She had asked her attorney what he wanted her to do about the case, and he told her to just forget it. He would handle everything, and he was sure that after the initial public blast, the gentleman in question was going to be anxious to settle. He was sure that that had been his intent anyway, and warned her that settlements in harassment suits these days were easily up in the millions.
“Great. What would you like me to do? Why don't I just give him the house in Malibu? Ask him how he feels about the sun, or maybe he'd rather have the house in Bel Air, but it's a little smaller.” It was impossible not to be cynical, harder still not to be angry, or to feel abused, or betrayed, by people who were willing to hurt you or use you, although they never even knew you. In some ways, the attacks on her were so obvious and so impersonal that they had the same quality as a drive-by shooting.
It was nine o'clock by then, and her secretary had arrived, a high-strung girl named Jean who had worked for the president of a record company previously, and had worked for Tanya for more than a year. She was efficient and trustworthy, but Tanya didn't like the fact that the girl always seemed to increase the feeling of urgency around her, rather than diminish it for her. And she did just exactly that that morning. Within the first hour she was there, there were three calls from New York, two from entertainment magazines, wanting interviews, and one from the show she was going to be on. The lawyer called her back two more times, and her agent called to press her into a decision about her next concert tour. She hadn't committed herself yet, and they had to know immediately because it would be impossible to include Japan otherwise, and the agent she used in Britain called wanting to know about a contract. They got word of another tabloid story coming out, and they called about a technical problem as well in her current record. She was doing a benefit the next night, had to get to the recording studio by noon, and had rehearsals that night for the benefit. And her film agent called, wanting to talk to her about another movie.
“God, what is today? A full moon, or is everyone in this town just going crazy?” Tanya brushed the long blond hair out of her eyes with one hand, while Jean handed her a cup of coffee, and reminded her that she had to give an answer about the tour before four-thirty. “I don't have to do anything, goddammit, and if they don't include Japan, then too bad. I'm not going to be pressured into making a decision before I'm ready.” She was scowling when she said it, which was uncharacteristic of her. Tanya had always had an easygoing disposition, but there was enough pressure on her to make a volcano erupt, and she was only human, and could only take so much.
“What about the interview with View?” Jean asked relentlessly. “They really need an answer from you this morning.”
“Why didn't they call my PR people?” Tanya asked, feeling increasingly stressed with every passing moment. “They're not supposed to be calling me directly. And why aren't you telling them that?”
“I tried, but they didn't want to hear it. You know how it is, Tanya, the minute they get your number, everyone wants to talk to you directly.”
“Yeah, and so do I.” It was Tony. He was back from playing golf, and he was standing in the doorway of her office, looking anything but happy. “Can I talk to you for a minute, Tan?”
“Sure,” she said, looking up at him, feeling suddenly nervous. She had to be at the studio in half an hour, but she didn't want to put him off. He didn't look as though he'd be willing to wait another minute. Whatever was bothering him seemed urgent.
Jean left them alone, and Tanya waited for him to sit down. He looked as though he had something major to say to her, and she wasn't sure she was ready to hear it. “Is something wrong?” she asked in an anxious whisper.
“Not really,” he sighed, and looked away from her out the window. “No more than usual. And I don't want you to get me wrong.” He turned and looked at her, but she could see in his eyes how angry he still was, how betrayed he felt, not just by her, or the story the bodyguard had told, but by the fact that their life required that kind of abuse, and there was never any way to escape the torture. As celebrities, they had no right to privacy, or even honesty, and every invented tale about her, every story made up by anyone, enjoyed the protection of the First Amendment. “I'm not angry about the thing in the paper today,” he lied to himself more than to her, but he liked to believe he was fair to her, even when he wasn't, “it's not much worse than anything else they've said about us. I have a lot of respect for you, Tan. I don't know how you take all the shit you do,” and they both knew there was plenty of it. The previous Christmas, they'd had to have bodyguards for all his kids, because there'd been a very serious death threat on all of them, particularly Tanya, and his ex-wife had a fit over it. “I think you're an amazing woman.” But she didn't like the way he looked at her when he said it. It was all in his eyes and she had seen it coming for a year. He was sick of it, and he could still walk away from it. The difference was, she couldn't. Even if she decided to retire that afternoon, it would go on for a long, long time, maybe forever, and she knew it.
“What are you saying to me?” She tried not to sound cynical, but it was hard not to. She'd been there before, in various ways, with different people. She told herself she was ready for it, but in her heart of hearts, she knew she wasn't. You never were, you always hoped that this time it would be different, that he would be strong enough, that he would really care, that it would be worth it to him to stick by her and help her. It was all she'd ever wanted, maybe even more than children, just a solid, real relationship with a man who would stick around when the shit hit the fan, because it would. She had told Tony that at the beginning. And he'd been good about it, for nearly three years now, but lately he was getting testy. Too much so. “Are you telling me I'm too good for you, that I deserve better than you have to give? One of those noble little speeches that makes me feel that I'm rising to greatness while you run out the door?” She looked him in the eye, and spoke clearly. There was no point hiding from what was coming. And she knew it was now.
“That's a lousy thing to say. I've never run out on you.” He looked hurt and she felt sorry. Maybe she was premature in her accusations.
“No, but you're thinking about it, aren't you?” Tanya asked softly.
He sat looking at her for a long, time, neither confirming nor denying what she had asked him. “I don't even know what I'm saying to you. I'm just telling you I'm getting tired. This is a hard life you live, harder than anyone ever knows until they get here.”
“I warned you of that,” she said, feeling like a climber on Everest halfway through the climb, as her companions began to fail her. “I told you what it was like. It's a tough life here, Tony. There are wonderful things about it, and I love my work, but I hate what all the other stuff does to me… and to you… and to us… and the kids… I know how hard it is. But the bitch of it is, I can't do anything to stop it, and you know that.”