Chapter 21 #2
Watch wasn’t used to climbing hills, and he went to sleep when they got home.
Dancy put away the clothes she’d dumped in the foyer last night, including the awful blue gown from the Peacock Gala she hadn’t been willing to leave in Clint’s guest closet.
As soon as she found the energy, she’d burn it.
She checked the online gossip sites and discovered that Roth and Bisa were reportedly holed up on Florida’s Jupiter Island
having a “babymoon.” How sweet for them.
Valerie still hadn’t called. Dancy couldn’t remember a time when Roth’s producing partner hadn’t instantly responded, and
she got the message. Valerie, too, had turned her back.
Dancy reassured Watch that she’d be back soon, got into her gray Infinity G35, and headed for the West Hollywood offices of
Hard Heart Productions.
A receptionist with a beard and a trendy faux-hawk haircut sat behind the sleek curved desk. Framed posters of Roth in Legend’s End and Sinner’s Legend decorated the wall behind him. As he looked up from his computer, she could tell he recognized her.
“I’m here to see Valerie,” she said.
“Ms. Evers isn’t available,” he replied too quickly.
Ignoring him, she strode toward the glass door. He jumped out from behind the desk. “Ms. Flynn, you can’t—”
“I already did.” Dancy shoved past him into the hallway as Valerie was coming out of her office. She spotted Dancy and dashed
back inside like a rat to her burrow. Dancy got there before she could lock the door and pushed her way in.
Valerie’s eyes widened behind the red, oversized frames of her glasses.
In her early forties, with cropped hair and a no-nonsense attitude, she’d become a power player in Hollywood thanks to her hard work and partnership with Roth.
Rows of glass shelves displayed plaques and mementos from her career, while the Baccarat crystal Mille Nuits vase that Roth and Dancy had given her to celebrate Legend in Gold, their highest-grossing film, occupied a place of honor on her desk.
Dancy used to tease Valerie about making certain the
vase showed up in any photos of her.
Valerie held out her arm like a traffic cop. “Dancy, you shouldn’t be here.”
“What happened to ‘Women take care of other women,’ Valerie?”
“Dancy, I—”
“That brilliant speech you gave to the Alliance of Women Directors? All about how women in Hollywood need to support each
other. You got a standing ovation for that speech. I had tears in my eyes.”
Valerie slipped behind her desk, putting a barrier between them. “You need to understand. I tried to talk Roth out of Gillian
Mays, but he was dead set on her.”
“We’re not talking about Roth. We’re talking about you. You knew exactly what he intended to do when he came to see me, but
you didn’t have the integrity to warn me.”
Valerie had the grace to look ashamed. “It sounds simple, but after what happened to you in Chicago—all that press—everything
was confusing. We’ve been concerned about you.”
“That’s crap! All either of you cared about was manipulating me into being his acting coach because you both know he needs
all the help he can get.”
Valerie carefully lowered herself into her ergonomic chair. “Roth is a perfectionist. You’re the only one he trusts with the
insight to walk him through a script. That’s incredibly flattering.”
Dancy regarded her incredulously. “Is that the best you can come up with?”
Valerie’s lips puckered, the accordion pleats around her mouth testifying to her decades as a secret cigarette smoker. “You know how tough this industry is. I have to be practical. Roth and I have been business partners for a long time.”
“And money always trumps integrity, right? And friendship.”
She looked down at her hands. “What do you want me to say?”
“It’s what you didn’t say.” With a sweep of her arm, Dancy sent Valerie’s prized crystal Mille Nuits vase shattering on the
marble floor. Valerie gasped and jumped to her feet. Dancy stepped over the broken glass on her way out the door. “Remember
this the next time you try to screw over another woman.”
All the way home she tried unsuccessfully to feel some sense of satisfaction, but what she’d done didn’t change anything.
By evening, the photos the hipsters and the yogi had taken of her were all over the internet.
Dancy Hides Her Heartbreak on Morning Walk
Dancy Flynn Puts on Brave Face Amidst Grief
Heartbroken Dancy Stays Home While Roth and Girlfriend Get Ready for New Baby
Never one to miss an opportunity, the merchandisers had also chimed in.
Buy Dancy’s JEJ T-shirt right here!
Copy Dancy’s No-Makeup Look!
She did kind of like one of the headlines.
Dancy’s New Canine Companion Eases Loneliness
“You look good,” she told Watch.
He seemed pleased.
She stumbled to her bedroom, tugged at her clothes, and got into bed only to stare at the ceiling. Minutes ticked by. She
shifted her weight and pulled the covers up only to shove them back down.
She didn’t want oblivion. She wanted revenge.
Clint’s fake chateau in Chicago’s western suburbs held too many bad memories, so he’d sold it at a loss after Ashley had been
murdered there. Since then, he’d been renting a fully furnished, four-bedroom duplex condo that had everything he needed and
nothing he loved. But it was convenient to the Stars complex in DuPage County, and he didn’t have to battle the expressway
traffic from the city like some of his teammates.
He sat in his lounger across from the TV with his two-and-a-half-year-old niece, Jemma, curled asleep in his lap. She smelled
like baby shampoo, crayons, and banana. He loved this kid so much it hurt.
Brett Rivers, his brother-in-law, former shark of an agent, and Jemma’s dad, emerged from the kitchen, where he’d ditched
their snack bags, two empty beer bottles, and a juice box. The Cubs were on the road playing the Yankees, and Brett had come
over so they could watch their team lose together. Knowing Clint would want to see Jemma, Brett had brought his daughter along.
In addition to being the CEO of Simply the Best chocolates, Brett was one of Clint’s closest friends.
He’d walked away from a career as one of the hardest-charging agents in professional sports and been a happier man ever since.
Was that what Clint needed to do to feel like himself again?
But if he walked away, he’d have to live the rest of his life knowing he was a failure.
Brett picked up his car keys and studied his former client. “Anything on your mind you want to talk about before I take off?”
Kristin would have told Rory about Dancy, and Rory would have told Brett, and it was none of their damned business. “New season,”
Clint said. “I have a lot on my mind.”
Brett was a good friend, and he backed off. “You know where I am if you want to talk.” He leaned down and picked up his sleeping
daughter.
Clint handed over her stuffed rabbit. As they headed for the door, Jemma nestled deeper into her father’s arms, full of trust.
The door closed behind them, and Clint was hit with a surge of emotion so painful he could hardly bear it.
Dancy forced herself to give a jaunty wave to the security cameras at the gates of her old home in Bel Air as she drove through.
Managing all their pesky security codes had been her job during their marriage, and she wasn’t surprised Roth hadn’t thought
to either change them or add them to Bisa’s list of duties.
She headed up the drive toward the Italian-style villa that she’d grown to detest but Roth saw as tangible proof of how far
he’d come. A white rental van driven by a burly twenty-year-old who didn’t speak much English followed her to the smaller
of the estate’s two vast garages. This code had also stayed the same, and the doors slid up smoothly.
It took Yakiv less than five minutes to complete the job she’d hired him for. When he was done, he drove back down the drive, this time with her following. She blew a kiss at the security cameras. Yakiv set off in one direction to finish the job, she in the other.
By the time she’d gotten home, the Wimlock Museum of Classic Motorcycles had issued their press release.
We are immensely grateful to actor Roth Hardy for the generous donation of his one-of-a-kind Neiman Marcus Limited Edition
Fighter motorcycle. This incredible act of philanthropy, the largest gift in the museum’s history, combined with Mr. Hardy’s
pledge to also gift the museum his historic 1950 Vincent White Lightning, means the Wimlock will now have one of the leading
collections in the world. Words cannot convey the depth of our gratitude to Mr. Hardy for his magnanimous donation.
Attached to the press release was a photo of the $10 million futuristic Fighter as well as Roth’s antique 1950 Vincent White
Lightning. The White Lightning was barely worth a million, but it was the first in his collection and his sentimental favorite.
She’d considered taking his new Ducati but decided that would be overkill.
All it had taken to pull this off was a few days’ work, a little research, and a perfectly forged document.
Her phone rang. Unlike Roth, she didn’t think it was polite to ignore an ex-spouse. “Look who’s finally returning my calls,”
she said to her ex as she poured a glass of iced tea.
Roth forgot that he didn’t believe in yelling. “You’re not getting away with this! I’m taking everything back!”
“That’ll be tough on your image, but you do you.”
His voice cracked. “I’m going to sue you!”
“Better talk with your PR team first. You already took a hit for divorcing your wife and knocking up a younger woman. Do you really want to sue the woman who stood by your side for five years?”
She had him trapped, and he knew it, but he wasn’t giving up. “I’ll make sure you never get another job.”
“I can’t get work now, so what does it matter? Have a nice life, Roth.”
She was shaking when she hung up, and the walls of the house closed in around her. She grabbed her sneakers and a backpack.
“Come on, Watch. Let’s go for a hike.”
When they got back two hours later, Clint was waiting for her.