Stardust (The Starlight Trilogy #3) Page 6

  Connie scowled. “You know, I never said anything before because you’re my friend and I didn’t want to be rude, but your relationship with Aidan was never healthy.”

  Beth’s anger rose up over her anguish. “Excuse me?”

  “Your dynamic with him is what got you into this mess in the first place. You always put his needs before your own instead of considering what’s best for you as well, and he did the same. You were both self-sacrificing to a fault and depended on each other way too much.”

  Beth scrambled to the opposite side of the bed, as far away from Connie as possible without ending up on the floor. “You have some nerve to tell me our relationship was no good! Aidan made me a better person. As for depending on someone, that’s called true love. I’m sorry you have the misfortunate of lacking a relationship as strong as ours.” She thrust her finger toward the door. “Leave. You’re not welcome here.”

  “No. Not until you hear me out.”

  Beth scoffed. “You’ve said quite enough already, thank you very much.”

  Connie crossed her arms over her chest. “You and Aidan existed in a bubble for so long, where the sun rose and set solely for the two of you. Did you ever consider you weren’t the only people affected by what occurred in Luther Mertz’s office?”

  Beth frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Connie’s mouth dropped open. “What do I mean? How about Olivia, for starters! She lost Nathan just like you lost Aidan. He hasn’t returned home. He hasn’t contacted her, nor can she reach him. Now you’ve abandoned her, too, to mope around here like everyone else ceases to exist.”

  Connie shook her head. “You think your pain is the only pain that matters and no one else can relate or come close to feeling as bad as you do. Well, you’re wrong. I’m upset, too, you know. Yet I’ve still made it a priority to check in on Olivia. Why can’t you make the same effort? She’s always been there for you. And this is how you show your gratitude?”

  Beth clutched the covers. “I didn’t mean to abandon her. Being here just feels right. I don’t know how else to deal with everything that happened.”

  “You fight! And I don’t mean in the physical sense. I mean mentally and emotionally collecting yourself enough to move forward and take back control of your life.” A tear rolled down Connie’s cheek. “I went through hell during my first year in L.A. and bottled up my feelings for a long time, trying to forget what happened to me. When Aidan went after Luther, something inside me snapped. I dreamed about revenge for years, but confronting him didn’t cure me like I hoped it would. And I guarantee Aidan came to the same conclusion. I don’t know why he’s so disturbed, but it’s obvious his contention with Luther is not the culprit. It’s simply an outlet for his pain.”

  Beth bowed her head. She’d never forget Connie’s attack on Mr. Mertz—the torment on her face, her tragic, desperate attempt to hurt him like he’d hurt her. Perhaps if she had put as much effort into learning about her friends as she did with Aidan, she would’ve noticed that Connie was troubled—Nathan, too. While she made it her mission to help Aidan find peace, her friends deserved the same consideration. She’d failed them.

  Beth scooted back across the bed and finally took a good look at Connie, past the perfect teeth, perfect complexion, perfect figure. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair hung in unkempt curls with dark roots. For the first time, she didn’t wear makeup. Connie was a natural beauty, yes, but so sad. Why hadn’t she seen it before?

  “What exactly happened with Mr. Mertz?”

  The passion that encouraged Connie to stand her ground moments ago drained from her eyes. “When I arrived in Hollywood, I was a naïve, seventeen-year-old named Mildred Johnson. Luther was like the Wizard of Oz to me. He had the ability to grant me anything and everything I wanted because—as he insisted—I had ‘star quality’. He put me through the studio’s beautification process, legally changed my name to Constance Murphy, and arranged a meeting for me with a famous director—” She closed her eyes on a shudder.

  Beth grasped Connie’s hand, granting the support she should’ve provided long ago.

  Connie exhaled deeply and opened her eyes. “I lost my virginity to that director in a bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. He was much older than me and married with two children. I didn’t like him, let alone love him. In fact, there was no romance at all, just pain and tears. But I agreed to have sex with him because he promised he’d give me the lead in his next film if I did. Afterward, he told his driver to take me home and I never heard from him again. I’ve seen him around the studio and at social events, but I can’t look him in the eye. It’s too upsetting. I’m too ashamed.”

  Beth’s heart shattered. Aidan had been so sweet and gentle when they made love. She couldn’t image sharing intimacy with someone she didn’t care about, or someone who didn’t care about her.

  “But you were young, Connie. It’s not your fault.”

  Connie glared at her. “That’s not an excuse. My parents raised me to respect my mind and my body. I never should’ve allowed my acting ambitions to negatively influence my behavior. But I was so desperate to make it in Hollywood. My parents…they weren’t thrilled with my career choice, but they didn’t forbid me from becoming an actress. Instead, we came to a compromise. If I didn’t get signed to Starlight Studios within a year and have a promising future in the film industry, then I had to return to New Jersey. I sacrificed everything about myself I was proud of in order to get to where I am today, all because I didn’t want to go back home a failure. My parents would’ve welcomed me with open arms, regardless. But still. I wanted to show them I could make it on my own, you know?”

  Tears trickled down Connie’s face. She wiped them away with the sleeve of her blouse. “Needless to say, after that night with the director, I was invited to many business meetings, all arranged by Luther. I was passed around like some prostitute, constantly reminded that I wasn’t a talented actress, but if I shut up and did as I was told, then one day I’d become a big star. So I went along with it.

  “Finally, I received top billing in Closure, the role that launched my career, and they left me alone—moving on to the next new girl on the lot, I’m sure. But I didn’t care at that point. I’d made it, and all I wanted to do was forget everything bad I’d done to earn my success. My rationale was that I couldn’t change what happened, but I could make sure no one took advantage of me again.

  “Then I met Matthew.” Her lips lifted a little. “We fell in love and all of my former indiscretions became nothing but distant memories—until I saw Aidan attack Luther. I thought after Matthew learned the truth, he’d call off our engagement, but he didn’t. He’s sticking by me and even assisting me in arranging another wedding, now that our June one is canceled on account of Luther’s involvement. He tells me he loves me unconditionally and understands why I withheld everything from him. He also wants to help me address my past and move on in the right away.”

  Beth squeezed her hand. “I’m truly glad you two are still a couple.”

  “That doesn’t mean I click my heels together and everything is perfect. In films, love conquers all and the good guys win. Real life isn’t so black and white. It’ll take a lot of hard work to deal with everything that happened to me. It’s daunting, and I’m scared to revisit it all, but I’m not giving up. And that’s my advice to you, Beth. Although, it took me years to get to this point, I’m making positive changes nonetheless, and that’s the important thing.”

  Beth moved over to provide space for Connie to sit on the bed properly. “I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish with everyone besides Aidan. What I’m going through pales in comparison to your journey. It was insensitive of me to treat you poorly when you showed up here. Thanks for not giving up on me. You’re a great woman and a great friend.”

  Connie kicked off her shoes and settled her back against the headboard, stretching her legs in front of her. “Do you know why I was cold toward Aidan right from the beginning?”

  Beth
considered the question for a moment. “I always assumed it was because of the whole studio-trained actors versus Method-trained actors rivalry in the film industry.”

  Connie shook her head. “It’s because Aidan secured a prestigious leading role in Hollywood in an honest way whereas they convinced me I had to sleep my way to the top. I was jealous that it was so easy for him to stand his ground, make demands, and get everything he wanted.”

  She frowned. “Beth, I know Nathan arrived and drove you home before anything happened between you and Luther. However, when I heard the news, I felt ill. Maybe if I’d spoken up early on, I could’ve stopped him from going after you—and other actresses, too. I will always regret putting myself first.”

  Beth patted her shoulder. “You’re not alone. I felt uncomfortable when Mr. Mertz touched my knee during a meeting that happened weeks ago, but I didn’t say anything to anyone. Imagine how many other women have done the same.”

  “There was a time when I wanted to go to the police, but I never went through with it.” Connie’s expression crumbled with the arrival of more tears. “What was I supposed to tell them? Sure, what Luther and his cronies did was immoral, and using bribery to obtain my consent was despicable, but I had, in fact, consented. There were no grounds for charges to be laid.”

  “Oh, Connie.” Beth pulled her in for a hug.

  Connie cried into her ear. “I’m so sorry. My comments about your relationship with Aidan weren’t meant to be hurtful. I came here today to help you, and to see you so distraught because he’s gone…it breaks my heart. Aidan may enrich your life, but without him, you’re still worthy. If it’s meant to be, you’ll reconnect. In the meantime, you shouldn’t lock yourself in his house and fade away.”

  Beth sniffled. “You’re right, but how can I move forward? Golden Gloves is terminated. My film career is over.”

  Connie grasped her hands. “Listen to me. My career isn’t finished, your career isn’t finished, and neither is Olivia’s. We’re strong women, and we don’t need to depend on Starlight Studios anymore.”

  Beth tossed her a dubious look. “Even Aidan, who wasn’t signed under contract, was forced to make films at the studio. That’s where the money comes from. It’s impossible to green light a project without Mr. Mertz’s involvement and approval.”

  Enthusiasm sprung to Connie’s eyes again. “I know it’s a long shot, but I have the courage to try to assert my independence now. It can start with you, Olivia, and me. Things may not change overnight, but if we rally—”

  “Putting the broken pieces of my personal life back together is hard enough, Connie. I don’t know if I can salvage my career, too, and be independent in the industry.” Beth retracted her hands. “You know how it is in this town. The three of us—three women, no less—cannot change a studio system that’s been in place for decades.”

  “If you’re not going to act anymore, what will you do?”

  Beth shrugged. “Before signing my studio contract, I wanted to be a teacher. Maybe I’ll go back to school. I have more than enough money saved to tide me over until I graduate and find a job.”

  “And what about your fans?”

  “They won’t miss me. I’ve barely been at the studio a year. Another actress will catch their fancy, and they’ll forget all about me. That’s how this business works, isn’t it? I’m sure Mr. Mertz is plotting my replacement as we speak.”

  Connie pursed her lips. “Do me a favor and don’t give up on acting just yet. Allow yourself some time to digest everything that’s happened and we’ll revisit this later. You may see things differently.”

  Beth nodded. “In the meantime, you’re right. I need to return home to Olivia.”

  Connie’s face brightened. “She’ll be glad to see you.”

  Beth’s heart pounded as she looked around Aidan’s room. She was afraid to leave, but her priority was to not abandon her friends, especially when they needed her most.

  “What time is it?”

  Connie checked her wristwatch. “Almost three o’clock.” She smiled. “And that’s afternoon, not morning.”

  Beth couldn’t help but smile, too. “Do you mind if we stay a little longer? I promise we’ll be gone before dinner.”

  “Sure. I don’t mind.”

  Beth and Connie lay down on the bed, facing each other and sharing a pillow. They linked hands and closed their eyes.

  “Connie, please tell me all about Mildred Johnson and growing up in New Jersey.”

  For the first time in days, Beth heard laughter—carefree, glorious laughter.

  “Well, I was raised in Westfield. It’s a middle class town about a half an hour drive from Newark and an hour from Manhattan. I’m the eldest of two children. My sister, Eleanor—she’s two years younger than me and so smart. She’s studying economics at the University of Pennsylvania. Isn’t that amazing? I was always horrible in math. I’m so proud of her. My mother, Alice, is a homemaker. She has a great sense of humor and plays tennis everyday. It’s her favorite pastime, but she isn’t exactly an Olympic contender.” Another laugh. “Then there’s my father…”

  Beth smiled and giggled as she listened to Connie’s childhood stories with an appreciation she’d lacked for a while regarding her own upbringing, her own origins.

  By the time they left Aidan’s house later that evening, the next road on her journey was paved. It was time for a trip back to Clarkson.

  Chapter Nine

  Aidan never set out for Chicago. He just kind of ended up here. Initially, his plan was to head straight to New York. He still had his Upper West Side apartment, and the whole point was to get as far away from California as possible. His Midwestern detour wasn’t a surprise, though. His father was one of the main reasons behind his failure to lead a normal life. A face-to-face confrontation was inevitable someday.

  Aidan parked in front of his father’s house in the posh suburb of Wilmette just after midnight. The two-story brick residence looked exactly as it did when he left over five years ago, aside from the addition of a white picket fence in the front yard. A familiar Oldsmobile was parked in the driveway, confirming his father still resided at this address. On the outside, it seemed like an ideal place to raise a family. Inside? Well, that was another story.

  Aidan trembled as he emerged from his Porsche and shut the door. He could stand up against anyone except the man with whom he was supposed to feel most comfortable. Before he went any further, he needed to relax. Confidence was vital to his success.

  He placed his keys in the pocket of Spike Rollins’ red windbreaker and lit a cigarette. On a roadside stop somewhere in Nevada, he had cleaned the blood from his hands and face and bought a white T-shirt to replace his soiled one. He’d also purchased several packages of Winstons. With Golden Gloves terminated and Beth no longer in his life, there was no motivation to stay healthy anymore.

  Aidan strolled down the driveway and stopped at the side of the road to take a drag. It had rained recently and looked as though it would again soon. A dense fog hovered in the air, mixing with the smoke billowing from his cigarette. How long had it been since he left L.A.? Four days? A week? He couldn’t be certain. Exhaustion clouded his mind. Time held no meaning. Missing Beth was the only thing that reminded him he was still alive. No dead man could hurt this intensely…feel this debilitated, this hopeless.

  Grief, sorrow, and guilt—the combination created a fatal foe. For years, they lurked inside him, feeding his anger, his fear, his unpredictability, waiting for the opportunity to consume his soul and show him he was never in control—prove to him that even when he kept his nightmares and daytime visions at bay, he was the puppet, not the master. All the progress he’d made in the last few months was nothing but an illusion. He was no stronger than the ten-year-old boy who had wept over his dying mother and did nothing to save her.

  Aidan had lost crucial memories of his mother over the years—the sound of her laughter, the flowery freshness of her scent, the radiance of her smile. Sur
e, he remembered pieces here and there, but the fine details eluded him. But it wasn’t like he was worthy to remember her anyway. All that was good in him had vanished when he left Beth, the only woman who had ever penetrated his battered armor. The only woman he’d ever made love to. The only woman he’d ever loved and would ever love in the romantic sense.

  He would lose Beth’s memory, too. Not the impact she had on his life, nor the depth of his feelings for her. But over time, the little things—her laughter, her scent, her smile—would fade, regardless of how hard he fought to keep them.

  Aidan bent over and braced his forearms on his thighs as nausea seized his stomach, his head, his heart. He retched and retched but emptied nothing. The grief, the sadness, the guilt—they couldn’t be purged, no matter how violent his cries, how desperate his pleas, how steadfast his resolve.

  He expelled a rough scream toward the heavens, taunting the lightning that blasted from the sky to strike him down, open up the ground he stood upon, and let him plummet straight to Hell. He was the worst kind of man. No, not a man. A monster.

  He had ripped all the feathers off his fragile little dove.

  “Beth, I’m sorry. I love you so much, and I’m so fucking sorry.” His cigarette tumbled to the asphalt. He gripped his hair with both hands and keeled over again, this time releasing a strangled sob into the night.

  On the evening Aidan had left Chicago for New York, he had only his meager savings of his allowance and no concrete plans aside from establishing his independence from his father. After his acceptance into the Actors Studio and his critical success on Broadway, he’d often thought, Man, if only my pop could see me now. I’d show him!

  With a curse, Aidan stomped on his cigarette, dimming the ashes against the damp pavement. Back then, why did he have the need to show off his accomplishments and prove his father wrong? Most disturbingly, did his visit here tonight—after he’d sworn he would never return—indicate he still, somewhere deep down, desired his father’s approval?