Collin forces a smile. “Well, I hear it’s beautiful out there.”
“Who’d you say the flowers are for?” Dexter asks.
“Oh, I, well, Lenora,” he fumbles. “She’s ill.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dexter says. “Give her our best.”
Collin nods, and this time he looks directly at me. “Have a wonderful time in California.”
“We will,” Dexter says.
My legs feel leaden as we walk to the cab waiting on the street above. I can’t look back to the dock. I can’t bear to see Collin again for fear that my heart will break in two.
“Don’t you love it here?” Dex says, leaning back on the bed at the Chateau Marmont.
“It’s beautiful,” I reply, walking out to the balcony. He joins me a moment later. “You’re prettier than any movie star in Hollywood, you know?”
“Stop,” I say, as my lips form a reluctant smile. “You’re just saying that.”
He turns me around to face him. “It’s the truth.” He begins kissing my neck, but it doesn’t feel right. Not now. Not after last night. I’m relieved when I hear a knock at the door. Dexter opens it for a porter who holds a tray with a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and an envelope.
“Did you order room service?” I ask, walking toward him.
Dexter doesn’t reply. He tears open the envelope expectantly, like a little boy opening a present on Christmas morning. He pulls out a card, and I lean over his shoulder to read the flowery handwriting.
“To our monthlong artistic collaboration!—Lana”
I shake my head. “Who’s Lana?”
“I was going to tell you over dinner tonight,” he says. “I thought if I could get you out here, you’d see what an exciting opportunity this is for me.”
“Dex, what are you talking about?”
He sits down on the bed. “Listen, Penn, I don’t know how it happened, but Lana Turner saw some of my work at a gallery in Los Angeles, and her people contacted me. She wants me to work on a mural in her home.”
“In her home? Lana Turner? The Lana Turner?”
“Yes,” he says. “And she’s offered to let me be an artist in residence while I work on it.”
“An artist in residence?” I shake my head. I’ve seen her movies. I know how beautiful she is, and I’ve read the headlines about her many loves and divorces. “Doesn’t that seem a little tawdry, Dex?”
“Honey,” he says, “I know how it must seem. But I wanted you to come out with me so you could meet her, so you could feel comfortable with the arrangement.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m going to be here for at least a month.”
“Dex, really?” I should be relieved. I can fly home and spend all the time in the world with Collin. I should be happy. But instead I feel a clench in the pit of my stomach.
“I’ll work fast,” he says, kissing my wrist.
“I imagine she’s paying you a lot of money.”
He nods. “Yes. But Penn, it’s not about the money. I don’t know how to describe it, but since Lana reached out to me, well, it’s like someone lifted a dark veil that was covering my eyes. I feel happier; I feel like I can work again.”
“Good,” I say. “I want that for you.”
“It’ll mean more commissions,” he says. “Lana says that when I’m done with the mural, I’ll have all of Hollywood courting me. We could move out here, maybe. Get a little home in Beverly Hills. You’d like that now, wouldn’t you?”
I shake my head. “But I love our home. I love Seattle.”
“Then we’ll keep it. We’ll have two.”
“I don’t know, Dex.”
“Please, come with me. Meet Lana tonight. You’ll fall in love with her; I promise you will.” Somehow I sense that it’s Dex who’s already done just that.
The maître d’ pulls out my chair, sliding it in place as I take my seat. I look around the large dining room with its glitzy decor. An older man escorts a young blonde on his arm at least twenty years his junior. She wears a sparkly silver dress that’s cut low on her chest. Her champagne blond hair is pulled back and piled high on her head. I feel plain and unglamorous in comparison and tug at my emerald green dress. It never fails to wow in Seattle, but somehow it feels frumpy and schoolmarmish now.
“Do you know who that was?” Dexter whispers to me.
I shake my head.
“Alfred Hitchcock,” he says. Dex is clearly taken with California, but I don’t share his fascination. Instead, I think of home on Lake union . I wonder what Collin’s doing right now. I wonder if he’s thinking of me.