Danielle Steel - One Day at a Time

“I love you. I truly do,” she said sadly. “I love everything about you. You're the best, kindest man in the world. But I don't think I could live like that. I'd be terrified to go anywhere, and I'd be worried sick for our kids, and for you.”

“It was a hell of a way to start,” he admitted ruefully. If ever she had needed confirmation of her fears, she had gotten it the night before.

She burst into tears as he took her in his arms again. “I love you so much, but I'm so scared,” she sobbed in anguish. She kept remembering all those awful men out of control.

“I know, baby, I know,” he crooned as he held her. “I understand.” He didn't want to, but he did. And he wanted to convince her otherwise but felt it wouldn't be fair to her. She had been very brave. But it was a lot to ask of anyone. Dealing with the paparazzi, and surviving them, was part of his life, but it didn't have to be part of hers. She had a choice. He didn't. And he only prayed now that she would still choose a life with him, when she calmed down and recovered.

“Let's just get you safely on the plane to Paris now. We can talk about this again when I get home.” He didn't want her making any final decisions about him in the state she was in. He worried that the decision would be to end it with him. And she might get to that anyway.

He called the director and told him what had happened the night before, and asked him to shoot around him that morning. The director said how sorry he was and asked if there was anything he could do to help. Leslie asked him to send over one of the hairdressers with an assortment of wigs in anything but Coco's color. He called the manager of the hotel after that, and asked for several security guards to accompany her on the motoscafo, and a police guard if necessary. But the hotel manager thought they could handle it themselves.

Leslie got her into the shower. They had given her a cast that could get wet as long as she didn't soak it. He held her in his arms to make sure that she didn't stumble, slip, or faint. And then he helped her dress. He had already made a decision not to leave the hotel with her. He didn't want to do anything to draw attention to her. They would recognize Coco now, but most of all, they would be looking for him, or shots of them together. He didn't want to set her up for that, and was going to say goodbye to her at the hotel, and let her leave alone with the security guards from the Gritti. It was a sad end to their trip. And he couldn't help wondering if he'd ever see her again as he helped her dress. She had packed her bags the night before, so there was nothing for her to do except put on her jeans, a sweater, and her sheepskin coat.

The hairdresser from the set arrived as soon as Coco was dressed. Leslie sat her down at the dressing table and saw her eyes in the mirror. He could see that she was still in shock.

The hairdresser had brought several long blond wigs she had on hand, and a short black one. It was stylishly cut and full enough to cover all of Coco's long copper hair. She pinned it up for her, put a stocking cap on the way they did for films, and slipped the wig on her head. It was a shock seeing her with black hair, and in spite of himself Leslie smiled. She looked incredible, and it totally transformed her, which was what he wanted. She was unrecognizable in the black wig.

“You look like a very young Elizabeth Taylor.” Coco only nodded. She didn't care what she looked like. She was heartbroken to be leaving him, and she hated what she had learned about his life. They had survived the rumors in the fan magazine, and the bogus affair with his costar. But it was much harder to overlook the nightmare she had lived through with him the night before.

Leslie thanked the hairdresser and she left, and he stood looking at Coco. “What can I say to you? I love you, Coco. But I don't want to ruin your life. I know how much you hate all this.”

She smiled sadly at him. “One day at a time, I guess,” she said, feeding his own words back to him, and he smiled.

“I wish I could leave with you. Please don't run away from me now. We'll deal with this together.” He knew she had every reason to end it with him now, and he wouldn't blame her if she did. But he desperately hoped she wouldn't. He had changed her ticket home to first class as a gift from him. He wanted her to travel back in comfort, and had been startled that she had traveled coach on the way over. At least now she could sleep all the way home. He felt it was the least he could do for her.

“All I know is that I love you. I need to think about the rest,” Coco said sadly, and he nodded, knowing it was the best they could do for now. She still looked badly shaken, and he knew her arm must hurt. It had been a terrifying experience for both of them, especially for her. And she was the one who had gotten injured. The thought of it made him feel sick.

There was a knock at the door, and the security guards were outside, waiting for her. There were four big burly men, and a bellman to carry her bags. He took them downstairs to the motorboat waiting outside the service entrance. She was going out the back way, as they had done in Florence. Leslie had to do that often.

He took her in his arms then and held her there, and for a moment he said nothing. He just wanted to feel her warmth against his chest, and remember every minute detail of her face. “Just know that I love you, and I understand whatever happens.” He was afraid that it was over with her. It was written in her eyes as she looked back at him and nodded.

“I love you too.” And then she added awkwardly, “I'll never forget Venice… I know that sounds ridiculous after last night. But I've never been so happy in my life. It was perfect until last night.”

“Hang on to that,” he said, daring to be hopeful, in spite of his fears. “Take care of your wrist, and don't forget to have it looked at when you get home.” She nodded, and kissed him ever so gently on the lips.

“I love you,” she said one last time, and then walked out of his suite and closed the door behind her. Leslie felt as though someone had just ripped his heart out and broken it to bits.

Chapter 17

Coco felt numb and dazed all the way back to San Francisco. She thought of calling him from Paris between flights, but she knew he'd be on the set by then, and working, so she didn't. And the flight back to San Francisco seemed endless. Her wrist ached, and she had a headache from the night before. Her whole body felt as though it had been jolted badly. Her back was sensitive from the bruise. And all she wanted to do was sleep. She didn't want to think about anything or talk to anyone. And every time she fell asleep, she had nightmares. Not just about the paparazzi, but about Leslie. She knew she couldn't share his life with him. It was just too frightening and overwhelming. And twice when she woke up, she was in tears. She felt as though she had lost not only the man she loved, but her dreams. It was a terrible feeling.

With the time difference, it was two o'clock in the afternoon when she got to San Francisco. It was eleven o'clock at night in Venice by then, but her cell phone was dead and she didn't call him.

She got a porter to help her through customs and walked into the terminal almost blindly. She was going to take a cab back to Bolinas. She was too worn out to take a shuttle. And as she looked around on the sidewalk, she saw Liz hurrying toward her. Her flight had come in early and it never occurred to her that Liz was there for her. Coco was still too dazed to think.

“Hi. Are you going somewhere?” Coco looked at her blankly as Liz looked her over with worried eyes.

“Leslie called me. He told me what happened. I'm sorry Coco.”