21
The following twenty-fours hours proved more bearable, or maybe that was because Jay was here and Marc made himself scarce. Added to that, I’d managed a careful shower without getting my stitches wet and the post-operative pain was getting better, too.
By five o’clock the next evening I’d almost go as far to say I’d had a good day. The scripts Diana had sent me were interesting, and there was one in particular I would tell her I was keen on. As soon as I returned to LA, I’d get her to start negotiations.
I was still pondering that script when I heard the sound of a car outside. Jay rose from the sofa next to mine and I set the script down on the table. I watched him walk to the window overlooking the drive.
“Who is it?” I was curious, rather than scared. Aside from being in the middle of nowhere, it was highly unlikely anyone had tracked my whereabouts thanks to Marc’s excessive security precautions.
“It’s an older woman and a kid.”
“A kid?”
I stood up and joined Jay at the window. While I believed him, I was still surprised to see an elegant older lady with shoulder-length dark hair walking hand in hand with a young girl of maybe ten or eleven. Even from a distance, the pale-faced young girl was striking. She had thick, wavy red hair—not bright orange as many kids did. It was a red so deep it was almost brown. I could sense a nervousness in the way she was clasping the lady’s hand.
Just before they reached the entrance, the girl looked our way and her eyes rounded. Big, impossibly dark brown eyes.
Marc’s eyes.
I stepped back from the window in shock and Jay turned to stare at me, a question in his gaze.
I shook my head.
A second later, there was a knock on the door. We remained in the living room and heard footsteps approach the front door.
“Marc! Don’t you ever switch your cell on?”
There was the shuffle of movement.
“Mom. You can’t be here.”
“Well, I am, and so is your daughter it turns out.”
“Hi, Daddy.”
The child’s bright greeting was like a physical blow and I grasped for the edge of the sofa, unsteadily taking a seat.
Marc was a father. Did that mean he had a wife somewhere, too?
“Sweetheart.”
Again, I was glad I was sitting down. He spoke it roughly, but that one word held more love than I thought him capable of.
“Daddy!”
In the silence that followed I imagined the girl had thrown herself into Marc’s safe arms.
“Sweetheart,” he said again. “This is a surprise. I thought we weren’t seeing each other for two more weeks.”
“Mom’s new guy has taken her to Paris.” The amount of contempt in her voice surprised me.
“Paris?”
“Yeah. It was a surprise or something. And I wasn’t invited, which is good because he’s a total douche.”
“Ruby!”
I put a hand to my mouth at Marc’s exclamation. So maybe it was possible to crack his tough outer shell.
“Ruby,” he said again, more composed, “you shouldn’t talk like that.”
“Well, it’s true. Wait until you meet him. Nan agrees with me.”
“Does she?”
“Yes,” I heard Nan say, “she does. And I think children are good judges of character. They turned up on my doorstep because you weren’t home and insisted I take Ruby. Not that I mind, of course, but they gave us absolutely no warning. Ruby wanted to come and see you.”
There was a beat of silence. “And I want to see her, but I’m on an assignment.”
“You mean you’re ruminating in this big, lonely house again. I’m almost sorry I bought it for you.”
“No, Mom, I mean I’m on an assignment right now and it’s not appropriate for you to be—”
“You’re minding Lena Lyons, aren’t you?” Ruby interrupted in a big whisper.
“Well, I can’t really—”
“I saw her,” Ruby accused. “In the window.”
There was another beat of silence.
“Can I meet her, Dad? Please?”
I had to smile at the girl’s tone. She was charming and convincing.
“Rubes, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but Lena’s here because some bad stuff is going on and—”
“You mean she’s being stalked again?” his mother demanded to know.
I bristled at the older woman’s incredulous tone. Like she knew all about me and my previous stalkers. Like Marc had told her.
“Mom,” I heard Marc growl.
“The poor woman. How awful. Where is she?”
I heard high heels on the marble tiles and moments later Marc’s mother stood in the doorway to the living area. Up close, I liked her immediately. She wore fitted jeans and a floaty bright top that was yellow, blue and green. Over that, was a stylish black leather jacket. It was an outfit someone twenty years younger could have worn, but with her trim figure she pulled it off effortlessly. But perhaps the thing I liked most was her face. Despite the youthful clothes, her face showed her age. She had fine wrinkles and laughter lines. This was a woman who felt deeply and clearly laughed a lot.
“Hello, Lena. I’m Heather, Marc’s mother.”
I stood and walked over to meet her. I nodded at my sling. “Forgive me for not shaking your hand.”
Unlike Marc’s, Heather’s eyes were a light blue and they widened at the sight of my sling. “Oh, no. You’re hurt? I’m so sorry.”
I offered her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be OK.”
She leaned in. “I’m sorry to say the fire was all over the news.”
“I know.”
“And your beautiful house. I’m terribly sorry for you.”
“At least no one was hurt.” When she glanced at my sling, I smiled sheepishly. “Badly.”
I noticed movement behind us and looked over to see Marc and his daughter, Ruby. For some unexplained reason, I found it hard to breathe.
Ruby was tucked into Marc’s side, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I had no idea how often they saw each other but here was a bond so deep, so certain, I knew nothing could break it. Just like the bond I’d had with my mother.
“Hi, Lena,” she said shyly.
I gave her a genuine smile and took a step closer. “Hi, Ruby. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Is Daddy doing a good job of looking after you?”
My heart instantly swelled at her question. She was so sweet, so genuine it almost hurt. After the loss of my mother, I’d never really allowed myself to contemplate the idea of having children. It was painful enough losing a parent. What must it be like to love a child so much and risk losing them?
Despite my dark thoughts, a deep fascination won out. Unable to help myself, I crouched down in front of her.
She was even more beautiful up close. Her pale skin had a dusting of freckles across her nose. I wanted to tell her to be proud of them. To say to her that the happiness they signified was worth cherishing for all of her days rather than some stupid ideal of beauty. Instead, I nodded.
“Yes, he’s very good at his job.” I never would have said so to Marc directly, but it was the truth.
Ruby nodded gravely. “I know. He’s good at protecting people from the bad guys.”
Her gaze was so sincere and knowing that I stared, transfixed.
“Rubes.” Marc squeezed her gently. “Leave the bad guys to me, huh?”
Ruby rolled her eyes and shrugged Marc off, obviously feeling less shy now. “He always says that. Does he say that to you?”
I laughed softly and glanced up at Marc. His eyes weren’t on me, and he was watching his daughter with a look of such fondness the longing in my chest intensified. “Yes, he does, actually.”
“Figures.” Then her eyes widened as Jay walked over to us.
He must have been quite a sight for a young girl. Jay was always beautifully dressed in a tailored black suit but this was probably lost on Ruby given his imposing stature.
“Hey, Ruby. I’m Jay. Lena’s bodyguard.”
Wariness turned to delight. “Serious? A real-life bodyguard. Cool.”
Jay chuckled. “I guess.”
“Not I guess, totally! Can I interview you, please? I’m writing a story, you see, and it’s got bad guys and good guys and everything, and I’ve never met a real-life good guy—except for my dad, but he doesn’t count—so I really need to talk to someone like you to make sure my story is authentic and—”
“Rubes,” Marc said again. “Slow down.”
Ruby shoved her dad in the side. “No way. Not a chance. This is too good an opportunity to pass up, Dad. You never tell me anything. Jay looks really nice, I’m sure he’ll tell me something that will help with my story. Will you, Jay, pretty please?”
Jay chuckled again. “I’m happy to if Marc is OK with it. But no gory details, huh?”
Ruby pouted and we all laughed.
“Gory is better! Dad always leaves out the gory stuff, even though I beg him to tell me, but Mom says that’s the whole Marines brotherhood thing, they never talk about stuff—”
“Ruby.” Marc’s voice was curt this time and Ruby snapped her mouth shut. At his daughter’s contrite expression, he nodded at Jay. “Why doesn’t Jay take you to the kitchen for a glass of water and he can tell you a bit about working for Lena?”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
Ruby grinned and reached over and grabbed Jay’s big hand. She attempted to tug him out the door, much to his amusement. I straightened once they were gone, my head spinning with thoughts.
Brotherhood? Marines? Suddenly I remembered the tattoo I’d glimpsed the other night and realized what it was. It was Latin: Semper Fid—something. Of course. Semper Fidelis. Always faithful.
“You were in the US Marines? I thought you were in the FBI?”
“No. I never said that.” His dark eyes were guarded.
No, he hadn’t, now that I recalled. “Why is it such a big secret?” I didn’t understand why he’d go to such lengths to hide it.
Heather reached out and touched my arm. “Don’t worry. Ruby’s right. It’s their way. He never talks about it, even to us.”
I nodded and forced myself to smile. If that was the case, it was none of my business, too. “Of course. I’ll let you catch up with Marc. Excuse me.”
I slipped into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. As tempting as it was to try to eavesdrop, I retreated to the safety of my bed.
It explained so much. His detachment. The way he took down that reporter as if it was a reflex. And his low opinion of Hollywood.
What sort of things had he seen? Where had he served? Jay had served in Afghanistan, but only for a short time. He’d told me once was enough.
Had Marc killed people?
My mouth went dry at the thought.
So much of it made sense now. But not quite everything. One thing still didn’t make any sense at all. He claimed it was the money but now it didn’t quite ring true.
What on earth was Marc Romero doing in Hollywood?