Home to You

by Robyn Carr

  “Because you’re the one who has to face down what you’ve done.” Why did her sacrifice have to be equivalent to his? She hadn’t screwed up her life the way he had.

  “Not with your father looking on I don’t. I just have to survive the next two years without doing anything stupid. The rest is up to you.”

  “Why are you making this so difficult?” she demanded.

  “You started it.”

  “Going without sex isn’t the same as giving up my family and friends!”

  “I think it’s pretty equal,” Ian inserted, but both she and Simon ignored him. They were locked in battle.

  “I make some concessions. You make some concessions,” he said. “How’s what I’m doing so unfair?”

  He was attempting to punish her, but she wouldn’t let him. “You’d know if you had a family to bother with!”

  When a muscle jumped in his cheek, she realized what she’d just said and had no idea how she’d allowed herself to be so callous, even to someone who provoked her as much as he did. His father, a dissolute movie star himself, had conceived Simon with his wife’s sister. For obvious reasons, the relationship between father and son had always been strained. His father’s wife refused to have Simon anywhere near her. And his mother, who’d been disowned by the rest of the family for sleeping with her sister’s husband, had died of breast cancer when Simon was ten. After she was gone, he’d been moved from the small house he’d lived in until that time to his father’s estate, where he’d been raised by the hired help that slipped in and out of Tex O’Neal’s life, not all of whom were particularly reliable. Rumor had it that the one nanny Simon had loved most had gone to prison for embezzlement.

  “I’m sorry.” Her cheeks burned as she gaped at him.

  He glared back. “I’m not going anywhere close to your family,” he said, and got up and walked out.

  “Simon, you okay?” Ian’s expression filled with so much concern that Gail was tempted to believe he really cared about his employer, beyond just the paycheck, but Simon didn’t respond.

  “Did you have to go that far?” He turned to face her once it was clear that Simon wasn’t coming back.

  She was so busy kicking herself she didn’t need him to pile on, too, but she couldn’t blame him. “I didn’t mean it. I—I’m overwrought. Couldn’t sleep a wink last night. Other than that, I have no excuse.”

  “You’re in the public-relations business, damn it!”

  “I wish I could take it back.” She honestly hadn’t meant to hurt Simon, hadn’t realized she could. He seemed so...impervious. Still, she prided herself on using restraint and diplomacy especially in difficult situations. What had gotten into her?

  Sinking onto the sofa, she tilted some of the ice left in Simon’s glass into her mouth. She’d turned him down when he’d offered her a drink, but she shouldn’t have. She needed something to relieve her dry throat, and she was rattled enough not to care where she got it.

  “For what it’s worth, he’s going through hell,” Ian said.

  She set the glass, now empty, back on the table. “You’ve mentioned that. But he’s not the only one, okay? I don’t like this any more than he does.”

  “Of course you don’t.” He made a noticeable effort to calm down. “You’re out of your comfort zone, and that’s understandable. But...can’t you... I don’t know...put out for him once in a while? Just to help him stay on the straight and narrow? I bet he’d agree to meet your dad if you do.”

  She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  “No! Come on, what would it hurt? You’ll be married so it won’t be illegal or immoral. Even Mother Teresa couldn’t object.”

  When she didn’t respond, he seemed encouraged.

  “It might be something you’d enjoy,” he added. “He could loosen you up. Teach you a few things. If this marriage is going to work, he’ll need an outlet.”

  “I am not going to become his blow-up doll.” Something to be used and tossed away when he was done, something that would never mean anything to him. She had to live with herself when this was over.

  “Forget it. I shouldn’t have brought the subject up again.” He shrugged. “Time will take care of it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ll see. You’re going to want it as bad as he does. I mean, you’ve got to have some physical desires of your own. You’re what, thirtyish? And not bad-looking. A bit pale, maybe, but if you were to forget the business suits, let your hair down and laugh once in a while, you could get laid.”

  She held up a hand in the classic stop position. “Please, don’t try to cheer me up.”

  “Just my two cents,” he said with an attitude that indicated he was as obtuse on this as he sounded.

  “Could you shut up for a second, please? I need to think.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets while she tried to sort out her thoughts and feelings, but silence didn’t offer the clarity she’d hoped for. She kept coming back to two things. She couldn’t bear to cast her employees aside. And she couldn’t return home in defeat. Whether she liked it or not, that left her with only one option—to ignore her frustration and unhappiness and marry Simon.

  But the second she said, “I do,” she’d step into the spotlight that followed him mercilessly and attract far more attention than she’d ever feel comfortable with. And if Simon refused to make an appearance in Whiskey Creek, her father would be positive that she’d turned out as disloyal as her mother, and her friends would feel snubbed and betrayed that she hadn’t included them in the “courtship.”

  “Don’t.” Ian broke into her thoughts.

  She lifted her head. “Don’t what?”

  “Back out. You’re Simon’s only hope for getting even partial custody of his kid. He’s counting on you.”

  But what about her family? “What if something goes wrong—we can’t get along or...whatever? I don’t want to make matters worse.”

  “This marriage won’t be easy, but if anyone can do it, you can. I’ve never met a more talented publicist.”

  “Really?” His confidence in her actually made her feel a bit better. She eyed him, wondering what he was about to add that would twist the compliment into something less flattering, but he seemed to be in earnest.

  He lowered his voice as if he thought their host might be standing outside the door. “This will give Simon a second chance. I think he deserves one, if that makes any difference.”

  Someone as shallow as Ian probably wasn’t the best judge of character. But it would give Big Hit PR a second chance, too. Considering the money she stood to make, she’d have her payroll covered for a long time, even if things turned bad again. But could she really do this? Could she placate her family and friends with calls and emails for a few months by pleading Simon’s busy schedule?

  If so, maybe she could convince her “husband” to visit Whiskey Creek for Christmas. Or at least let her return for a visit. “This is going to require such a commitment,” she said, feeling the weight of it. “And for so long.”

  “Not that long, not as far as marriages go. Think of it as a job, like you told Simon to do.” He bent at the waist to catch her eye. “Okay?”

  The years she’d toiled to get on top came to mind. So did the fact that she had nowhere to go if this didn’t work out. She couldn’t bear the thought of moving back home; she’d done everything she could to escape Whiskey Creek the first time. “Okay.”

  “You’re making the commitment?”

  She stood. “I’m making the commitment.”

  He crossed to the minibar and brought the prenup they’d painstakingly devised on the phone last night. “So when should we have the wedding?”

  She glanced over the legalese Simon’s attorneys had thrown to
gether on short notice, made sure everything was in order and signed before panic could overtake her. “A month from now is the earliest we could have the ceremony and make the relationship seem credible. Check Simon’s schedule. See if he’s free the first Saturday in November.”

  “I’ll clear off whatever else he has going.”

  “What are you going to tell Chelsea Seagate?”

  “Nothing. I’ve already called her to say we’re canceling our contract with Pierce Mattie and returning to you.”

  She wished she could take some small pleasure in that. “Fine.”

  When she handed him the contract, he smiled in apparent relief. “Thanks. First Saturday, private ceremony in Vegas. The two of you will take his jet, of course. But that doesn’t give us much time to prepare.”

  “Then we’d better get to work.” She left the house but stopped in the drive, her finger hovering over the send button on the pictures he’d emailed her. Once she forwarded them to Josh and he leaked them to his friend at Hollywood Secrets Revealed, there’d be no turning back.

  A creeping sensation gave her the feeling that she was being watched. Twisting around, she spotted movement in a second-story window. It was Simon, looking out at her. They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then she held up her phone to let him know they were at the point of no return.

  After a slight hesitation, he nodded, and she pressed Send.

  Seven

  Gail hadn’t expected her other life, the life she’d known in Whiskey Creek, to intrude quite so quickly. But as she walked into the office, which was closed up and dark on a Saturday afternoon, Callie Vanetta, a member of the clique she’d grown up with, tried to reach her on her cell phone. Gail let it go to voice mail because she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to anyone from Whiskey Creek at the moment. She’d just left Simon’s and hardly felt prepared.

  “You okay?”

  She was standing in the middle of her office, staring at her phone and feeling guilty about avoiding Callie when she heard Josh’s voice. She glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see him in the doorway. Her employees typically took weekends off, unless they were working on a big project. When she’d sent Josh the pictures, she’d assumed he was home and would forward them from there. But he knew she spent most weekends in her office, catching up on what she hadn’t been able to finish during the week. Considering what was going on, he’d probably made a special trip to see her.

  “I’m fine, why?”

  “You need me to explain?”

  She turned to face him. “No.” She knew perfectly well why he’d asked.

  “So?” Eyes wide with curiosity, he closed the door. She wasn’t sure why, since they were alone. Just more of his sense of drama, she supposed. “Give me the lowdown. How’d it go?”

  Could she classify the meeting she’d had with Simon and Ian as good? They’d worked out a lot of details, launched “The Plan.” But whether or not they’d regret what they’d started remained to be seen. “Simon’s in.” That was about all she could say, all that was certain.

  “I figured, when you sent me those pictures. It’s the dirty details I’m after.” His voice took on a husky undertone. “Were you two really kissing in that photo? Or did it just look that way?”

  They hadn’t kissed. But they’d stood awfully close. Close enough so she could smell the toothpaste on Simon’s breath. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. When her breasts accidentally grazed Simon’s arm as Ian pressed them into ever more compromising positions, she’d jumped back as if he’d burned her, and Simon had scowled.

  Maybe she had overreacted. But that brief contact had sent a jolt through her.

  “It was all staged,” she assured Joshua. “We weren’t kissing.”

  He flopped into a seat. “How disappointing.”

  It had been a little anticlimactic to continue their discussion while her heart was pounding like a jackhammer. Thanks to her line of work, she associated with the rich and famous quite often, but she’d never gotten so worked up over anyone else. In an effort to fight the effect Simon was having on her, she’d searched his face, only inches above her own, for one significant flaw, something to convince her that he wasn’t as attractive as she’d originally thought—and found nothing.

  His eyes were especially distinctive. An unusual sea-green color contrasted with thick black lashes and even thicker eyebrows, they reflected too much cynicism. That wasn’t attractive, but there was a hint of the lost little boy in there, too. His fine build, combined with those eyes and that sense of hidden vulnerability, packed a punch that had left her reeling.

  She’d been pleased to find his bottom teeth slightly crowded.

  Not that such a small imperfection really mattered. Thanks to Shiver, his last suspense thriller, she’d seen what he could do to a woman with his lips and tongue.

  “You should’ve made out with him,” Joshua said.

  She pulled a skeptical face. “Right. In front of Ian?”

  “Why not? He was hoping to get a steamy pic. You could’ve blamed it on the PR campaign. I can’t believe you missed the opportunity to indulge. I would’ve made out with him to my heart’s content.”

  Instead, she’d been clinging to her control, trying not to get swept up in the lust surging through her veins. “Simon’s too feminine for my taste.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  Kidding herself, maybe. High cheekbones and a prominent jaw, not to mention the perennial shadow of beard growth, added more than enough of the masculine to compensate for his pretty eyes and pouty lips. But she had to create some kind of defense. There were moments when she was afraid the hero worship she’d once felt would reassert itself and undermine what she knew of the real Simon. “I’m just saying he looks like his mother more than he does his father.”

  “Doesn’t make him feminine.”

  “Did you get those pictures off?” she asked instead of responding.

  “As soon as they hit my in-box.”

  Rounding her desk, she straightened her blotter. “And...did you get confirmation that they’ve been received?”

  “Immediately. Sarah’s ecstatic about breaking the story—and avoiding any heat from that other mess we created.”

  “Good.”

  “So.” He crossed his legs. “You’re sure you’ll be able to make yourself go through with it? You’ll marry him?”

  “I don’t see that I have any choice. I’ve already signed the contract.”

  Hanging his head, Joshua peered at her through the hair, dyed a stark black instead of his usual brown, falling into his eyes. “I feel so bad about what I did.”

  “I know.”

  “I endangered Sarah’s job, too.”

  “Yes.” Gail drummed her fingers on the desk. “What’d her boss say?”

  “He’s every bit as excited as you’d expect. Anything Simon does is big news.”

  That picture they’d taken in the backyard would soon be online. Other magazines and bloggers would jump on the publicity bandwagon before she could blink.

  Sick at the thought of all the calls that would pour in, how she’d become the focus of the paparazzi who’d harried her biggest clients, Gail propped her chin on one fist. “Do you think this is a disaster waiting to happen?”

  “Could go either way, but you’re saving my ass by doing it, so I can’t tell you how grateful I am.” He gave her a childlike smile. “Makes me love you all the more, if that helps.”

  “It doesn’t,” she said, but smiled back.

  He sobered. “I deserve to be fired.”

  “Except that you’ve been great at your job and I can’t judge your entire performance by one stupid, drunken mistake.”

  “I appreciate that. I really do.” His mood brightened. “Tell you what�
��I’ll marry Simon.”

  She pictured the fury in Simon’s face when she’d said what she had about his family, or lack thereof. At this point, he’d probably prefer anyone to her—maybe even Josh. “I wish you could.”

  She prided herself on being able to handle anything, but she was out of her element here. Maybe she was better at running other people’s lives than her own. “What if he won’t stop drinking?” she asked. “Or he secretly bites his toenails? Or sleeps in a coffin? Or burns incense and offers up prayers to his own picture?”

  “All movie stars are eccentric—or get that way if they go unchecked for too long. Just roll with it. The marriage is only temporary.”

  Two years didn’t feel as short as he made it sound. “But he might be more insufferable than I’m expecting. Maybe he’s...abusive.”

  Josh grimaced. “He’s not abusive, not physically, anyway. With his ex running her mouth to anyone who’ll listen, we would’ve heard about it if he’d ever even threatened to hit her or the kid.”

  “He’s hit a few guys,” she mused. “He got in that fight on-set, remember?”

  “I’m not likely to forget. That’s the reason you refused to work for him anymore.”

  Ignoring the censure in his voice, she proceeded to prove it wasn’t the only reason. “What about that time a few months ago when he tried to force his way into his ex-wife’s house and got in a shoving match with her brother?”

  “Maybe he had a good reason for what he did.”

  “On both counts?”

  “That’s how we tried to spin it,” he said with a shrug.

  “He could’ve walked away.”

  “We both know he’s not the type. Too short a fuse.”

  “That’s no excuse.” She searched for other examples to support her “Simon’s unstable” theory. “And those bikers?”

  Joshua adjusted the scarf he wore with his pink button-down shirt. “I think he wanted to get his ass kicked that night. Why else would he drive to the shitty side of town and confront so many dangerous gangbangers? He was all alone, had no chance from the beginning.”