by Dee J. Adams
Cal shrugged like it was no big deal, but Julie still felt bad.
“Drew,” Julie said, hoping to help. “What if I come with you guys?”
Cal covertly mouthed thank you behind her hand.
“We can catch up. I’m still upset that I had to cancel our lunch a couple of months ago.” They’d rescheduled, but she’d had to cancel that appointment too after being shot. “What do you say? I can follow you and Cal home.”
Drew slowly met her gaze. He had a lost look in his eyes that was becoming too familiar. “You will?” he asked. Julie realized that Hollywood had crushed the boy who’d had such huge hopes and dreams. He’d not only lost his confidence, he’d lost his self-esteem. It was as if Tinseltown had literally stolen Drew’s mental health. His father’s suicide hadn’t helped anything, nor had the fact that Drew had found Andrew Sr.’s body. His life had been a downhill slide ever since.
“Sure.” She took his hand and squeezed. “We can make some popcorn and catch up. How does that sound?”
A smile blossomed on his face and he looked like the old Drew. Julie still couldn’t figure out why Hollywood had passed over him for so many years. He was a good-looking guy with the same blond hair and amazing light brown eyes as his sister. “It sounds good. As long as you don’t go back on your word.”
Ouch. That stung. Apparently he wanted to hold onto his grudge because she’d canceled their last two visits. “I won’t go back on my word. Jeez. Give me a break,” she teased with an eye roll and quick smack to his forearm. “It’s not every day a girl gets shot and loses her spleen.”
Drew’s eyes rounded before his face crinkled up. Uh oh. Wrong thing to say. The man was going to cry any minute. He had more moods than a schizophrenic with bipolar issues.
“C’mon,” Julie said, rising to her feet and extending a hand. “Let’s blow this joint so we can get comfortable and pop in a movie or something.”
“Blow this joint,” Drew echoed. He laughed and took her hand, his mood shifting once again. “I like that.” He reminded her of the eleven-year-old boy she’d first met in acting class with Cal. He’d been fearless, ready to tackle any scene or exercise. He’d had an energy and vitality that made him stand out.
“Hey. Yo. What about me?” Cal said from her spot on the floor. “I could use a little help.” She lifted both hands, and Julie and Drew each grabbed one and pulled her up. She tested her ankle by circling it and putting some weight on it. “I think I’m good,” she said with a wink to her brother.
His sweet smile decimated Julie. Drew’s love for his sister shone as bright as sparklers on the Fourth of July. Ever since their mom had died nine years ago, Cal had taken care of Drew. She’d been not only his older sister, but his surrogate mother.
Julie respected her best friend. Cal had a lot on her plate dealing with Drew and her career, paying for the mortgage on the house she grew up in and her own condo. She had a big nut to crack every month, but she’d been doing it for years.
An arm draped around Julie’s shoulders and she recognized Ari’s strong scent of patchouli. As usual, he had his dark hair slicked back against his head. Her smile faltered and she got the heebie jeebies when he kissed her temple. Troy stood just behind him, looking as if nothing had happened, his face stony.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ari asked softly in her ear.
“I’m fine.” She didn’t like putting up with Ari’s roaming hands in public. For some unexplainable reason, she couldn’t meet Troy’s gaze. Only at the last minute did she look into his eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He nodded, his expression somber, his lips a grim line.
She wanted to hug him, wanted to see the smile she’d seen in the hospital when they’d talked and joked. He stood four feet away but it might as well have been miles. It was as if some invisible barrier kept them separated.
Well, bullshit to that. She didn’t care what anyone thought, especially Ari, so she pulled out from his arm and marched over to Troy, where she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. “Really. I seem to say it a lot, but thank you.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and hugged her briefly. He felt so solid against her, like he could withstand anything that came at him, be it bullets or a flight of stairs. She pulled away and looked into his eyes, finally getting the whisper of a smile she’d been hoping for.
“Julie,” Drew called. “C’mon. We’re waiting.”
Right. Drew. After saying more goodbyes, Julie and Drew helped Cal to the garage. Julie promised to follow directly behind to keep Drew from having a panic attack.
She would’ve rather been with Troy, thanking him a different way for breaking her fall. Just thinking about how close she’d come to breaking her neck had a chill racing down her spine. She’d never forget the strength of the man beneath her.
Her thigh still tingled where she’d felt him grow against her. She flushed at the memory, at the heat in his gaze, the solid strength of his muscles and the pounding of his heart beneath her. God, what a stud. She shook off the haze as she started her car and waited for Cal to pass her going out of the garage.
It took about thirty minutes to get to Cal’s Studio City place, and Julie helped her up the small flight of steps to the building and her spacious condo.
Cal and Julie both ditched their heels as soon as they walked in the door, and Drew slipped off his navy blazer. He went straight to the kitchen. “I’m making popcorn,” he singsonged. His foul mood seemed to have disappeared, which suited Julie fine.
“I need to use the bathroom,” Julie said, doing the hold it in dance of someone who’d had too much to drink at lunch. She beelined to the guest bathroom where all of Drew’s things cluttered the dark marble countertop.
“Hey, Julie,” Drew yelled a minute later from outside the door. “I made some of that mango tea you talked about. Will you have some and tell me what you think?”
Julie finished in the bathroom, washed her hands and opened the door to see Drew with a whopper of a smile creasing his face. “Well, since I’ve lightened my load, I can have some, sure,” she said.
Drew had already poured them each a glass. Julie carried one to Cal, who had a comfortable spot on the sofa. Julie sat back on the thick cushions. The couch was very similar to the one she had at her house. Cal had fallen in love with it and bought nearly the same thing in a different color.
Cal gulped her drink. “Ugh. Drew, what’s in here? I think it’s a little bitter. What do you think?” She stretched out on the sofa, her foot nearly in Julie’s lap.
Julie tasted the drink. It was icy cold just the way she liked her tea, but Cal was right about the bitterness. She didn’t want Drew backsliding into a depression though and she took another sip. “This is...interesting. Maybe I’ll pick some up for my place. With a lot of sugar.”
Drew beamed and took a drink. He grimaced. “Yuck, this is awful!”
Julie sipped more and made a face just to elicit a laugh from Drew. It worked.
Cal puckered her lips together after another taste. “I’m so tired. How come three-hour luncheons wipe me out so fast?” She set her glass on the coffee table.
Julie had more tea, then set it next to Cal’s. She couldn’t hold back a giant yawn. “Because it’s exhausting to be ‘on’ for that many hours.” She stretched her legs, crossed her ankles on the coffee table and leaned her head back on the sofa. “This is nice,” she muttered.
“It is nice,” Drew said. “When was the last time the three of us spent any alone time together?”
The carefree smile on his face made Julie happy. She shook her head. “I can’t even remember.”
“It’s been years,” Drew said before sipping his own tea. His voice sounded sad and maybe a little angry. “I feel like you guys have left me behind.”
Cal lifted one eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I see you all the time.”
Scowling at her best friend, Julie scrambled for damage control. “Drew, I m
iss this too. But sometimes schedules change and I can’t control what happens.” When the three of them had first met, they’d been virtually inseparable. Julie loved them both like the siblings she’d always wanted and never had. But as her career took off and life got busy, her time with Drew had dwindled to a fraction of what it used to be. Julie didn’t realize Drew’s mood swings had become so frequent. Cal hadn’t mentioned him having any public breakdowns and Julie hadn’t thought to ask.
As she watched Cal, a pang of sympathy hit her chest. Cal worked her butt off to keep her brother safe. Drew had been a happy kid for the most part, but after their father had committed suicide, he’d withdrawn. Cal had managed to pull him out of his depression just in time for their mother to be diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She’d died within six months of their father’s funeral. It was as if Drew snapped after that. He’d retreated to someplace in his mind and hadn’t managed to cope with life. He held down a job bagging groceries at the market around the corner, and Julie figured that’s what kept him as grounded as he was.
Cal yawned and Julie followed. She was dead tired. All it took was sitting down on a comfortable couch for a few minutes and her body said naptime. Cal’s lids drooped over her eyes and she sighed. “We are so lame. I think if someone screamed fire, we’d turn over and go to sleep.”
“Fire,” Drew said from the recliner adjacent to the sofa. He had his feet propped up and a grin on his face.
“Always the comedian,” Julie mumbled. Her lids felt like bricks and the sofa offered her a delicious respite.
“You two are boring,” Drew said. But he leaned back in the recliner, linked his fingers and rested his head in his hands. “Hey, Julie, do you think we can have our lunch next week? We can make it an early birthday celebration.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot your birthday is coming up,” Cal mumbled, her eyes closed.
“Some best friend you are,” Julie teased. “Lunch sounds good,” she murmured, happy to be off her feet and the three-inch heels she’d worn most of the day.
“Just think,” Drew said, “If you hadn’t spun away from that bullet, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Mmm.” Julie agreed. “True.” Her eyes drifted shut. Good thing Cal had passed out first. Drew’s smile was the last thing Julie saw before she conked out.
* * *
The guns were lined up in order of size on the table. Three rifles, three handguns. It was a nice collection. All had been well used over the years, mostly for target practice, but most recently not. Several lethal knives gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the window.
Shooting Julie Fraser on the red carpet provided an unbelievable feeling of satisfaction. But it hadn’t kept her down. Missing her at the party in the hills had been a real shame. If she hadn’t spun around at the last second, that bullet would’ve landed right in her cold-blooded heart. Watching the other bullets hit her on the red carpet had been massively exhilarating. Where the hell that stupid bodyguard came from was still a mystery. He wasn’t on the payroll, which meant they were getting it on.
Little Miss America’s Sweetheart was doing the nasty after prolonged abstinence. At least that’s what it looked like. Why else would this guy be hanging around all of sudden? It wasn’t for the homemade chocolate chip cookies.
Fingering the cold steel of the Colt felt good. It felt solid and strong, just like its owner.
It felt good to always have the guns and knives close, though chances were good they wouldn’t be necessary after tomorrow.
Research had shown that there were other, more fun ways for Julie to die. Bullets were nice, but sometimes overrated. Experimenting with explosives had been new, fun and challenging. Discovering poisons had been educational as well. Buying lethal drugs had also been much easier than anticipated. So many interesting ways to kill. It was amazing how much a person could learn from the Internet and from making connections in all the right places.
Julie could run, but she couldn’t hide.
* * *
Sitting in his car, in the dark, on Julie’s deserted street, Troy leaned his head against the headrest. Not one streetlight lit this small canyon road, which maximized the potential for security issues. He’d been here for almost an hour already, had the realtor’s phone number on the for-sale sign memorized. He should go home. Yeah, he’d been telling himself that for about forty minutes now. “Go home.” But he glanced at the house and didn’t budge.
What did he think was going to happen? Today’s freak accident had weirded him out something fierce. That Julie might have died in front of him a third time had his palms sweating. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he looked at the house again. The same lights lit the back of the house where she spent most of her time in the large comfortable den.
Troy shifted in the seat, his muscles sore from the fall earlier. He couldn’t get the vision of Julie out of his head, would remember until the day he died how her arms and legs flailed before he’d snagged her against him just before she’d hit the stairs.
He shook his head. Sitting here another minute wasn’t going to change anything. She was fine. Today had been an accident, not some stalker situation.
Shifting again, he’d put his hand on the keys to start the car when his phone rang. He checked the screen.
Julie Fraser.
Troy shot a glance to the house, expecting to see her staring at him through the side window of the front door, but all looked quiet. Not a curtain or blind out of place. He punched the screen on his phone.
“Mills here,” he said.
“Very businesslike of you.” The amusement in Julie’s voice came through clear as shiny crystal.
“I’m nothing if not a businessman,” he replied evenly. “Everything okay?” The last time she’d called him, it was because she wanted him to check out the security on her house. Well, he’d not only done that, but he’d persuaded her to move as well. That she took his advice so seriously made a huge crack in the wall he kept trying to build between them.
“Mostly.” She sighed. “At the tail end of a killer headache.” Troy imagined her stretched out on her thick comfortable sofa. “I was just thinking about today.” He waited, not wanting to bring up something that was bound to take them in the wrong direction. “Thinking about what might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there.”
Yeah. He’d been thinking about it too. Wasn’t that the reason he’d been sitting in front of her house for the past hour? What did it mean that he’d been in the right place at the right time the last three times she needed him most? This had to be some kind of fated cosmic joke.
“Don’t think about things that didn’t happen.”
She snorted. “Are you practicing to be a shrink?”
He grinned. “Naw. I just thought it sounded good.”
“Mmm,” she said. “I, uh, was hoping to talk to you a little more. We didn’t really get a chance today since I needed to help Cal get Drew home. I’m not sure I thanked you properly.”
Troy closed his eyes and remembered the tight hug, the clean fresh scent unique to Julie, and imagined all the ways she could properly thank him. Like letting him have unlimited access to every inch of her bare skin. A quick vision of her spread out on a bed with his face between her legs whizzed through his brain and sparked a hot blast to his dick. Shit. He needed to keep his mind on the conversation.
“You did,” he assured her. Yeah, he got that she was giving him every opportunity to take advantage, and every instinct he had told him things with Ari weren’t what they looked like, but he still couldn’t step into uncharted territory with her. “How is Carrie Ann, by the way? Her ankle going to be all right?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. She just tweaked it a little.”
“What’s the deal with the guy today? Was that Carrie Ann’s boyfriend?” Troy asked.
“No. That was her brother, Drew. He has a few issues. Most of the time he functions very well. But he tends to crack under pressure. We went back
to Cal’s place and he calmed down. Then we took the longest nap in the history of mankind on her sofa this afternoon.”
That explained why she was wide-awake and calling him at eleven at night. She didn’t say anything for a long time and Troy waited, knowing she had something heavy on her mind.
“I must have really been tired because I woke up feeling like I had a hangover. Falling asleep usually cures my headaches, it doesn’t bring them on. Boring stuff. So...are you doing laundry tonight?” she asked.
He chuckled at her delivery. “Nope. No laundry.”
“Do you think maybe...would you like to...” She huffed a sigh. “I’d really like to see you. Face to face. Do you think we could meet somewhere or maybe you could drop by my place? I mean, unless you’re too tired. I know it’s late.”
Troy leaned his head back against the seat, more torn than he’d ever been in his life.
“Troy?” she said again. “I wouldn’t ask this except I can’t ask my mom because she’s taking a road trip tomorrow and I know she’s asleep already and Cal is hanging with her brother since he’s staying at her place for a few days.” She stopped. “I’m sorry. I sound pitiful and stupid and—”
“Stop right there.” Troy sat up straighter, couldn’t stand to hear her say those things about herself when they weren’t anywhere near the truth. “I’ll be right there.”
Fuck it. He didn’t care that she knew he’d been sitting across the street in his car. Didn’t care about anything except that she was lonely and probably scared, not only because a stranger kept sending her flowers, but also because she could’ve died today just by a fall and not some stalker’s bullet. What kind of life lesson was that?
Troy got out of the car and walked across the street. He debated all of two seconds before he said another mental fuck it and rang the doorbell. He heard Julie on the other end. Knew she was checking him out through the peephole. Saw her wide-eyed fascination as she opened the door. Wearing skin-tight, faded jeans and a figure-molding green T-shirt, she looked good enough to eat.