by Alexa Aston
Melanie embraced her. “It’s so good to see you. Happy birthday, Sydney. I know from Ken that the best gift will be getting this film in the can.”
“That’ll happen before I know it. Dad’s longtime editor, Sadie Sistern, has already started work, cutting the first part of it. She’s really pleased—and Sadie never admits to being pleased about anything.”
“How is your dad doing?” Melanie asked. “Cassie said rehab’s been going well.”
“He’s stronger every day. He’s been watching the dailies and has given me advice. Not much, but I gobble up every crumb I can.” Sydney looked to Cassie. “Where are the guys?”
“Doing guy-like things outside. They’re grilling steaks. Nothing fancy tonight. I hope you’re not disappointed. Just steaks, baked potatoes, and a tossed salad.”
“It sounds heavenly to me,” Sydney said. “Thanks again for having me over.”
“You do have one surprise,” Cassie told her. “Rhett insisted.”
“Okay.” Sydney glanced around the room.
“It’s in Rhett’s study. You can, oh, wait a minute.” Cassie pulled her cell from her pocket. “Hello? Hold on.” She covered the phone. “Melanie, would you mind getting the salad and dressings from the refrigerator and putting them on the table? Sydney, go grab your surprise. If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes.” She put the phone back to her ear. “I can do that,” she said and walked out of the room.
“I’m off to earn my supper,” Melanie said. “I’m glad I don’t have to sing for it. If I did, they’d throw me out since I can’t carry a tune. Be right back.”
Sydney turned and went down the hall to a bedroom that Rhett was using as an office this summer. The door was closed. She pushed it opened and stepped inside, looking on the desk’s top to see if some package waited there for her.
Suddenly, the door closed behind her. Sydney spun around and saw Dash standing there.
His jet black hair gleamed almost as much as the hungry look in his ice blue eyes. He gave her that sexy smile that she’d grown to love. Before Sydney could say a word, she found herself in his arms.
His hands ran up and down her back in lazy strokes as his mouth descended on hers. Sydney wrapped her arms around his neck and opened to him, welcoming the taste of him after such a long drought. His tongue plunged in, seeking hers, sending shivers through her. Dash drew her close, the heat from his body scorching her. Desire shot through her like a lightning bolt. Sydney clung to him, her fingers threading through his hair as his hands grazed up her arms and cupped her face. His kiss went from possessive to gentle as strong thumbs tenderly brushed her cheeks.
Dash broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. She breathed in his masculine scent, happiness bursting through her like warm sunshine.
“So, you’re my surprise.”
“Yeah.” He kissed her forehead softly. “It’s a landmark birthday. Thirty. I had to spend it with you. I’m sorry Cassie deceived you.”
Sydney gazed at him with all the love in her heart and playfully tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m not sorry at all.”
This time, she kissed him, long and deep, until he groaned. He pinned her against the closed door, raising her wrists above her head and capturing them in one large hand while his other dragged slowly down the front of her body. Dash teased her along the way as his mouth took hers again. Slowly, his hand came to her thigh and slipped under her skirt. He cupped her as she moaned.
Then he slid a finger under her panties and pushed them aside, slipping the finger into her. Another moan escaped as his finger and tongue began mimicking one another. Sydney grew lightheaded as another finger joined the first, finding her sensitive nub and stroking it until she began to shudder. She bucked against him as his fingers drove her into a frenzy. Her orgasm exploded like a comet streaking across the heavens, pouring from her like liquid honey.
Finally, her shudders ceased. Dash released her wrists and they fell to his shoulders.
He chuckled and knelt, pushing her thong down her legs and helping her step from them. Pocketing them, he said, “They’re a little too wet for you to keep wearing them. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.” His brows wriggled suggestively.
Sydney giggled. “I’m supposed to go commando the rest of the night?”
Dash shrugged. “Might make it easier. You know, in case we need to do this again.”
Her hands locked behind his neck. She pressed her lips to his for a long, searing kiss. As she pulled away, she said, “I have missed you so, so much.”
“Filming will be over soon, thanks to your quick direction and timetable. I won’t wait after that, Sydney.” He rested his hands on her waist. “You’re mine. I want the world to know.”
Dash reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “This is for you. I was going to give it to you earlier on the set so that’s why it’s not wrapped.”
“I don’t have anything for you.”
“We can work on that later. Go ahead, open it.”
Sydney did. Pulling back the tissue paper, she found a pair of diamond and emerald earrings. “They’re lovely,” she whispered in awe.
Dash held the box while she took out the gold hoops she wore and replaced them with his gift.
He gave her a hard, swift kiss. “Let’s go celebrate our joint birthday with some amazing friends. Then we can think about ways to enjoy it after we leave.”
Dash took her hand and led her back to the others. Four smiles greeted them as they returned. Sydney’s cheeks grew warm at the attention.
“Steaks are ready,” Rhett said, his eyes twinkling.
“Thanks to me,” Ken added. “I have mad grill skills.”
“Come on. Dinner’s waiting,” Cassie told them.
They ate out on the deck. Sydney couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night. Dash sat next to her, their thighs brushing, their fingers entwined. Melanie brought out an unexpected dessert that was a mound of the gooiest, most decadent chocolate that Sydney had ever put in her mouth.
“It’s from Ken’s favorite bakery on Sunset,” Melanie said when Sydney asked where it came from. “It’s his favorite cake from there.”
“I was glad to hear the two of you liked chocolate,” Ken said. “If you didn’t, I’d still have gotten Melanie to pick up one of these babies for me.”
“You would’ve eaten the entire thing and made yourself sick,” she told her husband. “It’s much nicer sharing it with friends.”
Rhett held up a fork laden with chocolate cake. “To Sydney and Dash. May this birthday be the start of many more together.”
Everyone raised their full forks in a mock toast. “To Sydney and Dash.”
They talked about everything except their careers. Sydney found it to be the happiest she’d been in a long time. She was doing something she loved. She was surrounded by good friends. Most of all, Dash loved her. Basking in the glow of his love was the best part of tonight.
Once dessert was finished, Cassie and Melanie offered to clear the table, telling Sydney to keep her seat since she was a co-guest of honor.
After the dishes had all been removed, Rhett looked at her. “Sydney, we’ve all grown to love you in a short time.” He grinned. “Maybe not as much as Dash but we really care about you. There’s something important that we need to discuss. Dash asked for my help today on something that I have experience with.” Rhett glanced to Dash.
He squeezed her hand. “Rhett recommended the security firm he’s used since he skyrocketed to fame. I hired them today. To protect you from Wake.”
CHAPTER 26
Sydney felt shell-shocked. Her entire body and brain went numb. She knew Dash was talking but had trouble concentrating on what he was telling her.
“How did you know?” she asked him, trying to collect her wits as everyone in the room stared at her. “The flowers came,” she said dully, answering her own question as she realized that was the only way Dash could have learned of
Wake. Embarrassment flooded her at how her ugly past might ruin things between them.
“They did. I found Brenda trying to ditch them and forced her to tell me what was going on.”
Sydney’s temper flared at her friend’s betrayal. She had trusted Brenda to keep her secrets.
Dash wrapped her cold hands in his. “Brenda loves you like a sister, Sydney. She wants to protect you.”
“We all do,” Rhett added, giving her a sympathetic look. “Would you mind if we bring someone in to talk to you about the situation?”
She shrugged in defeat. “You all know so you might as well.”
Ken spoke up. “Melanie and I don’t know anything that’s gone on, Sydney. I do know this business attracts a lot of crazies. You do what you have to do to protect yourself.”
Her eyes welled with tears. “This was before I returned to Hollywood. It’s about my ex-husband. He’s one of the biggest reasons I came back to California. I wanted to escape.”
Melanie stroked Sydney’s arm. “Rhett’s right. We all want to support you. Tell Ken and me to stay or go. Your call.”
Sydney’s teeth sank into her bottom lip. “Stay.” Relief had begun to flood through her now that everything was coming out. She’d lived in fear the last several months, along with the stress of her dad’s heart attack and the pressure from trying to direct her first film. Looking at the concerned faces surrounding her, she knew she didn’t have to go it alone anymore.
Rhett took out his phone and sent a quick text. Two minutes later, a stranger in his late forties entered the room. He was six feet in height and looked to be chiseled from stone. His steel gray hair was cut short. Dark eyes took in everything in the room in an instant.
“This is Bruce Kimball. He’s the head of the security team that’s been shadowing you today.”
She hadn’t imagined the car following her earlier.
Bruce extended his hand. “Nice to meet you in person, Sydney. Could you tell me a little about Mr. Marshall? I only have a few sketchy details from Dash.”
Sydney briefly reviewed her relationship with Wake—how they met, their marriage, and his cheating that caused her to file for divorce. She explained her move to Boston and then the off-the-cuff decision to return to California several months ago.
“Did Mr. Marshall ever follow you, either in New York or Boston?” asked Bruce.
“Not that I know of. A few times I got a feeling that someone was watching me. It spooked me but I never saw anyone. I haven’t felt that way since I’ve returned to LA.”
She detailed how she’d gotten rid of her cell phone on the plane and gone to court to have her last name revert back to Revere.
“I never shared any of my past with Wake. He had no idea I’d been married before or that I’d changed my name. All he knew was law student Sydney Brown.” Then she explained about finding the small device in Brenda’s carry-on bag after the first floral bouquet arrived in the spring on her former wedding anniversary date.
“We’ll send someone from our team to Brenda’s apartment tomorrow to examine it. What I want to do now is go over some ground rules with you, okay?” Bruce gave her an encouraging nod.
“Okay.”
“We’re keeping tabs on you at a distance. If Mr. Marshall should approach you at any time, stop in your tracks and respond to him only once. In a loud, firm voice tell him to stop following you or contacting you. If he doesn’t, say you’ll call the police. Then turn and walk away. Do not engage him in further conversation. By then, we should be there to take care of things.”
“Got it.”
“Have you received a large number of calls or texts from him recently?”
“No. I did get some over the last year and a half, before I got rid of my cell.”
“Good,” Bruce said. “Did he use any off-color language or threaten you in any manner in them?”
“His language could be pretty bad but Wake never exactly threatened me. Why?”
“That’s a sign of escalation on the part of a stalker. If he does send you anything from this point on—I’m talking a text, email, letter, direct message on Twitter, or even if he leaves you a voice mail—don’t delete anything. Documentation is important.”
Sydney said, “I’m not on Twitter or Facebook. Wake shouldn’t have my number at all. Like I said, he doesn’t even know my real name. Brenda and I think he believes I must live where Dash does since no flowers have been left at my dad’s house where I’m staying.”
“If Mr. Marshall increases contact in any way, we’re here for you. We want you to go about your daily routine for now.” Bruce fished a card from his pocket. “Program my cell number and the agency’s into your phone. Do you have any questions?”
“No,” she said softly, feeling drained.
“My advice for now? Since the floral arrangement came today, you shouldn’t be at Dash’s house in the near future or see him anywhere that’s not on the studio lot. I know you’d broken ties with him except at work. For now, please stick to that.”
Bruce stood. “My group started conducting our own investigation of Wake Marshall today. We’ll see where he is and if he’s been out of town lately, especially if he’s made any trips to LA.”
Sydney took a deep breath and pushed herself up on wobbly legs. She offered her hand. “Thank you, Bruce.” She glanced around the room. “Thanks to all of you.”
“Rhett has arranged passes so that my team can get through the Sampson Studios gates. We’ll have a small presence there but Mr. Marshall or anyone he’s hired shouldn’t be able to have access to you on the lot,” Bruce told her. “I’m sorry you’re having to go through such a difficult time. Hopefully, it won’t be for much longer.”
Bruce left and the Camerons also said it was time for them to get home. Both Corrigans walked them out, leaving Sydney alone with Dash.
“I guess we’ve got a little privacy to say goodbye.”
“Goodnight,” he corrected. “This isn’t goodbye, Sydney.”
“So much for a romantic thirtieth birthday for us,” she joked but her throat grew thick with emotion.
Dash tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His palm cradled her cheek. Sydney gave in to the moment and closed her eyes. She wished she could stay like this with him forever as he gave her a sweet, comforting kiss.
“Where should we spend our next birthday?” he asked suddenly.
Sydney opened her eyes. “Anywhere. As long as we’re together—and you promise to make love to me all night long.”
He smiled. “How about Paris? I’ve heard it’s pretty romantic. The City of Lights.”
“You’re on. Paris, it is.”
Dash kissed her again to seal the deal.
◆◆◆
Wake waited two blocks from Sydney’s house. Or at least the address Marker had given him a few months ago. The PI was no longer in the picture since Wake couldn’t pay him anymore.
Everything had fallen apart. It had started when Sydney left him. No woman could replace her and Wake had definitely tried to. Everyone from interns in his law office to a couple of women in his apartment building to trying out various hookers—but no one held a candle to his wife. Sydney had a sweetness and innocence about her that he yearned for.
When other women hadn’t worked, he’d tried drinking. Then gambling. The lethal combination had gotten him into hot water professionally and personally. He’d come into work hungover a few times and received a written reprimand from the managing partner. Then he’d missed a vital piece in a contract three months ago, which had cost his client millions. The client demanded that Wake be fired from the firm and the partners were only too willing to wash their hands of him. Word got out fast. The law community was incestuous. No corporate law office in Manhattan would hire him so he tried the smaller offices. Those also proved to be a bust.
Finally, in desperation, he tried the DA’s office. Even they turned him down. He didn’t have the resources to start his own office and wouldn’t have w
anted to work that hard to make a go of it even if he hadn’t lost what remained of his money in Atlantic City. Then his mother had a brain aneurysm. She clung to life for half a dozen hours, long enough to run up medical bills in the six figures from both the hospital and a plethora of doctors. She rented her tony townhouse, as he did his New York apartment, so he had no real estate to sell between them. By the time he settled her estate, he was far down the rabbit hole.
The final straw had been when he’d broken a tooth chomping down on a popcorn kernel while sitting in a porn theater. The pain hadn’t been the worst of it. Wake had to resort to going to a third-rate dental school, where a student under a professor’s direction would saw off what was left of the tooth and replace it with a crown. Waiting for the procedure, he’d skimmed through magazines that were over a year old. Frustrated, he tossed them aside and began watching the tabloid TV entertainment show blaring in the shabby lobby.
That’s when he’d seen Sydney. His Sydney. Except she wasn’t. She wasn’t going by Brown anymore. Instead, the story called her Sydney Revere. The reporter claimed she was the daughter of some longtime Hollywood director who’d gone down on the set of his latest film with a heart attack. Monty Revere was mending in the hospital after bypass surgery but the real story was that his daughter—who’d never directed a film, much less had a credit on a single film production—had taken control of the expensive production.
They flashed a picture of Sydney on the screen. Wake stared hard as he finally recognized her. The dull, lifeless brown mop of hair was gone, as were the huge glasses she’d always hidden behind. Sydney was tall and had a tendency to slouch. The woman on screen held herself with confidence. Rich, beautiful, auburn hair spilled about her shoulders. The green eyes mesmerized Wake. Yet he recognized bits of his Sydney in this one. She had the same generous mouth and smile. The exact cheekbones. Sydney had gone Hollywood and reinvented herself.
Anger flooded Wake as he continued to watch the story unfold. Apparently, his wife had lived an entirely different life before she’d met him, one she’d never bothered to share. Sydney Revere had been Hollywood royalty and had married an aging star while still in her teens. Then she’d disappeared off the face of the earth—until now.