CHAPTER ONE
Present day…
On shaking, stiff legs Carrie Johnson accepted her passport back from the unsmiling man behind the passport control counter and shoved it back into her handbag. After an eleven-hour flight from Tampa, Florida, she had finally arrived in London, a city that was much colder than the one she’d left. She didn’t have many cold weather clothes so a shopping trip was high on her to-do list unless she wanted to spend the next several weeks and months freezing her ass off. The man who had been sitting next to her on the plane sure wasn’t going to keep her warm. His demeanor the entire flight had been decidedly chilly. He was put out that she had turned down his offer of a showmance.
Seriously, of course she’d said no. No one in their right mind was going to believe it. An ordinary girl with an ordinary life wasn’t going to be the next girlfriend of one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. He’d have to deal with his own problems, just as she’d have to deal with her own.
Since Carrie hadn’t had much to pack, she’d carried on her bag so she breezed by the baggage claim and went straight to customs. It took only minutes to walk through the Green line that indicated she had nothing to declare. It was on the other side he would be waiting.
Him. Max.
The world knew him as Maxwell Hayes, star of stage, screen, and television. Or Haden from the Thunder movies as so many people referred to him.
Tall, dark, and handsome with crystal clear blue eyes, he was one of the most popular A-list actors in Hollywood at the moment. Coming off an Oscar nomination for some boring art film she’d fallen asleep in, he was in demand by everyone who was anyone. And Max Hayes was a big deal someone.
Two days ago, the night before Paige and Nate’s wedding, he’d proposed a fake relationship – a showmance, if you will – to keep people from feeling sorry for them because of his cheating soon to be ex-wife and Carrie’s unfaithful fiancé. She’d said no and Max had taken the answer well outwardly but he’d spent most of the flight to London either glowering or sleeping. They’d shared the flight but little else. Paige and Nate had insisted that she fly back with Max but when she’d agreed she hadn’t known this entirely sticky situation was going to come up. Now she was planning to share a taxi with a man who was pissy about being turned down. She was sure that was an unusual feeling for him. Everywhere he went women seemed to come out of the woodwork to throw themselves at him and the plane had been no exception.
Perhaps she had been a tiny bit rash to say no.
She’d been hurting that night at the dinner party, heartbroken and crying when he’d found her. He’d made it sound so simple and so seductive. Instead of friends and family patting her on the back and pitying her, they would be happy for her, or at least envious. She’d landed one of the most sought after men in show business. Of course it was all one big lie, but they didn’t know that.
But she would know and she hated the thought of deceiving people, even strangers. Living a lie wasn’t something she thought she could do.
“Are you ready?”
Max seemed to come out of nowhere, wearing shades and a hat to lessen the chance of being recognized. Her own gaze swept the arrivals lounge but everyone seemed immersed in their own reunions, not bothering with anyone else.
She hadn’t known him long but when he wanted he could act like a pretty regular guy. He could also act like a pompous prick, looking down that patrician nose at her. She’d been sitting next to him for eleven hours and he’d said maybe a dozen words to her. He was making this more awkward than it needed to be. He should be thanking her. She was hardly his type and none of his friends were going to be impressed that he’d landed a slightly chubby personal assistant with great hair. That was her best feature. Her hair could star in a shampoo commercial if the rest of her wasn’t so ordinary.
For now, she needed to make the best of things. Max was a close friend of Nate’s, who was now the husband of her employer and best friend, which was why she was here in London. She was planning to spend a lot more time here in this city and she didn’t want it to be weird.
“Sorry I took so long.” She shook her head when he reached out a hand for her bag. “It took awhile to get through passport control. I don’t think the guy likes Americans very much.”
Max had sailed through the line for British citizens with a promise to wait for her on the other side. “I’m sure that’s not the case. Please let me get your bag.”
Wrinkling her nose, Carrie shook her head. “You didn’t see his face when he saw my American passport. Definitely not a fan of the colonies.”
“Carrie, give me your bag.” That deep voice he was so damn famous for. She looked up and his brows were raised in question and his hand was still out. Waiting. It didn’t appear that they were planning to move until she handed it over.
Something else she was beginning to realize. He was bossy too. Those dozen words he’d spoken to her during the flight? All commands to do something. Close her eyes and sleep. Eat something. Have a drink. Use the blanket if she was cold.
“It’s on wheels,” she protested, looking down at the small suitcase. “And not very heavy. I only own two sweaters so there wasn’t much to pack.”
His full lips turned up at the corners. “It’s not about how heavy it is. It’s about how my mother raised me. Now please let me deal with the luggage.”
Oh. That was different. Still bossy but different.
Relinquishing the handle, she followed him outside to the taxi stand where she quickly found herself in the back seat of a real black London cab heading to Hampstead where Max and Nate both owned homes. Carrie would be staying at Nate and Paige’s until she found a flat for herself.
Carrie leaned forward in her seat to get a better vantage point. It was an early Monday morning in the UK and the streets were jammed with commuters, but it gave her a chance to see the sights.
“You said you’ve never been to London.”
Carrie shrugged. “Never had the opportunity. Visited France and Greece though. Really enjoyed it. The food was out of this world good.”
“We have excellent restaurants in London. I can recommend a few, if you’d like.”
She had to give him credit, he was trying to make it less awkward. If he put forth the effort, she would as well.
“That’s very kind of you but before I do much of anything I’m going to need to go shopping and get some warm clothes. Maybe a real coat too, although we’re heading into the summer months. Paige told me a few stores to try.”
Her friend and employer had no idea what was going on in Carrie’s life. It wouldn’t have been right to dump her broken engagement on Paige’s wedding day, although she was going to have to come clean when the newlyweds finished their short honeymoon in Paris and settled in LA while Nate filmed a new movie.
“I hope they’re having a good time,” she said wistfully. “They looked so happy at the wedding.”
“They’re in love and on their honeymoon,” Max chuckled. “They’re having a good time. I’m sure of it. Speaking of a good time, since you’ve never been here I can get my assistant to take you around or she can book you on a proper tour.”
That sounded like proper torture. People following along like cattle listening to someone drone on and on from a script. “Thank you but I’ll probably just get a guidebook and putter around. See where inspiration takes me.”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
That was a loaded statement if she’d ever heard one. She hadn’t been happy since Mark had so unceremoniously dumped her. She’d cried for days when she wasn’t with Paige, constantly asking herself what was wrong with her. Why had Mark fallen out of love with her? Maybe he’d never really loved her at all. Maybe she wasn’t lovable.
Max pointed out some of the famous landmarks and Carrie made a mental note to hit the London Eye right away, preferably both during the day and after dark. She wanted to see this city from a high perch.
“I know you didn’t tell Paige about your engagement,” Max said, his gaze still on his phone. “Did you tell your parents? Are they concerned about you coming here to London all alone?”
It was at that moment that Carrie realized they didn’t know each other well at all. She knew a few things because she’d looked him up on the Internet but he knew nothing at all about her except that she worked for Paige. Hardly enough to base a relationship on. The whole idea had been ludicrous.
“My parents have passed away so I don’t have to worry about what they think. I have an older brother who’s married with two kids. When he finds out about Mark I’m going to have to talk him out of burying my ex in a shallow grave.”
Max cleared his throat. “This Mark fellow deserves it.”
Truer words and all that…
“Damn skippy he does but it’s illegal. And morally wrong,” she added as an afterthought.
The tension between them was lessened to a degree so she was feeling more comfortable with him when they arrived in front of his home on a lovely residential street. High black iron gates kept the riffraff out but they swung open when Max tapped out a code on his phone. Technology. Nice. She loved anything that made life easier and more organized.
Max told the cabbie to wait for Carrie. “Why don’t you come inside and get that spare key to Nate’s home? I can’t believe they took off and forgot to give you one.”
Smiling, Carrie remembered the blissful expressions of Paige and her new husband. “I can. They had a lot on their minds that day and the next morning too. I’ll have a copy made and get it back to you as soon as possible.”
“Good plan,” he said, leading the way up the front steps. “I can point out just the shop to have one made.”
Unlocking the door, he pushed it open with his shoulder and they stepped into the foyer where he placed the bags. She walked a few feet into the living room with Max right beside her and that nasty tension was back but this time it wasn’t her fault. Not at all.
His home looked like a war zone. What Alana hadn’t taken and loaded into that truck the other night, she’d destroyed. It looked like some crazed person had taken a sledgehammer to every mirror, photo, chair, and dish in the house. There was glass scattered across the floor as far as the eye could see, shredded throw rugs and pillows, and the masterpiece – the biggest damn flat screen television she’d ever seen with a hammer lodged in the face.
“Bloody hell,” Max groaned, scraping his fingers through his hair as he walked forward cautiously, the sound of glass crunching under his shoes. “What in the ever-loving fuck?”
If the rest of the house looked as bad as the kitchen and living room there was no way he’d be spending the night here. Her business instincts came to the fore, and Carrie pulled out her cell phone and began looking for a hotel. Then she’d find a cleanup crew for this mess. After that? A home furnishings store. He’d need everything new right down to the forks. Thank God he could afford it, although that didn’t make this any better.
Note to self. Max’s ex-wife is a total bitch.
“This is criminal, Max. You could call the police on her.”
He didn’t turn around but simply shook his head. “I don’t want or need that kind of publicity. It would play right into her hands.”
“Maybe she’s counting on you staying quiet.”
He glanced over his shoulder, his expression a mask of fury.
Another note to self. Max has a temper and he was currently hanging on to it by a thread.
“I know how to handle this,” he growled, his jaw set. “She thinks she’s got me by the balls. She’s mistaken.”
They walked through the rest of the house and every room was no better than the last.
“She broke every mirror in your home,” Carrie observed. “That’s like…thirty-five years of bad luck. She’s screwed.”
“She’ll have more bad luck than that.” Max looked around his master bedroom, the mattress ripped to shreds. “I can’t stay here. I’ll need to find somewhere else while I replace all of this.”
Carrie smiled and held up her phone. She might not be able to be the girlfriend of his dreams but dammit, she was good to have around in a crisis. “Way ahead of you, Hamlet. The Ritz, The Four Seasons, or The Savoy?”
That famous eyebrow quirked up and his forehead wrinkled as if he was puzzled.
“The Ritz, I suppose.”
“I’m on it. Now I’ve found a possible cleaning company but we might do better to call your regular service. Do you have their number?”
“I do here in my phone. I’ll call them.”
She shook her head as she typed into her phone. “I can do that. Then we need to go shopping to replace all of this. Did you pick it out yourself or did you have a designer do it?”
“Myself.”
“Are you going to want to do that again? I can probably arrange for a few designers to talk to you.”
His large hand came into her view and gently tugged her phone away from her. “Carrie, you don’t have to do this. I have an assistant and she can handle this.”
“But I’m here and we can get on top of this right now.”
He stepped into her personal space, looming over her. She caught a whiff of his aftershave along with a few other scents – soap, mint, and maybe cigarettes too.
“Carrie.” He’d bent his head so their faces were close, inches apart, and her heart accelerated, banging against her ribs. Fear? No, this was something else. Attraction? He was handsome with a voice to die for. No, she couldn’t be attracted to him. He wasn’t her type. She didn’t do assholes. “This isn’t your problem to solve.”
Her fingers gripped her cellphone and she slowly exhaled a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “I’m happy to help you.”
“No need. I’ll call my assistant to take care of all of this, but I do thank you for offering. Not many people would have.”
“Not many people have their entire home destroyed by a vengeful ex-wife.”
He grimaced, his mouth turned down. “Soon to be ex. The divorce isn’t final yet but it shouldn’t be long now. It can’t come soon enough.”
“Clearly.”
That had him chuckling but then he turned serious again. “Carrie, I don’t want to push this but I’d like to extend the offer one more time. I think we can help each other out. I need you and I think you need me too.”
There was tension in the way he held himself, showing that he wasn’t altogether comfortable having to ask. Again. For a moment she wavered, wondering if she’d done the right thing. He was a handsome, sexy movie star and this would be her only chance of ever dating someone like him, even if it was fake.
But then she remembered that they’d have to walk down red carpets and she’d have to wear designer clothes and jewels. She simply wasn’t the type and if he’d been thinking straight, he’d know that. He was a desperate man and right now she looked like a viable option. She didn’t have a stylish bone in her body and she sure as hell didn’t want to see his face when he eventually realized it.
“I’m sorry, Max.” She tried to keep her voice cool but she could hear it shake slightly. “I just don’t think I’m the right person for this. I’m sure you won’t have a hard time finding a woman who will.”
One call to his publicist and he’d have a whole list of actresses and models beating down his door to pretend to be his girlfriend. All prettier and more talented.
His expression looked to be carved from granite and his eyes had gone ice blue. He could turn the charm on and off like a faucet. “You’re right. No problem at all. Let me lock up. I hope you don’t mind if I share your taxi to a hotel.”
Oh goody, more time with Pompous Max. Lucky her.
He might be angry now but tomorrow when things didn’t look so dark he’d be relieved, wondering what in the hell he’d been thinking. Carrie was many things – organized, practical, business-minded, predictable, even boring, but she wasn’t glamour material. The only red carpet she’d be walking down was if she bought a scarlet throw rug and placed it in her foyer. Maxwell Hayes, on the other hand, had been born to walk down a red carpet and be photographed.
Just not with her.