Dreaming With A Broken Heart (Hollywood Legends #1)

by Mary J. Williams

  “He regretted the loss of the child. He suggested the next time I found out I was pregnant, I keep my head down and my mouth shut.”

  “I’m sorry, Jade.”

  “I wasn’t. It was the proverbial straw, Garrett. The camel’s back hadn’t snapped. It was lying in a million little pieces. For the first time in my life, I looked at my father with clear eyes. He would never change. The love I always wanted wasn’t going to magically wash over him. Without another word, I went to my room and packed my bags.”

  “Good for you.”

  “I should have left it all behind,” Jade whispered. “I should have called a cab, gone to a hotel. Stopping to pack almost got me killed.”

  “Stephen caught you?” Garrett steeled himself for what she was about to say.

  “I don’t know why he came home early. Bad luck on my part, I guess. He was more hungover than drunk. I remember thinking how handsome he used to be. Maybe I was the problem. During the few years we were married he put on weight, stopped working out.”

  “It isn’t your fault he became a fat, lazy bastard.”

  “No. I told myself that. I didn’t have time to tell Stephen. He took one look at the suitcase and he did something he had never done before. He punched me in the face. The next thing I know Sally, one of the maids, was standing over me screaming. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but I couldn’t form the words. I looked down at my body. There was nothing but red. Blood, everywhere. I wasn’t scared. I couldn’t feel a thing. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital. Three days later.”

  The only sound in the room was the air conditioner fan clanking its own odd rhythm. Garrett didn’t want to push Jade. He held her close, offering his silent support.

  “The doctor told me I almost died,” Jade said. The words were so matter-of-fact. The words chilled Garrett to the bone. “I don’t know why that didn’t frighten me. Maybe I was in shock. I certainly wasn’t in any pain. Whatever they pumped into my veins gave me this floaty, I don’t give a shit, feeling. Suddenly I understood why people became addicts. For the first time in my life, I was carefree. Why wouldn’t I want to keep that feeling?”

  “Jade…”

  “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “The doctor gave me a prescription when I left the hospital. I threw it away before I gave into the impulse to have it filled. I knew drugs weren’t the answer.”

  “Going back to your father’s house must have been difficult.”

  “You mean, how could I go back?” Jade shook her head. “I was in no shape to strike out on my own, Garrett. Do you want to know what he did to me? There was so much speculation. Most of it wrong.”

  “Do you want to tell me?” Garrett asked quietly.

  “I think I do. My therapist thinks I need to talk about it. With someone other than her. So far, you’ve been great. Amazing.” Jade kissed the side of his neck. It was a lovely, intimate gesture that Garrett found surprisingly moving.

  “Have you remembered what happened?”

  “No,” Jade said. “It’s all secondhand. Sometimes it freaks me out, sometimes I feel completely detached. I can’t guarantee what version you’ll get.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  “Stephen always carried a knife. One of those with a million and one uses. According to the police, after he knocked me out, he took out the longest blade and started carving. More like hacking, really.”

  Garrett couldn’t control his gasp of shock. It wasn’t her description that got to him; it was the calm way Jade told it.

  “I guess you’re getting detached, Jade.”

  “Whatever works for you.” As soon as he said the words, Garrett realized he meant them. There was no right or wrong way to survive something like what Jade went through. All that mattered was her survival.

  “Most of the cuts were shallow. A lot of blood — not much damage. It was the last cut that did the damage,” Jade took a deep breath. “A fraction of an inch to the left, he would have hit my liver. Turns out it wasn’t the cuts, but the loss of blood that almost killed me. No one is entirely sure how long I lay there before Sally found me.”

  “She found you in time, thank God.”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, Stephen got away. He’s still out there.”

  “Do the police have any idea what happened?”

  “I’m sure they have their theories. None that they’ve shared with me.”

  “What do you think?”

  Garrett knew the answer before Jade spoke.

  “I think my father either had him killed or helped him get away.” She tipped her head, peering at Garrett. “Does that shock you?”

  “I wish it did, Jade. But no. After what you’ve told me, neither of those things would surprise me.”

  “My life is so fucked up.”

  “Well, done,” Garrett chuckled. “Who said you needed to learn to cuss? You, honey, are a natural.”

  “I have some ugly scars.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I do.” Jade’s voice lowered. “I don’t want you to see them, Garrett. I’m too thin and my stomach is covered with red, puckered lines. I don’t care if most of them will eventually fade. I don’t care.”

  “Shh,” Garrett said in a soothing voice. He smoothed back the hair from Jade’s face, stroking repeatedly. “I promise, until you decide it’s time, I won’t ask to look.”

  “We can keep the lights out?”

  “Until you’re ready.”

  As Garrett lay holding Jade, he wasn’t thinking about her scars. The lights being on or off didn’t matter. His worries were centered on Jade’s husband. He hoped Anson Marlow did have the bastard killed. If not, he hoped the bastard slipped up and the police captured him. Soon. If not, Jade was still in danger.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GARRETT THOUGHT LONG and hard about Jade’s situation. Last night, after he left the motel and was in his own bed, he spent a sleepless night running everything through his head. Over and over again. He couldn’t fix her situation at home. As much as he wanted to storm in, punch her father’s lights out, then insist she come with him immediately, that wasn’t going to happen — for so many reasons.

  First, what would he do with her? Put her up in a hotel? Move her in with him? Neither of them was ready for that; Garrett didn’t know if they ever would be. Their relationship was undefined. Lovers? Not yet. Friends? They were making progress in that direction. Getting to know each other bit by bit. It was new. Like Jade. Fragile, yet getting stronger every day.

  Garrett did know he cared. He couldn’t wait around wondering if Jade’s husband would someday show up and hurt her again. The next time she might not be lucky enough to get away with a scarred body. Next time, she might die.

  “Hey, are you coming down with something?”

  Garrett tried to shake off his morbid thoughts, and then turned to Hamish.

  “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  “It’s ninety-five in the shade and you just shivered. That can’t be normal.”

  No, Garrett thought. There was nothing normal about imagining a woman dead. If he could do anything to keep Jade safe, he would.

  “I’m fine,” Garrett assured his friend. “My mind wandered. Let’s get back to the task at hand. We have most of our film crew assembled. Who’s missing?”

  Garrett could tell Hamish wasn’t completely convinced something wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t push the matter.

  “The main parts are in place. It’s a good group. We’ve worked with most of them before. Bill Wyman has a new assistant.”

  Garrett frowned. This was news to him.

  “What happened to Felicity?”

  “She’s moved on,” Hamish said.

  “In Bill speak, that means he screwed around on her. How many times has that happened since we’ve known him?”

  “This is the third.” Hamish shrugged. “Felicity was good. She won’t have a problem finding another job. She’s ready to take the lead on a film.” />
  “Bill can’t be faulted as a teacher and mentor. Professionally, he’s exactly who you want to work with. Personally, he’s a train wreck. A damn charming train wreck, by all accounts.”

  “Luckily, we aren’t his type,” Hamish chuckled.

  Bill Wyman was one of the best cinematographers in the business. Or so he told Garrett the first time they worked together. It was Garrett’s first time flying solo. Bill’s second. Neither of them lacked self-confidence. The potential for a clash of egos was strong. For whatever reason, they worked together like a couple of well-oiled cogs. No friction. No temperamental blow-ups.

  This was their fourth movie together. Bill was on his third assistant. The personal drama never affected his work. If anything, a new woman energized him. Garrett couldn’t imagine living his life that way. However, it wasn’t his life. It was Bill’s. As long as the work didn’t suffer, as far as Garrett was concerned, his cameraman’s private life was nobody else’s business.

  Garrett listened while Hamish updated him on the best candidates to round out the crew. The choices were relatively simple. They liked giving newcomers a break. Whenever possible, they hired at least one person with little or no experience. Giving a hand up, was how his father put it. It was a Landis tradition. One Garrett believed in perpetuating. Unfortunately, this time his movie was under a tighter than usual schedule. There would be no time for teaching moments. He needed every member of his crew to be fast, efficient, and experienced. Bill’s new assistant had him a little worried.

  “We start shooting in five days,” Garrett said. “Two weeks here in L.A., two in Oregon. I refuse to go over budget, Hamish.”

  “Hey, Wyatt isn’t producing this one,” Hamish countered.

  “Meaning, unlike my brother, this producer will cut us a little slack?”

  “Wyatt does hold the purse strings tight.”

  “Which is why all of his movies make money,” Garrett reminded his friend. “Wyatt is the best.”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to sound critical,” Hamish rushed to reassure Garrett. “I was joking — mostly.”

  “I’m not offended.” Garrett gave Hamish a friendly slap on the back. “Hell, Wyatt would take it as a compliment.”

  “Too right.” Hamish grinned.

  “It’s important I prove myself when I’m away from my family, Hamish. This one is all me. I’m getting it done on time and under budget. I want to prove I’m not a flash in the pan backed by the Landis name.”

  “You’re too sensitive, Garrett.” Hamish shook his head. “You’ve made your own name.”

  “I’m getting there,” Garrett agreed. “In a few months, when we start Exile, no one will question my ability to make any kind of movie I want. Drama, comedy, adventure. I won’t be pigeonholed, Hamish. What we do today, every day, is one more step in that direction.”

  “I’m with you, brother. I plan on riding your coattails to the top of the heap.”

  “Heap?”

  Garrett grinned at the image of him and Hamish crawling over other directors, smashing fingers, bloodying mouths, breaking bones. Whatever it took to get to the top. Considering this was Hollywood, it was damn accurate.

  “Heaps of adulation. Heaps of money.” Hamish closed his eyes as though he were picturing it all. “Let’s not forget the women. I trail behind you and your brothers, consoling the ones not lucky enough to catch your fancies.”

  “You do fine on your own,” Garrett said wryly. “More than fine. Women love that brogue. What did your last girlfriend call you? A Scottish leprechaun?”

  “She left off the Scottish part.” Hamish gave Garrett a disgruntled look. “She didn’t know the difference. Can you believe that? I don’t care how great her ass was. When she called me Irish, it was over.”

  “We all have our lines in the sand.”

  An hour later, alone in his office, Garrett wondered if, where Jade was concerned, there was something that would make him walk away? As with everything else involving Jade, it was too soon to tell.

  Garrett knew one thing. Steps had to be taken to find out what happened to Stephen Marsh. Picking up his phone, he searched his contacts. There it was. He hit the name, hoping the call didn’t go to voicemail.

  “Garrett,” the familiar voice answered after only two rings. “What the hell does my least favorite Landis brother want?”

  Garrett knew two things about Jack Winston. He was as easygoing as they came, and when push came to shove, he was one tough son of a bitch. He and his best friend owned a billion-dollar cyber-security empire. Before they hit it big, Jack and Drew Harper were the security. They spent several years in Hollywood protecting some of the industry’s biggest names.

  Garrett’s mother and father used the duo on occasion, during movie premieres, or personal appearances. Bodyguards to the stars. They were tough, discreet, and looked good in a tux. More James Bond than Hulk Hogan. Suave — but deadly. One of the few times they had to show their muscle was when an overzealous fan lunged at Garrett’s mother when she was promoting a movie. Jack moved so fast, most people were never aware anything happened.

  Caleb Landis knew. Jack tried to brush off the incident, saying he was doing his job — nothing more. As far as Caleb and the rest of the Landis men were concerned, Jack was a hero. If he needed a favor. Big or small. Night or day. All he needed to do was ask.

  That favor had never been claimed. Now, ironically it was Garrett who needed something from Jack.

  “Are you still going on about something that happened five years ago?”

  “There is no statute of limitations when it comes to a man’s wife.”

  Garrett rolled his eyes.

  “Rose wasn’t your wife five years ago,” he reminded the other man. “In fact, you didn’t know her. How can I be in your dog house for flirting with a completely unattached woman?”

  “Flirting?” Jack asked. “According to Rose, you invited her to spend a week in Jamaica. In a villa on a private beach. Clothing discouraged.”

  He didn’t give it away with his voice, yet Garrett knew Jack was grinning. He could easily picture the big man, in his office, feet up on his desk, enjoying every second of the grief he was handing out. Jack didn’t give a damn how many men propositioned his wife. As long as it was in the past. Rose O’Brian was a beautiful woman with a personality to match. Garrett met Rose at a party in New York given by a mutual friend. He was attracted, made his pitch. She shot him down with such good humor and charm he ended up with only a minor dent in his ego.

  “You know I’m not the only Landis to make a play for Rose.”

  “The hell you say?” Garrett heard Jack’s feet hit the ground. “Which one?” There was an ominous silence. “And when?”

  “Relax,” Garrett chuckled. “Nate was at the same party where Rose and I met. We’re twins, Jack. Sometimes we have the same taste in women. What am I saying? Rose appeals to every man’s taste.”

  “That’s true,” Jack said. “I suppose I can overlook it. Besides, I trust Rose implicitly.”

  “Of course you do.” Garrett couldn’t resist one more jab. “By the way, Colt will be on location near Harper Falls next month. Maybe he should stop by.”

  “How near?”

  Well, over four hundred miles, actually. Harper Falls, Washington was located in the upper eastern part of the state on the Columbia River. Colt’s movie was filming in Calgary, Alberta. Hardly dropping in distance. However, Jack didn’t need to know that.

  “Just say the word, Jack. Colt is a very social person.”

  “Okay.” Jack gave a friendly laugh. “Enough about your pretty boy brother. You called for a reason. What’s up?”

  Losing the light banter, Garrett gave a brief but detailed outline of the situation. It wasn’t necessary to share the most intimate details. Jack got the picture.

  “I don’t know what to say, Garrett.” Jack’s voice was filled with compassion. “I’m sorry your friend had to go through that. The bastard husband is gone? W
ithout a trace?”

  “I’ve called a few friends. Done some asking. Not that I’ve gotten very far. My police connections are more of the fictional variety,” Garrett said.

  “Alex Fleming runs the physical part of H&W now. He’s ex-Army Intelligence. Finding things out is his specialty.”

  “I appreciate it, Jack. It makes no sense that he could vanish.” Garrett paused. “Unless he had help.”

  “Who do you suspect?”

  This was the tricky part. Anson Marlow was a powerful man. His connections ran, not just from coast to coast, but worldwide. Garrett didn’t want word of this getting back to Jade’s father. That was why he called Jack. The man and his friends were discretion personified.

  “Start with Anson Marlow.”

  “I DON’T THINK this is going to work, Garrett.”

  The room was as pitch black as possible. The candles from dinner were extinguished, no crack of light slipped through the drawn curtains. Tonight Garrett wanted Jade to feel safe in her cocoon of darkness.

  “It is all about touch, Jade.”

  They stood, side by side, near the bed. Nothing was different from the last few nights they met. Garrett kissed Jade. First with tenderness, his tongue asking for admittance into her mouth, not demanding it. Unlike the first few times, Jade’s response was instantaneous. She didn’t hesitate to open to him. Her response was no longer shy. She was a full, eager participant.

  Jade’s arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer. She angled her head, her mouth welcoming. Her confidence grew to the point where she was now the aggressor. She no longer waited for Garrett to initiate every move. Her tongue met his with enthusiasm, not trepidation.

  Jade liked to touch — to be touched. The pleasure she received from running her hands over his arms, his back, up his legs, was obvious. Garrett loved when her breath quickened from simply exploring the ridges of his stomach muscles.

  All this was done fully clothed.

  They were making progress. As long as he didn’t touch her stomach, Jade let him put his hand under her shirt, cup her breast. That was good, very good — for both of them. Feeling her nipple harden sent a shot of desire through Garrett’s body. The catch in her breathing as he teased the hardened tip. The way she whispered his name.