Hollywood Heartbreaker: Hollywood Name Game Book 1

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Hollywood Heartbreaker: Hollywood Name Game Book 1 Page 20

by Alexa Aston


  “That’s what the calendar says.”

  He smiled. “Then I say let’s go do a little shopping.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Christmas Day had come and gone, but now in the early hours of its aftermath, Rhett couldn’t sleep. He glanced at Cassie lying next to him, her long, copper hair tumbled across the pillow. Nothing like great sex before falling asleep. He loved gazing at her, especially now as she slumbered. She always seemed constantly in motion but in sleep she was serene and peaceful as the faint moonlight reflected across the bed.

  Rhett sighed and pillowed his hands beneath his head. The day had gone extremely well with all his relatives. Plenty of food. The kids happy with their presents. Carreen looked as if she finally felt well for the first time in months. She’d finished her last chemo treatment and her prognosis was upgraded to excellent. He knew she’d turned the corner, with only two radiation treatments left.

  Carreen pulled him aside, commenting on how happy he seemed with Cassie. Rhett couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear as he assured his big sister that Cassie was The One.

  He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his knuckles for good measure. What really kept him awake was the script outline Cassie had shown him before they’d left for his mom’s house earlier today.

  It was on spec, not associated with any major studio yet. Rhett liked it. A lot. He and Cassie talked more about it once they got home and Rhett relished the idea of developing his own property from its infancy. He made an outrageous salary per picture as it was, more than he could ever spend in his lifetime. Why not use his own money like Mel Gibson had years ago for The Passion of the Christ? No one in town had wanted to touch the religious subject with a ten-foot pole so Mel bankrolled the entire project from start to finish—and laughed all the way to the bank when it broke box office records worldwide.

  Still, Rhett’s driving force wasn’t a concern about profit. He thought the storyline had great potential. It definitely was a serious drama but it had a few lighter moments thrown in that cut the mounting tension and threw the audience off-guard. He couldn’t remember what his high school English teacher had called that but he knew even in a dark drama about a serial killer a bit of comedic relief helped the pacing.

  The piece was as different from his previous roles as a story could get but Rhett knew he was up to the challenge. He wouldn’t have to fire any AK-47s or crash any cars but he would have to dodge a few emotional bullets. The lead was an assistant DA, a guy with psychological damage out the wazoo. He’d been a former cop who’d rolled on his dirty partner and captain and lost his wife and young son as payback. Now, someone had set it up to look like this flawed attorney was the new serial killer in town. Maybe it could be the breakthrough that helped Rhett transition to more adult roles. It didn’t happen often, actors leaving a successful genre. Audiences had a tendency to pigeonhole their favorites and not accept them in something new. Rhett thought of Bruce Willis, who’d swung from Die Hard to The Sixth Sense and back to action hero again.

  Could he do the same?

  The generation of actors in action films was rapidly aging. Even Brad Pitt was in his fifties now, with Liam Neeson in his sixties. Sylvester and Arnold and Jean-Claude were downright ancient. A few action types had begun to segue into character roles. Rhett wanted to stay in this business long-term. That meant a switch from action to leading man to eventual character parts as the years progressed. He knew his way could be paved with this project. He would show the critics, his agent, and audiences that he had more versatility than what had been seen on the big screen before.

  He knew he could do it.

  Rhett glanced at the clock. He better turn off his brain and get some sleep. If he didn’t, that little sex machine Cassie Carroll would be all over him before they went for their morning run. Grinning, he began to doze off.

  The shrill ring of his phone startled him.

  Cassie sat up and blurted out, “This isn’t good. Granny Carroll said any call after midnight never is.”

  He tended to agree as he switched on the bedside lamp. “It’s probably just Mom. She’s had insomnia lately. I’m sure she’s still wired from all the food and fun.”

  She shook her head. “Answer it.”

  Rhett reached and saw the Caller ID. What would LAPD be doing calling him at two in the morning? Unless he was needed to bail Franz out of jail again.

  “Hello?”

  “This is Lieutenant Joe Price with LAPD. Am I speaking with Rhett Corrigan?”

  “Speaking.”

  He glanced over at Cassie, who looked worried. She reached for his hand.

  “This is the Rhett Corrigan?”

  He gave a nervous laugh. “Yes, Lieutenant, I’m Rhett Corrigan. What can I do for you?”

  He could sense the tension crackling over the phone wires. “Mr. Corrigan, I’m afraid I have some bad news. There’s no good way to break it to you, so I’ll just say it. You are the contact listed on the ‘in case of emergency card’ for Zak Mercury.”

  Confusion filled Rhett. Zak had plastic surgery on his nose the day after they visited him. He was supposed to be discharged from the hospital in the morning and head to Twin Hills. Wouldn’t the hospital be calling if some medical problem arose?

  “Sir? You are the emergency contact?”

  “I guess. He has no family to speak of. Has Zak—”

  “I’m sorry to inform you but Mr. Mercury died in a car wreck earlier this evening.”

  “Wait. Wait a minute. Zak . . . is dead?”

  Cassie gripped his hand, tears spring to her eyes.

  Rhett knew a mistake had been made. He needed to nip this puppy in the bud. “You’ve got it wrong. Zak Mercury is in the hospital, Lieutenant. He’s leaving tomorrow for rehab. There must be some mistake.”

  Lieutenant Price sighed. “I’m afraid not, Mr. Corrigan. Mr. Mercury was killed on the 405 about three hours ago. Witnesses said his car was weaving in and out of lanes. He’d probably been drinking. We’ll know after the autopsy.”

  “But . . . how did he get . . . for God’s sake, he’s a patient. He couldn’t have been out. What car? Why . . .” Rhett’s voice trailed off.

  “Mr. Mercury did have on a hospital bracelet. I checked with them and discovered he walked out around eight-thirty tonight. The floor nurse said he was belligerent and argumentative and insisted he was leaving. She couldn’t stop him.”

  The policeman paused. “I’m sorry to break this kind of news to you, sir. The autopsy will be in the next forty-eight hours. If it’s fine with you, I’ll give them this number to contact you when it’s over but you might want to go ahead and make some arrangements with a local funeral home before then.”

  He had trouble finding a response. “Uh, okay. Yes. I will.”

  “Sorry for your loss, Mr. Corrigan.”

  Rhett heard the officer break the connection but he froze, the phone still to his ear.

  What the hell had happened to Zak?

  ◆◆◆

  “The limo’s here.”

  Cassie handed Rhett his jacket. She watched him put it on absently, almost as if he were sleep walking. She was worried about him. He’d spent the last three days in a stupor, leaning on her heavily as he met with Zak’s lawyer, made arrangements for the memorial service, and tried without luck to track down anyone remotely related to Zak other than a second cousin living in Sacramento. The cousin told Rhett he might try to make it if his car would start.

  She greeted Johnny, glad she’d thought to request him from the car service. He nodded politely and opened the door. Rhett followed her into the car and sat quietly in his own world.

  He was taking Zak’s death hard. Cassie would’ve strangled Zak if he weren’t already dead. The comedian’s blood alcohol content was at .26. How he’d been able to drive at all was beyond her comprehension.

  Zak had been driving his own car. Police traced his steps, from the Lyft that picked him up in front of the hospital and delivered him
to his apartment. The driver said he’d taken his fare straight home with no stops so Zak must’ve gotten plastered at home. The cops found several empty vodka bottles strewn around his apartment and another one inside the wrecked vehicle.

  What possessed him to get out and drive was what she couldn’t understand. The two witnesses that came forth were quoted in the media as saying they thought Zak deliberately crashed his car into the median.

  Why would someone with such a bright future ahead of him do something so destructive?

  Cassie supposed it was the upcoming rehab stay that threw Zak into a panic, though he should have known with good, loyal friends such as Rhett, he would have been supported.

  Paparazzi loitered outside the gate. She knew after her short time around Rhett that they were vultures who made money off others’ pain. She didn’t know how Rhett dealt with them on a daily basis. He couldn’t walk into a store to shop for a new pair of shoes or a birthday present, much less go into McDonald’s for a Quarter Pounder. It made Cassie understand how Michael Jackson went a little crazy, renting out movie theaters after midnight and living a trapped life in a fishbowl as the media sharks circled him 24/7.

  She dreaded the memorial service that lay ahead. She hated the thought of death. Her dad had died of lung cancer on her seventh birthday. He was the lighthearted one, always making a joke, whistling, pulling her into his lap for a story or to read the newspaper aloud to her.

  After his death, things changed. She had understood her family didn’t have much money or material possessions before he died but she’d never felt poor. Things grew increasingly difficult in the aftermath. Her mom always yelling at her, working dead-end, part-time jobs. Cassie wound up taking care of the house, doing all the cooking as best as she could, but it was never enough to please her remaining parent. Her mom grew increasingly bitter, with no joy in her life. Their relationship had deteriorated so badly that Cassie doubted either would attend the other’s funeral.

  More photographers waited outside the funeral home, kept out by the security team Rhett hired for the occasion. He’d had a few photos of Zak on his phone and they’d gone to Zak’s apartment to find a few more to display in a slideshow. It was important to Rhett that people remember Zak as he was in the prime of his life. She decided she would return alone later to see everything went to the proper charities. Cassie didn’t think Rhett could face walking in there again, seeing Zak’s dirty dishes stacked high in the sink or his unmade bed waiting for his return.

  Taped classical music played over the system. She nodded to the small group of friends that had gathered to celebrate Zak’s short life. The entire poker group was in attendance, along with Marty, his agent.

  She glanced over her shoulder when she heard a raised voice. Two men built like college linemen stood at the back, part of the security detail. They blocked a guy with shaggy hair and a rumpled dress shirt from entering.

  “Hey, man, Zak was my cousin. We used to do weed together down on Venice Beach when we were kids.”

  Rhett stood and walked over. After a brief conference, he motioned to the guards to let the man in. Cassie assumed the glassy-eyed man was the cousin whose car had actually started. At least Zak had some family represented here.

  Rhett glanced at his watch and crossed to the podium as the music subsided. He’d been closer than anyone to Zak and would give the eulogy. She prayed he could make it through without breaking down. She had no idea what he would say. He’d locked himself in his study last night to work out the details. She’d fallen asleep before he came to bed.

  Rhett took out a folded page from his jacket and sighed before crumpling it up and pushing it aside on the podium.

  “I had a few thoughts planned but I don’t think Zak would’ve liked that. He was a fly by the seat of your pants kind of guy. Very spontaneous. Very witty. So, I’ll try to do him justice and talk from my heart.”

  He hesitated. Cassie saw his hands shaking, even as they gripped the sides of the podium.

  “This should be a gloomy day since such a playful light has gone out of the world. Zak Mercury was fun personified. He always loved to tease and joke. But you know, we shouldn’t be sad because he’s smiling down on us. Probably laughing his ass off, if you want the truth.”

  Cassie was impressed with Rhett’s simple, heartfelt words. He told a few stories of when they first met and some of their adventures together, such as the poker pals going fishing and snow skiing. How he’d seen Zak’s act a hundred times—and how it never ceased to crack him up. Rhett spliced in humor with more solemn feelings, sharing how Zak did have a serious side that he only revealed to a select few.

  It was easy to see how much Rhett had loved his friend. He stumbled a few times, his voice thick with emotion, but he was getting through it. Cassie was so proud of him.

  Then the loud clicking started, coming from a few rows behind her. Rhett frowned, losing his concentration, before he totally lost it.

  He shouted at Zak’s loser cousin, who’d begun taking pictures with his cell. “Have you no decency? Can’t you give Zak and those who loved him just an ounce of privacy?”

  The security team moved quickly to remove the distant relative. One of them confiscated the phone and slipped it into his pocket as the other latched on to Zak’s cousin.

  “Hey, gimme back my cell! I have people who’ll pay me big for those shots. Rhett Corrigan crying his eyes out will make me some serious money.”

  The men dragged him to the aisle as he cursed loudly.

  “You’re blowing my chance, man. I’m supposed to be on all the tabloid shows. Tell my side of the funeral and how close Zak and me were. Make some cash. You can’t do this to me. I’ve got rights. Corrigan, come on. We can—”

  Rhett stormed down the aisle and got in the doper’s face.

  “You worthless piece of humanity. You’ve turned a sad occasion into a circus. You’ve taken vulgar to an all-time low.”

  He waved a hand. “That’s it. I’m through. With Hollywood. With all the jackals who don’t care who they hurt as long as they get the shot. Life is more than a damned picture. It’s gathering around the table at night, sharing your day with your family. It’s doing an honest day’s work and being able to come home happy in your job and yet glad to be away from it because you’re with those you love.

  “Well, no more for me. Just get this asshole out of here. He’s made a mockery of Zak’s service.”

  Cassie trembled as she watched the security team haul the cousin out the door. She glanced back at Rhett. Angry tears streamed down his face.

  He looked at the small gathering. “I apologize. I brought this on everyone.” He strode up the aisle and headed out a back door.

  She was stunned by the length to which an actual blood relative of Zak’s had gone, even worse than the paparazzi. She hoped Rhett’s talk of quitting was simply rash words in the heat of the moment.

  Breck touched her shoulder. “I’ll go talk him down.”

  Cassie nodded her thanks, too emotional to speak. Jolene lay a hand on her shoulder. She clutched it like a lifeline.

  Then Ken and Melanie stood and filed by the casket. Those in attendance followed their lead and walked out of the small chapel to their waiting cars.

  Cassie knew only she and Rhett would head to the cemetery. Zak hadn’t wanted any graveside services so they would accompany the casket and see this day through.

  She stood shakily and walked out with Jolene. Security had cleared the way to the limo. Johnny opened the door and Cassie climbed in, limp as a dishrag.

  Moments later, Breck got in.

  His eyes searched hers. “Rhett’s nowhere to be found.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Cassie walked through Rhett’s house aimlessly, wandering from room to room, turning lights on and off. Shep followed at her heels as if scared to leave her alone. Cassie finally made her way back downstairs and sat at the kitchen table. The dog leaned against her and Cassie stroked his fur, lost in thought.<
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  Rhett hadn’t called. All day. After he disappeared from the funeral home, Breck and Jolene accompanied her to Zak’s burial. Cassie thought Rhett might turn up there.

  He didn’t.

  They came home and she immediately went to the big house. Shep and Mimi Morgan greeted her. The grandmotherly cook insisted she sit and eat something. Cassie pushed around pieces of lettuce and cucumbers and mushrooms, scattering them across the salad plate. She tried to eat the sandwich but the first bite caused her to gag. She excused herself, grateful Mimi didn’t ask what was wrong or where Rhett was.

  Cassie returned to the gatehouse and changed clothes, her cell in her pocket, waiting for Rhett to call. She lay on her bed, eyes unblinking, the pit of her stomach a dull lump. TJ curled beside her, purring low. She pulled him close, tears finally spilling into his orange fur.

  She came out of her bedroom hours later to find Breck and Jolene huddled with Ken, Chris, and Darin. All eyes locked on her as she entered the den.

  Cassie found her voice. “No one’s heard from him.” It wasn’t a question, merely a stated fact.

  “No,” Breck said. “We’ve all had calls out but no one’s seen him or his car.”

  “It’s not like Rhett’s a missing person,” Jolene pointed out. “He’s had a rough time and needs some space.”

  “She’s right,” Ken agreed. “We can’t involve the police. We’ve got to give Rhett some time alone.”

  Cassie nodded, reining in her temper. What about her and her needs? Her best friend, her brand-new lover, her everything had vanished without a single word. Who the hell did he think he was? Some prima donna movie star who was more important than a lowly assistant? Or just a typical asshole guy, putting himself first when the going got tough?

  She bit her lip. That wasn’t fair. Rhett had tremendous pressure on him. She’d only seen a brief glimpse of what he’d lived through the past several years, a sliver of his life under the glaring microscope, continually dissected by the public. If he needed to get away, he deserved it. He would call.

 

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