Second Chance Reunion

by Irene Vartanoff

  She’d met handsome actors before, and hadn’t noticed or cared how they looked. Why was she looking so hard at David Connor right now?

  Mentally, she shook herself. He’d almost caught her in his spell. “I think George wanted you out of town, incommunicado if possible. What could be more middle-of-nowhere than the New Mexico desert?”

  “I’ve been here before. It’s deadly.” There was no humor in his tone or his face now.

  She said, stiffly, “I’m sorry, but it was five years ago.”

  “And nobody paid for it. Nobody.” His tone of voice was pure fury.

  A cold wind touched her heart. He couldn’t mean what she suspected. “Why are you here? To finish the film? Or for revenge?”

  His eyes shifted a little. “Since George finally caved and allowed me to buy the option, I’ve got a legitimate means of forcing Lucas to finish the film at last.”

  He hadn’t answered her. She tried again. “Why do you care?”

  “Why?” He moved in close, his expression angry. “Jen gave the best performance of her life in Desert Wind. It was a crime to bury it with her. I intend to see her get justice.”

  He was awfully worked up, and it was for real, not acting. “You must have loved her a lot.”

  “Yes.” His eyes went bleak.

  “Just remember, so did Lucas.” She turned tail and left the room, finally escaping the intensity of David’s bright blue gaze.

  Chapter 10

  Sara paced around the pool deck. She needed space to consider what had just happened.

  David Connor was a game changer. She’d fortified herself to confront Lucas repeatedly if need be, to push him to provide the film files and help finish it if necessary. What would her role be now? Would Lucas consider her a traitor to him if she cooperated with David? Or would Lucas evade David as he had evaded her so far? Would this be a duel of silences? Or hot confrontations?

  For all her flourish in leaving David with a sharp remark, if he truly was in charge of the film’s future, she was now his employee. If she still had a job on this project. George had been her powerful mentor for five years, but George was dying.

  David also had key information. He knew how much of Desert Wind remained to be filmed. How was she to get it from him? Touchy as Lucas was regarding the tragic past, David seemed even more so. He was still blazingly angry and vengeful five years later. To protect Lucas, she must cooperate with David. If he even wanted her on the project, that is.

  How could George make the basic mistake of allowing David power over Lucas? David was an actor, not a director. Turning an abandoned film into something coherent would be extremely difficult. Desert Wind needed an experienced hand at the helm, the hand of a supremely talented director. Desert Wind needed Lucas.

  What a disaster this project could turn out to be, with her stuck in the middle. She’d thought about giving up, but now that David was here to menace Lucas, she had every intention of staying.

  Perhaps George might still have the power to control what happened. She hoped that was true, but George wasn’t answering his phone. He might be undergoing treatments or more tests.

  Finally feeling she knew where she stood in the new scenario, she left the pool area to freshen up in her room before dinner.

  Once there, she began stripping off her dusty hiking garb, intending to take a quick shower. She opened the door to her en suite bathroom, and realized she was looking directly at David Connor, who was bare-chested, wearing only a towel.

  “Oh.”

  He turned at the sound, eyeing her. Her patterned camp shirt was half-off, revealing plenty of her skin.

  “Nice lace,” he said, eyeing her chest. “I always did like a French-cut bra.”

  Her hands pulled her shirt closed to cover her breasts. She backed out of the room and slammed the door.

  “You’re welcome to share,” he called through the door.

  She rebuttoned her shirt. After examining the door handle, she locked the door on her side. Why had Lucas put David in the room next to hers? Or had Leona made the assignment? There were other bedrooms. A shared bathroom made for a far too intimate setup.

  Knocking sounded on the door. “Are you decent?” His voice came through the door.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Let me in. We should talk some more.”

  “We can talk later. I want a shower before dinner.”

  “No shower unless we talk first. I won’t unlock from my side unless you unlock from yours.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Too bad you won’t impress Lucas tonight with a clean face.”

  She stared wildly around. In a mirror on the wall above a dresser she saw that, sure enough, streaks of dirt marred her face.

  She wouldn’t give in to this imperious newcomer. “He’s already seen the dirt. He’ll understand when I ask for a different room,” she flung at him.

  “Open the door, Sara.” His voice was gentle. “I won’t bite.”

  Despite herself, she unlocked her side of the door.

  David strode in confidently, fully dressed. His casual pink polo shirt molded to his chest and his well-worn, tight blue jeans showed off his nicely proportioned legs. Huarchi sandals completed the California vibe.

  “You’d already unlocked it,” she accused.

  “Of course,” he smirked at her.

  She walked to her little desk by the window, nervously flipping folders closed. She stayed on the far side of the desk, hoping he wouldn’t notice that she wanted to put some space between them physically. “What won’t keep until dinner?”

  “Why are you here?” His eyes broadcast suspicion.

  Why was he asking this? “George sent me to edit the film.”

  “First it has to be pried away from Steel. Why does George think you can do that?” He stared her up and down, visibly cataloging and then dismissing her average body and average face, plus her total lack of movie star glamour. “Are you and Lucas lovers?”

  She turned slightly away, hoping the color rising in her face wasn’t noticeable. “Why do you want to know?”

  “He put you in Jennifer’s room.”

  She knit her brow. “It’s probably the nicest guest room or something.”

  “He put me in my old room, too. Why?”

  “Why does this matter to you?” she asked, puzzled. “You’re making a big deal over nothing.”

  “Lucas is trying to manipulate us both. What’s your role?” He approached her. He put his hand out and touched her face, turning her to the light from the window. She held her breath as strange sensations skittered along her nerves from the soft contact. David Connor was incredibly handsome up close. She'd noticed before. Now she fought to ignore an unfamiliar rush of heat in her body, a tingling sense of being a woman in the presence of a man. It was pure chemistry, nothing to do with the core of who David might be.

  He was well aware of his impact. That was why he’d moved so near to her, invading her personal space, pressing her into a corner of her room, making her feel like…prey.

  David leaned in and nearly whispered his next words. “Are you here to sleep with me or with Lucas? Or both of us?”

  She backed away from him, away from the window. “That’s outrageous.”

  “But is it true?”

  Shaken, but determined that he not see it, Sara strove to maintain a calm air. “I’m not an aspiring actress. I don’t need a fleeting relationship with either of you. In fact,” she continued, feeling braver as she put physical distance between them, “you all need me to salvage this mess.”

  “Who says the film is a mess?”

  “How much was completed?”

  He made a cutting gesture with his hand. “Not going there.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know you, Sara. Keep talking. Maybe I’ll decide to trust you. Maybe not.”

  “Why don’t you leave so I can take my shower? We can talk later.”

  “I stil
l want to know what’s your angle.”

  “I don’t have an angle,” she replied with as much frost as she could put in her voice. “I’m merely here to put the movie together fast.”

  “Fast? After five years?” His laughter had an edge. “George wants us to humor the madman.” He sneered. “Pretend we’re here to help dear old Lucas.”

  “Do you hate him?” Sara asked. “Do you resent coming out here again?”

  “The woman I loved died here, so why should it bother me to return?” he asked, in a flat tone of voice.

  Sara didn’t have a reply. David gave her another piercing look, and stalked back to his room through the bathroom. He ostentatiously locked the door that led to his bedroom behind him.

  What a predicament. Sharing a bathroom gave them an intimacy she did not want. She must persuade Lucas to bunk David elsewhere. The nearest town would be good. Fifty miles away would suit her fine.

  He’d kept asking what her angle was, but now she wondered about his. To finish Desert Wind and set a glorious seal on Jennifer Barnes's professional reputation? Had his lover performed to a higher standard than ever before in this one film? Or did David have some other goal in mind? Like ruining Lucas any way he could? What could be more perfect than gaining control of the film and making sure the final product hurt Lucas's reputation?

  No matter how hostile and unhelpful Lucas had been with her about reviving Desert Wind, she didn’t want to see him deliberately savaged by his younger rival. She must protect Lucas from David’s possible hidden agenda.

  Chapter 11

  Dinner was worse than Sara expected, from the first moment. The two men greeted each other with near snarls. Glad the table was between them, Sara sank onto the third chair and held her breath as David kept up a steady stream of needling comments aimed at Lucas. Leona silently served the meal, outdoing herself with beautifully presented dishes. Neither man noticed and Sara was too tense to compliment the housekeeper.

  David cited the number of people who watched Jennifer Barnes movies every year. The number of fan sites devoted to her. The number of her posters and T-shirts still selling. “Her iconic wet T-shirt poster is still moving ten thousand units a month,” he said, spearing a piece of tomatillo. He added, with a nasty smile, “But you already know that, don’t you?”

  Lucas hardly spoke. He maintained an air of indifference. Sara watched the antagonists, waiting for the next explosion. She was tempted to voice her opinion that a near-nude poster of any attractive actress would sell thousands of copies. But Sara was in the presence of two men who had loved Jennifer Barnes. She held her peace.

  “Why should I care about T-shirts?” Lucas muttered, pouring himself a glass of wine.

  “You’re living off Jen,” David said.

  “What do you mean?” Sara asked. She snapped her mouth shut, sorry she’d spoken without thinking.

  David barely glanced at her. His eyes burned at Lucas. “Jen was done with him but forgot to change her will. Everything she owned and every cent her estate earns today goes to Steel.”

  Sara looked at Lucas. “Is this true?”

  David answered for him. “Steel can afford to rot in his luxury hideaway because he’s being supported in his worthless idleness by his dead ex.”

  “You’ve got a hell of a nerve,” Lucas replied. “Jennifer was my wife.”

  “She divorced you. She loved me.”

  Lucas laughed, visibly enraging David. “I divorced her. You were nothing to her, just her latest boy toy.”

  “You were so much better, using her popularity to make your art house flops profitable?” David sneered. “Without Jen, your big deal career would have been in the toilet and you know it.”

  “I earned my Oscars by creating serious films the world respects,” Lucas replied. “Not by wiggling my bare ass, like you.”

  “My bare ass is more successful than your entire career. You used Jen while she was your wife, and then you killed her. You’re still using her.”

  Lucas sneered. “You’re a piece of meat with nothing between your ears and too much between your legs. Guys like you are a dime a dozen.”

  David half-rose from his chair. Was he about to spring on Lucas?

  Leona came in with dessert, but neither man stopped hurling insults. She looked shocked and disapproving.

  Sara covered her ears. She leaped up from the table. “Please, stop. I can’t take any more.”

  Both men looked at her. She said, “Jennifer Barnes died five years ago. It’s time you both got over her.”

  She careened out of the room, bumping into Leona, muttering an apology. She finally settled on the living room as a place of refuge. She didn’t want to go to her bedroom and possibly be intimately harassed by David again. She turned on the television to a loud infomercial, hoping to drown out Lucas and David if they began shouting. Would one of them pick up a dinner knife and attack the other? It had felt that violent in the room with them.

  A few minutes later, Leona brought in a tray with tea and a piece of cake. “Please. Eat.”

  Sara clicked off the television. The sound of the men’s angry voices still reverberated from the dining room. “They hate each other,” Sara shivered.

  Leona cast a glance in the direction of the noise. “Why?”

  “Were you here five years ago, when Jennifer Barnes died?”

  The older woman shook her head. “Mr. Steel hired me three years ago.”

  Sara hesitated about what to say, then opted for the truth. “Lucas was married to Jennifer Barnes, the famous actress.”

  Leona nodded. “Her portrait hangs in his bedroom.”

  “It does?” Sara choked down chagrin that Lucas should still venerate the memory of the woman who had betrayed him. “David Connor, the actor who arrived today…”

  “I’ve seen his movies,” Leona said, with a sly smile. “Very hot.”

  Sara let out a snort. As if being hot made up for anything. Yes, David Connor was hot. In his most recent movie he’d played a male stripper. Sara had not gone to see it. Perhaps she should have. David had a beautiful male body. But his mind seemed filled with nasty worms.

  She described the love triangle briefly. “You know better than I do how much Lucas hates intrusions from the world he left behind. You see him every day. What do you think he’s angry about, aside from David Connor?”

  The older woman said, “That life is beautiful. Every day, he rides his horse. When he comes back, I ask him, what did you see? He replies, ‘I saw nothing.’”

  “That’s so sad.”

  “My husband runs the property for Mr. Steel. The boss pays no attention. He doesn’t care.”

  Sara sighed. “He might as well be living in a windowless apartment in a big city, for all the pleasure he derives from this beautiful desert.”

  Leona nodded. “It is beautiful. Not lush, but beautiful, anyway.”

  The men’s angry voices could still be heard. Once Sara finished her cake, Leona hefted the tray and started to leave the room. She turned her head in Sara’s direction and said, “My advice, pick the young one.”

  Sara gaped at the housekeeper’s back as she retreated down the corridor. Pick David Connor? Leona had seriously misread the situation. Sara was not here to choose which man became her lover. Her mission was to pry a lost soul out of the wilderness of his prolonged grief. Except now, with David’s arrival, it seemed there were two lost souls here, one of them bent on vengeance.

  The men were still arguing. What good could it possibly do? David yelling at Lucas was a novelty for Lucas in his hermitlike existence, but would that galvanize him out of his retreat from life?

  The men entered the living room. “I need a drink,” Lucas said, heading for the bar. “This fool says he’s hired a film crew.”

  “They arrive next week,” David said, clearly pleased with himself.

  “You’re kidding,” Sara said. She turned to Lucas. “Then you’ve got to let me have all the footage right away. We must
review what you have in the can before the crew arrives.”

  “No. Absolutely not.” Lucas picked up a whiskey bottle from the bar, and poured himself a shot. He gulped it down, banging the empty crystal glass on the bar counter.

  “You promised George,” she said.

  “I made no promises. I told George I’d think about it.” He poured himself another shot.

  “Drink up. Continue to avoid reality,” David said, disdain evident in his tone. He walked closer to Sara and addressed her. “Control of this film has passed out of his hands and into mine. We’ll start tomorrow.”

  “No way,” Lucas yelled.

  Sara looked at David, wide-eyed.

  He was calm, the hint of smile about his lips. “You can’t stop me. I’ve got the upper hand.” He walked out of the room.

  Lucas drank the second shot down. “Arrogant bastard.”

  “Do you want to call George?” George might calm Lucas down.

  Lucas threw his glass at the fireplace, shattering it. He picked up the whiskey bottle. “I’m going for a walk. Alone.” He stalked out of the room, through the French doors, and into the garden, slamming the doors hard.

  What a terrible situation. Lucas had been plenty angry at her already, but nothing like this level of rage.

  David returned a few minutes later. “Where’d he go? I called the sheriff. He’ll arrive in the morning.”

  She indicated the garden with a cock of her head and a finger point. “You’re really going to force this?”

  David gave Sara a pitying look. “You may be willing to keep asking nicely, day in and day out. Not me.”

  “Gaining Lucas's cooperation is key to the artistic success of the film.” She didn’t state the obvious, that Lucas was a brilliant director and David had never directed anything.

  “I don’t need Steel. I can hire a new director.”