Instead, he gave her the space she wanted. For the moment. “Okay, let’s talk about which women to choose.”
“As producer, that’s my decision and I’ve chosen.”
“This is Hollywood. The talent usually has some say.” He stared her down. “You do agree that I have talent.”
Her cheeks flamed. She hurried across the office to close the door, not noticing that he’d followed her. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I have to maintain a working relationship with you, because – ” She turned and nearly bumped into him.
He pulled her into his arms, kissing away her brief objections. Only when she sighed and snuggled closer did he release her.
“After the morning I had, that’s all I wanted.” That dreamy smile of hers directed at him after a deep kiss. “Now, who did you pick?” He stepped back and read her board. His good mood evaporated. “Not Kaya. She’s dangerous.”
The dream was over. Maddy crossed her arms. “She’s dangerously good television.”
“At my expense,” he said. “Portia I understand. She brings in viewers. But Jenny?”
“She’s sexy as hell and preciously naïve.”
Cora knocked and opened the door without waiting for permission – definitely not a habit he wanted her to keep given he had plans for Maddy in his office. She carried Brutus, who growled at everyone.
Cora summed up the situation almost immediately. “Bro, don’t you watch TV? You’ll need more than one crazy woman for the pilot.” Cora claimed Blue’s chair, putting Brutus on the floor. “I agree with Maddy. You’ll need the perfect train wreck trifecta: Jenny, Portia and Kaya.”
The little black menace trotted over to Mr. Jiggles, who was curled up on his bed. A couple of suspicious sniffs had Blue scooping up trouble and handing it back to Cora.
“Control your beast.” Blue scowled at his sister. “Aren’t you both forgetting something?”
They stared at him.
“None of this will work if I can’t find them their perfect mates.”
“You’re aiming too high.” Maddy rested against his desk, a lock of hair swinging onto her cheek. “Nobody expects The Bachelor to marry the woman he gives the rose to, and they’ve been on the air for years. Viewers are hopeful. They watch to see people struggle with the same challenges they do, or far out challenges they’ve only heard about.”
“I get it.” Cora ignored Brutus’ growls and stroked him. “It’s more than matchmaking. It’s personal growth.”
Which would require the Rules. Shit. He was so screwed. It wasn’t like he could give each of his exes little dogs and hope they’d learn something about romantic relationships. How had his father done it? He started to sweat.
“Exactly,” Maddy was saying. “Let’s start with Jenny. You said she was too much into her trust fund and having fun. How do we make her grow up?”
“Take away her money.” Cora fiddled with Brutus’ collar. “Speaking as the voice of experience, that seems to exterminate the fun out of trust fund babies.”
“We can’t take her money away,” Blue said.
“But we can put her in a situation where she sees an alternative future without wealth,” Maddy pointed out, a speculative gleam in her eye.
Blue wished it was yesterday, pre-billboard and she was looking at him speculatively. “What have you got in mind?”
“Have her spend a day with someone who had it all and lost it all. Have you ever heard of the Actor’s Guild Retirement Home?”
“An old folks’ sob story won’t work on its own.” Cora shook her head. “You’ve got to take away all her accoutrements in addition to her line of credit.”
“Meaning?” Damn it. Blue had a feeling Cora and Maddy were onto something. And if they laid a foundation, he’d have to come through with some coaching.
“Put Jenny in Kmart fashion,” Cora said. “Make her drive over there in a car without a working air conditioner. Make her agree that for every transgression she makes in the day’s rules that she’ll have one more day spent in hell.”
“And what exactly is hell?”
Cora looked down at her clothes. “This place.”
“Your sister scares me. And when did she get a dog?” Maddy rambled nervously after Cora returned to her office, leaving her and Blue alone. Leaving Maddy ninety-nine percent sure she’d made a mistake sleeping with him. “I need to collect some post-introduction footage of Professor Quinby. Do you want to come?”
“Provocative invitations like that just drive me crazy.”
“As business associates, Blue.” Just looking at him brought back vivid images of his body naked and that treacherous feeling of home. Her heart sprinted hopefully toward the possibility of another night. Her mind could do nothing to stop it.
“I’ll go if you agree to come out with me tonight.” Blue’s smile was unrepentant.
That was so not happening. “I’m waitressing.” She gathered her things. “You’ll be the talk of the town today. Go out and be a man of mystery.”
“The mystery is why you won’t have dinner with me.” Blue came around the desk. “You should quit that waitressing job.”
She eyed him warily. “I can’t quit until we go into full production. These deals fall apart all the time.” Just saying it made her nervous.
Blue stopped, brightening. “You’re right.”
Maddy got a bad vibe, an I’m-about-to-get-another-dagger-in-the-back vibe. Apprehension threatened to crack her words. “Don’t do this to me, Blue.”
“What?”
“You can dump me, but don’t dump my project.”
“I’m not dumping you.” Blue said nothing about the show. He closed the distance between them and kissed her softly on the forehead. “It makes me feel better to know you’re here for me.”
“Why do I doubt that?”
Blue took something out of his pocket, palmed it, and then pressed it into her hand. “Here’s proof.”
“A USB data stick?”
“It’s all of Dave’s film. I’m giving it to you for safe keeping.”
Ever since the gossip guru, Lyle Lincoln, had flashed her a picture of Blue in tights, she’d wanted that film. And yet… “Are you giving it to me to use on this project?”
He blanched. “I’m giving it to you because I trust you.”
“You think I need proof?” That sucked.
“Yes. Because of who I am and because of who you are.”
“Lovers are supposed to trust each other, or they wouldn’t be lovers. I can’t take this as the woman you slept with last night.” She congratulated herself on her use of the past tense. “But…you could give this to your reality show producer.”
Blue looked like his James Bond car had been sideswiped.
She walked out of his office before he could say anything more.
And then she did the craziest thing. She gave the USB to Gemma and told her to lock it up. There was only so much temptation a reality show producer could resist.
She was still ruing the fact that she hadn’t so much as peeked at the film when she showed up at work later.
“I saw your car here the other night, Maddy,” Paul said. “Any tequila regrets?”
“For a bartender, Paul, you’re awfully naïve.” Maddy tied on her apron. “Tequila comes with regrets. It’s in their product guarantee.”
Paul grinned. “I bet he shows up again tonight.”
“He won’t.” Because they were back in platonic territory.
A man with romantic intentions gave a woman flowers, not film of him in tights.
Chapter 24
“Tell me again why we’re meeting?” Blue said as he sat down to dinner with Vivian Gordon at a white-tablecloth restaurant in Beverly Hills. The night of the Freedom Transformation, she’d tried to slam his fingers in her car door. And now she wanted to talk?
And yet, since Blue wanted her husband’s billings, he decided dinner with Vivian was a good idea.
“The other ni
ght I got the impression that my husband arranged for you and I to...” Vivian had the sleek and slender beauty of Hollywood. Salad-fed thin. Perfectly dressed and accessorized. Tactful highlights in her blond hair. And a look he couldn’t fathom.
“Your husband wants you to be happy.” Blue glanced around for a waiter. He had a feeling he was going to need a drink.
Instead his gaze landed on Kaya and Jenny. They lifted their glasses in a mock salute. Kaya’s red-tipped hair didn’t move when she laughed. Jenny leaned too far forward so that her boobs almost fell out of her sundress. They were as out of place in the muted, staid restaurant as a girl scout on the sidewalk in front of the halfway house he’d visited with Dave.
How in the hell…
Cora.
He was going to wring his sister’s skinny neck.
He sent her a text: How did you know where I was going?
A few other patrons leaned in to whisper conspiratorially and glance in his direction. Thanks to the billboard, his face was immediately recognizable. Humiliation layered with frustration. He couldn’t do anything other than stay the course with Maddy, which was starting to feel like madness.
It is what it is, his father used to say.
Fat lot of advice that was. Where was the silver lining?
Vivian studied the dinner menu, glancing furtively about the room. “I like this place. It’s out of the way. I doubt we’ll see anyone we know.”
“Wanna bet,” Blue murmured, flagging down a tuxedoed waiter. “Vodka on the rocks. Double.”
“A glass of Zinfandel.” And then Vivian’s gaze locked over the top of her menu.
Blue started to turn to see who had captured her attention, bumping Mr. Jiggle’s carrier with his foot.
“Don’t.” Vivian grabbed Blue’s hand with her cold one before he could turn completely.
“What is it?” Had the Avengers decorated something with their trademark thongs? The hair on the back of his neck stretched toward the ceiling.
“It’s…Jack. My husband.”
“Holy crap. Does he know we’re here? I don’t want to be seen having dinner with you. He’ll think we’re sleeping together. Lots of people will think we’re sleeping together.” Like Kaya and Jenny. They’d posted a public warning to a woman. What if they had some kind of revenge planned for Vivian? How would he explain shaving cream and a pink thong being placed on Jack Gordon’s wife’s car?
Vivian’s smile was bedroom-friendly, the opposite of her icy touch on his hand. “I want Jack to think we’re doing whatever he asked you to do with me.”
“Whoa. Whatever he told you, I refused.”
Her smile flattened.
“That came out wrong. I mean, he wanted me to give you relationship counseling and then introduce you around.” Unfortunately, his being with her meant the Avengers knew who she was. He pushed back his chair. “You were right the other night. It’d be better for everyone if I just walked out.”
“No. Please.” Vivian clenched Blue’s hand tighter. “I’ll pay you. Double whatever Jack is paying you.” She drew her hand back as the waiter delivered their drinks, waiting to continue until they were alone. “Jack is under the impression that you get me to that happy place, like you did the other night. Only Jack thinks you’re not very good at it.”
“Holy Mother of God.” Blue glanced toward the ever vigilant Avengers and lowered his voice. “Don’t you dare say another word. Lyle Lincoln and the Avengers have ears everywhere.”
“I know about your fan club. I saw it in the L.A. Happenings column this morning.” Vivian smiled at him indulgently. “That’s what makes this so perfect. My husband doesn’t want me to get hurt.”
The unmasking of Blue as the Avenger’s playboy had kept his phone and the main Dooley Foundation lines ringing off the hook. In fact, Blue had silenced his phone upon entering the restaurant. Half the women who called wanted to reform him by receiving his personal coaching – very personal coaching. The other half wanted to chew him out for his insensitivity toward women. And the men? They wanted to know his secret. His appointment book was full, organized around Maddy’s scheduled shoots. If he only knew what he was going to say to his new clients.
“Is Jack happy about you and I doing whatever it is I’m screwing up?” Blue took an unhealthy swig of vodka.
Vivian blushed. “It…um…turns Jack on…to think I’m left unsatisfied.”
It didn’t matter that it was untrue. The amount of bent truths and outright lies friends, family, and exes had told about him over the course of his lifetime had grown higher than Jack’s beanstalk. When Maddy’s work aired – if Maddy’s work aired – the truth would chop up the last of his reputation into tiny pieces that no one would respect. The truth being he had no idea how to be a relationship counselor and didn’t know the secret of his father’s Rules of Attraction. He could only bluff for so long.
Blue downed his drink, then lifted his empty glass in an attempt to get the waiter’s attention. “I’ll have to move to New York.” Where no one knew him. “You do realize Jack wants to divorce you.” So much for tact.
“He thinks he does.” She batted her eyelashes and rolled her shoulders in a way that suggested she wanted him to open negotiations to a bedroom encounter – totally at odds with the words coming out of her slick lips. “But Jack only wants to divorce me because I left him. And I only left him because he ignored me while he started that basketball team. I wounded his ego. In another month, he’ll be shredding those divorce documents.”
“He’ll be shredding me.” Blue could feel his client’s jealous stare lasering a hole in his back.
She tugged his hand closer, pressed a kiss on it. “Don’t worry. He won’t hurt you.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I saw a video of my sister’s husband and Jack exchanging punches after a game. Your husband could have been a contender.”
“I’ll guarantee your…safety.” Vivian suddenly seemed distracted. “If you’ll excuse me.” She stood, smoothing her black mini skirt before doing a leisurely cat-walk strut toward the restrooms that had every man in the room watching her.
Every man except Jack, who was five steps ahead of her.
When Vivian reached the corridor, Jack turned and grabbed her, kissing her desperately. They spun against the wall once, twice, and then again further down the hall and out of sight.
Shit. If he left, Jack might be angry that he’d stood Vivian up. If he stayed, Jack might be angry that he was sitting here waiting for Jack to finish satisfying his wife. He made a mental note to send Vivian a very large bill.
Kaya and Jenny laughed. Jenny made a bump and grind motion with her hips.
He had no choice but to stay. Otherwise, when Vivian came out she’d be an easy target.
He restored the sound on his phone. In a text, Cora denied telling Kaya where he was. If he believed her – which he almost did – he was either being followed, or he had another leak. Gemma? Vivian? Maddy?
What was he thinking giving Maddy that film?
Shit-shit-shit.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. The restaurant was like hell’s furnace. His life used to be so simple. He protected people’s images, flying under the radar. He was part of a celebrity’s circle of trust. Now, he had no circle – no one to round the proverbial wagons to protect him.
And then Maddy’s voice came to him, a lover’s whisper in his ear: I’m the only one with your best interests at heart.
She wasn’t like the others. She wouldn’t betray him.
Blue’s second drink arrived, iced and sweating. He nursed it this time, chasing bread with vodka.
Ten minutes later when Vivian still didn’t show, Blue ordered an appetizer and a third vodka. This was unlike any bathroom stall quickie Blue had ever experienced or heard of. Public sex wasn’t supposed to take this long.
Kaya and Jenny were drinking and laughing, getting louder. And then they approached his table.
“She wasn’t impressed, Blue.” J
enny curled a lock of long blond hair so it trailed into her cleavage.
“No big loss. She’s too classy for any under-the-table action.” Kaya fingered the white tablecloth. “Want some company?”
“No, thanks. She’ll be back.”
“And so will we,” Kaya promised. “That car of yours is hard to lose.”
The pair left the restaurant.
Blue drank Vivian’s wine.
Thirty minutes later Blue realized he’d been dumped. He paid the bill and made for the Beverly Hills Hotel. And Maddy.
Along the way, his phone started ringing, but it was Jack Gordon and there was no way Blue was taking that call.
At the hotel, Blue turned over the keys to the valet along with a fifty dollar bill. “Make sure no geese get inside tonight, will you?” And then he stopped in the lobby to make sure Kaya wasn’t following him, and listened to Jack’s message.
“Blue, are you fucking kidding me? I asked you to do me one little favor. One. Find Vivian a man. You aren’t man enough for her. Find her another man. I’m fucking dying here.”
If he hadn’t seen Jack turn and reach for his wife with a look that said he was about to combust if he didn’t have her, Blue would’ve felt like crap. As it was, Vivian was now on his Do Not Call list.
Shouldering Mr. J’s carrier, Blue entered the bar and paused, looking for Maddy and checking out the night’s patrons. Musicians, he decided. Long hair, tattoos, singing along to the piped-in music. Heads started to turn his way. People started to talk. He headed for the bar this time. Maddy was in the corner of the room taking an order.
Unlike Vivian, she’d never spread rumors about his manhood. Nor would she stalk him if things between them didn’t work out.
Except…who was Maddy serving, but Lyle Lincoln, L.A.’s gossip master.
Paranoia and too much alcohol yanked his nerves like a cramped, overworked muscle.
“Two side cars, a house Chardonnay and a dirty martini.” She stood next to Blue as she placed her order. “You shouldn’t be here.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
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