He looked at his cell. “Baby, I’m going to be late. Call me later?”
“This is not over, Jackson.”
“Call me.”
We glared at each other until I rolled my eyes. “I’ll think about it. Unless you have some hot date?”
“Damn. I forgot. Zara and I have a public appearance tonight, playing the happy couple.” He rolled his eyes.
“Good. Have fun tonight while I’m at dinner. But, not too much fun. Remember, I’ll see it in the entertainment section in tomorrow’s paper. I’ll call when I get home.”
“I’m not happy, Lauren.”
“Deal with it. I’m not happy seeing you with other women, especially kissing their fingers.”
He stepped closer, and I put my hands up in warning. He leaned in, pressed his chest against my hands, and was a mere inch from my face. He looked down at my lips, opened his mouth, and paused, before he placed his hand over my heart. We both watched as his hand moved with each rapid beat.
“Cary will never be able to do that.”
I wasn’t sure why he suddenly hesitated, as he looked in my eyes, but it became crystal clear when he asked, “Or does he?”
“Jackson, there you are! They’re holding for you,” a man wearing a headset said.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Jackson’s inquiry had caught me off guard, and that crewman was a welcomed interruption.
“I’ll call you later, Jackson.” I waved goodbye and left before he could protest.
The swelling around my wound was finally going down, and my follow-up appointment with the doctor went well. Thankfully, I now needed fewer painkillers, so my head was clearer, and I felt more like myself. As long as I didn’t bump the wound or bend the wrong way, it felt all right.
However, replacing the gauze was still painful, but necessary, because the bloody bandages showed through my lined, nude-colored slip dress I’d worn for tonight’s dinner with Cary and Victor.
I thought other things would have died down a week later, but no such luck. Jackson and I had gone global—our story was everywhere.
As I was getting dressed for dinner, I turned on the TV to find a European reality star making fun of me. While being interviewed, she pretended to cry, expressing how devastated she was at the whole situation. She then called me a harlot. Sadly, I laughed. The irony of a reality star questioning my morals had to be a joke.
I’d had enough of that.
Ready to walk out of the house, I yelled, “Blake, hurry up.”
He rushed to the front door, tie in hand and gray shirt unbuttoned. His hair had grown, and his cute curls showed, making him look boyish.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go, Sis. You’re in a hurry?”
I grabbed his navy sport coat. “You know I hate being late.”
As we exited the house, we could see camera flashes in the distance. Not as many as before, but the paparazzi were still lurking.
As I walked to the SUV, Ruben opened the back door. “Ms. Moreau, we will need to deviate from our scheduled arrival time in order for me to lose the paparazzi tail, ma’am.”
“Okay, and Ruben, please call me Lauren.”
No response. That had to be the twentieth time I asked him to call me Lauren.
Blake opened the passenger door. “Shotgun.”
Ruben looked puzzled. “Sir, you might be more comfortable in the back.”
Blake disliked being chauffeured as much as I did. Ruben knew that, but it was his job.
“Is this seat taken?” Blake asked.
“No, sir.”
“Ruben, it’s me, your buddy, Blake.”
“Mr. Blake, my view will be restricted if you sit there.”
“Blake, come sit with me and leave Ruben alone.”
Blake pushed me to slide over. “I hate riding back here. This is asinine.”
“Tell that to Cary.”
“You need a bodyguard, I don’t. I should’ve driven myself.”
“You would leave me alone?”
“What about Ruben?”
“He won’t talk. Too busy looking out for paps and stuff.”
“Well, it won’t be for long. It’ll die down soon.”
If that were the case, he should’ve sounded more confident. Heck, I wasn’t confident. At least, I didn’t Google myself on an hourly basis anymore. The headlines, too many to count, were fabricated and utterly ridiculous.
“Zara and Lauren’s catfight on set.”
“Jackson Cruz held up in hotel room in despair.”
My favorite one was, “Zara Tilly is pregnant.” That solidified I was a homewrecker.
The only one true headline was that Ahriman Studios were scrambling with a PR nightmare.
Blake nudged my side, which made me cringe in pain. Those moments were payback for hiding the shooting incident from my family. “How’s Jackson treating you?”
“Good.”
“Is it serious?”
“No.”
“That was quick. You’re not interested in Jackson anymore? Hey, then why are you going through all this?”
“I’m interested, Blake. Everything is great.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
“I barely said anything for you to assume that. What about you? Are you fine?”
“We’re talking about you.”
“I’m talking about you now. What’s with you and Zara?”
He started chuckling to himself. “What do you mean?”
“She’s having a party—and insisted I bring you. Why?”
“She did, huh? I’ll go.”
“What happened between you two at the ball?”
“Nothing. Yet.” He grinned impishly.
I had only joked about my brother being a male whore, but he was working diligently to confirm that title. “Do you like her?”
“She’s hot.”
“Hotness is a key factor?”
His smile widened. “Hotness is thee factor.”
“She’s involved with Jackson, Blake.”
“So are you,” he said, raising his left brow.
I walked right into that one.
“This is really messed up, Blake. We’re interested in two people who are pretending to be dating each other.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not that interested. She’s fun, that’s all.”
Blake always had a revolving door of available women, yet he would never admit he was looking for a woman Mamaw would approve of.
“She’s wild, I hear.”
“She may be my match. At the bar, she was throwing them down fast.”
I sighed heavily. How could he not know I would be upset at that comment?
“Can you promise me you’ll stop drinking?”
His body tensed. “It’s no big deal, Lauren.”
I knew Blake would do anything for me. Even stop drinking if I felt it would take him away from me. “It’s a big deal to me. You’re all I have.”
“I’ll try.”
“Try?”
“Okay. I will do my best to stop drinking, for you.”
“Are you saying that to keep my mouth shut?”
“Yes! I’ll do anything if you stop nagging me.”
“You call it nagging? Me not wanting you to drink so much that you pass out!”
“That doesn’t happen often.”
“It shouldn’t be happening at all, Blake. Your band could blow up. Why would you want this to affect all your hard work? If you need help dealing with everything, get professional help. Alcohol is not going to solve the problem.”
“Thank you, Dr. Nag, and I don’t need a shrink. You’re worse than Cary.”
“Cary cares about you.”
“I said I wouldn’t drink. Enough already! Hey, I know you’re concerned. All I’m trying to do is enjoy myself for a little while. Hell, you know that’s been hard for both of us. Soon, I’ll have to face the music and do boring, responsible things. But, for now, I want to take it all in before it’s over. Understan
d I won’t jeopardize my career, or our relationship, because of it. That I promise.”
“You do know I harp because I love you, right?”
“You love me too much,” he coughed out, as he ducked my punch. “Dinner with Cary and me, huh?” He questioned with a sly glance.
“Why are you looking at me that way?”
“You never came out with us before.”
“You never let me come. Anyway, Victor was the one who invited me.”
“Lauren, love, you continue to grow into quite a beautiful young lady.”
I stood on my toes to give him a hug. “Thank you, Victor.”
Victor Baine oozed the epitome of a tall, elegant, debonair Englishman, from his dark and handsome features, including cleft chin, to his exquisitely tailored gray suit. Cary and his father had similar features, but Victor was in a league all by himself. Cary’s mom died when he was a baby, but insisted on naming him Cary, her endearing nickname for Victor. She’d adored the actor Cary Grant and said she had her own cloned version of him all to herself.
Victor looked at Blake and shook his hand. “You all right?”
“Good to see you, sir.” He nodded over to Cary. “Hey, man.”
When we first walked into the Italian restaurant, fans were lined up at the bar waiting to get Cary’s picture or autograph, before Jonathan stopped the flow of admirers.
The disappointment on one particular little girl’s face was heartbreaking. While we were waiting, I asked Cary to sign a piece of paper. He looked at me strangely, but did as I asked. I then had Jonathan take it over to her. I understood her pain, for I was a fan, too.
We were ushered to a private room in the back. Normally, I would assume it was because Cary was with us, but I knew it was partly because of me.
Venice locals weren’t the problem; it was the rest of the world. When I walked in, I heard some patrons whisper my name, as I received glares from a few younger ones.
I’d learned recently that I had thick skin, and although bruised, the discomfort wasn’t unbearable.
The intimate dining room was lush with rich Italian tapestry that provided privacy. The numerous Renaissance paintings—my second favorite art period after Impressionism—created the illusion of being in a museum. Blake and I always wanted to dine there, but the prices made it unreasonable.
“Nice place, Victor. Thanks for the invite,” Blake commented.
“Blake, I’m told you’re recording a new album?”
“Yes, sir. Did Cary mention that a couple songs are for a movie soundtrack?”
“He did. How exciting for you.”
Blake smiled proudly. He respected Victor’s opinion. “This is my big chance to expand my market.”
“You know, Son, we can produce your album.”
Cary and I looked at each other, knowing it could go badly. Just as Cary had issues with his dad’s involvement in his career, Blake and Victor had numerous heated discussions regarding his. Victor could hand success over to Blake on a silver platter. Yet Blake had his own reasoning. “Victor, you know I want to do this on my own merit. But thank you for the offer.”
Victor pondered for a moment. “Commendable, but will they look out for your best interests? Think about it, and call me if you change your mind.”
He wouldn’t, and Victor knew that. Blake always refused any offers Victor threw his way. But, that didn’t stop Victor from trying to advance Blake’s career. He respected Blake’s drive to do it on his own. Normally, he wouldn’t push, but tonight it seemed Victor wasn’t backing down.
“David Black will make promises, offers that will sound too good to be true. Promise me you’ll give this a considerable amount of thought before you agree to anything,” Victor stressed, as Blake nodded his head.
While my head shot up, surprised to have heard Mr. Black’s name come out of Victor’s mouth, Cary intently studied my face and saw me flinch when Victor mentioned David’s name.
“What is it?” Cary asked, a little too loud.
The three men looked at me. “I didn’t know Victor knew David Black.”
“How do you know him?” Cary spoke louder.
Telling the truth about David Black—that he threatened me on several occasions and possibly had me shot—wasn’t going to fly well with either Cary or Victor.
“I met him at the masquerade ball, and he’s on the set sometimes.” That was all I felt I could, and should, share.
Cary looked perturbed. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I didn’t know it was important.”
“Does he speak to you often?” Victor asked.
“Yes. No.”
Victor gave Cary a troubled look.
I’d obviously missed something.
“What has he said, Lauren?” I could hear the increased agitation in Cary’s voice.
“Why would he even be talking to you?” Blake interrupted.
Cary lost his patience. “What does he say, Lauren?”
“Um, not much . . . just small talk about Jackson. He’s not thrilled with the paparazzi photos. It’s causing a lot of issues for the studio.”
That seemed to agitate Victor. “Did he threaten you?”
I must have contemplated a little too long.
Cary yelled, “Lauren!”
“Cary! Geez! We spoke briefly. Why does it matter?” I said, exasperated.
Victor raised his hand to hold back Cary and turned to me. “David’s a shrewd business man, Lauren, one of the worst. His sort doesn’t care about whom they have to hurt to get what they want. His only goal is to make Ahriman Studios the top-grossing distributor in the world, and he’s been moving closer to it by destroying his competitors. If anyone gets in the way, David’s been known to take care of the situation—unethically, I might add. He’s tried to come after my company several times.”
I leaned closer. “Take care of the situation?”
“Lauren, love, in our line of work, it’s not always about the performer, but the revenue they bring in.” He paused. “Anyone . . . anything that affects our bottom line, is considered a liability that must be dealt with swiftly.”
I sat back into my chair. “Am I a liability?”
“If you are influencing the overall profits, you are.”
All three of them stared at me. Thank goodness, the server came to take our order, because I needed a moment.
I turned to Cary. “I’m thinking this may not be worth it.”
“Finally!” Cary raised his arms in the air. Then quickly took them down when he realized no one appreciated his enthusiasm.
“Cary, I said might not be worth it. I know Jackson is worth it. You have to understand that. I need time to prove that I’m not . . . I don’t know . . . a liability I guess.”
He gave me a maddening face that was comical. Cary had to trust me; he had no choice.
I excused myself from the table. When I came back from the ladies room, Blake was gone. “Where’s Blake?”
“He was generous enough to retrieve some papers I left in my car,” Victor answered. “Lauren, we’ve been accessing the situation between you and Jackson.”
“I heard. Look, Cary, Ashley explained to me what you were thinking of doing. You’re incredible for coming up with that plan, but I think that won’t be necessary.”
Cary tried to interrupt.
“Please hear me out. You’ve done a lot to keep your private life private. I can’t have you jeopardize the little normalcy you have to help me. I owe you both so much already for everything you’ve done.”
He tried to interrupt, again. “Lau—”
“Cary, please. The gossip will pass, and I can handle it, until it does. I have to get used to this attention. Dating Jackson . . . this is going to be a way of life. Not to mention, when Blake makes it big, as I know he will. I’m going to suck it up and deal with it all. I’m not going to make a big deal out of this anymore. I can still walk down the street. No one has bothered me or approached me, recently, and I
’m so grateful for everything you do to protect me. I couldn’t ask for a better family.”
There was a brief air of silence before Cary asked, “Are you done?”
I scoffed at him.
Victor began to speak. “Blake will be back momentarily, so listen to me carefully, Lauren. We understand how you feel, and we will honor your request. It doesn’t surprise me actually, and that’s why I have your statement ready for release. This is not an option, Lauren. Your security detail will continue.”
I started to protest, but he wasn’t even acknowledging me at that point.
“I believe you still could be threatened, love. Cary told me about the shooting—”
“How could you, Cary?”
“I told you I would do whatever it takes to protect you and your family. When I realized this might not be a random shooting, I had to get Dad involved, Lauren.”
“You promised!”
“Did you not hear me? Your family doesn’t know, Lauren. I only told Dad.”
“Semantics, Cary.”
We scowled at each other. “When your life is in danger, I will do everything in my power to protect you.”
Ever since I returned home, my emotions were all over the place. As much as I tried, I couldn’t hold back the tear that ran down my cheek. Although, I was angry, scared, and a bit confused, I saw the concern—and could I dare say love—in Cary’s eyes.
Victor glanced back and forth at us. “Lauren, you do understand we believe this was not a random shooting.”
Hearing Victor say that, felt as if someone had torn open my stitches.
Cary moved quickly to my side. “Breathe, Lauren.”
Victor continued. “We are not certain, but everything indicates you were targeted, and David Black may have had his hand in it.”
I already thought so. “But why?”
“I can’t answer that right now. But I know your relationship with Jackson is making him and others uneasy.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve kept tabs on David and the studio after his first attempt to take over Baine Enterprises. You are a major threat to David’s bottom line, Lauren. You need to understand that.”
At that moment, David’s threat entered my mind. As much as I wanted to tell them everything, I was afraid of what he could do to me, but more so, to the people I loved. David was right, I had no proof, and neither did Victor. Until then, I would have to wait.
The Devil has a British Accent: Book One: Jackson (White Carpet #1) Page 18