She swallowed. “Hottest actress?”
“Candyland opened number one at the box office this weekend.” He lowered his voice to add. “Trust me. It wasn’t because it was a good film.”
Joey shifted in her chair, while doubt carved lines across her forehead. Then just as suddenly her confidence charged back into her features while her shoulders lifted. “He’ll choose me. I’m loyal, dependable and have more class than Carlina Leoni, who can’t seem to keep her business from being broadcast across the Internet.”
“Well, good luck to you.” He finally returned to his script. “You’re going to need it.”
“Luck will have nothing to do with it.” Her chin lifted to a ridiculous level.
Ryan stared at her without being obvious. He hadn’t lied when he said that he liked this toned-down version of her. She looked softer, adorable and obtainable. He thought about Larry and wondered how he could choose a narcissist like Carlina Leoni over Joey. Has to be going through a midlife crisis.
“Are you a workaholic?” Joey asked, glancing at the paperwork still strewed across his lap.
His lips sloped unevenly as he slid on his glasses. “Something like that.”
“You probably get tired of people coming up to you and pitching their ideas to you, huh?”
He glanced over and saw the hopes shining in her eyes. “There’s a lot legal reasons behind it,” he said, letting her down easy. “If I end up making a script similar to yours, lawsuits fly...”
“Yeah, yeah.” She nodded through her disappointment. “I figured as much.”
“But you still have my card. You can have your agent send me something and I’ll make sure I take a peek at it.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Ryan shrugged and pretended that her sudden indifference didn’t bother him. He shuffled his paperwork again, kept pretending he wasn’t watching her and longed for another conversation starter. However, Joey seemed just as determined to ignore him.
#
Minutes after returning home from her morning spa trip, Frankie zonked out on the sofa before Rosa, her maid, brought her a cup of her favorite chamomile tea. This was starting to become a habit after spending an hour with Miguel and his wonderful massaging hands. Just thinking about them had her moaning in her sleep.
The phone rang, wrenching Frankie out of her fantasy and spoiling her mood. “Hello.”
“Hello. May I speak with a Franklin Lee Adams?”
Frankie sat up. It had been years since anyone had called her by her maiden name. “This is Ms. Adams. What can I do for you?”
“Mrs. Crane, I’m calling from American Express. We’re showing usual activity on your credit card.”
“My credit card?”
“She ma’am. We’re showing a transaction for $2644 for an airline ticket from—”
“What?”
“Are you saying that you’re not aware of this purchase?”
“I most certainly am!”
“Would you like for us to post a fraud alert and freeze all activity on this card?”
“You damn right I do!”
#
Joey’s eyes bolted open when her plane hit “a little turbulence.” How long had she been asleep? If they were going to crash, maybe it was best that she went back to sleep. What about her family? No one knew where she was.
“Excuse me?” Ryan cleared his throat.
She glanced over and groaned.
“Do you think you could let go of my hand? Your nails have hit bone.”
Her gaze lowered. “No, I don’t think so,” she said unable to loosen her grip.
The plane hit another air pocket, and Joey finally released him long enough for her arms to wrench around his neck and for her to actually meld her body against his.
“Somewhere, over the rainbow…”
“Ms. Adams, what are you doing?” He pretended that his body wasn’t going haywire from her touch.
“Way up high…”
“We’re not crashing, Joey!” He hissed under his breath, and then waited.
“We’re not?”
“No.” He sighed in relief when he felt her arms relax and air was finally allowed to flow back into his body.
“Are you sure?”
Ryan reached up and pried her arms off of him. “You know you don’t have to try so hard to get my attention. You have a standing invitation to my hotel room.”
Joey leaped away from him. “You’re disgusting.”
“What happened to just being an asshole?”
“You’ve surpassed that threshold.” She huffed and folded her arms. “You’ve made it quite clear that you’re only interested in sleeping with me. I get it. You can stop hinting. My answer is still no.”
“A lot of women would be flattered.”
“I’m not a lot of women.” She straightened and composed herself. “I have a little more dignity and self-respect.”
He frowned. “Did you forget how we met?”
“Fine. Fine. I did one stupid thing.”
“Are we not counting this surprise trip to Italy on your ex-boyfriend who is currently engaged to a hot actress?”
“No we’re not,” she hissed.
“You mean ‘not yet.’”
Joey’s eyes lowered to thin slits. “Can you do me a favor and not talk to me for the rest this trip.”
“Only if you promise not to leap back into my lap. Next time you might get a little surprise.” He winked.
“I take it little in the key word there.”
“Oh, the kitten has claws.” He laughed, enjoying their repartee. He didn’t know why but he enjoyed baiting and getting under her skin.
“Do we have a deal?” she asked.
“Deal.”
For the rest of flight, Joey and Ryan zipped up their lips and pretended to ignore each other.
Inwardly, however, Joey ranted about the famed director’s incredible ego. The casting couch was probably the only way he could get a date. And she had kissed him.
Landing was the hardest part for Joey. She clutched her chair, slammed her eyes shut and hummed her rainbow song. When they were safely on the ground, she relaxed and said a quick prayer of thanks.
“I guess this is goodbye,” Ryan said, standing.
Her eyes flashed at him.
“What? I kept my promise. The trip is over.”
Joey kept her mouth clammed tight.
“Well, for what it’s worth,” he went on to say as he grabbed his overhead bag. “I wish you the best of luck with Dr. Benson.”
She remained suspicious.
“I’m actually starting to believe you two are meant for each other.”
“Thank you.” She lifted her chin. “And good luck to you and your new movie. Judging by your recent track record, you’re going to need it.”
Ryan laughed and exited the plane.
Joey also grabbed her bag and made her way off the aircraft. She rushed through the maze of Linate Airport and hailed a taxi.
“Hotel Principe Di Savoli Milano, per favore.”
“Sì, signora.”
Joey smiled and turned her head back toward the airport. Was she expecting to see Ryan Donovan again? She shook her head as her cab pulled off. With any luck, she had seen the last of Mr. Donovan.
Chapter 12
“I don’t understand. Ronald is a cool guy. Why won’t your brother go out with him?” Lincoln asked, cramming the fifth suitcase into the trunk of his car.
Peyton smiled. “You really do care for my brother’s happiness, don’t you?”
“Of course, I care. Why wouldn’t I?” He slammed the trunk shut and then draped an arm around his wife. “He’s family.”
She glided her arms around his trim waist and then leaned up on her toes for a kiss. “Don’t take it personally, honey. I’m sure Ronald is a wonderful guy and all, but don’t forget Flex lives in Atlanta. The last thing he would want is to get involved in a long-distance relationship.” She gave him another
kiss.
Lincoln thought it over and shrugged at the logic. “I guess that means I’ll have to let Ronald down easy.” He cringed. “That’s gonna be awkward.”
“It’s not easy playing Cupid.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“More like a witness to every bad idea and plan my sisters had every come up with. And trust me, there have been a lot of them.”
“Hey,” Marlin yelled from the front porch. “You two heading out?”
Lincoln and Peyton linked their arms together and walked back toward the house.
“I’m afraid so,” Lincoln said. “House renovations should be completed today. I want to thank you again for your hospitality.”
“No need to thank me. This will always be you guys’ second home.” Marlin winked.
A car pulled up into the driveway and everyone turned to see Michael’s Volvo.
Peyton waved and then broke away from Lincoln. She’d been more than a little concerned about Michael ever since Phillip’s call Saturday morning. Peyton had also expected Michael to rush home once word of Flex’s visit hit the Sisters’ Network. Even their father had noted the oddity.
Michael climbed out the car, flashed a high-wattage smile and waved. “Hey, everybody.”
“Where have you been?” Peyton asked, taking her sister into her arms for a quick embrace. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to round up a search party.” She glanced into the car. “Where’s Joey?”
“She’s not here?”
Peyton frowned. “No. I thought she disappeared with you.”
Worry instantly creased Michael’s brow. “Dear God, I hope she hasn’t done something stupid.”
#
Twenty-four hours in Milan, Italy, and Dr. Laurence Benson was miserable. The beautiful high-fashion city felt like an icicle in the middle of February, and each time he saw his swollen jaw in the mirror, he thought of Joey.
Beautiful, tomboyish Joey had expected an engagement ring for Valentine’s Day—and he had almost given it to her. Joey had his heart, but Carlina was the logical choice.
The train of his thoughts was derailed when Carlina emerged from their suite’s bathroom. She was dressed stunningly from head to toe in winter-white. It might be cliché, but she looked the part of the perfect trophy wife. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt his practice to be married to Hollywood’s “it” girl.
“How do I look?” Carlina asked, spinning around for inspection.
“The way you always look…magnificent!” He went to her with open arms. “Let me guess. You’re all set to go shopping?”
“Well, there’s only three days before the wedding and I have a ton of things to do.” She tweaked his cheek and walked over to the bed to pick up her purse. “Are you sure you don’t mind my going out with old school friends?”
“No. Have some fun. I’ll be fine,” he said.
“Great. I’ll try not to stay out too late. We’re having breakfast with my parents in the morning.”
“I’ll be ready.” He winked and held onto his smile until she walked out of the door. “What am I doing?” he moaned. He quickly made himself a drink at the bar and then strolled over to the window. “Joey, Joey, Joey.” He squinted down at a woman in the courtyard. “Joey?” He thought about it for a moment and shook his head. “Nah. It couldn’t be.”
#
The moment Joey walked into Hotel Principe Di Savoia Milano, she felt as if she’d been transported to another time and place where kings and queens ruled the world and she was in the company of royalty. She eased down the marbled entryway, feeling as if she stuck out like a sore thumb.
In truth, she did.
At the front desk, a tall, lanky Italian man with the shiniest black hair she’d ever seen turned toward her. “Posso aiutarla, Signora?”
“I’m sorry, but I speak very little Italian,” Joey informed him.
“Of course.” His smile brightened. “May I help you, Madame?”
“Yes, I have a reservation for Joseph Adams.”
The clerk’s skinny fingers glided across his computer keyboard. “Yes, I show we have one suite reserved for a Signore Adams.”
“Actually, it’s Signora Adams. I’m Joseph.”
The young man’s eyebrows dipped together in confusion. “Joseph is a man, no?”
“No. In this case Joseph is a girl.” She pulled out her passport and showed it to him. He studied it, but his expression remained the same until she admitted, “My father was hoping for a boy.”
“Ah.” He flashed her a tight smile, and then resumed typing. “I show one junior suite, single use is eight twenty-five American dollars and--”
“A night?”
“Sì, Signora. Will that be a problem?”
A frog leaped into Joey’s throat in time for her to croak, “No.”
“Excellent.” A smile returned to his face before he commenced to ask how she would like to pay for the room.
Joey nervously fished through her purse and pulled out her wallet. She held her breath as she withdrew Frankie’s credit card and handed it over to the clerk.
“Just one moment,” he said, and slid the card down a magnetic strip next to his computer.
She tapped her fingers across the countertop until the clerk flashed her a look of annoyance. “Sorry.”
He punched a few buttons and slid the card down again.
Joey’s heart threatened to burst through her chest cavity. The other two credit cards she possessed were just hairs away from the maximums and would certainly decline. One thing was for sure, she didn’t have a whole lot of time to win Laurence back.
“Spiacente, Signora Adams, but your credit card has been declined,” the tall, lanky desk clerk informed Joey. “We have been instructed to destroy the card.”
“What?” Panic seized Joey. “You can’t do that. That is the only credit card I have. I don’t have any money.”
He produced a pair of scissors and sliced the card in half before she could even think to stop him. “Does that mean that you’ll be canceling your reservation?”
She blinked. “Er, huh.”
“Signora?”
“How long can you hold the room?”
“Spiacente. We’ll need a credit card in order to hold the suite. And unfortunately it is now the only suite we have available. So if anyone can ask for it and can actually pay for the suite, we will give it to them.”
A woman snickered behind Joey, and she could literally feel herself shrink a few inches. “Thank you,” she muttered and turned away from the front desk.
Now what?
She walked back down the marbled entryway toward the front door with her head down. She had to think of something. She didn’t come all this way to be turned down. Hell, without Frankie’s credit card, she couldn’t even afford a plane ticket back home.
Calling home wasn’t an option. Her sisters would haul her back so fast her head would spin. She couldn’t allow that—not until she spoke with Laurence.
Stepping out of the building, Joey glanced up at the towering palatial hotel. She was an ant who’d barely escaped being squashed. “I am no quitter,” she mumbled under breath and then marched back into the hotel.
When she reached the front desk, the clerk turned and greeted with another magnanimous smile. “Ah, Ms. Adams. You returned--with money, I hope?”
She mimicked his smile. “No. Actually, I was hoping that you could give me Dr. Laurence Benson’s suite number? He’s my fiancé.”
One of the clerk’s bushy eyebrows rose to the center of his forehead. “Dr. Benson is your fiancé?”
“Yes,” she lied with a straight face.
The clerk’s face remained dubious and his voice obnoxiously polite. “Spiacente, Signora. If Dr. Benson is indeed a guest at our hotel, his privacy is of utmost importance with the staff of Principe di Savoia Milano.”
“You won’t tell me his room number?”
“As you American’s say, ‘Bingo.’”
/> When he smiled, Joey wondered what the consequences would be if she knocked his block off.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“No. I guess not.” She leveled him with her best evil glare.
“Very well.”
He turned and left her to glower at his back. She left the front desk in yet another huff. Think, think. The only cash she had was used on the cab ride, and the driver was none too thrilled to take American dollars. Planning ahead has never been her strong suit.
Once again she stood outside the grand hotel without a man, a plan or a clue on what do next.
“One thing for sure,” she mumbled under her breath. “This trip can’t get any worse.”
Chapter 13
Things got worse. A whole lot worse.
Hours after getting the boot from the hotel, Joey decided to find a small café so she could gather her thoughts and devise a new plan. Certainly, she had enough money on one of her other credit cards for a cup of coffee.
“Thief! Thief!” the café owner shouted.
“No, no.” Joey frantically looked all around her small table. “Someone stole my purse. I placed it right here.” She gestured to floor underneath her table. “Someone must have stolen it.”
“Chiamare la polizia!”
Joey’s limited Italian certainly recognized the word police. Another jaunt in jail, this time in a foreign one, held little appeal. “Please, please. I swear someone has stolen my purse.”
All eyes in the small café zeroed in on the loud commotion. Joey’s ears heated with embarrassment, but her humiliation grew leaps and bounds when the police arrived.
The café owner and the polizia acted like they didn’t buy her story, especially since she nor the other patrons witnessed the thief.
She dug into her jeans and her one suitcase until she found a five-dollar bill in her packed denim jacket. The burly café owner snatched the money and had the polizia escort her off the property.
It didn’t occur to her until after the incident and the cops were gone that she still had a major problem.
When You Were Mine (Adams Sisters) Page 8