Apparently, the Cozy Corner hadn’t heard of providing a smoke-free environment and wasn’t too concerned about underage smoking. But at least the girls didn’t have pink hair and safety pins in their faces.
Hope took a booth near the back and ordered a cheeseburger, no onions and extra mayo on the side, a large order of fries, no salt, and a chocolate shake. Maybe she could find comfort in comfort food.
Work had been out of the question, and she’d spent most of the day trying not to cry and wondering if it was really over between her and Dylan, wondering if she should call him and waiting for him to call her. She’d spent the day reliving all the time they’d spent together, especially the closeness of the night before. He cared about her; she’d heard it in his voice and felt it in the way he’d touched her.
She’d spent hours thinking she should go back to his house and make him listen to her, make him believe that she would never betray him. He had to believe her, but she supposed the only way he would know for certain was when no stories appeared about him or Adam or Julie.
She’d mopped her floors, done her laundry, and scrubbed the bathrooms. She’d taken a long bath, given herself a facial and a manicure, all in an effort to take her mind off Dylan. To take her mind off the cold, closed-up expression on his face as he’d told her he didn’t think he even knew her. Nothing had worked.
Paris Fernwood set Hope’s milkshake in front of her. As the waitress placed a long spoon and a straw on a napkin, Hope remembered her first day in town and her second encounter with Paris. She remembered the way Paris had looked at Dylan, her brown eyes melting and her harsh features softening. He’d lit her up from the inside out, and Hope wondered if
“Thank you,” Hope said, sliding the straw from its wrapper.
Without looking up, Paris muttered, “You’re welcome,” and walked away.
Pathetic, Hope thought as she watched the waitress move behind the counter and empty ashtrays. That was how she’d thought of Paris that first day. Now she understood a little bit better. Loving Dylan Taber wasn’t an easy thing to get over. Especially when she didn’t know if it was really over. She was in limbo, her heart not quite broken. Not yet. She felt as if she were teetering on the edge of a cliff and Dylan was the only one who could pull her back.
She stuck her straw into the shake and sucked up a big dose of chocolate ice cream. She’d placed her heart in his hands, and it was up to him to decide what he would do with it now.
Paris returned with Hope’s meal and tore the ticket from the little green book she kept in her apron pocket.
“Is there anything else you’re needin‘?” she asked as she plunked the ticket on the table.
“I don’t think so.” Everything appeared just as she’d ordered it. “Thanks.”
“Uh-huh.” Again Paris didn’t even look at Hope before she walked away.
Hope didn’t know what she’d ever done to the waitress, but it must have been a major offense. She poured ketchup onto her plate and dipped a few fries. They were hot and greasy and not quite as wonderful as she’d expected. She smeared extra mayonnaise on her cheeseburger. It wasn’t as wonderful, either, but she suspected it wasn’t the fault of the food. It was her mood. She wanted comfort, but food wasn’t going to be the answer.
Out of the corner of her eye a glimpse of red caught her attention and she glanced up at the woman standing by her table. She lifted her gaze up Ralph Lauren jeans and a red silk tank, but even with the brown chin-length wig and dark sunglasses, Hope immediately recognized Juliette Bancroft.
“If you don’t want to draw attention,” Hope said, “lose the sunglasses.”
Without asking if she wanted company, Juliette slid into the seat across from Hope. “Have you called Mike Walker?” she asked, referring to
“I told you, I don’t work for
“I know. You work for
“True.” Hope paused and ate a few more fries. “But we don’t pay reporters to look through your trash. Everything you read in our Hollywood gossip section is pretty much old news.”
Juliette grabbed a menu. “I’ve already talked to my agent,” she said as she looked it over. “He’s spoken with my publicist, who will issue a standard ‘No comment’ to the press until we feel the time is right for a statement.” She flipped the menu to the back.
“No one will hear a word from me.”
Juliette glanced up. “Because of Dylan?”
“Of course,” she answered without hesitation. “But even if I felt nothing for Dylan, I would never hurt Adam.”
“Dylan and I have talked to Adam, and I think he’ll be okay. I’m the one who will be hurt the most if the story gets out,” Juliette said.
“And me,” Hope added. “Dylan would never forgive me if he read the story in a tabloid.”
Paris set a glass of water on the table. “What can I get for you?” she asked.
“Is this bottled water?” Juliette wanted to know.
“Straight from the tap.”
Juliette pushed it aside. “Do you have anything low-cal?”
“Salad,” Paris answered.
“Fine. I’ll have a chicken salad with vinaigrette dressing.”
“Don’t have vinaigrette.”
“Then give me Thousand Island, but put it on the side. And I’ll have a Diet Coke, lots of ice.”
“Do you want that ice on the side?”
Surprised that Paris might actually be making a joke, Hope looked up at her, but by the extremely irritated expression on her face, it was very clear she wasn’t kidding.
“In the glass will be fine.” Juliette shook her head as Paris walked away. “I don’t know how anyone can stand to live here.”
“Actually, it grows on you,” Hope said and was surprised as much as Juliette by her statement.
“How long have you known Dylan?”
“Long enough.”
“It was a real shock to walk into his house today and find you in his bed.”
“It was a shock to wake up and find you in his house.”
A reluctant smile tilted the corners of Juliette’s red lips. “He must care about you.”
Hope took a drink of her milkshake. She didn’t know for certain how Dylan felt about her. Beyond telling her she was important to him, he’d never actually said. Now she might never know.
A local couple sat down in the booth behind Juliette and wanted a booster seat for their toddler. Paris brought it, and Hope was struck by how nice and chatty she was to them.
“You don’t look like the sort of woman I always pictured with Dylan,” Juliette said, drawing Hope’s attention away from the change in Paris.
“Why’s that?”
“I always knew he’d end up with a pretty woman, but I figured he’d want someone more… homespun, I guess.” Juliette tucked the brown wig hairs behind her ears, then laid her hands on the table. For the first time, Hope noticed the impressive diamond on her finger. “How much has Dylan told you about me?” she wanted to know.
“Not a lot. Just that you and he were never married and when he left, he took Adam with him,” Hope answered and figured she didn’t owe Juliette anything more.
“When Dylan left L.A., he took Adam because he is a wonderful father.” Juliette lowered her gaze to her hands. “People look at a woman differently if she gives up custody of her child, even if it is best for the child, like there is something wrong with her, like she has no heart. That’s just not true. I love my son, and I never meant to keep him a secret.”
Hope didn’t know what to say about that. She didn’t have children, would never have children, but she didn’t think she could give up custody no matter how wonderful the father.
“I’m only telling you this in case you go ahead with a story. I’m telling you so you know my side. I gave Dylan custody of Adam because Dylan is a good father and a good man. I gave him custody because I love them both.”
As Hope looked into the heavenly blue eyes of America’s favorite angel, she believed her. It didn’t matter if she
