If I Loved You (Hollywood Hearts 1)

by Jean C. Joachim

  “I’ve never had so much fun making the best of a bad situation. Meg…you’re so brave…game for anything. A real survivor.”

  “You’re the survivor. After everything you’ve been through…”

  “That’s all in the past now.” He stabbed a shrimp with his fork.

  “So what are your dreams, Dunc?”

  “My dreams? To appear on Broadway and to find love…now I have both.”

  Megan’s gaze dropped to her plate. She perused the food there before taking a French roll from the breadbasket, ripping it in half, and buttering it.

  “You mean me?” Still she didn’t have the courage to face him.

  “Of course you. Who else?”

  She took a bite of the bread and butter, thankful to have something to occupy her mouth so she wasn’t expected to speak. Her gaze rose to his, and she saw love shining in his dark eyes.

  “What’s your dream?” He took a French roll and broke it apart.

  “Must I have only one?”

  “Start with one.”

  “I’d like to work with non-profits…instead of rich celebrities.”

  “Then why are you doing what you’re doing?” He bit into a roll.

  “This offer came along, and it was so prestigious…and my mother was finally impressed with something I’d done. So I took it. But I’ve never been comfortable there.”

  “How would you work with non-profits?” He took a forkful of coleslaw into his mouth.

  “I’d do financial planning, investing for small, non-profit companies and maybe…teachers and nurses…people who do good things, but don’t have a lot of money. They are the people who really need help. They are the ones who need to put something away for their retirement, learn how to manage money, and so on.”

  “Is that your only dream?”

  Meg fidgeted with her napkin, first wiping her lips in a delicate manner, tucking it back into her lap, then straightening the silverware. Chaz reached over and stilled her hands with his. “Okay, tell me about the dream you’re hiding.”

  She sat back and met his stare. Chaz removed his hand and picked up a piece of bread.

  “I’m not hiding it…but do I have to reveal everything?” She stabbed a shrimp and an artichoke heart with her fork.

  “I have. Now you.” He lounged back in his chair, lazily chewing on the French bread, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Like most women, I guess I’d like to get married…have a family…”

  “How many kids?” He swallowed the bread he had been chewing.

  “Two, I guess.” Megan poised her fork, balancing a piece of hard-boiled egg in midair.

  “Perfect! Me too…I mean, two kids. I’ve always wanted to be part of a family. Playing the dad works for me. You get it right?” He laughed nervously.

  Meg smiled at him. He placed his hand over hers and she wrapped her fingers around his thumb. They removed their hands and continued to eat in silence. Meg focused on her food, stealing a glance at Chaz from time to time. She expected him to look nervous after all the talk about marriage and kids, but he appeared calm. A smile graced his gorgeous lips when his eyes met hers. Her pulse sped up. She could feel her heart beating. Oh God, it’s really love…what do I do now?

  “Ready for dessert?” Chaz’s voice broke into her thoughts.

  Megan nodded.

  He lifted up the second silver dome to reveal two dishes of perfect strawberry shortcake, made with real biscuits and—after a quick taste test by Chaz—genuine whipped cream. They both gasped.

  “We should save some of this whipped cream for the bedroom.”

  “This morning twice…then the shower…you’re not…not…sated?” She raised her fork.

  “I doubt I’ll ever be sated as long as you’re around.” Desire twinkled in the black pools of his eyes, and Meg smiled to see his gaze move down to the V in her robe. It had opened slightly, giving him a teasing glimpse of her breasts. The heat of his stare burned a trail of warmth on her skin, as if his hand were gliding down her chest. She took a big bite of the shortcake before Chaz’s phone rang. He wiped his lips and answered it. After a few minutes, he put the phone down and turned to her.

  “Press conference is scheduled for day after tomorrow, in the club lounge, here.”

  “That’s the day I’m leaving.”

  “I know. We’ll still have some time left after that.”

  Her grin turned to a frown as she thought about the press conference.

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. We’ll tell the truth, what can go wrong?”

  Chaz slipped his hand over hers and grinned. Still, tension roiled in the pit of her stomach.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Meg hauled herself out of bed at four o’clock to accompany Chaz to the studio. He was due there at five, and she had vowed to go along. Yawning in the limousine, Meg looked with distaste at her egg sandwich. Too early for food. Give me coffee.

  Chaz seemed to read her mind. “There is more coffee on the set, little chick.”

  “Thank God. I feel like I need a gallon.”

  They pulled up at quarter to five and Chaz took her hand, leading her through the studio and into makeup. She stuck by his side until he had to shoot. Then she found an empty chair and sat quietly watching him.

  Everyone has been so nice. They like Chaz…or are good at faking it. I guess he’s important, since he’s the big star.

  The deference he received from most of the cast and the respect from the director impressed Megan. Chaz joked with the cameramen, did a scene, then again and again with no complaint. He’s so professional! Not like the goofy guy splashing in the pool with me.

  Finding herself fascinated watching Chaz in action, she put her book down and sat quietly, mesmerized by all that was going on around her. Shooting ended at eight o’clock and afterwards, an exhausted Chaz joined her in the limousine. They shared a kiss before Megan spoke. “I loved watching you on the set, but I have a million questions.”

  Chaz opened the bar in the big car and poured a vodka and tonic.

  “Let’s have a drink first. Want one?”

  She nodded, and he handed her a drink before pouring a second for himself.

  “Can we save the questions for the morning? I’m beat.”

  “Of course.

  Back at the hotel, they retired right after dinner, which was room service again. Megan took off her clothes and got into bed next to Chaz. He reached for her and pulled her in close. His hand wandered down her back to stroke her behind.

  “Aren’t you too tired? I’m wiped out.” Megan fought exhaustion.

  “I am tired. Have to be up at four tomorrow too.” Despite his words, he continued to caress her back.

  “Maybe we skip tonight?”

  “You’re leaving tomorrow…don’t know when I’m going to see you again.”

  “You’ll be back in New York next month right?” Megan rested her hand on his hip.

  Chaz nodded. “Supposed to wrap up by the end of August…four weeks or so.”

  “We can last.”

  Chaz kissed her, then kissed her again with more passion. A small fire started inside of Meg. She pressed her breasts against his chest.

  “If you’re gonna do that, I’m gonna get a second wind,” he whispered.

  Chaz maneuvered himself closer to her, their hips flush against each other. Meg could feel his growing desire, and it turned her on. He lowered his hand, sliding it down her thigh until he reached her center. His fingers stroked her, looking for her most sensitive spot and finding it.

  “Oh my God, Chaz.” Megan gulped and closed her eyes.

  “Maybe we should wait…” he teased, withdrawing his hand.

  “Don’t you dare stop now!” She placed her hands on his shoulders and tugged him closer.

  He kissed his way down her body. Opening her legs, he lowered his head.

  “Still too tired?” His tongue flicked at her center.

  “Are you kidding?”
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  He laughed, kissed her neck, and swung into high gear.

  * * * *

  The next day was similar to the one before except they were leaving early for the press conference. Megan again found herself fascinated by the art and technology involved in making a movie and enjoyed the pleasant atmosphere on the set. At two thirty, they piled into the limo and set off for the hotel.

  “You’re not nervous, are you?” He turned to face her, resting his palm on her thigh.

  “A little. Maybe…a lot.” Meg chewed on a fingernail. “I’ve never done a press conference before. I won’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t worry. They’ll pelt you with questions. All you have to do is answer them honestly.”

  “If it’s that easy why do so many people get trapped into looking like serial killers by reporters?”

  His laugh was mirthless. “They’re tough. But you’re innocent and smarter than they are. Don’t let them rattle you.”

  “I wish I could disappear. I’m not good at this…this…limelight thing.” Her brow furrowed.

  “Don’t worry, little chick, you’re not alone. I’ll be right there with you.” He took her hand and squeezed it.

  “Thank God.”

  “You haven’t done anything wrong. After this, I’m going to call that idiot, Harvey Dillon.”

  Meg placed her hand on his arm. “Don’t call him.”

  “I need to straighten this out. I can’t have him thinking you’re a thief when you’re not.”

  She sat back in silence. He’s right. Harvey has to know I didn’t steal that money. But I don’t want to work there. He can take his job and shove it. “You’re right. Need to clear my name. But I don’t want my job back.”

  “I suppose any boss who’d believe that without talking to you first…scumbag is the word that comes to mind.”

  He said it with such a straight face, Megan burst out laughing. “That’s perfect, Chaz.”

  They walked into the hotel, and Megan’s pulse kicked up. The manager motioned them to an empty elevator, and they rode the two flights up to the club lounge. Allie greeted him at the elevator. Chaz introduced her to Megan. “They’re all ready. Hope you are. Just don’t throw your career under the bus for love, okay, Chaz?”

  He smiled at her and let go of Megan’s hand. When she followed him into the room, a dozen reporters and cameramen swarmed toward them. Megan’s heart rate increased. Sweat formed on her palms and her upper lip.

  “Hey Chaz…” Barney Collier from Associated Press waved.

  Chaz waved back.

  “You called this. What’s up?”

  Chaz raised his hand. “This is Megan Davis, my financial advisor. Recently, she has been accused of stealing money from my account at Dillon & Weed. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

  “Oh?”

  “The money, twenty-five thousand dollars, was a gift. I gave that money to Megan.”

  “Really? What for?” The reporter from Celebs R Us spoke up.

  “Megan did me a big favor…helped me prepare for an audition...and…”

  “You want us to believe that you gave this chick twenty-five large for helping you with an audition? What a crock of crap. Come on, Chaz, you can do better than that.”

  “It’s the truth…”

  “Oh, I’m sure it was a gift...but for a different kind of favor…sexual favor, perhaps?”

  “Who are you?” Chaz demanded in an angry tone.

  “Tom Beale, Celebs R Us.”

  “Yeah, look at her. She’s hot.” Another reporter piped up.

  A photographer took a few shots of a horrified Megan standing next to Chaz.

  “That’s a complete lie! I never paid her for sexual favors…” Chaz fairly shouted.

  “Do you deny you’re sleeping with her?” Tom continued his questioning.

  “My private life is none of your business…”

  “So you are sleeping with her. Did you pay her?”

  Chaz blew his cool and took a swing at the reporter. A horrified Allie stepped in and grabbed his arm as he swung it back to take another shot. Tom Beale whipped out a handkerchief and held it to his bleeding nose.

  “You’ll hear from my lawyer.”

  The rapid clicking of cameras and popping of flashes was enough to blind Megan. Her mouth hung open, and she looked around for a place to run.

  One reporter piped up, “We haven’t heard from the girl…”

  “The Harvard Harlot,” Tom Beale spat out, voice muffled by the hanky.

  The offensive nickname snapped Megan out of her trance, “Wait…what Chaz said is true. I played piano…”

  “I’ll bet you did, honey. Knew just which keys to touch, didn’t you?” The reporter snickered.

  “You filthy bastard,” Chaz growled, taking a threatening step toward the reporter.

  Struggling to subdue Chaz, Allie hissed to Megan, “Get out of here!”

  “Why are you in Phoenix, Ms. Davis? Just happen to be visiting or are you shacked up with Chaz Duncan? Did he pay you to come out here?”

  “Of course not.” Megan stiffened.

  “Don’t respond, Meg,” Chaz said, through clenched teeth.

  “The Harvard Harlot…have plane fare, will travel eh?” Tom Beale scratched something in his notebook while the photographer with him snapped pictures as fast as he could.

  “The financial advisor who delivers…all the way to Phoenix,” another reporter joked.

  Tears caught in her throat, and her hand flew to cover her mouth. Chaz’s face was almost purple with rage. He snatched his arm away from Allie, grabbed Megan’s hand, and yanked her out of the room behind him. Reporters and cameramen followed them as they sprinted to the elevator. Once they were safely ensconced in the small space, Allie stood guard, waiting for the doors to close. Before it did she whispered, “I hope you’re happy. Your career’s in the toilet for a piece of ass.”

  When the doors finally shut, Meg dissolved in tears. Hiding her face against the elevator wall, she cried quietly.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea it was going to degenerate into a…a…trash Megan session. I…I…don’t know what to say.”

  Meg straightened up and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. She turned to face him. He smoothed her hair and pushed some strands back from her face, hooking them behind her ear.

  “The Harvard Harlot?” She repeated in a shaky voice.

  “Come here, little chick,” Chaz motioned, and she stepped into his arms.

  When she closed her eyes, she envisioned the next day’s headlines and a fresh batch of tears flooded her face, soaking his shirt. Megan melted into Chaz’s chest and cried. When the elevator doors opened, he ushered her down the hall to his room. Once inside, she calmed down. He sank into a chair, pulling her onto his lap, enveloping her in his embrace. She shuddered as a small sigh passed through her lips.

  “Wait here.” Chaz eased her off his lap and into the chair as he whipped out his cell phone. He dialed a number and Meg only half-listened as he asked for Harvey Dillon.

  “Mr. Dillon, this is Chaz Duncan.”

  Chaz paused.

  “I know all about that, Mr. Dillon, and you have the situation totally wrong. Yes. Yes, that’s what I said. No…look, will you please listen! Right. Sit down and let me give you the facts. Ms. Davis did a personal favor for me, one that helped me nail an audition and get a starring role on Broadway. That’s right. So, I contacted Brielle and asked her to transfer the money. I wanted to surprise Ms. Davis, say thank you with a monetary gift. What? No…no absolutely not. She received exact instructions. That’s right. What? Oh, I see.”

  Chaz’s voice droned on for another minute or two before he hung up. Meg looked up when he sat down on the sofa. She joined him. “He was upset when he realized they fired you by mistake. He’s hoping if he humbles himself you’ll come back. In the meantime, he’s going to have a talk with Brielle. I wouldn’t be surprised if he fires her.”

  “I�
��ll never go back there. They broke my trust… fired me without even asking me about it. How can I work there? Besides, I hated the job. Except for managing your account and Mark’s…oh God! Mark! Quick, give me the phone. I’ve got to reach him before he sees the headlines or he’s gonna go bananas!”

  It took Megan about five calls to locate Mark. He was in the locker room, just finished with practice.

  “What’s up? An emergency?”

  “Sort of.” Megan explained the situation to her twin brother, who flipped out on the other end of the line.

  “If they print that headline, I’m gonna punch somebody out! And if I ever see Chaz Duncan again…Pow!” He made the sound of a fist slapping flesh.

  “Wait, Mark. It isn’t his fault.”

  “No? Then whose fault is it? Sure as hell not yours. That asswipe, putting the moves on my sister, getting her fired…wrecking her life. No one else is gonna hire you after this. That bastard. Wait until I get my hands on him.”

  The voice of Mark’s coach called out, “Davis, get over here!”

  “Gotta go, squirt. Talk later. Love you.” Mark hung up.

  “He’s pissed, isn’t he?”

  She nodded.

  “Pissed at me right?”

  “He’s mistaken about you…this isn’t your fault.”

  “Really? I think it is.”

  “You tried to tell them the truth but they won’t listen. They didn’t want to know it was innocent. They’re looking for dirt…so they created some where none existed.”

  “After that story breaks, ole Harvey may not be so anxious to take you back.”

  “Good. I don’t want to go back anyway.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe open my own office so I don’t have to deal with scumbags like Harvey Dillon ever again.” She took a deep breath.

  “I’d like to help.” Chaz slipped his arm around her.

  “You can be my first client.”

  “Of course, but if you need money for rent or anything…”

  “Haven’t we gotten into enough trouble with you giving me money?”

  Meg put her hand on his chest and pushed away. Chaz’s head snapped back as if he’d been slapped across the face. He backed away from her, dropping his arm to his side.