The Ranch

“Pretty much beached, I guess, I'm trying to figure out what to do for the next two months. Bill and I talked about it again before he left, but he's adamant about not wanting me to come over. He thinks it would be ‘distracting.’ To tell you the truth, I was thinking of coming out to visit you for a few days, if you have time. I can stay at a hotel. New York is just so awful in July and August, and we didn't do anything about a summer house this year because we knew Bill would be gone all summer.”

“What about Wyoming?” Tanya's face lit up as she asked her. At least half the dream could come true. Even if Zoe couldn't come, she and Mary Stuart could go to Wyoming for two weeks and play cowgirls. “Would you come with me? I have a cabin on this great ranch. It's supposed to be the height of luxury, Western style, and I can't see myself going alone. I've got the time blocked out, and I was going to give it away to someone else today, my secretary probably, or someone I work with.”

Mary Stuart looked pensive, as she sat in her kitchen, thinking about it. “It sounds like fun. I don't have anything else to do. I'm not sure what a great rider I am anymore, although I'm certainly well padded.”

“Don't give me that, you're fifteen pounds underweight. But who cares if we never ride? Who'll know? We can stare at the mountains and drink coffee, or champagne, or chase wranglers,”

“Oh, great. Here come the tabloids. I'm not going anywhere with you if you're going to trash my reputation.” But Mary Stuart was laughing at her. She loved the idea of going to a ranch with Tanya. Before, when Tanya had mentioned it, she hadn't even thought about it, because she was going to Europe to meet Alyssa, and Tanya was going to Wyoming with Tony's children.

“I promise, I'll behave. Just come. I'd love it.” Tanya's eyes were shining as she said it. “Will you, Stu?”

Mary Stuart grinned when she heard her old college name. “I'd love it. When do we go?” She had the whole summer before her.

“Right after the Fourth. Go buy yourself some boots. I've still got my old ones.”

“I'll go shopping this afternoon. How do I get there?” She had so much to do, arrangements to make, cowboy boots to buy. All of a sudden she felt like a kid again, and the thought of spending two weeks with Tanya thrilled her. It was just what she needed.

“Why don't you come to L.A., and we'll ride my bus to Jackson Hole. We can do it in two days easy. We can sleep, eat, read, watch movies, whatever you want. My driver never even talks to me. You can do anything you want on the way to Wyoming.” She had a real rock-star bus, with two huge living rooms, hidden beds, a marble bathroom, and a full kitchen. It was perfect.

“I'll be there.”

“I'll pick you up at the airport.” Tanya gave her the dates, and Mary Stuart wrote them down carefully. This wasn't what she had expected to do by any means, but suddenly she realized that this was her ticket to freedom.

She sent Bill a fax as soon as she hung up, telling him that Alyssa had canceled their trip, and they would not be coming to London. Instead she and Tanya Thomas would be spending two weeks in Wyoming, and she promised to send him the details when she had them. She said that she hoped everything was going well, and that they were settling in at the hotel. She told him she'd be leaving for Los Angeles the following week, after the Fourth, and she'd fax him from there. She signed it love, but this time she didn't say that she missed him.

After she sent the fax to him, she picked up her handbag, and went out to buy cowboy boots at Billy Martin's.

And in California, Tanya was hopping around her kitchen like a kid, thinking about their trip. She and Mary Stuart were going to have a ball. She was in great spirits all day thinking about it, and that night at the benefit she looked spectacular in a black sequined dress that clung to her extraordinary figure, and everyone said her performance had never been better.

“You were hot!” Jean whispered as Tanya came off the stage, spent but pleased. It had been a great night, and the crowd had loved her. “You're the best!” There were curtain calls and encores, and people pressing around her everywhere. There were wild screams from the crowd, and flowers flung at her, and gifts pressed into her hands, and even someone's underwear flying through the air, but she dodged it. They adored her, and as the police whisked her away, she couldn't help thinking about the insanity of her life, the wild dichotomies of which celebrity was made, how passionately she was loved, how desperately she was hated.

Chapter 8