"Before we switch to sports," the announcer said, "we have a special report from Amanda Blakesly, who's attending a fabulous weekend shindig in Pacific Palisades at the palatial estate of Zachary Benedict…"
The mention of Zack's name shut down conversations all over the restaurant as people glanced with nervous sympathy at Julie's booth, then began talking with renewed force in a futile effort to block out the volume of the set. When Ted, Katherine, and Paul also launched into a diversionary babble of conversation, Julie dismissed their efforts with a wave of her long fingers. "It doesn't bother me in the least," she told them, and to prove it, she perched her chin on her hand and sat there watching and listening, a faint, interested smile fixed on her lips. Her eyes wide and unblinking, she watched Zack talking affably to a throng of reporters while camera flashes exploded and Diana Copeland beamed at him, looking incredibly gorgeous. He was holding a glass of champagne in his hand … the same hand that had once caressed and intimately explored every inch of her body, and his lazy white smile was as devastatingly attractive as it had been in Colorado—more so because he was tanned now. "He certainly looks nice in a tuxedo," Julie remarked in an impartial voice to her uneasy group. "Don't you think so?"
"Not particularly," Paul said, watching her face lose what little color it had.
"Every man looks nice in a tuxedo," Katherine quickly pointed out. "Just look at the other men at the party. They all look nice. Even Jack Nicholson looks great in a tuxedo."
Julie muffled a laugh at Katherine's needless attempt to disparage Zack, but she didn't stop watching as the camera slowly panned the crowds of dancing, laughing, talking people, many of them with famous faces. She watched and she felt nothing, not even when someone called out to Diana, "How about a welcome home kiss for him, Diana?"
Unflinching, she watched Zack grin and oblige, sliding his arm around Diana's waist as she gave him a long, hot kiss that made the guests start to laugh and clap. Julie endured that without reaction, but when he bent his head and whispered something to Diana … or nipped her ear … the teasing, affectionate gesture gouged a hole in Julie's emotional barricade. Bastard, she thought with a flash of unjust angry pain that she squelched instantly. Firmly, she reminded herself that she had no reason to be angry with him just because he was happy and she was … dead inside. She liked not feeling anything, it was her choice, after all, and a very comforting choice.
Zack left with Diana, ending the brief interview, but the reporter wasn't finished. As the camera came in for a close-up, she told the audience with a conspiratorial smile, "There are rumors circulating around here tonight that a marriage between Zachary Benedict and long-time friend Diana Copeland might be imminent."
"How nice for him," Julie said brightly, looking around at everyone. "Oh, here's our dinner."
A half hour later, Paul watched Julie and Katherine heading to the ladies room, Julie's smile bright again, her conversation animated as they wended their way past the tables, pausing to talk to friends. Pulling his worried gaze from her back, he looked at Ted. "How much weight would you guess she's lost?"
"Too much. She laughs a lot, though," he added with pointed irony.
"She's got a strong will."
"Yep. She's working and playing with a vengeance."
"That's a good sign, isn't it?"
Ted sighed angrily. "It doesn't mean a damn thing, except she's trying to hide from her memories."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Among other obvious signs, when Julie is under stress, she organizes and tidies things up. In the last six weeks, in addition to teaching her classes, coaching her handicapped kids, giving private tutoring lessons, working on every civic and church committee in town, and taking charge of the Bicentennial Celebration, she has also wallpapered every room in her house; rearranged every closet, drawer, and cabinet she has; and repainted her garage. Twice. She has now descended to filing her groceries in alphabetical order in the kitchen cabinets."
Paul choked on a laugh. "She's what?"
"You heard me," Ted said, but he wasn't smiling. "And it's not funny. She's stressed to the max, and she's ready to break. Now I have a question for you," he added, leaning forward. "You got her into this nightmare and so did I. We worked on her, convincing her Benedict was guilty until she believed it. You made her go to Mexico City, like a lamb to the slaughter, and I went along with it. I accept my share of the blame. Do you dispute yours?"
Paul shoved his dessert plate aside and shook his head. "No."
Leaning forward, Ted said tersely, "Then suppose you and I come up with something to get her out of this mess!"
Paul nodded. "Let's talk about this tonight, after I take Julie home."
Chapter 71
Since Paul couldn't spend the night at Julie's house, even platonically, without causing a storm of local gossip on top of the gossip about her aborted relationship with Benedict, he'd started staying at Ted and Katherine's new apartment at their insistence when he came to Keaton.
The front door was unlocked when he got there after taking Julie home, and Ted was sitting in the living room, obviously waiting to talk to him. "This thing between Julie and Benedict has to be brought to a head," Ted said as soon as Paul sat down across from him. "Personally, I wish he'd drop off the face of the earth, but Katherine thinks that until Julie makes some sort of peace with him, she's not ever going to find peace with herself. Or with you, if that's what you're hoping for. Is it?"
Surprised and momentarily irritated by Ted's prying, Paul hesitated, then nodded curtly. "I'm in love with her."
"Katherine said as much. She also said that Julie's conscience is tearing her to pieces, though if anyone deserves to feel guilty it's that bastard, Benedict. All Julie did was offer him a ride because she thought he'd fixed her tire. As a result, there are 200 million people in this country who've seen that film of him being beaten in Mexico City, and now they blame her for it. The same people who applauded her courage for turning him in now think of her as some sort of scheming witch who brought an innocent man down on his knees. At least the people around here don't feel that way, and that's something. Not much, but something. The press still hounds her, trying to get her to talk, and their questions are vicious."
Katherine walked out of the bedroom in a robe and slippers, obviously determined to join the discussion, and sat on the arm of Ted's chair. Disregarding the subject of public opinion, which she felt was a trivial problem, she brought up the main issue. "Julie wrote letters to him when he was in prison, and he returned them unopened. Since he got out, she's written to him in care of his attorneys—simple, polite letters, this time asking him how to return the car he gave her. He won't answer those either. Until he does—until she or someone else can make him understand that Julie did not lie about wanting to join him in Mexico so that she could spring your trap, she's not going to let herself care for you or anyone else. Nor will she let any man care for her. Among other things, she's punishing herself."
The mention of Zack's name shut down conversations all over the restaurant as people glanced with nervous sympathy at Julie's booth, then began talking with renewed force in a futile effort to block out the volume of the set. When Ted, Katherine, and Paul also launched into a diversionary babble of conversation, Julie dismissed their efforts with a wave of her long fingers. "It doesn't bother me in the least," she told them, and to prove it, she perched her chin on her hand and sat there watching and listening, a faint, interested smile fixed on her lips. Her eyes wide and unblinking, she watched Zack talking affably to a throng of reporters while camera flashes exploded and Diana Copeland beamed at him, looking incredibly gorgeous. He was holding a glass of champagne in his hand … the same hand that had once caressed and intimately explored every inch of her body, and his lazy white smile was as devastatingly attractive as it had been in Colorado—more so because he was tanned now. "He certainly looks nice in a tuxedo," Julie remarked in an impartial voice to her uneasy group. "Don't you think so?"
"Not particularly," Paul said, watching her face lose what little color it had.
"Every man looks nice in a tuxedo," Katherine quickly pointed out. "Just look at the other men at the party. They all look nice. Even Jack Nicholson looks great in a tuxedo."
Julie muffled a laugh at Katherine's needless attempt to disparage Zack, but she didn't stop watching as the camera slowly panned the crowds of dancing, laughing, talking people, many of them with famous faces. She watched and she felt nothing, not even when someone called out to Diana, "How about a welcome home kiss for him, Diana?"
Unflinching, she watched Zack grin and oblige, sliding his arm around Diana's waist as she gave him a long, hot kiss that made the guests start to laugh and clap. Julie endured that without reaction, but when he bent his head and whispered something to Diana … or nipped her ear … the teasing, affectionate gesture gouged a hole in Julie's emotional barricade. Bastard, she thought with a flash of unjust angry pain that she squelched instantly. Firmly, she reminded herself that she had no reason to be angry with him just because he was happy and she was … dead inside. She liked not feeling anything, it was her choice, after all, and a very comforting choice.
Zack left with Diana, ending the brief interview, but the reporter wasn't finished. As the camera came in for a close-up, she told the audience with a conspiratorial smile, "There are rumors circulating around here tonight that a marriage between Zachary Benedict and long-time friend Diana Copeland might be imminent."
"How nice for him," Julie said brightly, looking around at everyone. "Oh, here's our dinner."
A half hour later, Paul watched Julie and Katherine heading to the ladies room, Julie's smile bright again, her conversation animated as they wended their way past the tables, pausing to talk to friends. Pulling his worried gaze from her back, he looked at Ted. "How much weight would you guess she's lost?"
"Too much. She laughs a lot, though," he added with pointed irony.
"She's got a strong will."
"Yep. She's working and playing with a vengeance."
"That's a good sign, isn't it?"
Ted sighed angrily. "It doesn't mean a damn thing, except she's trying to hide from her memories."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Among other obvious signs, when Julie is under stress, she organizes and tidies things up. In the last six weeks, in addition to teaching her classes, coaching her handicapped kids, giving private tutoring lessons, working on every civic and church committee in town, and taking charge of the Bicentennial Celebration, she has also wallpapered every room in her house; rearranged every closet, drawer, and cabinet she has; and repainted her garage. Twice. She has now descended to filing her groceries in alphabetical order in the kitchen cabinets."
Paul choked on a laugh. "She's what?"
"You heard me," Ted said, but he wasn't smiling. "And it's not funny. She's stressed to the max, and she's ready to break. Now I have a question for you," he added, leaning forward. "You got her into this nightmare and so did I. We worked on her, convincing her Benedict was guilty until she believed it. You made her go to Mexico City, like a lamb to the slaughter, and I went along with it. I accept my share of the blame. Do you dispute yours?"
Paul shoved his dessert plate aside and shook his head. "No."
Leaning forward, Ted said tersely, "Then suppose you and I come up with something to get her out of this mess!"
Paul nodded. "Let's talk about this tonight, after I take Julie home."
Chapter 71
Since Paul couldn't spend the night at Julie's house, even platonically, without causing a storm of local gossip on top of the gossip about her aborted relationship with Benedict, he'd started staying at Ted and Katherine's new apartment at their insistence when he came to Keaton.
The front door was unlocked when he got there after taking Julie home, and Ted was sitting in the living room, obviously waiting to talk to him. "This thing between Julie and Benedict has to be brought to a head," Ted said as soon as Paul sat down across from him. "Personally, I wish he'd drop off the face of the earth, but Katherine thinks that until Julie makes some sort of peace with him, she's not ever going to find peace with herself. Or with you, if that's what you're hoping for. Is it?"
Surprised and momentarily irritated by Ted's prying, Paul hesitated, then nodded curtly. "I'm in love with her."
"Katherine said as much. She also said that Julie's conscience is tearing her to pieces, though if anyone deserves to feel guilty it's that bastard, Benedict. All Julie did was offer him a ride because she thought he'd fixed her tire. As a result, there are 200 million people in this country who've seen that film of him being beaten in Mexico City, and now they blame her for it. The same people who applauded her courage for turning him in now think of her as some sort of scheming witch who brought an innocent man down on his knees. At least the people around here don't feel that way, and that's something. Not much, but something. The press still hounds her, trying to get her to talk, and their questions are vicious."
Katherine walked out of the bedroom in a robe and slippers, obviously determined to join the discussion, and sat on the arm of Ted's chair. Disregarding the subject of public opinion, which she felt was a trivial problem, she brought up the main issue. "Julie wrote letters to him when he was in prison, and he returned them unopened. Since he got out, she's written to him in care of his attorneys—simple, polite letters, this time asking him how to return the car he gave her. He won't answer those either. Until he does—until she or someone else can make him understand that Julie did not lie about wanting to join him in Mexico so that she could spring your trap, she's not going to let herself care for you or anyone else. Nor will she let any man care for her. Among other things, she's punishing herself."
