Signed

by Marni Mann

I ran my hand around the back of her head and fisted her hair, pulling her face closer until her eyes closed and our lips connected.

  This kiss was different.

  It was deeper. Stronger. It was a taste I needed before I said, “You’re mine.”

  I’d fought this feeling for too long. I’d sometimes ask her to come into my office for no reason, just so I could be around her. When I got home from work, my hand would fist my cock with thoughts of her in my head to make it feel like I was getting a piece of her.

  I’d hoped the want would go away.

  It hadn’t because James was who I wanted.

  Whom I needed to be with.

  And, now, she was finally mine.

  “God, you made this so hard.” She laughed.

  I rested the tip of my nose on hers and took a breath. “I want what’s best for you, and I still don’t know if I’m that person.”

  “Let me decide that.”

  My lips moved to her forehead, and they kissed the center of it. “This doesn’t mean that, when it comes to your career, I’m going to give you any control. I’m not; I assure you of that. There’s a chance every business decision I make will affect us personally. I’m warning you now; it can get complicated, and there will be days you’re probably going to hate me.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  I cupped her ass and lifted her into the air, feeling her legs wrap around my waist. “We have to be careful.”

  After she finished kissing my cheek, she said, “I lost everything once. I won’t risk that again.”

  I turned her around and pushed her back against the wall. “I promise you one thing; no matter what happens between us, I’m going to do everything in my power to get back everything you’ve lost, and nothing will change that.”

  “I know.” Her lips hovered in front of mine. “You came in this shower for a reason. Now, put your lips on mine, Brett, and fuck me already.”

  “Mmm,” I growled, knowing there was no way I could say no to that.

  24

  James

  It had only been a week since the gala, and my life in Miami had already changed so much. Yesterday, I’d had lunch with three of the women I’d met there that night, and I had several more scheduled for next week. Brett’s team had been receiving multiple phone calls a day with invites for me to attend events, and my evenings were booking up with charity engagements. Pictures of me were circling the internet, showing me dressed in the outfits Eve had chosen with short blurbs that described where I was and the people I’d interacted with.

  The public was starting to be a little kinder.

  What they didn’t know was that Brett and I were secretly dating.

  No one knew that, except for Eve and Max, the only two people we’d decided to tell because we figured we’d be spending time with them together.

  I’d been so unsure about moving to Florida, especially when I’d first gotten here and had nothing to do, but I was definitely starting to feel more comfortable. Miami gave me privacy that I hadn’t had in LA. The paparazzi didn’t stalk the restaurants and beaches. I could go to the pool and travel in and out of my building, and I didn’t have to cover my face. I was making so much progress at the gym, my strength building more each time I went. And I was taking daily acting lessons from a private coach and working with a voice therapist to improve my tone.

  Miami was good to me, and it was good for me.

  I was establishing a routine, and that was why, when the police detective called and said he wanted to meet with me, I was so hesitant to return to LA.

  Brett had said the timing was perfect. He had a meeting there, and Max had to go see a client, so the three of us flew together.

  From the second the plane landed, I was on the lookout for cameras. I knew, if the paparazzi caught sight of me, they wouldn’t leave me alone, speculating why I was in town, making up stories about my comeback. Things were just starting to get better for me, and I didn’t want any rumors out there. So, I was relieved when, on our way to the police station, Brett got a text from Max. It said his plans had changed, and we wouldn’t be staying the night like we’d thought, but we would be heading back east sometime this evening.

  The less time I spent in this city, the better.

  And, hopefully, the quicker my anxiety would die down because I was a bundle of nerves as we arrived at LAPD. Brett and I were led into a private room and told the detective would be in shortly. It took several minutes for him to join us. As he did, he sat on the other side of the table and placed a folder in front of him.

  “Thanks for coming in, Miss Ryne,” the detective said. “I know it was a long trip for you.”

  “No problem.” I clenched my hands together underneath the table and felt how slick and sweaty they were.

  The detective opened the folder and read the first few pages before our eyes connected. “I’d like to update you on where things stand. We sent the video through our forensic department, and they weren’t able to find any distinguishable marks on the man in the video. Unfortunately, whoever edited it did a thorough job. We scanned the hotel’s surveillance tapes several more times, even running it through our face recognition software, and we still haven’t been able to find anyone who fits Mr. Parker’s description, nor have we seen you on any of the footage. My analysts searched the internet and couldn’t find the source of the leak, where the video was uploaded, or how it got distributed. And, at this point, you’ve seen every Calvin Parker we have in our system, and there hasn’t been a positive match, therefore we have to believe that’s not his name.” He crossed his arms over the table and leaned forward. “Miss Ryne, we’re at a dead end.”

  I glanced at Brett, and there was so much anger filling his face. I knew he’d been looking into things on his end and not gotten any further than the police.

  “I called you in for two reasons. First, I need to know if you can give us any more information. Anything that can help with our search. Maybe a detail you forgot the first time we met, like a tattoo hidden somewhere or a birthmark, the kind of car he drove, something he might have said about where he lives or works.”

  I took a deep breath and ran the whole night through my head, trying to come up with something I hadn’t remembered before.

  The party had started early in the afternoon, and I’d had several drinks as I watched Sophia and Abel make out. The vodka had gone down so easily, and since I’d moved that day, I hadn’t eaten much, and the liquor had hit me hard.

  Calvin and I had left the party fairly early. He’d had a driver waiting in the driveway, and we’d climbed in the back of the SUV—a make and color that was like every other one I’d ridden in. Then, he’d dropped us off at the hotel. I never saw more than the profile of the driver’s face, and I couldn’t even recall the color of his hair.

  When we’d arrived at the hotel, we had gone in through a side door, which told me Calvin already had a key, and the room was on the first floor, so we didn’t have to walk through the lobby or take an elevator.

  I could see Calvin’s face, but even that was a little fuzzy. He had no tattoos, no birthmarks that I had seen, no piercings, and nothing about his looks stood out to the point where he would be noticed in a roomful of people.

  He was plain.

  But that didn’t bother me, and it certainly hadn’t at that time.

  When I’d left the next morning, he had been sleeping on his stomach, so I hadn’t really gotten another good look at him.

  And that was all the time we’d spent together. There hadn’t been much talking, not many questions asked, certainly not a moment where he had opened up to me.

  I had nothing to give to the detective that would help catch that asshole.

  “I’ve told you everything,” I said.

  It was hard to say that out loud, admitting how much of a mistake I’d made, one that had cost me so much.

  “The other reason I asked you to come in is because I have some mug shots I’d like you to look at.
Some of these men work for the hotel in Malibu, and some work for the transportation companies around town that could have driven you to the hotel. Let me know if you recognize any of them.”

  I took the stack of papers he’d pulled out from the folder, and I flipped through each page, focusing on their eyes and hair and if they showed any teeth. There were four photographs per sheet, and I spent plenty of time staring at each one.

  When I got to the last page, I shook my head. “None of those guys look familiar.”

  He scratched his nail over the desk, chipping away at what looked like a piece of paint. “We discussed witnesses the last time we chatted. I know you checked with Eve Kennedy, and she wasn’t able to identify him either. What about anyone else?”

  “I reached out to a few other friends who were there, and no one remembers him. They had all been drinking, too, and so many people had been there that it was hard to keep track of anyone.”

  The only people I hadn’t asked were Abel and Sophia. The thought of doing that made me sick. But there was a chance they could have seen Calvin, and at some point, I needed to find the courage to talk to them.

  “Without any more leads or evidence, I’m going to have to close the case,” the detective said. “Of course, if you remember something or new information is presented, I can certainly reopen it.”

  There was a lump in my throat that was bigger than the detective’s hand.

  I’d come all the way here for him to tell me we were at a standstill.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “There really isn’t anything else that can be done?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Ryne. We’ve exhausted all our resources.”

  As I opened my mouth, with not a clue as to what would come out of it, I felt Brett’s hand on my shoulder, urging me to stand.

  “Thanks for your help, Detective,” Brett said. “James and I will be in touch if anything new comes about.”

  “I hope you will,” the detective said, moving to our side of the table to shake our hands. “Off the record, I have a daughter your age, and the thought of that happening to her doesn’t sit well. Personally, I’d like to nail that bastard, so keep thinking, and let me know if you come up with anything.”

  “Will do,” Brett replied, now squeezing my shoulder.

  I finally got to my feet, following the detective down the hallway and out the side of the station where we immediately got into an SUV.

  Brett had to take a phone call, so I took out my phone and typed Eve a text.

  Me: Just left LAPD. They have nothing. The case is closed unless something else comes up.

  Eve: Ugh. I was afraid you would say that.

  Me: You still don’t remember anything?

  Eve: I can’t picture him, babe. Trust me, I’ve been trying. How’s LA? I can’t believe you’re there, and I’m not.

  Me: You know I’d stay longer if that meant seeing you, but honestly, I’m kinda relieved to get out of here. Something about this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

  Eve: I’ll be in Miami soon.

  Me: Miss you.

  Eve: More than you know.

  I looked up from the screen just as Brett got off the phone, and I saw we were headed in the opposite direction of the airport. He hadn’t told me where I would be waiting while he went to his meeting, so I said, “Are you bringing me with you?”

  “Yes.” He reached across the seat and put his hand on my thigh. “You did good back there.”

  “I’m so furious with myself.”

  “Baby, there’s nothing we can do to change what happened. We just have to keep looking until we find that motherfucker.”

  That was the first time he’d called me that, and despite how angry I was, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

  “You’ve done everything you can,” he added. “Now, we have to wait for something to unfold. And it will, I promise you, because no one in this town can keep their mouth shut.”

  As I nodded, I saw that his phone was ringing again, and Scarlett’s name was on the screen. “Go ahead and talk to her; it’s okay.”

  He kept his hand on my leg and answered the call as I scrolled through social media. The first picture I came across was of Abel and Sophia. It had been taken yesterday as they were walking out of a furniture store, the shot showing a close-up of her diamond with the headline, Decorating the Nursery?

  It didn’t matter if she was pregnant or redecorating or adding an addition on to the house; I still owned half of it. I didn’t want it; it was just something I’d been avoiding since we broke up.

  There was no reason to avoid it anymore.

  I hit the button for my email and opened a new one, which I addressed to my attorney, and I began to type.

  Can you please draw up the paperwork to have Abel buy me out of our house?

  All I’m looking for is the fair market value.

  I’d like to get this wrapped up as soon as possible.

  Thank you.

  As I glanced up, I noticed we were pulling up to a gate and stopping in front of the call box on the side.

  The driver rolled down his window and said into the intercom, “Mr. Young and Miss Ryne here to see Mr. Anderson.”

  My eyes moved to Brett. “Why did he say my name?”

  “Scarlett, I’ve got to go.” He hung up, and his fingers tightened on my thigh. “The meeting is for both of us.”

  “Both of us?” I looked out the window and saw the curved driveway and the massive house that sat in the back of it. “Where are we? And who’s Mr. Anderson—” I cut myself off as a thought came into my mind. One that caused my hands to shake. “This isn’t Ralph Anderson’s house, is it?”

  Brett nodded as the SUV came to a halt in front of the grand entrance.

  “And you didn’t think it was important to mention that we were meeting with the largest director in the world?” I gazed down at the clothes I had on. I’d worn nothing to stand out, only a pair of jeans, a tank top, and a small sweater. “I’m not dressed for this. I—”

  “Relax. It’s an informal meeting, and the reason I didn’t tell you was because I didn’t want you freaking out like you’re doing right now.”

  “Goddamn right I’m freaking out. How could you do this to me? This could be one of the biggest moments of my life, and I’m not prepared.” I looked at the house, seeing a butler come out the front and approach my door. “I can’t go in there. I’m not ready.”

  “Look at me,” he growled. I did as he’d asked, and he said, “You’ve been waiting your whole life for this. You’re ready, and I believe in you. Now, go show that man why you’re the best fucking actress in Hollywood.”

  25

  Brett

  It had only taken Henry a day to reach out to me after the gala. I appreciated how fast he’d worked. I also appreciated the monster connection he’d hooked me up with. Ralph Anderson was a guy I’d been fucking dying to get in the same room with since I became an agent. He was the most talented director in the industry, and he held the record for the most awards. His films weren’t just stories; they were experiences that captivated you so hard, you forgot you were watching a movie.

  Ralph didn’t meet with agents. He didn’t hold auditions either. His team called the actors Ralph wanted to work with, and private auditions were then held to make sure it was a good fit. The only way to get into an Anderson film was to be the best in the business and hope to hell someone from his team noticed you.

  Not one of my clients had gotten that phone call.

  So, when I’d spoken to Ralph’s team and found out he wanted to meet immediately, I had known I had to get us on a plane. The call from the detective couldn’t have worked out more perfectly because it meant I didn’t have to tell James about Ralph until we were outside his house. Had I told her, she would have been a mess during the flight and at the police station, and I didn’t want that kind of pressure weighing on her.

  It was a good decision because, as I looked at her now, seconds be
fore the butler reached her door, I was worried she was going to throw up.

  Quickly, I lifted my hand off her leg and brushed my fingers across the back of her neck, giving her a last bit of encouragement. “Fucking kill it, baby,” I whispered and then moved away from her, so the butler didn’t see.

  “I’m going to kill you,” she said softly over her shoulder, sliding out of the back once the door opened.

  I walked behind her, following the butler into a large sitting room, and took the chair next to James’s.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” the butler asked.

  “Water, please,” James said.

  He looked at me, and I nodded, silently asking for the same.

  I was close enough to see every breath she inhaled, how her chest rose and fell, how her hands fidgeted in her lap. She crossed her legs, and her fingers moved to the ankle of her jeans, running her nails across the hem.

  She was nervous as hell.

  “James,” I said and waited for her to glance at me before I added, “stop thinking about why you’re here. Stop worrying about what you’re going to say. I just want you to think about what you were doing around midnight last night.”

  In case the cameras in the corners of the room were able to pick up sound, I didn’t want to say she had been on her back at midnight with her legs spread and my face between them. But it was around that time and over the next thirty minutes that my tongue had been on her cunt, and she’d been screaming through each orgasm I gave her.

  The expression on her face told me she remembered.

  But it was gone the second the butler returned with two glasses of water. He set them on the side table next to our chairs.

  As he left, Ralph came right in and said, “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

  He walked over to me first, and I stood to shake his hand, surprised by how young he appeared in person. He didn’t attend industry parties, just award shows, so I’d only seen him on camera, and it had aged him older than fifty.