by Rowe, Julie
Jeff MacKay stood five feet away, and behind him were a half-dozen photographers, their digital cameras pointed at her and snapping like the ankle-biter dogs they were.
Jeff blinked and smiled at Calla, but it looked stiff and uncomfortable on his face.
Her day got worse.
“Hello, darling. I didn’t expect you to be here. Going somewhere?” he asked.
She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her mouth, and pushed past the annoying actor. “Yep.”
He followed. “Where?”
“None of your business.” She peered at the photographers. Maybe she could do something useful with this awkward situation. Her life was in shambles, but she couldn’t let Jeff MacKay ruin Alex’s, too. She just couldn’t, no matter that he lied to her.
Calla raised her voice and said, “And you waiting at Alex’s door…creepy.”
“I’m trying to talk some sense into a stubborn lawyer. How’s that creepy?”
“Does the word S-T-A-L-K-E-R mean anything to you? I do have a restraining order that says you’re not allowed to do this sort of thing.”
He shrugged. “But I didn’t know you were here.” He gestured at the press busy taking photos. They were here before I was and no one said a thing about you being inside.”
The photographers started to shout questions at her. She turned to them with a frown. “What, now you want to know what’s going on? Don’t tell me you bought the sob story he sold you this morning?”
“You’re not going to dump Alex Hardy for Jeff MacKay?” one man shouted louder than the rest.
“Nope.” She waded through them toward her car.
“He was named the Sexiest Man of the Year,” another said. “Millions of women love him.”
“Who are you?” Calla asked with one eyebrow raised. “MacKay’s publicity team? The only person I know of who loves Jeff MacKay is…Jeff MacKay.” She opened her car door and was about to get in, but gave them one more tidbit before she closed the door. “And please, try not to step on my fiancé’s flowers. He’s very sensitive about them.”
She backed down the driveway and waved at MacKay, now surrounded by the photographers who were yelling and taking pictures at the same time.
Her day got a whole lot better.
…
Alex woke to banging on the front door.
Loud banging.
Angry banging.
Angry…Calla.
He bolted upright and searched the house, but he was totally and completely alone.
Damn it.
The banging got louder.
He went back to his bedroom and yanked on a pair of pants, then rushed to the door, hoping it was Calla, upset that she’d forgotten something.
Jeff MacKay was not the person he wanted to see.
He glared at the other man’s neatly pressed trousers and shirt. “What?”
“I want her.”
“Huh?”
“I’m going to get her.” There was no trace of a smile on MacKay’s face.
Alex glanced past the other man’s shoulder at the herd of photographers taking pictures and shouting stupid questions. No Calla in sight. “How’s that working for you so far?”
The actor crossed his arms over his chest and thrust his chin out as he said, “I wasn’t serious about it before. I am now.”
The idea that MacKay could be serious about anything boggled the mind. “Why now and not before?”
MacKay grinned a not-nice grin. “She’s got balls.”
The man was an idiot. “You just figured that out now?”
“I thought she was playing hard to get.” MacKay shrugged. “Sometimes women try it to get my attention. But she’s for real.”
“She doesn’t play at the important stuff. And you should have figured that out about her already, too.”
“So, you’re saying you’re smarter than I am?”
Alex didn’t bothering answering that stupid question.
“There’s a problem with that,” MacKay said with a smirk. “You lied to her.”
“How many times this week have you lied, MacKay? Once, twice…a dozen times?” He shook his head. “Get off my property.” He shut the door with a thump. He jerked it open and said with a raised voice, “And don’t trample my flowers.” He slammed the door again.
Wherever Calla went, she needed to be warned. Alex picked up his cell phone and sent her a quick text message: MacKay just left here. He’s decided you’re his dream girl.
She didn’t respond.
Time to start the begging and pleading his grandmother ordered him to do. I need to apologize. I should have told you I was sending the flowers and notes the first time it came up.
Calla: I’m sorry the person you’re trying to reach doesn’t accept text apologies. Please make an appointment to see her in person.
Alex laughed. Point taken. When can I have an appointment?
Calla: When hell gets a gondola for its ski hill.
Hmm, that didn’t sound very promising. About your suspension to practice… We should meet to discuss the next steps.
Calla: I fired you, remember?
Alex: I’m doing this pro bono.
Calla: Why?
Alex: Because I owe you.
Calla: That is the worst answer you could have given me. He could almost hear the anger vibrating her words.
Alex: Please.
Calla: Oh, now that you said please…
Alex: I screwed up. I’m sorry. I need to make it up to you.
Calla: The last thing I need to deal with is your guilty conscience.
His grandmother was right. He was going to have to grovel a lot. This mess is partly my fault. Let me do what I can to fix it.
It was several minutes before she replied with: Fine. Deal with the AMA on my behalf. That’s all.
Alex: Agreed.
She didn’t respond.
He couldn’t lie to himself. She might not talk to him ever again. Still, he wouldn’t abandon her, no matter how angry she got. Because no matter how angry she got, she was always truthful and never hid how she felt. Never tried to manipulate him.
Maybe words were the wrong way to go about apologizing. Flowers worked the last time. This time he had to up the ante and prove his truth.
Let the circus begin.
…
Calla pulled up into her own driveway and went into her house, locking the door behind her. She snorted at the thought of photographers looking in the windows and taking pictures. Alex had wanted to install a new alarm system. She would have argued it was unnecessary, but now with a celebrity stalker it might be a good idea.
Except, every cent that came in was owed to the bank for one thing or another.
Student loans, medical bills, mortgage, the list went on and on.
Was she going to have a job on Monday?
She’d better contact a real estate agent and see about selling the house. Not that she’d get much for it. She might have to take a loss. One more bill to add to the pile.
Her cell phone dinged and she checked the incoming text.
Jeff MacKay.
How did he get her number? He wanted to bury the hatchet. Go on a real date. Really?
Irritating man.
She texted back: I want no further contact with you. Be advised, I’m forwarding this text to the police. She quickly punched in her brother’s number. Maddy had said she’d take care of him, but she wanted to be sure he was okay.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey Sis, how are you?”
The sound of his voice, happy and relaxed, eased muscles in her chest she hadn’t known were tense. “Fine. What about you? Was everything okay at Maddy’s house last night?”
“Yeah, she hired round-the-clock nursing care for me, not that I needed it. I feel like I’m at some kind of spa or something.”
“Well, I suppose this could count as a vacation.”
“So, can I stay a few more days?”
Surprise had he
r asking tentatively, “You want to stay?”
“Sure, Maddy is like the eccentric grandma I never had, and her chef makes the best eggs Benedict I’ve ever tasted.”
“You and your eggs.” Thank God for normal things. They made her ridiculous life a little easier to deal with.
“Hey, don’t knock the eggs, baby, or you’ll be wearing them on your face.”
“The thing is, Richard, I don’t know if we should impose…”
“She offered,” he said quickly. “I told her I was a pain in the butt, but she says she likes having someone to talk to who isn’t concerned with appearances.”
Calla still wasn’t sure this was a good idea. “You won’t feel awkward?”
“I think what you mean to ask is if you won’t feel awkward? You and Alex break up last night?”
“Not exactly.” She wasn’t about to confess to drinking too much wine.
“Hmm, what did you do, get tipsy and rip his clothes off when he got home?”
Not quite. “No, why would you ask something like that?”
“Because it’s probably what I would have done if I had been in your shoes. And if Alex were a girl. You know what I mean.”
“I did not rip his clothes off.”
“But you had sex, right?”
“No.” She sighed and said, “I passed out.”
Richard laughed and said, “Cut him some slack, Sis. I did the brother-grill-the-boyfriend routine with him and he convinced me.”
“Convinced you of what?”
“Ha. That’s cheating. It’s his thing to tell, not mine,” her brother said with far too much smug in his voice.
“I really don’t want to talk to him again.” For far too many reasons.
“You’re a really bad liar.”
“I’m not…” She stopped and took in a deep breath. “It’s painful to think about talking to him. What he did, it…hurts.”
“There you go, that’s the truth.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Don’t you think it hurt him to realize he was lying even when he didn’t mean to?”
“No one lies by accident.”
“Everyone lies by accident. I do, you do, everyone does. We don’t see it as lying; it’s sparing someone’s feelings or trying to make everyone happy by not creating waves. I get lied to every single day by people who are scared to death of making me feel uncomfortable or inadequate because I’m a quad. The ones who do it for those reasons, I let them slide. The ones who do it because it gives them a sense of power, them I take apart with words until they’re so scrambled up no number of king’s men will ever put them together again.”
“Alex is one of the former. Give him a chance to explain, to tell his side of things. I think you’ll discover no malicious intent, only a man dazed and confused by a beautiful woman.”
He was good. Really good. “You should go into counseling.”
“I’m thinking about it. Really.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been looking into the possibility of taking university courses online.”
“You should.” To hear him talk about the future, create a career that he could flourish in…she struggled with the impulse to cry. “You’d be great at it.” If only he could fix her with his words and compassion. Some wounds had to be healed from within.
“Go after what you want, Sis. Go after the man you want.”
“I’m so scared, Richie. I’m so scared he’s going to let me down. He lied and…” She came to a stop on a sob, her breathing only a hard pant, as if she’d run a marathon and she was on the last mile.
“He’s not perfect. No one is.”
She thought back over the past couple of weeks and all the troubles they’d ended up in. “No, he sure isn’t.”
“Neither are you.”
She forced herself to laugh. “Thanks.” What was she going to do?
“Anytime.”
“I should go. I want to visit a few people today.”
“Maddy said you should stop by later.”
Like that was going to happen. “I’ll try.”
“Awesome. Later gator.” He hung up.
She shook her head. She wished she knew how he maintained his positive outlook. If they could bottle it, they’d be rich.
She changed into jeans and a comfortable shirt, then left the house with her medical kit. Photographers were waiting for her, but for once she didn’t care and ignored them.
The drive to Helen’s House was quick and quiet. The paparazzi followed, but when she stopped and parked, they drove off.
She got out and headed into the building.
Rafael met her at the door to his mother’s room.
“Mom is doing great,” he said with a huge grin. “The pain is much less and she’s staying off her feet.”
“That’s good to hear.” Calla ruffled his hair as they went inside. “How are things at home?”
“Really good.”
Alicia smiled at her and chatted away in Spanish.
“Mom says she’s feeling better. The other doctor is nice, but not as nice as you.”
Calla bit her lip to keep from smiling. “I’m glad he’s taking good care of her. Does she know when she’s going home?”
“Tomorrow, as long as the blood tests are okay.”
“Good.” Calla gave Rafael her card. “This is my personal cell phone. Please call me if you or your mom need me. Okay?”
He took the card and slid it into his pocket. “We will.”
“Thank you.”
“Doc, it’s us who should be thanking you. You’ve done so many good things for us. We owe you.”
“The only thing you owe me is to take care of your mom and to make yourself the best you that you can. Finish school, learn a trade maybe, but do something worthwhile with your life. Give back to people when you have a chance.”
He stuck out his hand and she shook it.
His mother welcomed her with a hug. Calla checked her over and talked about what to expect in the coming days.
She left them, got in her car, and just drove for a while.
She ended up near one of the big theme parks in Anaheim, driving past dozens of hotels.
They were all about the same size, with the same number of rooms. Cookie-cutter accommodations.
She could splurge, get a hotel room for the night, and ignore all the people who were driving her crazy. She needed time and space to get herself together before court on Monday morning.
Jeff MacKay was probably going to get on the stand and pull out his best little boy innocent face to try to send her on one heck of a guilt trip.
That was a destination Calla had no intention of ever visiting again.
It wasn’t even her biggest problem.
Alex was Alicia’s lawyer, so she’d have to face him again. He’d probably be asking her questions on the stand.
How was she going to answer him without bursting into tears?
God only knew what MacKay’s lawyer was going to ask. Knowing MacKay, he’d probably blabbed to the tabloids about how he was innocent and it was all a mistake.
Wait. He would blab to the tabloids.
She pulled out her tablet. In less than a minute she had three articles and two photo galleries of MacKay with expressions varying from sadness to desperation to righteous anger. His comments followed the same path.
He was sympathetic to the woman injured by the car… Saddened by the press hounding her and physician Calla Roberts… Truly impressed with Dr. Roberts’s dedication to her patients… Confused by Dr. Roberts’s restraining order… Angered by lawyer Alex Hardy’s attempt to make him look irresponsible and narcissistic… All would become clear in court on Monday.
She ground her teeth. MacKay was setting the scene for an emotional outburst of some kind. Something sensational that would repair the damage to his image.
But what?
She searched a few more entertainment websites and clicked on a link to an older article featuring some sort of romantic history of A
lex’s involving a woman named Catherine.
Alex’s aunt had mentioned a Catherine, the ex-girlfriend. Calla continued reading. Alex and this Catherine had been engaged, but she broke it off saying he was often cold and unkind. The Hardy family curse—never to find true love—was something she wanted no part of. Poor, poor Alex.
What a bunch of bullshit.
Alex hadn’t scoffed, though. He’d looked hurt for a moment when his aunt talked about the woman. She’d seen that look of hurt again last night when he tried to apologize, but she wouldn’t let him.
He couldn’t believe the bullshit. Could he?
He was smart, strong, handsome, interesting, compassionate…she smacked her forehead. He did believe it.
And now Jeff MacKay was going to try to seal the deal with some sob story in front of a judge. As angry as she was at Alex for lying, she wasn’t going to let MacKay continue with his smear campaign.
Grrrr.
Calla called her brother. “Hey.”
“Hey you,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Are you alone? Can we video chat? I need to bounce some ideas off you.”
“Sure, I’ll tell Maddy I need a few minutes. Call me back in ten.”
“Okay.”
While she waited, she read a few more articles, but they were much the same as the others. By the time she called Richard back, she was good and mad.
“What’s up, Sis?” Richard asked. His voice had a happy chirp to it.
“Alex, Jeff MacKay, some woman named Catherine, and that stupid curse.”
Richard’s eyes got wide. “That’s quite the list.”
“I can’t decide how I’m supposed to feel about any of it.”
He barked out a laugh. “You can feel any way you want.” He sounded so sure, no doubts at all.
All she had were doubts. “I should’ve never come to Los Angeles,” she said on a sigh. “I should’ve taken on a second job in Chicago. This place is…crazy.”
“So, why did you go to LA in the first place?”
“More money, which was supposed to give me more time to donate my skills. It was supposed to be a fresh start for me. A place to build a new life…” Her voice trailed off into nothing.
“Isn’t it still all those things?”
“Not for the past couple of weeks or so.”
“Hmm.” Richard looked thoughtful. “What changed a week ago?”