Portia’s jaw ticked. “Do you care what others think of you?”
“No. I’m too busy studying you. Would you like to come over to my house and see my Portia Francis collection? I’ve got the Princess in the Suburbs lunchbox and the Princess in the Suburbs board game. I never play with the special edition Barbie from the show. Someday that box will go into a museum unopened.”
Portia lowered her chin and shot Blue a look that could have killed in the nanosecond if she’d had lasers for eyes. Then she blinked and was back to smiling and talking with Harry. “If I quit acting would you still find me interesting?”
“Oh, my God! You’re going to quit acting?” His eyes widened in panic. “So what if your last eight projects got bad reviews? Your fans will always love you. Don’t give up acting. What will I do if you quit and move back to Hoboken?”
“It was so nice meeting you, Harry. I’ll have my assistant send you over some autographed photos.”
Harry immediately calmed. “And, if it’s not too much trouble, a Princess keychain?”
“We’ll see.” When he left, Portia turned on Blue. “You do know I have a restraining order against Harry?”
“Harry didn’t mention it.” Blue knew. Maddy could tell by the tension in his jaw. He hated making people suffer. He thought of his father – and now himself – as a master of torture. He didn’t realize that spoiled, pampered celebs needed extremes to choose change. This was nothing compared to his father putting him in a coffin. And after the cruel things the Avengers had done to him, Maddy had little sympathy.
“He wouldn’t. He’s a bit insane.”
“Then you probably shouldn’t pick him for your lunch date. He seemed disappointed in your new hairstyle.” Blue’s smile was positively feral. Maddy supposed continuous harassment would do that to a man.
Portia opened her mouth, looked at the cameras, and snapped it shut.
Cora ushered Lon Gleason into the dining room. Lon had been Portia’s co-star on Princess in the Suburbs. They did the whole air-kiss thing.
“Portia, you look fabulous. Love your hair, darling.”
“Lon, I didn’t realize they’d released you from rehab.” Portia showed real warmth. Her smile was soft. Her body language relaxed.
Lon looked like he’d been released from rehab a week too soon. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks hollow. “I decided I wanted outpatient treatment. If I can put on a few pounds, I might land a job. Can’t live on Princess syndication royalties forever.” He gave her a half-smile.
“I’m glad things are looking up. By the way…” Portia slid Blue a sharp glance. “Do you want to have children someday?”
He considered her more closely. “Are you looking for a baby daddy? Because I gotta tell you, I can’t handle any more responsibility. I can barely be responsible for me. When the attention from our show went away, I kind-of fell apart. But I guess you knew that.” He smiled meekly. “Not that you have to worry about making it on your own. You always have everything under control.”
Portia’s smile tightened. “Do you care what others think of you?”
“Do I?” Lon looked around the room. “Is this some kind of intervention? Because it’s starting to sound an awful lot like therapy. You aren’t supposed to care what people think of you, Portia. They try to teach you that in rehab, but it’s easy for a counselor to say that when he’ll never see his picture in People with a caption that reads: Hollywood Shuns Lon Gleason.” Lon thrust a hand into his dirty blond hair. “But that’ll never happen to you, doll. Because everyone loves you, every second of every day. You’re fuckin’ perfect.”
Portia frowned. “Have you been drinking?”
“Not today.” He shifted in his chair. “But all this talk about futures and shit is making me feel the urge.”
“Don’t you dare,” Portia told him. “I won’t allow it.”
“You won’t…” He shook his head like a dog shaking off water. “Am I being punked?”
“No! Shut up and let me finish.” Portia glanced at the ceiling, drew a breath and then spoke in her eloquent voice. “If I quit acting would you still find me interesting?”
“Shit. Maybe I should’ve taken something today. You’re tripping me out.” He ran his hands through his hair again. “You can’t quit acting, Portia. Everyone loves you. Don’t waste that.”
“They don’t,” Portia said stonily. “The critics hate me. No studio wants to work with me. No producers either.”
Lon blinked. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” Chin up, she assembled her smile. “You know what? I want you to stay with me for a few weeks. We used to be friends and we did some of our best work together. Maybe our agents can come up with something for us to do as a team. But the deal is off if you drink.”
“Slow down,” Lon said. “Are you asking me to – ”
“We’re not going to have sex. You can have a bedroom downstairs. We’ll talk about old times and maybe go to a few acting classes like we used to do when we were kids. I’ll cook. You’ll eat.”
“That sounds…” Lon swallowed thickly. “Good.”
“Now go.”
And he did.
Portia stared at her hands, clearly suffering. “I hate everyone with the last name of Rule.”
Maddy didn’t dare look at Blue, because this was great, but he wouldn’t see it that way.
Chapter 30
The president of the fan club had been a mistake. Bringing in the actor who used to play her brother on television wasn’t earning Blue any points toward relationship-fixing, although it had shown that Portia actually had a heart. It came down to his last bachelor for Portia.
Xavier Sentata was an up and coming pro golfer who looked like he was ready to ascend Tiger Woods’ throne – tall, suavely handsome with one heck of a golf swing. Blue only hoped that Xavier wasn’t interested in filling a stable with female admirers.
Xavier stepped into the dining room under the admiring gaze of Cora, wearing khaki slacks and a black, Nike polo shirt. Portia’s eyes did a quick stroke of appreciation as Xavier introduced himself.
The fact that Maddy wasn’t immune to Xavier’s good looks didn’t escape Blue either. Her jaw hung open. He reached over and gently pushed her chin up.
She looked at Blue and mouthed, “Wow,” earning a scowl.
“I am happy to meet such a beautiful and talented woman,” Xavier said in his softly accented voice.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Portia’s smile actually reached her eyes.
“I am only in town for two days before I must be in the Emirates for a golf tournament, but when I was asked to come today, I knew I could not pass up the chance to meet the star of the Princess show.”
Points to Xavier.
“You know I have to ask you questions and…” Portia laughed self-consciously. “I didn’t come up with these questions.”
“I understand.” His smile was brilliant. In a smile-off, it was unclear who would win – Portia or Xavier.
“Do you want to have children someday?”
“Yes. I come from a large family in Argentina. Six children. All girls, but me.” He smiled again and Blue had a feeling he knew where Xavier had gotten so good with women. “My sisters, they love you.”
Portia fanned herself with the index card. “It must be hard to go on tour and play every day under the glare of the cameras. Do you care what others think of you?”
“It is very hard to avoid the voice of those who think their opinion matters. For example, a few weeks ago I had trouble at the fifteenth hole. The press won’t let it die. They ask me at every opportunity what I thought of my performance.”
“So what do you do?”
“I know I could have done better. I try to think of the future, to learn from my mistakes.” He shrugged. “It’s part of the job that the media have their shots at me. But I won’t let that end my dreams.”
Portia considered his words before asking, “If I quit acting,
would you still find me interesting?”
The golfer’s smile was smoothly charming. “Today you are an actress. Being an actress is only a part of who you are, as being a golfer is only part of who I am. I’d like to get to know you to discover how interesting we are to each other.”
The smile-a-thon continued.
“One last thing.” Portia put the card down. “Would you like to have lunch with me today?”
“I’d be honored.”
Viv had texted Jack that she was outside Javier’s restaurant, and that she’d had an argument with Blue. She’d become such a liar. She waited just beyond the front door, anticipating Jack driving up in a roar of engine and testosterone.
A small, wiry man in an argyle sweater approached her. “Vivian Gordon. I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Lyle, how are you?” She hadn’t recognized him when he’d driven up to the valet. Her vision had been fogged over with lust. She had to wait another eight minutes for Jack. Eleven if there was traffic. She air kissed Lyle’s cheeks.
“Are you waiting for someone to go in or go out? I only ask because I’d like to know if I should hold the door for you.” Lyle’s smile didn’t fool Viv. Any question the gossip columnist asked was a risk. She occasionally fed him information, mostly to help Jack’s image.
Viv glanced inside and saw Blue talking to that woman who carried a camera everywhere. She couldn’t keep a note of annoyance from her voice. Where was Jack? “I’m leaving.”
“Might I ask…were you here with Blue Rule?”
Vivian blinked back the haze of desire that addled her brain. “Blue?” She laughed self-consciously. What if Jack found out she wasn’t really seeing Blue? If Lyle saw Jack drive up, he’d ruin everything. The man couldn’t be bought. And she’d tried.
Vivian chose to throw Blue under the bus. “I was with Blue, but…” She leaned in conspiratorially, hoping for damage control that didn’t actually damage anyone more than they’d already been damaged. “I know you’ve heard he’s disappointing, but I’m fickle and I keep giving him another chance.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “We tried a public quickie. Tried.” She’d apologize to Blue someday. She amped up her smile. “I hope you enjoy lunch. The hummus nachos are fabulous.”
And then Vivian opened the door for Lyle and hustled him in with a hand on his back. Lyle looked back at her once, but she turned away and walked to the curb as if impatient for the valet to bring her car.
The roar of a big, powerful engine cut through the air.
Viv forgot about Blue and Lyle and impending divorces. She waved down Jack and sped off to good sex and hope.
In no time, Larry cleared out. Maddy trailed behind him.
Compulsively, Blue caught her hand. She startled at his touch, but allowed him to pull her aside. They stared at each other for an awkward moment. He wanted to tug her into his arms and kiss her. He wanted to ask her out on a date.
Instead, he asked, “Is it good?” He dropped his gaze to her hand, nestled in his.
“It is. And you’re fantastic.” She sighed. “I know it’s tough for you, but this isn’t just some Hollywood stunt. You’re helping them.” She tried to slip her hand free.
He clung to her fingers, refusing to acknowledge desperation. Pride kept his gaze on her hand. Those videos… “And what about you?”
“Me?” Her voice cracked. She patted his arm and yanked her hand free. “I’ll be fine. You made sure of that.”
Unsure what she meant, he sought out her gaze, but it was too late. She was headed for the door and Lyle Lincoln.
“Are you nervous about today?” Cora asked the next morning as they sat in Blue’s office, two empty dog carriers near the wall. “Confronting Kaya is going to be your biggest challenge yet. Other than letting Maddy go.”
“Cora, can you give it a rest? She dumped me.” He rubbed a hand over his face, refusing to acknowledge Cora’s shocked reaction, just as he chose to ignore the texts and phone messages from Winnie and Ulani. They wanted to talk. Blue wanted to make things right with the Avengers before he apologized. “Kaya’s not going to be as cooperative as Jenny or Portia.”
“Kaya’s a bitch queen, but I kind of admire her for that.” Cora twisted her hair into a makeshift ponytail, like she used to do when they were kids. “She knows what she wants and she’s unapologetically ruthless in going after it.”
“Even if she wants it for all the wrong reasons.” Blue considered his sister. “You’ve mellowed recently. What happened to you?”
“I’ve lost all my friends…So I’ve been sketching. It’s…calming.” She looked extremely vulnerable admitting that. “I know that sounds lame. Don’t make fun of me.”
“I stopped making fun of you when I was fifteen.” Imagining her sketching gardens, Blue kept his gaze averted from Dooley’s drawing sitting behind Cora. “Have you always sketched?”
“Daddy taught me a long time ago. I haven’t had time to draw much since I graduated from the Fashion Institute. I was always too busy trying to impress people with the way I wore their designs.” She shrugged. “Now I draw clothes I’d like to create.”
“So you don’t draw flowers and trees?”
“Like Daddy? No.” She fidgeted. “Would you like to see?”
He nodded.
It didn’t take long for Cora to return from her office with a sketch pad. She’d obviously inherited her talent from Dooley. Blue could actually tell they were people she was drawing and get an idea of how the clothes were supposed to look. He murmured something positive.
“You don’t like them,” she said, reaching for the pad.
He held it back. “They’re better than I expected, but the drawings don’t seem to fit you.”
“Oh.” She looked crestfallen.
“Look at yourself. You’re sleek and elegant, with splashes of color. These are conservative and gray. Very gray.” Probably because she was feeling low after losing her bitchy Avenger friends. Blue could relate, having let Maddy go.
“Oh.” She brightened. “That’s insightful.”
“Glad I could help. Now, I have to get back to thinking about Kaya.” What he really had to do was get over to Dooley’s house and look at all the pictures again. Maybe something would click if he studied the pictures rather than his list – a memory, an idea, something to shake Kaya up.
“Of course you do.” She said it as if she was disappointed that the universe didn’t revolve around her and her brother didn’t have all the time in the world to look at the sketches she’d made.
“Wait.” Maybe Cora could help him. Her name had been on several of Dooley’s pictures at the house, mostly with wilted flowers, including one labeled Ego. “Do you remember that time Dad showed you film he’d shot of you at Amber’s birthday party?” Their dad had caught Cora saying nasty things about Amber. Cora didn’t have much of a filter back then. Or now for that matter.
“The time he tried to humiliate me into feeling bad about trash-talking Amber?”
“Yes. Why didn’t you stop picking on Amber when you saw that?” It had made Blue squirm and he hadn’t said near as much crap as Cora had.
“Because he pissed me off. Do you know when I stopped letting him push me around?”
Blue shook his head.
“When I told him that I was always going to be a bitch.” Her voice became a lament. “It’s like realizing you’re left handed. You can’t change, so why try?”
“That’s bullshit.”
“It’s not. I keep telling you. People instinctively like you and Amber. Me, not so much. I’ve come to peace with it.” Her tone lacked its normal punch.
He handed her the sketch pad. But her realization had sparked an idea for Kaya’s relationship coaching, and distracted Blue enough that he didn’t realize she’d walked out of his office until his phone rang.
www.PlayboyAvengers.com
Our Latest Revenge
When our man helped make a dying teen’s wish come true, there was
more involved than just donning superhero tights.
(link to YouTube video)
Chapter 31
“What the – ” Blue clicked on the link on the Avengers’ website.
Him in Flash tights. A dying teen’s punching bag.
There were only two people in the universe who could have given the Avengers the video – Dave or Maddy. Dave didn’t have access to the other videos. The weight of suspicion bowed Blue’s shoulders. He drew a long, painful breath.
She’d betrayed him.
It wasn’t as if she was the first woman who’d taken measures to destroy him.
But Maddy?
She’d made him the world’s punching bag.
Blue called Franklin to see what his legal options were.
Minutes later, Maddy came in, lugging her camera equipment and looking innocent, as usual.
Cora followed on Maddy’s heels, dodging dogs at her feet. “Don’t say it, Blue. You’ll regret it.”
But it was too late. He could no longer believe Maddy hadn’t turned Avenger. “I trusted you, Maddy. I trusted you and this is how you treat me?” He rose to his feet, gripping the desk to keep from reaching for her.
Maddy was calm, calmer than he would have been had their situations been reversed. Another indication of her guilt. If he couldn’t rely on his instincts toward Maddy – toward women – he was screwed as a relationship coach. Hell, he was screwed, period.
Maddy set her cases of equipment down. Her brown gaze met his squarely. “You’re back to thinking I gave the Avengers the video?”
One time, he could excuse.
Two times made him wonder.
But a third time? He could no longer ignore the signs.
His dick didn’t want to believe it. His heart was crying foul. “Yes, I think you gave Dave’s video to them.”
Maddy looked taken aback.
Cora scooped Brutus into her arms. “Blue – ”
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