by Alexa Aston
“When did you get so wise?” she asked. “I’ve only realized it myself. I do love what I do but my heart wants a family. Love.” She paused. “My biological clock started pounding in my head recently. If I’m not fortunate to find love quickly like Keely or London, I may try to go it as a single mom. Would you be okay with that?”
He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m good with whatever you do. You know Cassie and I will support you in any choice you make.”
Scarlett pulled away and grinned. “Even babysitting?”
Rhett laughed. “Especially babysitting. Cassie would’ve had a dozen babies if she could have. Unfortunately, her insides didn’t cooperate. Still, we’re blessed with our two.” He brushed her hair from her cheek. “You will make a fantastic mom, with or without a man, but let me think about it. Between all our friends, maybe we can set you up with someone.”
“No blind dates for me, big brother,” Scarlett proclaimed. “I’ll either find a guy on my own or pick a sperm donor from some glossy catalog. Right now, I’m thinking smart, a little smart assed, and athletic.”
Rhett laughed. “Who knows? Maybe Wynn Gallagher is meant to be your plus-one in life.”
◆◆◆
Wynn passed his keys to a starstruck valet and entered the Montrelle. A thin blond with a clipboard stepped in front of him.
“Mr. Gallagher? I’m Amy,” she said brightly. “May I escort you to your bungalow and go over tonight’s schedule with you?”
He gave her friendly nod. “Lead the way.
They entered the luxury hotel’s lobby and crossed it, veering off to the right and down a hallway that led back outside. Lush landscaping surrounded the pathway, dominated by pink bougainvillea.
“You’re in Bungalow Nineteen.”
I was nineteen the year Mom and Dad died.
“The silent auction starts at six and will close at ten this evening. Items are located on the perimeter of the ballroom and outside it. Cocktails will be served at six-thirty in Salon B.”
Amy swiped the keycard and opened the door of the bungalow, gesturing for him to enter before her. Wynn stepped in and she followed, handing him the card.
“Everything takes place on the mezzanine level. Dinner is at seven in Ballroom A, directly across from where you’ll have cocktails. The casino party is from eight until eleven in Ballrooms B and C.” She beamed at him. “The Montrelle is delighted that you decided to attend tonight’s festivities, Mr. Gallagher. In case you want to entertain in your bungalow tonight, iced champagne and an assortment of fruits and cheeses will be delivered at ten this evening.”
Wynn started to tell her not to bother but hesitated. He didn’t plan on spending the night at the Montrelle but who knew what kind of opportunity might arise tonight.
“That sounds fine, Amy. Anything else?”
“No, sir.” She passed a laminated card to him. “This contains the schedule for tonight’s events.” Next, she gave him a brochure. “This lists all the items available in the silent auction. You’ll be situated at Table One with Mr. Corrigan. If you need anything tonight, please ring the front desk and they’ll contact me.”
“Thank you.” Wynn escorted her to the door and saw her out before sinking into a striped sofa.
It amazed him that he’d actually gone through with it and come. Of course, with all the trouble Cady must have gone through to get him at the head table, he knew if he didn’t show up, his sister would serve his head on a platter. She did so much for him. Maybe he could bring her some kind of souvenir from tonight.
He wondered what Rhett Corrigan would be like. The actor had a reputation for always knowing his lines and treating everyone in the cast and crew with respect. He also was known as a family man, with a tight circle of friends that included both actors and non-Hollywood types. Wynn wondered why Rhett had started a cancer research foundation. Most likely, he would find out tonight.
Reaching for the remote, he clicked on the TV and found the Dodgers game. It was late August and they were still in the hunt, tied for the division lead. When the game went to commercial, Wynn picked up the brochure and glanced at the items available for bidding, thinking he might find something for Cady. Quickly, he saw no low end items. They ranged from luxury cars to jewelry to several fantastic vacations. One that caught his attention was a trip to England. It included four days spent sightseeing in London and then another seven on a walking tour through Kent and the Cotswolds. Wynn had never been to England and this appealed to him immensely. Though a mathematician at heart, he had a deep love of history and would enjoy seeing all the places mentioned in the description. To walk through the peaceful English countryside without a care in the world called to him.
He would bid on this. No, he’d win it. The tax write-off would be nice and the money would go to a good cause. If he had to do the damned superhero movies, the least he could do is have this waiting for him when filming ended. Maybe he’d even find a cottage in a remote spot and buy it. In Cornwall, like Gabriel Allon in the Daniel Silva books. Wynn could try living in solitude for a year. No acting. Just walking. Reading. Swimming. Thinking. He owed it to himself after the nonstop ride he’d been on for almost fifteen years.
Glancing at his watch, he saw it was six-forty. He hadn’t planned on attending the cocktail hour but he better make his way down to the ballroom for dinner. He slipped the keycard into his jacket pocket and followed the path back to the main hotel. An escalator took him up the mezzanine. Clumps of well-dressed people stood with drinks in hand while others made their way into the ballroom. Wynn followed them inside.
“Mr. Gallagher?”
He turned and saw a young woman in her mid-twenties, with a freshly-scrubbed looking face that pegged her as a Midwesterner.
“I’m Sarah Hartnett, an assistant with the Corrigan Foundation. I’d be happy to escort you to your—”
“That’s not necessary, Sarah.” A tall, rail-thin woman with sleek hair and bedroom eyes stepped up and offered her hand. “Miranda Jones, Mr. Gallagher. I’m head of Rhett’s foundation.”
Wynn shook it and made a point to lean around Miranda and say, “Thank you, Sarah. I’m sure you had difficulty with my eleventh hour seating request. I appreciate you making it happen.” Wynn knew it wasn’t the Mirandas of the world that did the heavy lifting. It was their assistants who rarely received recognition for their efforts.
The assistant flashed him a grateful smile. “It wasn’t a problem, Mr. Gallagher.” She turned away.
Miranda slipped a hand through his arm. “You’re this way, Mr. Gallagher.”
“Wynn,” he prompted, though he didn’t like how this woman had swept in and brushed off her assistant.
“Wynn then. We are delighted you could make it tonight.”
Inhaling her strong perfume almost made him gag but Wynn was an actor above all else. He engaged in small talk as they crossed the large ballroom and Miranda delivered him to the head table, where several people were taking their seats.
“I hope to see you at the casino party,” Miranda purred. She released his arm and strutted away.
The evening’s host rose from his chair. “Rhett Corrigan.” He offered his hand and Wynn shook it.
“Wynn Gallagher. It’s truly an honor to meet you.”
“You’ve made a successful transition from small to big screen, unlike many actors. That’s no small feat,” Rhett complimented.
“And you broke out of your action mold to do the kind of films you wanted to make. You’re a role model to me, Rhett.”
The actor looked pleased. “Thanks, Wynn. I know I’m going to sound like a fan—and I am—but could we take a selfie together? My kids adore Carbon Man. My stock would rise sky-high in the Corrigan household if I were standing next to you.”
Wynn laughed. “Not a problem.”
Rhett slipped out his camera and took the shot. “Thanks. The kids are too young to see most of my movies so they don’t know how cool I am. To them, I’m just the old gu
y who embarrasses them.”
He laughed. “I hate to tell them but I’m not cool, either. Carbon Man is the cool guy.”
“Hello, Wynn.” A beautiful woman with copper hair appeared at Rhett’s side and he slipped an arm around her waist.
“Wynn, this is my wife, Cassie.”
“I’m a great admirer of your work,” Wynn said. “You’ve taken Hollywood by storm this past decade.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m impressed by your resume, as well. Both of your TV series were favorites of mine and as Carbon Man, you’ve brought some subtle nuances to the stereotypical action hero. Don’t get me wrong. I like action in a film but you’ve shown some moments where the audience can see a great vulnerability within you. It’s a struggle that others can relate to. Not obvious, but it’s there if you look deep enough.”
Her remarks caught Wynn off-guard. “I’m grateful you’ve noticed. I’ve fought hard with each director trying to humanize Carbon Man and make him different from the usual superhero. Not many people notice. They’re all about the explosions.”
Cassie looked at him thoughtfully. “When your commitment to Rylon ends, come see us at RCDS. Breck O’Dell and I have just started writing something. I can actually see you in it. We’ve had a little trouble with the direction we want to take it.” She paused. “In fact, come meet with us next week. We could have dinner. Breck’s in Vegas now because Jo is doing a three-week stand on the Strip. He could easily miss one show and fly in to meet you.”
Wynn’s heart pounded fiercely. “You’re serious. You just met me and want to take a meeting regarding a future movie.”
Cassie shrugged. “I like your work. I read people well. I think you want more than being Carbon Man. Maybe Breck and I could help with that.”
“About that,” Wynn began. He glanced to Rhett. “I read an article featuring your sister. I’m in need of an entertainment lawyer. The thing is, I’m tired of being Carbon Man. I’d do pretty much anything to get out of my contract.”
Rhett’s brows shot up. “I see.” He glanced over Wynn’s shoulder. “Say no more.” He reached out a hand. “Scarlett, I’d like you to meet Wynn Gallagher. He’s in need of representation. It sounds like it could be messy and impossible.”
Scarlett Corrigan flashed Wynn a smile. “My favorite kind of client.”
CHAPTER 3
Scarlett shook Wynn’s hand. An electric buzz traveled up her arm with the contact while his piercing green eyes studied her. She’d never experienced a stronger physical attraction in her life. Wynn Gallagher was at least six-four. With her height and love of heels, they were at eye level. His tailored tuxedo only made her want to see what was under it. She blinked, trying to pull herself together.
“Nice to meet you, Wynn.” Thank goodness her voice sounded normal. Even if her insides had started to run like jelly.
“I’ve read terrific things about you, Scarlett.” His penetrating gaze caused her cheeks to warm. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d blushed.
“Only believe half of what you read,” she said coyly, reluctantly pulling her hand from his. “Have you met everyone at our table?”
“Only your brother and Cassie.”
Scarlett took a deep breath and glanced around. “People are taking their seats.”
Wynn pulled her chair out for her and then took the empty one beside her. Scarlett turned and saw everyone at their table looked on with interest. Too much interest, truth be told.
Turning to her right, she indicated the first couple. “Meet my best friend, Keely Kennedy, and her husband, Mac Randall.”
“A pleasure,” Wynn said politely. Scarlett knew Wynn had to know Keely’s work but Mac would be a mystery. His first film would be released in two weeks—then everyone in America would know exactly how talented Mac was.
“And this is Knox and London Monroe,” she continued.
“I have every CD of yours,” Wynn told London. “Even the lullabies. They’re great for putting big people to sleep, too.”
London smiled. “Thank you so much.”
Scarlett gestured across the table. “Last is Dash DeLauria and Sydney Revere.”
Sydney eyed Wynn with interest. Scarlett knew exactly what that look meant. No one could work a crowd like Sydney, who was always on the lookout for new talent—or convincing known talent to part ways with other studios.
“If you’re ever interested in doing something beyond Alpha Tharra, let me know.”
“I’m a step ahead of you, Syd,” Cassie teased, holding up her cell. “I just set up dinner with Wynn, Breck, and me for next Wednesday. If that works for you, Wynn.”
“I’m free and would be happy to meet then.”
Sydney’s intrigue grew. “Is this about the new screenplay you and Breck started last week?”
Cassie nodded. “It is. We’ve been struggling to get a grip on the lead and his narrative. I think working with Wynn in mind might give us a definite direction.”
“Maybe this better be an RCDS meeting,” Rhett suggested. “Everyone could come to our place for dinner and talk about Wynn possibly working with us.”
“I haven’t discussed business with Wynn yet but that would be a conflict of interest for me,” Scarlett interjected.
“How so?” Wynn asked.
“I represent RCDS in all of their negotiations,” she explained. “I can’t also rep you if you move into contract talks with them.”
“We’re not that far along yet,” Cassie reminded her. “This is just an exploratory meeting. You could still take on Wynn as a client. Down the road, if we choose to work together on a project, one of the partners in your firm could negotiate on his behalf, while you still repped him in other matters.”
“I’m fine with that,” Wynn interjected quickly. Looking to her, he said, “Maybe we could meet Monday and talk about you representing me.”
“I’m curious,” she began. “You’re a big name, Wynn. Who currently handles you?”
“My brother, Del. He’s a great attorney and the finest man I know but he specializes in family law. With the direction I want to move in, I need an expert in entertainment law.”
“Excuse me,” Rhett interrupted. “Miranda’s frantically motioning me to begin.” He rose and headed toward a microphone.
Scarlett opened her clutch and withdrew her card. Handing it to Wynn, she said “I don’t have any openings Monday. Call my assistant so we can set something up.”
“Are you busy for lunch on Monday?” Wynn asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Let’s do a working lunch,” he suggested. “My problem is pretty pressing. I need it solved next week. I’ll bring takeout to you so you won’t even have to leave your office.”
“Okay,” she said, wondering what huge problem haunted megastar Wynn Gallagher and what the urgency was involving it. She turned to give her attention to her brother.
Rhett looked over the crowd and gave his megawatt smile. “Good evening, everyone. I’m grateful to each of you for coming tonight because your presence at this event drums up publicity we need. Your generous donations are also appreciated as we continue the fight to end cancer. One hundred percent of your dollars go toward research.”
Wynn leaned close to her and Scarlett inhaled the subtle cologne he wore. “How can everything go to research?” he murmured into her ear, causing a shiver to ripple down her spine.
She turned and whispered, “Rhett funds everything else out of his own pocket. Employee salaries. Office space and overhead.” She sat back up, Wynn’s spicy scent lingering in her nose.
“Many families are touched by cancer,” Rhett continued. “Or I should say invaded by cancer because it is a sneaky, vicious enemy. My sister, Carreen, battled breast cancer successfully almost ten years ago and she’s the inspiration for this foundation. Today, Carreen is still cancer-free—and the only battles she fights these days are with her two teenagers.”
Appreciative laughter rippled across t
he room.
Rhett’s expression turned serious. “My mother, Nadine, wasn’t so lucky. Four months ago, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, one of the deadliest of cancers. It’s hard to detect because it can be hidden deep in the back of your abdomen. Mom had a little abdominal pain but brushed it off to being lactose intolerant. She lost some weight without trying but told everyone she was happy to get rid of a few pounds. By the time she became jaundiced, we knew something was wrong and sought immediate care. We found she was in Stage Four. That the cancer had spread and it was too late to eliminate it.”
He paused and Scarlett held her breath, hoping Rhett could get through this.
“Despite the best efforts of her amazing doctors and her strong will to live, Mom lost her battle two months later. Every morning I wake up, I’m hit anew with how heavy my heart is because Mom isn’t here to interact with her family. Her kids. Her grandkids. She was a vibrant, interesting woman who helped make me the man I am today. I miss her more than I can say.”
Scarlett felt her throat thickening with tears. She gripped her hands in her lap.
“I don’t want others to miss their loved ones. With your help, we will find a cure—and share that cure around the world.”
Resounding applause broke out. Scarlett wiped away a tear before it fell. Her mom had been her biggest cheerleader, whether it was watching her daughter compete at a track meeting or urging her to apply to law school. Like Rhett, Scarlett had been heavily influenced by their mother and she missed Nadine Corrigan every day.
It surprised her when Wynn’s hand found hers. He squeezed it gently. She looked at their joined hands and comfort filled her. Wynn released her hand but something lingered. Something different.
Scarlett wondered where her acquaintance with Wynn Gallagher might lead.
Rhett concluded his remarks and returned to the table. As everyone congratulated him, Scarlett switched her salad and dessert plate and took a bite of the cheesecake.
“Do you always go for dessert first?” Wynn asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his very sexy mouth.