"No more work," Sadie said bossily, proving Claudia's theory. "It's seven, and it's time to stop."
"Guys, I need to call Sally-Anne before she takes a job with someone else," Claudia said wearily.
She'd been feeling so tired lately. Partly because she was having trouble sleeping, but also because she just wasn't getting the same kick out of work that she used to.
"Sally-Anne is not leaving this show, she loves it more than her own children and she would go insane if she didn't have us all to boss around. Let her wait until tomorrow and then she'll feel a bit stupid about what happened and all will be well," Grace said, unpacking the bags and laying out a daunting array of boxes.
"Good Lord, did you buy the whole restaurant?" Claudia asked.
"Some of us are eating for two," Sadie said, patting the cutest baby bump the world had ever seen. From behind, she didn't look as though she were pregnant at all, but her belly had popped out in a gentle bump in the last two weeks.
"And some of us aren't eating at all," Grace said meaningfully.
Claudia frowned and shifted some paperwork around on her desk.
"I'm eating," she said defensively.
"Not enough. So here's the deal-either you eat, or you talk to us. One or the other, although to be honest we'd love you to do both," Grace said. "We're worried about you."
"There's no need to worry about me. I'm fine, more than fine," Claudia said.
"Bullshit," Grace said, pulling up a chair.
"You're a bag of bones, Claud," Sadie said, prying the lid off a container of steamed rice. "How much weight have you lost?"
"I don't know. I haven't weighed myself in months. I've just been busy, that's all."
"You've been throwing yourself into work like a complete obsessive, running yourself into the ground. We all know this is about Leandro, and if you still don't want to talk about it, that's fine-but you have to eat," Grace said.
Sadie shoveled rice, kung pao chicken and beef in black bean sauce onto a plate and pushed it toward Claudia. Claudia's stomach rumbled and she picked up a fork. It wasn't that she had no appetite, or that she hadn't been eating. It was more that she could only eat so much. A few mouthfuls, and she'd had enough. But she knew that was not going to satisfy her friends tonight.
"Have you heard from him at all?" Sadie asked.
Claudia stiffened. "Look, this is all very sweet, guys, but I'm not hung up on Leandro, okay?"
Even as she said it she could feel a blush rising into her cheeks. She'd never been good at lying to her two best friends. Ever since she'd met Grace and Sadie at the University of California Los Angeles all those years ago, they'd been the ones she turned to in good times and bad. No one knew her like these two women.
Neither Sadie or Grace called her on her lie, however. For a moment there was just the clink of cutlery on plates as they ate in silence, then Claudia put her fork down and sighed heavily. A part of her wanted to talk, even though she was afraid of how much pain she'd been holding inside her. She'd expected to walk away from her fling to Leandro and get on with her life. That's what she'd always done in the past. But he had touched something inside her, made her dream dreams she hadn't even known she'd wanted.
"I haven't spoken to him. Haven't seen him, nothing. Which is what I wanted. And, anyway, it didn't end too well. He was angry with me, and I got angry back."
Picking up her fork again, she pushed her food around on her plate, getting mad all over again as she recalled his parting words to her.
"He said I was a coward because I didn't want to have a relationship that I already knew was doomed to failure. I was doing the smart thing for both of us, and he just couldn't see it," she said hotly.
"Why was it the right thing, Claud?" Grace asked quietly.
Claudia stared into Grace's clear green eyes.
"Because it had no future. You guys know me. I don't want marriage and kids and a house in the suburbs."
Sadie made an unconvinced noise.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Claudia asked.
"It means I think you want to love and be loved just as much as everyone else in the world. But you think your childhood makes you a bad risk," Sadie said.
"I know it does. You guys have met my mother," Claudia said, feeling distinctly under attack. Sadie and Grace knew all the things she'd been through-hell, hadn't they walked the streets with her just weeks ago, looking for her mother?
"You're not your mother, Claudia," Grace said.
"But I could be. She had a career before she met my father. Then they got married, and the babies came, and she fell apart. She hated being at home. She couldn't handle us kids. And she felt she'd given up too much to be a wife and mother. So she drank. And she never stopped."
"Who's to say the same thing will happen to you? You've had a completely different life from your mother's. You're more educated, more affluent, you don't drink at all, Claudia. And you're self-aware, you know what the issues are. Don't all those things mean you have the best chance in the world of not being like your mother?" Grace said.
"And what if they're not enough? What if there's some gene that's just waiting to switch on inside me, or some innate, subconscious learning I took in with my mother's breast milk? What if it's just in me, like it was in her?"
A hundred ugly memories rushed up to haunt her-the time Talia had flown into an alcohol-induced rage and screamed at her and her brothers until they all cowered in the corner, scared of the banshee who had once been their mother. The time her mother had insulted her and told her off in public because Claudia had dared to move the wine bottle out of her mother's reach. She'd been just thirteen, and the memory burned still. Then there were the many, many times her mother had lain on her bed sobbing uncontrollably for hours, lost in private misery.
Quivering with emotion, Claudia leaned across the desk, her finger stabbing the air to emphasize her point. "I will never, ever put children in that situation, do you hear me? I never want another kid to go through what George and Cosmo and I had to go through," Claudia said, her voice breaking. "Never."
Tears threatened, but she choked them back. It would be so much easier if she hated her mother. But she didn't. She loved her with all her heart for the gentle times between her despair and her rages. The elaborate cakes she'd baked for birthdays, the games she used to play with them, her insistence in believing that if Claudia wanted to be a producer, she could make it, despite the odds. She loved her mother desperately-which was why it hurt so much every time Talia let them all down.
Springing up from her chair, Sadie rounded the desk to rub Claudia's back.
"We didn't mean to upset you, Claud," she said softly.
"We love you more than anything, you know that. We just want you to be happy," Grace said.
"I am happy," Claudia said.
There was a speaking silence for a beat.
"Okay, I'm miserable at the moment, but I'll get over it," Claudia conceded. "I fell in love with the wrong man. I knew I was doing it, but I still let it happen. And I miss him. I miss him so much my skin aches with it."
She closed her eyes as she thought of the dreams she'd had where she was with Leandro again, lying in his big arms. She'd forced herself out of each and every one of them-the reason her sleep pattern had gone to the dogs-but it didn't stop them from coming.
"Claud, I know you think breaking the cycle is about not having kids, not having a family, but maybe that's the wrong way to look at it. Maybe breaking the cycle is about doing all those things, but making sure that your kids never know what it's like to live like that," Grace said.
Claudia felt a thrill of fear, followed by a surge of anger.
"And whose lives am I gambling with? Children can't choose their parents. They're utterly defenseless. What if I'm not strong enough, like my mother? Who pays the price then?" she asked.
Grace and Sadie both looked a little pale, and Claudia realized she'd been yelling.
"Sorry. I'm tired, and you're right, I haven't been looking after myself. I'm just going to go home and get a good night's sleep," Claudia said, running a hand through her hair.
Without saying a word, Grace started to scrape Claudia's virtually untouched meal into one of the take-away containers.
"It's not pretty, but it will taste just the same," she said as she handed the box over to Claudia. "We had a deal remember-talk or eat."
Claudia dredged up a smile. Even when she was being stubborn and horrible and incommunicative, these women still loved her.
"I'll eat it, I promise."
They all stood, and Claudia gave them each a fierce hug.
"You're the best, and I'm sorry for being such a psycho at the moment. I'll be fine."
Sadie and Grace both nodded, and Claudia grabbed her handbag, briefcase and the Chinese food then escaped to her car.
Only when she was alone did she let her shoulders sag. She felt so...alone at the moment. Despite her friends. Despite filling every waking moment with work. Leandro had shown her how it could be-how it felt to never be alone, even when that other person wasn't physically with her. He'd filled all the empty places in her heart and her life and now that he was gone, she was painfully aware of all that was missing.
Knowing that Sadie and Grace would be walking out to their cars any minute, also, Claudia forced herself to pull it together. She'd been strong all her life. She wasn't going to fall in a heap now.
Her thoughts shifted to her mother as she pulled out into the traffic. Talia had surprised the world and listened to her doctors when she recovered from her alcoholic binge. She'd been receiving treatment at a residential rehabilitation center for three weeks now. Part of the process required that she have no visitors for the first two weeks, and last week her father had gone to see her for the first time. Her brother George reported that her father had been shaken by the experience-apparently Talia had been edgy and easily agitated, nothing like her usual self. The fact that her usual self was usually well-sedated thanks to several glasses of strong drink was something that they'd both left unsaid. As usual.
But her mother was in treatment. Even though Claudia had taught herself not to care, not to believe in second chances where her mother was concerned, there was a tiny part of her soul holding its breath in hope. If only...
She shook her head as she stopped at a traffic light in West Hollywood. She was so stupid, so ready to step on the roller coaster ride of faith and betrayal again. How many times would she have to get slapped in the face by the same reality before she learned to duck?
The sound of laughter drew her attention to the sidewalk seating of a popular eatery to her right. It was a warm night, and the tables were overflowing with Los Angelenos filling up on cool drinks and fancy food. Claudia thought of her Chinese takeaway and the empty house she was going home to. She really had to make an effort to pull herself out of the doldrums. She wasn't a wallower, and it was time to stop acting like one.
Her eye was caught by the colorful shimmer of a bright pink and turquoise summer dress on a dark-haired woman weaving her way through the outdoor tables. Claudia looked down ruefully at her own black-on-black ensemble. Maybe she should think about breaking out of her little black box, also.
Still waiting for the light to change, she idly followed the sway of the other woman's hips as she walked. The man waiting for her stood politely as she approached, and a lurch of adrenaline kicked into Claudia's belly as she recognized him.
It was Leandro. Leandro, out with another woman. Claudia's gaze darted to the woman again, taking in the olive skin, the long curly dark hair, the sexy figure. Jealousy ripped through her like a knife. She wanted to get out of the car, stride across the sidewalk and forcibly drag the woman away.
Claudia shot her gaze back to him, greedily taking in his easy smile, the charming tilt of his head as he asked his dinner companion something, how broad his shoulders looked in a crisp white shirt.
The angry honk of a car horn rocketed her from her trance. The light had changed. Some time ago, she guessed, since the guy behind her was swearing and giving her the finger. She pressed her foot down on the accelerator reflexively, sending the Cayenne racing out into the intersection with a burst of noisy speed.
Leandro had moved on. It was time for her to do the same.
10.
LEANDRO GLANCED away from the woman sitting opposite him and out into the street, his attention drawn first by the belligerent honk of a horn, then the overzealous revving of a car engine. Personally, he hated dining in sidewalk cafes at busy intersections, but his date had chosen the venue and the table so he was playing nice. His whole body went on alert as he caught a glimpse of the tail end of a silver Porsche Cayenne disappearing across the intersection.
He hadn't caught the number plate, but it might have been Claudia. His thigh muscles bunched, ready to propel him to his feet and out into the street so he could get a better look-then he realized what he was doing. Did it matter if it was Claudia? Not at all, was the correct answer. The sensible, sane answer.
He hadn't seen her, heard her voice, spoken her name for more than four weeks. And tonight he was out with another woman-Stella Diodorus, to be exact. Who was very attractive, very warm, very nice. If he played his cards right, he might even stand a chance of getting invited back for coffee after dinner, if he was reading the attraction in her brown eyes correctly.
If only he wanted to play his cards right. The truth was, he wasn't interested in any woman who wasn't Claudia. And, truly, that was the most unmanning aspect of being a forlorn, love-crossed idiot-he'd gone from having earth-shattering, bone-jarring, back-clawing sex with a women he adored to nothing. Zero. Zilch. And because he couldn't muster so much as half a hard-on for anyone else, he was pretty much stuck in limbo-land, never to be satisfied by the woman he wanted, not able to get off with anyone else because he just wasn't interested. Talk about a vicious circle.
Because he felt like such a grade-A turd to be thinking about Claudia while he was out with Stella, Leandro flashed his dinner companion a big smile and reapplied himself to their conversation with renewed zest.
"So now you're fully qualified, what next?" he asked, picking up on the comment Stella had made before the ghost of Claudia had cast its shadow over their meal. Well, his meal, anyway.
"I have to wait for my results first, but then I'll start looking for a teaching position. The school I did some of my training at said they were keen to have me back, but we'll see if they're prepared to put their money where their mouth is," Stella said, breaking a bread stick in two and nibbling on the end.
He forced himself to concentrate on how attractive she was-the smoothness of her skin, the fullness of her plump mouth, the gentle sparkle in her eyes. She'd turned heads when she returned from the powder room, and he knew there were plenty of guys sitting around him right now who wouldn't mind trading places with him.
"So you like teaching more than being a beautician?" he asked.
She screwed up her nose at him.
"Are you kidding? Why do you think I just slogged through six years of night school? If I never do another manicure in my life I will die a happy woman," Stella said expressively.
"You know, I've often thought that being a producer is a bit like being a teacher," Leandro said.
"Yeah, how?" Stella asked, her half-smile indicating she was prepared to be entertained.
"Well, basically the show is like a big classroom. You've got the actors-they're the popular kids. Then there's the geeks and jocks, otherwise known as the crew. And finally there's the sensitive outsiders, the writers. Sometimes they all get along really well, and other times it's anarchy and I have to hand out a few detentions," he said.
Stella laughed and ate some more bread stick.
"You know, I have no idea what a producer actually does. I mean, I know I live in L. A. and that's almost sacrilegious, but whenever you see the credits at the end of a show, there are about a million producers. They can't all run the show, right?"
Leandro spent the next ten minutes giving her breakdown on the different kinds of producers that were typically involved in a television production.
"...but, of course, I'm the only one who counts," he said as he finished his one-man tour of the industry.
Stella laughed.
"You've got a good sense of humor, Leandro," she said.
Why did his thoughts instantly divert to Claudia? Why did he suddenly remember how funny she was, how sassy and cheeky and daring?
If he thought he could get away with it, he'd give himself a slap on the side of the head. He wanted Claudia out of his mind, his memories, his heart. He wanted his libido back. He wanted to look forward instead of back.
"What did you want to order?" he said. "I was thinking of the lasagna."
"I love lasagna," Stella said. "Will you think I'm a terrible copycat if I have it, too?"
"I will, but I'll try to hide it," he said, tongue-in-cheek.
For a moment she stared at him, then she got it.
"See, you are so funny," she said, cracking up again.
She was a nice woman. If tonight went okay, he was going to ask her out again. He made the resolution on the spot. He might not be on fire for her the way he had been with Claudia, but he was still recovering from having his fingers spectacularly burned. Maybe fire wasn't all it was cracked up to be at the end of the day, anyway.