High Tide

by Michelle Mankin

  “Excuses, Hollie. We have the rest of the afternoon to get you ready.” She tucked a loose, perfectly curled strand of her gray hair behind her diamond-studded ear.

  “But I have a photo shoot today. A pile of potential contracts to go over. And a two-hour workout scheduled.”

  No gym. No trainer. I was out of shape. Evading my stepfather, food, shelter, safety—those had been the priorities for Fanny and me until Ash had opened up his home and his bank account to help us.

  “Your day is hardly unmanageable. Let’s start with the Alluring magazine cover.” Tapping her chin, she said, “I can’t reschedule. We were lucky to get the cover on such short notice. But you can put off your public statement about your next project.” She removed her glasses and folded the sides. “We’ll table that until tomorrow. As for your workout, I could ask you potential interview questions while you’re training.”

  “Hardly.” I made a scoffing sound under my breath. She’d obviously never been through one of Ollie Sanders’s workout/torture sessions. Breathing was hard enough. Death was a possibility. Talking would be next to impossible.

  “During lunch then. It won’t look good if you back out of a commitment at the last minute.” Olivia reached across the narrow table and touched my arm, softening the reprimand.

  “I realize that.” I sighed. But just the idea of trying to deflect an unscrupulous interviewer like Besille nauseated me.

  “You don’t want to act in any way that will give credence to what your stepfather is saying about you.”

  “What is he saying?”

  “That you’re emotionally unstable. That you’re too immature to handle your own finances. That you misconstrued the events the night you and Fanny fled.”

  “My mind is perfectly sound. I’ll be eighteen and legal soon. He doesn’t get to determine my maturation status.” My heart racing, I paused to take in a breath. “He knows exactly what he did.” Tears filled my eyes. I tried not to think about it.

  A shadow suddenly fell over me, and I turned my head. Cash had moved directly behind my chair. The last time I’d glanced over at him, he’d been guarding the entrance. He was so silent and stealthy, I hadn’t noticed him changing positions.

  But why had he moved so close? Did he sense how upset I was? Did he mean to protect me from my own emotions, the way he protected me physically?

  Not possible, unfortunately.

  Olivia gave me a serious look. “The truth will come out when you have your day in court. Until then, we need to project calm, stay the course we have set, and control the narrative.”

  “It’ll take a miracle for us to control anything.” I twisted my hands together. “He has his own media-streaming company to spout his propaganda, and contacts in his corner at all the other top outlets. Everyone in this town wants to curry his favor. No one wants to risk speaking out against him.”

  “Yet you are, and I’m proud of you.”

  “Thank you.” I nodded. It felt good to have her support. But it didn’t take away my fear.

  “More witnesses are following your example and stepping forward each day. Andrew Hart is an excellent attorney. He doesn’t take on a case he doesn’t think he can win. You have your sister, Ashland Keys, his friends who have become your friends in Ocean Beach, and you have your friend Ernie Caballero here in LA on standby to support you. You need only ask, and each one would come running. That’s invaluable.”

  “I know.” I dropped my chin to my chest.

  “You focus entirely too much on the negative, Hollie. Any task seems impossible if you count only obstacles and not advantages. And you must realize that even a man as powerful as your stepfather can’t get away without consequences for the atrocious things he has done forever.”

  “Karma.” I could only pray that he’d get what he deserved. “Eventually.”

  “We hasten that eventuality when we agree to and keep our appointments on shows like Carter Besille’s.”

  “You’re right.” I lifted my chin and stopped wringing my hands. “I’ll do it.”

  Relaxing slightly, Olivia leaned back in her chair. “We need to use every forum available to us for you to speak the truth. You were brilliant at the press conference. We’ve been trending high and favorably in social media since you told your story. Stick to the type of details you shared then. You and Fanny on the streets of OB, starving, sick, afraid of your stepfather and terrorized by gang members.”

  She flattened her lips in distaste. “It was horrible what you went through. Samuel Lesowski is the villain in this piece. You,” she pointed at me with her glasses, “are the beautiful damsel in distress. Continue to play your part. Take the appearances and the advice I give you. And trust me, long before you have your day in court, we’ll have everyone rooting for you.”

  “Excellent, baby. Fantastic. I love you up on the riser, in this dress with your hair down.”

  Frederick, the gray-bearded and debonair Alluring magazine photographer with no last name—he was too big a deal for that—focused his camera on me and circled his other hand in the air to let me know to continue holding my pose.

  I wanted to ask if we were almost done. We’d been at it for over an hour, and I was getting tired. No jetting off to some exotic locale for this shoot—we were in my bedroom at the hotel. As predicted, I’d been trapped indoors all day.

  A white sheet between two poles served as a green screen behind me. The photographer was in front of me, and his assistant hovered on the sidelines, which meant he stood by the window with the drapes drawn, alongside my stony-faced bodyguard.

  Three outfit changes so far, each dress prettier than the last. All glamorous, formfitting, and flattering. Obviously, Olivia had passed on my exact measurements to the magazine. The designer’s name wasn’t marked on the clothing. But whoever it was knew what they were doing.

  A minidress with frayed cuffs and hem constructed of black, blue, and metallic tweed, then a little black dress with an intricate sheer lace over a solid bandeau silk top and mid-thigh skirt, and now a clingy jersey material in the purist white that tied at my shoulders. It clung to my breasts, nipped my narrow waist, and flowed loose around my calves.

  I’d glanced over after changing into each outfit to see if Cash had liked them. More specifically, if he liked me wearing any of them.

  But if he had any opinion at all, I couldn’t tell. His expression hadn’t changed.

  My conclusion? Apparently, the dresses weren’t as flattering as I thought.

  “Hand on your hip now, baby,” Frederick said. His thick lips curved as I complied with his direction. “Yes, that’s it. Stick out your tits. Wet your lips and part them slightly. But don’t look at me. Gaze to the side. I want you contemplative.”

  I did as he instructed, my gaze coming to a contemplative halt on my handsome bodyguard. If Cash cared that I was staring at him—again, my attention had drifted to him more than a few times today—he didn’t let on.

  It wasn’t my fault, this fascination. Not really. It was just that proximity draped our time together in intimacy.

  We were basically living together, and that closeness made him seem like more than a bodyguard, made his concern feel real. When he knocked on my door first thing in the morning to check on me. When he stood protectively behind me during my meeting with Olivia. When the three of us had lunch together, and he listened to Olivia prep me for Besille.

  He was a serious, solicitous shield from harm, but I was beginning to think of him as my shield from harm. When in reality, he wasn’t my anything.

  “No, no, no.” Frederick lowered his camera. “I don’t know where your mind just went.” He pursed his lips in displeasure. “But I need you sexy. Think naughty naked things, baby.”

  Naked thoughts? About Cash?

  That body.

  Those muscles.

  Without the blazer, the button-down, and the khakis . . .

  Oh my!

  As if he’d heard my private exclamation, Cash’s arct
ic-blue eyes suddenly focused on me. Our gazes locked for a long moment, and then his expression changed. It didn’t soften, but it sharpened in a way that made my heart race. A fire flared in his eyes, melting the ice.

  My breath hitched. I felt controlled, captured, caught.

  Maybe he wasn’t as unaffected by me as I thought.

  “That’s it, baby.” Frederick’s camera motor whirred away. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, you have just the look I want. Aphrodite on her pedestal. The goddess of love aglow. Reel him in, that lover of yours.”

  Cash turned away. Just as quickly as that fire rose, it flickered and went out. A blast of icy humiliation doused my cheeks as I watched him dip a long finger into his collar like he had earlier in the morning.

  He’s not interested, Hollie. Snap out of it. You embarrassed him again.

  “She’s underage, Frederick.” The assistant hissed the warning. “Handsome prince. Fairy tales. Dream dates. High school prom. No naked stuff.”

  “My bad, baby.” Frederick dropped to a knee on the carpet for a different angle. “Only appropriate romantic thoughts, like Henry says.”

  I frowned. What good was being on my own and just a week shy of eighteen if I couldn’t think whatever I wanted to? Do whatever I wanted to?

  “Oh yes. This is good. The narrowed gaze, the heightened cheek color. Now you’re a defiant stunner. One who doesn’t like to be told what to do.”

  I didn’t, not really. But I tended to buckle to stronger personalities. My stepfather. Fanny. Olivia.

  My brow dipped. Was my people-pleasing tendency a habit I could change, or a personality trait I was forever stuck with?

  “What’s your worry, baby?” Frederick asked. “You’re frowning.”

  I quickly tried to smooth my features.

  “We’ve been at it a while, Frederick.” Henry pushed away from the wall and stretched out his hand. “Let me have the Canon. I think we have some usable shots. Why don’t we give the poor girl a break?” The previously unnamed assistant joined the one-name photographer. “I’ll go outside with you while you have a smoke.”

  “Yes, that sounds fantastic. We’ll be right back, baby,” Frederick said on his way out of the bedroom, his hand flourished high in the air and his assistant trailing behind him.

  “You’ve been abandoned.” Cash appeared in front of me, his gaze shadowed and his expression inscrutable. “Let me help you down.”

  “Thank you,” I said, then fumbled inwardly. We were only inches apart and almost eye to eye, courtesy of my pedestal.

  See me, I begged silently in the secret part of my heart. As more than just your client.

  “I was just considering how to get down from here.”

  “Happy to assist you, ma’am.”

  “Yes, of course you are. I’m grateful for that, really, but . . .”

  How was this going to work? Where would he put his hands? Where would I put mine?

  My imagination short-circuited. I felt hot and flushed everywhere, just from the idea of him touching me. His body wasn’t chiseled from ice. It couldn’t be and radiate so much heat.

  “You okay?” Cash looked so eager to please. So handsome. His eyes were a bright brilliant aquamarine with pixelated sapphire. Fluid like the ocean. Solid like the gemstone. Soothing somehow, like the sea.

  When I didn’t answer, his brow creased. “You seem a little unfocused. You aren’t going to faint, are you?”

  “Of course not,” I said with a huff.

  He narrowed his eyes on mine. “You don’t eat enough to feed a bird.”

  “Four hundred calories.”

  “What?” His brows rose in confusion.

  “I consumed four hundred calories already today. I can’t have any more food until dinner. I’m on a diet. Olivia’s orders.”

  His expression softened. “You don’t need to be on a diet.”

  “I do,” I insisted.

  “You don’t.”

  “I have to be.”

  “You don’t have to do any such thing.” His amazing eyes danced. “Stubborn girl. Once I get you off this box, I’ll tie you to a chair. Hand-feed you. Make you eat some real food for a change, diet be damned.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  My heart raced as if I’d been chased a great distance. The thought of being restrained by him and his hand going anywhere near my mouth made me dizzy. Unbalanced on my perch, I swayed.

  “I’ve got you.” His hands on my waist, he caught me right before I tumbled. He lifted me into the air, then set me on the floor as if I weighed nothing. Steadying me, his firm grip was an inescapable snare.

  “Thank you.” Something inside me shifted as I peered up at him, and he gazed down at me. I curled my fingers into the polyester-blend lapels of his navy blazer and held on tight. I had to hold on to something. In his arms, I suddenly felt light enough to float away.

  “You have an amazing figure.” His fingers flexed deeper into the fabric at my waist.

  I liked his words and the way his touch made me feel claimed. My skin tingled beneath the sumptuous silk.

  “I need to lose inches,” I said quickly, babbling. “Get in better shape before my next role.”

  “Your shape couldn’t be any better.” Rocks tumbled in his voice. “Don’t change a thing.”

  I spun in a quarry of sensation, the reasoning part of my brain turned to slurry, but then my eyes widened at his words. They were so . . . affirming.

  The space between the beats of my heart seemed to expand. Was the shadow cast by time lengthening? It seemed as though the entire world stopped rotating for a single hushed moment.

  “What?” I pulled in a breath to clear my head, but it only made my thoughts fuzzier. His scent was an intoxicating blend of sandalwood from his cologne, lemon from all the iced tea he drank, and his own unique masculine musk. When combined with the strawberry bath gel Fanny had formulated for me, it made me feel like I was alone with him on a summer picnic.

  “You’re perfect, Hollie.”

  “You’ve been so reserved,” I said in a puzzled whisper. “If you felt this way all along, why not say something before now?”

  “It wouldn’t be professional. But with you looking like you are right now, I had to say something.” His hands glided lower, his thumbs brushing hypnotically back and forth over my hips.

  Heat flared inside me unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. How could a man I’d known for so short a time make me feel so much?

  Gazing into his eyes, I didn’t find an answer, only gentle concern and hesitant compassion.

  “You weren’t what I expected,” he said. “I wasn’t prepared.”

  “Prepared for what?”

  “You.” Beneath the oceanic surface of his eyes, a fire smoldered.

  “I wasn’t prepared either.”

  Had I gotten it wrong? Maybe I was too cynical. Maybe there was hope for something real outside of my insular circle of Hollywood acquaintances.

  “Of course you weren’t. How could you be?” His gaze flared brighter, but with agitation now, it seemed. Not desire. “Because this shouldn’t be happening. It’s wrong.”

  His grip on my waist loosened.

  “What’s wrong about it?” I held on tighter. “It feels right to me.”

  Why did he look so angry? Who was he mad at? Himself or me?

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I like you. Too much. But I can’t.” His features hardened. “We can’t.”

  When his warmth retreated, I felt chilled everywhere but my cheeks, which burned as he firmly set me away from him. I swayed once more, only this time, I had no one to hold on to.

  “All right.” My hands dropped to my sides. “If you say so.”

  “I do, ma’am. Absolutely.” Cash was once again as he had been before. His professional demeanor in place, barriers returned between us.

  My eyes stung. I was accustomed to rejection, of course. I had reasons for my cynicism beyond my childhood. Wi
th actors or others in the business, the issue was usually my stepfather. But with my bodyguard, it was just me.

  I curled my fingers tightly into fists, struggling to maintain my poise when met by silence and his steely stare.

  “Hollie!”

  “Ernie!” I turned my head at the sound of his familiar voice.

  My friend waved and grinned at me from the entrance to the bedroom. A return smile wobbled on my face. I hadn’t heard him enter the suite. Disturbingly, neither had my protector.

  The breakdown in my security aside, I’d never been more relieved for an interruption in my life.

  “You bad girl.” Ernie’s eyes, as brown as milk chocolate, twinkled with mischief as he glanced back and forth between Cash and me. Since my friend arrived, my bodyguard had retreated to a spot by the window, and there he remained.

  “How do you mean?” I gave him a warning look, urging my unpredictable best friend to be careful in his reply. He’d been quiet while Frederick and his assistant had done all they needed to do and left. Ernie had questions, I could tell, and I would answer them, just not while Cash or anyone else was around to overhear.

  “Taking off in the dead of night without telling me, disappearing for weeks on end without a single word.” Ernie had read my unspoken plea correctly and was being purposely vague, recounting details everyone who had seen the press conference would know. “A lot has changed since we spoke last, and yet you’ve left your bestie in the dark, darling.” He pouted. “Are we not best friends and confidants any longer?”

  “You know we are.” I touched his arm, my gaze imploring him for patience and understanding. “It wasn’t safe for you to know everything. I was trying to protect you.”

  “I’m not afraid of your father.” He lifted his chin.

  “Stepfather,” I said, correcting him automatically.

  “Yes, that was as unexpected a revelation as—”

  “You being the designer on the clothes for the photo shoot.” I jumped in, not sure exactly what he’d been about to say. I just knew I didn’t want him to air any of my secrets or Fanny’s. “The dresses were lovely, by the way. It was quite a surprise to find out you designed them.”