Calvin clapped me on the shoulder. “Great. You ready to go now? I’ve got a bunch of work to catch up on, but Layla was adamant about this. I’d like to get it done so I can focus on other things.”
I tried not to let my disappointment show. If I went now, I’d miss Cara’s visit. But I couldn’t very well tell Calvin that. And I couldn’t think of any other reason to delay. I obviously had no other commitments. I sighed under my breath and nodded. “Sure, just give me a minute.”
I left Calvin waiting in the hall while I went back inside and wrote a quick note to Cara, telling her what I was doing. Hopefully she’d come back to see me later. I left it on the coffee table where she’d be sure to find it then grabbed a hat and some sunglasses.
Calvin led us down the private elevator and out a side door where a slick, tan Maybach waited for us. Calvin climbed in the drivers’ side, so I opened the passenger door and slipped into the supple, tan leather seat with dark brown accents that matched the glossy, burled wood dash.
“Nice ride. No driver?”
“Nah, not in Sweet Bay. The town’s so small, it only takes a couple minutes to get from one side to the other.” That sounded nice compared to the constant congestion of LA traffic. There, it took an hour to get anywhere.
I swiveled my head as we drove, taking in the quaint bungalows and charming downtown shops. But Calvin wasn’t kidding. Sweet Bay epitomized small town charm, but we were barely on the road five minutes before we were on the other side of town. He pulled into a small hospital and parked then we headed inside.
The receptionist glanced up at him but then ignored him. He’d probably been there a lot lately and she was used to him coming and going. She gave me a curious look but didn’t stop us. With my sunglasses and hat on, I doubted she would recognize me, especially in a tiny town like Sweet Bay. I had no connection to it. There was no reason for anyone to suspect I was hiding out there.
“The girl’s name is Mallory. She’s eleven, and she’s got leukemia,” Calvin explained as he led me down the wide, echoey, white halls that smelled like disinfectant. We passed a few other people on our way, but they didn’t stop to talk to us. I was kind of surprised; I thought small town people would be friendlier. But it worked out in my favor.
Calvin stopped at a room and peeked his head in. “Hey Layla.” He motioned his girlfriend out into the hall. She stepped out and slid her hand around Calvin’s waist then peered up at me. I recognized the brunette beauty as the woman Calvin had bought to my last movie premiere, even though she was in jeans now instead of a slinky evening gown.
“Layla, you remember Beau. He agreed to come visit Mallory,” he whispered.
I slipped my mirrored sunglasses down my nose so she could see my eyes. She grinned then held out her hand. I took it and kissed it. “Nice to see you again, Layla.”
“Thank you for coming, Beau. This will mean the world to Mallory. She’s in love with you.”
I cringed when she said my name out loud and a nearby nurse glanced at us. Calvin pulled Layla tighter to his side and muttered, “He doesn’t want anyone to know he’s here. He’s supposed to be in rehab.”
Layla made a little O with her mouth then covered it with her hand. “I’m sorry, but don’t worry. I’m sure Mallory’s family will keep your secret. They’ll just be thrilled that you came. I’ll go see if she’s up for a visit.”
She pulled away from Calvin and slipped into the hospital room. I could hear her speaking but not the words she was saying. Hopefully that meant the walls were soundproof enough that no one else would hear what was going on. A few moments later, she popped her head out and motioned for us to join her.
I stepped into the room, glancing around at the people crowding the small space — a middle-aged couple in casual clothes who looked weary and resigned, probably the girl’s parents, an older couple, dressed sharply — grandparents, maybe — who smiled kindly at me like they had no idea who I was, and a boy about eight, pushing a matchbox car around the legs of a chair.
Then my eyes went to the centerpiece, a narrow hospital bed that made the girl in the middle of it look tiny. Stick-thin arms and a bald head stuck out of a loose hospital gown. Her translucent skin was almost as pale as the sheets beneath her.
I stepped closer and took my sunglasses off, hanging them from the neckline of my shirt, then pulled my hat off my head, raking my fingers through my hair.
“Beau Bennett!” The voice that came out was as weak and fragile as her body. Her eyes were sunken and surrounded by purple shadows, but they lit up when she recognized me, and her cracked and peeling lips split in a wide smile, tightening the skin on her face till she looked like a skeleton.
I forced a smile onto my face, hoping it reached my eyes. “You must be Mallory.”
She looked up at me in awe. I carefully picked up the hand that wasn’t imbedded with an IV and lifted it to my lips, grinning at her as I kissed it. Her hand shook as her body fluttered with excitement. I heard a camera click behind me. “It’s really you! I can’t believe it! What are you doing here? I thought you were in rehab.”
“Mallory!” The middle-aged woman I assumed was her mother chided.
I chuckled and sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping hold of her cold, birdlike hand. “I didn’t need rehab, just a vacation. When I heard about you, I decided it would be a good time to come visit.”
Her lashless eyes got even wider. “You came here just to see me?”
“Well, yeah, I mean, I hear you’re my biggest fan. I had to meet you.”
Her lips quivered, and she nodded emphatically. “I am your biggest fan. I’ve seen all your movies; I’ve read all the books about you. I even made a scrapbook.”
She held out a hand towards her mother, not taking her eyes off of me. The woman pulled a thick binder out of a drawer in the nightstand and handed it to Mallory. Her weak arm shook under the weight of it. She dropped it on her lap and turned it towards me.
I glanced down at my own face behind the clear plastic cover of a three-ring binder. Mallory opened it and flipped through pages of photos and articles about me, painstakingly cut out and pasted on scrapbook paper she’d decorated with cute drawings and movie quotes. Most of the stories were shocking exposés about my many indiscretions. I was embarrassed for such a young, innocent girl to be reading them, even though a lot of it wasn’t true, and wondered why her parents let her. I supposed they just wanted to make her happy.
“I know your favorite food is escargot, and I want to try it even though it sounds disgusting. Snails, right?” She made a grossed-out face and stuck her tongue out. “Mom says when I get better enough to leave the hospital we can go to a restaurant that serves it.”
I felt a sharp pinch of pain in my chest at her words. I didn’t care for escargot; someone must’ve made up the random fact and put it in an article. But it was motivating this sick, little girl to get better just so she could try it, because she thought I liked it. I didn’t have the heart to correct her, especially knowing she probably would never leave the hospital again.
“What’s your favorite food?”
She tapped a finger against her lips. “Hmm, pizza, I guess.”
“I love pizza, too. What do you like on it? Pepperoni?”
She nodded eagerly, smiling. How could she be so lighthearted when she was so sick? Did she know she was dying? I thought I’d be anxious to get out of there, but instead, I found myself wanting to stay so I could bask in her happiness. An idea popped into my head, and I blurted it out.
“You know, I bet we could get a pizza delivered here and eat it together. What do you think?”
Her mouth fell open, and she turned and looked at her mom, her eyes begging for approval. Her mother winced. “I don’t know, hon, it might upset your stomach. You just had a treatment.”
Mallory shook her head. “I don’t care if I get sick. It’ll be worth it. Please, Mom?”
The man I assumed was her father put a hand on the woman’s arm an
d frowned at her, his look saying what his words didn’t — it might be her last chance. “Let her have the pizza, dear.”
The woman gave a soft smile and nodded. Then she dug a phone out of her purse and ordered a pizza while Mallory showed me her favorite pages in her scrapbook. We chatted for twenty minutes about nothing and everything. I told Mallory about my upcoming project, sharing details the public didn’t know. She told me which movies of mine were her favorites and why, which was surprisingly insightful, especially for a young girl.
When a knock sounded on the door, Mallory’s mother went out and returned with a fragrant pizza box big enough to feed the whole family. She set it down on Mallory’s lap. Mallory grinned and lifted the lid. Steam curled out, warming her cheeks. She pushed the lid the rest of the way open and gawked at the cheesy, melty pie.
We didn’t have plates or silverware, so we lifted out pieces with our hands and held them up so the dangling cheese fell into our mouths. Mallory ate like a lumberjack, taking huge bites, smearing her face with sauce, smiling around giant mouthfuls of pizza. “Even if I barf later, this was totally worth it.”
When the pizza was gone, Mallory laid back against her tilted bed with a contented sigh, her eyes drooping.
“It looks like you could use a nap. I should probably get going. But can we take a picture for me to remember this by?” I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket at the same time as her mother.
Mallory perked up again. “Yeah! Can we do a selfie?”
“Absolutely.” I moved so I was squatting next to her and tilted my head till it touched hers then held out my phone and snapped a couple pictures of us. Mallory smiled widely for the first ones, then we switched to making funny faces. Her mother stood at the end of the bed and took a video of us taking pictures.
“What’s your number? I’ll send all these to you.” Maybe I’d even text her once in a while, to encourage her. She rattled off her number, and I punched it in my phone then forwarded the pictures.
She dug out her phone and squealed when the text came through. “This is so incredible! I can’t wait to show my friends!”
I cringed. I hated to ruin her excitement, but I had to. “Mallory, I need you to promise you won’t show those pictures to anyone or post them online till the end of the month. I can’t let anyone find out where I am right now. Can you do that for me?”
She nodded solemnly. “I understand. I promise I won’t tell anyone yet.”
I grinned and stroked a hand down her cheek. “You’re a great kid, you know that? I’m really glad I got to meet you.”
She smiled so wide, I could see every tooth in her mouth, and her receding gum line. “Thank you for coming. This was the best day ever.”
I had to agree with her. The day before with Cara was at the top of my list, but this might’ve been even better than that. Not only had I made one little girl incredibly happy, she’d made me happy, too. I’d never felt so fulfilled before.
I leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her lips then wrapped my arms around her and hugged her. She hugged me back, her frail arms squeezing tighter than I would’ve thought possible.
I was almost to the door when a nurse walked in, took one look at me, and squawked loud enough for the whole wing to hear, “Oh my goodness, you’re Beau Bennett!”
Several heads immediately appeared in the doorway, wide-eyed and whispering to each other. I reached for my hat and sunglasses, but I was too late. Cameras flashed in my eyes, blinding me. I quickly covered my head with my hands, but the damage was done.
“Stop!” A loud, powerful, voice echoed from the hallway. I lowered my arms to see Calvin glaring at the people in front of me. Everyone turned to gawk at him.
“Listen to me, please. Beau is staying here in Sweet Bay, trying to get away from the media for a while. I asked him to come out of hiding to visit a sick fan, and he was kind enough to do it. I promised him that Sweet Bay was a safe place for him. I know you’re all excited to see him, but please, will you honor his privacy and not tell anyone you saw him here, not share those pictures you took?”
The onlookers murmured to each other, looking back and forth between me and Calvin. One of them said, “Why should we? You didn’t respect the town’s privacy. You built that resort here and are planning to bring in a bunch of tourists, even though no one here wants that.”
The others nodded and made irritated faces, and Calvin winced and dropped his head. Layla crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at them. “If you’re that bothered by people knowing about this town, then you should be able to empathize with Beau. Please, treat him with respect. He’s a human being, not a spectacle.”
Cara’s suggestion to use my money for good came back to me, giving me an idea. It wasn’t exactly altruistic, but it would help the town as well as ensure my privacy. “This is a small town; I’m sure the hospital could use a little monetary help. If you keep quiet about me being here, I’m willing to donate a million dollars to the pediatric department so kids like Mallory can get the best care possible here.”
That stirred the crowd up. I winced when a dozen more face appeared at the doorway. There was no way they were going to stay quiet about it. They couldn’t keep their mouths shut for half a second. I pushed through them out into the hallway, scowling. I had to get out of there before the press showed up.
“I won’t tell,” a voice called after me.
“Neither will I,” said another.
“Me neither. We need a new MRI machine.”
One after another, the witnesses declared their vows of silence. When I turned around, their faces looked sincere. I wanted to trust them, but could I? Small towns were known for gossiping, but they were also known for helping each other. I’d always thought it would be nice to live in a small town where people treated their neighbors like family. Would they extend that same courtesy to me?
Calvin and I hustled out of the hospital and jumped into his Maybach. He turned towards me, a look of regret on his face. “I’m so sorry, Beau. I never should’ve asked you to do that.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I’m glad you did. I’m not happy that my secret got out, but I’m glad I was able to visit Mallory. I need to do more stuff like that. Use my fame for good.”
Calvin gave me a thoughtful smile then drove the car up to the exit. He stopped and looked at me before pulling out. “Do you want me to get you a flight out of here? I can take you to the airport now, if you want.”
I thought for a moment. Leaving wouldn’t do much good if the story got out. The press would know I didn’t go to rehab. And I realized I didn’t want to leave. It felt good to be away from the Hollywood scene for a while. If I stayed, I could spend more time with Cara, get to know Calvin and Layla a bit better, maybe even visit Mallory again.
“I’d like to stay for now, if that’s okay. If it becomes a problem, I’ll get out of here.”
Calvin nodded and turned towards the resort. “Sure, no problem. Stay as long as you like. I’ll beef up the security at the resort a bit, make sure no one bothers you.”
Chapter 9
Cara
“Cara, glad you’re here. I need to talk to you.” My boss, the editor of the Sweet Bay Sun newspaper, poked his bald head out as I walked by. I stopped and turned into his office, a glass-walled box in the center of the newsroom.
“Yes, sir?”
He shut the door then leaned against his battered, wooden desk with a concerned look on his face, smoothed down his wiry, gray mustache, and crossed his arms over his chest, leaving me unsure if I should take a seat in one of the chairs in front of him or stay standing. I hesitated so long that, even though I decided I should probably sit, it felt too awkward.
“Cara, you’re an excellent reporter. You’re a great writer with a knack for digging up gold that others wouldn’t find. You turn even the most mundane stories into attention grabbers. I took a chance on you, hiring someone so young, but you’ve proven yourself to be a valuable member of
the team.”
My chest swelled up, and my cheeks tightened with a big smile. “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate—”
“That’s why I’m so disappointed by this article you submitted.” He reached around and grabbed a piece of paper off his desk, holding it up with two fingers like it was disgusting garbage.
“The article about the resort?” It was the last one I’d submitted, but his reaction didn’t make any sense.
“Do you work for the resort? Did you take a job as their PR agent, or something? Is Calvin Montgomery bribing or blackmailing you?” Based on his words, I would’ve assumed he was joking, but his red face and pinched eyes said otherwise.
“What? No! Of course not.”
“Then what on earth possessed you to write such drivel?” He smacked his hand against the paper, crinkling it. I resisted the urge to take it from him and smooth it out again.
I glanced around, looking to see if anyone was watching the exchange through the glass walls. If so, it would be obvious that Mr. Elliot was reaming me out. “What do you mean, sir? I thought it was a very nice article.”
“Yeah, it was nice. Do you know how the people of this town feel about Calvin Montgomery and his resort?” He stuck his fists on his hips, crumpling my article even more.
“They don’t like him, and they’re not happy about it.”
“Exactly! So why did you write a puff piece that made it sound like he was Santa Claus and the resort was his gift to Sweet Bay?” He waved the rumpled paper under my nose.
I tugged on my braid and wished I’d worn something nicer than a tee shirt and shorts. They made me look like a kid, not a mature professional. But I’d only stopped in to pick up my paycheck. It could be my last one if I didn’t convince him my article had merit.
“I thought the same thing as everyone else when I first heard about the resort, but then I went to that party and I saw how nice it was and what kinds of benefits Calvin was offering to employees. I heard his speech and talked to him some. He’s a nice guy, nothing like the rest of his family, and I think the resort will be good for Sweet Bay. I thought maybe my article could help people see that.”
Stalking the Billionaire Celebrity (Sweet Bay Billionaires Book 2) Page 7