by
Aimee
(aimeed@earthlink.net)
Hazy early-morning light had barely begun to filter into her bedroom when CC found herself driven from bed, unable to sleep anymore. Well, that was all right. There was something she needed to do anyhow. Then maybe she could return to her bed in peace for a little longer.
CC threw a matching robe over her pale peach-colored satin nightgown and went to her study. She sat down at her desk, tucked her hair behind her ear, flipped open her laptop, and pulled up a word processor file, "CCJournal.wps." Her fingers hesitated briefly before she started to type, writing as though it was a story in the third person. She found it more difficult than she'd expected to write about this. Nevertheless, it was something she had to do.
Maxwell Sheffield ran his hands through his hair irritably. "Very well, CC, I'll give him fourteen inch letters on the marquis above the title of the play. But I'm only giving in for old time's sake."
CC grinned at him. "Oh, you always let me have my own way back then, too. By the way, Max, how are the wife and kids?"
"Fantastic. Fran and I are still as happy as newlyweds even though she still gets mad at me and goes home to her mother once a week, and the twins are a year old and already toddling about the house breaking things. Fran often tells me that having kids is the surest way to ruin your tchochkes."
CC laughed.
"And how are you? Seeing anyone?"
"Why is that the first question anyone asks?" she demanded, aggrieved. "I'm getting too old for all that romantic bull anyway. After all, I am almost thirty."
Max chuckled. "So's Fran. Well, I'm glad to see your new career as an agent is working out. Word is, half the actors in New York are beating on your door."
"That's because I'm beating on the producers they want to work for," she replied with a grin. "By the way, I wanted to ask -- well, never mind. It isn't important."
"He's fine, still living in New York. He's got a job as the manager of a domestic help agency." Maxwell tried to smile, but found the effort too much.
"Good for him. Now Rubbermaid the Soap Scum Warrior can come to the rescue of the entire city." CC tried to keep her voice as light as possible.
"There is one more thing you should know. He'll be at the Broadway Guild Awards Saturday night."
CC raised her eyebrows. "Niles? Why?"
Max hesitated. "He's escorting his wife."
The news hit CC like a fist in the face. She gripped a chair for support. "Who?"
Max touched her arm and they turned to the stage, where an actor and actress were rehearsing. "You see that woman?"
"That's Alanna Hastings. We've worked with her before. Never a great name, but a great character actress, sort of an unknown staple in the New York theater." As it dawned on CC what Max was about to say, she added, "Not aging well, of course. I'd say she's got another two or three years in her and she's history." Or will be when I get through destroying her.
"Alanna is forty-three and still a very handsome woman," Max disagreed. "And as you've probably already guessed, her name is Alanna Niles now."
"I never even knew that was his last name," she said distantly. "I guess I never had the right to ask." CC Niles, she thought to herself. No, I'd have kept my own name.
Max put a hand on her arm. The last year since she and Niles had both resigned had aged her. Not physically; no, CC Babcock was as beautiful as ever if you didn't count the hardening of the expression around her eyes or the slight dimming of her thousand-watt smile. But emotionally she was calmer, tougher, even less vulnerable than before. And she certainly gave off the aura of a woman to whom romance was long in the past, nor did she seem to mourn its demise.
After a few minutes of chatting, CC and Max shook hands and she strode quickly up the aisle. Her oversized blazer and slim pants, he noticed, were very similar to the outfit she'd been wearing over a year ago the day she turned down Niles' final proposal and they both resigned, walking out of Maxwell's family forever.
CC surveyed herself in the mirror with a harsh and critical eye, but even she could find few faults in herself the night of the Broadway Guild Awards. Her thick golden hair was piled on her head, one curling tendril dangling by her left temple. Her body, still slender due to the grueling daily workouts she put it through, showed off to lush advantage in the body-skimming white satin gown with straps that hooked behind her neck and a long slit up to the middle of her thigh.
Her limo was waiting downstairs. Nervous but refusing to admit why, CC took up her flat white satin bag and left her apartment.
"Niles! Old man, how are you?" Max shook hands with his old friend. "You look well. Still in great shape. The new job working out?"
Niles grinned. "I'm still an underpaid slave, but at least I'm not scrubbing any toilets, just harassing the poor sods who do."
Fran, just back from the ladies' room, flung herself into his arms. "Niles! Oh, Niles, Niles, I've missed you so! Why don't you ever stop by?"
Niles shrugged. "Never got invited!"
"You don't need an invitation, old man. Feel free to bring Alanna or just drop by yourself anytime." Maxwell struggled not to let his voice get thick with emotion.
Niles pretended to hesitate. "To tell you the truth, I'd feel a little awkward. I'd hate to run into Miss Babcock. It'll be strange enough seeing her tonight."
Max looked surprised, and Fran asked, "You didn't know?"
"Know what?"
"She quit right after you did," Fran explained. "She said you were right about it being time to move on with her life. She's now the most feared theatrical agent in the city."
"Oh, that's right," he said distantly. "I'd heard something of the sort." He'd actually known every detail but was hoping to hear news of her without having to ask.
A statuesque redhead came up and took his arm. "Hello, Max, Fran," Alanna Niles said cheerfully. "Sorry we can't stay and talk, but my hubby promised me a before-dinner dance."
Alanna was attractive in an older-woman kind of way, friendly, talented, and totally likeable. Still, Fran felt the almost uncontrollable urge to rub it in her face that the last time Niles had been to the Broadway Guild Awards he'd been escorting CC Babcock, one of the richest, loveliest, most powerful women in the New York Theater, not some two-bit character actress. "I hate her," she said angrily as Niles followed his wife to the dance floor.
"Yeah, well, join the club," remarked a familiar voice behind them.
"CC!" Max exclaimed, embracing her. "You look lovely."
"Much prettier than Niles' wife," added a jealous Fran. She'd always hoped Niles would come back, but when he married, all Fran's resentment of CC for driving him away had been transferred to Alanna, the woman who kept him away. But she got a savage satisfaction out of the stricken look on CC's face at being reminded that the man who'd once begged for her hand had wasted no time in replacing her. Niles was her best friend, and even the normally sweet-natured Fran couldn't bring herself to side with anyone responsible for the breakup of their happy life. If only CC hadn't been so damn stuck on herself that she refused to admit her feelings for a servant.
Had CC known what Fran was thinking, she'd have agreed.
Over Alanna's head, Niles could see when the Witch of Endor joined his old friends for a few moments, then moved off alone and apparently unescorted.
"What's the matter, darling?" Alanna asked. "You're trembling and your palms have gone all sweaty."
"I'm sorry. Seeing the Sheffields again just brought back a lot of memories."
"Good ones I hope," Alanna said, smiling up at him.
Niles merely nodded. His wife knew nothing of CC Babcock except that he had known and disliked her. At one point, surely one of the most terrifying moments of his life, Alanna had mentioned possibly switching agents if CC would accept her as a client. Niles had discouraged it, claiming that the two women would never get along. "She'd never spoil you like your current agent does," he'd added mischievously. "No more of my chocolate devil dogs, and no skipping workouts even on your birthday, or Babcock'd kick your ass."
Alanna was shocked. His description of Miss Babcock sounded both familiar and rude, not qualities she associated with her mild-mannered husband. Why, he'd never said an impolite word to her in his life, not even in jest! Much as she adored him, occasionally he seemed almost . . . spiritless.
Niles had been very quiet during dinner, until he looked up at her fondly. "I think they're about to clear the buffet. Would you like me to get you more shrimp salad before they close it down?"
"Thank you, darling, yes." Alanna smiled at him and continued her conversation with her agent.
Niles approached the buffet. Suddenly he saw her coming in the same direction, but it was too late to back away without making a scene.
"Hello Niles," she said coolly, not meeting his eyes. They both reached for a plate at the same time, their fingers brushing. CC jerked back like she'd been burned.
Niles handed her a plate. "Miss Babcock. Are you just here socially, or in your capacity as the Curse of Broadway?"
CC laughed. "Then I take it you heard about my new career. Congratulations on yours, by the way, and on your wedding. How long have you been married?"
"About six months."
"And are there any little surprises on the way?"
"No, I stayed away from the beans tonight. I didn't want to embarrass Alanna or get kicked out of bed tonight."
CC threw back her head and laughed uproariously. Niles couldn't help but smile in response.
"Actually," he said, "we're not planning on having a family." He didn't know why he let that tidbit slip.
"Ah," CC said in smug satisfaction as she saw the look of regret flicker across his face. Alanna was probably too old already. I'd already be having mood swings and food cravings, she thought smugly, even though she knew it was a petty thought. The Babcock women are always quite fertile. And I'm younger than she is.
"Are you unescorted?" he asked, a sadistic little smile playing around the corners of his lips.
CC lifted her head proudly. "I came alone," she replied without a touch of the defensiveness she felt inside. She was done apologizing for her single status. After all, as Dr. Bort had pointed out, she'd refused many more marriage proposals than his in her lifetime and either dumped or sabotaged many relationships besides that. CC finally acknowledged that whether consciously or not, she had chosen never to marry.
"Go ahead, Dustbuster," she challenged him. "You know you want to."
He shrugged. "You've heard 'em all before. Even Chester won't sleep in the same bed with you."
"He does too!" CC objected. "Oh, damn, I just set you up big time."
Niles chuckled. "Look, Miss Babcock, we're probably going to see each other occasionally at these sorts of affairs. Peace?"
"Peace," she agreed. "How about having mercy on an aging spinster and taking me for a turn around the floor?"
"Let me just give this to Alanna and I'll be back."
Alanna was waiting impatiently. "Where were you?"
"Chatting. Listen, I'll be back in a few. Got to do a duty dance with an old friend."
"CC Babcock?" she inquired, a little acidly. "I thought you hated her."
"She's a lonely woman. She came alone. Hey -- " Niles shrugged with a fiendish grin she'd never seen on his face before. "It's like the platonic version of a mercy hump. You know, those bones you throw me every once in a while?"
Instead of the laughter he'd anticipated, Alanna gasped and colored up. "Niles! What's gotten into you? Have you been drinking?"
Niles straightened up and wiped the grin off his face. "I apologize, dearest. The party mood got to me. I shouldn't have been teasing." Old dog, new tricks, he thought wryly as he kissed his wife's cheek and hurried to where CC awaited him on the edge of the floor.
As soon as he swept her into his arms he knew it was a mistake. His arm fit so comfortably around her narrow waist, her hand rested so gracefully in his, and they moved together in a practiced rhythm born of the many, many times they'd danced together in the past.
"Trouble in paradise? Your other half looked a bit displeased," CC said. "I do hope I haven't caused a problem." Insincerity dripped from her lips.
"Nah, she only gets jealous when I dance with women. She just doesn't -- " Niles was about to say that she didn't understand his sense of humor, but he realized it would be highly inappropriate to make that criticism, especially in front of CC. "She wanted the Waldorf salad, not the shrimp salad."
CC bit back a remark about Niles being whipped. After a year of longing to be held by him, she wasn't going to risk him leaving her in the middle of the dance floor. She knew she'd thrown his love away carelessly, cruelly, because of her own insecurity, but now she had a chance to pretend just for a few moments that she hadn't.
As the dance ended, CC excused herself. "I'm just going to go out on the terrace. I'm a little warm."
"Hot flash?" he inquired, following her.
"Something like that," she said, wondering why he was pursuing her.
He just wanted to play the old game. "Hey," he protested. "I just insulted you. Now you're supposed to insult me. There's a rhythm to these things, woman!"
As they broke out into the fresh air of the terrace together, CC recognized the words she'd once used on him. She giggled. "You sure know how to beg, don't you? Alanna giving you a lot of practice?"
"Not at begging," he deadpanned. "I'm getting more in one week than I used to get in a year. And you?"
Max and Fran had been dancing together and had seen the two old enemies leave. Smelling trouble, they'd followed. They now hid themselves in the shadows as a smiling CC and a grinning Niles came face to face.
"So what's that, once a week as newlyweds?" she taunted. "Ha! When I get the chance, I'm good for two or three times a day."
"When you get the chance, which amounts to two or three times a decade!" he retorted. "Of course, that's because nobody wants to do you."
"Except you!" she shot back.
"Your brittle old bones would break under the effort."
CC sputtered in rage, and a huge smile broke over his face. Another round for the butler.
Then she spat, "As much as you weigh, I believe it! Servant!"
"Trollop!" It came out automatically before he realized where he was headed.
"Bellboy," she hissed.
"Brunette!"
A fierce, wild kind of joy overcame them and they were in each other's arms. Niles dug his fingers into her hair, holding her head while he plundered her mouth with his. CC cupped his face in her hands and started a duel of lips and tongues that drove him wild, had him shoving her back against the low wall that protected them from a thirty-story fall.
Suddenly she began to struggle. "No . . . no! Niles, we can't! Alanna!"
Niles drew back, his whole body rigid with tension. Deep shame and misery welled up in him, and he knew that if she hadn't stopped him, he'd have taken her right there. "I'm sorry," he growled, turning to go. His shoulders drooped in defeat.
"I'm not," she said behind him. He turned back to her in shock.
She shrugged, gathering the shreds of her dignity around her like a torn cloak. "Something to remember you by," she said lightly.
He couldn't help but laugh.
"Go, quickly!" she urged him.
Niles obeyed her, returning indoors to his wife. Her words had made it a little easier, but not much.
CC whirled around and gripped the railing, bending over it to look down at the street far below. For one wild, pain-racked moment she realized that if she plunged over the railing now, she'd be so obliterated that they wouldn't even be able to recognize her. Then she drew a deep breath and turned resolutely away.
To look right into the sad, sympathetic eyes of Maxwell and Fran Sheffield.
Fran embraced her gently. CC felt tears stinging at the back of her eyes and wanted desperately to cry, but years of fighting back her tears had rendered her incapable of giving into them now. "I love him so much!" she whispered brokenly. "And I could have been with him. This is all my fault."
"I know, sweetie," Fran said so gently that CC never noticed the dig. "I know."
CC left them soon after and went back home to her apartment a few minutes later. Chester was waiting there, and she picked him up and rubbed his tummy absently. Moving like a robot, she put on a nightgown, brushed her teeth, cleaned her face, and went to bed alone.
For the rest of her life only the occasional brief affair or one-night stand broke her solitude. She died alone many years later a Broadway legend, and at her massive, ornate funeral Maxwell Sheffield delivered her eulogy. Throngs of curious strangers surged past her coffin as she lay in state in a magnificent cathedral.
One of them was Niles. He looked upon her still, unmoving face for the first time since he'd kissed her at the Broadway Guild Awards. He found himself glad her tortured soul had finally found rest. "So Satan's sister has returned home at last," he murmured, touching her waxen hand.
Niles never again betrayed his wife by look or deed. They lived contentedly together for many years, more as comfortable friends than lovers, and Alanna never knew about his momentary indiscretion or the woman who caused it. He died some years after CC, and his wife and friends mourned him deeply. Fran Sheffield delivered his eulogy.
His last thought before dying was, "If I go to heaven, I'll know eternal peace. If I go to hell, I'll be with CC. This elevator's going down." He died with a look of fiendish glee on his face.
Fran and Max were there with Alanna. "Where do you think he is now?" Fran asked softly, through her quiet tears.
Max smiled. "Listening at keyholes and torturing Miss Babcock," he replied confidently.
CC Babcock Niles had just entered the last paragraph and breathed a sigh of relief when her husband came up behind her and began to massage her shoulders with his warm, big hands. "You're tense. What are you working on?" Niles asked, pulling her robe aside and pressing warm lips to her bare shoulder.
"Something for therapy. Did I tell you today's my last session?" CC asked.
"Congratulations. How about we go out to dinner and celebrate?"
CC turned to him, wrapping her arms around him and tilting her face up for a kiss. "How about we celebrate right now?"
Niles grinned. "Do you ever get enough?"
"Nope."
"Good, because neither do I."
As they walked back to the bedroom from her study hand in hand, he asked her, "So what were you doing?"
"We've been talking a lot in therapy about how narrowly you and I missed losing each other because of my selfishness. She asked me to write about what I think my life would be like if I'd never gone after you and persuaded you to stay."
"May I read it?"
"Sure, why not? You'll just read it behind my back if I don't let you." CC sat down on the bed and he sat next to her. "It's supposed to help me release my guilt or something like that."
Niles lay down and drew her down next to him. "Baby, if you hadn't come to my room that night to stop me from leaving, we'd both be miserable right now. Okay, so you made a few mistakes, but you've more than made up for them since then."
"I don't know," she said mischievously. "I think I have more making up to do."
Niles tugged on the sash to loosen her robe and slipped his hand inside, drawing her nightgown up around her hips. She unbuttoned his pajamas and began to kiss his chest while she pulled his clothing off. Still partially in the grim fantasy world she'd created for her therapy project, CC felt almost guilty, as though she really were with another woman's husband. Then, when she felt the familiar, delicious desire he always brought out in her, she was swept away, secure in the knowledge that he was hers, and always would be.
The End
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