Hollywood Lies: The Trinity Masters Warrior Scholars: Book One

by Lila Dubois

“Smoking hot,” Montana agreed.

  “Trixie Stokes is in our dining room.” Tate looked around as if waiting for someone to gasp in amazement.

  “Thank you for the compliments. Good to know it isn’t just movie magic.” She glanced at Levi and winked again; this time it was clearly only for him. “Andre, right?” She walked toward the former airman. “Point me in the direction of vegetables and a cutting board.”

  Five minutes later, Andre had given everyone an assigned station, supplies had been handed out, and Levi was juicing a lemon. Juicing a lemon while standing next to an A-list movie star who had just joined their secret society.

  Life was wild.

  “Bea, do you want wine, beer, or a mixed drink?” Tate asked.

  “What are my wine options?”

  “Red or white.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Tate.” Montana was ricing cauliflower so hard and fast, it looked like he was trying to break the ricer—and he might have been. No ricer, no riced cauliflower. “We have a couple of really nice California whites—a sauvignon blanc and a chardonnay, but also a blend and some pét-nat sparkling. In reds—”

  “You are such a wine snob,” Tate interjected.

  “I don’t see you complaining when the cases show up.”

  “Montana has family who own a couple wineries in California,” Levi explained to Beatrix.

  “Fucking legacies,” Andre said.

  “Legacies.” Beatrix perked up. “You mentioned that term, Levi. I’m a legacy, or should have been, right?” She paused, knife hovering over a hunk of white radish. “Are...we allowed to talk about this?”

  “Yes.” Montana finished spinning the handle of the ricer with a triumphant twirl. “There’s your stupid cauliflower.”

  “Salt the water,” Andre said, without looking up from the steaks he was preparing.

  Montana narrowed his eyes, grabbed the small saltcellar and, ignoring the spoon, started to tip the whole bowl into the water.

  “Stop,” Andre shouted. “Fuck you. Get out of the kitchen.”

  “I’ll have white,” Beatrix said.

  Montana grinned and turned to Tate. “The white blend for our guest, and a glass for me.”

  “Fuck you. Get your own drink.”

  “Fuck you guys,” Levi all but snarled. “You don’t have to start every fucking sentence with fuck.”

  Beside him, Beatrix made a choking sound. He looked over and realized she was laughing. He thought about what he’d said. “Argh.”

  Tate brought Beatrix wine, Levi a beer, Andre a glass of red, and flipped Montana the bird.

  “So legacies are…” Beatrix looked around, clearly a little wary of talking about anything related to the Trinity Masters.

  “Legacies are kids of members.” Montana returned with his own glass of wine. “My parents were members.”

  “And you have...three parents?” Beatrix slid a stack of thin radish sticks into a bowl on top of already prepped romaine.

  “Two dads and a mom. But my mom was also a legacy. Meaning my grandparents on her side were also members. I’m fourth generation Trinity Masters through her. My dads didn’t know anything about it until they were recruited.”

  Beatrix paused. “Wait...how many grandparents do you have?”

  “Technically, seven. Two each for the dads—makes four. Plus my mom’s three parents.”

  “Holidays must have been…” Beatrix laughed softly.

  “They were weird, no lie. My dads’ parents didn’t know about the Trinity Masters, or that their sons were actually married to each other.” Montana frowned. “Lying to their parents was hard, but they made it work. See, my one dad, Anthony, he stayed in the Marine Corps. He and my mom were legally married and they acted like a couple in public. He’s a pretty high-ranking officer and you kind of have to be a family man for that. Though now Mom’s based up in Alaska with her research.”

  “Montana’s mom does dark matter research and is going to accidentally explode the planet someday,” Tate said.

  “Fuck you, Tate.” Montana didn’t even bother to look at the other man while cursing him. “Anyway, my other dad went a different route. Works for the Pentagon. His job requires secrecy and security, and he wasn’t super close to his parents anyway, so before they died, every two or three years we’d go visit them. As far as they knew, I was their grandkid, Mom their daughter-in-law, and the fact that there weren’t any public records about us or social media...well, that was easy to explain, thanks to his job.”

  Levi concentrated on opening the tin of anchovies, not wanting Montana to see his surprised expression. This was the first time Montana had spoken so openly about his family.

  It was Beatrix. Something about her made everyone feel at ease. Seeing her now made him realize how badly she’d been rattled at the Magic Castle because of Stefan being there.

  Speaking of Stefan...

  “My aunt on my mother’s side married a guy who’s big into wine in California. Her other spouse does something with tech in San Francisco. Anyway, that’s who makes the wine.” Montana raised his glass in a toast.

  Beatrix leaned forward to clink her glass against his, then took a sip. “Oh, oh, that’s delicious. It’s a blend?”

  “It is.”

  “I need the name.”

  “Ah, unfortunately you can’t buy it. It’s one of their smaller vineyards. They do custom MicroCrush and eco-practices testing.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “But I could get you a case or two.” Montana smiled. “A welcome to the society present.”

  Beatrix took another sip, her gaze sliding over to Levi. He felt her looking at him, and his stupid heart started to hammer against his ribs. He carefully measured out the oil for the dressing.

  “I was thinking about my own family,” Beatrix said. “About the man who saved my great-grandfather’s house and business during internment. I wonder if he was more than just a business partner.”

  “Ask Franco,” Tate said. “He’s the biggest history geek who ever geeked.”

  “I met him. He’s fun. I mean, I think he and Sebastian were putting on a bit of a scene to try to make me feel at ease, but I liked him.”

  Levi had been at a few meetings with those two, and he doubted they were putting it on.

  “They’re the Grand Master’s advisors, right?” she asked.

  “They are,” Levi answered. “If you need something, you go through them.”

  “Who is the Grand Master?” she asked. “I mean, is her identity a secret forever, or after a year or something, do I level up and get to know?”

  “It’s a secret,” Andre said as he rubbed a garlic clove over the cast-iron griddle he was heating up. “But I’m pretty sure most of the legacies know.”

  Everyone looked at Montana, who held up one hand. “I don’t know who it is.”

  “You suspect.”

  “Yeah, I mean…” Montana shrugged. “Some families have been members for generations. Like...all the generations. They’re going to figure it out.”

  “Ohh, so who is it?” Beatrix walked over to Montana. “Just whisper it in my ear.”

  “You’re dangerous, Trix—I mean Bea.”

  She winked at Montana, then glanced around. “What else can I do, Andre?”

  “Since you’re the only one not bitching about helping, can you check the cauliflower?”

  Looking at her, the graceful way she moved, her amazing ability to make people feel at ease, Levi understood why Stefan had fallen in love with her. It must have killed him to have to walk away, knowing he’d break her heart.

  “So if I have kids,” Beatrix said through a cloud of steam as she drained the stock pot into a colander, “they’ll be legacies, be members.”

  “Actually,” Montana said slowly, “being a legacy doesn’t guarantee membership. That was one of my greatest fears growing up—that I wouldn’t be good enough to be a member.”

  “Wait, I thought no one could know about this
who isn’t a member. If a kid grows up with three parents, they’re going to know… What happens if they don’t get in? But they know?”

  There was a moment of silence, and it was once again Montana who answered. “They’re watched. Carefully. If they tell anyone, risk the society…”

  “Oh.” Beatrix looked worried.

  “Don’t underestimate what the Trinity Masters can and will do,” Levi warned her. To his shock, Beatrix walked over to him, standing so close she was nearly leaning against his side. Seeking comfort? From him? Levi cleared his throat. “One of the reasons we—I mean all the guys who live in this house—are here, is that the Grand Master wanted, well, needed, a security team she could call on at short notice.”

  “Wait.” Beatrix looked up at him. “I thought you were a grad student.”

  “I am. We all are. Harvard, Harvard, Harvard, MIT.” Levi pointed at each of them in turn.

  “Let me get this straight.” Beatrix hopped up to sit on the counter. “You four are all former military badasses.”

  Montana shook his head. “Not Andre. He was in the Air Force.”

  “Fuck you, your steak is going to be well done.”

  “I take it back!” Montana yelped.

  “And you’re all now going to some of the best schools in the country for graduate work. So you’re brilliant.” Beatrix rolled right over Andre and Montana’s back and forth with no trouble. She adapted fast. “And you’re also a security team for the leader of a super-secret society.”

  “Yup.” Andre flipped the steaks, his eye on the clock so he could carefully flip them every minute.

  “We could kill you, either with boring shit about Latin in Levi’s case, or with our bare hands.” Montana wiggled his fingers.

  “The Warrior Scholars.” Tate struck a pose.

  “The what?” Beatrix asked, her expression delighted. “You have a fun code name?”

  “That’s what our handler calls us.” Tate had taken over and was spooning the cooked riced cauliflower into a white serving bowl. “I think we’re more henchmen, but he’s sticking to Warrior Scholars.” He slid the bowl into one of the ovens to stay warm.

  Levi quickly finished blending the dressing, then poured it over the salad. As Andre set the steaks aside to rest, Levi backtracked to the living room. He’d only spent a couple days with Beatrix, and he was crushing on her so hard it was embarrassing. Thinking back to their meeting at the Magic Castle, about the sadness and regret he’d seen in Stefan, his heart went out to the other man.

  Loving, and losing, someone like Beatrix Stokes would be heartbreaking, even if you were the one to walk away. Now she might know why Stefan had said “no”, but based on their conversation on her patio, Beatrix was still rightly pissed. Levi’s assignment was complete—and that meant she was going to leave, which was a whole other issue he didn’t want to face—but maybe, before Beatrix headed back to L.A., he could help ease the hurt he’d seen in both of them.

  Pulling his phone from his pocket, Levi typed out a short message.

  She joined. Still in Boston. You two should talk.

  Levi put his phone back in his pocket and, feeling a little bit like Cupid, he went to join the others.

  Dinner was delicious, and their conversation slid easily from discussion of the Trinity Masters to Beatrix telling stories about Hollywood. When he got up to clear plates and use the bathroom, Levi checked his phone. There was a message from Stefan.

  T.M. is lucky. I don’t want to hurt her anymore.

  What sort of bullshit was that? A good face-to-face conversation was what they needed.

  Come to Boston. Talk to her.

  Levi had a feeling that if Stefan met with her here, where she’d seen and heard how powerful the Trinity Masters really were, it would make it easier for her to understand Stefan’s point of view.

  The speech bubble appeared, disappeared, then appeared again.

  “Don’t be a pussy, Stefan,” Levi muttered.

  When and where?

  Levi grinned and replied. Taking her to the Boston Park Plaza suite. Tomorrow?

  Won’t get in until afternoon. Keep her there.

  Levi tucked his phone back in his pocket, feeling virtuous. Last time Beatrix saw Stefan, she’d smacked the shit out of him. He doubted that was how it was going to go this time. There wouldn’t be a happy ending, there couldn’t be, but at least Beatrix and Stefan would both have closure.

  And you have an excuse to spend more time with her. Just try not to fall in love, dumbass.

  As he walked back into the dining room, Beatrix turned to look at him, her smile widening.

  It might already be too late for that.

  Levi had a very bad feeling he was already in love.

  Chapter Eight

  Beatrix unlocked the door to the suite in the Boston Park Plaza, and Levi followed her in with her suitcase. She pulled off the baseball cap she’d borrowed from him and her large Chopard sunglasses. Mercifully, she’d been able to spend an almost fan-free day sightseeing in Boston with Levi, who was an amazing tour guide.

  It was the first time she’d used the room, since she had spent the previous night with the Warrior Scholars—she grinned as she thought about how appropriate that name was. Beatrix wasn’t sure she could recall when she’d had a better time. Levi and his roommates had been accommodating, fun hosts, who’d fed her an incredible meal and kept her wineglass full. She’d intended to Uber to the hotel last night, but all four men claimed it was too late and insisted she stay with them.

  Levi had offered her his bed, and her libido had started cheering. Sadly, he meant she could have the bed without him in it, and had given up his room, claiming he would be more than comfortable on a recliner. She wished he’d opted to share his bed with her, but Levi really was the epitome of a gentleman.

  Dammit.

  She hadn’t had sex since Stefan broke her heart. She hadn’t even felt an inkling of desire until she’d walked into the Magic Castle and laid eyes on the far-too-sexy-for-her-own-good former Ranger.

  Stefan.

  Just thinking his name never failed to send a piercing pain to her chest. Her life had become a whirlwind since Levi’s arrival in L.A. and his subsequent invitation to join the Trinity Masters. As such, she hadn’t had time to sort out her feelings regarding Stefan and what she now understood was his real reason for walking away from her proposal and their relationship.

  While part of her was relieved to know her feelings hadn’t been as one-sided as she’d originally thought—she was certain now that the heartbreak had been on both ends—that didn’t soothe the anger she felt over the fact he’d put them in that untenable position to begin with.

  Levi placed her suitcase beside one of the three bedroom doors and started to walk through the rooms. “Nice suite.”

  Beatrix had spent more than her fair share of time in hotels. So much so, they all looked alike to her. Though she could see that for someone who wasn’t accustomed to traveling like a movie star that the large suite was fairly swanky.

  “I suspect your accommodations while serving in the military were less comfortable.”

  Levi popped out of the third bedroom and chuckled. “Yeah. Depending on where we were, we might get a sleeping bag and a tent. Though more often than not, we just slept outside on the ground with a blanket.”

  He went back to her suitcase and carried it into the first bedroom, where a truly impressively large bed waited.

  Beatrix shook her head. “I can’t imagine sleeping like that.” She dropped down onto the mattress. “Give me a soft mattress and silk sheets any day.”

  She fell back dramatically, then patted the spot next to her. “Wanna try it out?”

  Levi grinned, then sat next to her.

  She reached for his arm, pulling him toward her. “Really try it out. Lay down.”

  He dropped down next to her, laying on his side, facing her. His upper body was propped up on one elbow, so he used his free hand to brush a s
tray strand of hair away from her eyes.

  The gesture was sweet and charming. Beatrix imagined all the deadly things Levi had no doubt done with his large, callused hands and yet, he made her feel as if she was made of the most delicate glass.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered. She could tell he wanted to, but it felt like something was holding him back.

  “Bea,” he said, her name on his lips sounded almost like a prayer. He moved slowly, his face coming closer. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She’d heard that line a million times in her life, seen it written in articles, plastered across glossy covers, mentioned in trailers and interviews. Sometimes it felt as if all her worth was wrapped up in the luck of the gene pool, in the simple symmetry and pleasant arrangement of a few facial features.

  But when Levi said it, she knew he meant more than just her looks, and the words soaked in deep, like aloe on a sunburn. She’d been so lonely the past few months, starving for this kindness, this closeness with another human being.

  She’d shared a life with Stefan—all her secrets, her hopes, her fears, even just the day-to-day meaningless crap. And when he left, all that remained was a large empty house and soul-crushing loneliness.

  Last night and today, the vault had been opened again...by Levi. They’d been the last two up as his roommates retired and they’d sat side by side on the recliners, the only light provided by a couple of candles and the streetlamp outside, telling all their stories, sharing their lives into the wee hours.

  Today, they’d moved away from past histories to future dreams. As they strolled all over the city, she found herself telling him things she’d only ever shared with Stefan.

  She wasn’t sure what it was about Levi—if it was the way he’d opened her eyes to a secret society she didn’t know existed or if it was the way he looked at her as if he truly saw the real Beatrix, not Trixie. Or maybe it was some combination of both. But his appeal was overpowering, overwhelming and well, pretty fucking hot.

  Levi’s lips were gentle when they first brushed against hers, and she sensed he was going to pull away. Keep it too short and too fucking sweet.