Redemption of a Hollywood Starlet

by Kimberly Lang

  The last few weeks had been successful and easy, yet oddly boring.

  Three scripts for potential new projects, a preliminary plan for a New York expansion of Dolfinn, and a budget for the next project lay on the table next to his chair. He was studiously and deliberately ignoring them all.

  Because, according to the buzz, Cait was finally back in town. Which meant it was time for him to make a decision. He had to put up or shut up. And, since he was utterly miserable, it was looking more likely like he’d have to put up. Possibly even tonight, because tonight was Folly’s wrap party.

  He had no idea if Cait was planning to show or not.

  Contrary to her statement before she left Baltimore, Cait was remaining rather low-key at the moment: shopping on Rodeo Drive, lunching in all the proper spots and slipping back into her birthright as if she’d never left. She wasn’t flying under the radar, but she wasn’t calling undue attention to herself, either. She was just letting it be known that she was back. While she was currently staying at her parents’ house in Beverly Hills, she’d been spotted house-hunting not far from here, making the statement she was back to stay without saying a single word.

  Especially to him. He had to get his news on Cait from the media, the same as everyone else. It was frustrating.

  Her agent was also letting it be known that Cait was actively seeking a new project, but when a casting director for Dolfinn’s next picture had sent over a script perfect for Cait, he’d been turned down.

  Finn wasn’t sure if that was personal or not.

  And it bothered him that it might be. She was certainly avoiding him. He’d remained cautiously optimistic that Cait would get in touch once she’d had some quality time to think and cool down. That hadn’t happened. Now she’d arrived back in L.A., he figured they were bound to run into each other eventually, and he could let things happen naturally, but eventually was taking way too long and his patience was at its end. He was going to have to make the move, and for the first time in his life he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it.

  His evening with Brady and Ethan had resulted in a painful hangover the next morning, but it was the hard truths that bothered him the most.

  Brady had asked him if he loved Cait. He’d hesitated at the time, but now he was sure. He missed her. There’d been a hole in his life the last three years, only he hadn’t known it. Or hadn’t admitted it. Now he not only admitted it, he knew the cause. He needed her to feel complete.

  And when he’d nearly thrown a punch last week at that stupid reporter who’d hounded him about Cait he’d known for sure. He didn’t care what they said about him, but he cared what they said about her. And not only because she cared so much. It was the first time he’d worried about what the press was going to say about him. About them.

  It was a giant mess. He and Cait were destined to live out their lives in the tabloids. They’d made that choice when they chose their careers. And since they’d be in the press separately or together, he’d rather it be together. The trick would be convincing Cait that it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.

  So much for those people who thought he didn’t give a damn about anything or anyone.

  He gave a damn about Cait. And it was killing him.

  One way or the other, something had to give. And if Cait didn’t show tonight—well, tomorrow he’d turn stalker and go find her. The stalemate had gone on long enough.

  Caitlyn took a deep breath as she smoothed out the shimmery fabric of her dress. Julio had done them both proud with this creation. It draped perfectly off her shoulders, showing plenty of collarbone and just a hint of cleavage. Nipping in at her waist and somehow managing to make it look several inches smaller, the dress stopped just short enough to draw plenty of attention. With a pair of simple black stilettos and her hair twisted into loose curls, she hit the sweet spot between dressy and casual, landing perfectly between look-at-me! and low-key.

  Julio was a genius, and, even more importantly, had welcomed her back with open arms, calling her his muse. The truth was that Julio had many muses, but he knew that anything he put on Caitlyn would get plenty of attention. He made her look her best, and she guaranteed him more free advertising than anyone else. It was a win-win situation.

  Caitlyn certainly needed the boost of a fabulous dress if she was actually going to attend the wrap party for Folly. Everything had been going so well since her return to town that she really hated to revisit the disaster. But she was damned either way. If she went, everyone would speculate there was more to the story, and they’d replay everything from Baltimore to remind the public how juicy it all was. If she didn’t go, they’d still replay everything from Baltimore, only this time it would play out as being so scandalous she didn’t dare show her face at the wrap party.

  She really wished there was a very good, very public reason she needed to be elsewhere tonight. Honestly, it seemed rather anticlimactic to attend a wrap party now, weeks after her involvement with the film had ended. But it would be rude to the rest of the cast and crew not to go. Plus, it was well-known that Dolfinn threw some of the best parties in the industry. If she wanted to be seen as a major player, she needed to be at the parties with the major players.

  Even if one of them was Finn.

  She’d spent a lot of time recently very studiously not thinking about Finn. It wasn’t helping all that much; her chest still hurt and her arms still ached. Like everything else, that would pass in time. I have to keep telling myself that. Pretty soon I’ll believe it.

  She wasn’t asking for the moon. She just wanted to come first with someone for once, before the film and the press and everything else that shouted for attention all the time. Years of therapy had given her acceptance as far as her parents were concerned, but she wanted more than that from Finn. She couldn’t live with anything less.

  Dolfinn had rented out one of the clubs on Sunset, and the band of paparazzi and fans staking out the doors turned en masse as her limo pulled to the curb. She checked her hair and put a smile on her face as the driver opened the door.

  Several photographers shouted her name, and she turned to pose and wave at the cameras. She even signed an autograph or two. Yep, this was her life. She was home.

  Why did it leave her feeling rather flat?

  Walter Farrell caught her in a hug as she walked inside. “Good to see you, Caitlyn.” He tucked her arm in his. “It was absolutely wonderful working with you. I’ve got a script I want you to read.”

  “Have your assistant send it over. I’d love to look at it.” Score one point. The director not only wanted to work with her again, he already had a project in mind. Enough people had overhead Walter’s words to ensure that info would make the rounds quick enough. Maybe her comeback wasn’t going to be as rocky as she’d imagined.

  Then someone was pressing a champagne flute into her hand, and the atmosphere became party-like. This was the part of wrap parties she really liked: the chance to actually meet the people who made it all work while they weren’t all busy making it work.

  When a rep from the distribution company pulled her aside to talk about a couple of opportunities beyond her normal press junket schedule, her personal disaster seemed to be paying off professionally. It hadn’t been fun, but maybe it had been worth it.

  Even Dolby seemed happy to see her. “I’ve sneaked a peek, and it’s fantastic. Make sure that new house has a mantel for all the trophies.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “And I’m glad you came tonight. Some people seemed to think you wouldn’t.”

  She’d bet Naomi—who was on the other side of the room, pretending she didn’t know Caitlyn was even there—was one of those people. Oh, she was glad she’d come, after all, if for no other reason than to tick off Naomi. It was juvenile, but she’d get her thrills where she could.

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

  Though she kept the smile on her face, Dolby’s comment had dampened the pleasure of the eve
ning for her a bit. While the hoopla in the press had died down, it did bother her that her peers and colleagues might still be gossiping about her behind her back. She could handle the changing opinions of the public, but professionally she didn’t want the taint and the awkwardness.

  The crowd was dense, the sheer number of people responsible for this project showing the scope and difficulty of getting this story to the screen. Thankfully, the crowd kept her busy and away from Finn. She couldn’t fully enjoy herself because the tension of knowing he was there and that she’d have to run into him eventually put a knot in her stomach.

  “Eventually” came a little quicker than she’d have liked. She was chatting with the armorer, who she’d worked with years ago on another film. Since the battle scenes had been filmed on the studio’s back lot in L.A., this was the first she’d seen him since. Mid-sentence, she saw Finn out of the corner of her eye.

  In black pants and a casual gray shirt, he looked like the star of the film instead of its producer. His hair had the perfect casual tousle that other men had to work to achieve, and the overhead lights caught the blond highlights. His tan was deeper; obviously he’d been back on the beach since his return. She couldn’t quite see who he was talking to, but he laughed at something and the smile nearly weakened her knees.

  All in all, he looked good enough to eat with a spoon in slow bites, and something inside her ached. It was beyond unfair to want something she couldn’t have so badly. And it hurt. She had the sudden urge to go back to London. It was much easier to get over someone when they were five thousand miles away—it was like ripping off the bandage quickly. The fact he looked so completely unaffected just rubbed salt in the wound.

  Being back here in the same town was just going to drag out the pain and make it even more difficult.

  She knew the second Finn spotted her. She could almost feel his eyes on her. But she would be safe for a few more minutes. She’d have time to prepare herself. It wasn’t as if Finn could just stop what he was doing and come over here—

  “Cait.”

  But I could be wrong.

  Very aware that everyone was watching and trying to listen, even as they pretended they weren’t, she forced herself to smile. She even managed to lift her cheek for the mandatory air kiss next to her cheek. “Finn. It’s good to see you. Dolfinn throws great parties.”

  He started to say something, but stopped, his eyes cutting to the crowd that was only just managing to pretend to be uninterested. She could almost see Finn change his mind about what he was going to say. That was a first.

  His jaw was tight, but his words were casual enough. “Are you enjoying being home?”

  “Yes, I am, thanks. I’m still figuring out where the best new restaurants are, but it’s good to be back.”

  “Try Intaglios on Santa Monica. You’ll like the fish.”

  She nodded, but the sheer inanity of the conversation had her biting her lip so as not to laugh. Finn noticed, and his jaw loosened a little as well.

  “And how are your parents?”

  It was a loaded question, but one she was prepared for. “They’re happy to have me home, of course, and looking forward to the premiere. They’re quite proud, actually.”

  Finn nodded in understanding. “Glad to hear it.”

  Their audience had noted their boring small talk and moved back to their own conversations once she and Finn didn’t deliver fireworks immediately. The noise level began to return to its earlier level.

  Finn dropped his voice a notch. “You look good, Cait. One of Julio’s creations?”

  “Of course. He’s certainly glad I’m back.”

  “You’re keeping a low profile these days.”

  She sipped at her champagne casually. “I’m trying to get settled. You know, get my bearings again.”

  “Planning your big splash?”

  Oh, she knew exactly what he was referring to. “I’m keeping all my options open at the moment.”

  “That seems like a wise decision.”

  “I have been known to make those occasionally. I try to learn from my mistakes.” She hadn’t meant that as a jab, but Finn seemed to receive it as such. She wasn’t going to take it back or try to explain, though. Retreat, however, seemed to be a viable and smart option. “I think I’ll go refill my drink.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” she snapped, and Finn had the gall to look offended. She quickly adjusted her smile and attitude so as not to attract attention. “Look, this really isn’t the time or place. There are too many people, too many cameras. I don’t want to—”

  “Come on.” Finn stepped to his left, out of the main room into a side hallway. When she didn’t follow, Finn’s mouth tightened and he returned to bend close to her ear. “You know I don’t care one way or the other who witnesses what, but I know you do. I want to talk to you—alone—and I have no problem carrying you out of here if I have to. Your choice.”

  It certainly wasn’t much of a choice. She was well aware Finn would do it, too, if she pushed him. Might as well get this over with. She’d let him say whatever was so God-awful important and then go about her merry way.

  She sat her drink on a table and squared her shoulders. “Fine,” she conceded, following him into the hall. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Finn pushed open a door directly to her right and nearly hauled her inside. She was sputtering with outrage as he flipped on a light and she realized they were in a storeroom of some sort. He closed the door behind him and stood in front of it, blocking any chance of escape.

  Getting her feet under her, she adjusted her dress back into place. “I swear, Finn, you are this close to getting slapped again.”

  “If it will make you feel better, do it.” He lifted his chin in a dare.

  Caitlyn suddenly realized how small and quiet this room was. Facing Finn while surrounded by a hundred people had seemed an impossible feat, yet she’d managed. But here …? There was barely two feet between them because Finn’s big body took up most of the space. She could smell him, feel the body heat radiating off him … She took a step back and found herself against a shelf.

  Trying to act casual, even if she didn’t quite feel it, she leaned against it and crossed her arms over her chest. Indicating the liquor bottles around them, she shook her head. “I’d end up breaking something if I took a swing at you, and I don’t want to add property damage to this fiasco. But it would serve you right if I did.”

  His voice and face softened. “Are you ready to talk to me now?”

  Stay strong. “There’s nothing to talk about, Finn.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Of course you do.” She’d meant it to sound snappy and sarcastic, but it came out tired instead. Damn. “There seems to be very little we agree on anymore.”

  Finn’s response was to kiss her. There was no warning, no time to think, just a flash of movement and then Finn’s mouth was on hers, his body pressing close. It was like throwing a match on a stack of kindling: a moment of stillness followed by a whoomph as it caught and burned.

  This was what haunted her dreams. The feel of Finn’s lips, the way the energy moved from him through her and back again. She could taste desire and want, but beyond that there was a feeling of calm and rightness. Which was wrong.

  Caitlyn broke the kiss and fought for control. “The last time someone tried that I brought him to his knees.”

  “You frequently bring me to my knees.”

  Finn rested his forehead against hers as she tried to process his words. His hands moved from her arms to grip the shelf on either side of her shoulders. She could easily duck under and escape, but for reasons that she didn’t want to explore too deeply at the moment, she stayed where she was.

  “And it was a risk I was willing to take,” he added.

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted
to remind you why you should listen to me.” He lifted his head from hers and grinned as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “And because I like kissing you. I’ve missed that.”

  “You are an arrogant, conceited—”

  “And you are stubborn, frustrating and …” he paused as he traced a finger over her jaw, causing her breath to hitch slightly “… perfect.”

  She’d done dozens of scenes where the hero said or did something that melted the heroine’s heart—and she’d pulled them off—but now she knew what it was supposed to feel like: a warm squeeze that tapered off into a shiver, leaving her heart in her throat and her eyes burning.

  She wanted to say something snarky and snappy, putting him in his place. The words wouldn’t come. “I don’t think I can do this, Finn.” Her hand was cupping his jaw. Once she realized it, she let her hand drop and looked away. “We’ve struck out twice already.”

  “Then we still have one more try.”

  “I can’t go through it again. It’s too much. Too hard.” Her voice cracked a little. “And it hurts too bad to walk away from you.”

  “Then maybe you should quit walking away.”

  She looked up and stared him down. “You’ve never given me a good reason to stay.”

  “I love you.”

  Caitlyn felt slightly faint.

  Finn watched the color drain from Cait’s face as her eyes widened. She even swayed a bit before she steadied herself. Maybe he’d gone a step too far. Maybe he’d misread the entire situation and gone all in on an empty hand.

  Either way, Cait wasn’t exactly showing joy at his spontaneous declaration.

  But she’d kissed him back, and was currently standing in his arms instead of bolting for the door, so that had to mean something.