by Alexa Aston
“Rhett? We need to talk.” Randi’s tone let Rhett know serious trouble brewed between the two women.
“Not now, Randi. Later.”
“But Rhett—”
Rhett ignored his girlfriend’s pout and accompanied Cassie back inside. Shep awaited them in the kitchen. He gave the dog a quick pat and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for both of them and sat. Cassie stood.
“Getting a lot done?” he asked as Shep wandered over to Cassie and she began petting the large dog.
“Not exactly. I did meet Breck. He showed me around. I can at least find my way from the kitchen to the pool since I’ve made the trip numerous times already.”
Rhett hid a smile and wickedly decided to push her. “Really?” He didn’t think he could sound more innocent. He watched Cassie’s temper flare.
“I did not hire on to be at the beck and call of your Playboy Bunny, Corrigan. I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend. But I can’t do for you while I’m playing servant girl to her. I’m surprised she hasn’t already had me pay her bills online, take her poodle to the vet for a clip, and exchange a pair of Manolos because she didn’t like the color anymore.”
“If you give Randi time, she’ll see you get all of that done by five this afternoon.” Rhett grinned at Cassie’s heated glare. “And Cassie, Randi has a maltipoo. You might want to remember that in the future when you shop for the dog’s clothes.”
She almost growled at him. Rhett burst out laughing. “Calm down. I’ll be sure Randi’s clear that you’re my assistant. I have plenty to keep you busy. She won’t ask you again to run her errands. Or fetch her drinks. I promise.”
Cassie sniffed. “I’ll bet she never took advantage of your sister like this.”
Rhett’s eyes twinkled. “Hell, no. Carreen wouldn’t have put up with that.” He paused. “You shouldn’t either.”
Cassie nodded her approval and took a seat at the table. “Let’s get started.” She whipped out a pad and pen from her purse and looked at him expectantly.
“Okay. My publicist, Becky Bloss, is set to call you around three-thirty. You’ll need to coordinate my upcoming calendar with her. Carreen had a few things marked already. I’ll do anything the two of you deem reasonable to promo the new movie—radio, TV, print, whatever—through December twenty-third. I’ll want to spend some time with my family, so don’t book anything until after the twenty-eighth.”
Cassie finished scribbling. “What else?”
“I need to go see my sister this afternoon so you’ll be on your own. I can show you Carreen’s computer and call up a few files for you to peruse. Just get yourself familiar with things.”
“Breck told me Carreen has cancer. I’m so sorry. I lost my dad to it.” Cassie swallowed at the painful memory. “Medicine has advanced so much more now. I know she’ll beat this.”
He felt his eyes misting. “I hope so, too. What kind of cancer did your dad have?”
“Lung cancer. Unfortunately, he was a heavy smoker. Two packs of Camels a day. I was only seven when he died.”
Rhett took her hand. “That’s rough on a kid.” He gave it a squeeze and released it. “Carreen’s got two little ones. Six and four. Fortunately, they caught it early. The doctor expects a good outcome. It’s rough seeing her go through the chemo now. She’s lost most of her hair and her appetite’s nonexistent.” He chuckled. “Unlike me. I’m always hungry.”
“Why don’t I made you a sandwich or salad or whatever you normally eat, and you can head over to see her?”
Cassie walked over and opened the refrigerator, Shep following on her heels. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said flatly.
Rhett glanced inside and saw the bare shelves. “Yeah, I’m kind of low on things.”
“When is the last time your housekeeper bought groceries? Or your cook? And where is the rest of your staff? I thought Hollywood superstars had tons of people.”
Rhett loved the curiously demanding tone in her voice. “I am staff-less at the moment. My housekeeper, Consuelo, has gone back to Mexico for the holidays. She took her daughter, Maria, her two nieces, and her two sons with her. Maria cooks like a dream, the nieces clean under Consuelo’s watchful eye, and the boys are my groundskeepers. They maintain the yard and the pool.”
“It’s only the first week of December,” Cassie pointed out. “How generous are you with time off? Not that I need a vacation right now.”
Rhett knew this would be tough to explain. “Consuelo is the best but she has a habit of taking off on the spur of the moment to visit relatives in Mexico. This time, she left right before Thanksgiving.”
“And you let her? You keep hiring her and her family back even though she leaves you high and dry?”
He nodded sheepishly. “What can I say? She takes good care of me. They all do. I always say I’ll fire her but then I take her back every time.”
“So what do you do during the in-between times?”
Rhett shrugged. “I get by. Order out a bunch. Breck stops for pizza a couple of nights a week. I’m not too messy so things don’t get too bad.”
Cassie cringed. “I can see it now, a new headline on the TMZ site—Sexy Star Showers Amidst Fungi. They’ll have you dead from black mold, Rhett. I know these tabloids.”
“What do you suggest I do? And remember, Maria makes the best damned enchiladas west of the Mississippi. I refuse to give those up. If Maria stays, they all will stay.”
“First of all, I wouldn’t rehire any of them again. But seeing the look on your face, that’s not an option. So we’ll pinch-hit for now. I’m a Texas gal so if it’s Mexican you like, I can do it all—fajitas, chili, nacho casserole.”
“My mouth’s already salivating.” Rhett glanced down at his sheep dog. “Even Shep’s up for whatever you can make.”
“Hush. I can grill, too, from hamburgers to salmon to chicken. I make some mean mashed potatoes and can even do a few easy desserts. So you won’t starve.”
“You’re my assistant. I can’t ask you to cook, too.”
Cassie held up a hand. “Hey, who says an assistant can’t cook? I assist you. Period. Whatever it takes to keep the Rhett Corrigan machine moving, I’ll do it.” She sized him up. “What do you like to eat?”
“Everything,” Rhett admitted. “I love seafood and steak. Lots of fresh fruits and vegetables. I am partial to whole grains. And pasta. God, I love pasta.”
“What about Randi?”
“Randi? She doesn’t eat anything except salads. She nibbles or pushes things around on her plate. It used to be just Diet Coke and cigarettes, but I won’t let her smoke here.”
“She probably sneaks some in,” Cassie pointed out. “I caught a whiff of tobacco on her.”
“You’re probably right. Don’t worry about picking up anything for her.”
“Okay. I’ll stock up your refrigerator and pantry. What does Breck like?”
“Breck would eat rocks if you put ketchup on them.”
“I’ll cook until Consuelo and her crew return.”
“I feel bad about you doing that.”
Cassie grinned. “Don’t. You’re just going to pay me even more for my time and trouble. I do draw the line at trimming hedges and swishing toilets. Do I have your go-ahead to hire someone to do that?”
“Sure.”
“Then I’ll make a few calls, take some bids, and get back to you.”
“You don’t have to. You’ve got the authority. Make the decision.” He thought a moment. “I’ll get the credit card Carreen used for my expenses when I visit her. Buy whatever you think is reasonable. Privacy is number one, though. Whoever comes in needs to be discreet and sign an NDA.” Rhett thought a moment. “I’ll need you to sign a non-disclosure agreement, too.”
Cassie nodded. “I figured as much. The rest sounds good to me. Since I’m cooking, what hours do you expect me to work? I hear you’re an early bird.”
“Hours? Carreen made her own. You do the same. I’ll make oatmeal or
cereal with fruit for breakfast.” He grinned. “I even know how to scramble up an egg-white omelet if I get bored. Seriously, I don’t need you here when I roll out of bed in the mornings. I know some days will be light, so you aren’t expected to be here all day. When I’m shooting, those can be really long days, so I hope it’ll balance out in the end for you.”
“Do I go on location with you? We really haven’t talked about any specifics,” Cassie pointed out.
“Carreen came sometimes. It depends. Can we play that by ear? I don’t have another movie lined up yet.”
“Sure. I’m going to need your cell number. Landline. E-mail address. Carreen’s computer password so I can access files. Could I have a key to the house? I’d like to come and go without having to be let it. You know, by the imaginary housekeeper who takes such good care of you.”
Rhett let the sarcasm pass. “I’ll set you up with all of that and give you a cell phone to use. Since yours seemed to be having problems.” He saw annoyance flash across her face.
“Who’s your website admin? Who tweets for you? Me? Your PR person?”
“Amy Simmons created the site and handles any updates. I’m not on Twitter or Instagram. I don’t see the point. I pay Becky Bloss to keep me out of the news. Why?”
“I’m trying to familiarize myself with everyone. Who does what.”
“You’ll find Amy and Becky easy to work with. Don’t worry, Cassie. You’ll have access to whatever you need but right now, I’m starved. Want to grab some lunch? Then I’ll held over to Carreen’s and you can stock up on food.”
“That’ll be fine.”
Rhett relaxed. “I can’t thank you enough for grabbing groceries at the market. I get mobbed whenever I try to go somewhere ordinary like that. I can’t even walk into 7-11 for a Slurpee.”
“As long as you give me that credit card, I promise you’ll be a happy camper.” Cassie hesitated. “Would you like me to go ask Randi to shower so she can go to lunch, too?”
“No.” Rhett’s answer was emphatic. “We really aren’t out in public yet.”
“Then I guess we can bring her something back.”
“She wouldn’t eat it anyway. Like I said, she pretty much pretends to eat.”
Cassie heard disapproval in Rhett’s voice. She found her employer hard to read at that moment. Did he really care for Randal James? Or was he simply using the model for sex?
It didn’t matter. It was none of her business.
CHAPTER 6
They stepped out into warm California sunshine and a cool breeze. Rhett took one look at her wreck of a loaner and began laughing.
“I’ll be right back,” he told her.
Cassie knew the rental seemed pathetic, but it wasn’t as if Rhett would ride with her to the restaurant. They’d take separate cars so she could run his errands while he visited Carreen. He didn’t have to be uncomfortable with her uncool ride. Rhett could pretend not to know her.
Maybe lunch together was a bad idea, after all. Cassie decided to suggest they part ways when he returned.
She heard a car’s engine approach and turned as Rhett pulled up in a black Range Rover. He got out and tossed her a set of keys.
“It’s yours to drive. Don’t give me a withering look, Cassie. It’s not a mercy loan. It actually comes with the job. Carreen used it all the time. Sometimes, you’ll have things to pick up for me, like the mega-amount of groceries today, so you’ll need a lot of room.”
“And sometimes I’ll need to park in fancy-schmancy places, and you wouldn’t want me to embarrass you?” she needled.
Rhett mock sighed. “You’re absolutely right. You’re on to me. I am a shallow, selfish, stereotypical Hollywood star and wouldn’t want others to judge me by the broken-down mess my assistant drives.” He eyed her. “Come on, Cassie. You’ll have fun driving a Rover.”
“Hah! You have no idea where I live, Corrigan. It’ll probably be stolen from my parking lot before I make it to my apartment door.”
He shrugged. “So, I’ll buy a new one. You know us pampered Hollywood men and our toys. Get in it and follow me.” Rhett climbed into the sleek, blue Porsche and buckled up. “Let’s go,” he called out the window.
Cassie climbed behind the wheel of the Range Rover and fell in behind Rhett. Her heart pounded in her ears. How could he trust her with something so expensive, especially when she’d totaled one of his cars yesterday?
Everywhere she looked were buttons and knobs that she had no idea how to work. It even had a screen for the GPS. Her ancient car came off the factory line way before GPS became standard in cars. Her hands tightened on the wheel as her eyes cut back from the road to all the bells and whistles along the dashboard. She would never, ever learn how to drive something so complicated. Much less enjoy it.
As she kept pace with Rhett, though, she decided to roll with the punches. “Relax and enjoy it,” she told herself, trying hard to take her own advice. “It won’t last forever. Nothing good ever does.”
That was one lesson Hollywood had taught her. She’d come from Texas with big dreams and an open heart. Nowadays, she was content if she could pay her rent and bills on time and fly under the radar. Forget seeing her name in lights on the big screen. She’d always be lingering in the shadows—if that.
Cassie wondered where Rhett might take her to eat. Wolfgang Puck’s place? The Ivy? No, he didn’t seem the type. The paparazzi rarely took his picture. She doubted they would go to any place high profile. Maybe it would be some private club, tucked away, catering to the oh-so-famous rich.
It surprised her when Rhett’s blinker came on and he pulled into a strip shopping center. She followed him around to the back and parked where the staff did. He waited for Cassie at the rear door and they entered, walking through the noisy kitchen, full of steaming pots of boiling water and shouts of orders. She could smell the yeast of baking rolls and the not-so-subtle garlic that must be liberally applied in the dishes served.
Rhett greeted several workers by name as they passed, and one server led them to a table far in the back, just off the kitchen. She’d always thought of stars sitting in the prime spot, the center of a room, but that didn’t seem to be Rhett Corrigan’s style.
“The usual, Mr. C?” the server asked, his pen poised above his pad.
“Make it two of everything, Raoul. And meet Cassie, my new assistant. She has no idea what she’s in for.”
Raoul beamed at her. “Glad to meet you, Cassie. Don’t let Mr. C push you around. Teach him who’s the boss.” The server winked at her and left to place their order.
Cassie frowned as Raoul disappeared. She wasn’t used to not even seeing a menu, much less having no say in what she would eat. “What are we getting? And what if I’m allergic to it? What if I don’t even like Italian?”
Rhett grinned. “You’ll like it all. I’ve never had a bad meal here.”
He was right. The salad was crisp and cold, with a marvelous house dressing that she wished she could buy. The entrée turned out to be a trio of manicotti, lasagna, and cannelloni. The yeasty rolls she’d smelled definitely had a hint of garlic in them and melted in her mouth.
They talked as they ate. She had thought this lunch would be all business but Rhett conversed with her as he would a new friend.
“Where are you from?” he began, seeming both interested and curious about her.
“The heart of Texas. Where people still say yes, ma’am and no, sir. A place where barbeque reigns supreme and people look you in the eye when they pass you on the sidewalk and say hello and ask how you’re doing.”
He laughed. “That’s the antithesis of California. What else? Your favorite movie. Favorite food. The one place where you’d want to go if money was no object.”
“Movie would be The Usual Suspects.”
“Hmm. I took you for a romantic comedy fan.”
She grinned. “I do love them but I’m fond of the twist. Favorite food? Anything I don’t have to make—even though I enjoy co
oking.” She paused. “As for place? It would have to be Maui. Even though I’ve never been there before.”
He gazed into her eyes, sending a ripple down her spine. A very pleasant ripple, which she chose to ignore.
“Why Maui?”
She shrugged. “Because it’s everything Waco isn’t. It’s got mountains and the ocean and between those it’s a tropical paradise. I always thought if I made it—if I became truly successful—I’d buy a place on Maui. My own private getaway. I’d learn to surf. Hit the waves early every morning after I watched the sunrise. Walk the beach after surfing. Grill every meal and eat it outdoors. Go down to the water and watch the sun set each night and wait for the moon to rise.”
She swallowed. “It’s a pipe dream. Something that will never happen.” She shook her head. “I’m embarrassed I even told you. You’re the ultra-successful Rhett Corrigan. You have enough money to buy the entire island of Maui.”
Glancing down, mortified, it surprised her when his fingers tilted her chin up. Their eyes met.
“Never feel awkward or embarrassed for having a dream. Everyone needs a goal. Big ones. Little ones. In-between ones. Maui is your big goal. Don’t let go of it. Ever.”
Rhett’s fingers fell away but Cassie still felt the warmth of them on her skin. He wasn’t anything like she would have thought a man of his fame would be like. He was quieter. More contemplative. He seemed to speak from his heart.
Unfortunately, her heart began to respond in ways that spelled trouble. She needed to put the brakes on.
Fast.
“Tell me about my new position,” she said as she dug into the bread basket again, wanting to steer the conversation into a safer and more productive direction. She wanted to learn what his schedule was like and about the expectations he had regarding the job she now held.
As he spoke, Cassie learned a little more about the day-to-day activities in Rhett’s life. She believed she could handle everything he mentioned with ease. Surprisingly, she also found that he had a wicked sense of humor.
“You should do a comedy,” she told him after she caught her breath from laughing. “Everyone would be blown away by how funny you are. You’re always so serious on screen, glaring at the bad guys and playing it cool and silent.”