CHAPTER SIX
Max had sent her a text inviting her to lunch at a neighborhood pub the next day to talk about the agreement. After saying yes to his business proposal last night, her brain had been busily thinking of everything that could go wrong.
It was a long list.
At the top was the fact she wasn’t sure anyone was going to buy this.
The pub wasn’t all that busy and she easily found Max in a booth near the back. He was staring at his phone – again – and she had the most evil urge to toss it into the Thames. She loved her phone and iPad but even she didn’t lose herself in them as often as this guy did.
Clearing her throat, she slid into the booth. “Hello. Thanks for inviting me to lunch.”
He looked up and didn’t smile. He didn’t scowl or frown either though, so this was progress. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. My PR people brought by a sample contract and I thought it best if we discussed it as soon as possible.”
She picked up the menu. “You don’t have rehearsals today?”
“Not today, although I do have costume fittings this afternoon.”
They always seemed to run out of conversation quickly. Last night’s dinner had been excruciatingly quiet with both of them trying to be polite. By dessert, she was longing for when they’d just snipe at each other. At least they were talking.
The waitress came and took their order before Max pulled some rolled-up papers from his jacket pocket. “I’ve read through it and it seems straightforward. You, of course, can get an attorney if you like.”
She paged through the contract, nothing ringing any alarm bells. In her business she looked at contracts quite a bit. “Pap walks. That I expected. Public appearances. Normal. Clothes and jewels? No way. You are not buying me anything.”
“This I won’t budge on. You’re here to help me. You wouldn’t need any new clothes or jewels if you weren’t. This is a business expense as far as I’m concerned.”
“Then I’ll return everything when we’re through.”
Chuckling, he casually stretched out his legs. “And what will I do with the clothes? I can’t return them. You might as well keep them, Carrie. Consider it a parting gift, one that you will have more than earned at the end of this four-month contract.”
She’d give them back and he could donate them to charity. However, she didn’t bother wasting her breath to argue the point. He was in bossy Brit mode at the moment, so it was best to simply let him think he’d won.
“Here’s a gem. There will be no sex.” She looked up at him with a smirk. “I know I can go without it but can you?”
She was half-relieved he didn’t want to have sex with her and half-insulted. Did he only date great beauties? She’d Googled him and his ex-girlfriends and every one of them had been drop-dead gorgeous.
His ruddy cheeks answered her own question without his having said a word.
“You weren’t planning to go without sex.” She took a big gulp of the soda the waitress had set in front of her. “Man, I am so naive.”
“I wouldn’t do anything to embarrass you,” he said, shifting in his seat. “I’d be discreet as I would expect of you also should you find someone you’re interested in. Just because we don’t have sex…”
Hollywood from this angle looked sleazy.
“Ah, I get it. It’s all on the down low. Daytime friends and nighttime lovers.”
“Something like that,” he mumbled, studying his phone again while she turned her attention back to the contract. Reading further, it all looked standard. If there was such a thing when it came to a relationship. There were out-clauses at certain milestones if either of them felt it wasn’t working out in the first few months, which she was relieved to see.
“I don’t see any red flags here. Do you want me to sign now?”
He looked surprised but she had no issues with it. She dug a pen out of her purse and held it up. “Looks like I just have this one place to sign. Correct?”
“Yes, then I’ll sign it. My PR team will get you an executed copy in a day or two.”
They’d finished just in time as their meals were delivered to the table. Carrie’s stomach growled as the scent of fried fish wafted around her nose. She loved junk food. From the way Max was digging into his lunch, it looked like they finally had something in common. Maybe she could find a few more things they both liked. Puppies and rainbows, for instance.
The contract was signed. She had to make this work.
* * *
Max and Carrie were halfway through their lunch when her question came out of left field. For some reason that he couldn’t understand now, he’d thought they could glide through this showmance without really getting personal. Frankly it was an insane thought but he’d been holding on to it since the moment the idea had come to him.
“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself,” she suggested. “People are going to assume that I know quite a bit but I don’t, except for the few things I found on your Wikipedia page.”
It was like being interviewed, a task he hated. They asked the same questions over and over until he wanted to scream with frustration.
“What do you want to know?”
“What do you think I should know? What will your friends and family expect me to know?”
Drumming his fingers on the scarred wood surface of the table, he pondered her question. “I’m not sure. They’ll probably assume you know that I snore and hog the blankets. I like to read and I can only cook a few things. I do a nice baked chicken and also a pasta with red sauce. If you want anything other than that, we’ll need to call for takeout.”
Was that enough?
“Okay, that’s a start. How about you tell me about your childhood. Was it a happy one?”
“If you read my Wikipedia, you already know the answer to that.”
He’d never get used to people knowing personal things about him. It was…creepy.
“I know what you tell interviewers. But I’m asking for the real story. Did you have a happy childhood?”
“Yes, actually I did. Because I was an only child my parents doted on me and took me everywhere with them. They treated me like an adult from quite a young age. They were very encouraging about my career.”
“Your mother and father are in the business.”
“They made it seem like the greatest profession in the entire world. I never thought to be anything else. Except maybe a cowboy. I watched a lot of American westerns when I was a boy.” He took a sip of his beer. “What about you? Happy childhood?”
Carrie wrinkled her nose, a sign he was beginning to recognize. It meant she was thinking about her answer. He had to admit that he liked that about her. She didn’t just blurt out the first words that popped into her head. She tended to ponder over things before she spoke.
“I did have a happy childhood although, unlike you, I had to share my parents with Greg. He was three years older and a star athlete. I was the geeky, book smart little sister who trailed after him and had crushes on his friends.”
“I think geeky and book smart is a good thing.”
He could see her sitting in class with her red hair down her back and a pair of glasses perched on her nose. Wearing a schoolgirl uniform. Max knew enough about the States to know that wasn’t the norm but a man could dream, right?
“My parents thought it was too when I got a full-ride scholarship to college. Higher education is expensive in the States and we didn’t have tons of money growing up. My mom was a teacher and my dad worked for the power company.”
“Having a teacher for a mother must have been helpful when it came to your schoolwork.”
She rolled her eyes and bit into a chip. “What it really meant is that I could never, ever miss a day of school unless I was on death’s door. I hated that. Plus, she knew all my teachers in grade school so I couldn’t get away with anything. Nothing. If I so much as chewed a piece of gum my mother would hear about it. I was never so happy to go to middle school where I was anonymous.”
He’d bet his new Jaguar that she was the smartest kid in her class.
“So what university did you go to? What did you study?”
Popping a piece of fried fish into her mouth, she hummed in appreciation. “I did my undergrad in business and then went on to grad school and got my MBA. Oh, and I went to Stanford. That’s in California.”
Schools were different in the UK than the States, but an MBA was an MBA, and he’d heard of Stanford.
“Are you telling me that you have an MBA from Stanford? What in the bloody hell are you doing being a personal assistant?”
Her cheeks turned pink and she took her time chewing and swallowing the food in her mouth before answering. “First of all, I am not a personal assistant, not that there’s anything wrong with that. That’s just the way Paige and I describe it but my official title is Chief Operating Officer of her corporation. It’s a multimillion dollar business, by the way. I’m in charge of pretty much her whole life or anything that isn’t personal. I run her day to day business, I keep her marketing on track, I watch her sales trends, and lately I’ve begun to deal with the studio that is going to be making the Flynn movie. We employ several people that report directly to me including an accountant, an attorney, a research assistant, two virtual assistants for me, and a financial advisor. The reason I’m involved in her life is because she and I are friends, actually more like sisters. She gets buried in her writing and forgets to take care of herself. I’m organized and can help her with that.” She popped a fry into her mouth and grinned. “And she pays me a small fortune too. But after my childhood, I’ve always believed in living below your means. I could buy designer gowns but where would I wear them? It’s a little formal for the beach.”
This he hadn’t expected at all. He’d thought Carrie was…well… Dammit, he was ashamed to even think it. He’d thought she was sort of…unsuccessful. She certainly wasn’t one to flaunt her achievements.
“I apologize and stand corrected. I had no idea that you had all that responsibility. It must be a great deal of work.”
She nodded. “It means that I won’t be bored while you’re working but I do have my systems down at this point so everything should run like clockwork. My assistants are also well-trained and can deal with things in my absence if need be, although if a major decision needs to be made then I have to do it. This is Paige’s career and I take it very seriously.”
The iron-clad bond between the two women was apparent to anyone who saw them together.
“How did you two meet anyway? You’ve known her a long time, yes?”
“Noah’s mother was a friend of my mother. When I was nearing graduation I came home for spring break and they had cooked up a meeting between myself and Paige. She had just hit the New York Times then and Noah was sick. I could tell she needed someone to take control of the business side of things and to be frank, I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of putting on a suit and heels every day and working on Wall Street. She and I had an instant connection and I trusted my gut. I’ve never regretted it for a moment. I get to do all types of work and I get to do most of it in my pajamas. Of course, my parents were thrilled because it meant that I would be local.”
He wasn’t sure whether it was a good subject or not but he was curious. “So your parents haven’t been gone all that long?”
Sadness flickered across her features and her gaze skittered away, her full lips trembling. “Five years ago. They went out to see a movie and a drunk driver crossed the center line, hitting them head on at seventy miles an hour.”
He couldn’t even imagine not having his parents in his life, didn’t want to contemplate the day they passed on. She’d had to have been amazingly strong to have gone through something that tragic.
He wanted to reach for her hand but wasn’t sure she would invite physical contact. He wasn’t sure she even liked him as a person. “I’m so sorry. No one should have to deal with that.”
She turned back, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I wouldn’t have made it through without Paige. With all the shit she had going on in her own life, she dropped everything for me.”
“Was Noah…”
“He died a few months later. We sort of grieved together. It was good to have someone around that felt the way I did.”
Slapping the table, Carrie shook her finger at him. “Clever, very clever, Hamlet. I try to get to know you and we end up talking about me. I’m on to you. Now, tell me something your girlfriend would know. Like…boxers or briefs?’
He wasn’t sure why but he kind of liked it when she called him Hamlet. “Boxers.”
“Favorite book.”
“The Picture of Dorian Gray. What’s yours?”
“Scruples by Judith Krantz. Never heard of it, have you?”
“I have to admit that I have not. What’s it about?”
“Sex, mostly. It’s about a woman who becomes a rich widow and fashion icon in the seventies. My mother used to read Judith Krantz and as soon as I was old enough to sneak them into my room, so did I. I suppose you don’t approve since it’s not great literature.”
She said “literature” with a bad British accent.
“I’ll tell you what. You read Dorian Gray and I’ll read Scruples. What do you think?”
By her mischievous smile he could tell he had her. She was going to play.
“Deal, Hamlet.” She reached for her phone. “I’ll download it right now.”
Shaking his head, he tsk-tsk’d her choice. “I like real books. Books you can hold in your hand.”
Her expression turned scandalized. “Are you one of those people that sniffs your books?”
“I like the smell of old books.”
She shuddered and continued pressing buttons on her phone. “The last time I had a musty book I got an allergic reaction and had to take a Benadryl for the itching. You should think about switching to electronic books. You can carry like five-thousand books with you all in your pocket. The way you travel all the time it would be more convenient.”
He regarded her closely, perhaps for the first time, taking a close look at the woman sitting across from him. Not just her flame red hair and light brown eyes or her curvy figure and easy smile. No, he looked at her. The way her gaze darted here, there, and everywhere as if taking in every detail of her new surroundings. The way her sweater was buttoned all the way, rather prim and proper but then this was a woman who liked order and control.
Would she be like that in the bedroom?
Hold on just a minute. No way am I going to ever find that out.
A sexual relationship with Carrie was out of the question. He wanted to keep this on an even keel, no complications. Sex was a huge complication. Somebody’s feelings were bound to become involved and it would probably be Carrie’s. Women seemed to fall easier than men. They couldn’t do the casual thing very well and he doubted seriously if Carrie was a friends with benefits type. No, she was the kind that fell deeply in love and planned a future. He’d had enough of love to last him a lifetime.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” he finally said to her recommendation. “Now is there anything else you want to know?”
She placed her phone on the table and looked him straight in the eye. “I think I should know about your marriage and breakup. A girlfriend would know these things.”
She spoke the truth but that was one topic he wasn’t ready to discuss. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“Not if I don’t discuss it. Next topic.”
Sighing, she picked up a chip and dipped it in ketchup. “Fine. How about your favorite food?”
That was a question he could handle.