“Rebecca, sexy lingerie isn’t going to fix your marriage. You know that, right?”
She wrenched away from me. “How would you know how to fix a marriage? I don’t see you and Jack back together, do I?”
I held my breath, if only to prevent myself from saying the first thing that came to mind, and instead summoned the new Melanie. “You’re right. Jack and I still have our problems. And you might not want to listen to me. What I do know is that Jack and I love each other despite everything and that we both want things to work out so that we end up together. I also know that neither one of us would ever turn to someone outside our marriage for . . . comfort. That’s not what a couple dedicated to their marriage does.”
With jerky movements, she yanked a pink tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. “You don’t know anything. I love Marc. And I know he loves me. It’s just that”—she looked down at her belly—“he doesn’t find me attractive right now. That’s why I need a sexy-lingerie shower.”
Not wanting to kick her while she was down, I didn’t mention that the first time Marc had cheated on her, she hadn’t been pregnant. I looked around and saw a group of tourists slowing to watch the spectacle of a pregnant woman breaking down on the sidewalk, so I gently took hold of Rebecca’s arm. I led her along the street to Charleston Place and a secluded bench in the lobby near a window. I smelled coffee from the nearby coffee shop, Community Perk, and knew I couldn’t get through my conversation with Rebecca without sustenance.
“I’m going to go grab myself a coffee—can I get you a decaf?”
She nodded. “And a fruit cup.”
I headed toward the café, but she called me back. “No, change that to a pastry. And a candy bar.”
I returned with two of everything, because I didn’t want Rebecca to eat alone.
I waited for her to take her first bite of croissant before I spoke. “I hate to be blunt, but somebody needs to be. If Marc were committed to you and your marriage, he wouldn’t be cheating on you.”
Tears filled her eyes again. “But who can blame him? I’m as big as a whale!”
I recalled how many times Jack had told me I was beautiful when I was pregnant with the twins, and I felt my own eyes begin to moisten. “First of all, you’re hardly showing. Your ankles aren’t even swollen.”
She looked down at my legs and nodded. “Thank goodness for that. I remember how huge yours were. Like watermelons. I guess I should be thankful that’s not hereditary, too.”
“Thanks for remembering,” I said. “But my point is that no matter what you look like, that’s no reason for Marc to be cheating. You’re carrying his baby. That alone should make you the most beautiful woman in the world to him.” I paused, trying to find a way to soften my words, but I realized being blunt was the only way to get the point across. “Rebecca, if Marc truly loved you, he would find everything he needs with you and your baby.”
Instead of more tears, a grim determination settled across her delicate features. “He’s just confused. That’s all. And the stress of the filming is just about killing him. Half of his film crew has quit, and several of the producers are threatening to pull out because of the delays this has caused.” She glared at me. “Don’t think that I don’t know you and Jack are behind all of it. We had a contract, remember?”
“As I told Marc and as you know full well, I have no control over what goes on in that house. And besides a few electrical mishaps, I wasn’t aware of anything else.”
“Yeah, well, those ‘mishaps’ have caused some serious delays.” She chewed furiously on her second croissant, then took a gulp of her coffee. “Marc’s doing his best to keep quiet about it because he doesn’t want to upset Harvey, who is already halfway out the door. Katherine Heigl just pulled out because she’s on a tight schedule to start her next project and can’t have any overlap, which is pretty much guaranteed at this point because they’re so behind schedule. Rob Lowe is starting to make noise, too, which is giving all of the producers the jitters. Without those two big names, the whole production is at risk.”
“I can’t say I’m sorry. But I can say that I had nothing to do with any of that. Neither did Jack.”
Rebecca began unwrapping her Snickers bar, attacking the paper with sharp pink-painted fingernails. “And those hateful articles in the paper. I met Suzy Dorf yesterday for lunch. We had a nice chat.”
I kept my face neutral. Rebecca and Suzy had once worked at the paper together, so it made sense that they kept in touch. But it still made me nervous. “And what did she say?”
“She told me everything she’s written has been entirely her doing, without any coercion from you or Jack.” Rebecca pressed her lips together. “Not that I believe her, of course.” Her mouth turned up in a half smile. “We were considering suing her for libel, except all those negative comments about his book created a real boost in sales. Buxton Books had to order three more cases to keep up with demand.”
“How nice,” I said, and took a sip of coffee to wash down the sour taste in my mouth. “I can only promise you that I have not put words into Suzy’s mouth. We did a short interview about my family’s experience during the filming so far, but the rest is from her own research.”
“I could almost believe you, except . . .” She looked at me with wary, tearstained eyes. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. Marc would hate me even more.” She hiccupped.
I resisted the urge to tell her that if she thought her husband hated her, her marriage was in worse shape than she thought. “Look, Rebecca. We’re family, right?” I almost bit my tongue saying it, but I hoped it would be the one thing to make her listen. “I’m trying to help you. I’m simply suggesting that Marc . . . maybe isn’t the man you think he is. Or the husband he should be.”