Даниэла Стил - All That Glitters

“He sounds like a real asshole,” Ian said sympathetically, “not a lovable one like me.” She laughed. She could easily imagine him being difficult, and even disappearing. His father murdering his mother had to have left him with some serious damage. He had put it to good use in his books, which were extremely violent, but sensitive too. He had an uncanny understanding of people, and clearly had his own demons. “I think we’ve gotten the introductions pretty well covered.” He smiled at her. “Would you like to have dinner with me? I’m not a vegetarian, or a vegan, and I like fast food, the greasier the better. I love cheeseburgers.”

“So do I.” She smiled at him. She was enjoying his company, and his frank, outrageous brand of honesty and revelation about himself. He was the modern day James Dean, angry, brooding, and even at forty-one, much more handsome.

“How old are you, by the way? Will I get arrested having dinner with you?” She looked very young to him.

“I’m twenty-four,” she said casually.

“That works. I’m only old enough to be your father, not your grandfather.” Nigel had been ten years older than she was. Older men didn’t scare her. In fact, she liked them, and sometimes thought she had more in common with them, except for Sam, who was her family and wise for his years, as she was. Even Ed had seemed immature to her at times, and irresponsible. “Where should we go to dinner? I know a hamburger joint nearby. The burgers are pretty good.”

It turned out to be an American style diner she’d never heard of, and the burgers were delicious. She had come in a cab, and they walked to the restaurant, with Bruce loping along beside Ian.

They had a great time talking over dinner, about Marrakesh and Tangiers, and some of his other travels. He had loved Turkey too. He admitted that it was hard to settle down in the States after that.

“I’m a nomad. But I have to say the tent you found for me is the nicest one I’ve ever had. The guy who lives there is great. It was fun looking him up in Rome and having dinner in his restaurant. He’s cool.” And so was Ian. Almost too cool. She thoroughly enjoyed her evening with him.

He sent her home in a cab, as she mulled over the evening, and called her two days later.

“Are you ready for another burger? They’ve been driving me crazy on the set, with a bunch of divas. I need to talk to a sane person. You’re the only one I know here.”

“I’m flattered. I’d love it.” They went to his house afterward, and it looked even better with some of his own things spread around here and there. Their age difference didn’t bother her, and he was fascinating to talk to. His mind raced at a million miles an hour, and she was breathless listening to him.

They started seeing each other two or three times a week after that, for coffee or a drink, or dinner. He cooked her a Moroccan meal at his house one night, and it was exquisite, lamb and couscous with delicate spices. She noticed that he drank very little, which surprised her. He went to the gym at five o’clock every morning, and was in remarkable shape.

The first time he kissed her in May, she was six months pregnant, and he didn’t seem to care. She was self-conscious about it, and he said he thought she was beautiful, and the baby didn’t bother him, as long as he didn’t have to bring it up or deal with it as a teenager, which made her laugh. Their lovemaking was as easy and natural as though they had always been together. She spent several nights with him, and then he came to her house, and was stunned by how huge it was.

“Was this place your husband’s idea?” he asked her and she nodded. “I thought so. It doesn’t look like you. This house is going to give you a lot of trouble,” he warned her. “It’s going to attract all the wrong guys like bees to honey. It screams money. You should tell them you’re housesitting. If they know it’s yours, you’re going to have every fortune hunter in London on your doorstep.”

“I know. I married one of them,” she said simply.

She didn’t have to worry about it with Ian. He was one of the most successful writers in the world. And she loved being with him. She kept reminding herself not to fall in love with him, or she’d get hurt. He didn’t promise her any kind of future or even suggest it. He lived in the moment, but he was so sexy and smart and easy to be with. She was falling in love with his mind, and he was happy with her.

In June, he warned her that he was going to start writing and he would disappear for a while. Things had calmed down on the movie set. He didn’t know when he’d surface again, and told her that sometimes it took months. He could never predict it. He was at the mercy of the book he was writing.

“At least I warn people now. I used to just disappear and surface six months later, and everyone was pissed.”

“I’ll miss you,” she said softly, and he wagged a finger at her.

“Don’t. I’ll miss you too, but that’s not what I’m about. I come and go, that’s who I am. Like birds, or the seasons, or a stray cat who shows up, hangs around for a while, and then disappears. I’ll probably miss you more than you miss me. I get addicted to people, and then I need to break the habit. And the writing always comes first with me. It has to, or I wouldn’t be good at it.”

She saw him one more time after that, and then he was gone. She’d had two wonderful months with him, and realized that it might be all she’d ever get. She might never hear from him again. But he had been one of those incredible comets flashing through the sky in a shower of stars. Just being with him was exciting.

She told Sam about him when she called him before his wedding.

“There you go again. Coco, please don’t get hooked on this guy. He told you he’s not reliable. Believe him. I love his books too, but he has to be a little whacko to write like that.”

“He’s not whacko. He’s brilliant,” she defended him.

“That’s the point. He’s the flash again. You have to give that up, and find a real one.”

“He’s about as real as it gets.”

“No, he’s not. That’s not real. It’s excitement again. Real is something very quiet that you can come home to at night, and know will still be there. Ian Kingston is never going to be there for you. He told you that in the beginning.”

“Yes, he did,” she admitted. “Is that what you have with Tamar?” Something quiet that would always be there. Maybe he was right.

“Yeah, I guess so. I know she’s always going to be there for me. I won’t have nights with her like you’ve had with Ian Kingston. But she won’t disappoint me either.”

“How can you be sure?”

“You never are in life. But with the wild ones, the flashy ones, you know they’re going to burn themselves out and disappear in the heavens somewhere. They can’t help it, and they burn you in the process. That’s who they are. I know how appealing they must be. But one day you reach for them, and your hands are empty. You need someone with you, Coco, especially now with the baby. But you’ve got me.” He was getting married in a week. And now he would belong to Tamar too. Coco wasn’t sure she liked that.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked him again.

“Yes. I’m okay about it now.”

“Is that enough? Okay?”

“It has to be. It’s where my life is.” Working in his father’s business, marrying a plain, reliable woman who was the kind of woman his parents wanted him to marry. Coco wanted more for him, but Sam didn’t. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe reaching for the flash of brilliance in the sky, she’d have glorious moments he would never know that brought her soul alive, but in the end she’d always come up empty-handed. And Ian was the flash, more than any man she’d ever known.