The Baker's Beauty (The River Hill Series Book 3)

by Rebecca Norinne

  “Hey man. We were just talking about you.”

  Sean shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He looked toward Jess with silent question in his deep blue gaze. He pasted a false smile on his handsome face. “Only good things, I hope.”

  “I was just telling Jess what a shark you were back in the day.” He clapped Sean on the shoulder. “No one played the game like my man here.”

  Sean smiled easily at the compliment, and suddenly the lump in Jess’s belly grew two sizes, pushing up against her diaphragm until she felt like she couldn’t breathe. By all accounts, Sean had been happy in Los Angeles until Cal’s untimely death. He’d said himself that he would never have returned home otherwise. He’d been sick to his stomach with nerves when they’d stepped off the plane yesterday, but she wondered now if running into Matt had him regretting running away and then staying away.

  Was he ready to move on from his grief? Had coming here and seeing things with fresh eyes and a changed perspective altered his outlook on the situation? And if it had, was he also reconsidering her place in his life? Maybe the old Sean wouldn’t want someone like her by his side. Her siblings’ earlier comments came back to torment her. She wasn’t like him; none of them were. They hadn’t played the race card outright, but she’d understood their meaning well enough.

  People like the Amorys ran River Hill, while people like her family worked for them. Her papa was the vineyard manager for Carter Bradstone. It was a prestigious position, to be sure, but he hadn’t started out that way—and the people who joined in their family holiday celebrations were reflections of his humble beginnings. She’d grown up surrounded by day laborers and immigrants, some of whom she presumed were not in America legally. Even now, as an adult, she would join her grandfather at harvest time to pass out frozen treats and cold water to the men who picked the grapes that became award-winning wines that cost hundreds of dollars a bottle. Bottles they themselves could never afford, even though the Bradstones had a good reputation for how they treated their employees, thanks in no small part to Vincent Casillas’ influence

  Her eyes flicked back to Sean as he spoke animatedly with Matt and she chastised herself for thinking the worst. She knew this man. She knew the heart and soul of him. He cared deeply for those he let into his inner circle, and even though he’d struggled in the aftermath of Cal’s death, he’d never stopped being that person. There had been moments these past couple of years where he might have lost himself a bit, but now that he was sober, he was even more committed to being a good person.

  No, he wouldn’t toss her aside. If she got the job and he came back to L.A. with her, they could build a life together. In fact, Jess thought it might be for the best. Her brothers weren’t thrilled with the idea of her being with him, and Manny and Robert might make try to make things difficult between them. She suppressed a quick flash of rage. She didn’t like Manny’s new girlfriend, but she’d never once considered trying to keep them apart.

  Then again, she was a woman, while her brothers considered themselves to be big, studly men. The rules that applied to her did not apply to them. Briefly, she had a faint memory of her father telling her mother that she needed to stay home and take care of their kids while he brought home the paycheck. Not that that had worked out all that well for them. Hmm. All this time she’d thought her brothers’ attitudes stereotypical Latin machismo, but maybe it was their Irish heritage that was the problem. Or perhaps they were just men.

  But manhood, and who coped with it best, was a question for another day.

  She turned to Sean to remind him of the time when she caught a flash of agony spread across his face. Quickly, he suppressed it, and the conversation continued as if it had never happened. But Jess knew she hadn’t imagined the ticking of his jaw or the panicked way his eyes had darted toward the door. She focused back in on their conversation to hear Matt recounting all the plans they’d had for Cal Grissom and excitedly explaining how they didn’t have to go to waste. There was another young kid he thought could slot right in—if he had the right producer. Again, Matt’s meaning was more than clear: Sean could groom the kid’s look and sound, while he would give him a global stage via carefully selected television spots.

  With one more look at Sean, she pushed all her daydreams for them aside. He’d never teach her to surf out at Huntington Beach. They’d never visit his favorite out-of-the-way Mexican restaurant (which he’d told her in confidence served even better tacos than Frankie’s). And they’d certainly never hop in the car and drive up to Vegas for a weekend of naked debauchery.

  He couldn’t be here. Not if it meant his demons pushing in on him from every angle. No, he was better off in River Hill, where he had his friends and his family’s bakery … and most important of all, his sobriety.

  So where did that leave them?

  Counting chickens, Jess.

  She pasted on a smile she didn’t feel and turned to him, laying a hand on his arm. “We should get going if you’re going to make your appointment.”

  He nodded once and then shook Matt’s hand. “It was good seeing you.”

  “You too. Let’s get drinks the next time you’re in town.”

  If Matt noticed that Sean let the invite hang between them without a response, he didn’t comment on it.

  “You ready to head back to the hotel?” His voice was flat, and all the warmth she’d seen as he’d whispered at her from across the room had disappeared.

  Jess flicked uncertain eyes between his. “Will you have time to come up, or …” She felt the need to be close to him. They’d had sex that morning in their room’s oversized walk-in shower, but she wanted a bed and a few moments of quiet intimacy to connect. She’d ended her audition feeling like everything was finally going her way, but that had all changed in twenty minutes. If she got the job and moved down to L.A., there was a genuine possibility that she’d lose Sean. She couldn’t ask him to come back to this place. Not after seeing how it affected him.

  He set his hand to the small of her back and guided her toward the exit. “Nah. I’ll drop you off, and then head straight over to the studio for the interview.”

  “Oh, okay.” She tried not to let her disappointment show as he opened her car door and she slid inside.

  When he climbed into the driver’s seat, he gripped the steering wheel tight. After a few quiet moments in which Jess watched him physically pull himself together, his vice-like grip eased, and he turned his face toward hers. “Be careful with him.”

  “Who, Matt?”

  He nodded once, his lips flattening into a tight line. “He can be unpredictable.”

  Unpredictable was not a word you wanted to describe the man who you were about to work for. Assuming, of course, he hired her. Both Matt and Bill had been pleased by her audition, and Matt had indicated Jai would be hearing from him soon. But if Sean didn’t think he could be trusted, was he just blowing smoke up her ass to keep her on the hook while they decided if something better might come along?

  Suddenly, she missed Marisol. Her sister might be the most difficult woman in all of Christendom, but Jess knew deep down Marisol had her back and would give it to her straight. Maybe her family had been right, and she did actually need one of them by her side. Not as a chaperone, but rather, as a cheering squad.

  Sean flipped on the blinker and pulled out of the parking lot into mid-day traffic. He flicked his eyes toward hers as he navigated into the far-left lane. “He knows the business inside and out, but his top priority is making sure the people he works with are seen by all the people that matter, when and where it matters.”

  That was just good business, Jess thought. No matter what industry you were in, you needed to make a name for yourself. In Hollywood, that meant knowing the right people. With Jai in her corner, she was already off to a good start. She didn’t love Matt as a person, but she’d done her research. Everything he touched turned to gold. Working for him would be a good thing. Wouldn’t it?

&
nbsp; “Can I ask you something?” She shifted in her seat to better read his facial expressions while they spoke. Not that he was giving her much beyond a deep scowl.

  “Of course.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  He pulled into the hotel’s parking lot and instead of navigating to the front where he could drop Jess off and make a quick getaway, he pulled into a vacant spot and killed the engine. “What do you mean?” he asked, turning to face her, his back pressed against the door.

  “I thought the audition went really well, and it seemed like you were happy for me. What’s changed?” She hadn’t imagined the look on his face when he’d told her how amazing she’d been. There’d been genuine pride there.

  “You were fantastic. Don’t ever doubt that. But Matt …” His eyes darted away, and he fidgeted in his seat.

  “But Matt what?”

  His gaze found hers again, and the expression on his face nearly stole her breath. Something about the other man caused Sean legitimate pain. She leaned forward and palmed both his knees. “Please, tell me.”

  “You remember he used to work for The Music Channel?” She nodded, and he continued. “I don’t know if you picked up on it, but Matt was one of the execs we’d tapped to help with Cal’s debut. I don’t have any proof, but I do know for a fact that Matt has hooked other stars up with drugs. He was a huge coke fiend himself when I knew him.”

  Jess’s blood ran cold as Sean gripped her hands in his. “That’s … that’s terrible. How could he do something like that?” Jess wasn’t as naive as her siblings liked to claim—she knew there was a seedy underbelly of Hollywood—she just hadn’t wanted to think that she’d potentially be working with someone who was in the thick of it.

  He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Like I said, I don’t have any proof, I just … I really don’t like being around people who were part of that scene. I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait to get home. Back to River Hill.” He let loose a huff that was part laugh, part dismay, and shook his head.

  Jess’s heart broke for him. While she’d loved spending the past day and a half with him away from the stress and pressure of their everyday lives—and had definitely appreciated the support he’d shown her today—it wasn’t healthy for him to be here. As soon as his interview with ‘Died Too Soon’ wrapped, she was going to suggest they fly home tonight instead of on Sunday as planned. And all those long, lazy weekends exploring Southern California together she’d been envisioning? Yeah, those were off the table too. Suddenly, her dream job in L.A. didn’t seem so dream-like.

  She twined their fingers together and raised one of his hands to her lips. “Do you want me to come with you to the taping?”

  “I’m … it’s—” his eyes flicked between hers, and he blew out a long breath “—are you sure you want to see that? It’s probably going to get ugly.”

  “I want whatever you want. Just tell me what you need.”

  “I need you, Jess. Just you.”

  She nodded once, acknowledging what those words really meant. The world could be an ugly, lonely place, but she was his safe haven. The problem was, that was a lot of pressure to place on one person and a new relationship. She was falling in love with Sean, but she didn’t know if she was strong enough for him. She also didn’t know if he was strong enough for her. She’d done a lot of growing since they’d met, and she’d finally started to come into her own. Not to mention her new career prospects.

  Suddenly, Jess had a lot to think about.

  Chapter 21

  Sean eased himself onto the wooden stool and took a moment to let the reality of where he was and what he was about to do wash over him. Thank goodness this studio was calmer than the one Jess had auditioned at; he wasn’t sure he could have handled being assaulted by all that energy. He was enjoying the faint air of academia that seemed to permeate the ‘Died Too Soon’ set. When he arrived, he’d been greeted by somebody who’d called himself a ‘staff researcher.’ The man had literally been wearing a tweed jacket.

  Now, as he looked around and saw busy people doing their jobs, he felt himself relaxing. He’d been greeted warmly by several of the other interviewees, old friends and colleagues he’d left behind in his rush to escape L.A. Not one of them had asked him to have a drink with them afterward. Although he had been asked out for a coffee and another had asked him for a recipe for scones. It was as though they knew about his problem and were being sensitive to it. Not what he’d expected from his old crowd. It made him wonder if he’d jumped ship too fast. Maybe he should have stayed, gotten help, moved on.

  His eyes strayed to the back of the room, where Jess stood chatting with one of the sound techs. Her beauty shone in the bustling room, easy to find in the crowd of headset-wearing film people.

  “Are you ready?” The PA was a curvaceous woman who wore horn-rimmed glasses under a messy bun of rich honey-brown hair. Her name was Margo, he thought. Possibly Margaret. Mildred? She was pleasant enough, but efficiency was her middle name. He suspected that she was what made this entire operation run as smoothly as it did.

  “I think so,” he said.

  “Okay. Just to double check, you understand what’s going to happen?”

  He nodded. “That person over there’s going to clip a mic on me, and that lady right there’s going to film me while that guy prompts me with the questions that your research team put together.”

  She nodded. “And you had a chance to go over the questions before you got here, right?”

  “Yeah, somebody emailed them to me. Thanks for that, by the way.”

  She grinned, lighting her face up in an unexpected way. “You’re welcome. We’re not practicing ‘gotcha journalism’ over here. We don’t want to surprise you with anything. It’s a collaborative effort. We want you to be able to speak effectively, preferably at length, so we have a lot of material to pull from for the final cut. Can’t do that if you’re blinking at the camera like a surprised fish after getting blindsided by something you weren’t expecting.”

  “That makes a lot of sense.” After he’d sent the email agreeing to be interviewed on the show, everything had happened very quickly. But every touchpoint between him and the show’s staff had been handled with both thoroughness and sensitivity. No wonder people had been so complimentary online.

  A tall man who looked as though he would be right at home wearing the staff researcher’s tweed jacket approached them. “Hi, Sean, I’m Graham Parvis. Executive producer.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too, man.” Graham stuck his hand out, and Sean shook it. “I just thought I’d come over and say thank you for coming.”

  “You greet everyone personally?” Sean asked, letting a smirk cross his lips.

  Graham chuckled. “Just the ones who seem a little gun-shy. We specialize in getting people who wouldn’t otherwise speak out to come on our show. Sometimes it seems like it helps them a little bit.” He grinned. “Not nearly as much as it helps us, of course.”

  “Ah, a gentle mercenary,” Sean laughed. “You must be quite an attraction at parties.” He suspected that Graham Parvis didn’t generally fit into the Hollywood scene.

  The other man smiled. “You’ve got me. I’m not great at the social part of this job. That’s why I was so glad this show got greenlit. I got to build a whole staff of people just like me.” He waved an arm to encompass the entire studio.

  Sean leaned forward, the words coming out impulsively. “You know, if you ever have time, you should come to River Hill. I think you’d like it.” Now that he’d been away for a couple of years, he could recognize a fellow Hollywood outcast. And for the first time in his life, he was proud to tell people about River Hill, proud to hail from the tiny Northern California town where good food, great whiskey, and fantastic wine came from. Standing here now, he felt downright appreciative to have called it home.

  Graham regarded him solemnly. “Thanks, man. Maybe I will.”

  T
he sound guy moved in, and the producer moved away as Sean got mic’d and sound tested. And then it began.

  The first few questions were simple. He told them his name, and what his job had been. He described his duties as a producer and recounted the moment he’d first seen Cal’s videos online. The joy that the kid had managed to imbue in his music had been infectious, and Sean had known he needed to get on a plane to meet him as soon as he could.

  Things became a little harder to discuss when he had to start talking about how he’d recruited Cal. He acknowledged that it was standard procedure to overwhelm potential clients with the possibilities of L.A., all tailored to their age and interests. And nineteen-year-old boys had pretty standard interests. Cal hadn’t been an exception.

  After signing on the dotted line, he’d moved to L.A. and Sean had helped him get an apartment. They’d begun laying down tracks around the same time as Cal had started to explore his new home and the benefits tied to his new paycheck.

  “Did you try to steer him away from the parties?” The interviewer asked quietly. His tone was even, no judgment. But Sean didn’t need external judgment. He knew what he’d done.

  He could feel himself start to sweat. “Not enough,” he said. His voice was shaking, so he cleared his throat and said it again. “Not enough. I went back to work. I didn’t pay enough attention to what he was doing, who he was with. I just focused on the album. It was a mistake. The worst I’ve ever made.”

  The interviewer nodded blandly. “What happened?”

  He’d told the story to Jess once. The sky hadn’t fallen. He looked up. Sought her out in the crowd of silent listeners. Nobody’s face wore anything but gentle support, but hers blazed with pride, sympathy, and determination. He watched her mouth you can do this.