Dream Man (Executive Women in Love Book 1)

by Rose, Celia T.

  Surprisingly, he didn’t appear to be annoyed.

  “No, of course not. Times like these we need company.”

  “It’s true.” She sat next to him and attempted to calm her pounding heart. Now what?

  Max paged through yesterday’s paper, which had been left on the table in the emergency waiting room, but he couldn’t concentrate. He wondered if Melania would be all right. How heart breaking it would be to have to talk with her parents about some serious medical condition.

  He felt the eyes of someone on him. He looked up and saw the same woman he’d noticed when he’d first arrived. She seemed to hesitate as she walked toward him. He hoped she wouldn’t be another fan trying to get face time with him.

  She was a pretty thing and couldn’t be more than five–foot-two and not much over a hundred pounds. She carried herself with an air of confidence that somehow seemed beyond her apparent years. Her long, brown, wavy hair swayed in front of a trim, petite build.

  As she got closer, Max thought he recognized her. But he couldn’t pinpoint how.

  She asked to sit, and Max agreed, waving her in the direction of the empty seat next to him. Maybe she just needed a little company having been distressed over whatever brought her to the hospital.

  A few seconds of silence passed. Max opened the conversation. “Miserable having to be here at this late hour, huh? What brought you here?” Her luminous doe eyes seemed to draw him into a warm pool of milk chocolate swirling in sweetness. A scent of lavender and vanilla drifted in his nostrils.

  “My little sister, Jenny.”

  “What happened?”

  “She got into a car accident. She’s only sixteen. Her friend, Ben, the driver, lost control in the rainstorm.” She paused, then continued. “Ben, is a responsible, straight-laced kid. The doc says he’ll be fine and released tonight. But Jenny needs surgery. She’s a good kid, as well. We manage quite well. Usually. I still can’t help worrying about her especially since most kids her age are trouble-bound.”

  She talked quickly, nervously, obviously distressed. Max wondered who the other part of the “we” was. It wouldn’t surprise him if the other person attached to the “we” was either a boyfriend—or husband. “Wow. Not good. What’s the operation for?”

  “She fractured her femur. The doctor assured me it should be an uncomplicated surgery and then she’d be admitted to the hospital for a short time afterwards.” She paused and shook her head. “When I heard she’d been in a car accident, my heart just about stopped. Our parents died in a car accident.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear it. That must have been hard for you to have relived the nightmare. And hard coping without parents as well. Do you have any other family in town?”

  Felicity shot him a pained look. “No. Some distant relatives back East, in Massachusetts. Our grandparents are gone. We’ve managed well enough on our own.”

  The girl seemed to be with it. Good for her.

  Max wondered again if she knew of him. In a way, he’d hoped she didn’t. For once, he’d like to have a human exchange without his notoriety being a factor. However, he couldn’t be rude either. “I’m Max Marx, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

  The firmness of the handshake she returned impressed him. “Oh, I know who you are.” She smiled.

  No signs of the usual gushing. What a relief.

  “I’m Felicity Burgess. Who are you here for?”

  “Ah, yes, an acting student I’d taken to dinner. She drank a little wine with her meal, and I don’t know how it happened, but she got sick after I took her home. She called me and asked me to take her here. Her roommates were out. The doctor said she needed a battery of tests before he could determine the source of the trouble.” Max furrowed his brow. “I sure hope she didn’t do any illicit drugs. She lives with three other students of my playhouse she’d met through an international circuit. I have my concerns because they do their share of partying and hitting the town.”

  “Would you be referring to The American Playhouse?”

  She not only knows who I am but follows my projects. Impressive. Yet she’s so casual and at ease. Max liked Felicity’s style. She struck him as familiar, but his brain was tired and he couldn’t place where he knew her. “I see you do your research.”

  “I think it’s wonderful to carve time out of your hectic filming schedule to help aspiring actors make their way. As well as for your other projects and charities throughout the world. I have to admit . . .” Her full, dark lashes fluttered over those big brown eyes. No, wait, he’d detected sparkles of green. “. . . I’ve followed your career. I can’t help it. I’m a fan.”

  Ah, jeez, here we go. But, still, she’s not the same as the typical stargazed fan. “I enjoy working the playhouse. It gives me an opportunity to make a meaningful contribution to society. I’m so tied up with the movie schedule I hardly have enough time to devote to it.”

  Felicity nodded. “I’m no stranger to working round the clock. I’m in a related business to yours and follow the industry news.”

  She had a depth and poise he hadn’t experienced in his dating pool of Hollywood’s top models and actresses. He relaxed and looked forward to passing a stressful time with this enchanting creature.

  Why am I blathering about like this?

  Felicity could kick herself for being so anxious. She had to act cool.

  “How do you pre-screen your students?” Felicity asked.

  “Carefully. We don’t charge tuition. It’s a completely volunteer organization. I have several other participating actors who give generously of their time and support. Therefore, I spend a bit of time interviewing the candidates to see if they have what it takes.” He brushed a nonexistent piece of lint off his pant leg. “So, you say you’re in the biz? Tell me about your job.”

  “Well, I, um . . .”

  He nudged her arm with his elbow. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

  Felicity immediately felt warm all over from his slight touch. “I run Teen View on the Applaud! network.”

  “Wait. I thought you looked familiar. I just read about you in The Hollywood Reporter. Nice article about your work.”

  Felicity felt her face burn with embarrassment. He’d read about her! “Yes. That’s me. I’m flattered you saw it.”

  “I like to see local talent get ahead. I’m impressed with your tenacity in fighting against the brass in Hollywood. What was it the article said? That’s right, you’re a savant.”

  Heat flashed in her chest. “Yeah, I had to look that one up myself. But, I’m not exactly playing in the big leagues.”

  “You’re getting there.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Felicity could feel the flush run to her cheeks. “I do have an idea for a new reality series . . .”

  “I read a little about it in the article. Tell me more.”

  He seemed genuinely interested. Should she tell him? Why not?

  “I have an idea for a new show. It’s a step-up from the usual gossip, drama-ridden stuff.” Felicity took a deep breath and waited for the right words to formulate in her mind. “What if there were a series played by executive women who were on the fast track building their careers while juggling family responsibilities or a vivacious social schedule with a super-charged sex life? I envision the show to have just enough edge to give today’s hard-working professionals a chance to escape from their daily challenges.”

  “Sound interesting. Have you pitched it to Applaud!?”

  “First, they don’t think I’m seasoned enough to have my own show. Second, they’re fully booked. The established franchises have taken all of the prime TV slots. There’s simply no room.”

  “Yeah, but I’m sure each franchise has a certain shelf life. Like everything else in television.”

  “Maybe.”

>   Max seemed to be contemplating something.

  Guilt pulled at her heart as her thoughts returned to her sister in surgery. The timing is way off. Too bad, she’d met Max under such unfortunate circumstances.

  Then the dratted interruption occurred. “Sir, the doctor would like to see you about Ms. Hernandez.”

  Max stood but took a moment to slip Felicity his card.

  She scrambled to locate her own and pressed it to his hand.

  “Why don’t you give me a call? We’ll meet for lunch.” He scurried to the awaiting attendant and glanced back. “Hope your sister’s okay.”

  Then he disappeared behind the open door.

  Did she just have a chat with Maxwell Marx? Did he really give her his business card? She stared at it and read it repeatedly:

  Maxwell Marx, Actor, Entrepreneur.

  She’d love to take their discussion further—professionally and personally.

  Her dream!

  Relax, girl. He was probably just being polite.

  Chapter 2

  Felicity jolted to reality when a hospital employee called her name. She jumped up and approached the waiting nurse. “How is she?”

  “She’s in recovery. I’ll lead you there. You can wait with her while we process the paperwork for admission.”

  Felicity couldn’t help poking around for Max. She didn’t spot him or Melania leaving the ER. She surreptitiously peeked in every room she passed.

  When Felicity arrived at the recovery room, Jenny was fast asleep. Dr. Meyer came in shortly after. “I’m confident Jenny will make a full recovery. However, she will be in a cast for three to six months and then require follow-up therapy for about the same time. Given her age and great physical condition she may recover sooner.”

  Poor Jenny.

  Three Days Later

  “Ready to get your life back?” Felicity asked.

  Freshly showered and wearing the sundress Felicity had bought her for her hospital release, Jenny beamed a smile. She walked with her crutches across the hospital room showing off obviously well practiced new skill. “I’m so ready to get out of here and eat normal food.”

  “How about a gourmet pizza tonight?” Felicity offered.

  “With chicken wings?”

  “Sure thing.” Felicity gathered Jenny’s belongings and packed them into a bag.

  A hospital attendant showed up with a wheelchair.

  “I won’t need it.” Jenny did a turn with her crutches.

  “I’m sorry, dear. Hospital policy requires you be wheel-chaired out.”

  Reluctantly Jenny sat in the chair, handing her crutches over to Felicity. As soon as they swished through double doors to the outside, Jenny grabbed the crutches from Felicity and got up requiring little assistance.

  On the ride home, Jenny seemed filled with renewed energy. “Since I’m not really learning much at Ritmoore High, I’ve been thinking about maybe getting my GED and early-registering at the community college.”

  A new Jenny had evidently been born. “Whoa. I love the enthusiasm, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to skip out on high school.”

  “My high school sucks. I’ve been checking online about college.” Jenny gave her a meaningful glance. “Thanks for bringing my tablet by the way. It’s been a lifesaver. Anyway, I took the sample pre-entrance exams for the adult education program and passed with a ninety-five!” Jenny apparently saw Felicity’s look of warning, so she continued, “Don’t worry, Ma. I got it. I could take the GED exam as soon as next month. Once in college, if I make A’s and B’s, they’ll transfer my credits toward a full-fledged college degree. I know I can do it if I put my mind to it.”

  “And how do you plan to pay for the tuition?” Felicity certainly didn’t want to discourage Jenny yet Felicity struggled to make ends meet, especially since they lived in high rent LA.

  “Got it covered. I can get tax-deferred student loans.” Jenny seemed proud of herself.

  “I think it’s wonderful you’re thinking of college. However with your grade point average you’ll probably qualify for a scholarship and then maybe you won’t have to rely a hundred percent on loans.”

  “I can see your point, especially since I plan to be a doctor. This entire ordeal has really inspired me. I’ve had candid discussions with the staff about the details of my operation. I think it’s really cool.”

  Three days in a hospital bed was all it took for a complete turn-about in attitude. There’s a teenager for you. “That’s quite a feat. Many years of schooling—”

  “My brain’s too hyperactive. I think I need the challenge. My entire perspective on life has changed, Felice. I’m serious. It’s time for me to plan for my own future. And I’m young still. I could be a doctor by the age of twenty-four or –six.”

  Felicity burst with pride. Yet she knew to be cautiously optimistic. As with any hormonal teenager, Jenny’s sudden turnabout might not last. She hoped Jenny wouldn’t feel the peer pressure to return to her bad behavior. “I—I am so proud. It’s amazing how this accident has turned out to be a life motivator for you.”

  Jenny tapped away on her cell.

  Texting her friends, no doubt. It’s okay. Felicity was overjoyed. For all she cared, Jenny could text the entire rest of the way home.

  “I know I’ve been a handful lately. Getting arrested over pot. Fist-fighting in school. It’s been a rough year. But, I plan to get on course and study very hard. Not kidding.”

  “I believe you.”

  And Felicity prayed Jenny’s enthusiasm would not be short-lived.

  Felicity bustled about late on a Tuesday morning at the studio. Up to her ears, trying to get the last scene wrapped up, she frantically called for a retake. It didn’t seem like it was going to happen anytime soon, and it was nearly lunchtime. Her stomach growled as she thought about food. She’d been in such a hurry she’d forgotten to eat breakfast.

  Her cell buzzed in her back pocket. She answered without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”

  “Felicity, this is Max Marx.”

  OMG! It’s him. He’s calling ME. Must act calm and professional.

  “Yes, er, how are you?”

  “Good. How’s your sister?”

  Felicity motioned Shantae to take over as she skirted out to the hallway for some quiet. “Jenny’s home. And with a renewed attitude. She wants to go to college.” Why she brought that up she didn’t know. He’d hardly be interested.

  “Wonderful. I know you were concerned about her.”

  He cared enough to remember?

  “I’m calling to schedule lunch with you. I have some time this week. Would you like to meet for lunch or dinner? I—I realized you may not be able to get away from the set during business hours . . .”

  Felicity mentally ran through her schedule. “No, yes, it’s quite all right. I rarely take lunch, though Thursday is usually a lighter day.”

  “Okay. We’ll do dinner then? How about we meet at six at the Fig and Olive on Thursday?”

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  “Great. See you then.”

  Maxwell Marx is interested in my project. Unbelievable. Wait ‘till I tell Margo!

  Before jumping to conclusions and spouting off at the mouth to her friends, she needed to feel Max out. See if he can really help her.

  Did she have all of her ducks in order? She’d better get to her project research and be prepared to give Max all the facts before she met him. And in only two days, actually one and a half days. Would she be ready in time?

  Max got to the Fig and Olive fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. He sipped his water and took in the décor. Painted fish swam on ceiling-to-floor antique mirrors, white columns sprinkled the hard, oak-wood floors, and stained-glass windows str
eaked multiple colors through the restaurant in the early evening sun.

  Felicity strode in. Her wall-to-wall smile lit up the room. Max stood and waved to get her attention. When she arrived at his table, he took her hand and kissed it. She seemed a little shocked. Well, dammit, she was ravishing in her neat pencil skirt and pink button blouse with matching lipstick.

  And they say guys don’t notice what women wore.

  Max certainly did.

  “Nice to see you again, Miss Burgess.”

  “It’s Felicity.”

  “And I’m Max to you.”

  She sat with the ease of a summer’s day. Not a single sign of nerves, and Max suspected Felicity had them. Still she held herself with grace and poise. As soon as she’d settled, the waiter approached and asked for their drink order. She ordered Saratoga water.

  To hell with it. He ordered a martini straight-up. “I’m off for the rest of the week, so might as well relax.”

  Felicity shrugged and pulled out a huge pile of paperwork from her briefcase.

  Max could see Miss Burgess was all about business.

  “I did some research and found evidence supporting the idea for the new series. I’d like to call it Executive Women in Action. I believe it’d perfect for a Sunday prime time slot. It can get everyone psyched-up for the week. What do you think?”

  Her vivacious brown eyes sparkled with green flickers as she spoke and presented various schedules and charts. Max was impressed with the depth of work she’d done for the proposal.

  “Max?”

  He snapped to attention.

  She’d caught him daydreaming. What was it about this woman that unraveled him? “Yes, I’m with you. I’m getting a little overwhelmed by this mountain of paperwork. We haven’t even ordered dinner.”