by Desiree Holt
Ryan watched Kaitlyn walk back into her house before he trudged up his stairs and opened his own door. He threw his cell on the counter and turned to glare at Walt.
“So what’s up?”
“First, you always need to be within cell phone contact. That’s nonnegotiable.”
“Fine. But I can tell there’s something else. Spill it.”
Walt nodded his head toward Kaitlyn. “Who’s the broad?”
Ryan could feel his blood pressure rising. “She’s not a broad. She’s a very nice female who happens to be renting the cottage next to me. Why?”
“What does she want?”
“Want? What do you mean, what does she want?” Breathe, Ryan.
“Everyone wants something, Ryan. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” He took his phone out of his pocket again. “We’ll have to find out what little Miss Nosy Neighbor wants.”
“You aren’t going over there to give her the third degree.” Ryan was ready to punch his agent. He wanted to keep Kaitlyn out of this at all costs.
“Don’t have to,” Walt smirked. “I snapped a picture of her. As we speak, I’m sending it to our private investigator to check her out.”
“You what?” Now Ryan was sure his blood pressure would go through the roof. “You can’t invade someone’s privacy like that.” All he needed was for Walt to dig around and find out whatever Kaitlyn’s personal problem was and air it out. That was not going to happen.
“Calm down.” Walt held up his hand. “He’s very discreet. No worries.”
“You can’t barge into someone’s life like that,” he protested.
“I’m not barging. I’m protecting you. That’s what I get paid for.”
“And now I’m paying you to get the hell out of here.” Ryan scowled at hm. “I have plans for the day.”
“I assume with the young lady next door.” He tapped another message on his phone. “Why don’t I take you all out to breakfast? That way I cam get to know her a little.”
“Not on your life.” Ryan slammed his hand down on the kitchen counter.
“Come on, Ryan. If she’s harmless what’s the problem?”
“The problem is I want you out of here so I can go back to hiding away, as you put it. I do not intend to involve her in my problems.”
“But…”
“I’m sorry you drove all the way down here for nothing, Walt. I’ll keep my phone charged from now on. So please. Get in the damn car and go back to Tampa.”
Ryan realized he was being somewhat of an ass to his agent, but the whole situation was pissing him off. Sneaking out of town, hiding away down here, having Walt chew his ass out for nothing. And he wanted the man gone so he could get back to breakfast with Kaitlyn.
“Listen, asshole.” Walt glowered at him. “I’m trying to save your career here.”
“Then go home and do it.”
The other man made a visible effort to control himself. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. I’ll let you know what I find out about your cute little neighbor. If she’s trouble, I’m getting your ass out of here so fast you won’t know what hit you.”
“And taking me where?” Ryan demanded.
“Wherever I have to so you have no contact with female humanity.”
The two men glared at each other. Then Walt shook his head and walked out. Ryan stood in the doorway watching him until the Navigator backed out and headed down Pelican Lane toward Estero Boulevard.
He took the quickest shower he’d taken in a long time, skipping a shave altogether. Yanking on a shirt and cutoffs, he slid his feet into his shoes and headed toward Kaitlyn’s.
“It’s open,” she called when he knocked on the door.
When Ryan walked in, Kaitlyn was standing in the kitchen looking out the window over the sink. Looking directly at his house. And the driveway. And the place where Walt’s Navigator had been parked.
”Your friend doesn’t seem very friendly,” she commented. “I could hear you shouting even from here.”
Great. Just great.
“My friend has very poor manners and a boatload of problems. Try to forgive him for his lack of manners.”
She shrugged. “Not a problem.”
“Yes,” he argued, “it is. He behaved rudely. I apologize for him.”
Kaitlyn turned to face him. “He didn’t stay very long.”
“I don’t like surprise visitors and he didn’t have all that much to say. Besides.” He ran his hands up the length of her arms to her face and cradled her cheeks in the palm of his hands. “I’d much rather spend the time with you.”
He pressed his lips gently to hers, surprised when there was no answering pressure.
“What is it?” he asked. “I’m sorry the jerk disrupted our morning.”
“Does he live nearby? Why hasn’t he visited you before this?” She studied his face as if trying to read his secrets. “Ryan, are you in some kind of trouble? Is that why you’re hanging out here for no apparent reason?”
Was she worried about him? Was that what this was about?
”Taking a little break from work,” he told her. “That’s all. Now can we please forget about this unpleasant little episode and head out for breakfast?” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Arguing with my friends gives me an appetite.”
“Sure. Let me put on some shoes and get my purse.”
But the easy atmosphere between them, the slow intimate connection and sexual satisfaction that had wrapped itself around them for days had disappeared. Ryan could tell she was doing her best to get past it, but the look in her eyes was still a troubled one and conversation between them was stilted.
When they returned to Pelican Lane, he started up the stairs to her cottage, but she stopped him.
“I think I need a little time by myself this morning, Ryan. I have some things I need to take care of that I haven’t been so attentive to lately.”
“Kaitlyn, I told you. This guy had a wild hair up his butt about something. I think he figured since I was hanging out here by myself he’d show up and we could party. I told him to get lost.”
She nibbled her lower lip, the image so sexy his cock swelled and pressed against his fly. He was glad his T-shirt hung low enough to cover it.
“Okay. But I really do have to do some stuff.”
“What stuff?” He’d been with her most of the time since that first night and she hadn’t been doing “stuff.”
“Oh, a couple of things I’ve neglected,” she repeated. Then she smiled at him, although it looked a little forced. “Maybe we could go for a walk on the beach this afternoon. I’m still not up to running but a walk would be nice.”
He relaxed a little. “Okay. Sounds great. Call me when you’re ready.”
She nodded and went inside.
Damn! There suddenly seemed to be an invisible wall between them, frustrating him. Okay, so the scene with Walt in the driveway hadn’t been warm and fuzzy, but it had nothing to do with her. Or had she heard Walt’s little temper tantrum about her identity, and bits and pieces of the lecture?
No. He gave himself a mental headshake. Impossible.
Still, an uneasy feeling settled itself in his stomach and wouldn’t go away. Not even while he did some chores around the house. Not when he tried to lose himself in television. No matter what, it hung on like a barnacle.
Then, at one o’clock, when impatience and edginess drove him to reach for his phone to call Kaitlyn and see if she was ready, the phone chimed in his hand. He looked at the screen. Walt. Wow. The guy couldn’t have been back in Tampa very long. What now?
“What now?” he asked.
“You should listen to me more often, my friend,” his agent said. “I have some news about your little girlfriend next door to you and you aren’t going to like it. Better start packing right away.”
*****
Kaitlyn refilled her water glass and carried it back to the dining room table where she had her laptop set up. This morning’s episode with Ryan’s frie
nd, whoever he was, still had her unsettled, and she wasn’t sure exactly why. It couldn’t have anything to do with her. She didn’t even know who the guy was. Still, she’d been edgy ever since she stepped outside and caught the scene in Ryan’s driveway.
She’d certainly heard them shouting at each other, loud enough to carry outside his house. Okay, so she’d opened the kitchen window and shamelessly tried to eavesdrop. But the words were still too muffled for her to make out anything. She had an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach that her magic interlude with Ryan was about to come to an unpleasant stop.
With a sigh, she tapped her computer screen back to life and went back to her chore at hand. She was beginning to think no one was ever going to hire her again. It both startled and frightened her to realize how much power and influence James Renzulli had.
She pulled up her list of publications she’d been working on—way too extensive to her mind—and decided to contact some of them again. There were a few who’d said to get back in a couple of weeks and she’d put an asterisk next to their names. Maybe they liked her resume and were waiting to test the Renzulli waters. To see if everything had died down.
She had just begun to compose a new email when her cell rang. The readout showed Liz’s smiling face on the screen.
“Hey, kiddo,” she greeted her friend. “How come you aren’t at work today?”
Being a sort of beach bum not to mention letting herself become totally absorbed in Ryan had screwed with her calendar. She wasn’t sure which day of the week it was any more until she looked at her calendar icon.
“Taking a long lunch hour,” Liz told her. “We haven’t talked in a few days so I wanted to check up on you. How’s it going now?”
Kaitlyn sighed. “Still nothing on the job front. Next I’m going to get a list of all the smaller publications and try them.”
“Good idea.” Liz snorted “Ratzulli can’t control everything, right?”
“I sure hope not or I might have to move to Siberia.”
“I’m crossing my fingers. Something is sure to break for you.”
“From your lips.” Kaitlyn sighed. She wished she could talk to Kaitlyn about the little scene that morning, but she hadn’t even given her a hint about Ryan. She knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. They were two people sharing a lot but not their last names. Nothing more. When this was over it was over.
“I’m going to do a littler digging around,” Liz told her. “Ratzulli doesn’t control or influence everything in the world. I have friends I can reach out to.”
“Liz, don’t—“ Kaitlyn began.
“Strictly for informational purposes,” Liz rushed to say. “Maybe find some leads that aren’t out there on the World Wide Web.”
“Well, okay.” Kaitlyn sat back in her chair. “At this point, any help would be greatly appreciated.”
“Good. I’ll call you sometime tomorrow and let you now if I find out anything.”
She was lucky to have such a good friend, Kaitlyn thought, putting the phone back down and turning to the computer again. She had no idea how long she sat there, revising her resume, pulling up lists of publications as far away as Nebraska—yes, she would even go to Nebraska if she could get a job. Hours passed without her realizing it.
She was taking a break, giving her tired eyes a rest when there was a heavy pounding on her door.
“Kaitlyn?” Ryan’s voice roared from outside. “Kaitlyn, open the damn door. We have to talk.”
Kaitlyn’s stomach cramped, and the unpleasant feeling blossomed into a full-blown anxiety attack. What on earth was going on? She yanked open the door to see a fuming Ryan standing on her porch.
“What’s the problem, Ryan? Why are you shouting?”
He pushed past her into the living room and stood with his hands clenched into fists, anger cutting deep grooves in his face.
“Nice little act you’ve been putting on, Kaitlyn Reese.” He spit her name out like a piece of distasteful food.
“What?” Oh, god. How had he found out her name? Had he dug up any of the stuff Renzulli had been smearing out there? But wait? Why would he even care? It had nothing to do with him.
“Have you been taking notes all this time? Compiling your nasty little information? Mentally rubbing your hands that you’d tracked Ryan McCabe down and were going to write the exposé of the year? Maybe of the century?
She stared at him unable to comprehend anything he said. “Are you crazy? What are you talking about? I didn’t even know your last name until you told me right now.”
“Oh, you’re good, I’ll give you that. Did you laugh at how easily you got me into bed? Were you hoping to trick me into telling you the “real” story? Write an expose for that rag you work for?”
Okay, something was very, very wrong here.
“I do not have the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Are you on some kind of drugs?”
His face got so red she was afraid he’d pop a blood vessel. “The guy at my house this morning was Walt Alston, my agent. He—”
“Your agent?” She lifted her eyebrows. “Are you an actor of some kind?”
“You can cut the act, missy. You’ve been caught out.” He shook his head. “It’s a damn good thing Walt took a picture of you with his cell phone and sent it to the investigator he has working on my problem. It didn’t take him long to find out who you are and what your pathetic story is.”
“He took a picture of me?” She whispered the words. “Did he post it somewhere on the Internet?” Oh, god. If people knew where she was, Renzulli might— Might what? What else could he possibly do to her?
“How did you even find out I was here?” he demanded. “Who did you bribe? You must have given them a lot of money to get a place right next to me.”
“Will you please stop shouting at me? I still have no idea what you’re talking about. How could I find out where you were when I didn’t even know your last name until today? And why would I even be interested?”
He snorted. “Give me a break. I think everyone in the universe knows the story of Ryan McCabe and the psycho bitch who tore up his house and hers then accused him of doing it.”
She heard a tiny little click in her brain. Vaguely she remembered Liz telling her about a big time football player who had gone on a rampage when his latest girl friend dumped him. But not being a huge football fan she’d paid no attention to the name so nothing had rung a bell with her.
“Ryan, please.” She shoved her hands in the front pockets of her shorts. “I don’t know how to make you believe this was nothing but a strange coincidence. I have my own problems. I—”
“Oh, yeah.” He gave her a look of disgust. “I know all about that. Got fired, did you, missy? Thought to use a story about me to get yourself reinstated with your slime ball of a boss?”
Okay, that did it. She was done apologizing.
“First of all, I wouldn’t go back to work for that jackoff under any circumstances. Secondly, the reason I wouldn’t is because he’d wanted me to do a story similar to that about someone who didn’t deserve it. I refused. Hence, the firing.”
“How noble of you.”
“I don’t care any more if you believe me or not. If that’s all you think about me after the last couple of weeks together, then get the hell out of here. Right now.”
“Oh, I’m going,” he assured her. Out of the house and out of Ft. Myers Beach. Don’t try to run me to ground again. And if you print anything about me, be assured we will sue your ass off.” He walked out and slammed the door.
Kaitlyn stood there, shaking with anger. How dare he? How the hell did he dare accuse her without even asking her anything? With all the time they’d spent together could he really believe she was that kind of person? What an unbelievable ass!
When she’d calmed down to a reasonable level, she fixed herself a cup of coffee and sat down at her laptop again. One way or the other, she’d get to the bottom of this, and roast Ryan Calhoun’s ass.
Chapter Eight
Kaitlyn pushed her chair back from the table and stood up, stretching. She was still wearing yesterday’s clothes and felt beyond grubby. She’d also slept on the couch off and on, too focused on what she was doing to crawl into bed and conk out completely. She was still more angry than she remembered being since Ed told her she was fired but she had to admit Ryan McCabe had gotten a raw deal.
The first thing she’d done was meticulously dig up everything written about his current problem. No wonder he was hiding out in a cottage in Ft. Myers Beach. Then she began tracing his history with women.
Oh, he was a playboy all right. He’d parlayed his talent and star status with the Tampa Bay Rough Riders into the unofficial title of bachelor of the decade. But, try as she might, she couldn’t find one story that indicated he was anything other than that. No stories of brawls in the media. No ragging on him about his behavior in social media. A lot of men might be envious of his status and appeal and a lot of women probably cried in their wine because he either didn’t date them or broke it off before they wanted.
But… Without exception, all the women interviewed in previous articles had spoken of him as a gentleman. She dug back as far as five years, searching archives and using every Internet search engine, and there was nothing to support the kind of behavior Marlo Andrade had accused him of. So why had everyone been so quick to accept her accusations? The woman must be one hell of an actress to convince people that her story was true.
She wondered where he was now. Had he gone back to his home in Tampa? The stories that had popped up in the past few weeks had all indicated he was hiding out at his house on Tampa’s exclusive Davis Islands. Since he’d actually been in Ft. Myers Beach, she assumed his agent or someone had a guy living in his house to fool the media.
On the one hand, she felt sorry for him having to deal with this. On the other, her snarky self wanted to tell him if he wasn’t such a ladies’ man he might not have brought this on himself. But then she recalled how he’d been during their time together. He was a giving and sensitive lover who always treated her with respect. And she didn’t know too many men who would have waited on her literally hand and foot when she’d sprained her ankle. He’d been genuinely concerned and very caring. She was due to see the doctor again to get it checked out but she knew what he’d tell her. No swelling, no damage and only a little residual pain, which was continuing to ease.