Cause Célèbre: A Feel Good, Do Good Romance Read online

  Ophelia looked a little aghast. “Well, you don’t expect me to do it.”

  “Actually, I do,” Margot assured her. “I’d try the soda first. And if that doesn’t work, maybe the lemon.”

  “But I can’t,” Ophelia said, looking horrified. “I mean… I just can’t.”

  Margot felt a giant wave of irritation building inside her. “Why not?”

  “Well, I just don’t…” Ophelia stammered, shocked that anyone would ask such a thing. “I mean… Do you know who I am?”

  “Yes,” Margot assured her. “But there are some stains you just have to deal with yourself.” Dabbing at a gross stain for some spoiled movie star’s lady parts was definitely not on Margot’s bucket list.

  Ophelia didn’t move. She just kept staring, wide eyed, at Margot and then at the stain on the dress. “But I don’t even know how to begin,” she finally stammered.

  Margot didn’t believe her. “Oh, come on. I’m sure you’ve dealt with stains before.” Glancing around the room, she said, “Now, if you’ll just give me back my grandmother’s mantón… I am actually on a date and need to get back.”

  “You can’t leave me here alone,” Ophelia all but shrieked, clutching at her arm.

  It was then Margot spotted her grandmother’s shawl carelessly thrown on the floor next to the vanity chair. She disengaged herself from the movie star’s clutches and snatched it up, quickly checking it for stains or damage. “And here I was, feeling sorry for you,” she grumbled under her breath.

  “What was that?” Ophelia asked sharply.

  “I said thanks for taking such great care of my grandmother’s wrap. That was very considerate of you,” Margot said in a louder voice.

  “Oh, who cares about that stupid wrap? I’m trapped in a bathroom with blood on my dress. Do you know how many paparazzi would love to get a picture of this? And you won’t even help me.” Tears sprang into her eyes, and her voice carried a small tremor.

  Margot was pretty sure that if she happened to be lying unconscious in the middle of the street, Ophelia would complain about having to step over her to get to the curb. “Don’t you have an assistant or someone I can get?” she asked. “You know, someone who is actually paid to deal with this kind of thing?” She waived a hand at the gown in general.

  “No, that little bitch called in sick. Although I’m sure she’s faking. No one gets appendicitis anymore,” the actress grumbled.

  It was rude to leave Noah standing by himself for so long, but Margot figured he probably knew some of the other movie stars in the crowd. And there should be some solidarity amongst women, after all. Particularly for that kind of crisis. “Okay, fine. I can stay a few more minutes to walk you through it, but I’m not touching the dress. You’re doing all the work.”

  Ten minutes later the stain was faded, but still noticeably visible. “Don’t you have a manager or a stylist or someone you can call to bring you a new dress?” Margot asked.

  “People will notice,” the star insisted. “People will see that I’m in a different gown.”

  “So,” Margot shrugged. “Tell them you spilled red wine on it.”

  “I don’t drink red wine,” Ophelia snapped.

  “So tell them someone else spilled wine on you. An admiring fan got too excited or something like that. Make it funny. No one will care.”

  “You have no idea how this town works, do you?” the actress said, giving Margot a scathing look. “They’ll sniff the story out. They’ll make up one if they have too.”

  “Oh, come on. Aren’t you being a bit dramatic?”

  Ophelia drew herself up to her full height. “I am paid to be dramatic.” Her eyes drifted down to Margot’s hands. “Let me borrow that thing. That wrap thing of yours. It won’t look great, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “No,” was Margot’s reply, clutching the mantón slightly closer to her chest. “You’ve already shown that you don’t care about other people’s possessions.”

  “Oh, fine. I’ll just buy it from you, then,” the star groused.

  “You can’t buy it from me,” Margot informed her. “My grandmother embroidered it herself and brought it with her from Spain when she moved to America.”

  “My, my, I didn’t realize it was a family heirloom.” The star rolled her eyes, obviously not impressed by the fine needlework. “Just lend it to me, then. I promise I’ll take care of it.”

  Margot took a step backward. “I don’t believe you.”

  “You have my word,” the star insisted, extending a hand toward the shawl.

  “Forget it,” Margot said, taking another step toward the door.

  “Please?” Ophelia asked with a tone of desperation. “If you don’t help me, I don’t know what I’ll do.” Tears sprang into the star’s eyes. “I’ll be humiliated. It’ll be all over the papers.”

  Margot stared at her, trying to assess if the tears were real or if the actress was just using one of the tools of her craft to get her way.

  “Oh, just give me the damn thing,” Ophelia said, making a lunge for it.

  Dodging her, Margot said, “If you grab it and it tears, I am going to punch you in the face. So, good luck explaining why you are leaving the bathroom with a black eye.”

  With a huge sigh and looking toward heaven, Ophelia said, “What do you want from me? What can I do to persuade you that I’ll take care of your grandmother’s stupid shawl?”

  Giving it some quick consideration, Margot said, “I want something for collateral.”

  “What?” Ophelia looked confused.

  Not sure if the star just didn’t understand the word, Margot explained. “I want you to give me something to hold onto in exchange for lending you my mantón. Something valuable. Something that you’ll want back. I need a guarantee.”

  “Oh, you can trust me,” Ophelia assured her. “I’ll give you my assistant’s number. She’ll see you get the shawl back.”

  “Right,” Margot said with a laugh. “Just as soon as she gets out of the hospital. I’m afraid that’s not good enough.”

  “Well, what the hell do you want? I don’t even have a purse with me.”

  Margot looked her over. “You can give me one of your rings.”

  “What?” Ophelia let out a sharp laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. Do you have any idea how much even one of my smaller diamonds is worth? And that shawl is… just a shawl.”

  “That’s the point,” Margot told her. “I don’t want to have to spend weeks chasing down your assistant to try to get you to return my property. If I have something that’s more valuable, then I know you’ll come to me.”

  “And if I refuse?” the star asked, obviously not used to being given an ultimatum.

  “Then enjoy the rest of your party,” Margot said, making a move for the door.

  “Wait!” Ophelia snapped. “Just wait.” She slipped a diamond ring off one of her fingers and thrust it to Margot. “Be careful with that,” she instructed. “I’m sure it costs more than your car.”

  “Well, be very careful with my mantón,” Margot said, handing it over. “I’m sure it means more to me than any of your overpriced sparkly bits of rock.” Margot tried not to let her eyes pop when she glanced down at the ring. She didn’t know much about jewelry, but the diamond had to have been at least three carats. She slipped the ring on her finger, turning it sparkly side down. She didn’t want to inadvertently signal the space shuttle if the light caught it just right. “Let me give you my card,” Margot said, rifling through her clutch. She pulled out a pen and scrawled her address and phone number on the back of the paper.

  Margot hoped Ophelia might look at the card and ask her about her work or something, but the star just tucked it in the left cup of her bra. “Fine, you’ll have your stupid shawl back tomorrow. Just make sure you don’t lose my diamond.” As an afterthought, she added. “And don’t let anyone know we did this little exchange, or every mooch in this town will want me to lend them my jewelry for the tiniest favor.�
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  “I won’t,” Margot assured her. “But just so you know, if there is one stain or a snag or a rip or anything wrong with my mantón when you return it, I will run this piece of overpriced glass over an emery board,” she said, raising her hand in the air, the diamond flashing. “Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” Ophelia said crisply as she arranged the mantón so it draped off her arms casually but covered the stain. She checked her look in the mirror, lifted her chin, and said, “Okay, open the door. I’m ready now.”

  “You’re welcome,” Margot told her. “You’re so charming and gracious. You really don’t have to keep thanking me for going out of my way to help you.” Then she sailed out the door, letting it snap closed behind her. Ophelia could open her own damn door.

  Chapter 8

  Noah was still in the general area where she’d left him, sipping champagne and making light conversation with an extremely pretty redhead in an extremely low-cut silver-sequined gown. Margot froze, not sure if she should head over or make herself scarce.

  Just then, Ophelia Blain made her entrance, causing an increase in room chatter. Noah turned and saw her standing there. “Margot,” he called, holding out his hand to her. “Everything okay? I was beginning to get worried. I thought maybe you’d crawled out the bathroom window.”

  “Oh, um…” Margot felt herself blush at the thought of giving Noah the details of her ladies’ room adventure. “Just a little girl trouble, but everything’s all right now.”

  “Hey, isn’t that your scarf?” Noah said, squinting past her at the posing Ophelia.

  “Yeah, I lent it to her.”

  “You’ll never get it back,” Noah said, a cloud crossing his brow. “She should have never asked to borrow it. I’ll go tell her she has to hand it over.” He made a move toward the actress.

  “No, wait,” Margot said, grabbing his arm. “It’s just… There was… Oh, the hell with it.” She leaned forward and whispered a quick summary of what had just transpired behind closed doors.

  Afterward, Noah let out an awkward laugh. “Ophelia should buy your charity a new wing or something after that.”

  “Unlikely,” Margot told him. “She seemed to think I should have found it a privilege to help her out.”

  “I still don’t know how you’re going to get your scarf back.”

  “I have a plan,” she assured him, covertly twirling the diamond on her finger.

  “Okay, well let me introduce you to someone,” he said, turning back to where he had left the stunning redhead, but she had magically evaporated. Scanning the crowd, he shrugged and said, “Maybe later.” Taking her hand, he smiled at her and said, “Come on, let’s check out this party.”

  Edge was pretty crowded with lots of faces Margot recognized from various movies and television shows. She’d never been all that interested in remembering the names of actors. She knew the big ten, as far as super-famous celebrities, but couldn’t put a name to most of the faces she saw. Plenty of the crowd recognized Noah and were eager to talk to him. He was beyond gracious, always trying to include her in the conversation, bringing up her work as much as he could, but Margot recognized the glazed expression of almost everyone as they looked in her direction, just smiling and nodding because it was Noah doing the talking. A sweaty, older man with thinning hair and a shiny face asked for her card. Margot handed it over, but reluctantly. She had the feeling the guy was just calculating to pick up the pieces, scoring some rebound sex once Noah had chucked her aside.

  The main room was playing typical club music, just not as ear-shatteringly loud as most clubs. A few women were dancing but without much enthusiasm. Scenes from whatever movie Ophelia was starring in were projected on one wall. Giant images of her face kept appearing over and over again. It made Margot slightly nervous, like the actress could bend down and start biting heads off people in the crowd. It was amazing how just twenty minutes of conversation in the powder room with the star had turned her, in Margot’s eyes, from beautiful to grotesque.

  Some of the smaller rooms in the back were less crowded. A jazz trio was set up in the corner of what normally must have been the VIP lounge. Noah found them two seats at the bar. “I think it’s remarkable how willing you are to help people,” he said, once a young woman had left after asking him for his autograph. “I mean, a lot of people would have just thought, ‘Oh good, Ophelia Blain’s about to humiliate herself,’ and left it at that.”

  “Don’t think I’m too much of a saint. She was being such a jerk in the ladies’ room, I almost left her in there to figure it out on her own,” Margot assured him.

  “I don’t believe that,” Noah said, with a shake of his head.

  “No, she was really being a jerk. You can trust me on this one.”

  Noah laughed. “You know perfectly well what I mean. You wouldn’t have abandoned her if there was a way you could help. That’s not your style.”

  “And you know me so well already?”

  A big grin broke across Noah’s handsome face. “I’m beginning to.”

  Margot felt her own face coloring. “I hope you don’t think this is too lame, but can I ask you for a huge favor?”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “We’re doing a fundraiser on Friday, and I guess no one is buying tickets. I hate to take advantage of your fame, but is there any way you’d be willing to show up? At least for a little while. It think it would really help fill the seats.”

  “Maybe,” Noah said, giving her a mock suspicious look. “You’re not looking to raffle me off as one of the prizes in a silent auction or anything, are you?”

  “No!” Margot blurted, her face coloring. “I just thought… Oh, never mind. I’m sorry. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “I’m just teasing,” Noah assured her. “Of course, I’ll go.” He beamed at her. “If you think having a goofy, half-assed celebrity there will help, then I’m at your disposal.”

  “Thank you.” Margot felt a little warm glow inside. He really did have a knack for making people feel special. “You’d only have to stay a little while.”

  A few horns and guitars joined the trio, and suddenly there were the makings of a pretty good band. Rather than sticking with straight-up American jazz, the music got a little spicier as it headed south of the border. Margot turned her head to give the musicians a bit more of her attention. She had spent three months living in Quito, Ecuador, trying to help with a water filtration system. But while she was there she had taken a salsa dance lesson on any free day she could get, and it had left her with an appreciation for the music.

  “Do you know how to salsa?” Noah asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” she said. Then, turning to look at him, she had to wonder, “Why? Do you?”

  “Hell, yes,” Noah said, rising to his feet, taking her firmly by the hand, and tugging her off her stool. “I had to do some dancing in this cheesy indie flick once. Which you are not allowed to sneak out and rent,” he told her with a stern voice.

  Margot blinked at him slowly, like a cat being told to stay off the dining room table. “Try and stop me.”

  Noah gave her a faux perturbed look. “So, anyway, they got me a salsa instructor. I sucked at first, but now I really like to dance.”

  Margot glanced around the room. There was a small dance floor, but no one else was using it for dancing. “I don’t think we should…” she began.

  But then Noah spun her out, then pulled her in close, so close that their faces were only a kiss apart. “Yes, we definitely should.”

  As soon as they started dancing, people made a ring around the dance floor as if they were watching a show. The band wound down the first song, which was relatively slow for salsa music and then started right in on the next number, which was definitely more piquant. At first Margot was nervous, thinking she was going to make an ass out of herself, but Noah was such a strong lead that she had no problem following him on the floor. As they g
rew more confident in their dancing moves as a couple, Noah started spinning her faster and faster. Margot knew she was flashing way too much leg, but she didn’t care. It was exhilarating being in his arms, having him spin her and catch her and dip her low with his lips hovering over the edge of her neckline. A photographer showed up out of the woodwork and started snapping photos. Margot didn’t worry too much. She knew that even if a photo ended up in some tabloid, it would read, “Noah Donavon and a friend tore up the dance floor,” or something like that. Just as long as she didn’t accidentally flash her panties, she was good.

  After several songs, they were both out of breath and needing something to drink. As they headed back to the bar, a reporter descended upon Noah, peppering him with questions. “I’ll get us some water,” Margot told him, releasing his hand and signaling for the bartender.

  “Is that from a movie or something?” a young woman asked, bouncing up to where Margot stood.

  “What?” Margot looked around confused.

  “That dance you were doing. Is that to promote a film or something?” On second glance, her new friend wasn’t so much a woman as a girl in a gown and too much makeup.

  “No,” Margot told her. “We were just having some fun.”

  “Yeah, right,” the girl said, obviously not believing her. “Well, whatever it is, I can’t wait to see it. You two look hot together.”

  “Thank you,” Margot said blushing. “He’s a good lead.”

  “I’ll say.” The girl sighed, looking hungrily in Noah’s direction before scurrying off to join her group of friends.

  “I haven’t had that much exercise in ages,” Margot told him, once Noah was able to break free from the rapid-fire questions and rejoin her.

  “Come on.” Noah gave her an incredulous look. “You’re so fit. You have to work out regularly.”

  “Nope, just energetic living,” she told him with a smile. “You can’t exactly call my work exercise, but most of it doesn’t happen behind a desk, so I guess that helps.”