“It’s a twelve hour shift, I’ll be here until 2. a.m.,” she replied.
“I’d like to meet with you and go over the offer Mr. Barrett wishes to make. I assume you have a dinner hour.”
“Yes, I do, at seven. I’d be happy to meet you. There’s a cafe across the street, it’s called Cafe Maris. They have booths there. Would that be all right?”
“Yes, that would be fine. I’ll see you there at seven. I’ll be in a dark grey suit and white shirt.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” she replied. I guess that’s the George Barrett uniform. It’s the only thing I’ve seen standing outside his door. Stern looking men in dark grey suits and white shirts. His voice was odd. Clipped and edgy. This is bit weird. I guess I’ll find out more in a few hours.
Picking up her phone she sent a second text to Blake.
Meeting about that private nursing job at 7 p.m. Wish me luck.
Thinking Blake was probably in the middle of shooting a scene, she was about drop her phone back in her bag when it buzzed. Delighted she picked it up.
You don’t need luck. The job is already yours. Sleep on it though, and tell me the details when I call you tonight. Xxx
“Oh, my gosh,” Belinda murmured. “It’s so great to have someone in my corner. I think I can face the rest of the day now.”
Sending him back several xx’s, she put the phone back in her bag, and checking her watch she saw she still had five minutes to relax.
George Barrett, how could you possibly have told your man, whoever he is, that you want to offer me a job? You never talk. Maybe you just never talk to me. If nothing else, this will be a very interesting dinner.
* * *
At Burbank Studios, Blake was standing at the top of a staircase. He was about to fight two men, then take a tumble down the stairs. They’d been rehearsing the scene for over an hour, and raising his arm he signaled that he was almost ready. Everyone knew what that meant. Blake would stare at the floor and walk in a circle, then step up for the take.
As he stepped away from the top of the stairs, he gazed down at the burgundy carpet under his feet and imagined Belinda tied in leather straps, laying on his coffee table. Her bottom was a gorgeous crimson color, made that way from the tongues of his flogger, and secretly smiling at the covert image, he lifted his head and walked back to the top of the stairs.
What happened next, no one could have foreseen, least of all him.
As he stepped into position, a tiny wrinkle in the thin carpet caught his toe and tripped him. He’d stepped over it, around it, and on it, throughout the day, but his foot had never been in that precise spot, and it sent him hurtling head first down the stairs.
As he felt himself falling he threw out his arm and caught a bannister. The instinctive reaction broke the momentum of the fall and he was able to stop himself halfway down. He’d heard the panicked yells of those around him, and as he opened his eyes and looked up he knew something was wrong. There was no relief on their faces, only concern, and he heard someone mutter,
“I guess he forgot his rabbit’s foot.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
More curious than nervous, Belinda pushed open the door and entered Cafe Maris. It had taken her five minutes to grab her coat and bag and walk across the street, so she wasn’t surprised that Fred Simons, dressed in his dark grey suit and white shirt, was waiting for her in a booth at the back of the restaurant. He stood up as she approached, flashed a semi-smile, and as they settled in she saw he was nursing a drink in a heavy glass tumbler.
“Our paths have crossed,” he said. “I see you when you come in to comfort my employer.”
“Yes, you’re always engrossed in reading something.”
“I usually am, it’s my life, reading things. Would you care for a cocktail, a glass of wine?”
“No thank-you,” she replied. “I’ll be back on duty in an hour.”
“Yes, of course, I should have realized. What about coffee or tea?”
“Some tea would be good, thank you.”
He called the waiter over, ordered her pot of tea, then immediately began talking.
“You’ll forgive me if I get straight to business,” he said formally, “it’s the only way I know how to be.”
“Yes, sure,” she nodded. “It is why we’re here.”
“By now you’ve probably researched George Barrett and learned that he is a very private man.”
“Yes, I have.”
“He has very solid reasons for being so particular about his security and the way he lives. Those reasons are confidential and will remain so. I’m telling you this so you will understand he is not as eccentric as is claimed in the press, and any rumors you may have heard, or may hear, you must take them with a grain of salt.”
“I see. Well, thank you for telling me,” she said, and you’ve made me even more curious.
“We have been informed that Mr. Barrett will require ongoing care for several days after his release, so if you decide to accept his offer you will be required to live at the house.”
“Mr. Simons, around the clock care is usually provided by more than one person. The protocol is—”
“Not in this case,” he said firmly, then paused to take a drink. “We don’t want a parade of different nurses coming and going,” he continued. “That won’t do, that won’t do at all. He wishes only you to be his caregiver. He understands this arrangement might be inconvenient, but he is prepared to compensate you accordingly.”
“I see,” she said quietly.
“The home is spacious and has panoramic views of the ocean. All your meals will be prepared by a chef who will cater to whatever special dietary needs you may have. For your convenience your suite will be very close to Mr. Barrett’s, and anything you need will be provided.”
Again he took a drink, then reaching into his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper and placed it on the table in front of her.
“This is the amount we will be willing to pay you for the first five days, prorated for each day you remain.”
As she opened it up, she was grateful that the waiter arrived to place the teapot on the table. It gave her a moment to process the number she was staring at. $10,000 for the first five days, $2000 per day thereafter.
“This is very generous,” she murmured trying to control the shock in her voice.
“Have you had a chance to look at the menus?” the waiter asked completely oblivious to the intense meeting taking place at his table.
“I’ll call you over when we’re ready,” Mr. Simons said sternly. “Please don’t interrupt us again.”
Belinda saw the young man blush beet red, and wanting to say something but knowing she couldn’t, she sat silently as the intimidated waiter hurried away.
“Once you have moved in it would be best if you didn’t leave the house until your duties have been completed. Anything you need we can have delivered.”
“I can’t leave the house?”
“It would be better if you didn’t, not until your services are no longer needed. If something should happen and you were gone...”
“This is all very, uh, unusual,” she frowned.
“Indeed,” he nodded, “but it is how it must be.”
“I’m curious,” she said. “May I ask how Mr. Barrett made his feelings about me known? He doesn’t talk, not at all.”
“I have been his personal secretary for some time,” Fred Simons said gravely. “I know how he likes things, and I am responsible for anything that concerns his well-being. I run the house as well as his business affairs.”
“He certainly is a very talented man,” Belinda offered, hoping it was a subject that would help the man speak to her like a normal human being.
“Yes, he is gifted. He has a brilliant mind, but like many people who have a brilliant mind he is lacking in certain areas. I take care of those.”
“I am very grateful for this offer, but to lock myself away for five days, reg
ardless of how fabulous Mr. Barrett’s home is, I’m not sure it’s something I want to do.”
“It’s only five days, Miss Harris. You can do anything for five days, surely.”
“Perhaps,” she said thoughtfully. Blake will be busy for the next five days. He’s got the three days ahead, and then those scary stunts. Maybe I could do this. “There’s also the hospital to consider. Mr. Barrett will be sent home quite soon, and I would have to give notice.”
“You need not concern yourself with the hospital. Your superiors are fully aware that we are talking with you, and the hospital will receive a generous donation for any inconvenience. They understand you may be leaving them abruptly.”
“I’m not sure what to say.”
“Please give the offer your serious consideration. I’d be obliged if you would make a decision quickly. If you’re not interested I must find someone else. Dinner here is taken care of. Please order whatever you want. I’m sorry I won’t be able to join you. Good evening, Miss Harris.”
She watched him swallow down the last of his drink, then rise from the table and stride away.
That is the most bizarre meeting I’ve ever had in my life, not that I’ve had many meetings, but that was definitely bizarre.
Bursting to speak to Blake, reaching into her bag she retrieved her cellphone and typed in a text.
Just had my meeting with the man representing the patient. Fred Simons. He’s offered me amazing money but it’s an odd situation. Dying to talk. Please call me when you can. Going back on duty in forty-five minutes.
Hoping he might be near his phone she waited anxiously for a response, and when none came she signaled to the waiter.
I’m here, it’s paid for, I may as well have a decent dinner.
She ordered her meal, then staring at her phone again she willed Blake to call.
Darn. I know he’s busy. He did say he’d call me later tonight. I hope he does. How can I pass up ten grand? I can’t, but the whole thing is so weird. What’s the worst that can happen? It’s not like George Barrett is an axe murderer, he’s just a bit strange, and besides, he’ll be in bed the whole time. With that ten grand I’ll have a buffer, and it will give me some breathing room while I look for more work. Why am I even hesitating?
Sighing heavily, wishing it was a glass of wine she poured herself a cup of tea, and as she was splashing in the milk her phone rang. Hastily pulling it from her bag she was thrilled to see it was Blake, and wanting privacy she hurried from the table and into the ladies room.
“Hi. I’m so glad you called,” she said eagerly.
“I just got your text. Can you give me the bullet points?”
His voice was hushed, almost a whisper.
“Sure,” she replied.
He sounded rushed, and she assumed he was busy and calling her from the set.
“I’d have to stay at his house for five days. I wouldn’t be allowed to leave, and they’ll pay me a whopping ten-thousand dollars, and two-thousand a day for every day past those first five days.”
“Wow. That’s quite an offer. What’s the catch?”
“Like I said, I’d have to stay at the house and I wouldn’t be allowed to leave.”
“What do you mean, you wouldn’t be allowed to leave? I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I know, it’s weird,” she agreed, “but that’s the deal. If there’s something I want, it would be delivered.”
“How do you feel?” he asked. “Is your instinct saying move forward, or is it saying, proceed with caution?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. The money, it’s really tempting.”
“Who is this guy that he can pay you so much? Have you checked him out?”
“Yes, he’s a character, that’s for sure. His name is George Barrett, you might have heard of him, he’s—”
“NO,” Blake said vehemently.
“Sorry?”
“No,” he repeated. “There’s no way you’re working for him. He’s a lunatic. I hate to say this but I have to go, we’ll talk about this later, but—” then inexplicably the line went dead.
Chapter Twenty-Three
He’d half-expected to be caught, so when the matronly nurse walked through the curtain, took the phone from his hand and ended the call, he wasn’t surprised, nor was he angry. There were signs everywhere, no cellphones, and he was relieved he’d been able to talk to Belinda for as long as he had.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.
“You’ll get it back when you leave,” she replied, “and I’m surprised at you Mr. Berenson.”
“You wouldn’t be if you knew me better.”
“I’m glad you still have your sense of humor,” she remarked raising her eyebrows. “The doctor’s coming. You won’t be very pretty for a few days, but you’ll be fine, and you’re lucky, very lucky.”
The side of Blake’s face had hit the edge of a stair resulting in a nasty gash that had bled profusely. Though Blake had protested, the paramedics on the set, concerned about a possible concussion and knowing he’d need stitches, had raced him to a local emergency room. As he was bustled into a cubicle he was grateful he was on the other side of town, and Belinda wasn’t there to witness the drama.
“Mr. Berenson, I’m Dr. Peterson. Let’s take a look at you.”
“Hi, Doc. Just patch me up and send me on my way,” Blake said calmly.
“Such a tough guy,” the doctor remarked. “Don’t worry, you’ll be out of here in a few minutes. You’re the stuntman, right?”
“Yep, but believe it or not I didn’t do this working. I mean, I was at work but—”
“I know what you mean. How did it happen?”
“Accidentally fell down some stairs I was supposed to fall down.”
“Uh-huh, that makes sense,” the doctor said with a wry grin. “Just stay still and quiet for a few minutes while I take care of this mess.”
To take his mind off what the doctor was doing, Blake sent his thoughts back to Belinda and the strange job offer.
George Barrett. I don’t care how much money he’s prepared to pay you, it’s a bad idea. God, the stories I’ve heard come out of that house on the hill. I have to stop you, but how? It sounds so perfect. Five days, ten grand, I don’t blame you wanting to jump in, but what exactly are you jumping into. I don’t care that the guy will be laid up.
“Sorry, no work for you tomorrow,” the doctor announced breaking into Blake’s thoughts.
“That’s not possible, doc,” Blake replied.
“Then I guess we’ll be meeting again,” the doctor said briskly as he put the finishing touches on his work. “You’re going to have a mother of a headache and an impressive black eye. I’ll give you some painkillers.”
Blake’s mind began to race. He could call in one of his good buddies, Sam Freeman, to do the rest of his gags over the next few days. It wouldn’t take long to bring him up to speed. He’d also have Sam be hit by the car. Marty or Jake could do it, but they didn’t look enough like him to make it work. It was the star of the movie who was getting beat up and suffering through all the violence, and Blake was his height and coloring. Sam Freeman, with a wig, could get away with it.
The leap though between the shipping containers though. I’m going to do that. I love my run and jump stuff.
“Do you have someone to drive you home?” the doctor asked snapping Blake from his thoughts a second time.
“Yes, I have someone waiting for me.”
“Please don’t drive for twenty-four hours. I think you might have a slight concussion. I know you movie guys think the sky will fall in if you don’t get right back to work, but your injury needs at least a day to settle. If you fall, or get punched, or hit a wall, you’ll be back here, worse off,” the doctor warned.
“I’ll be careful,” Blake promised. “Nothing physical for the next twenty-four hours, but I still have to coordinate things.”
“Watch out for elbows,” the doctor warned. “How’s your head feel
ing.”
“Like it got slammed with a piece of wood,” Blake grimaced.
“Appropriate. That’s exactly what happened. Take some painkillers, and ice it, but don’t put the ice directly on the wound. Cover it with a thin cloth”
“I know, I’ve been here before.”
“I’m sure you have. Okay, you’re done.”
“I need my phone. Nurse Ratchett has it.”
“Here you go,” the woman said as she bustled in. “Don’t use it until you’re in the parking lot or you’ll have another black eye.”
“Ouch, yes ma’am,” Blake said soberly as he took it from her.
“She means it,” the doctor grinned. “Good to meet you, Mr. Berenson. Take care of yourself.”
The doctor moved swiftly away, but the nurse stayed behind to make sure Blake was steady on his feet.
“Take it easy, walk slowly,” she said warmly. “This city needs heroes.”
“If you’re talking about what happened in the Palisades, I’m not a hero,” he sighed. “Right place, right time, that’s all.”
“I’m walking you out,” she said ignoring his comment. “I don’t need you tripping over gurneys.”
In spite of her irascible personality, Blake liked her, and when they reached the waiting room he leaned down and pecked her on the cheek.
“You’re a sweet lady. Thank you.”
“Thank me by taking care of yourself,” she said firmly, but Blake saw the faint blush cross her face and knew she was tickled by his attention. “Who’s driving you home?”
“I am,” Josh said stepping forward.
“Oh, I almost forgot, here are your painkillers,” she said reaching into her pocket. “When you get home eat something, take two, then two more in the morning with breakfast.”
“Thanks,” Blake smiled. “Okay, Josh, get me outta here. Has someone followed you? Do you have a way home?”
“No, that’s okay, I’ll call a taxi,” Josh replied as they moved slowly through the waiting room.
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