by Mel Curtis
“Can I ask you a question?” As if hesitant to take up more of the mogul’s time, Jenny got right to the point. She glanced down at the card Blue had given her. Not even Maddy had seen the questions before filming. “Do you like the L.A. party scene?”
“I used to really enjoy it. I was something of a hell-raiser in my day.” His dark eyes twinkled. “I was struggling to find myself in my career back then. The frustration tended to get released via my fists in some poor fool’s face.” Cal’s gaze drifted to Blue.
Maybe the stories she’d heard of Cal decking Blue’s father were true.
“But the hangovers started to make me feel old and the party goers started to look too young, so I moved on.”
“Wow.” Jenny looked a bit uncomfortable. She glanced down at the card and then blushed. “Does it matter to you how successful a woman is?”
“It’s hard to judge success. I’m interested in a woman who’s looking to the future. Do you have a plan for the future, Jenny?”
Maddy silently answered for her: Beyond making Blue’s life miserable? No, she didn’t.
Jenny’s blush deepened. “I’m still trying to figure things out.”
“You have plenty of time,” he said kindly. He could afford to be kind now that he’d essentially said she wasn’t the woman for him. What a way to be dismissed.
“Thank you,” Jenny murmured, looking like she knew this was a dead end. “Last question. If I wasn’t an heiress, how would that change your opinion of me?”
“It wouldn’t. I’m a self-made man and I judge people on who they are and what they’ve accomplished, just as I expect to be judged. If you suddenly lost all your inheritance, I’m sure you’d surprise us all with a brilliant career choice.”
“Oh,” Jenny said in a small voice.
Standing behind Jenny, out of the camera’s view, Blue tapped his watch so that Cal could see.
“Jenny.” Cal reached for her hand, the one on her water glass. “I find you very attractive.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll be waiting for your decision.” He left.
“I think I want to have Cal’s baby,” Maddy said, having bravely followed Blue out of the dining room.
“You drive me nuts.” Blue’s gaze bounced off her lips. Then he sighed. “You could do better than Cal.”
“How so?” Heaven help her if he tried to fix her up. She wrapped herself in a mental embrace from Poppa Bert. “Cal’s the ideal man – settled, mature, wealthy.” Who was she kidding? Blue was her ideal man. The floor suddenly seemed treacherously unsteady. Maddy leaned against the wall.
“It’s a façade. That man has been through more Dooley Foundation programs than you have fingers. He’s a work in progress, so you can forget about having his babies.” There was a possessive edge to his voice that made her pulse kick up a notch.
For her peace of mind, it was time to bring in Auntie Maddy. “Your questions were brilliant.” She patted his arm. “Congratulations on figuring out a way to coach these women.”
“Thank my dad.” He sounded glum.
“I prefer to thank you. Your dad had nothing to do with this.”
He scuffed his shoe on the tile, as awkward and vulnerable as she’d ever seen him. “If I’m doing so well…” He cleared his throat. “Maybe you could have dinner with me later.”
Maddy moved her hands behind her back to keep from throwing her arms around his neck and shouting, “Yes!”
Instead, she said in her Auntie Maddy voice, “Will you tell me what happened between the other night – ” In your bed. “ – and now? Will you tell me what you learned about the Rules of Attraction?”
His mouth chewed on his answer, one she didn’t want to hear when it eventually came. “No.”
Chapter 28
“How long will this take?” Cal asked Cora, pausing at a juncture in the restaurant where he could either turn toward the restrooms or head toward the bachelors’ table.
She kept a careful distance from him, trying to look calm. “Maybe another hour. Drinks are on me.”
“Plenty of time. She’s not going to choose me. And I’m not heartbroken.” Cal reached out to rest a hand on her hip, flexing his fingers into her flesh and igniting a warmth that tempted. “Should I see if the men’s room is free?”
Cora hesitated, knowing Cal had appetites that matched hers. But she didn’t like him or the way he made her feel cheap. And she was very aware of her brother and Maddy talking behind them, of the millions that were at stake for the Dooley Foundation – not to mention her freedom from the conditions of Daddy’s will.
She drew on the rarest of her assets – a patient smile – even as she drew his hand off her hip. “Cal, I’m working. Yeah, I enjoyed our brief bang. But I didn’t choose you because I like you.” A reminder of his own lines was in order. “I chose you because you were convenient and willing. That doesn’t mean I want to do it with you again.”
Over at the table, Cy applauded.
Marcus was flushing and staring at his hands.
Why can’t I fall for a nice guy like Marcus?
Because you’re a sucker for a dick, the same way Blue was a sucker for a bitch.
But Blue was changing. Maddy wasn’t a bitch, which gave Cora hope.
“Maybe I should have offered you a role in a film,” Cal whispered, leaning in close, his hot breath simultaneously sleazy and sexy over the shell of her ear. “That was an Oscar worthy speech.”
Cora stepped away with as much dignity as she could muster.
Cal was a major Hollywood cliché. Willing to screw a stranger at the crook of a finger.
But she didn’t want to think about Cal and casual sex and clichés.
Because if she dwelled on it too long, she’d wonder if she’d become a cliché, too.
Maddy had turned down his request for dinner.
She would’ve accepted if Blue was willing to share his family secrets.
Blue was in a dark mood when they began filming again. It was Cy and Jenny at the table this time.
Cy was slick, slicker than Cal.
Cal, who’d apparently dated his sister.
Although she didn’t date, so that meant…
Blue wasn’t going to think about what that meant. He had enough to worry about.
Like whether or not Cy was going to charm Jenny into a mini-date and ruin everything. The guy was a classic Hollywood player – great haircut, great suit, smooth conversationalist.
Crap. He’s me!
He ran a finger beneath the collar of his dress shirt, wiping away a light layer of sweat. Everything hinged on this working. Everything. His inheritance. The continued success of the Dooley Foundation. Maddy’s dreams. His chances at being with her ever again.
He snuck a glance at Maddy, who was watching Jenny and Cy through her camera’s viewfinder.
Cy laughed at something Jenny said. She seemed captivated by Cy’s good looks. She’d preened a bit when he’d greeted her with a kiss on each cheek. But she was wary after her stumbling experience with Cal and cut quickly through the small talk. “Do you like the L.A. party scene, Cy?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m more particular about where I go nowadays. Not just any bar will do. I like Tingle over in Westwood.” Cy’s gaze never left Jenny, but Blue knew he’d said that to get points from the Rule camp. Amber was part owner of Tingle. “I like a place with a good D.J. and great drinks.”
Cy’s personality was as unique as a stump in a clear cut forest. The question was: Did Jenny notice?
Some of the shine had come off Jenny after her first mini-date. She was less eager and more business-like. “Does it matter to you how successful a woman is?”
“Only if I’m working for her. I was raised by a stay-at-home mom, so I judge a woman by what she does with her days.”
“How sweet,” Jenny said sourly.
“But on the other hand.” Cy’s quick wit and smile had probably saved many a deal. “I represent successful, powerful women wh
o didn’t just sit back and let life hand them a bowl of cherries. They went out and earned that bowl and then some.”
Unwittingly, Cy had pierced the heart of Jenny’s insecurities. She was afraid she’d never be anything more than eye-candy. Blue wanted to high five someone. He looked to Maddy. She cast him a sidelong glance and a half smile. Trust her to know exactly what he was thinking.
Jenny bit her lip and returned her attention to the index card with questions. “If I wasn’t an heiress, how would that change your opinion of me?”
“I can’t wrap my head around that question. You are an heiress. Every man wants a beautiful woman, one who’s good in bed, and won’t drain his bank account. I’m no different, even though I’d never give up working if I married a wealthy woman.”
Jenny glanced at her card and then up at Blue, dismissing Cy. “Next?”
There was hope.
It was time to bring on the everyman – Marcus.
“Jenny.” Marcus hurried forward to shake her hand, clasping it in both of his. He wore nice slacks and a gray pinstripe button down. He wasn’t nearly as nicely dressed as the first two men. And he wasn’t nearly as comfortable in front of a camera. His gaze bounced around the room nervously as he took his seat across from Jenny. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The ladies at the home couldn’t stop speaking about you.”
Jenny pouted, just a little.
Marcus was no slouch. He noticed. “They didn’t have to remind me how pretty you are. I couldn’t get the image of you out of my head.” His answer was too shallow.
Throw the ball deep, Marcus.
Blue wished he could have coached the guy a little before this meeting. Lesson learned for next time.
Jenny graced him with a smile, but she was starting to realize there was more to people than looks. She got right down to business. “Do you like the L.A. party scene, Marcus?”
“Party scene? It’s kind of hard to get out when you have to work at six every morning. I wouldn’t be much help to my patients if I partied every night, would I?” Marcus rubbed his hands over his thighs. “I like to go out on Saturday night, maybe see a movie or hang out with friends at a bar.”
“That sounds…nice.”
Marcus beamed at her. He seemed like a good man and was clearly smitten.
“Does it matter to you how successful a woman is?” Jenny’s delivery was guarded.
“Not to me. I look at the ladies where I work and I’m amazed at what they’ve done in their lifetime, but I think I’d be just as fond of them if they’d worked on a dairy farm all their life. It’s what’s inside that’s important.”
Jenny smiled. “My mom used to say that.”
“Used to?” Marcus tread carefully. “Did she die?”
“When I was eight.”
Blue hadn’t known that. And he knew about the mole on the left side of her breast. It just reinforced that he was pond scum.
“I’m so sorry,” Marcus said. “Your dad must be quite a man to have raised you all by himself. He’s done a great job.”
Blue decided to withhold his opinion until after this mini-date.
Jenny allowed a small smile. “If I wasn’t an heiress, how would that change your opinion of me?”
“I don’t think it would. You’re sweet and pretty and kind. You have a good heart. That wouldn’t change.”
There was something authentic and farm-boyish about Marcus. He and Jenny exchanged smiles.
“I’d like to have dinner with you. Without the cameras,” Jenny announced.
Blue wanted to throw the football into the turf, do an end-zone victory dance, and release some of the pressure.
He caught sight of Maddy standing behind the camera. She was smiling at him. Take me, that smile said. Quickly, that smile said. She was bursting with energy she had no outlet for, the same as the night Ulani had decked Professor Quinby.
He took a step toward her, starting to grin.
And then Maddy’s smile faded, and she walked out.
Blue opened the door to his father’s house, keyed in the alarm code and stood in the doorway. Dad’s place had never felt empty before. It had always been loud, filled with the noise of Dooley’s laughter or a television tuned to a gossip show.
True to the stipulations of the will, Amber hadn’t changed a thing in the house. The white shag carpet, the black club chairs, the gold marbled mirror tiles on the wall. It screamed seventies time warp.
A car drove by, reminding Blue he was in the heart of paparazzi territory. A dozen celebrities lived just around the corner.
He closed the door behind him with a click and flipped on the lights.
You’d think that when the keys to your empire were hanging on your wall, you’d put them in a dark cubby. Not Dooley. He had spotlights on them.
His father had etched his secrets in colored pencil drawings of various gardens. Each featuring a different flower or plant and a cutaway of the vegetation’s roots. There were five along the entryway that spanned the living room. Another five spanned one side of the hallway. A solitary picture hung on the wall in Dooley’s office and one unframed drawing sat on the floor beneath the window. His desk blotter was covered in doodles – leaves, flowers, dogs, beaches. Scribbles Blue couldn’t decipher.
He took the unframed picture from the floor and sat at his father’s desk. That felt weird, so he took the picture into the kitchen, and sat at the kitchen table.
The word Discovery was etched across the bodies of three naked women who made up the roots of several flowering vines. His fingers traced the stalks: remove blinders, face the abyss, lessons learned. His name was on a purple petal of the lessons learned stem.
“Show me your list,” Dooley had said at this very table one morning.
Twelve year-old Blue held up a binder page, squinting because of the black eye – the result of Dooley’s vengeful ex-girlfriend T-boning them. “The good things I learned from Terry Palmer crashing her car into us.” Blue cleared his throat. “People lie to the ones they love so they don’t get hurt. Hurt women can hurt somebody. Women my dad dumps are dangerous. Don’t fall in love – ”
“Blue.” His dad’s weary sigh.
“What?” There was a double dose of pre-teen angst in Blue’s voice. And with good reason, he couldn’t shake the slow-mo replay of that woman’s triumphant face as she smashed her car into theirs.
“I was hoping you’d discover something about yourself. Maybe even about forgiveness.”
“Forgive her for nearly killing us? Why? You dumped her, which means I’m never seeing her again. That’s the way you do it, right?”
His father rubbed a hand over his face. “Just because I stopped dating her doesn’t mean she’s out of our lives. There are situations…and repercussions…”
“We’ll never see her again.” That’s the way it worked.
“Women and their…things…have a way of turning up again. Making a list of the good to come out of a bad situation helps you forgive. That’s the lesson here.”
Blue shook his head, adamant. “I want to remember so I won’t get T-boned in the future.”
He’d learned his lesson that day. He’d learned it so well, that he’d applied it to his own personal life – love women briefly, and leave before things got dangerous. There’d been no forgiveness for the woman who used her car like a weapon. But why was his name and lesson learned on Discovery? Why not on Forgiveness, as his father had implied?
He went into the hall and studied Forgiveness. The picture had no flowers, only ivy. Lessons Learned was written on a shoot writhing up from the thick plant’s root. Again, the root was a reclining woman, this one pregnant. Blue’s name was on a leaf that was brown and curled in on itself.
So his father’s methods could be applied to different areas of personal growth. Blue retrieved a notepad from his father’s office and started writing down the different areas of growth his father had depicted: Self-e
steem, Control, Choice, Love, Sexuality, Discovery, Ego, Creativity, Reinvention, Happiness, Courage and Forgiveness.
Beneath each area of growth, he jotted down the versions of tough love or technique his father had used. He was left with a list of Dooley’s secrets. The ones with his name jarred memories, some more painful than others. And he remembered the discipline of a few of his sisters’ lessons as well.
Which was all academic, because there was no handbook on how to help people grow. His father had always been creative and had probably just come up with this shit on the fly. How had he known what people needed?
Blue had been lucky with Jenny. He’d seen right away she needed to grow up. After all, he’d had Cora and her example of hell being unable to spend the money she’d taken for granted.
Portia was on deck for filming tomorrow. Could she use a dose of confidence? Courage? Happiness?
He didn’t know. If he chose one, he’d be able to narrow down the possibilities his dad had created to incite growth. But what if he chose poorly?
He had less than twenty-four hours to figure it out. He tapped his pen, feeling a wisp of memory return. He’d told Maddy something about Portia in his wrap-up portion of the interviews they’d filmed last week. Something about Portia needing to come out of her shell and take chances. She needed to discover her potential.
“Discovery it is.”
Chapter 29
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We found our man doing his relationship counseling at a wrestling match. With those quick reflexes, wouldn’t you put your life in his hands? Watch it here (link to YouTube video).
“I don’t know how they got the film,” Maddy told Blue the morning the Avengers posted Ulani’s video. The same morning they were to film Portia’s pre-date coaching session. Days after she’d painfully cut her role in his life to producer. “You believe me, don’t you?”
“Maddy, it’s happened twice. You’re the only one with the film.” Blue stared at her. She couldn’t read his expression. It panicked her. She’d always been able to read his expression.