“Aren’t you sweet?”
“Watch out she doesn’t poison you,” Lysander whispered.
Mollie chuckled, but Jean-Paul’s rapturous discussion of Corin’s latest film at least kept her quiet on the journey. Corin had no idea Lysander had asked Jean-Paul to look her up on Google.
Lysander gave Aden the tickets and Mollie grew more and more excited. This wasn’t the lifestyle she’d like to have, but it was fun to experience every now and again. The guys looked so gorgeous, and every time she glanced at them, she felt her heart jump.
When the limo stopped, Ryker leaned forward. “Let Corin and Flint go ahead on the carpet. You four linger behind until they’re in the building. Be careful what you say to the press. You’re close friends from way back. Okay?”
The crowd exploded with cheers as Flint and Corin headed up the red carpet. Mollie huddled closer to Lysander, blinking in the barrage of flashes from cameras. He tucked her arm through his and walked forward. Mollie could hear people shouting to Flint, asking him to sign autographs. Flint was trying to hurry Corin but she was lingering, answering questions and smiling for photographs. Flint cast them a look of distress and Mollie squeezed Lysander’s arm.
“Help him,” she said.
Lysander walked straight up to Flint and shook his hand as if they’d only just met. He slung his arm over Flint’s shoulder and steadily edged him nearer to the entrance. Behind Mollie, Jean-Paul was hamming it up to the crowd, Aden watching him with a smile on his face. Mollie hung back with them. When Lysander suddenly moved away from Flint and headed toward the barrier, Mollie wondered what he was doing. Then she saw who he was talking to and her heart slumped onto her stomach. Lewin.
She walked more quickly toward the entrance to the cinema but as she reached Flint, she spotted a TV cameraman and Carole Jennings, a presenter from a breakfast show, advancing on him.
Carole pushed the microphone in his face. “You’ve been conspicuous by your absence since you returned from filming in Croatia. Any truth in the rumors?”
Flint rubbed his throat. Mollie stepped forward to tell her Flint had a throat infection but didn’t make it. She tripped, or rather she was tripped, and sprawled headlong. Lysander was the one who helped her to her feet. He put his arm around her and hugged her.
“Oh God, oh God,” she muttered into his jacket.
“It’s okay.” He pressed his face against her head.
“Is Flint safe?”
“He’s inside. He’ll be all right. Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“Come on then. Smile.”
“That was Lewin, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Oh God.”
“He isn’t going to help you. I will. Now put a smile on your face, laugh and walk inside with me.”
Mollie wasn’t sure how she managed it because she didn’t take another breath until Lysander leaned her against a pillar in the lobby and kissed her.
“Corin tripped me deliberately,” Mollie blurted.
“The little bitch. Want me to trip her?”
“Maybe I could tip a drink on her. Is there a drink anywhere? A nice bright red one?”
Lysander laughed but Mollie wasn’t joking.
“Flint’s okay. He’s with Ryker.”
“I cocked up.” She sighed. “I used my credit card to buy this dress. I told the girl I was going to a premiere.”
“It doesn’t have to be that. I thought Lewin had probably recognized Flint. All he had to do was Google and discover there was a premiere tonight. At least he doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong with him.”
“Can I have your phone? I want to call his brother.”
“I think you should call the police.”
Mollie sagged. “Not now. I don’t want to spoil Flint’s night.”
Aden and Jean-Paul came up to them.
“I’m never doing this again,” Aden said. “He’s going to be insufferable. Someone just thought he was a model for Calvin Klein.”
Jean-Paul tsked. “I wish I’d had business cards with my photo on. I could have…networked.”
“We need to keep an eye on Mollie,” Lysander said. “Her ex is here. Not inside, but he’s a cop. He might figure out a way to get in. She’s not to be left alone.”
“Did you see me face plant on the carpet?” Mollie said.
“No.” Jean-Paul wrapped her arms around her and hugged her.
“Flint’s beckoning,” Lysander said. “Come on.”
Flint pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “You okay? Saw it.”
“Yes. Sshh.”
Mollie felt much happier when they were in the theater and sitting down. She was next to Flint with Jean-Paul and Aden at her side. Lysander sat on Flint’s other side with Corin next to him then Ryker. Corin looked furious. Tough. The lights went down and Mollie took hold of Flint’s hand and squeezed his fingers.
* * * *
One hundred and ninety-three minutes later, Mollie was sobbing, so were Jean-Paul and several others. The audience was clapping wildly. From the moment Edge had started, Mollie had been on the edge of her seat. What a perfect name for the film. It was a fast-paced thriller about a guy who kidnapped a woman and a baby. Until the end, he didn’t reveal why he’d done it and the guy she’d thought was a cold-hearted psychopath turned out to be not the real bad guy at all. But he’d died to save the woman and child, and when she’d watched Flint die, her heart had swollen so much she couldn’t breathe.
Flint stood and pulled her to her feet. People were lining up to shake his hand and tell him how much they’d enjoyed the film. Mollie knew she must look a blubbery mess, and after making sure Lysander was at Flint’s side, she made her way to the bathroom, with Jean-Paul in pursuit.
“Oh God, that was good,” he gulped. “He is seriously hot.”
Mollie scrunched the remains of her wet tissue in her hand. “He was really good. So many emotions on his face without him saying a word.”
“Go to the loo. I’ll wait here. Mind you, I need to go. Don’t move when you come out, okay?”
Mollie nodded.
Chapter Twenty-Three
There was such a huge line in the ladies’ that Mollie came back out again. There had to be another bathroom somewhere. She’d be back in a jiffy. An usher pointed her in the right direction and she sighed with relief when she went in to find no line at all.
But when she emerged, Lewin stood leaning against the wall opposite, a security pass hanging around his neck.
“Hello, Mollie.”
Everything around her disappeared—the walls, floor, people. Only Lewin remained, feet away. He stared at her and all she could do was stare back, as if there was some force connecting them.
“You need to leave,” she said.
“Not without you.”
Reality returned then and she shivered at the awareness she was in an isolated part of the theater.
“Lewin, we’re done. Please leave.” She stepped away but he was quicker. The damn heels made it impossible to run. He caught her arm and dug his fingers in hard.
“I’ll scream,” she said.
She should have just done it because his hand flattened over her mouth and he pulled her tight against him.
“I only want to talk to you. You owe me that.”
She tried to relax in his hold and nodded. He took his hand off her mouth but kept her in his arms. Her arm hung against his side and she could feel something long and hard in his pocket. A knife?
“You walked out without a word,” he said, his voice so calm and empty it frightened her more than if he’d shouted. She wanted him to shout, then people would come.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me go,” she whispered.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Molls. I don’t fucking want you now, but no one walks out on me. You made me a laughing stock.”
Hell. Was that what this was about? “Tell your friends you dumped me. Tell them I begged you to have me back b
ut you wouldn’t.” Her heart was hammering. Where was everyone?
When he let her go, she gasped in shock. He had his phone out when she turned to face him. “Picture? For old time’s sake? You look like a whore by the way. No fucking underwear.”
She exhaled shakily.
“Ask me then?” he said. “Ask me to take you back.”
She opened her mouth then closed it again. His free hand drifted to his other pocket. Had she felt a knife?
“I’m sorry, Lewin,” she said. “I made a mistake. Forgive me?”
“Mollie! Where the fuck have you been?” Jean-Paul ran toward her.
She exhaled in relief. “There were too many people in the queue. I used this bathroom.”
“Come on, they’re waiting for us.”
“Are we done?” she asked Lewin.
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
She shook her head. “No, I won’t. I’m going to report you. I gave you another chance when I didn’t say anything about you following me to Yorkshire. But I told Jock what you’d done.”
Lewin recoiled.
“And I’m going to tell him you came here tonight. You need help, Lewin.”
“Bitch.”
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Jean-Paul said.
Mollie let out a cry when she saw the knife in Lewin’s hand. “Don’t make this any worse.”
He slipped the knife back in his pocket. “My word against yours. I’ve been fifteen years in the police. Who do you think they’ll believe?”
“Mollie,” Jean-Paul said.
Lewin laughed and walked off. She sagged against Jean-Paul. He showed her his phone. “I just recorded that.”
* * * *
They were all waiting in the limo and Mollie slipped into the space between Lysander and Flint.
“Where have you two been?” Lysander asked.
“Lewin,” she whispered.
He gripped her hand. “Oh my God. Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “I hurt his pride. He wanted me to beg him to take me back.”
“He had a knife,” Jean-Paul said.
“Fuck.” Flint took her other hand.
“I said I was sorry, that I’d made a mistake, and I asked him to forgive me. I wish I hadn’t had to say anything.”
“We’ll report him,” Lysander said. “This has gone on long enough. The guy’s dangerous.”
“I recorded him too,” Jean-Paul said.
“What the hell’s this about?” Ryker asked.
By the time Mollie had finished telling him, he was wide-eyed. “Leave it with me. I’ll sort it out.”
“I don’t want to spoil Flint’s night.” She turned to Flint. “You were brilliant. Nearly as good as the dog.”
Everyone but Corin roared with laughter.
“I had an offer you might like to think about,” Ryker said to Flint. “Catwalk for charity. They’re trying to get a group of film stars together next July.”
“What charity?” Flint asked.
“Help for Heroes.”
“Yes,” he said.
“Great.” Ryker smiled.
“What about me?” Corin asked.
“You want to do it?” Ryker pinned her with his gaze.
She pouted. “They didn’t ask for me?”
“No.”
“Then fuck them.”
Ryker sighed. “Sometimes you are such fucking hard work. And I saw you trip Mollie. One more wrong move and you’ll be looking for another agent.”
* * * *
The party was in a smart hotel and the moment Mollie stepped into the glitzy room on Lysander’s arm and was handed a glass of champagne, she felt as if she’d been swept up into a different world. There were faces everywhere she recognized from TV and the movies, and a large number of people surrounding them. The biggest crowds surged around Flint and Corin. Mollie spotted him patting his throat and grimacing.
Jean-Paul stood wide-eyed at Mollie’s side. “Oh my God, that’s… And that’s… Oh shit, I can’t believe I’m in the same room as Devlin Jacobs. Oh my fucking God.”
“Take a breath,” Aden muttered. “And watch your language.”
“It’s like a celebrity petting zoo,” Lysander said.
Mollie giggled.
“You mean we can pet them as well?” Jean-Paul almost squealed.
“You can see where the most famous people are because of the surge of people who follow them,” Aden said.
“Everyone’s trying to find out if those they’re standing next to are ones they have to talk to,” Lysander said.
“Oh my God,” Jean-Paul gasped. “Did you see him smile at me? My poor cock.”
“I’ll find some ice to put down his pants.” Aden tugged him away.
“Lysander Weldon, what the hell are you doing here?”
Mollie watched a middle-aged woman sway toward them like a ship in full sail. She wore the biggest dress Mollie had ever seen outside a TV costume drama, though this one was neon pink.
“Vivienne.” Lysander kissed her cheeks and turned to introduce Mollie. “This is my friend, Mollie. Mollie, meet Vivienne. Vivienne has bought more of my paintings than anyone else.”
Mollie shook her hand.
“So what are you doing here?” Vivienne asked. “A room full of people? Not your thing, darling.”
“I was invited.”
“But you never go anywhere.”
“I’ve been dragged kicking and screaming from my cell.”
Vivienne winked at Mollie. “Good for you. Perhaps you’ll persuade him to come to my Christmas party this year. Are you a painter too?”
“Schoolteacher,” Mollie said.
“How wonderful. A normal human being. You’ve chosen well, Lysander.” She waved at them and sailed on.
Lysander blew out a breath. “Want something to eat?”
“Is there anything?”
“There’ll be a table somewhere.” He took her arm as they wended their way through the crowds.
“You think Flint is all right?”
“He’ll be fine. You can hardly hear yourself speak in here so he can use that as an excuse if he doesn’t understand.”
Mollie had watched him do a lot of nodding and smiling, as well as touching his throat and wincing. Corin had stuck to his side like a leech. Mollie saw him scan the room every now and again, and when he’d snagged her gaze, he smiled.
“Food,” Lysander said and handed her a plate.
“Ooooh. Tiny food.”
He laughed.
It looked really pretty. Mollie helped herself to a miniature Yorkshire pudding filled with beef and horseradish sauce, a goat’s cheese tartlet, parsnip blini with walnuts, a date wrapped in prosciutto, then went back for another Yorkshire pudding. Every plate and dish held something she liked the look of and she worked her way along the table.
When she turned to Lysander, he’d picked five items and Mollie sagged.
“Pretend these are for you,” she said and swapped plates.
She took the date from the plate he was now holding and Lysander said, “Hey!”
“They’re mine, not yours. I don’t want to look greedy.”
“But it’s okay if I do?”
“Yes.”
He smiled and they maneuvered through the crowd to find a place to sit. More champagne was delivered to the table and Mollie mentally told herself to watch how much she drank.
“He’s good,” Lysander whispered in her ear.
“Who?” she whispered back.
“That magician.”
Mollie felt as though she was sitting at the top of steep slide, hovering in that moment before she slid. It didn’t have to be him. It could be any magician. There were hundreds—thousands of them. But this was her night for people popping up she didn’t want to see.
She raised her head and looked to the far end of the table. Voudin was making a glass seemingly drop through the table, much to the amazement of those around him. Mol
lie turned in her chair to face the other way.
“Here,” Lysander offered her the plate.
Mollie felt the contents of her stomach rise up into her throat and she swallowed hard, shaking her head.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
I need to leave. I need to run. Oh God, this cannot be happening. But she knew if she stood, she’d collapse. He’d told her he never wanted to see her again and she’d sworn to herself she’d never give him the chance to repeat those words. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
Lysander tried to put the glass of champagne in her hand and she shuddered.
“Mollie, is it Lewin? Is he here?”
She shook her head. Voudin’s voice was closer now. He was moving around the table, amusing guests with his sleight of hand.
Get up, get up, get up. Why was she still sitting there? Mollie girl, get a grip. Smile. Show him you don’t care. Maybe he won’t even recognize you.
“Stay where you are. I’m not having him stalk you like this.”
Not him. But the words were stuck in her throat and now Lysander had gone and Voudin was here. She tilted her head and looked straight at him. He knows. He was too much of a consummate professional to show his shock but that slight parting of his lips, the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple, told her everything.
“A disappearing trick next,” he said to the crowd around him. “So much fun when things vanish into thin air never to be seen again. You can get rid of all sorts of troublesome items.”
He picked up a salt cellar, wrapped it in a napkin and put it in front of Mollie.
“Now you see it,” he said. “Now you don’t.” He smashed his hand down hard onto an empty napkin and she jumped.
Everyone applauded. Mollie kept her hands in her lap.
“If only I could do that with a bigger object,” Voudin said.
She pushed to her feet and walked away.
“Oops. Seems I can,” he said and Mollie heard laughter ring out behind her.
She rushed through the room, desperate to get away, and spotted a gray-haired guy talking to Flint. There was no sign of Corin. Mollie elbowed her way to Flint’s side and put her arms around him.
Talking Trouble Page 28