda. Veronique’s famous husband gave her a private smile and said something only she could hear. Veronique laughed and placed her hand over his, the gesture tender and proprietary. In that instant Belinda hated Veronique Peck as she had never hated another human being.
At six o’clock Alexi walked into the Polo Lounge. He paused in the doorway to exchange a few words with the maître d’ before he moved toward her banquette. He was dressed in a pearl-gray silk suit, immaculate as always, and several people greeted him as he passed their tables. She had forgotten how much attention Alexi attracted. Flynn had said it was because Alexi had the uncanny ability to turn old money into new.
He slid wordlessly into the banquette, bringing with him the expensive scent of his cologne. His expression was unfathomable, and a small shiver slid down her spine.
“Château Haut-Brion, 1952,” he said to the waiter. He gestured toward her half-finished martini. “Take that away. Mademoiselle will have wine with me.”
As the waiter disappeared, Alexi lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. She tried not to think about the last time they were together when his kiss hadn’t been gentle at all.
“You seem nervous, ma chère .”
The small collection of cells relentlessly multiplying inside her made doubts impossible, and she lifted her shoulders in a casual shrug. “It’s been a long time. I—I missed you.” Her sense of injustice sprang to the surface. “How could you go off like that? Without calling me or anything.”
He looked amused. “You needed time to think, chérie. To see how you liked being alone.”
“I didn’t like it at all,” she retorted.
“I didn’t think you would.” He studied her as if she’d been mounted between glass slides and pushed under a microscope. “Tell me what you learned during your time of introspection.”
“I learned that I’ve grown to depend on you,” she replied carefully. “Everything fell apart after you left, and you weren’t around to help me put it back together. I guess I’m not as independent as I thought.”
The waiter appeared with the wine. Alexi took a sip, gave a distracted nod, and waited until they were alone before returning his attention to her. She told him what had taken place in the past month: her failure to capture the interest of a single producer, the fact that her parents would no longer support her. She told him all her miseries except the most important one.
“I see,” he said. “So much to have happened in such ashort time. Are there any more disasters you need to lay at my feet?”
She swallowed hard. “No, nothing else. But I’m out of money, and I need you to help me make some decisions.”
“Why don’t you go to your former lover? Surely he’ll help you. I’m certain he’ll rush to your side on his white charger, sword flashing, slaying your villains. Why don’t you go to Flynn, Belinda?”
She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep her tongue in check. Alexi didn’t understand Flynn—he never
While she waited for him, she tried to calm herself by studying the other patrons. Van Heflin sat with a tiny blonde. She spotted Greer Garson and Ethel Merman at separate tables, and, across the room, one of the studio executives she had met when she was with Flynn. A page dressed in a brass-buttoned jacket came through. “Call for Mis-tuh Heflin. Call for Mis-tuh Heflin.” Van Heflin lifted his hand, and a pink telephone appeared at his table.
As she toyed with the long, cool stem of her glass, she tried not to notice that her hands were trembling. Alexi wouldn’t arrive at five o’clock. She’d damaged his pride the last time they were together. But would he come at all? She couldn’t imagine what she’d do if he didn’t.
Gregory Peck and his new French wife, Veronique, arrived. Veronique was a former newspaperwoman, dark-haired and beautiful, and envy coiled inside Belinda. Veronique’s famous husband gave her a private smile and said something only she could hear. Veronique laughed and placed her hand over his, the gesture tender and proprietary. In that instant Belinda hated Veronique Peck as she had never hated another human being.
At six o’clock Alexi walked into the Polo Lounge. He paused in the doorway to exchange a few words with the maître d’ before he moved toward her banquette. He was dressed in a pearl-gray silk suit, immaculate as always, and several people greeted him as he passed their tables. She had forgotten how much attention Alexi attracted. Flynn had said it was because Alexi had the uncanny ability to turn old money into new.
He slid wordlessly into the banquette, bringing with him the expensive scent of his cologne. His expression was unfathomable, and a small shiver slid down her spine.
“Château Haut-Brion, 1952,” he said to the waiter. He gestured toward her half-finished martini. “Take that away. Mademoiselle will have wine with me.”
As the waiter disappeared, Alexi lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. She tried not to think about the last time they were together when his kiss hadn’t been gentle at all.
“You seem nervous, ma chère .”
The small collection of cells relentlessly multiplying inside her made doubts impossible, and she lifted her shoulders in a casual shrug. “It’s been a long time. I—I missed you.” Her sense of injustice sprang to the surface. “How could you go off like that? Without calling me or anything.”
He looked amused. “You needed time to think, chérie. To see how you liked being alone.”
“I didn’t like it at all,” she retorted.
“I didn’t think you would.” He studied her as if she’d been mounted between glass slides and pushed under a microscope. “Tell me what you learned during your time of introspection.”
“I learned that I’ve grown to depend on you,” she replied carefully. “Everything fell apart after you left, and you weren’t around to help me put it back together. I guess I’m not as independent as I thought.”
The waiter appeared with the wine. Alexi took a sip, gave a distracted nod, and waited until they were alone before returning his attention to her. She told him what had taken place in the past month: her failure to capture the interest of a single producer, the fact that her parents would no longer support her. She told him all her miseries except the most important one.
“I see,” he said. “So much to have happened in such ashort time. Are there any more disasters you need to lay at my feet?”
She swallowed hard. “No, nothing else. But I’m out of money, and I need you to help me make some decisions.”
“Why don’t you go to your former lover? Surely he’ll help you. I’m certain he’ll rush to your side on his white charger, sword flashing, slaying your villains. Why don’t you go to Flynn, Belinda?”
She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep her tongue in check. Alexi didn’t understand Flynn—he never