by Cat Schield
“Hello, Bobby,” she said, sitting down beside the producer. “Is Chase joining us?”
“No. He’s on a winning streak at the craps table and didn’t want to leave.”
Scarlett smiled. “What about you? Any luck at the tables?”
“A little.” He grinned at her. “Now, let’s get down to business. I know you, Scarlett. You want this part.”
“It’s a fabulous opportunity.”
“So come to L.A. and test for it.”
Agreeing would set her foot on a path that might not lead back to Las Vegas. She shook her head. “I really appreciate what you’re trying to do for me,” she told the producer. “But I’m not interested.”
“You’re an actress, not a hotel manager.”
He made it sound as if she was dealing drugs for a living. “I’m not turning you down because of my position with Fontaine Richesse,” she explained. “I have a life here. A life I really love.”
“What if we could shoot all your scenes in one day? You wouldn’t have to move back to Hollywood. Just commute. You still own your house, don’t you?”
She had a place on the beach in Malibu that she’d bought shortly after turning eighteen. She’d told herself she’d kept the house because market values had dropped, but the truth was she loved the California coast and kept it as a getaway when she needed to escape the glitter and rush that was Vegas.
Or as a backup plan?
Was Logan right? Deep in her heart, was she thinking of Las Vegas as something to fill the time during the lull in her acting career? With the way her heart was skipping at the thought of going back to work in front of the camera, she had to consider if she’d been kidding herself all this time.
“It’s been seven years since I’ve done more than a guest spot here and there. What if I’m terrible?”
“Not possible.”
She covered Bobby’s hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “No one was beating down my door five years ago,” she reminded him. “There had to be a good reason for that.”
“You were turning down the parts offered.”
“Because I wanted to do something that called for me to do more than look pretty and act sexy.”
“Here’s your chance.”
“No wonder you’re the most successful producer in Hollywood.”
“I know what I want.”
“And you don’t stop until you get it.”
“Then you’ll come do the test?”
If Logan had asked her to stay, would she be at all tempted by Bobby’s faith in her? Scarlett sighed. She’d never let a man sway her decision about anything. Why was she doing so now?
“Let me talk it over with my sisters. I’ll let you know before you leave tomorrow.”
Bobby’s smile broadened with triumph. “Perfect.”
Maybe Logan had been right about the message she was sending the producer. She’d gone from a definite no to agreeing to consider a screen test.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Scarlett said, getting to her feet, “I have some party arrangements to check on. Sandy secured you an eight-thirty reservation at Le Taillevent this evening. Dinner’s on me.”
“As always you’re the perfect host.” Bobby rose to his feet and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Chase and I are leaving at one tomorrow. Can you join us for lunch before we go?”
“Why don’t I come to your suite at eleven-thirty.”
“I’ll see you then.”
* * *
After getting Madison and her friends settled into the hotel suite with pizza and a warning to keep the music at a reasonable volume, Scarlett organized a quick dinner with her sisters in her suite at Fontaine Richesse. As the three sat down to salads topped with salmon and glasses of white wine, Scarlett quickly broached what was on her mind.
“I’ve had an offer to do a television series,” she said, sipping her wine.
As usual, Harper was the first to react. “I thought you were done with acting.”
“I was.” Scarlett heard the uncertainty in her tone and qualified her response. “I mean, I thought I was.”
“Is it an interesting part?” Violet quizzed.
“The best I’ve ever been offered.”
“A lead?” Harper was the sort who set her eyes on the top prize and wouldn’t consider anything less worth her time.
“No. It’s a small supporting role, but the character is complex and interesting.” Scarlett looked at each of her sisters. “Five years ago, even two years ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to race back to L.A. and take the part.”
“But now?” Violet prompted. “Something’s changed?”
“I really feel as if I’ve hit my stride with the hotel. Then there are you guys. I love being your sister and don’t want to live so far away from you.”
“That’s awfully sweet of you to say.” Harper’s lips curved in a dry smile. “But are you forgetting that we’re your chief competition in our grandfather’s contest?”
Scarlett laughed at Harper’s question, despite her lingering uneasiness over her decision to conceal what she knew about her sister’s true parentage. “You don’t seriously think I have a shot at running Fontaine Hotels and Resorts, because I’m convinced I don’t.”
“You don’t know that,” Violet insisted, always the peacemaker. “Fontaine Richesse has done really well under your management. Grandfather could choose you.”
“I don’t have the experience or the education required to run the company.” Scarlett pointed her fork first at Harper, then at Violet. “You two are the only ones in the running. I’m just happy to have been given the chance to be considered.”
“Have you told Logan that you’re thinking about heading back to L.A.?” Violet asked.
“Logan?” Harper interjected before Scarlett could answer. “Why would she tell him?”
“Because they’ve been seeing each other,” Violet said, her tone exasperated. “Don’t you notice anything that happens outside your hotel?”
“Not in the past three weeks.” She turned to Scarlett. “How serious is it?”
Scarlett lifted her hand to bat away the question, but the concern laced with curiosity in her sisters’ eyes was a powerful thing. “It could be anything from casual to involved. I can’t really tell. He’s pretty cagey about his emotions.”
“Cagey?” Harper echoed, her tone doubtful. “He’s positively Alcatraz. I’ve gotta say, I didn’t see that coming. You two are like oil and water.”
“More like gasoline and matches,” Violet put in. “All that animosity between you had to be hiding a raging passion.”
Scarlett didn’t comment on her sister’s observation, but couldn’t prevent heat from rising in her cheeks. As an actress she could control her body language and facial expressions, but stopping a blush was something she’d never mastered.
“Raging passion?” Harper echoed, her eyes widening. “What exactly have I been missing?”
“A lot.” Violet looked smug. “How many nights has he stayed at your place in the past two weeks?”
“Not one.” He liked to be home when Madison got up in the morning.
“Then how many nights has he gone home in the wee hours of the morning?”
“Several.” Scarlett couldn’t believe how giddy she felt at the admission.
“Then it’s serious?” Harper asked.
“He’s encouraging me to head back to L.A. and take the part. That tells me it’s pretty casual.”
“But hot,” Violet piped up.
Both Harper and Scarlett ignored her.
“Maybe he knows how important acting is to you and wants you to be happy,” Harper suggested with a pragmatic nod.
“But I told him I was done with acting.”
&n
bsp; “But you’re telling us that you’re not.”
“I really thought I was. It’s been a year since I’ve been offered a guest spot. And that’s been fine. I’ve been completely content here. I put L.A. and acting behind me.” Scarlett sorted through her conflicting emotions. “I’ve already turned down Bobby three times, but he won’t take no for an answer and after Logan told me to go, I’m wondering why I’m hesitating.”
“Why are you hesitating?” Harper asked.
“You’re going to think I’m an idiot.”
Violet said, “I promise we won’t.”
“Logan is so against my past acting career and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize our relationship. But today he was behaving like there’s nothing going on with us. I’m starting to think I made up our connection because I’m crazy about him.” Admitting her deep feelings wasn’t something that came easily to Scarlett, but time spent with her sisters had eroded the walls she kept up to guard against disappointment and hurt.
“You are?” Violet looked surprised. “How crazy?”
“The kind that’s going to end up with my heart broken.” Being able to share her concerns with Harper and Violet gave Scarlett a sense of relief. “Maybe I should go back to L.A. and take up my career again.”
“We’d miss you,” Violet told her.
“We would.”
Scarlett’s eyes burned. “Thanks.”
“I’ll bet Logan would miss you, too,” Violet said, her hazel eyes sparkling. “Maybe he’s pushing you away because he’s afraid it will hurt too much to lose you.”
That sounded sweet to Scarlett’s ears, but she wasn’t susceptible to romance the way Violet was. In fact, until Logan came along, she’d interacted with men with an eye toward what they could do for her.
“Logan Wolfe isn’t afraid of anything,” Scarlett declared. “Least of all losing me.”
“Everyone’s afraid of something,” Harper said in an unusual display of insight. “You’ll just have to figure out if he’s more afraid of keeping you around or letting you go.”
Nine
Logan paced his living room, aware that he resembled a grumpy, caged bear. He squinted against the sunlight streaming in his large picture window, but Scarlett’s flashy red convertible was not streaking up his driveway. For the tenth time in half an hour he glanced at his watch. Not surprisingly, the hands hadn’t crept forward more than a couple minutes. It was 12:23 p.m. and Madison should have been home from her birthday party almost two hours ago.
If something happened to her...
A car was moving through the vegetation that lined the driveway, but it wasn’t Scarlett’s. As the vehicle drew closer, Logan spied his niece in the passenger seat and recognized Scarlett’s assistant as the driver. Annoyed by the change in plans, Logan strode through the front door and went to meet the car.
“Hey, Uncle Logan.” Madison exited the car, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder, and waved at the driver. She stretched and yawned with dramatic flair as she neared him. “What a birthday party. That was the most fun I’ve ever had.” Lifting up on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “Thanks again for letting Scarlett plan the party.”
“Where is she? She was supposed to drive you home.”
His sharp tone caused Madison’s eyes to widen. “She had a meeting with Bobby and Chase, so she had Sandy bring me home. You can’t disapprove of Sandy, Uncle Logan. She’s thirty-five, never had a ticket. She drove the speed limit the whole way here.”
Ignoring Madison’s sass, Logan focused on what was really bothering him.
“So it’s Bobby and Chase, now, is it?” he demanded, his temper getting the better of him. “When did you get so cozy with them?”
He knew better than to take his frustration out on his niece. It was Scarlett who’d stirred up his ire. Scarlett who was hell-bent on returning to L.A. and her acting career.
Or maybe he was mad at himself for encouraging her to do so.
“I’m not cozy with them,” Madison retorted. “They were just being nice. Bobby gave me his card and Chase told me to look him up when I get to L.A.”
Logan’s focus sharpened. “What do you mean, when you get to L.A.? You’re heading to college this fall.”
Madison tossed her hair in a perfect imitation of Scarlett at her most exasperating. In fact, now that he thought about it, Madison had adopted several mannerisms from the actress. How had he not noticed the metamorphosis before this? His niece admired everything about Scarlett, why wouldn’t she think it was a good idea to behave like her?
“I know my parents sent me here so you could work on me about college, and heaven knows that’s a drum Scarlett has beaten to death, but I really think my path lies in Hollywood.” She rested her hand on her hip and tilted her chin. “And I’m eighteen now. I can do whatever I want.”
Logan ground his teeth and regarded Madison in silence. This wasn’t the tune she’d been singing yesterday morning. She’d been debating two of the schools she’d gotten into, trying to decide which way to go.
“You might be eighteen, but you’ve never been on your own without your parents’ money before.”
“I’ll get a job waiting tables or something and support myself until I get an acting job.”
Logan was beset by visions of his niece all alone and at the mercy of a string of people with bad intentions who would use Madison up and spit her out. “Do you really think it will be that easy?” How had weeks of good advice been erased in one short night? “And where are you going to live?”
“I can stay with Scarlett.”
Icy fingers danced up Logan’s spine. So Scarlett had decided to return to L.A., after all. And why not? Hadn’t he told her to go?
“She’s definitely moving back to L.A.?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
Madison looked surprised that he even had to ask. “Of course. Why would she turn down a part that will kick-start her career once more?”
The thought of losing her swung a wrecking ball at his gut. He’d been a fool to let her think he would be unaffected by her departure. Had he really thought this was a good time to test her? To see if she meant all her passionate kisses and romantic gestures? Sheer stubbornness had made him complacent that she’d choose Las Vegas and him over her acting career and stardom.
“Did she invite you to stay with her?”
“Not in so many words, but I know she will do whatever she can to help me get started.”
Hadn’t she already done enough? Logan fished his car keys out of his pocket. He and Scarlett needed to have a face-to-face chat.
“We’ll talk more about this when I get back.”
“Where are you going?” She sounded less like a confident woman and more like a teenager who was worried she’d pushed her luck too far.
“To talk with Scarlett.”
“What are you going to say?”
“That you are not going to L.A., so she can forget about having you as a roommate.”
“It won’t do any good. She was thrilled that Bobby was willing to help me.”
Two weeks ago Logan might have believed Madison’s claim. Since then, Scarlett had stuck to his wishes and encouraged the teenager to finish college before she made any career choices. He also knew just how headstrong Madison could be. She’d proven that when she’d run off to L.A. on her own last spring.
“Why don’t you give your parents a call and tell them how the party went yesterday. I’m sure they’re eager to hear how you spent your birthday.”
He was heading his Escalade down the driveway when his phone rang. He cued the car’s Bluetooth. “Wolfe.”
“Boss, it’s Evan. You wanted me to let you know when the Schaefer assessment was done. Jeb and I finished half an hour ago. The report is on your desk.”
Preoccupied with the troublesome women in his life, he’d forgotten all about the multimillion-dollar proposal they were working on to overhaul Schaefer Industries’s security system. The deadline for the bid was four this afternoon. He needed to look over the final numbers and make sure there were no holes in the strategy they’d created. Scarlett would have to wait.
* * *
The big closet full of costumes wasn’t having its usual soothing effect on Scarlett. She grazed her fingertips along sequined sleeves and plucked at organza skirts but couldn’t summon up the charisma to wear Marilyn Monroe’s white dress from The Seven Year Itch or the slinky green number Cyd Charisse wore to dance with Gene Kelly in Singin’ in the Rain. Her heart was too heavy to play her namesake, Scarlett O’Hara, and she’d never be able to pull off Cleopatra’s sexy strength.
Her confidence had been dipping lower and lower ever since she’d told Bobby her decision about the television series. Logic told her she’d chosen correctly, but she couldn’t shake the worry that she’d irrevocably closed the door because she was afraid of putting herself out there and being rejected.
She came across Holly Golightly’s long black dress from the opening scene of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, pulled it off the rack and held it against herself. Perfect. Holly’s mixture of innocence and street savvy had always struck a chord in Scarlett. Many days she felt that way. Tough on the outside because acting was a rough business to be in. Fragile as dandelion fluff on the inside. Some weeks she’d go for a dozen auditions and not have a single callback. It had been hard on her, a change from the days when she’d basked in the studio’s love and appreciation.
Running Fontaine Richesse had brought her defenses and her longing into balance. She’d gained confidence in her abilities and no longer faced daily rejection. Dropping her guard had taken a while, but eventually she’d stopped expecting to hear what she was doing wrong. She’d begun to thrive.
Scarlett put on the iconic black dress, zipped it up and fastened on a collar of pearls. She regarded her reflection in the mirror. This costume was a head turner. With the sixties-style wig, black gloves and long cigarette holder, she bore an uncanny resemblance to Audrey Hepburn. And becoming Holly Golightly gave her a much-needed break from her current worries.