“People don’t want to have their minds changed. They want to have their opinions confirmed. This newspaper isn’t the place for you to champion your personal agenda. We write puff pieces about things people already like — grandma’s secret recipes, and heroic firemen, and the winner of the best landscaping award. We don’t write puff pieces about controversial subjects like unwelcome resorts built by conceited billionaires. We write exposés that dig deep into the scandal and reveal shocking new information that validates what people want to believe about an issue.” He jabbed a stubby finger at me.
“Are you saying you want me to make him look bad, even if it’s not the truth?”
“Truth is subjective, Cara. It’s all in how you phrase it. You should know that. I expect better from you than this.” He wadded up the paper and tossed it towards the trash can. It bounced off the rim and fell to the floor.
I stared at it, angry, embarrassed and disappointed in myself, all at the same time. “I’m sorry, sir. I can rewrite it. I’ll have it for you by the end of the day.”
He sighed dramatically. “Don’t bother. It’s too late. I didn’t review your article before it went to print. I thought I could trust you to put out content worthy of this newspaper.”
“I’ll do better next time, I promise.” If there was a next time. He was so upset, it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d fired me.
“Bring me something good, Cara. Something to make me forget this fiasco.” He turned and went around the back of his desk then slumped down in his chair, putting his elbows on his desk and resting his head in his hands like the exchange had mentally exhausted him, even though I was the one who’d been rung through the wringer.
I scurried out of his office, head down but peeking through my lashes to see if anyone had noticed the confrontation. I doubted anyone could hear what had been said, but since the walls of Mr. Elliot’s office were glass, they could probably tell by our body language that I was getting chewed out. I walked too fast for anyone to get a chance to approach me, darting out of the building and rushing to my scooter. I slipped on a pair of sunglasses as soon as I got outside so no one could see the tears that pooled in my eyes, threatening to cascade down my cheeks any moment.
I was a wreck, but I still needed to go clean Beau’s suite. Just thinking about him got me even more upset. I was supposed to be digging up dirt on him so I could write a scintillating article. That was exactly what Mr. Elliot wanted from me. But instead of weaseling information out of him, I’d spent the day cozying up to him like we were dating. I’d even let him kiss me!
I couldn’t believe I’d done that. Of course, who could blame me? He was a gorgeous, filthy rich movie star who was used to having his way with any woman he wanted. I had no idea why he seemed to want me, other than the fact that I was the only woman around him at the moment. But nevertheless, his charms were practically irresistible.
I had to get my head on straight, though. Beau wasn’t serious about me, and I was looking for a story, not a boyfriend. I needed to get him talking, not kissing. But that kiss played over and over in my mind like a scene from a movie. One that I wanted to see again.
I forced the image out of my brain and focused on my plan, instead. I would go to his suite, get him talking some more, and find something I could write a story about. It didn’t even need to be completely true as long as I had some juicy nugget. Like Mr. Elliot said, it was all in how you phrased it.
Maybe I could ask Beau about some of the women he’d dated, although the thought of it turned my stomach. If there was any truth to the tabloids, Beau had been out with just about every female celebrity famous enough to be recognizable. He obviously wasn’t opposed to flirting with nobodies, either, as long as they were willing.
I scowled at my own pathetic eagerness. I’d swooned like a schoolgirl when he kissed me. Of course, he was an excellent kisser. I’d had a few boyfriends over the years, but none of them came close to his level of talent. One kiss, and I was ready to throw myself at him. At least I had the good sense not to do that. His answer to my question made it obvious that all he was looking for was a good time. I couldn’t let myself get caught up in the fantasy of a relationship.
I motored over to the resort, hid my scooter, then made my way up to the penthouse level. Emma had left her cart in the usual spot and was probably already sunbathing by the pool. I made a promise to myself that this was the last day I’d do this. I couldn’t afford it much longer, especially if my job was at risk. If nothing else, I could reveal the fact that Beau was hiding here instead of going to rehab. I knew it was cold-blooded, especially after I’d promised to keep his secret, but that was the world of celebrity journalism — cutthroat and ruthless.
I knocked on Beau’s door and waited for him to open it or call out to me, but after several seconds, there was no answer. I knocked again, this time saying, “Housekeeping,” but still nothing. Was he asleep like the first day? Had he drank himself under the table again? My thoughts instantly turned to worries.
I unlocked the door with Emma’s keycard and slowly pushed it open, calling out again, but there was no response. An even worse fear landed in the pit of my stomach. Had he left?
His bed was made like yesterday, and no liquor bottles cluttered the coffee table, fortunately, but a note lay in the center of it. I hurried over and picked it up. I’d hardened my heart towards him on the way over, but it melted again when I read the note. He was taking the risk of being seen to visit a sick child in the hospital?
That didn’t sound anything like the self-centered playboy that everyone made him out to be. I knew he wasn’t really like that; I’d seen the real Beau the last few days. But this confirmed it. How could I write anything that might hurt him?
But I had to come up with something scandalous for my next article or I might get fired. I couldn’t afford to lose my job, especially if I didn’t have a breakout article to submit to the tabloids. And Beau was my best source of a story.
Even though I was disappointed that he wasn’t there, I was grateful I didn’t have to face him. I felt too guilty. I cleaned his room thoroughly, telling myself I was making up for yesterday but secretly hoping he would show up while I was there. But after two hours, I resigned myself to the fact that my time with Beau was over.
I was just about to go find Emma and tell her I wouldn’t be covering for her anymore when my cellphone beeped with a text message. I pulled it from my pocket and opened the text app when I saw my friend Mandie’s name on the screen. She’d sent a group text to all her closest friends.
Lunch at the diner in 15? Major news to tell you!
My heart rate took off like a race horse, but then I quickly pulled the reins on it. Mandie wore the crown as the gossip queen of Sweet Bay. Her idea of major news rarely qualified as newsworthy. But it would be fun to hang out with my friends. We rarely got together anymore now that everyone was busy with jobs and kids. Besides, it would brighten up an otherwise lousy day.
I quickly texted back, I’m in.
Chapter 10
Cara
I pushed Emma’s cart into the corner, deciding to talk to her later, then hurried to my scooter, anxious to see my friends. I wished I could tell them about my dilemma and get some advice, but I didn’t want to spill Beau’s secret, at least not unless it was my last resort.
My mood lifted as I motored to Danny’s Diner. With mild weather most of the year, pretty, tropical foliage, and charming shops and cottages, Sweet Bay had a way of making the world seem like a better place. The 50’s style diner sat in the center of town, the most popular place to eat.
I spotted Mandie as soon as I walked in the diner, or rather, heard her, even over the peppy oldies music. With pale white skin, a shiny, black bob, and bright red lips, everything about Mandie said drama. She sat at the head of a large table in the middle of the diner, already regaling her audience with stories while feeding her baby and digging quarters out of her purse so her older kids could amuse themselves
with the arcade games in the corner where Leanne’s kids were already making a racket.
Leanne, a stay-at-home mom who made her own statement with bright, patterned clothes and big, curly, brown hair sat at the other end of the table. Lindsey, a sous chef at the Sweet Bay Table, and Tessa, the owner of the Sweet Bay employment agency, sat on either side of them. I plopped down in the empty seat next to Lindsey. Everyone turned to wave at me, but Mandie kept talking.
“What are we talking about?” I whispered into Lindsey’s mass of wavy, blonde hair.
“Steven Montgomery. Turns out he had a brain tumor and had to have surgery. Oh, and Calvin and Layla are an item,” she whispered back.
I smirked. “That’s old news to me. I heard about it the other day.”
Mandie must’ve overheard me because she stopped mid-sentence and gawked at me. “That’s not what I called you here to talk about, anyway, but you didn’t think to tell your friends about it?”
I bit my lip and wrinkled my nose. “Sorry, I’ve been kind of busy.”
The waiter interrupted us to take our drink orders before anyone had a chance to ask me what I’d been up to. We all knew what we wanted to eat, so we ordered our food, too. By the time we were done, my comment had been forgotten.
“So, tell us what this big news is, Mandie,” I said as soon as the waiter walked away, hoping she had something I could turn into a story.
She leaned forward, paused for dramatic effect, then stared each of us in the eye. “You can’t breathe a word of this to anybody. I mean anybody. I’m sworn to secrecy.”
I choked back a laugh, faking a coughing spell. Mandie obviously had no concept of what that meant. The waiter hurried over with some water for me, and I gulped it down. Once he was gone and I’d gotten control of myself, Mandie continued.
“I was at the hospital today for Billy’s checkup. You know he got tubes in his ears last week—”
Leanne interrupted. “How’s he doing, by the way? You know, I think Lainey needs tubes in her ears. Every time I take her to the beach, she gets an ear infection.”
“Oh, he’s doing great. He hasn’t gone in the water yet, but the doctor says he’s healing fine.”
I glared at them, willing them to get back to the good stuff. They chatted for a few more minutes, testing my patience, before swinging the conversation back around.
“Okay, so anyway, I was at the hospital, and you’ll never guess who was there, visiting little Mallory Emerson.” Mandie gave another long pause while a hole opened up in the bottom of my stomach so big my cheeseburger could fall right through it.
“Who, Mandie? Just spit it out, already!” Tessa complained.
Feeling dizzy with anxiety, I pinched my eyes closed and clutched at the table, trying to keep myself from barfing. The sounds of the diner clamored in my ears, but I could still hear Mandie’s not-very-subtle whisper.
“Beau Bennett, the movie star!”
My friends’ voices bubbled up around me with excited chatter. I opened my eyes and looked around the diner to see if anyone else had heard her. Fortunately, no one else seemed to be listening in to a group of chatty women.
“I guess he’s supposed to be in rehab, but instead, he’s hiding out at the resort. He wore a disguise, but one of the nurses recognized him, and the next thing you know, half the hospital was there, gawking at him. He doesn’t want anyone to know he’s here, so he offered to give a million dollars to the pediatric department if we keep his secret. We all promised we would, of course. Who could deny the poor, sick kiddos?”
If half the hospital saw Beau, that meant the whole town would know by the end of the day, if they didn’t already. They might mean to keep his secret, but like Mandie, they all had somebody they thought they could safely tell. In a small town like Sweet Bay, it was more like two degrees of separation instead of six.
My friends chattered about Beau for several minutes. The waiter brought our food, but all I could do was stare at my plate. What would this mean?
Beau’s secret was out, and it was only a matter of time before somebody leaked it to the press. Why shouldn’t it be me? But the thought of betraying him like that made the hole in my stomach turn into a bottomless pit. It didn’t seem like a big deal to write scandalous stories about celebrities, until I got to know one.
I was so deep in thought, I didn’t realize the conversation around me had gone silent until Lindsey elbowed me. “Cara?”
I yanked my head up and looked around the table. Everyone was staring at me. “Huh?”
“What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to cry on your cheeseburger.”
Should I tell them? There was no point hiding it from them. They already knew Beau was in town. Maybe they could help me decide. I took a big breath then launched into my confession.
“I knew Beau was in town. I overheard Calvin talking to him. I’ve been pretending to be his maid, trying to get some dirt on him for a story.”
They gawked at me in silence for several seconds, then they all started jabbering at once. My head whipped back and forth between them as I tried to keep up.
“What’s he like?”
“Is he as gorgeous in person as he is in the movies?”
“Have you learned any juicy secrets?”
“What are you going to write about him?”
I held up a hand to stop them. “He’s definitely gorgeous. Tall, tan, muscular. That thing he does with his hair? He does that all the time. It’s really sexy. And the way he smiles, it’s like he wants to devour you. But he’s as lot different than I thought he would be. He’s not a conceited jerk; he’s sweet, and sensitive. I think he’s really sad and lonely.”
“You got all that from cleaning his room?” Tessa asked.
I sucked in my lip and stared at my plate again. Did I dare tell them all of it? What could it hurt? These were my best friends. I looked up, a sly smile on my face. “We spent a little more time together than that.”
Leanne raised an eyebrow at me like a typical mother, trying to get the truth out of her kids. “How much time?”
“He asked me to spend the day with him yesterday. We went boating.” I grinned as the memory washed over me again like a wave.
“Oh my gosh, Cara, you’ve got a crush on him, don’t you?” Lindsey shoved my shoulder.
My cheeks flamed, and I took a sip of water. “He kissed me.”
“What?!” All four of them screeched, and several other diners turned to stare at us.
“You have to tell us every detail!” Lindsey said, and they all leaned forward like vultures over fresh meat.
I waved it off, trying to cool my blazing cheeks at the same time. “It’s nothing really. I mean, it was a great kiss. Like, a really great kiss. But it didn’t mean anything. Like I said, he’s lonely, and since he’s been in hiding, I’m the only person around. He’ll be gone soon, and he’ll forget all about me.”
“Why didn’t I take a job at the resort? I could’ve been the maid who entertained the lonely movie star!” Mandie stuck out her bottom lip and slapped her hand to her chest.
Tess made a shocked face. “You’re married!”
“But not to a gorgeous movie star! I love my husband, but a girl can still fantasize. You’ll understand after you’ve been married for a while.”
Leanne nodded knowingly, and Tessa and Lindsey just shook their heads.
“So, when are you going to see him again?” Mandie wiggled her eyebrows at me.
“Here’s the thing — I got chewed out by my editor this morning for writing too nice of an article about Calvin Montgomery, so I went to Beau’s room this morning, intent on finding something I could write a good story about. But he wasn’t there; he was at the hospital. He left me a note and asked me to come by later. But then all this happened. Now I don’t know what to do.”
Tessa gave me a confused look. “Why don’t you write about him hiding out here instead of going to rehab? That seems like a pretty big story to me.”
Lindsey rolled her eyes at Tess. “Don’t you get it? She likes him. She doesn’t want to betray him.”
Tess glanced at me again. “But I thought you said it was nothing.”
Mandie pulled her straw out of her glass and waved it around. “A kiss is never nothing. And a kiss from a sexy movie star? That is definitely something.” She pointed the straw at me like a laser target, zeroing in on the truth.
Even though I knew there was no future for Beau and me, I still couldn’t ignore the way he made me feel. And if I submitted that story, it would definitely ruin anything between us. My heart ached just thinking about it. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for celebrity journalism, after all.
Everyone had advice on what I should do, but all of it was different, so I still had no idea what was the right thing to do. I wandered around town on my scooter after I left the diner, thinking, but somehow I ended up back at the resort. Once I was there, I couldn’t resist the temptation to go see Beau one more time, even if it was only to say goodbye.
I slipped in the side door nearest the penthouse elevator, Emma’s keycard in hand. I was just about to swipe it in the reader when I saw a guy wearing a black uniform with the word Security written across his chest coming towards me.
I pulled my hand away and prayed he wouldn’t ask me how I had obtained a keycard to the penthouse or why I was heading there. Maybe he didn’t notice the card in my hand because he skipped the questions and said, “This elevator goes to the penthouse. You want the one in the lobby.” He pointed in that direction.
“Oh, okay.” I quickly scurried around the corner. That wasn’t going to work. I peeked around the corner and noticed he’d turned around and was walking back the other way. Did I dare try it again? I was about to when he turned around again, like he was patrolling the area.
Stalking the Billionaire Celebrity (Sweet Bay Billionaires Book 2) Page 8