CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
At the theatre, Gemma handed Max his coffee and a lemon poppy-seed muffin before reeling off a few business items he needed to take care of. Call his agent about that new script, remember the interview he was doing tomorrow afternoon, and call his mother.
“I’ll give her a call today.” Max leaned against a table in the backstage area where they kept the snacks. He was thinking of trading in that muffin for a chocolate chip one. “By the way, Gemma, is there anything you want to tell me?”
With a nonchalant air, his assistant shook her head. She was wearing another of her brightly colored outfits today, the pants yellow and the shirt purple. The color combination made his eyes hurt.
“I don’t think so. Will there be anything else?”
He’d given her a chance to come clean. “Actually, yes. Funny thing happened this morning. There was a gaggle of photographers outside Carrie’s home. I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that?”
The change in her was almost imperceptible but to a stage-trained actor who studied human behavior it was as bright as day. Her shoulders tensed slightly and her hand had fluttered up to cover her throat, the most vulnerable part of the human body. It was a primitive reaction but it never lied.
Unlike Gemma.
“I don’t.” She shook her head. “I don’t.”
Ah, she’d repeated her answer twice as if to emphasize her truthfulness. Another tell.
“What is Alana paying you?”
Her eyes widened and she took a step back. “Nothing. She’s not paying me anything.”
He found that hard to believe. “So you’re doing this for free? How foolish of you. She would have paid for the information you’ve been passing her.”
Gemma wasn’t the crying type so it wasn’t a surprise when she went into offense-mode.
“This is all your fault,” she spat, her normally placid expression turned venomous. “You never noticed me but Alana did.”
“I told you when I hired you that I do not get romantically involved with my employees.”
Rolling her eyes, she gave a snort of disdain. “I don’t want you. You’re way too old for me. I want to be a star. Why do you think I took this job? Because I love fetching you coffee? Get real.”
A star. He should have known. Everybody had their own hidden agenda. But there was literally no path from picking up his dry cleaning to winning an Academy Award. What had Gemma been thinking?
“You want to be an actress? Then be one. You want to be a celebrity assistant? Do that. But the two don’t have anything to do with one another.”
Gemma tossed her tablet computer on the table hard enough to make him wince. Shit, his entire life was in that thing and if it malfunctioned he had no idea if she kept his schedule and contacts backed up somewhere.
“Alana said that several of your assistants had gone on to get big acting jobs.”
Alana? Fuck.
Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck where a pain was beginning to make itself known. For the millionth time he wondered how he had ended up marrying a woman like Alana.
Right. His dick.
“Unfortunately for you, Gemma, that is pure fabrication. None of my assistants prior to you have received any roles of note because of their employment with me.”
Gemma shook her head. “No, she said that they’re on their way to big things. She said she’d get me an audition with Guillermo Del Toro.”
Christ. This was a fucking mess.
“Alana can’t even get herself an audition with Del Toro. I’m sorry you believed her.”
His non-crying assistant now had fat tears sliding down her face as she took off those oversized glasses to wipe her eyes. “I can’t believe this. I did everything she asked me to do.”
Scraping a hand down his face, Max gave a half groan and half sigh. “So you never wanted to be an assistant and see the other side of the business?”
That’s what she had told him in the interview. He really needed to pay more attention in those things.
“No,” she answered in the most forlorn tone. With black mascara streaks on her cheeks, Gemma looked sad indeed. “I’ve always wanted to be a star.”
She kept saying star. Not actress, which made Max wonder if it was the lights and glamour she was interested in more than the work of deconstructing a character and then bringing them to life for an audience.
“What exactly did Alana ask you to do?”
Max had his suspicions but he wanted to be sure when he threw this all up in Alana’s face. Per their prenuptial, a stunt like this was going to cost her.
Sniffling, Gemma wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Keep track of where you were all the time and let her know. Keep her informed of meetings with future directors and producers, plus interviews and public appearances. And Carrie, of course.”
What had just seemed like a pain in the ass before was now something far different. Anger built inside of him, making his temples pound painfully.
“Carrie? What about her?”
Gemma had retreated to a metal folding chair and she shifted in it, uncomfortable with the question. “Watch her. What she’s doing and where she’s going.”
That shit stopped today.
“Tyler Gaylord.”
He didn’t phrase it as a question. He knew for sure.
Tears started all over again. “I’m friends with Gaylord’s stylist and she overheard him making plans to get a key from Amy and Mike. We had a drink and she told me about it. I already knew that Carrie was having lunch with Amy that day.”
He gritted his teeth and wondered what Gemma said to other people about him. “And you told Alana?”
She nodded, sobbing pitifully into her shirt. “Are you going to sack me?”
Gemma had to be kidding. What did she want? An Employee of the Month plaque?
“What do you think I should do?”
She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. “I think you should help me get an acting job. You’re a huge star and have a lot of clout.”
Max was fucking sick and tired of people – mostly women – wanting something from him, using him. Despite evidence to the contrary, he was a sensitive human being who wanted to be liked for himself. Too many relationships in his life were about what they could get from him.
“If you want to be a star,” he began and Gemma’s eyes lit up with hope. “Then you need to be ready to work hard and make your own opportunities.”
Her smile immediately turned down.
“I started at the bottom and worked my way up,” he continued. “I took any job in theatre I could get, often working for free. I studied the craft and sought advice from those more experienced than myself. Even now I don’t rest on my laurels. I endeavor to make every performance better than the last. This profession isn’t about fame, Gemma, it’s about creation.”
Standing, she slid the strap of her backpack over her shoulder. “You’re a selfish asshole. Alana was right. You won’t help anyone. I guess you’re afraid of the competition. Well, fuck you. When I’m a star I’ll ruin you, and I won’t rest until I do. You’ll wish you’d been nicer to me.”
The young woman stomped out of the backstage area and hopefully out of the theatre. She had much to learn about the acting profession and if she wasn’t careful it was going to chew her up and spit her out. What she didn’t realize? He was trying to help her. He was happy to assist those who were putting in the work, busting their asses. But those only interested in Twitter followers and parties? They’d have to get there on their own.
“And a lovely morning to you too,” he muttered, picking up the discarded tablet. If it worked it would be a miracle. He was due for one too. He pressed the on button and nothing happened. Zip. Nada. Zilch.
His entire life was stuck in this hunk of plastic. Now what?
* * *
“Can you fix it?”
Max hovered impatiently over Carrie’s shoulder as she tapped away at his laptop computer. Apparently he’d fired Gemma this morning and being unused to terminating employees he hadn’t had the foresight to get the tablet from her before he told her the bad news.
“I don’t know but please back up. Your hot breath is uncomfortable on my neck.”
It wasn’t really but his nearness had set off alarm bells that were loud and insistent. As Max had begun to show her his authentic self, her attraction to the movie star had deepened. She’d long passed enjoying his looks superficially and now she was well and truly besotted. The only answer was to keep him somewhat at arms’ length.
“Sorry,” he apologized instantly but barely budged from his perch right behind her. “Have you found anything yet?”
“I don’t know.” She clicked around the file folder structure. “You said that Gemma backed up her tablet to your laptop so you would always be in sync with each other, but you didn’t change the password after you fired her. It looks like she went in here and tried to delete a bunch of stuff.”
A string of expletives fell from his well-shaped lips. “I had my accountant mail her a check for what I owed her but I should have held on to it until she fixed the mess she made.”
“I don’t think that’s legal, Hamlet, although I’m unfamiliar with the laws in this country. But generally you have to pay people what you owe them whether they destroy your life or not.”
A smile spread across her face and the heady buzz of triumph had her chuckling evilly. Gemma was a smart young woman. But not smart enough. Carrie had been around this block a time or two.
“I got it,” she crowed, throwing a mental fist pump into the air. “This software package automatically backs up a copy every night at midnight. She got rid of the live version but she forgot about the spare. I can restore it but any changes made since then won’t be there. Is that okay?”
She was amused to see Max doing a little jig behind her, his precious dignity be damned. If he’d shown her this side of him from day one… No, don’t think about that. She’d be his willing slave and that would be bad. Oh so very bad.
“It’s bloody fantastic. There shouldn’t be any changes since midnight.” He was grinning and laughing like a loon. “I can’t believe you fixed it. It’s all going to be alright.”
It took mere seconds to restore everything, then she plugged in the spare tablet computer she was letting him borrow so it could sync with the software. This way he could be mobile.
“Since this is the first sync it’s going to take awhile.” She stood up with a satisfied smile. “We should probably go ahead and eat dinner. Hopefully it will be finished by then.”
“You are amazing,” he stated, grabbing her into a big bear hug, his strong arms wrapped snugly around her body. Max’s delicious scent hit her right in the olfactory senses and she couldn’t stop herself from taking a second whiff. No man should smell this good. It ought to be illegal. It was certainly unfair. “You’ve saved my life. Seriously. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
She opened her mouth to tell him it was no big deal but their gazes locked and the world around her seemed to stand still. Sound disappeared. The room blurred. Every molecule in her body was focused on this one man that was driving her crazy. One second she wanted to throttle him and the next she wanted to kiss him.
Right now it was the latter and she was getting desperate. It appeared she wasn’t the only one with lascivious thoughts on their mind when his tongue snaked out and wet his lips. His head dipped down, moving inexorably closer, one millimeter at a time. Their breaths mingled and she could swear she felt the heavy drum of his heartbeat as he pressed her closer to his heated frame.
This is it. It’s finally going to happen for real.
The chime on his phone jarred them both back to his living room and the present. She thought she heard a low growl from Max’s throat but it might have been her imagination. Or it might have been her. She was frustrated and wanted to tell whomever had called him that they had seriously lousy timing.
His gaze still hot, he fumbled with his phone and pressed it to his ear. He didn’t seem done with their “moment” quite yet.
“Hello, Mum. It’s good to hear from you.”
Nothing like a parental intervention to throw cold water on any hanky panky. Chilled as if she’d been doused with icy water, the arousal that had been so acute only moments before dissolved.
She wasn’t the type for casual liaisons at this point in her life. She wanted to care about the man in her bed. They had a contract and she would fulfill it. But anything more was simply not in her best interests. This infatuation was just a passing fancy. She’d get over Max. Eventually.