Happily Ever Hers

by Delancey Stewart

  Chapter Eight

  Jace

  We spent another week in the same rhythm, getting to know one another in the evenings, playing games, kissing sometimes. Things were moving slowly and we were both tentative, careful. But it felt good and I was in no rush. This one part of my life felt good and right—while the other parts, namely my family, were less right.

  Juliet had been between movies for a while, so her days were spent mostly at the house, reading scripts for potential projects and fielding calls from her agent. That meant I had a lot of time to relax and study.

  At least until Zac showed up again.

  I was just coming downstairs, having showered after our Monday run, when there was a racket at the side door. I could hear Chad outside, in heated conversation with another male voice as the doorknob rattled.

  I crossed the room and peeked out the window, surprised to see Zac standing on the step, red-faced and yelling at Chad.

  Zac wasn’t a big man, and I knew between Chad and I, we could subdue him easily if needed. What I didn’t know was whether Zac had a weapon. I checked the blade I always wore to ensure it was strapped to my hip.

  "What's going on?" I asked, pulling the door open.

  "That bitch changed the locks on my house?" Zac screamed, turning to face me.

  Zac had been gone for the last month, since the day Juliet had found him eating the personal chef's personal goods on the kitchen counter. The locks had been changed the next day at my direction.

  I looked down at the man in front of me, trying not to think about the closeness he’d shared with Juliet at one time. I kept my tone professional. "No, Mr. Stevens. I changed the locks. The security company felt it was in our client's best interest."

  "It's my house, you stupid piece of—"

  "Ms. Manchester's name is on the deed." There was really no arguing this point, so watching this cretin get red-faced and angry was more entertaining than threatening. He wasn’t reaching for anything in pockets or at his waist, so I was pretty sure he was armed only with his charming personality.

  "Whatever. This is my house. Let me in."

  Part of me thought Zac might be working himself into a heart attack, his face was so red. But at this point, my only obligation was to Juliet. Of course there’d be paperwork if he keeled over outside her house, so it was better to just keep things calm. "No sir," I told him. "As I'm sure Chad informed you, you're on our list of restricted visitors. I'll let Ms. Manchester know you're here, and she can decide if she'd like to see you. Chad," I said, looking over Zac's furious head. "Does Mr. Stevens have an appointment?"

  Chad made a show of looking over the clipboard he held again. "No, Jace, he does not." Chad grinned, unable to hide the fact he enjoyed having the upper hand now and then.

  "Wait here please," I told Zac, closing the door in his face. His eyes bulged on the other side of the glass.

  I turned to find Juliet hovering in the butler's pantry between the kitchen and the dining rooms. "Zac is here?" she said, her soft eyes wide and frightened.

  My heart softened immediately, seeing her looking scared. I wanted to hold her, but of course I couldn’t. "He would like to see you."

  Her eyes became even wider, if that was possible, and they searched my face. "Why?"

  I didn’t want to let the guy in, but technically they were married. I probably owed it to Juliet to let her try to repair things with him if she wanted to. God, I hoped she didn’t want to. I sighed. "Not sure. I guess you can let him tell you."

  "I'm not taking him back, obviously. My lawyer's already working on the divorce papers." She sighed. "I mean, he's trying to blackmail me. Why would he show up here?"

  I thought about that. No man in his right mind would leave Juliet. Maybe he realized what he'd lost. That idea only made me want to run him off the property even more. "If you want to talk to him, find out, I’ll be right here."

  Her eyes squeezed shut and her shoulders sagged, and if Chad and Zac hadn't been just a few feet away, I would have caught her in my arms and held her right then, she looked so vulnerable and sad.

  “I can just send him away.”

  She shook her head. “No. I should be strong. Talk to him if I have to." Her big eyes found mine again as her hand pressed against my chest, sending warmth flooding me. "But you stay with me."

  "Of course," I said. "I'll bring him in, okay?"

  "We'll do it in the dining room." She turned and I watched her sit at the head of the table. I was glad she'd put herself there—it signaled that she was in charge. Elvis took that moment to totter into the room and jump into her lap. Despite the silly dog's affliction, he had a good radar for when Juliet needed support, and that made me love him. Even if he was kind of a mess. Elvis made a snarfing sound as if to signal that he too, was ready.

  I escorted a sputtering Zac from the kitchen door and then stood at one end of the dining room with my arms crossed as he sat to Juliet's side. "Aren't you going to call off your fucking gorilla?" He shot a look my way.

  "That's Jace. And he stays. I can trust him." She said this in a way that made it clear she saw a difference between people she couldn't trust and me.

  "I see that silly excuse for a dog hasn't died yet." Zac glared at Elvis, tucked into Juliet's arms, and I swear the dog grinned at him.

  Good boy, Elvis.

  "What do you want, Zac? You're already suing me, making accusations, threatening me. My lawyer would tell me even letting you in was a mistake." Juliet sounded exhausted and my fingers itched to touch her, to soothe her.

  "Can't we just talk, sweetheart?" He reached toward her and Juliet stiffened. I dropped my arms, took a step closer, and Zac let out a frustrated huff and leaned back in his chair. "Fine. We can do this your way."

  Juliet waited, saying nothing.

  "Is this the guy?" He threw a thumb my way. "Is this the guy you've been fucking?" It took every ounce of restraint I had not to dive at him, tackle him to the ground and pound those words back into his mouth.

  Juliet's face went slack. "Excuse me?"

  "While we were married? I should have known."

  I realized he was just grasping at straws. For a minute I worried Juliet was about to cave, to sigh in defeat and walk away, but pride and a quiet respect flooded me when her shoulders stiffened and her eyes turned hard. "I find you face down in my personal chef and you have the nerve to come back here and accuse me of cheating? You have the nerve to ask if I was fucking my bodyguard while we were married, while you were busily sticking your dick in everything that moved? And you have the nerve to try to blackmail me for my money? My estate?"

  Zac didn’t even flinch. "This was joint property while we were together. Everything you earned while we were married is fair game."

  "Listen to yourself," she said, her voice practically a hiss. "You're a snake."

  "It was no picnic, being married to you," he said, clearly trying to make her feel sorry for him. "You were never home, always on location, with movie stars like that last guy, that Ryan whatever. I was supposed to believe you weren't fucking them while you were away for months at a time? Leaving me here with this bag of narcoleptic slobber?" He jerked a thumb at Elvis, who made a snarfling noise in response.

  Juliet passed a hand over her face, as if this conversation was testing her last nerve. "Zac," she said quietly. "I didn't have sex with any of my co-stars. And I didn't have sex with Jace or any of my other security. In fact, I didn't have sex with anyone except you. Because we. Were. Married." She stared at him pointedly for a minute. "It was a vow I made. A promise. And I honored it."

  "But now?" Zac seethed, glancing my way again. I clenched my jaw.

  "What I do now is none of your business."

  "Unless you're just continuing an affair that's been going on for years." Zac stood. "My lawyer thinks we have a good shot."

  "At what, Zac? At ruining my life? At taking money and things that don't belong to you? Things that you didn't earn?"

  "Putting u
p with your bullshit was work, sweetheart, believe me. I earned whatever I get out of this."

  "'This was supposed to be a marriage," Juliet said quietly. "I see now it never was. Get out of my house." Pride and relief torpedoed through me.

  "That's my cue," I told Zac, stepping closer.

  "I can see myself out," he said, turning to move toward the front door. I could only imagine what he planned to do as he made his way through the house. He was probably going to grab a lamp or a painting as he passed through the entry way. "The way you came in," I instructed, moving to block his path.

  "Brainless asshole," he said, glaring up at me. I was at least three inches taller than him and easily had fifty pounds of muscle on the guy. I almost wanted him to challenge me, but if I touched him, I'd likely be looking for another job. The firm didn’t smile on killing former clients. Even if they were jerkwads.

  I walked inches behind Zac as he made his way back to the kitchen door, where Chad waited. "Mr. Stevens is done here."

  Chad grinned at him. "I trust you had a nice visit, sir?"

  "You assholes," Zac said, and then he hustled down the driveway and back to his overpriced sports car, no doubt paid for by Juliet Manchester dollars.

  "I love this job," Chad chuckled as I thanked him and went back inside.

  Juliet was still sitting at the table, but her hands were shaking in front of her now. Elvis was asleep in her lap. I hated seeing her so shaken, hated that Zac had that power over her.

  "You okay?" I asked.

  Without a word, she placed Elvis on the floor, stood, crossed the room, and stepped into my chest. My arms went around her and I held her to me, comforting her, and taking too much comfort myself from having her there.

  Chapter Nine

  Juliet

  "A sex tape right now will ruin you," Clarissa, my agent, said on the phone. "As will any entanglement that seems less than ... well, seemly."

  "I need a seemly entanglement," I echoed.

  "Or no entanglements at all," she mused, sounding thoughtful. "Though a fresh new relationship, one that has begun on the heels of your divorce—definitely not before—that could be a good thing."

  Did I tell her? Could I mention Jace? My heart lifted. I cleared my throat. "There actually might be someone," I said, testing the waters. I had a feeling she wouldn't like it. I could already see how dating my bodyguard would play in the tabloids. So far this month I'd had a drug problem, thanks to a photo at the grocery store where I had on oversized sunglasses and a messy bun that was just a little too messy. And I'd also had a nervous breakdown. That photo had been shot in my driveway by a drone, I suspected. I was standing next to my car, my face leaning onto my arm. I remembered that day. It was just a couple days after I'd caught Zac. I had been crying.

  "I have an idea," she said, and my heart sank. She'd ignored my words. Because it didn't matter if there was someone. She would tell me what needed to happen next. She would help me construct the façade I'd wear to keep the wolves at bay. She'd tell me how to act, who to be. Just as she had since my first movie had made me a star. "You and Ryan McDonnell had fantastic chemistry on screen."

  Ryan was a nice guy—a good person. I'd filmed with him months ago, but the movie had just come out. We'd been photographed together at the premiere, arm in arm, and there had been several articles about the pairing on screen. Fans liked it. "Ryan?" I said thoughtfully.

  "It's perfect. A movie star match will be just the thing to distract people from their belief that this divorce is shaking you to pieces. We can't really afford any more stories about you heading for rehab or breaking down. Your image is fragile, Jules. You're America's sweetheart, which is great, but it's not surprising they don't think you're tough enough to survive this nasty divorce. A sex scandal right now would destroy you. We'd have to rebuild from nothing. America's sweetheart doesn't make sex tapes."

  I sighed. America knew very little about what its sweetheart did or didn't do. America didn't seem to care. "Clarissa, I don't know about Ryan. What if there was something real? Someone real?"

  "If you haven't starred with him recently, I'm less interested. And this guy needs to be squeaky clean. Word on the street is that Ryan served in the Peace Corps, which is perfect. Like the military except you get all the service without all the killing and camo."

  "So military service is bad?" I pictured Jace in his Marine Corps photo, looking hot and slightly deadly.

  "It's not what people want for you, that's all I'm saying. Who is this guy?"

  Jace's face flashed to mind as I sat in my bedroom, staring out at the branches of the old Oak that shaded my second-floor window. I saw the bronze skin, the sculpted lips, all the dark lashes fanning over his eyes.

  "He's no one," I said. If I told her about Jace, he'd be thrust into a spotlight, even if she shot down the idea of us dating. She'd have him vetted—not the way he already had been, with a background check. She'd vet him for skeletons, past indiscretions, anything that could tarnish my reputation. And what Jace had already told me about his brother suggested it wouldn't go well. Besides, since Jace worked for Zac and me when we were together, it was a short leap to the conclusion that whatever lay between us might have started before the marriage ended. "Never mind."

  "I'm calling Ryan's agent," Clarissa said. "You need to be seen together, as soon as possible."

  "Why would Ryan agree to this?" I asked, thinking of the jovial guy I'd met on set. Ryan McDonnell seemed like a great guy. But he wasn't my type. Too pretty. Too ... movie star.

  "Being linked to you could skyrocket his sagging career. And maybe we could throw him a bone—didn't Coppola give you carte blanche to choose your costar for the film you're doing next year?"

  She had, and I'd relished the chance to actually choose something for myself, to make a decision for a change. Clarissa knew she had, I didn't even need to answer.

  "So it's perfect. You can offer the role to Ryan if he's willing to spend some time playing love interest right now." She paused, and I could hear her tapping keys, clearly making notes about everything she'd just decided. About my life. "Plan a weekend away or something, a way for you and Ryan to be spotted."

  "I don't want to go away," I said. "If I go anywhere, I have to attend my grandmother's ninetieth birthday party in a week, and I was going to skip that. I'd hoped to lay low."

  "Low is the opposite of what I need from you right now. Where is your grandmother?"

  "Maryland." Dread bubbled in my stomach.

  "Not exactly a hot spot for paparazzi. What part? Beltway?"

  "Kind of," I said. Gran lived nowhere near the beltway, but Clarissa's dictatorial tone was irritating. I felt like a petulant child, since that was how she was treating me.

  "Okay, fair enough. No private jets. Go commercial. Be seen."

  I rolled my eyes. This was going to be beyond painful. The cameras, the fans. And it was exactly what Clarissa wanted. "Okay."

  "I'll have Ryan call you today to set things up."

  "Okay." My heart sank. In the past week, I’d lived in a quiet bubble with Jace, our evenings spent getting to know each other bit by bit, the potential and promise of something glimmering just outside our easy togetherness. It was slow and careful, the opposite of everything else my life had been.

  "Stand by," Clarissa said. "We'll get through this Jules," she added. As if any of this was about her.

  "Yep."

  She ended the call and I sat, staring out the window into a world that I wasn't allowed to navigate on my own. This house was a cage I'd built with fame and money, and my life felt like a role I'd been playing for too long. And it was about to get even more false.

  Chapter Ten

  Jace

  The day Zac visited us, Juliet stayed upstairs for most of the rest of the afternoon, and I worried about where her mind might be. We'd run together that morning, but there was little else for me to do. I could hear her on the phone at various points, and recognized the sounds of her workout a
pp and then the shower that followed.

  I didn't want to be hyperaware of everything she did. I told myself it was my job—it was, after all. But it was also more than that. Since getting to know her a bit, since kissing her, holding her in my arms, it was as if our cells had aligned. I was so much more aware of her than I had been before. And it was almost physically painful to be apart from her. And though I thought about going to talk to her, the employer relationship we still shared made things more complicated than they would have otherwise been. I was at work. She was my client. It would be inappropriate to interfere.

  I'd passed the day studying in the kitchen, taking breaks here and there to try my brother and check in with my mom. Jarred was still MIA, which meant soon I'd need to go looking for him. I was afraid of what I would find.

  By the time evening fell, I was beginning to wonder if Juliet had sneaked out somehow. She hadn't appeared for lunch, hadn't come down for dinner. But just as I was going to give into my concern and head up to check on her, Chad radioed from the front gate to let me know we had company.

  "Movie star douchebag alert," his voice crackled from the walkie beside me on the table where I was closing up my books. The last visitor we’d had made Juliet disappear all day. I wasn’t eager for another.

  "Keep it down, moron," I said. Chad never stopped to consider that movie star douchebags were why he had a job. A damned good one. And he had no way of knowing if Juliet was nearby when he said things like that. "What's up?"

  "Incoming. Ryan McDonnell to meet with Juliet."

  I felt my concern tick up a notch. I had a schedule of Juliet's meetings, and today had been blessedly blank. Something was up. "Got it. Come in with him, okay? He's not on the schedule. I need to go up to talk to Juliet. Is he on your schedule?" I thought maybe I’d just missed it somehow, though the day Chad was more on top of things than me was the day I’d have to quit.