Home to You

by Robyn Carr

  Maybe when Simon O’Neal grows up, he’ll realize that women are good for more than just one thing.

  Simon O’Neal is his own worst enemy. He hates himself in direct proportion to everyone else’s admiration. Why is anyone’s guess. The guy’s had it all. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no excuse for his behavior....

  Maybe some people find him attractive. But I wouldn’t sleep with him if he were the last man on earth. There’s no telling what kind of disease he’s carrying....

  There were other comments he couldn’t remember verbatim. Something about how he needed more therapy than even a fortune like his could support. And another about his being a waste of God-given talent, a man without decency, a charming Dr. Jekyll on-screen and an evil Mr. Hyde off...

  “What can I do for you?” he replied, using the same overly polite tone with which she’d addressed him.

  She lifted her chin. “Could I have a word with you, please?”

  Was she crazy? He had no interest in walking off with her. “’Fraid not. Maybe you don’t remember, but we don’t have anything to discuss these days. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m with someone.” He could feel Sunny’s interest in their exchange; she watched them but didn’t say anything.

  Gail ignored her completely. “It’ll just take a minute.”

  He flicked his hand, hoping she’d interpret the gesture for what it was—an indication that she should take herself off. “I’m busy.”

  Unfortunately, she didn’t go anywhere. With a decisive tug on her tailored jacket, she cleared her throat. “Fine. We’ll talk here. I—I’d like to offer you an apology.”

  He didn’t want an apology. People were beginning to stare, to realize she was the PR woman who’d dissed him. Everyone would want to hear what she had to say. He should get rid of her as soon as possible. But she’d just given him an opportunity to challenge the integrity she clung to like a battle shield, and he couldn’t resist.

  “Are you saying you didn’t mean all the terrible things you said about me?” he drawled.

  She hesitated while searching for words, eventually coming up with a response designed to placate him without being overtly untruthful. “I shouldn’t have said them.”

  Damn right she shouldn’t have said them! She’d drawn first blood. She’d been so sanctimonious while sitting on the throne of her PR empire that Ian had shown her just how vulnerable she was. It’d been tit for tat, no big deal. And as far as Simon was concerned, their little...disagreement was over.

  “No problem. I’m willing to let bygones be bygones if you are,” he said. “Have a nice night.”

  “That’s it?” Her blue eyes widened.

  He slung an arm around Sunny, slouching into her so he’d look comfortable and cozy and unlikely to go anywhere. “Were you hoping for more?”

  Her bottom lip quivered as tears filled her eyes.

  Ah, shit.

  “I was hoping that you might—”

  Jerry Russell, the director of his latest project, interrupted by walking up and bending to look in her face. “What’s going on here? You making the ladies cry already, Simon?”

  “You got trouble, Simon?” someone else piped up, and that was all it took to send a murmur through the crowd that made everyone turn toward him.

  Tears rolled down Gail’s cheeks. He could tell she was trying to hold them back but that only seemed to make matters worse. She was emotionally strung out and under scrutiny.

  He had to get her out of here before he wound up on the front page of the tabloids again. One picture of her sorrowful face and some stupid paparazzi would report that he’d purposely and vengefully acted to destroy her: Box Office Hit Simon O’Neal Sends Small-Town PR Girl Packing. Which, thanks to Ian, was close enough to the truth that he wouldn’t even be able to fight it.

  He couldn’t afford to give his ex-wife any more ammunition for the bitter war she was waging. If he didn’t clean up his act he’d never gain even partial custody of his son. The judge had been very firm about that.

  People were starting to converge on them. He had to act now to avoid a spectacle.

  “No trouble,” he said with a reassuring smile and, telling Sunny he’d be right back, slid out of the booth. “It’s damn hot in here. I think we’ll get some air.”

  Taking Gail’s hand, to throw any curious onlookers off the scent of another disagreement, he led her at a measured pace, nodding and exchanging greetings as they passed through the other guests to an expensively appointed back room, one that’d been designated for his use. No one ever specified what such a room was for because it was for anything he wanted. He could do drugs in here, have sex, throw a private party...whatever.

  He’d never been more grateful for it than now.

  “What were you thinking coming here?” he growled as soon as he closed the door securely behind them. “And for the love of God would you stop crying?”

  She dashed a hand across her face. “I’m sorry. I... I’m embarrassed, but... I can’t seem to help it.”

  Tears made him feel inadequate. Especially coming from her. In the three years they’d worked together, throughout all the bookings and events and movie releases and good and bad publicity, she’d always been so composed. “Try harder.”

  “Thanks for the empathy,” she muttered.

  Partially so he wouldn’t have to look at her, he crossed the room and poured a glass of champagne from the bottle that had been put on ice, then pressed it into her hands. “Here, maybe this will help.”

  “I don’t drink.”

  He grimaced. “One of the many reasons I don’t like you. Drink it, anyway.”

  She downed it as though it was water and the subsequent coughing fit distracted her enough that she was able to shut off the waterworks.

  “So what is it you want from me?” he asked. “How do I make this...go away?”

  The shrewdness in her eyes returned. “You mean me? How do you make me go away?”

  After taking a second to think about it, he shrugged. “Basically, yeah.”

  “You can say that so nonchalantly after destroying my business?”

  He considered explaining that he hadn’t been as actively involved as she might imagine, but didn’t bother. He doubted she’d believe him, anyway. “You need money, is that it?”

  “No! I want my former clients back. And not for my sake—well, not entirely. The way things sit right now, I’ll have to let my employees go, and...they need their jobs.”

  Her situation was that dire? Already? He was going to kill Ian. Why’d he have to take it so damn far? “Fine. I’ll contact a few people, see what I can do to reverse the damage. Call me next week. Good enough? Will you go home now and...watch TV or reorganize your cupboards or whatever exciting thing you do in your spare time? Maybe you can go online and look for a dress that would be appropriate for a party like this.”

  He could tell she was tempted to land a good jab of her own. He knew she was capable of it. But she held her tongue. With a sniff and a nod, she handed him the champagne flute and started to leave.

  “And, Gail?”

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  “I don’t have a disease, sexually transmitted or otherwise. I can provide the test results if you’re interested.”

  At least she had the decency to blush. “No. Sorry,” she said, and slipped out.

  Three

  Joshua jumped to his feet the moment Gail breezed into her office. “Did you see it?”

  She wasn’t surprised to find him waiting for her. Not after what they’d discussed yesterday. Looking forward to being able to put his fears to rest, to reassure all of her employees, she smiled. It hadn’t been easy eating crow at the party last night—breaking into tears had been downright humiliating—but as agonizing as tho
se few minutes had been, they’d also been worth it. Simon had promised to right what he’d done and she trusted he’d follow through. He wouldn’t want her bothering him again, especially in public; he’d made that clear.

  She’d slept soundly for the first time since dropping Simon O’Neal from her client roster. After spending an hour at the gym, she’d stopped off at a different coffeehouse than her usual one, just for a change, and was really enjoying the new blend. It was a good morning.

  “See what?” She handed Josh her coffee while she removed her jacket and hung it on the rack.

  His own smile a bit smug, he held up the folded tabloid he carried in his other hand. “Hollywood Secrets Revealed.”

  “No.” She hadn’t even signed on to her computer yet. She’d skipped that part of her morning ritual because she hadn’t been worried she might find some damaging anecdote or tell-all about one of her clients in the gossip blogs or Hollywood e-zines. She wouldn’t have to worry about that until she’d recovered some of her list. “Did Simon do something stupid after I left last night?”

  This seemed to take Josh aback. “What do you mean?”

  “At the premiere party.”

  “You went there? You saw him?”

  She sent him a conspirator’s smile. “I sure did.”

  His mouth hung open in surprise as she took her coffee. “What for?”

  “To apologize. Why else would I go? He’s agreed to do what he can to help us get back on our feet. We’re going to be fine.” Hallelujah! What a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She felt so light, as if she could walk on air—until she noticed that Joshua wasn’t reacting to this news as favorably as she’d expected. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you relieved?”

  Stumbling back, he reached behind him to locate a seat and sank into it, clasping Hollywood Secrets Revealed to his chest. “Heaven help me...”

  She felt her eyebrows go up. “Heaven help you what? I said we wouldn’t be filing for bankruptcy. I fixed things. We’ll be okay.” She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and sipped her coffee while waiting for him to absorb the good news. “So...what’s in HSR this morning? A mess for Chelsea Seagate to clean up?”

  With a chuckle for poor Chelsea, she started to round her desk, then stopped. “Why do you look like you just swallowed a marble?” she asked as her assistant’s horrified expression finally dispelled the euphoria that had carried her to work this morning.

  “I—I didn’t know you planned to make up with Simon. You didn’t say that. Not exactly. You said you were going to throw a Hail Mary. I thought that meant you’d try and beg Clint to come back, or...or apply for a loan...or go after Chelsea’s old clients...or consider branching into fashion and beauty PR. I never dreamed he’d accept your apology even if you offered him one.”

  She remembered the argument she and Simon had had when he’d been charged with public drunkenness. “Neither did I. He’s been a bear lately, angry all the time. I must’ve caught him in a benevolent mood.” She gestured for Josh to give her the paper. “Let me have a look at what’s got you so worked up.”

  Closing his eyes, he dropped his head back as if his neck could no longer hold it up.

  “What’s wrong with you?” She laughed because she couldn’t take him seriously. He tended to be overly dramatic. And whatever was upsetting him couldn’t be worse than the problem she’d just solved. Absolute disaster had a way of putting lesser setbacks in proportion. “Josh? The paper?” she prompted when he made no move to hand it over.

  At last, he held it out. But he didn’t look at her. He acted as though he couldn’t bear to see her reaction.

  Frowning, Gail opened the paper, read the headline—and felt her coffee cup slip out of her fingers. “Oh...my... God!”

  He covered his face and groaned.

  Clutching the paper, she jabbed it with a finger. “How did this happen?”

  “It’s all my fault,” he mumbled from beneath his hands. “I... I met a friend at the paper for drinks. I thought Big Hit should go out with a bang instead of scuttling off like a dog with its tail between its legs. I told her she had to be careful how she wrote the story—to protect the magazine and to protect us. And she was. There’s nothing directly attributed to you. It’s all hearsay.”

  Gail wasn’t even listening anymore. The ringing in her ears drowned out all other sound as she read and reread the opening paragraph. This had to be a joke. It couldn’t be happening, not now. But she could tell from Josh’s body language that it was most definitely for real.

  Simon O’Neal Accused of Sexual Assault

  An unnamed source from Big Hit PR, the firm that recently slammed its doors on Hollywood’s biggest bad boy when he started a fight on the set of his latest movie, has revealed that the trouble between Simon and the owner of the firm, PR princess Gail DeMarco, stems from an evening the two spent together almost a month ago. Although details remain murky, and both sides are rushing to cover it up, there has been talk about a sexual assault....

  Ignoring the coffee fanning out on the expensive carpet, Gail leaned on her desk so she wouldn’t fall. “I’ve never accused Simon of assaulting me,” she gasped.

  “The article doesn’t claim to have proof,” Josh said.

  “But the media will be calling day and night, hounding me for details. If this was true, it’d be the biggest story of the year. And—” She reached into her purse for her cell phone. No doubt she already had dozens of messages. She’d turned it off when she went to the gym to save battery power and hadn’t yet turned it back on. “I’m going to be sick.”

  “I know the feeling,” Josh said.

  “What made you think I’d ever condone such a lie?” She pressed the button on her phone that would start the power-up sequence. “Simon is trying to get custody of his five-year-old son.” She held the paper in front of her. “Even though none of this is true it’ll give his ex-wife one more stone to throw at him in court.”

  Wearing a sheepish expression, Josh lowered his hands and sat up. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I was so...angry. And she says talk.”

  He’d already pointed that out. It didn’t help. “She says I was Simon’s victim! And now I will be his victim. He’s going to strangle me! He’ll destroy the company, and then he’ll come after me. And I can’t blame him. Don’t you understand? All he cares about is regaining contact with Ty. It’s the divorce and what he did to cause it that’s eating him up inside. This will... Oh, God. I’ll refute it. Of course I’ll refute it, but that won’t help.”

  “He deserved to have his wife leave him. He was cheating on her with half a dozen other women—”

  “I know. It doesn’t make much sense. But he loved her. A lot. Even I could tell that much.”

  Josh got up and began to pace. “I admit, now that I’m sober, what I did seems...reckless. And impetuous. And foolhardy. But...he gets away with whatever he does, and I didn’t want to let him get away with what he did to us. I wanted him to pay a price.”

  The phone rang, the sound jangling Gail’s nerves. It was eight o’clock, the time the answering service transferred all calls back to the office.

  She glanced across her desk but didn’t reach for the handset. She remained rooted to the spot until Ashley poked her head into the room. “A reporter from The Star is on the phone. They’re offering loads of money for the exclusive. But... I’m not sure you’re going to be interested in that.”

  “I’m definitely not interested. Tell him so.” She needed to get her bearings, make a plan to stop the spread of this story. She could do that, couldn’t she? Avoiding this type of disaster, or minimizing it, was what she did for a living. She’d just never had to do it for herself.

  “Got it.” Ashley lowered her voice. “I know this can’t be easy for you. I have to admit I didn’t agree with refusing Simon’s business. But now
I don’t blame you one bit. I’m sorry I’ve been complaining behind your back about what a stupid decision it was.”

  “You might try thinking before you open your mouth next time,” Gail muttered.

  Ashley winced. “Not exactly behind your back. Yeah, I guess I’ll shut up. But... I am sorry. Are you okay?”

  No. She wasn’t okay. She was in the middle of the worst nightmare of her life and couldn’t figure out how she’d gotten there. She was always the one in the right, the problem-solver, the first with good advice. She’d made a living out of these strengths, only to have Josh shove her firmly into the wrong.

  Ashley stepped closer. “What can I do to help?”

  She curled her nails into her palms. “Get Josh out of here before I start yelling.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry.” Josh was distraught, but Gail wasn’t ready to hear his apology. Not yet. Maybe he’d done what he’d done in some misguided attempt to defend her, to defend them all, or at least get in a good swing at the Goliath in their lives. Considering the situation, that was understandable, especially if he’d been drinking. But there was no escaping the fact that he’d crossed the line, and she was going to pay dearly for it. They all were.

  “Josh?” Ashley said uncertainly. “You coming?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said again, and burst into a full-blown wail.

  Gail breathed deeply as he ran out. “Let him cry.”

  “So...what should I do when other reporters begin to call?” Ashley was still waiting for direction, and not about how to handle Josh.

  “Tell everyone that I’m unavailable. Whatever you do, don’t even hint that I’m here or put anyone through. Not until I give the word.”

  “Does that go for the police? Because they left a message with the answering service.”