Chapter 8

 

Rock slipped his cell phone back into his pocket. This woman had clawed her way into his heart. He liked her sassy responses, her determination and the feisty attitude. He loved her breathtaking smile, her deep blue eyes and that sexy body of hers.

So why was he behaving like a jerk around her? The answer was as obvious as it was painful. Guilt. Anger. Grief.

Rock leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes for a moment. Allowing the memories and all of the emotions they conjured up to overwhelm him. If he were a woman he would at least be able to weep over the loss of his best friend. Tristan.

After the accident when Tristan had lost a leg and an arm, Rock had been so caught up in his own problems, he hadn’t spent enough time with his friend. Hadn’t noticed how Tristan lapsed into depression until it was too late. Tristan’s suicide was branded onto Rock’s soul forever. It was my fault. If I had paid better attention to his needs, he could still be alive... Waves of emotions rocked his body, and many years of unshed tears threatened to choke him.

About a year after Tristan’s death, Rock retired from his athletic career and founded Rock Solid. It was a way to channel the tremendous amount of guilt into something worthwhile. An attempt at redemption.

Most days, he functioned in spite of the heavy burden of guilt. He was a master at keeping an iron control over his emotions, but Vivian had struck a chord. Unknowingly, she’d unearthed the heavy load of guilt he’d been carrying around for years.

Usually, when people asked him about his sudden retirement, he answered with set phrases, carefully crafted by his manager Tommy.

But Vivian was different. She mattered to him. Which had worsened everything. Guilt over not telling her the truth had coupled with guilt over his past and escalated beyond measure. He wished he could tell her – but it simply wasn’t possible.

That’s why he’d brushed her off with arrogance and the hurtful glance in her eyes had slashed him apart. But it was for the best. It would be even better not to see her again, the rational side of his brain reminded him. This woman and you – a catastrophe waiting to happen.

His logic was sound, but his heart hadn’t gotten the message. Deep within, he hoped there would be a chance for them, even without telling her the truth.

Rock wallowed for a moment more, and then reached into his pocket for his phone once more.

“Hello? Rock?” Tommy, his friend and manager answered.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“I’m still…”

“Save it,” Rock said. “I need to get out of the house. Meet me at Barney’s and we’ll grab a beer?”

“Great plan. Thirty minutes enough time?” Tommy was always up for drinks or women.

Rock sighed and answered, “No, probably need to give me forty-five. These crutches are a damn inconvenience.”

“You need a ride?” he asked.

“No, I’ll have my driver come get me.” Rock normally preferred to drive himself, but today he planned to drink way more than he should.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I could come get you...” Tommy offered.

“Nah. See you there.” Rock hung up the phone, then sent a text message to his driver, grinning when the man immediately responded back. This was one awesome perk of being rich and he’d never tire of it.

Rock arrived at the bar, making his way to the booth in the corner Tommy had already secured for their use.

“Man, I could have just grabbed something from the liquor store and come over to your place,” Tommy said with a nod to Rock’s air cast.

Rock grinned at him as he leaned the crutches against the table. “You could have, but that wouldn’t have served the purpose of getting me out of the house.”

“So, how did your first training session with your attacker go?” Tommy teased.

Rock gave him a warning look and shook his head. Tommy held up his hands in surrender and helped Rock to get seated at the table where two beers waited on their owners.

“I ordered beer for us. Hope that was okay,” Tommy said.

“Sure.” Rock gulped down the entire glass, the cold golden liquid running down his throat. He welcomed the burn as the alcohol started to melt away his upset. “Ahhh! I needed that.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and signaled the waiter to bring another two beers before he turned to Tommy. “Tell me about the fundraiser.”

“I made some phone calls and I’ve come up with a short list of four actresses that are willing to do this…”

Rock shook his head, annoyed. “I already told you …”

“Yeah, yeah. You told me, but you can’t stick your head in the sand on this one. You need a big name to cover for the fact that you aren’t in your own race anymore. Hear me out. One of the agents came up with a splendid idea. Instead of only having the woman as your star attraction, you go out with her a few times, letting everyone believe you’re a pair…and boom! Both your popularities will fly off the charts.”

“No way!” Rock’s stomach churned. His annoyance grew as Tommy continued to outline his reasons for trying to pair him up with another actress. Did he really have to stoop that low and sell out his inner convictions to raise the money for his foundation? Fake a relationship with someone he didn’t even know? God, no!

Tommy stopped talking, realizing that Rock wasn’t on board and leveled a look at him. “You know I’m right. The only way to make sure the charity run is successful, is to secure the participation of someone the media can latch onto.”

“I know.” Rock sighed and took a big gulp of the beer that had been delivered a few moments earlier. The bitter taste of hops couldn’t flush down the staleness Tommy’s suggestion had left in his mouth. His friend was right about the publicity, but that didn’t make the plan more attractive.

“Okay, she can race, but I’m not pretending I like that actress,” Rock growled. It was bad enough that he’d be forced to schmooze this yet to be named actress the day of the race, but he wouldn’t go out with her. Not when the only woman he was interested in was Vivian.

“You like this girl.” Tommy smirked.

Rock ignored him, but Tommy was like a dog with a bone. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for this Vivian, are you?”

“None of your business.” Rock ordered another beer.

Tommy didn’t pursue the topic and instead pulled his phone from his pocket, swiping his thumb across the screen. “These are the headshots of the women considered.”

Rock dutifully looked at the pictures, all of the women stunning and gazing sexily into the lens of the camera.

“Don’t like them,” he said, almost snorting beer up his nose.

“You don’t have to like them. This is business, remember?” Tommy insisted. “Just tell me which one you prefer and I’ll do the rest.”

Rock looked over the pictures once more, finally tapping the screen where a cute blonde flashed a smile.  “That one. If I have to do this, get her.”

“Good choice. Carla Dawson. She just came through rehab, after a short stint, and her career could use a boost. She could be a great example of a second chance. It fits with the theme of the foundation.”

Rock listened half-heartedly. The young woman had hit Hollywood like a tsunami several years earlier, but the pressure and variety of distractions had gotten the best of her, and she’d spiraled downwards with drugs. After getting wasted once too often shooting her second blockbuster movie, she’d agreed to go into a rehab facility. She was out now, but her career was on the rocks.

His mind flashed back to Tristan, who had committed suicide because nobody recognized how depressed he’d become after the accident. Had Carla Dawson been in a similar situation?

“Fine. Get her and I’ll play nice in the sandbox,” Rock agreed.

“I knew you’d see things my way.“ Tommy chuckled and finished his drink.

The actress paled in comparison to Vivian’s natural beauty – and determination. She was as far from being shallow as one could be, and boring definitely wasn’t a word he would ever use to describe her. Combine that with her smoking hot body and the quick wit she’d shown him, and every cell in his body yearned to see her again.

That woman had tied him in knots without even trying.