Gail hadn’t expected her other life, the life she’d known in Whiskey Creek, to intrude quite so quickly. But as she walked into the office, which was closed up and dark on a Saturday afternoon, Callie Vanetta, a member of the clique she’d grown up with, tried to reach her on her cell phone. Gail let it go to voice mail because she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to anyone from Whiskey Creek at the moment. She’d just left Simon’s and hardly felt prepared.
“You okay?”
She was standing in the middle of her office, staring at her phone and feeling guilty about avoiding Callie when she heard Josh’s voice. She glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see him in the doorway. Her employees typically took weekends off, unless they were working on a big project. When she’d sent Josh the pictures, she’d assumed he was home and would forward them from there. But he knew she spent most weekends in her office, catching up on what she hadn’t been able to finish during the week. Considering what was going on, he’d probably made a special trip to see her.
“I’m fine, why?”
“You need me to explain?”
She turned to face him. “No.” She knew perfectly well why he’d asked.
“So?” Eyes wide with curiosity, he closed the door. She wasn’t sure why, since they were alone. Just more of his sense of drama, she supposed. “Give me the lowdown. How’d it go?”
Could she classify the meeting she’d had with Simon and Ian as good? They’d worked out a lot of details, launched “The Plan.” But whether or not they’d regret what they’d started remained to be seen. “Simon’s in.” That was about all she could say, all that was certain.
“I figured, when you sent me those pictures. It’s the dirty details I’m after.” His voice took on a husky undertone. “Were you two really kissing in that photo? Or did it just look that way?”
They hadn’t kissed. But they’d stood awfully close. Close enough so she could smell the toothpaste on Simon’s breath. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. When her breasts accidentally grazed Simon’s arm as Ian pressed them into ever more compromising positions, she’d jumped back as if he’d burned her, and Simon had scowled.
Maybe she had overreacted. But that brief contact had sent a jolt through her.
“It was all staged,” she assured Joshua. “We weren’t kissing.”
He flopped into a seat. “How disappointing.”
It had been a little anticlimactic to continue their discussion while her heart was pounding like a jackhammer. Thanks to her line of work, she associated with the rich and famous quite often, but she’d never gotten so worked up over anyone else. In an effort to fight the effect Simon was having on her, she’d searched his face, only inches above her own, for one significant flaw, something to convince her that he wasn’t as attractive as she’d originally thought—and found nothing.
His eyes were especially distinctive. An unusual sea-green color contrasted with thick black lashes and even thicker eyebrows, they reflected too much cynicism. That wasn’t attractive, but there was a hint of the lost little boy in there, too. His fine build, combined with those eyes and that sense of hidden vulnerability, packed a punch that had left her reeling.
She’d been pleased to find his bottom teeth slightly crowded.
Not that such a small imperfection really mattered. Thanks to Shiver, his last suspense thriller, she’d seen what he could do to a woman with his lips and tongue.
“You should’ve made out with him,” Joshua said.
She pulled a skeptical face. “Right. In front of Ian?”
“Why not? He was hoping to get a steamy pic. You could’ve blamed it on the PR campaign. I can’t believe you missed the opportunity to indulge. I would’ve made out with him to my heart’s content.”
Instead, she’d been clinging to her control, trying not to get swept up in the lust surging through her veins. “Simon’s too feminine for my taste.”
“Are you kidding?”
Kidding herself, maybe. High cheekbones and a prominent jaw, not to mention the perennial shadow of beard growth, added more than enough of the masculine to compensate for his pretty eyes and pouty lips. But she had to create some kind of defense. There were moments when she was afraid the hero worship she’d once felt would reassert itself and undermine what she knew of the real Simon. “I’m just saying he looks like his mother more than he does his father.”
“Doesn’t make him feminine.”
“Did you get those pictures off?” she asked instead of responding.
“As soon as they hit my in-box.”
Rounding her desk, she straightened her blotter. “And...did you get confirmation that they’ve been received?”
“Immediately. Sarah’s ecstatic about breaking the story—and avoiding any heat from that other mess we created.”
“Good.”
“So.” He crossed his legs. “You’re sure you’ll be able to make yourself go through with it? You’ll marry him?”
“I don’t see that I have any choice. I’ve already signed the contract.”
Hanging his head, Joshua peered at her through the hair, dyed a stark black instead of his usual brown, falling into his eyes. “I feel so bad about what I did.”
“I know.”
“I endangered Sarah’s job, too.”
“Yes.” Gail drummed her fingers on the desk. “What’d her boss say?”
“He’s every bit as excited as you’d expect. Anything Simon does is big news.”
That picture they’d taken in the backyard would soon be online. Other magazines and bloggers would jump on the publicity bandwagon before she could blink.
Sick at the thought of all the calls that would pour in, how she’d become the focus of the paparazzi who’d harried her biggest clients, Gail propped her chin on one fist. “Do you think this is a disaster waiting to happen?”
“Could go either way, but you’re saving my ass by doing it, so I can’t tell you how grateful I am.” He gave her a childlike smile. “Makes me love you all the more, if that helps.”
“It doesn’t,” she said, but smiled back.
He sobered. “I deserve to be fired.”
“Except that you’ve been great at your job and I can’t judge your entire performance by one stupid, drunken mistake.”
“I appreciate that. I really do.” His mood brightened. “Tell you what—I’ll marry Simon.”
She pictured the fury in Simon’s face when she’d said what she had about his family, or lack thereof. At this point, he’d probably prefer anyone to her—maybe even Josh. “I wish you could.”
She prided herself on being able to handle anything, but she was out of her element here. Maybe she was better at running other people’s lives than her own. “What if he won’t stop drinking?” she asked. “Or he secretly bites his toenails? Or sleeps in a coffin? Or burns incense and offers up prayers to his own picture?”
“All movie stars are eccentric—or get that way if they go unchecked for too long. Just roll with it. The marriage is only temporary.”
Two years didn’t feel as short as he made it sound. “But he might be more insufferable than I’m expecting. Maybe he’s...abusive.”
Josh grimaced. “He’s not abusive, not physically, anyway. With his ex running her mouth to anyone who’ll listen, we would’ve heard about it if he’d ever even threatened to hit her or the kid.”
“He’s hit a few guys,” she mused. “He got in that fight on-set, remember?”
“I’m not likely to forget. That’s the reason you refused to work for him anymore.”
Ignoring the censure in his voice, she proceeded to prove it wasn’t the only reason. “What about that time a few months ago when he tried to force his way into his ex-wife’s house and got in a shoving match with her brother?”
“Maybe he had a good reason for what he did.”
“On both counts?”
“That’s how we tried to spin it,” he said with a shrug.
“He could’ve walked away.”
“We both know he’s not the type. Too short a fuse.”
“That’s no excuse.” She searched for other examples to support her “Simon’s unstable” theory. “And those bikers?”
Joshua adjusted the scarf he wore with his pink button-down shirt. “I think he wanted to get his ass kicked that night. Why else would he drive to the shitty side of town and confront so many dangerous gangbangers? He was all alone, had no chance from the beginning.”
That was what she thought, too. Nothing else made sense. After the judge signed the restraining order that would keep Simon from his wife and son, he found a seedy bar he later admitted he’d never been to before, one with a row of motorcycles out front, and picked a fight with three Hells Angels. They would’ve destroyed his face, maybe a lot more, if not for one of their own. Fortunately, a member of the club happened to be a big fan. He saved Simon an extended hospital stay by pulling the others off and pushing him out of the joint while he could still walk—but the biker later confessed he was disappointed that Simon didn’t really know kung fu. He’d expected more from him after watching Take It or Leave It, Simon’s most violent movie.
“Honestly? I think the worst he’s done is cheat,” Joshua said.
“You say that like it’s nothing.”
“It’s nothing to you.”
She cocked her head in challenge. “I’m only his future wife!”
He cocked his head right back at her, exaggerating the movement. “But you don’t love him. Cheating on you would be more of a...breach of contract.”
“It’ll be adultery to the rest of the world! And he might have other problems, ones we haven’t discovered yet. Maybe he’s a sex addict.” He’d certainly made a big enough deal about her refusal to service him....
“You should ask.”
“I did. Ian and I talked about the possibility last night. He says no. Claims there were extenuating circumstances to Simon’s extramarital affairs.”
“Like...he got bored and horny?” Josh said with a laugh.
“Ian doesn’t know for sure. He thinks she may have cheated first, but he can’t substantiate that and it doesn’t really make sense. Wouldn’t Simon have said so if it meant keeping custody of Ty?”
“No doubt.” Josh swung his foot. “You didn’t confront Simon himself?”
“I’d already called him an alcoholic. I didn’t think it would go over too well if I accused him of being a sex addict, too.”
“So what do you want me to say, Gail? Don’t do it?”
The anger drained out of her. “More or less.”
“Then don’t do it. We’ll...go into promoting beauty products or something.”
If that happened, she’d have to start over alone. “What about Sonya? And Serge? And you and everyone else? I have to do this.”
“Then keep Simon in bed.”
“Excuse me?”
Eager to convey his point, he leaned forward. “If you’re so worried he might stray, keep him in bed, darling. Don’t give him time for anyone else.”
Sometimes Gail wished she could be as sexually unfettered as her assistant. She was beginning to feel a lot older than she was.
What are you doing this weekend?
Working.
Any plans for Friday night?
Catching up on some paperwork.
Tell me you have a hot date for Valentine’s Day.
With my television.
She’d fallen to a new low when she went to a movie alone on her birthday. She was still mad at herself for not heading back to Whiskey Creek, but she’d been so slammed with new clients she hadn’t wanted to take the time off.
“Thanks for that piece of advice, but I don’t want to talk about what I should do to keep Simon interested on a sexual level.” He wasn’t interested to begin with.
“Why not? You can do it. So what if you’re a late starter?”
“I’m not a late starter. I’m selective.”
Josh formed a steeple with his fingers. “You didn’t lose your virginity until you were twenty-six. That definitely qualifies as a late start.”
She should never have admitted that. Josh had a way of getting personal information out of anyone.
“I was twenty-five,” she corrected. “But who’s keeping track?”
“Just me.”
“Thanks for that.”
“Maybe it’s good you’re tying the knot. Maybe this is the only way you’ll ever say ‘I do,’ seeing as you cross every guy off your list before you even give him a chance.”
“Before I sleep with him, you mean.”
“Same thing.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Not quite.”
A soft knock interrupted them, which surprised her. She’d figured they were alone.
Bracing herself in case it was the beginning of the media onslaught—some reporter who’d somehow gotten in—Gail called out, “Yes?”
It wasn’t a reporter. It was Ashley, her receptionist, who poked her head into the room. “Thought I might catch you here.”
“What brings you to the office on your day off?” Gail asked.
“The answering service contacted me. They’re being inundated with calls from a guy with The Star, who claims he has to talk to someone in the office right away.” Barely five feet, Ashley looked more like a child than a twenty-one-year-old woman. Her large-framed glasses added to the effect; they always gave Gail the impression she was playing dress-up. “I thought maybe it was important, that someone should get back to him.”
Joshua’s eyes latched on to Gail’s. “You know what this means.”
“I do. Word is getting out.” It was time to quit fighting what she’d agreed to do and throw herself into her role. If they had any hope of pulling off this campaign, there could be no halfway measures. She had to play the part even for her own employees.
But when it came right down to it, she couldn’t lie, bald-faced, to Ashley. She knew she’d feel ridiculous saying that one of the most famous men in America had fallen in love with her, especially when he’d never so much as given her an appreciative glance.
She couldn’t bear lying to the rest of the people who worked for her, either. Which meant Josh had to do it. “Josh will explain the situation to you and everyone else.”
Josh blinked at her. “I will?”
“Yes.” Maybe it’d be more believable if everyone heard it secondhand while she went underground, anyway. She’d take the phone off the hook and hole up in her house for two or three days. That would go far toward convincing everyone that her “relationship” with Simon was real. If she suddenly went quiet instead of going on the record with an admission or a denial, the press would chase after the story that much harder and break it that much bigger.
The paparazzi would be waiting for her when she emerged, of course. She wouldn’t be able to avoid them altogether. But hiding out until Wednesday would save her a lot of acting, which she feared wasn’t her strong suit despite the misplaced confidence she’d exhibited at Simon’s.
Josh cleared his throat. “Right, I will. And you...”
“Will be at home for a couple of days,” she finished while packing up her briefcase.
“Right again. Not coming in is probably a good idea. We’ll do what we can without you.”
“Thanks.” In a moment of clarity, Gail realized she’d set a match to a trail of gunpowder by making that agreement with Simon. But it was too late to put out the fire.
All she could do was try to survive the explosion.