Previously…

Nathan returned to Los Angeles and was immediately taken into police custody. Jordan began to doubt Renee’s story about Sierra’s adoption, and after confronting her about it, she admitted that she was Sierra’s birth mother.  James blasted Brooke for inadvertently telling Ethan that Will was his father.  Miranda kicked Brett out, then boarded a plane to Mexico to get a quickie divorce.

---

Leilani opened the door at the Blackthorne mansion and greeted James and Nathan with an enthusiastic welcome.  They entered the foyer, followed by the limousine drivers who wheeled in several large designer trunks and suitcases.

“James, I don’t know how to thank you,” Nathan said.  “Your attorneys did a remarkable job of getting me released so quickly.  Eighteen hours in that cell was long enough.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” James cautioned his uncle.  “The D.A. hasn’t dropped the charges, despite all Jordan and I have done to try to convince him otherwise.”

“That’s painfully clear,” Nathan said and motioned to the sensor locked around his ankle.  “House arrest is better than jail, I suppose.  At least until they decide if a re-trial is in order.  And for the sake of our family, I hope it isn’t.  Don’t they get it that I’m innocent?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple when it comes to the law,” James noted. He knew that Nathan’s attraction to young girls was troublesome, and he wished it wasn’t the case, but he didn’t believe he was a bad man. He was a man whom he looked up to since he was just a boy.   A man who he had wronged and had never had the opportunity to make it up to him.  This time he would.

Brooke and Stormy walked out from the parlor room and approached them eagerly. “James, how did everything go at the courthouse?” Brooke asked.  “What did the D.A. say?”

“I’ll fill you in later.”  His reply was short and bittersweet.  “I’d like you both to meet Nathan Blackthorne, the greatest actor and director this town has ever seen.”

“Welcome home, Nathan,” Stormy said and firmly shook his hand.  “I can’t tell you what an honor it is to finally meet you.  I’ve seen every one of your movies.  Dad has them all down in a refrigerated vault in the screening room.”

“Ryan, we have met before,” Nathan replied.  He’d left Hollywood before Stormy’s nickname took.  “You were only about so high, but I remember you well enough.  You were a ladies’ man back then, and from the sounds of it you still are.”

Stormy flushed and dug his hands into his pockets.  “I take after my old man,” he said jokingly.

James and Nathan laughed in unison, then Nathan turned his sights on Brooke, and he stepped toward her, his watery eyes twinkling.

“And Brooke, you are every bit as lovely as James said you were,” he said and took her hand in his.  “The pictures in those horrible European rags don’t do you justice.”

Brooke shrugged modesty.  “That’s very kind of you,” she said.  She couldn’t help but feel like an outsider.  James still wasn’t talking to her—angry over her betrayal of his secret about Ethan.  She decided to suck it up and fight for their marriage even if James was prepared to continue with his silent treatment.  “James has told me a lot about you.  I hope you’ll make yourself at home.”

Nathan didn’t take his eyes from hers for several awkward moments.  He licked his lips and turned to James with a look of uncertainty.  “Well, I don’t know that I’ll be staying at the house,” he said politely.  “I certainly don’t want to impose.  I can just as easily take a suite at that hotel of yours, James.  I understand Miranda is running the place now?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” James insisted.  “We want you to stay here.  Besides, it’s part of the conditions of your house arrest.”  He looked around the entryway and realized someone was missing.  “Where is Miranda, anyway?” he asked.  “I thought she’d want to be here to meet Nathan.”

Brooke eyed Stormy and then put a hand on James’s shoulder.  “She had to leave town for a few days on business,” she replied and changed the subject from Miranda’s impromptu trip to get a divorce from Brett.  “I think Nathan’s room is ready.  Leilani made up the suite at the west end of the hall.”

“If you’re sure I’m not in the way,” Nathan said.

“Would you stop?” James said and directed the chauffer to the staircase.  “Maybe you’d like to take a nap before the party tonight.  You’ve had a long night.”

Nathan followed him up the stairs and shook his head with irritation.  “You seem to forget, James, I was the entertainer back in my day.  There would be parties at my bungalow on Alvarado Court every night.  I never took naps then and I don’t need to now.”

Stormy smiled and put an arm around Brooke as they watched the two men make their way upstairs.  Brooke couldn’t help but wonder how Nathan’s return would affect her marriage to James.  Would she fail to be as important to him now?  The not knowing if they were going to be all right was killing her.

---

After Nathan got settled, he took a walk through the house.  He explored the halls and various rooms where he’d once roamed, long before James had bought the house.  He pushed open the door in the family room to the hidden tunnels.  They were darker now, unlit and dusty, cracked paint and chipped brick crumbling to the floor.  A far cry from their origins.

 . . . . . . . . May, 1965 . . . . . . . .

He walked down the long corridor from the main house.  A tunnel of some kind with elegant sconces lining the walls.  Probably a servant’s passage, he decided.  All the big Hollywood moguls had them in their fancy mansions in the hills.  Through the thin walls he could hear the music and voices from Jonas Lamont’s cocktail party.  How he even got invited to his daughter’s birthday party he wasn’t quite sure.  After bit parts in three poorly received films, he wasn’t exactly a star.  But his agent told him that Jonas Lamont had seen his work in Hathaway House and took an immediate interest.  So, after buying a suit he couldn’t afford and driving his beat-up Volkswagen to the mansion, he spent half an hour waiting for Lamont to approach him, but as of yet it hadn’t happened.  So, he decided to go on a sightseeing tour of the enormous mansion.  That led him through a secret passage from the family room.  As he made his way down the hall, the sounds of the party grew faint.  Now all he could hear was the silent crying of a woman.

Slowly, he pushed the door open when the passageway ended and emptied out into the pool house across the north lawn.  There, weeping on the side of a bed, was a young woman more beautiful than any he’d ever seen.

“I’m sorry, I must have taken a wrong turn—” Nathan began, drawn to the young woman’s sad eyes.   “I’ll leave you alone.”

“Typical,” she said, suddenly feisty and devoid of the emotional mess he’d walked in on.

“I beg your pardon?” Nathan asked with a frown.  He was a dapper nineteen-year-old with black hair that was slicked neatly to the side.

“Why is it that men turn and run the other way anytime they see a woman crying?” she asked, dried her eyes with a handkerchief and stood up with a flourish.  She was a raving beauty with red hair and deep green eyes.  Quite spectacular, Nathan decided.

He was dumbfounded.  “I’m sorry, I…” he stammered.  “I just didn’t want to disturb you.  And not all men are the same, by the way.”

“Tell that to Royce Jennings,” she sighed angrily.  “He shows up late to my own birthday party, smelling like another woman, and then leaves before the cake is even cut.”

Now Nathan understood.  “You’re Jonas Lamont’s daughter?”

She nodded and extended her hand.  “Jacqueline Lamont,” she said.  “Who the hell are you?”

“Uh, Nathan Blackthorne,” he replied awkwardly.  “Your father invited me.  I’m not quite sure why, but—”

“He wants you to star in his next movie,” Jacqueline cut him off.   “I heard him talking about it.”

The news sent butterflies through Nathan’s stomach.  “Oh, well, I…I….”

Jacqueline smiled and regarded him carefully.  “Do you want to swim?”  Before he could answer she walked outside to the pool and stripped off her wrap dress, revealing a turquoise one-piece bathing suit underneath.

“I ah…I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

Jacqueline dove in, swam the length of the pool, and then bobbed to the surface with a smile.    “You don’t need one,” she said with a wink.

 . . . . . . . . Present Day . . . . . . . .

Nathan made his way to the library and inspected the dusty volumes of books that lined the walls.  He ran his hand along the shelf, impressed by how well the mansion had held up over the years.  He gazed up at a wall full of pictures hanging in concentric arrangements.  Some were of family, some were of old friends, some actors and actresses, and some friends long gone since the golden days.

 . . . . . . . . April, 1966 . . . . . . . .

Jonas Lamont was sixty-six years old and the most famous producer Hollywood had ever seen. His late wife, Midge, bore him a daughter, Jacqueline, and then passed away in ’64.  His single status now afforded him the luxury of having many tantalizing women at his beckon call.

Seated beneath the umbrella at a patio table by his pool, several young beauties tended to him dutifully while he sipped a long island iced tea.  He looked across the table at his newest protégé and slid a script across to him.

“The Benefactor?” Nathan asked as he read the title page.  “This is that script you’ve been talking about for a year, isn’t it?”

“A wealthy eccentric funds a space exploration team that goes horribly wrong,” Jonas explained. “It’s part science fiction and part disaster film. The lead is yours if you want it.”

Nathan was blown away.  He’d already starred in two of Jonas’s films, both catapulting him to fame in a matter of a year.  The Benefactor was the film that Hollywood had been buzzing about for as long as he could remember.  He couldn’t believe Jonas was offering it to him.

“You want me as the lead?” he asked.  “Are you sure that I’m right for it?”

“Of course,” Jonas replied as one of his doting lovelies massaged his shoulders.  “This is a part tailor made for you, Nathan, my boy.  I guarantee it will seal your destiny as Hollywood royalty, right alongside me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Nathan gushed with gratitude.

“No thanks required.” Jonas smiled.  “Just a favor that I ask in return.”

“Anything.”

“Marry my daughter.”

Nathan wasn’t sure if he heard him right.  “You want me to marry Jackie?” he asked.  “But she’s with Royce Jennings.  She’s crazy about him.”

“He’s bad for her,” Jonas insisted.  “Makes her miserable, creates a bad name for himself as a playboy running amuck with a new woman every night.  And for some reason Jacqueline takes it from him.  You’re much more suited for her, I think.”

Dumbfounded, Nathan struggled for words.  “Jonas, I—”

“I know you love her,” he interrupted.  “You have for the past year.  I can see it every time you look at her.  And I see the way she looks at you.  Why not make it official and take her away from the heartache that is Royce Jennings?”

“What makes you think she’d marry me?”

“Royce will never ask her,” Jonas reasoned.

Nathan hated the idea of Jackie’s father manipulating her life like that.  If she wanted Royce Jennings, then who was he to tell her it was wrong? 

 . . . . . . . . Present Day . . . . . . . .

Nathan flipped through a dusty old photo album, one of the relics left behind from when Jonas owned the house.  He swirled a brandy around in a sifter and turned the pages with tan, overly manicured hands.  He stopped, a pang of emotion that he hadn’t felt in almost thirty years as he looked at the photo of Jackie, himself, and Jonas posing out on the back lawn….

 . . . . . . . . November, 1969 . . . . . . . .

The Benefactor was a huge success.  Nathan became a household name in a matter of weeks after its release.  The joy over his newfound fame was clouded, however, in Jacqueline’s insistence to have a child.  Despite her urging, he resisted, claiming that having a baby now would only distract him from his budding career.  Jacqueline somberly said she understood.  

The weeks of location shooting on his next film, Stockholm Syndrome, left their marriage strained.  He returned home early from shooting in the Swiss Alps just before Thanksgiving, stopped at a flower stand by the road and picked up a dozen red roses.  He entered the house, shook off his trench coat, and glanced around the dark entryway.  It was late, but Jackie was a night owl, so he was sure she was still up.  He went upstairs and walked into their bedroom.  A flash of lightening illuminated the room, casting an eerie glow over Jackie and Royce as their bodies clashed together on the bed.

It was at that moment that Nathan realized his own quest for fame had become his undoing.  Jackie had gone back to Royce as surely as he had broken them up for his own personal gain.  Jonas had been the catalyst, but he went into it with open eyes, and lost his one and only love in the process.

“You couldn’t make her happy and so she went back to Jennings. What else is there to explain?” Jonas had demanded several days later.  “I should have known I couldn’t trust you to do right by my daughter!”

“She went back to him because I was on location nine months out of the year working for you!” Nathan exploded.  “Or have you forgotten that?  You were so busy worrying about getting her away from Royce Jennings that you didn’t stop to think of her happiness.”

“I don’t hear you complaining about your newfound fame,” Jonas insisted.  “You made a choice.  Your career or Jacqueline, and you chose your career.”

“You never gave me a choice!  You wanted to control everything and everyone.  No wonder you’ve failed so often in marriage.  I don’t think you’d know how to love someone, I mean really love someone if you tried.  Instead, you sit all alone in that big mansion of yours with nothing but your servants and your secret passageways to make you happy.”

“My daughter made me happy, but you drove her away,” Jonas exclaimed.  “She left town with that man, and I don’t know when I’ll ever see her again.”

Nathan glared angrily at his mentor.  He knew arguing with him was useless.  It was his own fault for the way he treated Jackie.  Leaving her for so long while he cultivated his precious career.  Now he was paying for it.  And he would never be the same.

“Never again,” he said to himself quietly.  “Never again.”

---

Alex was sprawled out in bed at her home in Malibu.  She flipped through the television and found herself hard pressed to find a station that wasn’t talking about Nathan’s arrival and subsequent arrest.  She was floored to learn that he had already been released, remanded on house arrest until the D.A. decided when a re-trial would happen.  At least he was out of harm’s way at the mansion.  All she had to do was stay away and she’d be fine.

Lifting herself up off the bed proved to be exhaustive.  She lit a cigarette and gazed out the window at the roaring ocean.  Suddenly, she realized that while she was safe from Nathan’s harm, others weren’t.  Miranda lived at the mansion and could easily be one of Nathan’s victims.  Related or not, she wouldn’t put it past him.  And Brooke.  Well, did she really care about Brooke?  No.   But in good conscience she wouldn’t wish that kind of torture on any woman, even Brooke Taylor.  And she was certain that someone else would fall victim to his legacy.  Madame Valda had predicted it at the Mardis Gras party.

Sighing, she fled from the bedroom and down the hall.  Her nightgown billowed behind her as she made her way down the spiral staircase.  She paused on the landing, reflecting on a row of framed one-sheets from her film career.  Her eyes narrowed on the poster from Serendipity Express, her first film with Nathan.  It had been so long ago.  Now he was back, and she was taken right back to that first time they’d met.

. . . . . . . . January, 1979 . . . . . . . .

Alex’s agent arranged a meeting for her with Nathan Blackthorne.  He seemed to have learned quite a bit about her prior to their meeting.  Like that she moved to Hollywood from Detroit just a year before, did some modeling and went through some auditions that didn’t pan out, until Double Strike Studios cast her in Bad Night, a B horror movie that got banned in most countries.  After that came Midnight Show, and more controversy over its graphic content.  Alex Reynolds, just 17 years old, had made a name for herself in the schlock shock basement, and Nathan was determined to turn things around for the raven-haired beauty.  He was infatuated with her.

They met at the Polo Lounge at the Beverly Hills Hotel.  Alex tried hard not to appear star struck, but she soon realized her efforts were futile.  Nathan Blackthorne was the most famous actor of their time.  She’d seen every picture he’d ever made and found him incredibly dashing, not to mention sexy.   Why he fought so hard to get a meeting with her was beyond her imagination.

“You really are lovely,” Nathan said as he watched her sip her Shirley Temple.  “I could see it on the screen the other night, despite your less than attractive makeup job.”

“It pays the bills,” Alex replied.  “Stephan Brackett was a joy to work with.  He’s a visionary.”

“If by visionary you mean a director who douses his lead actress in buckets of blood, then yes, I suppose he is,” Nathan said with a grin.   “Jonas Lamont has a new film he’s preparing for Lamont 3 called Serendipity Express.  A romantic comedy.  It’ll be my first stint at co-starring and directing the same picture.  I think it’s time you were involved in something really meaningful.”

“Meaningful?” Alex asked, the innocence in her eyes shining blatantly across the table.  “I’ve only always wanted to be a working actress.  I’m not interested in making a statement.”

“Well, you don’t have to make a statement to star in a self-respecting film,” Nathan reasoned.  He took a deep breath and smiled at the exotic scent that emanated from her from across the table.   “Tell me that you’re satisfied with working for Stephan Brackett and I’ll leave you alone.

She only hesitated briefly before offering a disarming response.   “I’m never satisfied.”

Nathan stared at the silky smoothness of her shoulders, covered ever so slightly by a satin halter top, and grinned devilishly.  “Then hold on to your hat, sweetheart, you’re about to become a star.”

. . . . . . . . June, 1979 . . . . . . . .

Principal photography for Serendipity Express took place in upstate New York aboard a real-life passenger train.   Alex relished the attention from the cast and crew.  She had her own cabin as a dressing room instead of a dirty shack outside the studio at Kismet where she shot Midnight Show, and an actual hair and wardrobe person who made her more beautiful than she could have imagined.  It was all thanks to Nathan.   She’d quickly grown accustomed to his charms, to his attentiveness, and to his promises of stardom.

On the second day of filming, they were to share a passionate kiss, which she felt a little apprehensive about as it was her first on screen kiss.  Of course, the fact that Nathan was dashing and worldly made it all the easier to get into the part.  She let him lead, and she felt herself grow weak at the knees even while the cameras were rolling and all eyes were on them.

Later, they shared a drink on the bar car and talked about the day’s scenes. 

“Did you love her?” Alex asked, stirring her Shirley Temple with her straw.

“Did I love who?” Nathan asked with an arched eyebrow.

Alex didn’t blink.  “The woman you were thinking about during that scene.”

Nathan could see how astute she was, the mark of a good actress.  He smiled fondly and nodded.  “I did, yes,” he said distantly.

“What happened?”

He shrugged.  “The business got in the way.  She couldn’t handle it, so she took off.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Ten years,” Nathan replied, thinking bitterly about Jackie.  Since she left, he hadn’t come to grips with it, or felt compelled to become involved with anyone else. 

Alex moved over next to him.  She could see the hurt in his eyes, which was the first time since their meeting that she saw any real emotion.

“Was she an actress?”

“Shhh,” Nathan said and covered her lips with his finger.  He didn’t wish to talk any more about Jackie or their marriage, or the way he destroyed it with his devotion to her father and the business.  Despite his love for her, she wound up nothing more than the business arrangement Jonas had instigated.  But it was much easier to blame Jackie for it all.

He put his hand on Alex’s leg and leaned in, kissing her on the lips and then pulling away to test her reaction.  Moments later, he kissed her again, and she succumbed to his advances.  A short while later they were in her private cabin making love until dawn.

---

Brooke found James in his study downstairs.  Tightening the belt around her nightgown, she waited in the doorway until he looked up and took notice to her.

“Going to bed?” he asked coldly, rifling through a stack of drilling reports from Blackthorne-Reynolds.

“Soon,” she replied.  “I was hoping that you would come with me.  You didn’t sleep at all again last night.  You must be exhausted.”

James shook his head distantly and went back to his task at hand.  “I’m too busy,” he said quickly.  “The pipeline, Nathan, Ethan, whatever’s going on with Miranda and Stormy.  I just have too much to do, Brooke.”

“You can’t fix everything in one night.  Please just come to bed and get a good night’s sleep and—”

“I said not now!” James yelled angrily.  He ran his fingers through his hair and walked around the desk to where she stood.  He decided she didn’t deserve that.  She was trying, after all.  “Look, I know you mean well.  I just can’t think about anything else right now.”

She looked at him through cloudy eyes.  “I think you just don’t want to be around me because you blame me that Ethan’s in jail.”

“I never said that,” James argued.

“You didn’t have to,” she said in despair.  “Look, I am sorry that I told Ethan about Will.  I never meant to hurt you or him.  I just wish you’d give me the benefit of the doubt.”

Before he could reply, she turned and walked back out of the room.  James poured himself a glass of scotch and leaned over his desk in frustration.  In some small way it was a relief to be free of the lie about Ethan’s father.  The war with Will started so long ago.  He didn’t know what it felt like to be free of the lies.

 . . . . . . . . November 1980 . . . . . . . .

“Alex, I’d like you to meet my nephew, James,” Nathan said proudly and ushered her into the parlor room of his bungalow on Alvarado Court.  “He just flew in from Kansas, and it’s about time if you ask me.  I’ve been trying to get him out of that backwards town for years.”

“Nice to meet you, James,” Alex said and extended her petite hand to him.  She found him quite attractive, tall and lanky with dark hair and dark eyes.  He was eighteen and extremely impressionable.  But something told her that he had an agenda behind those dark, innocent eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it back for Georgie’s funeral,” Nathan said, speaking of his niece who had died recently—shortly after childbirth.  “How did your folks take it?”

James shook his head solemnly and took the glass of iced tea he offered him.  “Not well,” he said.  “But they promised to keep the secret.  They swore they wouldn’t tell Ethan who his real daddy was.”

 . . . . . . . . One Year Earlier . . . . . . . .

The baby cried in its crib in the back of the old dilapidated farm house.  James could hear him all the way outside where he kicked stones and waited for the doctor and his mother and father to come outside.  They’d already been in there for so long.

An hour later, the old creaky screen door sprung open and closed again when Dr. Recht came out, carrying his medicine bag and his hat tucked under his arm.  He exchanged sorrowful glances at his mother and father and hung his head low.

“I’ll have the funeral home in the next county send a hearse over right away,” said the doctor.  He reached his hand out to them and offered a hopeful smile.  “She’s in a much better place now.”

James shook his head, tears forming in his eyes over the loss of his beloved sister Georgie.  She was only seventeen and she was gone, and he blamed one man for sending her straight to her grave.

“The boy’s got to know who his daddy was,” said James’s mother a few days later while she fed Ethan his bottle.  “We can’t just act like he never existed.”

“He’ll wish that he never existed,” James vowed.  “He left Georgie pregnant and sick, mama.  He never even called to check on her.  She loved that rat bastard and he just took off for his fancy new life in New York City.”

“He wasn’t nothing but a kid himself, James,” his mother pleaded.

James shook his head.  “One day I’m gonna make him sorry,” he claimed.  “I’m gonna go see Uncle Nathan in California and we’re gonna make little Willy Thomerson wish he’d never met any of us Blackthornes.”

 . . . . . . . . December 31, 1980 . . . . . . . .

Jonas had thrown a New Years Eve bash to end all bashes.  Everyone in Hollywood was there.  James tagged along with Nathan and Alex, in awe of his Uncle and his mastery.  He was also quite jealous of his relationship with Alex.  She seemed to have it all, and they were a beautiful couple.  But something told him that she wasn’t in it for love.

“Don’t you just love New Years Eve?” Alex asked, slightly drunk and very carefree as she twirled around the garden beneath the glow of the moon.  “It’s filled with such promise and hope.  I feel like I could do anything, go anywhere!”

James laughed and eyed his uncle across the lawn.  “Where is it you want to go?” he asked, mesmerized by her beauty.

She jumped up onto a chair beside the patio table and looked up at the starry night sky.  “To the moon!” she laughed and spun around again.  This time she lost her balance and James caught her in his arms.

They stared at each other for a few seconds.  “Put me down,” she said softly.

James obliged and dug his hands into his pockets.  “You and my Uncle gonna get married?” he asked.

Alex shot him a look of surprise.  “Married?” she asked.  “What on earth gave you that idea?”

He shrugged.  “You spend a lot of time together.  The papers say you’re Hollywood’s golden couple.”

Alex sighed and flung herself onto the cold grass.  “The papers see what goes on up on the big screen,” she said and gestured dramatically to the sky.  “They like seeing us as lovers in films, so that’s what we give them.  Jonas insists on it.  It makes him a lot of money.”

“And what do you want?” James asked.

She regarded him coyly.  “I want to be star.”

“Is that why you’re with my uncle?” James asked.  “So he can make you a star?”

She looked at him patronizingly.  “Don’t pretend that it’s some crime, James,” she insisted.  “Nathan helps me with my career, and I give him what he wants.”

“Being a star can’t be all you want.  What about love?”

“Why James Blackthorne, I never knew you were so philosophical.  What does a boy from Windsor, Kansas, know about real love?”

Then, without warning, he leaned forward and kissed her hard on the lips.  Alex twisted away from him and pushed him onto the wet grass.

“I’m sorry,” he said and started to get up again.  “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Alex stared at him with surprise.  Not surprised that he kissed her—she knew he would eventually—but surprised that she liked it.  She and James were close in age, unlike her and Nathan, but they had nothing in common.  James was a small-town boy and she was one of the most well-known women in Hollywood.  What possible future could they have?

James, stricken with guilt over kissing his idol’s girl, darted off across the yard, ignoring Nathan when he tried calling after him.

---

Jordan left Renee at the hospital with Sierra while he headed home to shower and change clothes.  Now that Sierra was out of the woods, he expected Renee to divulge more information about her startling admission.  How she could have lied to her daughter for her entire life was beyond him.  It angered him, and yet it made him want to protect her.

After cleaning himself up and slipping into a burgundy velvet Gucci tracksuit, he went to the answering machine and checked his messages.  James had called, telling him there was to be a huge party at the mansion that night in Nathan’s honor.  He wasn’t sure how to feel about Nathan’s return.  Obviously, there was some kind of history between him and Renee that she hadn’t felt comfortable enough to divulge.  He wondered what had gone on between them all those years ago.

 . . . . . . . . September, 1981 . . . . . . . .

Jonas, now at the golden age of 81, had a garden party at the mansion to introduce his newest bride, Lola Marlowe-Beauchamp-Rydell-Lamont, a 54 year old woman who happened to be the oldest of all four of his brides; Midge, Nina, Joy, and now Lola.  She was an actress who was also a USO girl touring during the second world war with Bob Hope.  She had a twenty-year-old son named Jordan who immediately took to Nathan for inspiration.  Jordan, like James, had made himself a fixture in Nathan and Alex’s relationship, joining them on the set of their latest films, and spending long nights at Nathan’s bungalow on Alvarado Court in deep conversation with Alex.  Lola didn’t hide her disapproval of her son’s infatuation with Alex Reynolds, the scream queen turned serious actress through the help of Nathan.

“Mary Ann, I must talk to you about that scene yesterday,” Lola said and drug Alex off to a corner of the lush green lawns of the estate.

Alex rolled her eyes and shrugged her off.  “I’ve told you a thousand times, my name is Alex now.  Alex Reynolds.”

Lola smiled.  “Oh that’s right, I just keep thinking that if someone is going to change their name, why pick something so androgynous as Alex.”

Lola was co-starring with Alex in The Briar Patch, another Lamont 3 production directed by Jonas in an effort to re-expose his new wife to the Hollywood scene.  Her days as an actress were over, so it was with the assumption that throwing Alex into the cast would reinvigorate Lola’s career.  

“Listen, Alex,” she continued, drawing her name out in a thoroughly patronizing fashion.  “Do you think that you were upstaging me just the tinsiest bit in that scene on the docks yesterday?  I mean, I feel that my character really has the upper hand.  Your portrayal was over the top, in my opinion, and to be completely frank—”

“Let’s cut the crap, Lola,” Alex cut her off.  She’d learned to stand on her own in the two years that she’d been exposed to Nathan’s influence.  Women like Lola Lamont didn’t intimidate her.  Not even when she knew what the real reason was for her confrontation.

“I’ll cut the crap if you leave my son alone,” Lola said, her piercing eyes shooting into Alex’s like daggers.

“I have no interest in Jordan,” Alex insisted and folded her arms.

Lola turned and saw her son staring at Alex from across the lawn, a sheepish grin while he talked casually to Charles Merteuil over an investment opportunity.  “I know my son,” she said while waving across the crowd at him.  “He’s smitten with you.”

“And that would be so bad because?”

“You are with Nathan, aren’t you?”

Alex shook her head.  “I’m not with Nathan.  Nathan is helping me with my career.  End of story.”

Lola dramatically brought her hands to her mouth and gasped.  “Oh, I’m so sorry, dear,” she began.  “I just assumed that since you live with him, sleep with him, and are never seen apart, that you’re together.  My mistake.”

“We’re close,” Alex said.

“Are you saying that you don’t love him?” Lola asked.

Alex shrugged and considered her reply carefully.  “No, I don’t love him,” she said reluctantly.  After all, she didn’t.  He was a great influence, a wonderful lover, and a huge stepping stone for her career, but that was all.  She loved the man and the legend, but not Nathan.

Beneath the catering tent a few feet away, Nathan watched them with a taut expression.  Hearing Alex admit her feelings was a shock, but he quickly pushed any feeling down below the surface.  It wasn’t worth it to him.  Not this time.  He wouldn’t make the same mistakes he made with Jackie.  He wouldn’t let a woman get to him again.

For her next mission, Lola cornered Jordan by the gazebo where he played a crochet match with Renee Merteuil.  She pulled a young woman along with her, nudging her before her son as if offering a prize.

“Darling, look who it is,” Lola said with a grin.

“Suzanne,” Jordan said with a smile as he extended his hand to the ravishing brunette.  “How are you?”

“I’m well,” replied Suzanne Rogers, an eighteen-year-old actress who starred on the daytime soap, The Young at Heart.   She was also starring with Nathan in another of Jonas’s current productions, Happy Neighbors.

“Do the two of you know each other?” Lola asked, surprised that her match making skills were so finely tuned.  Maybe her intrusion wasn’t necessary.  Maybe Jordan wouldn’t be so dumb as to fall for Mary Ann McCormack, or Alex Reynolds of whatever she was calling herself these days.

“Yeah, I met Suzanne the other day on the set with Nathan,” Jordan said, finding the young woman to be startling beautiful.  He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“How lovely,” Lola said.  “Well, I should leave the two of you alone.  I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.”  She kissed Jordan on the cheek and sauntered off to join her husband. 

“I wonder what that was all about,” Suzanne said with a grin and waved a polite hello to Renee Merteuil.

Jordan blushed and dug his hands into his pockets.  “She’s always trying to fix me up.  I guess she just worries about me.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

Jordan laughed.  “Nothing about Lola is sweet,” he said and quickly switched subjects.  “This isn’t the first film of Jonas’s you’ve done, is it?”

Suzanne shook her head and flashed her effortless smile at him.  “No, I was in Hollow Tree.  Just a small part, but I had a great time.  Wasn’t your brother in that too?”

“Half brother,” Jordan corrected her.  “Troy is Lola’s son from her first marriage.”

She smiled sweetly and began plucking petals from a single white Shasta daisy.  Jordan watched her carefully, finding Suzanne Rogers to be refreshingly sweet.

. . . . . . . . Two Weeks Later . . . . . . . .

Filming on the set of Happy Neighbors wrapped up, at least for Suzanne.  She was in her trailer tissuing off her heavy stage makeup when the door opened and Nathan entered.

“What do you want?” she asked after viewing his reflection in the mirror.  “I just want to get out of here and leave this nightmare behind me.”

“Oh, my dear, it hasn’t been that bad, has it?” Nathan asked and walked up behind her.  He placed his hand on her shoulder and caressed her neck.  A flinch from Suzanne told him the advances weren’t welcome.

“You mean having you make inappropriate suggestions to me for the last two weeks?” she asked. “Gee, it’s been a picnic.  I’ll be sure to tell the union what a fabulous co-star you are to work with.”

“I think I’m a pretty good co-star,” he said meekly and stepped closer.

Suzanne shot to her feet and backed up away from him.  “You’re a sex fiend,” she said.  “And you’re supposed to be with Alex.  Meanwhile, you’re hitting on me and every other woman on the set of this movie?”

“Alex and I are not an item, contrary to public opinion,” Nathan said.  “I, however, can’t say the same thing about you and Jordan.  He used to hang out on the set of whatever picture I was working on.  Now it seems he’s only hanging out to see you.”

She glared heatedly and skirted away from him.  “Jordan and I are friends.  His mother introduced us.”

“Good old Lola, always on the lookout for the greater good,” Nathan said and leaned in to her.  He attempted to brush his lips against her neck but she expertly dodged away from him.  She’d gotten good at that lately.

“He looks up to you, you know,” Suzanne insisted.  “Jordan idolizes you, and this is how you treat him?”

“The two have nothing to do with each other,” he said with a sheepish grin.

Fed up, Suzanne brought her knee up and hit him between the legs.  She grabbed her macramé bag and pulled open the trailer door.  She was thrilled beyond belief to be done with Happy Neighbors, and with any association with Nathan Blackthorne.

---

That night, the Blackthorne mansion was brimming with activity.  Dozens upon dozens of actors, directors, producers and models filled the foyer and ballroom, schmoozing and mingling while sipping champagne and nibbling at caviar.  A four-piece band played in the corner while butlers passed canapés on sterling silver trays.

James and Nathan stood in the foyer, both dressed in tuxedos, and Brooke in a floor-length cream-colored Armani gown.  They chatted politely with Marilee Walker and her husband, Seth.

“So, Brooke, when can we expect to see you returning to the workforce?  Or is taking care of that beautiful baby boy becoming a full-time job in itself?”

Brooke smiled and tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder.  “Actually, I haven’t really thought about it.”

“That’s right, James told me you did makeup for a few pictures,” Nathan remarked.  “I don’t suppose that kind of grunt work appeals to you anymore.  You’ll probably want to spent as much time with Michael as you can, I’m sure.”

“For now, yes,” she replied, eyeing James uncomfortably.

“If you want my opinion, you belong in front of the camera, my dear,” Nathan said with a wink.  “A face like that begs to be looked at.  And I should know.  I’ve worked with some of the most beautiful women in the world.”

Brooke blushed with embarrassment and clutched to James’s side.  She saw Nathan looking at her with his glossy eyes and perfect smile and she felt a sense of unease.  There was something in his eyes, something she couldn’t put her finger on. 

 . . . . . . . . February, 1982 . . . . . . . .

“I didn’t tell you because frankly it’s none of your business,” Alex said coldly in between takes on Cannons Fire.  “We’re a screen presence, Nathan.   Hollywood’s golden couple.  It’s all an image.  You’ve said so dozens of times.”

Nathan tried to appear disaffected.  “I just thought that when my own nephew is involved I would get a little advanced warning.”

“James and I are in love,” she said stubbornly.  “Nobody could help that.  Nobody could prevent that.”  She turned and started toward her trailer when Nathan grabbed her arm and pulled her back.  “Let go of me!”

“You don’t know what you’re giving up by marrying James, sweetheart,” he said with steely grey eyes.

Alex swallowed hard, for the first time frightened by the way Nathan looked at her.

 . . . . . . . . May, 1982 . . . . . . . .

The wedding was the biggest and most lavish that Hollywood had seen in decades.  It was held on the grounds of Jonas’s mansion and the whole town was in attendance.  Alex wore a flowing pearl white Chanel gown with a beaded headdress; James dapper in a classic white tuxedo.  His best man was Kenny DeWitt, a law school student who he’d met at one of Jonas’s parties.  Alex’s maid of honor was Suzanne, despite the fact that neither woman really cared for the other that much.  But Alex didn’t have many female friends.

Nathan attended, despite his reluctance.  Getting emotionally involved with Alex had been a mistake, one that he’d vowed to never do again.  After Jackie, he had sworn off any real emotion with other women.  Then Alex came along, and he fell in love.  Now, again, he was left devastated.  He was a fool for thinking by denying his feelings for all these years they would be any less significant.

The ceremony went off without a hitch.  Lola was thrilled that Alex was no longer a threat to her precious Jordan, who was incidentally getting along roses with Suzanne. 

“I’m sorry about the way this happened,” James said to his uncle in a private moment at the reception.  “You just always said that Alex didn’t mean anything to you.  We spent a lot of time together, and—”

“You don’t have to say anything, James,” Nathan insisted.  He had mastered the art of hiding his feelings.  “Couples on the screen often have off screen romances that don’t mean anything.  Such as Alex and I.  I’m just happy that you’ve found your way here.  You’re on the road to becoming a powerful man in Hollywood.  Alex is the perfect accessory to that success.”

“Thank you,” James said, unsure of whether he believed him or not.

“I got you a present,” Nathan admitted.

“Nathan, you shouldn’t have gotten me—”

“We’ve finally sealed Will Thomerson’s fate.  That injunction I filed in your name against his play about Georgie has been approved.  Georgie’s Song won’t be premiering on Broadway or anywhere else for that matter.  His career is ruined, and he’ll know that you were behind it.”

James was thrilled, but he didn’t have an opportunity to show it.  Across the lawn, a small group had gathered, gasping and chattering and pointing.

“What’s going on?” he asked and became nervous after seeing the solemn looks on faces of the wedding guest.

They ambled over to the scene, first spotting Lola drenched in tears, flailing her arms about and crying dramatically.   Jordan and Suzanne were stationed beside her trying to calm her down.

“Lola?” Nathan asked and moved to the front of the crowd.  There, he saw what the commotion was all about.  Jonas was laying on the grass, his collar unbuttoned and his face glistening beneath the warm sun.

“He’s dead,” Jordan said and clutched to his mother’s arm.

---

Brooke had gone upstairs to check on Michael in the nursery, thankful for a few minutes of peace and quiet alone in the dark room.  She switched on the glowing butterfly nightlight beside the crib and reached down to stroke the baby’s face.  Smiling at his peaceful slumber, she barely noticed when the door creaked open behind and a figure entered the room.

The floor creaking resonated through the room and she quickly spun around, startled to see Nathan standing there in the dark.  Struggling to catch her breath, she placed a hand on her beating heart and managed a faint smile.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” Nathan said.  “I saw you come upstairs and I thought you might be checking on Michael.”  He motioned to the crib and then looked at Brooke.  “May I?”

Nodding, Brooke stood aside and watched as he peered down into the crib where Michael lay fast asleep.

“He’s a beautiful baby, Brooke,” Nathan said, then turned back to her.  “Beautiful just like his mother.”

Again, Brooke saw that same look in his eyes.  She swallowed hard, trying her best to be as polite as possible.  Nathan was James’s uncle, after all, and a guest in their home.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.  “Well, I should get downstairs.”

Nathan reached out and stopped her from leaving.  “I’m sorry, was I bothering you?” he asked.  “You probably wanted to come up here to get away from that madness downstairs.  And here I am intruding.”

“No, it isn’t that,” Brooke insisted.  “I just….know that James will be wondering where I am.”

Nathan nodded and smiled again.  A calculated smile, Brooke decided.  Probably from years in show business.  “Of course,” he said, and then gestured to the door.  “I’ll walk with you.”

Brooke eyed him carefully, trying to shake off an eerie feeling in the pit of her stomach.  She started to the door, deciding it was probably just everything she’d heard about him over the years.  He was actually a very sweet and docile man.  James adored him so she was certain she would too.

---

Alex arrived to the party after much hesitation.  She was dressed in a beautiful sequin gown and a black veil covering her face.  She ignored the hushed whispers and stares from onlookers, all in amazement that she would show her face  But she had to.  She had to show that she wasn’t afraid..

“I can’t believe she came,” whispered Victor Distefano, one actor she’d worked on several films with.

“After what she said about him on the stand?” murmured Eric Autumn, a director of another film.

Holding her head high, Alex entered the foyer and exchanged pleasantries with a few people.  Her eyes traveled up the stairs to where Brooke and Nathan were just coming from the nursery. Suddenly, she began to see flashes from an ugly scene from the past.

 . . . . . . . . July 1984 . . . . . . . .

After Jonas’s heart attack and subsequent death, Nathan became an embittered man.  The set of his and Alex’s next movie, Daylight in St. Thomas, was sheer torture for Alex.  It was James’ first production with his newly branded company, Sunset Studios, and he was particularly eager for Nathan, his idol, to be involved.

Alex didn’t want to do the movie, as she had a one-year-old, Ryan, at home during most of the filming.  Plus, James was always away so she felt particularly alone.  She knew Nathan hadn’t gotten over their relationship, despite the 2 years that had passed.  As soon as filming in the Caribbean was done, she and James were home again, but James had to leave for Berlin to do location shooting for his next film.  James had bought Jonas’s enormous house for her.  She was alone, and Nathan had paid a late-night visit.

A burst of lightening illuminated the house, echoing through the walls and shaking the foundation.  Alex raced down the stairs, her nightgown billowing behind her with every step.  Suddenly, a pair of hands wrapped around her and pulled her back.  She screamed, fighting him off and realizing it was a futile effort.

“Not so fast, my dear,” Nathan said and carried her back up the stairs.  He ignored her screams and her constant struggle.  Entering the master bedroom, he set her down and threw her across the room to the bed.

“Stay away from me!” Alex screamed as he loomed over her and covered her with his strong body.

“You used to enjoy our lovemaking,” Nathan said and quickly ripped off her nightgown.  “You said I was the best there was.  Or was that just so that I’d help you with your career?  Now that you’re married to my nephew you discard me, is that it?”

“Please stop!” Alex screamed as he brutalized her on her and James’ bed.

“Well, I found you and I introduced you to my nephew,” Nathan said, gritting his teeth.  “You were my protégé.  You belong to me.”

She cried silently, wishing that he would stop, but he ravaged her relentlessly.

 . . . . . . . . Present Day . . . . . . . .

As soon as Brooke was a safe distance from Nathan, Alex ran to her and pulled her to the side. 

“I have to talk to you,” she said urgently.

---

Crickets chirped in the night air and the full moon cast a blue glow over the terrace just outside the family room at the Blackthorne mansion.  Inside, the party was still going strong, with droves of Hollywood personalities showing up to welcome Nathan Blackthorne back from his extended exile.  On the terrace, Brooke wriggled her arm away from Alex and shot her a penetrating stare.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.  “Whatever you have to say is of no concern to me.”   She attempted to skirt past her and escape the tense scene on the terrace. 

“I’m trying to do you a favor,” Alex purported.   “If you’d just stand still and listen to me for a minute.”

“Why should I listen to anything you have to say?” Brooke asked as she stopped and turned back to her.  “In the entire time I’ve been with James the only thing you’ve ever given me is a slap across the face.”

Alex sighed dismissively.  “I didn’t mean that,” she said.  “I was in a bad place at that time.  I was hurt and angry that James threw me aside for you.”

“And now you’re not?”

“No, of course I’m not,” she said.  “I’m over all that.  What I’m trying to do now is save you from a world of hurt.  Brooke, whatever you do you cannot trust Nathan Blackthorne.  He is a very dangerous man.”

“Nathan?” Brooke asked in disbelief.  “Why are you bothering me about Nathan?  He just got into town.  James has never been happier.  I don’t—”

“I saw you coming down the stairs with him,” Alex interrupted, a faraway look in her eyes as she recalled violent images from a night over twenty years ago.  She’d been up in the nursery checking on Stormy.  Nathan cornered her and she ran away in fear, but he overpowered her.

Brooke thought about her run-in with Nathan in the nursery a few minutes earlier.  Granted, she had gotten an unsettling feeling from him, but it was probably just because she didn’t know him, and he was rather intense.  Probably from years of experience as a character actor.

“So what?” she finally said.  “He wanted to look in on Michael.  There’s no crime in that.”

“That’s what I thought that night here at the mansion,” Alex insisted.  “And then he came after me.  I couldn’t get away.  He raped me, Brooke.”

Brooke studied her face carefully.  She could easily make things sound more dramatic than they were.  She was an actress, after all.

“James was always away on location shoots.  I was alone with Stormy for weeks at a time.  Nathan would come around and—”

“But you recanted your testimony and said he didn’t rape you.  Now you’re saying he did.  Honestly, who is going to believe anything you say about Nathan?”

“It’s the truth,” Alex insisted.  “I had to recant my testimony.” 

“Didn’t you also have a relationship with him before you and James married?” Brooke asked.  “He helped you with your career, didn’t he?”

“Yes.’

“And then you ended the relationship and married James.”

“Yes, and Nathan never got over it!” Alex exclaimed.  She reached out to her and gave her a look of full warning.  “I’m only trying to help you, Brooke.  He’s living in this house with you.  I’m telling you to watch out.  Don’t ever let your guard down with him.”

“I don’t have to listen to any more of this,” Brooke said.  “All you’ve ever done is try to cause trouble with my marriage.  Now here you are doing it again.  James is happy.  We have our son back, and he has his uncle in his life again.  I won’t have you ruining everything for him!”

With that, she turned and raced back inside the house, leaving Alex frustrated on the terrace.

 . . . . . . . . July 1984 . . . . . . . .

“I can’t believe you would say something like that about my own flesh and blood,” a dumbfounded James said to Alex upon his return from Berlin.  He’d expected to come home, kiss his wife and son, and enjoy a relaxing weekend at home.  Instead, he was confronted with an ugly lie.

“You think I’m making it up?” Alex asked, tears streaming down her face.  “How dare you!”

“How dare you spread such filthy lies about my uncle!” James lamented.  “It isn’t bad enough what we did to him?  You had to twist the knife by lying about him raping you?”

“What we did to him?” Alex asked in disbelief.  “We fell in love.  Where’s the crime in that?  My god, James, you have never gotten over your guilt, have you?  For the past two years you’ve bowed to that man like he was some kind of god.  He’s human, just like you and me.  And he never loved me, I can tell you that much.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” James insisted and paced back and forth in their bedroom.  “When I came to Los Angeles I saw the way he acted around you.  He adored you.  And I let myself fall in love with you.  I hurt him so badly.”

“So what are you saying?  That you regret falling in love with me and getting married?” Alex demanded.  “Is that it, James?”

“No!” he yelled.  “I just think Nathan deserves better than this.  He taught me the business, gave me the money to start up Sunset Studios, and pulled the strings to get Will Thomerson blacklisted from Broadway.  Now you expect me to cut him out of my life because you claim he raped you?  Alex, why are you doing this?”

She looked at him with disbelief, stepping closer and trembling from head to toe.  “You only see what you want when it comes to Nathan,” she said.  “I wish you could understand that.  I’m your wife, damnit.  You’re loyal to a fault to Nathan.  Where is your loyalty with me?”

---

Across the room, a butler opened the giant mahogany paneled front door and welcomed Renee and Jordan, both dressed elegantly in evening attire that rivaled anyone in the room.  Renee handed the butler her fox fur coat and clutched her purse with a tight fist.        

“Don’t worry,” Jordan said and leaned in close.  “You have your cell phone.  If there’s any word from the hospital they’ll call you.”

Renee sighed and looked nervously around the room.  “What if she wakes up and I’m not there?” she asked in despair and stopped in her tracks.  “I shouldn’t have come.  I can’t do this, Jordan.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her toward him.  “Renee, listen to me,” he insisted, staring into her deep brown eyes and trying to calm her down.  “Sierra is going to be fine.”

Realizing that he was right, Renee collapsed into his arm and let him embrace her comfortingly.  She closed her eyes and finally took a breath.  “I’m so glad that I have you,” she said softly.  “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here for me.”

Jordan smiled and lifted her chin up.  “You won’t have to find out.”

Renee took a step back and pushed her curly black hair into place.  She took a breath and looked around, her eyes suddenly landing on Nathan Blackthorne as he stood across the room with James and Brooke.  She swallowed hard, panic returning quickly.  She tried to look away but it was too late, she had made eye contact with him.  The sinister look in his eyes sent chills down her spine and she suddenly felt light headed.

“Renee, what is it?” Jordan asked after sensing she’d returned to panic mode.  He looked up and saw Nathan coming in their direction.

Trying to catch her breath, Renee realized that she was in no way ready to confront him.  She quickly shot Jordan a look of apprehension.  “Excuse me,” she said and raced off to the ballroom where she hid away amongst the crowd.

Jordan didn’t quite understand her hasty reaction.  He turned back and smiled eagerly when Nathan approached, shaking his hand firmly and patting him neatly on the back.

“Jordan ol’ boy, it’s good to see you again,” Nathan said.  “How have you been?  You look terrific.”

Jordan nodded appreciatively.  “You look good too, Nathan,” he said.  “I’m so thrilled to have you back.  I hear I’m in for quite a battle with Sunset Studios over you.”

Nathan laughed and dug his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo pants. “There’s plenty of time to decide on business,” he said.  “Jordan, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done to get me free of those ridiculous charges.  I’m sure you and James’ lawyers will have me sprung from house arrest in no time.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” Jordan said apprehensively.  “For once James and I are on the same side of an issue.”

Nathan gestured to the ballroom and folded his arms cleverly.  “I saw you with Renee DeWitt a minute ago,” he said.  “The two of you looked pretty close.  Is there something going on between the two of you?”

He shrugged.  “You might say that.”

Nathan nodded eagerly.  “I see.  Well, I can’t wait to catch up on old times with Renee.”

The remark made Jordan curious to say the least.  “I guess I wasn’t aware that you and Renee were that well acquainted.”

“Oh, believe me, we were,” he said.  “Incidentally, I read in the papers some time ago about Suzanne leaving.  I’m so sorry.  Has anyone ever found her?”

Jordan shook his head distantly.

“Well, she was such a sweet young girl,” Nathan remarked.  “To think that she would leave her husband and children like that is strange to say the least.  But I suppose we’ve both lost people close to us.  People we loved and admired.” 

  . . . . . . . July 1982 . . . . . . . .

Jonas’s funeral drew in crowds from every reach of the business.  Anyone who had ever worked with him was there.  From the smallest bit part to the most seasoned actor.  Nathan attended with James, Alex, Lola and Jordan at his side.  As usual, Lola, the grieving widow, seemed to be playing more of a role than showing any real-life emotion.

When their limousine pulled up to the grounds and Nathan stepped out, his eyes immediately locked onto a face from the past.  He knew she would be there, but he secretly hoped that their paths wouldn’t cross.  His heart sank and he wished for a way out, but pandemonium had broken out at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery.  There was nowhere to run.

“Hello Nathan,” said Jackie, ravishing as ever with her long red hair cascading over her shoulders.  She hadn’t aged a bit in the fourteen years since she’d left.  “You’re looking well.”

“So are you,” he replied softly.  “I’m so sorry about your father.”

“Thank you,” Jackie replied.  “He loved you as if you were his own son.”

Then Royce Jennings slid beside her and put an arm around her shoulder.  Next to him was an eleven year old boy who looked remarkably like his father.

“Royce,” he said and politely extended his hand to Jacqueline’s husband.  “Nice to see you again.”  He didn’t know why he said it.  It wasn’t true.

“Likewise,” Royce replied with a permanent grin.

“You remember David, don’t you?” Jackie said and put her hand on her son’s shoulder. 

“Of course.”  Again, Nathan was polite to the extreme.  He wanted to shout and scream and tell her how much she’d hurt him.  Somehow all these years he’d hoped that she was off somewhere alone and miserable.  But to see her now, with a loving husband and their handsome son.  It was disheartening.

---

James led Jordan into his study so they could talk away from the crowd at the party, which appeared to be in full swing.  He poured them each a brandy and handed one to Jordan.

“To Nathan’s return,” James said and gulped the liquid down in one swallow.

Jordan grew quiet and looked inside his glass for a moment or two.  “Do you ever wonder if any of it was true?”

James frowned, tilted his head and looked at him confusion.  “Any of what?”

“The accusations against Nathan,” Jordan responded.  He couldn’t help but question things now that he knew more.  His connection to Renee, Alex’s unreasonable fear of him, the chapter in Debralee Scott’s book about rape survivors.  It all made him wonder if they weren’t trying to set a guilty man free.

“Have you lost whatever is left of your mind?” James demanded angrily.

“No, I just—”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Jordan?” he continued.  “We just spent the better half of three months trying to get my uncle back here.  We’ve assembled the best defense attorneys in the state.  You bought Debralee Scott’s publishing house so that you could bring her here to make that press statement.  Now you’re suddenly changing your mind?  You think he’s the monster than everyone makes him out to be?  I don’t get it.”

“I’m not changing my mind,” Jordan insisted.  He knew he sounded like a raving lunatic.  But he saw the look on Renee’s face when she saw Nathan for the first time. He couldn’t be as innocent as he claimed.  Something about the allegations made against him had to be true.

 . . . . . . . . Rosanne DeMarco . . . . . . . .

“I didn’t bring any head shots with me,” Rosanne said, fidgeting in her seat as she blew bubbles with her stick of gum.  “My agent told me that if you’re a real director you’ll be able to see my talent just by looking at me.”

“Oh, I can tell you’re talented,” Nathan said with a knowing smile.  They were in his bungalow looking over a script.  Rosanne, a perky fifteen-year-old wannabe actress, had sought him out for an audition.  Nathan gladly accepted.

“My agent told me that I have the best shot of any of the girls of getting this role,” she went on to say.  “He said you shouldn’t even bother with any other girls.”

Rosanne didn’t have an agent.  He knew this because there was no role to audition for.  But she amused him so he played along.

“Your resume looks very promising,” he said while looking at the sheet of paper she’d handed him right off.  “But let me be frank, Rosanne, modeling at the shopping mall in Rapid City doesn’t exactly qualify you for a role in this film.  I’m afraid I’m going to need some convincing.”

The girl’s sassy confidence suddenly disappeared.  “Oh, well, I can do that.  I can do whatever you want.  I know I’m right for this role.”

“Of course you are,” Nathan said, got up and moved over beside her.  “Let’s start with a love scene.”

“Love scene?” she asked and shot to her feet.  “I don’t think that I can do that.“

“I’m sorry, I thought that you were a serious actress,” Nathan said in a thoroughly calculating manner.  “If you’re not willing to put in the required amount of work, then—”

“No, I am,” she said quickly.  The façade that she wore going into the audition quickly faded and was replaced with an innocent, wide-eyed girl.   “I am.  I’ll do whatever you think I need to do.  I just need a chance to prove I’m talented.”

He smiled and pulled her back down to the sofa.  “Well, good, then we’re both on the same page.”   He put his arm around her and smelled her hair, aroused by the dewy fresh scent she emitted.

 . . . . . . . . Present Day . . . . . . . .

“He was your idol every bit as much as he was mine!” James yelled, crossing the room and shaking his head in disappointment.  “All those days we spent on movie sets with him, learning from his craft, absorbing his confidence.  You’re willing to throw it all away because you’re giving in to the lies?”

“I don’t know that they’re lies!” Jordan exclaimed.  “Think about it, James.  Alex testified that he’d raped her!  She recanted her testimony and went to prison for perjury!  Does that sound like the Alex Reynolds that you know?”

“I don’t pretend to understand anything that Alex does.”

“She wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Jordan said warily.

 . . . . . . . . Debralee Scott . . . . . . . .

They laid in bed together, Nathan caressing her body as he pressed himself hard against her.  She was the fourth that year.  The one who reminded him the most of Alex.  She was fourteen, but she had the same zest for life that Alex had before she married James.  It was like he was living his past all over again.

“I haven’t gotten any offers yet,” Debralee said.  “I thought you said that you were going to help me.”

“And I am,” Nathan insisted, caressing her gently and relishing the feel of her hair brushing against his chest.  “It’s just a matter of time, my dear.  You’ll be the biggest star in the world when I’m through with you.”

“That’s what you keep saying,” Debralee said awkwardly, cringing as he moved closer yet.  “But when?  You said if I did what you told me I’d be working by now.  But still there’ve been no offers and no—”

“Just relax and enjoy the ride,” Nathan said, moaning despite himself as he climbed on top of her and brushed his lips against her neck.  “Making it in Hollywood is a journey.  Don’t rush it.  Sometimes you have to stop and smell the roses.”

“No, I don’t believe you,” Debralee claimed, pushing him off with all her strength.

Nathan, growing angry by her resistance, pinned her arms down and forced himself on her.  He kissed her hard, biting her lip gently as he began making love to her.  He ignored her silent cries of despair, having his way with her despite her protests.

 . . . . . . . . Present Day . . . . . . . .

“I think he got to Debralee,” Jordan said.  “I think he bribed her, or threatened her like he did Alex.  I don’t believe she told the truth in her statement.  It was too rehearsed.”

“You are unbelievable,” James said angrily, throwing his drink across the room and watching the glass shatter into the fireplace.  “So what are you going to do now?  Share your wild theory with the D.A. so he’ll never be free?  Come on, Jordan, think about what you’re saying.  You’re actually asking me to believe that my uncle, a man who helped me get to where I am today, took advantage of dozens of young girls, including Alex.”

Jordan looked at him blankly.  He didn’t want to believe it.  He wished it wasn’t true, but the more he thought about it the more it made sense.

 . . . . . . . . Sheila Buffamonteezi . . . . . . . .

It was late when Nathan got home from the studio.  His bungalow was dark and he fumbled around for the light switch.  Suddenly, he felt a cool breeze and wondered if he’d left a window open.  But when he heard the sound of a revolving gun chamber, he realized he wasn’t alone.  Quickly, he turned on the lamp and scanned the room.

“My daughter sends her regards,” said the woman standing in the living room with a revolver pointed directly at him.

Nathan didn’t bat an eyelash.  He had grown accustomed to the mother’s and father’s of the young girls coming after him with revenge in their hearts.

“You remember my daughter?” she asked, her hands trembling.  “Sheila?  Thirteen years old?”

“I remember Sheila,” he said.  “You must be Mrs. Buffamonteezi.  The domineering, disapproving mother.  Incidentally, you’re every bit as passive aggressive as she said you were.  I must say, breaking and entering is par for course for you from what Sheila told me.”

“And you’re every bit as vile and disgusting as Sheila said you were!” the woman screamed, rattling the gun in her unsteady hands.  “My daughter came to you with a dream!  And you shot that straight to hell you sick son of a bitch!”

“Relax, Mrs. Buffamonteezi,” he said patronizingly.  “Sheila came to me for help and I helped her to understand the business.  She’s a much better person for it now.”

“Oh my God, you did do it,” she cried, trembling so much that she couldn’t keep the gun steady in her hand.  “You did everything she said you did.  You had sex with my thirteen-year old daughter and promised her a career, but you took her innocence, and you left her broken and ashamed!”

He squinted hard, walking toward her with no hesitation.  “If your daughter was ashamed, it was only because she couldn’t handle the business.  She didn’t have what it took.”

The woman pointed the gun against his chest, knowing in her heart that she didn’t have what it took to pull the trigger. 

“Now,” Nathan began, taking the gun from her and throwing it across the room.  “If you say anything to anyone about what went on between your daughter and I, I promise you she will never work in this town.  She will be blacklisted before anyone’s even heard her name.  She’ll be ruined.”

Mrs. Buffamonteezi backed up and flung herself on to the sofa in a fit of hysterics.  Nathan quickly pulled her up by the arm and drug her to the door, throwing her out into the courtyard with one swift movement.

---

Nathan ambled his way through the crowd in the ballroom.  He smiled and waved to a few celebrities, stopped and kissed the cheeks of a few others, and then finally found Renee standing with Adrienne Fallmont.

Renee saw him approach and immediately tensed.  She tried desperately to escape before he caught her, but it was too late.  She froze like a rabbit in headlights.

“Good evening, ladies,” he said.  “Adrienne, would you mind if I steal Renee for a just a minute?”

“Not at all,” Adrienne replied and made her graceful exit.

After she’d gone, Renee looked at Nathan with steely eyes.  “How nice to see you again, Nathan,” she said with a sarcastic tone.  “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, a long time,” Nathan agreed, looking into her eyes as if he could read her mind.  “You look beautiful.  Still the same girl I knew twenty years ago.  Divorce seems to suit you.”

She narrowed her eyes on him and shrugged indifferently.

“I’d love to get together and see you sometime,” Nathan said after waiting a beat.  “In private.  We have a lot to catch up on.”

Shaking her head, Renee glanced away quickly.  “That’s not possible,” she said.  “I have a lot going on in my life now and there just isn’t time for anyone new.”

Nathan chuckled and reached for her again, but she pulled away.  “I’m not someone new,” he said.  “I’m an old friend.  Is there anything wrong with two old friends getting together to relive old times?”

“I already told you.  It’s not possible.”  With that, she turned and started to walk away but Nathan grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back.  She shot him a look of warning and then pulled away, racing across the room in a hurry.

Jordan spotted her and frowned, even more disturbed by her reaction to Nathan.  He quickly followed her into the library and locked the door behind them.

 . . . . . . . . March, 1987 . . . . . . . .

The full moon hung like a giant orb in the sky above the marina.  Nathan’s yacht bobbed on the surface of the water, romantic music emanating from the interior cabin where he poured two glasses of champagne.

“To us,” he said and handed one to Renee Merteuil.  She was classy, beautiful, twenty-four years old, and had been the first woman to truly excite him since Alex.

Renee accepted the glass and gazed into his eyes. She had never met anyone like Nathan Blackthorne before.  He was so suave, sophisticated, and worldly.  She’d watched him from afar for years, always at the same parties as him, jealous over his relationship with Alex Reynolds.  She easily found herself falling in love with him over the past six months.   Now, eight weeks pregnant, she had finally decided to tell him that she was carrying his child.

“Is something on your mind, my dear?” he asked.  He loved African American women.  They were exotic and smelled heavenly.  He’d spent the last six months worshipping Renee and trying to forget about all the other girls.  The younger girls, the ones who made him feel like he had another chance after his failed relationships with Jackie and Alex.  The girls who needed him.

“There’s just something that I have to tell you,” Renee said in a frightened voice.  She wasn’t sure how he would react.  Nathan was nearly twenty years older than her.  What if he wasn’t as excited about the baby as she was?

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense, Darling,” he said and kissed her warmly. 

She opened her mouth to tell her big news.  It was on the tip of her tongue when the lights came shining through the windows of the yacht, blinding them and startling Renee into silence.

“What the—” Nathan began, turning to look out of the portside windows.

Then the voices through the bullhorn began.  “Nathan Blackthorne.  If you are Nathan Blackthorne, come out with your hands in the air.”

“What’s going on?” Renee asked, terrified by the sudden events.  “Nathan?”

“Stay here, my sweet,” he said.  “I’ll be right back.”

Renee watched as he walked up to the deck where dozens of police officers were waiting for him.  He looked around and smiled nonchalantly.

“Something wrong, boys?” he asked.

“Nathan Blackthorne, we have a warrant for your arrest,” said one of the officers in charge.  He turned Nathan around and locked his hands behind him with a pair of handcuffs. 

Nathan offered a disaffected laugh.  “My, my, such formality.  What, pray tell, are the charges?”

“Debralee Scott’s parents are charging you with statutory rape,” said the officer.

As they led Nathan away, Renee watched from the deck.  Her eyes widened in disbelief.  The evening had not turned out anything like she’d expected.  She went into it planning on delivery life-changing news, and ended with the realization that the man she loved was leading a double life.

 . . . . . . . . May, 1987 . . . . . . . .

“What am I going to do?” Renee asked as Suzanne Rogers handed her a tissue and a cup of tea.   “He’s on trial for statutory rape.  All those young girls….”

“Shhh,” Suzanne said and tried to soothe her friend.  “There’s nothing you can do to change it now.  What’s done is done.”  She felt relieved that she’d gotten away from Nathan before his fetish began.  She knew he was trouble long ago.  Now she happily married to Jordan with a beautiful daughter.  Renee was not so lucky.

“But I’m carrying his child,” Renee sobbed into the tissue.  “I was planning on telling him when he was arrested.  Suzanne, I can’t let this child find out what kind of monster his or her father is.  And what about my parents?  It’s bad enough I’m pregnant and not married, but when they learn who the father is—”

“People are going to find out,” Suzanne cautioned her.  “There’s no way around it, Renee.  Once people find out that you’re pregnant, the newspapers are going to be all over it.  Everyone will know who the father of your baby is.”

“A rapist and child molester,” Renee sobbed.  She couldn’t bare the thought of it. She wouldn’t give her baby that kind of reputation.

“You’ll have to go away,” Suzanne said and reached her hand out to her friend.

“Away?” Renee asked.

“Have the baby somewhere else,” Suzanne continued.  “It’s the only way.”

 . . . . . . . . September, 1987 . . . . . . . .

“Sign here,” said Mr. Montoya.

Renee scribbled her signature on the adoption papers.  She winced from the pain, still not fully recovered from the difficult labor.  Sierra had been born just eight hours earlier, happy and healthy, and thankfully with little resemblance to Nathan.

She’d gone to London to give birth, taken care of by Sara Beth, the mistress of a girl’s school who had been friends with Jonas Lamont in the sixties.  She had no love lost for Nathan Blackthorne and didn’t ask any questions.  Mr. Montoya was an adoption attorney who was easily bribed into forging documents proving that Renee had adopted the baby.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Sara Beth.

Renee huddled in her private room, praying that her secret would stay her own.  “Wait until she’s a little older and then go back to California. Alone.”

Sara Beth looked on with disapproval.  “She won’t know her own mother?”

“Oh, she’ll know her mother,” Renee insisted with a sense of urgency.  “I’ll visit her often.  As often as I have to.  But I can never bring her back to California.”

“But you’ve signed the adoption papers.  Who would think anything if you brought her back now?”

“I can’t take the risk,” she said.  “Look at her.  She looks like me.  My mother will take one look at her and will know that she’s my daughter.”

“But Miss Merteuil…”

“She can never know that that monster is her father,” Renee vowed.

. . . . . . . . Present Day . . . . . . . .

Jordan poured a brandy into a crystal tumbler and handed it to Renee.  She accepted it with a trembling hand and sat down on the leather sofa in the library.

“You were with him when he was arrested?” Jordan asked in disbelief.

She nodded.  “He kept telling me everything was going to be okay, that it was just a mistake.  But the next day his face was all over the papers.  They said there were other girls but none of them would cooperate.  Debralee Scott was the only one who did.  By the time the trial started, I was on my way to Europe where I gave birth to Sierra in secret. Nathan had no idea.  No one did.”

“And you were alone through all of this?”

She nodded.  “I stayed in London until Sierra started boarding school.  Then I came back to Los Angeles and that’s when Kenny and I got married.  And now I’m just so afraid that Nathan will put the connection together and the whole truth will come out!”

“Shhh,” Jordan said and pulled her into an embrace.  He sighed heavily, unsure of what to do with the new information.  He loved Nathan like a father but knew that it would ruin lives if he ever found out about Sierra.  “I’ll protect you and Sierra.  I promise.  No one will find out your secret.”

---

Alex made her way through the crowd and approached the hors d’ oeuvre table where she gathered a small plate from the crudités.  She sighed and looked around the room, ignoring the whispers and stares that practically everyone sent in her direction. 

“You look even lovelier than you did when I last saw you,” said a voice from behind.

Quickly, Alex spun around.  A gasp escaped her throat and she dropped the plate, sending glass shattering in every direction.

“Nathan,” she whispered and instinctively backed up a step.  She knew she couldn’t turn and run.  The scene would be too much for the nosy gossipers and she’d never hear the end of it.  Instead, she forced herself to stay and remain as calm as she could.

“Yes, very lovely indeed,” Nathan said with a sickly smile as he pushed a lock of curly brown hair from her face.  “Not a day older than you looked on the witness stand at my trial.”

Alex took a deep breath and pushed his hand away.  “I wish I could say the same about you,” she said spitefully.  “You look like hell.  Paris obviously didn’t agree with you.”

“Now, now, Alex, let’s not be vindictive.  Is it so hard for you to tell me that you’re glad to see me after all this time?  It’s been twenty years, after all.”

“Glad to see you?” she asked in disgust.  “If I am going to see you it’s only because now you’re going to prove to everyone what kind of man you really are.”

“What?” he asked with a smug grin.  “Don’t tell me you’re still holding on to that claim that I forced myself on you all those years ago.”

Alex looked around quickly, praying that no one could overhear their heated conversation.  “You know damn well you did,” she hissed.

“I’m assuming that you have some kind of proof,” Nathan admonished.  “Were there any witnesses to the alleged rape?”

Yes, there was, Alex thought to herself.

“Stay away from me or I swear—” she began ominously before turning and darting through the crowd away from him.

Nathan swallowed hard, realizing she was probably being her overdramatic self.  But on the other hand, something inside told him that she was serious, no longer the naïve actress he’d met and romanced so many years ago.  The challenging look in her eyes was unmistakable.

 . . . . . . . . May 13, 1987  10:15AM . . . . . . . .

The prosecutor was ruthless.  He’d reduced a long line of defense witnesses to tears on the stand.  Despite the fact that Alex was testifying by her own free will, Mr. Edwards didn’t make it easy for her.  Neither did James who pleaded with her to reconsider what she was about to do.

“If you do this, you will be sending him away for a lifetime,” he’d cautioned his wife minutes before she took the stand.  “If what you say happened actually happened, what difference could it make now?  It’s been three years.”

“The prosecution thinks that my testimony will help.  They’re having difficulty proving anything about those girls he took advantage of.  Debralee was the only one who would cooperate.”

“He’s my Uncle!” James shouted.  “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“What about what this is doing to me?” Alex demanded, tears already flowing.  “You’ve chosen to side with your uncle over your own wife.  My god, James, we have a five-year-old son at home, and a two-year-old daughter.  We’re supposed to be a family.”

“I haven’t chosen him over you,” James insisted.  “I thought we were through with all of this nonsense.  We’ve been happy for three years.”

She glared at him with contempt.  “Why can’t you see what I’d be doing if I didn’t testify!  I’d be letting a monster go free!  You can’t possibly expect me to do that!”

And so, she did take the stand, and Mr. Edwards grilled her relentlessly about that night at the mansion.  He told her to expect it.  It was a tactic to draw out emotions that the jury could see and sympathize with.

“What was Nathan Blackthorne’s purpose for coming by your home that night, Ms. Reynolds?” he asked her.

Alex, seated on the witness stand in a black dress and dramatic veil over her eyes, trembled from head to toe.  She couldn’t look Nathan in the eyes, or James for that matter.  Their looks of disapproval tore her apart.

“He said that he needed to pick up a script that James had in his study,” she explained tearfully.  “I went upstairs to check on Ryan in the nursery.”

“What happened then, Ms. Reynolds?”

She collected her thoughts as best she could.  “I turned around and there he was, staring at me with those intense eyes of his.  I was frightened.”

“Why were you frightened?” Edwards asked.

“Because since I married James, Nathan had been very hostile towards me.”

“And why was that?”

Alex shrugged.  “Because he was in love with me, and I married his nephew.  I don’t think he ever got over it.”

“Objection!” called one of Nathan’s defense attorneys.  “The witness has no way of knowing what my clients’ emotional state of mind was.”

“Sustained,” said the judge.

Edwards withdrew his question and continued his inquisition.  “Ms. Reynolds, tell us what happened next.”

“It told him to leave and he didn’t, so we argued.  He tried to kiss me, and I pushed him away.”  She took a deep breath and recalled the events as if they were happening at that very moment.  “I ran down the stairs to get away from him, but he came after me.  He carried me back to the master bedroom and threw me onto the bed.  He told me that I was his protégé and that I belonged to him.”

“And that’s when the defendant, Mr. Blackthorne, raped you?”

“Yes,” Alex replied.

Nathan glared at her from his seat in court.  He wasn’t about to go to prison because of Alex Reynolds.

 . . . . . . . . May 13, 1987  1:15PM . . . . . . . .

“That was quite a display in there this morning,” Nathan said during a recess.  “I almost forgot what a convincing actress you could be.  Did I recognize a line somewhere in your testimony from your monologue in Roundabout?”

“It was fact,” she said and attempted to dart around him.

Nathan pulled her back and bore his dark eyes into hers.  “You could very well have ruined me for good, Alex, my dear,” he hissed.  “If it hadn’t been for you, I would have been acquitted for sure.  My lawyers aren’t too happy with your cooperation with the prosecution.”

“I don’t care,” Alex said defiantly.

“You will care,” he said in a deep, throaty voice.  Leaning forward, he clasped his hand firmly around her arm.  “If you don’t make things right.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Because if you don’t, I will make sure that your children never see their mother’s beautiful face again,” he said ominously.  “I’ll see to it that James banishes you from his life, and from your children’s lives forever.  Then I’ll see to it that that beautiful face of yours is unrecognizable.  Your career will be finished.  You will wish you’d never been born when I get through with you.”

 . . . . . . . . Fifteen Minutes Later . . . . . . . .

“Your honor, I’d like to recall Alex Reynolds to the stand,” said Nathan’s defense attorney.

Hushed whispers from the spectators filled the room.  James frowned and looked around in confusion.  He glanced a few rows back where Lola and Suzanne and Jordan were seated.  They appeared as perplexed as he was. 

“Ms. Reynolds, were you telling the truth during your testimony this morning?” the attorney asked and crossed the courtroom.  “The full truth?  And may I remind you that you are under oath.”

Alex cried silently in the witness stand.  She looked at the jury, and then at Nathan whose eyes seized her into intense fear.

“It….it was late and I was tired,” she said softly.  “I guess I might have been confused.”

More gasps from the spectators.  James’s eyes flashed open in shock and his eyes met with Nathan’s.

“So, Nathan Blackthorne, the defendant, did not force you into sexual intercourse?” the attorney asked.

After a few torturous moments, Alex nodded and mouthed a simple “no.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get that.”

“I said no.”

“No what?”

“NO, he didn’t rape me!” Alex cried, agonizing over the fact that she had to change her testimony.  She had no choice.  If she didn’t, she knew exactly what Nathan would do to her.  He’d been in too many mob movies to not know how to take care of someone if he really wanted to.

“So, you lied to the court this morning,” the attorney charged.  “You made up that story to get an innocent man convicted of a crime he didn’t commit, didn’t you?”

“No, I was confused, I—” Alex sobbed.

“Confused?  Your honor, I must ask for the courts indulgence.  Ms. Reynolds gave a disturbingly precise account of a rape that apparently never took place.  Now she is lying again by claiming she was simply confused.”

“Ms. Reynolds, you do know what the penalty is for perjury, don’t you?” the judge asked. 

Alex nodded somberly. 

“Bailiff, take the witness into custody.  I’ll decide on sentencing at a later date.”

Alex cried silently as the guard led her out of the courtroom, all eyes on her as she made her shameful exit.

 . . . . . . . . May 14, 1987 . . . . . . . .

“We just got a report from our mole in the jury pool,” said one of Nathan’s attorneys while a group of them had drinks at his bungalow.  “It looks like they’re leaning toward a guilty verdict.”

Nathan wasn’t about to accept his fate.  Even with Alex’s second testimony, it seemed he was destined to be convicted.  “There’s got to be something we can do!” he insisted.

“Maybe there is,” said Victor Distefano, one of Nathan’s best friends and frequent co-stars.

Two hours later, Victor’s private jet was fueled up on the tarmac.  They waited until it was late at night when reporters wouldn’t see them driving to the airfield in the black sedan.

“By the time the jury comes back with their verdict tomorrow morning, you’ll be in a lavish penthouse in Paris,” Victor said and gave his friend a pat on the back. 

“Thank you, Victor,” Nathan said with an appreciative smile.  “You’ll give my best to James and Jordan, won’t you?”

“Of course,” he replied and watched as his friend climbed the steps to the plane.

---

It was after midnight and the party was winding down.  Alex waited outside under the porte-cochere for her driver to pick her up when Jordan emerged from the house, his hands dug deep in his pockets.  He looked into her eyes and saw the panic.

“Alex, why did you come?” he asked.

She waited a beat before swallowing hard.  “I had to prove that I wasn’t afraid.”

Her car arrived and the driver opened the door for her.  Before she could get into the back seat, Jordan gently grabbed her arm and pulled her back.  “But you are afraid, aren’t you?”

She looked at him silently before pulling her arm away and getting inside.  She closed the door and watched through the window at Jordan disappearing in the distance.   Once they were on the main road, she thought back to the day they learned Nathan had fled the country.

 . . . . . . . . May 15, 1987 . . . . . . . .

“Pity,” Lola said to Alex in her jail cell.  “What do you want to bet one of his Hollywood friends got him out of the country.  Now he’ll never have to answer for what he did.”

Alex regarded her closely.  “You believe he’s guilty?”

Lola appeared surprised.  “Oh, of course I believe.  He’s guilty as sin.  I’ve known it from the beginning.  I was there, after all.  I saw what he did to you.”

She couldn’t believe her ears.  “What do you mean you saw?”

“I saw him attack you at the mansion that night,” Lola explained casually as she swooped into a giant handbag for her Chanel sunglasses and matching umbrella.

Alex grabbed her to get her attention.  “You were there?”

Lola nodded.  “That’s what I said, Mary Ann.  I sometimes get homesick for the mansion, so I sneak in through the tunnels.  My condo is fine, but I feel nostalgic for the old days with Jonas, you know.”

“You saw and you didn’t do anything?” Alex demanded in a shrill voice.  “You let me go up there and lie to save his life and you didn’t say anything?  What is wrong with you?”

Lola finally looked into her eyes.  “Mary Ann, do you remember our scene on the docks in The Briar Patch?  I told you that I felt you were upstaging me?”

Alex nodded.

“Well, consider this your payback,” Lola said casually, slid on her sunglasses, and walked down the hall of the detention center.

---

Nathan went to his room upstairs to get ready for bed.  He was tired and needed a hot shower and a good night’s sleep.  He had a lot to do tomorrow.

He switched on the lamp beside his bed and heard the sound of a revolving gun chamber.  It brought back many memories.

Slowly, he turned around and his eyes narrowed uneasily on a face from the past.  It seemed like just yesterday he was in the same situation.

“The infamous Nathan Blackthorne returns,” the woman said.

“Debralee Scott,” Nathan said with a sickly-sweet smile.  “It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” she said, pointing the barrel of the gun directly at him.  “I’ve been waiting for a long time to get you back here.”

Nathan crossed the room and peered outside at the eerie black night.  “I guess this means your warm, fuzzy statement to the press was just an attempt to get me where you wanted me.”  He waited for her to react.  “Am I right?”

“You’re smart as ever,” she said, her hand trembling.  “I wanted you to come back so you could face me and look me in the eyes and see what you did to me.”

“It seems what I did to you was give you fodder for your very own best seller,” Nathan mused, full of self-righteousness.  “I think I deserve thanks.  Not a gun pointed at me.”

“You ruined my life,” she said, her voice wavering as she spoke.  She was wrapped in a generous fur, her hair styled perfectly, and diamond earrings hanging from petite ears.   “Do you have any idea what my life has been like?”

Nathan shrugged.  “You seem to be exceptionally put together.  What am I missing?”

“What you’re missing is the torture I went through after you got me pregnant.  My parents taking me to a doctor and making me have an abortion.  You’re missing the fact that now I’m barren and childless, or that I have never been able to have a real relationship with a man.  You’re missing me lying awake at night reliving every detail of your sickening body and your cold, watery eyes.  The feel of your disgustingly soft hands on my breasts.  The way I became a laughingstock at that trial instead of becoming an actress.   You’re also missing the ten years I spent in and out of rehab, therapy, and two suicide attempts.”  A beat while she took a deep breath.  “Now you tell me how put together you think I am.”

She didn’t give Nathan a chance to respond.  He took a step forward, reached out his hand, and watched as she raised the gun and shot herself in the head.

---

Next time….

Miranda meets a mysterious woman from her father’s past.  Heather comes to terms with a recent tragedy.  Stormy continues seeing Samantha.