Superstar

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Superstar Page 16

by Danielle Bourdon


  She inched the car up to the intercom and pressed a button.

  Instead of someone coming over the speaker to confirm her identity, the gates slid open. She noticed a security camera next to the intercom, which undoubtedly gave the manager or whoever was monitoring the entrance a good view of her face.

  Either way, she was in.

  Easing along the drive, she whistled to herself as the manicured grounds and finally the Tuscan-style home came into view. It was massive, of course, with a large fountain sitting in the middle of a broad circular drive. The driveway forked off to the right, but Cam followed the curve and parked next to a cobbled walkway that led to the front doors. Comprised of at least two stories, the mansion boasted a large balcony over the doors complete with a long row of marble columns. Ivy twisted up the facade of the structure as if it had been growing there for centuries. Bougainvillea added splashes of bright color on either side of a broad set of steps, which Camryn ascended once she’d parked and exited the car.

  Dramatic lighting began to come on as the afternoon waned toward dusk, adding to the overall appeal. The home was stunning, so much so that Camryn could hardly believe her eyes.

  Wishing she’d had more time to straighten up, she brushed self-consciously at her dark gray skirt then smoothed a palm over her cream crocheted top. She wore a thin flesh-colored camisole beneath and matching nude heels.

  It would have to do.

  She brushed back a stray strand of hair then lifted her hand to knock. Even the doors were incredible, shaped in an arch that reminded Cam of a medieval church.

  One door swung open, and Camryn automatically pasted a smile on her face.

  But it wasn’t a stranger who stood on the threshold, not some manager of a foreign band.

  It was Maximo Payne.

  Dressed in casual slacks and a black henley, jaw covered in dark whiskers and his forelock hanging across his forehead, he looked every bit as good as the last time she’d seen him.

  “Hello, Camryn,” he said.

  “Maximo. But . . . what are you doing here?” She had trouble shifting through her surprise to make her brain work right.

  “I’m the one who called to make the appointment. It’s me you’re here to see,” he said.

  “You haven’t called or texted or anything.” Fantastic, Camryn. That’s the best you can do?

  “I know. Would you like to come in?” He stepped back to gesture inside.

  Caught between a desire to hug him and tell him off, she entered the grand home. A sweeping, elaborate foyer topped by a domed ceiling gave way to more hallways and an impressive double staircase. There was a definite Tuscan theme both in the architecture and the accents. Paintings decorated the walls, marble lined the floors, and carved arches led into a great hall, smaller sitting room, and a library. Camryn felt humbled by the sheer enormity and scale of the home.

  “Am I actually here to interview you?” she asked, turning to face him.

  Maximo slid his hands into his pockets and strolled closer. “No. You’re here because I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Well, I’m surprised,” she retorted. When she realized how defensive and abrupt she sounded, she backtracked and started over. “Wait, that sounded bad. I don’t mean to be short with you, I’m sorry.”

  “That’s all right. Come on. Let’s go sit outside.” Maximo stepped past her, leading the way down a series of halls to another set of smaller but no less striking double doors. The grotto beyond consisted of cave-like walls, a pergola to cut some of the sunlight, and trailing bougainvillea that offset a koi pond. Multiple sections of outdoor furniture provided plenty of seating.

  “I can’t even imagine how much this must cost to rent,” Camryn said. She caught a glimpse of a courtyard and a pool as she set her things on the table, kicked off her shoes, and curled up in a chair. This was the kind of setting one got comfortable in.

  “I’m not renting. I bought this house a week ago. A friend of mine lived here before me and I had a standing offer to buy whenever I was ready.” Maximo took the seat opposite Camryn and stretched his legs, hooking his boots at the ankle.

  Camryn caught herself skimming Max’s body with her gaze. Heat curled low in her belly. She hadn’t been in his presence five minutes and already she was having torrid ideas that had nothing to do with interviews or meetings. His confession finally caught up to her. “This is yours?”

  “Yes. I own it,” he said, speaking slowly and carefully. Playfully.

  “I don’t even know what to say to that. Ten families could live in just the parts I’ve already seen.”

  He laughed. “That’s an exaggeration. It’s a comfortable home.”

  Camryn scoffed outright. “You make it sound like it’s a fifteen hundred square foot rancher.”

  “It’s good to see you again, Camryn.” Maximo smiled, apparently distracted by her mere presence.

  She fiddled with the hem of her shirt while they stared at each other. “Why didn’t you message me?”

  “Because I needed to work things out. I needed time. And, admittedly, I was distracted with filming. We had to redo so many takes I can’t even believe it. So that meant fifteen-hour days and extra rehearsing thanks to Aubrey’s issues.” He never looked away from her eyes.

  “I’ve been busy, too. It’s not a good excuse for why I didn’t text you, but all I remembered was you saying that you’d call me when you were ready. So I figured waiting was the best option.”

  “Maybe we both needed the time,” he said.

  Camryn considered it. “It’s definitely given me a chance to put everything into perspective.”

  “So tell me what your perspective is.”

  Just as she opened her mouth to reply, her cell phone chimed. Camryn glanced at her purse. It was probably Lark, checking on the meeting. Memories of her recent run-in with Denny surfaced, and she didn’t realize she was wearing her concerns so openly until Max leaned forward in his seat, frowning.

  “Camryn? What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She debated the wisdom of telling Max what happened. He was level-headed, however, and might have some much needed input on the problem.

  “Just before I came over here, I had an unexpected visit from Denny. The guy who stole my photos and probably photoshopped the other pictures.”

  “What did he say?” Max’s frown darkened.

  “He said a lot of things, and he got a little physical.”

  Twenty-Six

  Maximo resisted the desire to surge to his feet and go on the hunt for Denny. The very thought that someone had put their hands on Camryn made his blood boil. “What do you mean, exactly, when you say he got a little physical?”

  “He pushed me against the car and got in my face. He didn’t throw a punch or anything, but he did catch me by surprise.”

  Italian curses flew from Maximo’s lips. He got to his feet and paced around the grotto. “It’s a good thing he didn’t throw a punch, or he’d be hearing from me before the night is over.”

  He glanced at Camryn, gauging her mood after the confession. She seemed disturbed, as she should be, and more than a bit thoughtful. “What else?”

  Camryn glanced down at her hands in a way that made Maximo suspect what she had to say next was harder than she wanted to admit. What had that bastard done to her?

  “He insinuated that Lark, my friend, roommate, and co-owner of Integrity, has been in on all of this from the start. I denied it, of course, because it just doesn’t seem like something she would do.”

  “I hear conflict in your voice,” Max pointed out.

  “He knew about the recorder, and what was on it.”

  Max flinched. “What?”

  “I know. I was just as surprised. Somehow he knows it exists and what the contents are. The only two people who know about the recorder are you and Lark. I haven’t told anyone else.”

  “Except that the recorder went missing,” he said.

  “In Switzerla
nd. Even if an employee of the chalet picked it up, that doesn’t explain how Denny knows,” Camryn replied.

  “Did he threaten to release it?” Maximo contained a snarl. That was all he needed right now. An explicit sex recording getting loose in the media would mean weeks of grief and speculation.

  “No. He used it as proof that Lark was the one behind everything, and said they’d both been planning to launch their own site. He even gave me a name, but I haven’t had time to look it up on the Internet,” Cam said.

  “What’s their play? To force you out of the business?” Max asked.

  “That’s what he says. I’d planned on confronting Lark when I got home, but she wasn’t there. I found the message to come here instead.” Camryn smoothed a palm along her thigh and hooked her fingers around the bend of her knee.

  “What does your gut tell you?” Maximo continued pacing, too agitated to sit still.

  “My initial gut instinct told me that Denny was lying out his backside, and that he was trying to create more friction between me and Lark. That maybe we would fight and separate and take Integrity down with us. But then I started thinking about the recording, and the photos that Denny ‘stole.’ He said Lark gave them to him.” Camryn lifted a shoulder as if to say, I don’t know what to think anymore.

  Max swerved toward Camryn’s seat and dropped into a crouch. He set his hands on her knees. “Look, I know this can’t be easy. Why don’t you stay here tonight and we’ll investigate together? Or, stay here anyway and get your bearings before you confront Lark. Figure out a game plan in case Denny isn’t lying, and figure out a plan if he is. You could probably bring charges against him if you wanted to for extortion.”

  “If people see me coming and going from your house, though . . .”

  “Screw them, Camryn. It’s only gossip. We’ll get through it. No one knows I’m back in the States yet, but it’s only a matter of time before the paparazzi are parked outside my gate. I can have my driver take you to and from wherever you need to go. The back windows of the sedan are heavily tinted, so you might be able to go unnoticed, at least for a while.” He couldn’t explain his sudden, inexplicable urge to try and protect her. Camryn was feisty and capable and didn’t need him hovering over her like a Neanderthal. He decided to be a Neanderthal anyway and to hell with perception.

  “All it would take is a phone call, I think, to get the answers I need. But I like the thought of being prepared for whatever happens in advance. I’ll take you up on your offer, Max.”

  “Good. Do you want me to have my driver take you back to your place for clothes, or would you rather not risk a confrontation yet?”

  “Actually, if your driver doesn’t mind, he can take me to a few out of the way shops in town and I can pick up what I need there. It’ll be quicker, I think, and less hassle. If Denny is still lurking around the complex, I don’t want to face him yet,” she said.

  “Easily done. I’ll call him so you can go out and get back before dark.” Maximo pulled his phone from his pocket and summoned the driver.

  Camryn groaned every time a clerk used her charge card to ring up a sale.

  This was a really bright idea, she thought.

  She’d found as many things on sale as possible, at least, and only purchased exactly what she needed. Jeans, two T-shirts, pajamas, flip-flops, and toiletries.

  By the time she got back into the sedan for the last time, the sun was just sinking below the horizon. The driver, Harold, was a quiet, capable companion. He got her door and had played security guard coming and going from the shops. The car whisked along the elegant streets of Holmby Hills, past secluded mansions whose walls and foliage helped hide them from sight. The decadent neighborhood made her feel conspicuous and a little unworthy, as if alarms might start blaring any second to announce the discrepancy between the inhabitants’ paychecks and her own.

  Camryn appreciated Maximo’s Tuscan-style mansion even more upon return. She viewed it through a new lens, gaining insight to his tastes and preferences. It didn’t surprise her that he’d chosen something with Mediterranean flair, but the enormity of the structure and grounds was still hard to digest. She probably couldn’t even afford the water bill on this place per month, much less the millions it cost to purchase.

  After a brief thank-you to Harold, Camryn disembarked the vehicle and toted her purchases to the front door. Maximo opened it before she could knock and eyed her bags as she entered.

  “What?” she inquired, pausing in the foyer.

  “That doesn’t look like much,” he said as he closed the door.

  “I’m not staying long. I didn’t need more.”

  “Apparently.” He chuckled and struck off toward the double staircase.

  “I can stay longer,” she retorted, following in his wake.

  “That sounds like a dare.”

  “Do you want it to be?”

  He laughed and glanced over his shoulder before resuming his ascent. “Does it involve eating three plates of food?”

  “We already know I can,” she said, enjoying sassing him back.

  “I guess that means the only thing left to do is to decide whether you want to stay longer.” Maximo cut left down a broad hallway once he reached the landing.

  Camryn glanced the other way, to the right, noting many doors leading off the corridor. Just how many bedrooms did this place have? Brought back to the present by his question, Camryn considered her reply.

  Who was she kidding? Of course she wanted to stay. For two, maybe three days. “Actually, I’d like to stay longer. I’m curious about this house and I’d like to explore the grounds.”

  What she really wanted was to tumble into bed with him and not surface until the weekend.

  “You’re curious about my bedroom and all the things I want to do to you in it,” he said, matter of fact.

  Camryn’s breath caught in her throat. She met his gaze when he looked back, sharing one of those chemistry-filled glances so common between them. When he stopped at a pair of double doors, she did as well.

  “There’s that, too,” she said, not bothering to hide it. They were well beyond the awkward first-date stage.

  “Good. Then you won’t be surprised that this is where you’re staying.” He led her inside a master suite that clearly belonged to a man. The dark brown, turquoise, and tan color scheme went well with the luxurious Italian-made furniture. A separate seating area near French doors provided extra places to sit, as did a long sofa flanking a baroque fireplace.

  “I can’t believe you live here,” she said, forgetting herself for a minute. This kind of luxury was beyond her. She’d grown up in a modest but pleasant tract home with a bedroom the size of a pantry. Her entire apartment could fit twice over in Max’s suite alone.

  “I can’t tell if you like it or not.” He gestured to one of two dressers. “Help yourself. There are a few empty drawers to choose from. If you need to wash clothes, there’s a washer and dryer off the bathroom.”

  “I love it—are you kidding? I wouldn’t even know what to do with all this space.” She headed to a bench at the foot of the king-sized bed and dumped her purchases on the tuck-and-roll leather. “Actually, I’d like to borrow your washer. Maybe while that’s happening we can fire up my laptop and check for that website.”

  “One step ahead of you, babe.” Maximo gestured to a desk with a laptop sitting open on the surface. He touched the trackpad and an image replaced the dark screen.

  Right there for the world to see was a website titled Locked N Loaded.

  Denny hadn’t been lying after all.

  Twenty-Seven

  Maximo watched Camryn’s expression carefully. The surprise in her gaze quickly turned to defense. Obviously stricken by the mere existence of the site, she nonetheless stiffened her spine and narrowed her eyes.

  “What’re you thinking?” Maximo asked. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Camryn seemed like the take-charge type, but this was her roommate they were talking about. Som
eone she trusted who might have stabbed her in the back.

  “I think this is ridiculous. Lark and I have never hidden things from each other, and just because she disagrees sometimes with my methods of gaining interviews doesn’t mean she’s gone rogue on me. If she has—well, I’ll stand corrected after the fact.” Camryn turned back to her belongings and dug her phone out of her purse.

  Max leaned a hip against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. Apparently she was bothered enough to put an end to the guessing now rather than later.

  So much for plans and preparation.

  He regarded her steadily as she paced the room, phone to her ear. Max considered the implications of the next few minutes if Camryn found out the worst. Her magazine’s success might be in jeopardy, depending on the legalities of co-ownership, and she would likely have to split off from Lark and find a new place to live. He realized he wanted to be there for her, with her, to help weather the storm.

  “No answer. Of course.” Camryn ended the call and then dialed again.

  She was nothing if not persistent. Max knew she’d gotten voice mail by her exasperated exhale.

  “Lark, it’s me. Call me back as soon as you get this. It’s important.” Camryn glanced across the room, an irritated expression on her face.

  “So I guess you’ve decided against doing some research and making plans,” Max said, stating the obvious.

  “I’m impatient, especially now that I’ve seen that,” Camryn said with a gesture toward the laptop. “I need to find out the truth. I should have just gone back to the apartment, should have . . . I don’t know. Done something.”

  “It doesn’t hurt to take a minute and assess things.”

  “Well, I’ve assessed them, and now I want answers.”

  Camryn’s blunt statement amused Max despite the seriousness of the situation. She could be so fiery and abrupt sometimes, especially when something triggered her anger.

 

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