River’s End

no moderation for either of us back then.”
    “Drugs.”
    “Rehabilitated,” she said, holding up a hand and flashing a killer smile. “My body’s a temple now, and a damn good one.”
    “No arguing there,” Noah responded and made her purr. “But there were drugs.”
    “Honey, they were passed out like candy. Coke was our favorite party favor. Word was after Sam fell for Julie, she put a stop to that. But me, I just kept on flying. Wrecked my health, toppled my career, screwed up my personal life by marrying two money-grubbing creeps. When the eighties dawned, I was sick, broke, ruined. I got clean and clawed my way back. Sitcom guest shots, bit parts in bad movies. I took whatever I could get, and I was grateful. Then six years ago I got Roxy.”
    She smiled over the situation comedy that had boosted her back to the top. “‘A lot of people talk about reinventing themselves. I did it.”
    “Not everyone would be so up-front about the mistakes they made along the way. You’ve always been brutally honest about what you did, where you were.”
    “Part of my personal philosophy. I had fame once, and I handled it badly. I have it again, and I don’t take any of it for granted.”
    She glanced around the spacious dressing room with its plump sofa, fresh flowers. “
    Some say Roxy saved my life, but they’re wrong. I saved my life, and part of the process was putting my relationship with Sam Tanner in perspective. I loved him. He loved Julie. And look what that got her.”
    She plucked a glossy green grape from a bowl, popped it in her mouth. “Look what getting dumped by him got me.”
    “How did you feel about her?”
    “I hated her.” She said it cheerfully, without a hint of guilt. “Not only did she have what I wanted, but she came off looking like the wholesome girl next door while I was the used-up former lover. I was thrilled when their marriage hit the rocks, when Sam started showing up at clubs and parties again. The old Sam. Looking for action, asking for trouble.”
    “Did you give it to him? The action? The trouble?”
    For the first time since the interview began, she hesitated. Stalling, she rose to refill her glass. “I was different back then. Selfish, single-minded. Destructive. He’d come into a party, make some comment about Julie being tired or tied up. But I knew him, knew that edge in his eyes. He was unhappy and angry and restless. I was between marriages to Asshole Number One and Asshole Number Two. And I was still in love with Sam. Pitifully in love with him.”
    She turned then, looking smart and sophisticated in the snazzy red suit she would wear to shoot the upcoming scene. “This is painful. I didn’t realize it would be painful. Well . . .” She lifted her glass in salute and offered him her signature self-mocking smile. “Builds character. At one of those ubiquitous parties we indulged ourselves in during that regrettable era, Sam and I shared a couple of lines for old times’ sake. I won’t say who hosted the party, it doesn’t really matter. It could have been anyone. We were in a bedroom, sitting at this ornate glass table. The mirror, the silver knife, the pretty little straws. I egged him on about Julie. I knew what buttons to push.”
    Her gaze turned inward, and this time he thought he saw regret in them. “He said he knew she was fucking Lucas— Lucas Manning. He was going to put a stop to that, by Christ, and she was going to pay for cheating on him. She was keeping his daughter away from him, turning the kid against him. He’d see them all in hell before she replaced him with that son of a bitch. They didn’t know who they were dealing with, and he’d show them just who they were dealing with. He was ranting, and I pushed him along, telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. All I could think was, he’ll leave her and come back to me. Where he belongs. Instead he turned on me, shoved me away. We ended up screaming at each other. Just before he slammed out he looked at me, sneered at me. He said I’d never have any class, never be anything but a second-rate whore pretending to be a star. That I’d never be Julie.
    “Two days later, she was dead. He made her pay,” Lydia said with a sigh. “If he’d killed her that night, the night he left me at that party, I don’t think I’d have survived it. For purely selfish reasons I’m grateful he waited just long enough so I was sure he’d forgotten me again. You know, it took me years to