by MK Meredith
A huge sigh of relief surged from her lungs, but she held it in check. This had to work. “Do you know Roque Gallagher?”
The corner of his mouth raised up in a smirk. “Of course I do. If memory serves, you two were having words at our wedding.”
She waved away his teasing. “Yeah, yeah. Old news. Anyway, I’m his assistant.”
“You’re what?” Sam almost spilled her coffee.
“I’ll explain later.” Looking back at Gage, she continued. “He’s working on a film. His own pet project.”
Gage dipped his chin. “Sure. I heard about it. Is it any good? I know he’s a Gallagher, but I haven’t actually seen any of his work.”
Excitement urged her forward. “I’m so glad you asked. It’s brilliant. He has a clear, really bold vision. It is a big risk but with an even bigger payoff when it’s successful.”
Sam leaned forward, listening intently.
“Really?” He exchanged a look with Sam. “I don’t know.” His tone was hesitant but interested. Sam returned his gaze with an almost imperceptive dip of her chin.
Addi straightened her spine. “Look, I know stories. I’ve studied them, both deconstructing others’ work and writing my own. I’m telling you he is onto something that could be really amazing here. Roque Gallagher is going places with or without you, and I’d love for it to be with you.”
Gage waited for her to continue.
“I’m not asking a favor but offering you a great investment, a career opportunity. One of his investors backed out, and then the director, Kemper, jumped ship.”
He narrowed his eyes while he held her gaze. She felt as if she were under assessment.
With a quick nod, he said, “What an asshole. Not surprised. That guy’s so afraid of depending on the quality of his own work, he only puts his name on finished films.”
“Well, Roque’s in danger of losing the film altogether. Someone’s been working some sort of angle spreading rumors, and with Kemper adding to the noise, Roque keeps hitting dead ends. But I know he’ll make this film amazing, and the two of you together could make this film unforgettable.”
That was the key. Unforgettable. It was one thing to be amazing, but to be a film that lasted generations, that was pure magic. The two of them could make that happen.
The muscles in Gage’s jaw clenched rhythmically, and his eyes deepened to a vivid green.
“Uh oh,” Sam giggled.
Addi tensed. “What?”
Gage pushed up from his chair and shoved it under the table. “Set up an appointment with Roque as soon as possible. I at least want to talk to him about it.”
Jumping up from her chair with a squeal, she launched herself at her brother-in-law. “Oh my God, thank you!”
He caught her with a grunt. “Hell, I need to start saying yes more often.”
“This is going to be great. Sam, can you believe this?”
Her sister laughed with her but shook her head in confusion. “I don’t even know what’s happening.”
With an excited giggle, Addi grabbed her in a tight hug. “I think I just saved my job.”
Saved her job, saved the film, lightened the burden of her little secret just enough to wiggle her muscles without a pinching pain. Relief rolled off her so fast she had put her hand on the table to steady herself.
Sam asked. “You okay?”
Addi nodded. “Yes. I think I am.”
Finally one of her ideas was a box-office hit.
If only she could say the same of her original scheme. She had to keep it a secret though her decisions might crush her. She wouldn’t be able to stand seeing the disappointment, the hurt on Roque’s face, if he found out the truth.
Chapter 16
Roque watched Addi walk back and forth through the front room, dusting, rearranging, picking things up only to set them down again. She wasn’t fooling anyone; her nerves were strung tight. Maybe she could use a little of the medicine she’d fed him on Friday night.
His body tightened at the memory. Being with her was like losing himself in the best possible way but not even knowing it until he was found again. There was a certain freedom to being lost. With her, he was his most basic self—no walls, no thinking, just instinct and action and heat. She threw quite a punch.
Suddenly, she clapped her hands and moved to the door, pulling it wide. “Hey there.”
Gage Cutler stepped across the threshold and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “Hey, yourself.”
Taking his hand, she pulled him into the room. “Roque, you have an appointment.”
Raising his brow, he joined them, extending his hand to shake Gage’s and pulling him in for a quick bump and pat on the back. “Hey, man. How was the honeymoon?”
“Amazing. We didn’t want to come back.”
Roque grasped his shoulder. “I don’t blame you. Want a beer?”
“I wouldn’t say no.”
Roque led him into the kitchen, wondering what brought the movie star to his set. His cast was full, and Gage wasn’t the right fit for this film, no matter how good he was. “What’s up?”
Gage took the offered beer with a smirk. Looking from Addi back to Roque he said, “Addi didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
Addi bustled in, waving her hands. “I didn’t want him overthinking it.”
“What’s going on?” Roque took a seat at the table.
Addi shifted from one foot to the other, making him antsy from her energy alone. What the hell was up?
Gage took a seat across from him. “You know I just got back in town.”
Roque nodded. “I heard.”
“I’m interested in your project.”
“What do you mean, interested?”
“Look, I’m branching out into directing. I may not have the years of experience you’re looking for, but I have the passion, and I’ve studied under Martin.”
Slowly, Roque nodded. Gage was talented beyond his acting. He’d seen the film his friend had debuted with as a director. It was spectacular. Problem was, there was still no budget to hire him on even if he wanted to. “I don’t doubt your ability, man. I’ve seen your work. But I don’t have the budget.” That was why he hadn’t gone to him in the first place.
Gage dipped his chin. “I want in. I want to direct, and I want to invest.”
Elation and panic raced through Roque’s chest. He shot his eyes to Addi only to find her gone. He and Gage sat at the table alone. “How can you say that? You don’t know the budget, the timeline. Nothing about the cast or crew.”
“I did some checking into it. And I want to see what you’ve got. Then I’ll contact my attorney to take care of the paperwork. I assume you don’t want to waste any more time. The whole ‘time is money’ couldn’t be more true than it is in this industry.”
Doubt pushed Roque back in his seat, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“Why? You work with friends. It’s impossible not to in this town. We aren’t family. I have no connection to the Gallagher name besides choosing to work with all of you.”
Hope flickered, but he snuffed it to a cinder. The idea that his problems were over was too much to take in at once. There was always a catch, a sacrifice. At least in this town.
But this was Gage. He was a good man.
Gage rubbed his neck. “This isn’t charity. As soon as Addi told me about the project, I wanted in. So much of your footwork for investors happened when I was busy with life. Look, you and I both know Hollywood is a beast a little less daunting when taken on as a team. And what better team than two professionals hungry to break away from who we were?”
Understatement of the century. Roque rested his arms on the table. “When are you available?”
“Now.”
Nodding slowly, Roque grinned. “This is going to be fucking amazing.” The film could get back on track. Production could start immediately. He had a great director. The idea he
’d have the lost funds replaced was going to give him an industry-sized boner.
He pushed his chair back, the wood against wood grating in the silence. On a sigh, he cracked his neck to the left, then right.
Gage stood.
Shoving out his hand for a shake, Roque laughed. “Welcome the fuck aboard, man.”
“Ha-ha, yes. Let’s fucking give this town a film they can’t stop talking about.”
Roque slapped him on the back as they walked through the house. “Have your guys contact my guys to get the ball rolling with the budget. As soon as the papers are drawn up and we’re ready to go, I’ll call all my people. In the meantime, feel free to pop back and take a look at the set. I’ll send you the script.”
Gage stepped through the front door. “I’m looking forward to it. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Roque closed the door, then leaned back against it.
What the fuck just happened?
He’d been at a loss. All of his last resources and connections drained. And now he was back in business. Just like that.
Addi.
Where the hell was she? Sneaky little brat. He checked her bedroom, the back guest room, then walked back through the kitchen. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he blew out a breath. He swiped through his text messages until he found the one he was looking for.
Addison Dekker: Writing at Starbucks. Good luck.
Grabbing his keys, he jumped in his car and headed toward the Country Mart. The more he thought about the partnership with Gage, the faster his heart beat in his chest. And all thanks to Addi.
He had a lot of shit like any other thirty-something. He worked too much, played too little. None of his other relationships survived it, but Addi understood him better than all the others. After everything she’d done to help him with this film, he’d make the time for her.
With her, he actually might have a chance at a relationship.
If she was interested.
Of course she’d be interested. Right? Sure, she’d acted a little distant after their night together, but that didn’t mean anything.
Fuck.
Through the front doors of the coffee shop, he could see her sitting at one of the little bistro tables, lost in whatever was going on in her mind, her fingers flying across the keyboard. He’d never seen her so focused.
People walked around her, chatted, laughed, yet she never moved anything but her hands.
“Focused” didn’t even begin to describe her state of mind.
She was…what? What was Addison Dekker, exactly?
She was intriguing, a challenge, a pain in the ass, a workhorse, compassionate, demanding, funny. The strangest part was he couldn’t even say which attributes were negative and which were positive. They were simply Addi, and all together, they made perfection.
He purchased a coffee then made his way to her table, slowing as he approached.
They’d bonded over the film and their dreams. What followed had left him shaken to his core and not a little bruised on the knees. His body tightened with the memory, demanding he grab her, right now, for another round.
Something had clicked, and he didn’t just want his success for him, but he wanted to show her, too. Being with her was making him want more, dream more.
However, as far as he was concerned, it had been too long already since experiencing one of life’s greatest pleasures. Not sex.
Addi.
He was in trouble. Fuck. Where’s your focus, man?
First things first—complete the film and make sure it was the best he’d ever done and impossible for Hollywood to ignore.
Second, figure out what the hell he was going to do with Addison Dekker.
“So, you’ve resorted to dropping a bomb and slipping out?”
She jumped and looked up at him with eyes that seemed to struggle to focus. Glancing from his latte back to his face, she said, “I thought I’d get a little writing in. Here…” She pushed out the chair across from her with her foot. “Sit down.”
Hesitant for a second, he lowered into the chair. “I don’t want to take you away from your writing—it’s important you get it done. But I had to come find you.”
She grinned. “Is he joining us?”
Just as he thought, she’d already taken ownership of her part in the film. He swallowed his smile. “We’re on. He’s stopping by tomorrow to talk over the script and see our setup. Once the papers are signed, I’ll call in the crew.”
She jumped up. “I’m so happy for you.” Skirting the table, she dropped a hot, wet kiss on his mouth. His hands shot out to grab her, but she’d already made it back to her seat, leaving him with her mocha taste on his mouth and honey in the air.
“Thank you, Addi.”
Looking shy, she glanced at her lap then back to him. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it before.”
He eyed her over the rim of the cup he’d brought to his lips. After setting the cup back on the table, he reached across for her hand. “It means a lot to me. This project…means a lot to me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I want to see this happen for you. See your dreams come true. Seeing you work on your film is like watching a beautiful relationship bloom.” She could hear the wistful tone in her cheesy words but didn’t care.
“You are a romantic, aren’t you?” Roque laughed.
Nodding, she sipped her coffee and closed her laptop. “To the core. It’s beautiful, promising. You don’t see it much these days, but I get to surround myself with it anyway through my work.”
He grinned back. “I like this side of you, all soft and mushy.”
She snapped straight in her chair. “I am not—”
He raised a brow.
“Fine, maybe I am. But—”
His warm hand encircled her wrist, and he caressed the sensitive underside with his thumb. “I just said I like it.”
“I dated a guy once who had the mental capacity of a bolt. He always laughed when I talked about romance or my writing.”
Roque’s brows pulled together.
Addi chuckled. “No worries, we broke up shortly after. He never understood me.”
“I want to understand you.”
“I know.” She shivered.
It was different with Addi. She made him better. Like his mother did for his dad. But he’d recognized years ago that he’d never have with anyone the kind of relationship his parents had been blessed with. Maybe if things were different. If he were different.
They held each other’s gaze, relaxing in the silence and talking with their eyes, encircled by the comforting rhythm of indiscernible conversations humming about them.
Roque broke the silence first. “My parents were a lot like Raquel and Martin. No wonder since two sisters married brothers.”
She leaned in on her elbows, holding her cup loosely between her fingers.
“My mother and father were best friends, lovers, partners.” He shook his head. “I always felt so comforted by it as a kid. I didn’t have any siblings, but I always had them. And I knew I always would. Well, I used to feel that way.”
She dropped one hand to his across the table. “Tell me more about her.”
He stared at her, then lowered his eyes to their hands. “She was everything. Warm and vibrant, intelligent, inclusive. She brought people together. She saw me in a way no one else ever has, not even my father, and he’s a wonderful man. I hope to be half the man he is someday.”
Turning her hand over in his, he traced his finger along the blue-green veins running just under the surface of her skin. “I miss her nicknames; man, how I hated them as a kid.” He leaned back with a self-deprecating laugh.
“What did she call you?”
He looked up at the ceiling then back to her, a look of chagrin on his wide mouth. Blowing out a breath, he continued. “Her beautiful boy.” He waved away the sentiment. “My parents would have passionate conversations about raising me, the state of the economy, whether the s
ky was blue or azure. You name it, they had opinions. Strong opinions. But as passionate as they were about those things, they were somehow even more so about each other, about me.”
He looked around the shop. “Mom was our rock. She kept us in line, loved us with such enthusiasm, guided us with such grace. Dad hasn’t been the same man without her, and neither have I.”
He chuckled, a low gravelly sound, then drank heavily from his cup, tipping it back and emptying it. Setting the cup down, he raised his brows. “See what happens when I talk about them? I turn all soft and mushy.”
“I like it.” Addi stood, gathered her things, and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”
He followed, and they stepped out into the cool October night. The Country Mart glowed with streetlamps and strung lights, creating a cozy ambiance perfect for an evening stroll.
“You are, you know,” she said.
“I’m what?”
“The same man you were when your mom was here.”
He shook his head. “Addi, you don’t understand.”
They’d passed through to the center courtyard, and she stepped in front of him. “But I do. There are differences, sure. No one is left unchanged after losing a part of themselves.”
That caught his attention, and his eyes held hers.
“You didn’t just lose your mother. You lost part of yourself, part of your soul. You feel hollow and wonder if you’ll ever feel whole again.”
He couldn’t get any words out, beyond a slight dip of his chin.
“The boy she helped to mold into this wonderful, creative man is still there, but now he’s accompanied by a tougher shadow as well, someone determined to make himself the success his mother always knew he’d be. Someone who could forge ahead in the midst of loss.”
Her eyes were earnest, and he couldn’t look away as she continued. “You channeled everything wonderful about what she taught you, what she saw in you, to become all you are now. You’re amazing. I don’t know how you did it. I can’t imagine losing my mom.”
“One thing at a time.”