Kate immediately glanced at the doorway and turned bright pink.

Dasher quickly said, "Mom, Kate and I are just friends. We ran into each other and I-"

"Just happened to want to introduce her to your shut-in mother, who you've never introduced to anyone before. I see." She was nodding at Lupe, who smiled wanly and still refused to look at Dash.

"Well, ah, I guess Kate should be going. I'll be right back, Mother." After all these years, her mother would pick today to get playful.

"But dear, you haven't heard the good news." Her mother seemed amused.

Glad to change the subject, Dasher said, "So, what is it?" It was unusual for her mother to have good news of any kind, let alone good news in a hospital.

"Well, I talked to the doctors." Dasher started to say something to Lupe, who was studying her lap, but her mother continued. "Now, don't be mad at Lupe. I asked her not to bother you."

"Well, I guess I wasn't needed, then. Clean bill of health, Mother?"

"Oh, no, my dear. I have cancer. I'm dying."

After that, Dasher only registered Kate taking her hand and Lupe crying. That and the fleeting thought that her mother's wish had finally been granted.

Kate asked, "Where do I turn?"

They were on the Pacific Coast Highway, almost to Malibu. Dasher remembered Kate taking her keys and maneuvering her to the pa.s.senger side of the Cayenne. Then she informed her that she would drive her home so she could shower and change. Here they were.

"You didn't have to do this. What if someone sees you?" Dasher didn't mean the question sarcastically and hoped Kate understood that.

"So what? Joe's always complaining I don't get enough free publicity. Since I insist on wearing at least a thong and have never thrown a punch at anyone, this will have to do."

"Oh." Dash chose to drop the subject. What did she expect? For Kate to say that her friendship with Dasher was more important than her career? The fact that Kate cared enough to stay with her would have to do.

Kate's phone warbled. "Dasher, that's Laurel's ring. Would you answer? I don't know your car well enough to rummage through my purse for it. Don't want to end up in the ocean."

Seeing that Kate was only half joking, Dasher hurriedly pawed through a bunch of Kate's purse c.r.a.p and found the phone. "Hi, Laurel. No, it's Dasher. Yes, this is Kate's phone. I'll let her explain." She smiled as she listened to Laurel sputter her surprise.

Kate held out her hand for the phone, eyes on the road, and hit the speaker b.u.t.ton on the cell. "Hey, sis. What's up?"

"I think you might have found our new property up the coast, Kate."

"Really? Diana Tartaglia's property?" She shot a smile to Dasher, but try as she might, she couldn't return it. She could only replay the hospital scene and her mother's grand announcement.

"Didn't any others qualify?"

"Well, not all the results are in yet, but hers is practically turn-key, with lots of room to grow. She's offered it to the group for the weekend so we can check it out. We can't go up until after the opening, but we're excited."

"That's good news, then."

"Kate? Why's Dasher answering your phone? I don't mean to pry, but-"

"Okay, I'll talk to you later." She ended the call.

Dasher commented, "You aren't surprised she asked, are you?"

"No. I just didn't think now was a good time to get into it. Dash-she will ask again. What do you want me to say? You don't know Laurel, but she would never divulge any information. I've confided a million things and it stops there. Except, now that she's with Stef, I couldn't ask her to keep it from her. So, whatever you want, I'll do."

Dasher kept her eyes on the pa.s.sing scenery. "I don't know Laurel, but I know Stef and I know you. You can tell her everything, but please ask them to keep it to themselves. Especially about...the last part."

Kate seemed pleased that Dasher trusted her with such personal information, but it appeared to make her anxious. She probably worried that Dasher might expect reciprocation because she abruptly changed the subject.

"Do you live right on the beach?"

"Well, technically I rent a tiny bungalow on the beach. So I guess the answer is yes."

"Good, let's take a stroll. I think we could both use some air."

Directed to a narrow driveway with broken cement and half-dead gra.s.s growing between the cracks, Kate drove past several homes and onto the sand-and-gravel drive that Dasher indicated.

Dasher took her keys from Kate and found the one for the house. She opened the screen door and keyed the lock, letting them in to a small tiled entryway with a tiny closet to the side. "Leave your shoes here. I have sandals you can wear. I'm going barefoot." From the door there was a good view through the back slider of the ocean beyond.

It didn't take long to walk through the cottage that Dasher always kept tidy. Kate glanced around, but if she was looking for photos, there weren't any except in the bedroom.

When they reached the back deck Dasher opened the sliding door. "Take your pick." She pointed to an array of sandals and flip-flops.

"Barefoot sounds perfect," Kate said.

As exhilarating as the morning and beach were, Kate seemed more interested in watching Dasher.

She held out her hand. "Come on, sun's a-wasting."

The sound of the waves on the beach and the sight of California brown pelicans and white gulls swooping to catch a hapless fish or nab a sand crab for lunch soothed Dasher. Sandpipers used their beaks to drill for tiny treasures the waves washed up on sh.o.r.e, and their mad dashes here and there were comical to watch.

Southern California beaches were warm and sunny, the waves not as formidable as the ones up the coast. The air was clear and the breeze just right. The air in Malibu was quite different from the smog so often a.s.sociated with Los Angeles proper.

There weren't many people in sight yet, and those she saw seemed intent on their own activities. The wet sand with the occasional tail end of a wave washing over their feet felt healing.

Kate linked her arm in Dasher's and they walked for a long time.

Finally, Dasher said, "She wants to die, you know. Has for years."

Probably trying to think of an appropriate plat.i.tude, Kate scowled into the sand for a moment, then sighed. "She did seem at peace about it."

Dasher scuffed her foot across a piece of seaweed bladder, and a small swarm of black insects flew away. "Yeah. And she insisted that you hear it, too. Why would she do that?"

"I'm not sure, but I think she wanted someone there for you. She sensed that we're friends. She knows I...care about you."

Dasher stopped, the breeze picking up her short hair and tossing it around. She gazed into Kate's eyes and for once Kate didn't look away.

"You care about me. You are my friend." As much as Dasher wanted it to be different between them, this was the truth of it, and she needed to accept that truth.

"Yes. It might sound trite to you, but I don't have many friends. I'd be honored if you would be mine." Her voice faltered for a moment, as if she was afraid she'd said too much.

Dasher's eyes dropped to Kate's lips and she was desperate for one more kiss. At that moment she didn't care if People magazine was shooting right beside them. But this was Kate, and if there could ever be more between them, it had to be Kate who came to her. If not, Dasher had to accept it or remove herself from Kate's life.

"Okay, friends it is. Thank you for being here, Kate. Thank you for being my friend." Dasher hoped she was convincing, but she knew she was a lousy liar.

Kate's expression seemed somewhere between relief and disappointment.

When Kate walked in the door to her house the phone was ringing and she knew that Laurel was on the other end of the line. Feeling out of sorts, she snapped it to her ear. She was buzzing with so many emotions she couldn't name that Laurel was bound to pick up something. She wasn't ready for this conversation. "Hey, sis, what's up?"

"Nothing compared to what's up in Los Angeles, evidently. Let's hear it."

With a spontaneous, dramatic sigh Kate opened her heart to Laurel. Fifteen minutes later Laurel was still quiet. "Wow. That has to be pretty hard on Dasher. I'm glad you were there for her, hon. I'm proud of you."

Kate couldn't remember Laurel telling her she was proud of her for anything other than career-related things. Her words meant a lot. Maybe someday she'd have the courage to tell Laurel how much she craved her approval. Sadly, she realized that accepting compliments was easy for her. Giving them was another matter.

Laurel must have sensed Kate's discomfort, because suddenly they were talking about something else. "Hey, Jason Beresford is going to be in LA next week. He's too shy to ask, but he wondered if you wanted to go out to dinner or something. That was a quote. After you fairly dripped s.e.xy all over him at the photo shoot, he's been a big fan."

"Oh, okay. Let me think. You know, I have to attend a directors' dinner next Tuesday. If he wouldn't mind, it would save me having to dredge up an escort. At least he's nice and might have something to talk about other than himself. He'd need a tux."

Laughing, Laurel said, "He'll probably be gawking if a lot of celebrities are there. Hope you don't mind. He's a doll, the opposite of our own dear brother. And I'm sure he can dig up a tux."

"Sold. Give him my cell number, okay? Listen, I have to go. I have a meeting with Joe Alder in two hours and I'm a mess. Love you."

Chapter Eleven.

Kate sat across from Joe and watched as he chewed his disgusting cigar and yapped on the phone. As much money as she made for him, how dare he treat her this way? She stood and folded her arms, glaring at him. He finally acknowledged her as if just noticing she was in the room.

"I gotta go. Call you later." After he flipped the phone onto his desk, he picked up a stack of what looked like ma.n.u.scripts and tossed them across the desk. "Here, pick one and it's yours." He'd tried to give her disks in the past, but she insisted on a written script. She could get a better feel for the vehicle that way.

She sat and quickly thumbed through them. "Do any of them involve more than blowing things up and me half-naked?"

"Look, cupcake, you make us both a load of money doing those exploding naked things. What's to complain about? You can do the other s.h.i.t once your t.i.ts head south. Now's the time to rake in the money." He looked quite satisfied with himself.

"Joe, I get your point, but there's no reason I can't establish myself as a serious actor before I'm playing someone's mother, and you know it." The way actors were referred to by their anatomy had always made her teeth hurt. She was, however, smart enough to know that her body played a part in her marketability. But she had established a name, and now she could try other roles.

His eyes narrowed. "You listening to that d.y.k.e b.i.t.c.h again?"

Her surprise must have been evident because he cackled. "Yeah, I know you've been seeing her. You think I'm stupid and can't figure out when someone's trying to poach? Listen, the only thing that woman wants is the commissions you'll bring in. Her clients don't make half what you do. Stay away from her."

"Some make less because their films are critical successes involving real acting. She has others that make more than me, according to Variety. And I haven't been seeing her, Joe. We happen to belong to the same charity and have worked on a committee together."

He rolled his eyes. "So that's why you two were snarfing down lattes when she was bailing that nut-job of a mother of hers out of the hospital-again. On the same committee."

The heat in her face was a blaze when she growled, "I saw her when I was leaving my physical therapy appointment for my knee, which happens to be located across from the hospital. Not that it's any of your business."

"Anything you do is my business." He started picking G.o.d-knows-what out of his fingernails and glared at her. "Just stay away, because if any rumors about you being a lezzie are going to hit the tabloids, I'm going to be in charge of them. And the bimbo will be a lot more famous than Dasher Pate."

Kate wanted out of there and stood abruptly. "You're disgusting."

He slammed his fist on the desk. "Don't think you can jump ship on our contract. I've got you signed up tighter than a drum until those gorgeous knockers of yours are sitting in your lap. Until I say so. Now read those scripts and pick one, dear."

Making a show out of checking his watch, he said, "If you'll excuse me, I have a lunch date with a really cooperative blonde who could replace you in a heartbeat."

Fuming, Kate picked up the stack, tempted to throw it at him. "Yeah, in a heartbeat. After only a few more rounds of surgery and a brain transplant. I still want a decent script."

He spat, "Sweetheart, the only way you'll get one of those is to write it yourself. And that would require some thinking and creativity on your part, now, wouldn't it? You've always been able to just show up and prance around. What makes you think you can do more?"

He was laughing as she stormed out of his office.

Kate drove by the hospital without a real purpose. Spotting someone backing out of a parking spot, she pulled in, still without a plan. It wasn't until the automatic doors were opening that she was able to admit to herself that she was looking for Dasher.

Mrs. Pate's room was darker than usual, and Kate knocked lightly on the door, almost turning away because she didn't want to agitate the woman.

"Come in." It was certainly not Dasher's alto, but a higher version of the same voice.

Sticking her head in, Kate said, "Hi, Mrs. Pate. I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd see if Dasher was here." What a dumb idea. Dasher took the night shift.

"h.e.l.lo, Kate. Please come in. Lupe is just leaving to go get us some lunch. Would you like for her to get some for you, too?" She seemed rather cheerful, given the circ.u.mstances.

Lupe got up, smiled at her, and gathered her purse. "You stay here until I come back, okay?"

Feeling a bit trapped, Kate nodded, wondering what in h.e.l.l she'd talk about. Mrs. Pate's impending death?

As Lupe hustled out the door, she said, "I bring back lots of chalupas."

Mimi Pate smiled at the closing door and said, "Oh dear, she loves chalupas. If you've never had the real deal, not the fast-food kind, you're in for a treat."

"I don't think I've had any kind of them. I don't know what they are."

"Lupe introduced them to me. They're pretty good. I think of them like small tostadas. Come, sit down. You look frazzled."

Somewhat surprised by the invitation, Kate sat.

"And call me Mimi. I'm not really Mrs. Pate anymore. The best thing I got from Jerry was Dasher. But I'm glad for his success. He loves his work."

Staring, Kate finally said, "Mrs....Mimi, you are so-"