Danielle Steel - The Ranch

“I'm coming to New York next week, that's why I called,” Tanya explained. “I figured in your busy life I'd better make a date with you, or you'd be having dinner with the governor and hitting him up for money for one of your causes.” Over the years, Tanya had been incredibly generous with the groups Mary Stuart cared about most, and twice she had donated her time and given a performance, but not in a while. Lately, she was just too busy. She never seemed to have a moment for herself now. And her current agent and manager were tougher than the ones she'd had before, who had cut her a little slack, but the new ones were pushing her to do more concerts. There were fortunes to be made, from albums made from the concerts, licensing deals for dolls and perfume and cutting new CD's and tapes and Tanya was hotter than she ever had been. They wanted her to capitalize on it, but at the moment she was leaning more toward making another movie. “I'm doing a TV show in New York,” she told Mary Stuart, “but actually I'm talking to some agent about writing a book. I got a call from a publisher, and I don't think I'm interested, but I'll listen to them. What's left to say about me?” There had already been four unauthorized biographies about her, all of them cruel, and mostly inaccurate, but she was generally good-natured about them. After the first one, which had come as a terrible blow, she had called Mary Stuart in the middle of the night in hysterics. They had been there for each other a lot over the years, and by now they both felt certain that they always would be. It was the kind of friendship you don't reproduce in later life. It begins, it grows, you nurture it from sapling to oak tree. Later on, the roots don't form the same way. Theirs had taken hold long since, and were there, buried in solid ground, for the duration.

“When are you coming in? I'll meet you at the airport,” Mary Stuart offered.

“I'll pick you up on the way into town, and we can go to the hotel and talk. I'll be in on Tuesday.” Tanya was flying in on the recording company's plane, as she always did. It was just like hopping in a car for her, and the casual way she flew around always amused Mary Stuart. “I'll call you from the plane.”

“I'll be here,” Mary Stuart said, feeling suddenly like a kid. There was something about the way Tanya swept her up and took her under her wing that made her feel young again, instead of a thousand years old. She grinned at the thought of seeing her again, it had been ages since the last time, she couldn't even remember when, although Tanya could, distinctly.

“See you, kiddo,” Tanya said, smiling at her end. And then, sounding more serious, and as gentle as Mary Stuart always remembered, “I love you.”

“I know.” She nodded as tears sprang to her eyes. It was kindness which Mary Stuart could no longer tolerate. The loneliness was so much easier to deal with. “I love you too,” she said, choking on her own words, and then,“… I'm sorry…” She closed her eyes, fighting back the waves of her own emotions.

“Don't be, baby… it's okay… I know… I know.” But the truth was she didn't. No one knew. No one could possibly understand what she felt now. Not even her husband.

“I'll see you next week,” Mary Stuart said, sounding composed again, but Tanya wasn't fooled. There was a flood of agony held behind the dam that Mary Stuart had built to keep her grief in check, and Tanya couldn't help wondering how long she could stand it.

“See you Tuesday. Just wear jeans. We'll go have a hamburger, or order room service or something. See ya…” And then she was gone, and Mary Stuart was thinking of her, and the days in Berkeley, before they had all moved on to their lives, before life had gotten so full, and so hard, and they had all had their dues to pay. It had all been so easy then… at first. Until Ellie had died, just before graduation. That had been their entry into the real world, and as she thought of it, she glanced at a photograph on her night table, of the four of them in freshman year. They looked like children to her now, even younger than her own daughter. She saw Tanya with her long blond mane, looking sexy and sensational, and Zoe with long red pigtails, so earnest and intense, and Ellie so ethereal with a little halo of blond curls, and Mary Stuart herself, all eyes and legs and long dark hair, looking straight into the camera. It seemed a hundred years ago, and it was. She thought about them for a long time, and eventually she fell asleep on her bed, in her jeans and her pink T-shirt. And when Bill came in at eleven o'clock, he found her there. He stood looking at her for a long time, and then turned off the light. He never spoke to her and never touched her, and she slept in her jeans all night. And when she woke the next morning, he had already gone back to the office. He had simply passed through her life once again, like the stranger he was now.

When Tanya Thomas woke up in her Bel Air bedroom the next day, Tony was already in the shower. They shared a single bedroom, and two huge, separate dressing rooms, each with their own separate bathroom. The bedroom was large and airy, decorated in French antiques, with enormous pink silk curtains, and miles of pink floral fabrics. Her dressing room and bath were pink marble, and the fabrics were pale pink silk there too. And Tony's bathroom was done entirely in black marble and granite. Black towels, black silk drapes, it was the consummate male bathroom.

She had bought the house years before, and had it all redone to suit Tony when they got married. Although he was extremely successful too, she knew he loved showing off her success. In spite of all the headaches associated with it, he loved letting people know that he was married to Tanya Thomas. The Hollywood scene had always appealed to him, and after years on the fringe, being catapulted into the very heart of it had always seemed like an extraordinary bonus. He loved going to Hollywood parties, and chatting with the stars, and he liked going to the Academy Awards and the Golden Globes, and especially Barbara Davis's gala events, far more than Tanya did. After eighteen hours of work, she was happier staying home at night, sinking into a warm tub, and listening to someone else's music.

She put a pink satin robe over her lace nightgown while he was still getting dressed, and she went down-stairs to make him something for breakfast. There were other people in the house who could have done as much for him, but Tanya liked doing it, and she knew it meant a lot to Tony. She cooked for his kids whenever she could too, and she was a good cook. She cooked a good steak, and had introduced them all to grits, and took a lot of teasing for it, but they loved them. She liked making pasta for him too. There were a lot of things she liked doing for Tony. She liked making love to him, and being alone with him, and going on trips with him, and discovering new places, but there was never enough time, there were always rehearsals, and recording sessions, movies, and concerts, benefits, and countless hours spent poring over documents and contracts with her attorneys. Tanya was more than a singer or an actress now, she was an empire, an industry unto itself, and she had learned a lot about the business, the hard way.

She poured orange juice while she waited for him, and broke eggs into a frying pan as the butter began to sizzle. And as she dropped the toast into the toaster, and started the coffee for him, she opened the morning paper. Her heart sank as she read the second lead item. It was about a former employee suing her, allegedly for sexual harassment. It was the first she had heard of it, and as she read the article, she recognized the name of a bodyguard they'd had for two weeks the year before, and had fired for stealing. He had given a lengthy interview, claiming that she had tried to seduce him, and when he refused her, she fired him without reason or explanation. Tanya knew as she read the piece, with a sickening feeling, that like all the other lawsuits in which she'd been involved, in the end they'd wind up paying him off just to settle it, and unload him. There never seemed to be any way to defend herself anymore, to prove to anyone that she was innocent, that it was all lies, and that it was a form of blackmail. She knew that her husband knew that too, and he was always the first one to tell her to settle, no matter how outrageous the claim, or the attack. It was just simpler that way. But she also knew that Tony would be livid when he saw the paper. She folded it carefully and put it away, and a moment later, he walked into the kitchen wearing his golf clothes.

“Aren't you going to work today?” she asked conversationally, trying to look relaxed as she sliced an avocado, and put the finishing touches on his breakfast.

“Where have you been for the last three years?” He looked startled by her question. “I always play golf on Fridays.” He was a good-looking man with dark hair, and a powerful build, in his late forties. He played a lot of tennis and golf, and worked out in a gym he had built at the opposite end of the house, with his personal trainer, not the one who had recently appeared in the tabloids. “Where's the paper?” he asked as he sat down and looked around. He read the Los Angeles Times and the Wall Street Journal every morning. He was an outstanding businessman, and had made a fortune in real estate development in the years when it really counted. But his money was of no interest to Tanya. It was his kindness which had originally appealed to her, his decency, his kids, and his family values. As far as she was concerned, he was just a regular guy going to work every day, and playing ball with his sons on the weekend. And she particularly liked the fact that he wasn't in “the business.” What she hadn't figured on originally was that he liked all of the Hollywood trappings a lot more than she did. He liked all of it, but he didn't like paying his dues for the lifestyle. He liked the glitter but not the price you had to pay to be there. And Tanya knew you couldn't have one without the other. In fact, Tony complained constantly about the aggravations they had to endure, and the infuriating stories in the tabloids.

“You can't have it both ways,” she had explained to him early on. “You can't have the glory without the pain,” she'd said softly, and offered to retire the first time after they were married that the tabloids made ugly accusations about her, and talked about all her old boyfriends. But he insisted that he didn't want her to retire. He thought she would be bored. She had suggested they give it all up and have a baby. But he liked what she did, and so did she, so she kept doing it, and they kept rallying from the attacks, and the death threats, and the lawsuits. She still refused to have a bodyguard full-time, and only hired one when she went to an event wearing a lot of borrowed jewelry.

“So where's the paper?” he asked again, digging into his eggs, and glancing up at her, and he saw immediately in Tanya's eyes that something had happened. “What's up?”

“Nothing,” she said vaguely, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Come on, Tanya,” he said, looking annoyed. “It's written all over your face. You won't win the Oscar for this one.” She smiled ruefully at him and shrugged. He'd find out anyway. She just hadn't wanted it to be over breakfast. Without saying another word, she handed the paper to him, and watched as she saw him read the story. She could see the muscles work in his jaw and neck, but he didn't say a word until he finished it, and put down the paper. And then he looked up at her with a grim expression. “That's going to cost you. I hear sexual harassment suits are really paying big now.” He said it unemotionally, but it was easy to see that he was very angry. “What did you say to him?” His eyes bore into hers as he asked her, and Tanya looked at her husband in amazement.

“What did I say to him? Are you crazy? Do you think I said anything to him? I told him where the studio was and what time I had to be at rehearsal. That's what I said to him. How can you even ask me?” There were tears in her eyes as she looked at him, and Tony seemed uncomfortable as he took a sip of coffee.

“I just wondered if you said anything he could build this on, that's all. I mean, hell, the guy certainly tells quite a story.”

“So does everyone,” she said sadly, her eyes never leaving Tony's. “It's no different than anything else. It's just plain greed and envy. He saw money, and he wants it. He figures he can embarrass me into paying him to shut up.” She'd been through it before, not just with discrimination suits, but with unlawful terminations, real estate claims, accident claims from previous employees. Everyone hoped that by suing her they would get a piece of the action. It was old news in Hollywood, and other places these days, but it still wasn't pretty when it happened. And although he understood the reasons for it, Tony had never gotten used to it, and he didn't like it. He said it was hard on his kids and his family, it made him an object of ridicule and even gave his ex-wife something to complain about. He just didn't need it. Tanya knew only too well how Tony reacted to these stories. First he pretended they didn't bother him, then he got increasingly more disagreeable as the plot unfolded, and eventually he put as much pressure on her as the lawyers did to just get out of it, and settle. But through it all he acted like the injured party. And eventually, after he had made her pay for it for a while, he decided to forgive her. It was becoming an old familiar story, and she didn't enjoy it.