“Oh, thank goodness,” she said, glancing up but not stopping the chopping motion. “The delivery didn’t come in this afternoon, and I had to send Jules out to the store. Wouldn’t have had dinner, otherwise.” She nodded at a spot on the counter next to where she worked. “You can just place it right there.”
Isaac followed her direction. “I didn’t realize you cook the meals around here. I thought you mostly delivered your tarts and that kind of stuff.”
Jessie grabbed a pot and scraped the chopped vegetables from the cutting board into it. “I’ve been considering taking on a more full-time role once Dale and Cindy retire. Tonight was going to be a bit of a trial run, but as you can see, it hasn’t exactly turned out how I’d expected.” She rustled in the paper bag and pulled out a handful of potatoes.
Isaac glanced toward the open doorway, itching to get back out to the entryway, but also not wanting to leave Jessie as she frantically tried to put dinner together. “Is…there anything I can do to help?” Isaac felt a bit guilty because he secretly hoped she’d say no. He wasn’t left disappointed.
“I appreciate the offer, but if I’m going to be tackling this thing during tourist season, I need to get used to the pace of things, especially because the place isn’t even a quarter full right now,” Jessie said, washing the potatoes and placing them on the cutting board. She began chopping them with anxiety-induced fervor. “I don’t know why they offer dinner, when they are clearly advertised as a bed and breakfast. But I suppose they don’t get the high ratings they do because of skimping out on their guests. At least they don’t serve lunch, or I’d be in big trouble.”
Jessie was rambling, and she continued talking about how she didn’t know how Leanne’s family had managed it on their own for so long. Isaac doubted she even noticed when he slipped out, anxious to check on Jules.
When Isaac approached the entryway, however, it wasn’t Jules who was talking with the suspicious man, but Leanne.
“I’m not going back to LA,” she was saying.
“Just hear me out. This is the big break you’ve been waiting for. Think about it—he wants your script, the one that was the reason you ended up in LA in the first place. And he wants you on set so you can make the necessary changes it needs during production.”
“Can’t he get someone else to do revisions?”
The man frowned, crossing his arms across his chest. “He only wants you. And I can guarantee it will be a big hit. You’d be crazy to say no.”
“Frederick…”
Isaac paused in the doorway, stunned into silence. This wasn’t going to end in a shootout. Because the man wasn’t a crazy ex-lover, or about to knock off someone who had double-crossed him. It was the arrogant screenwriter he’d heard so much about. The one who had sent Leanne running back home, determined to never be a part of the Hollywood life that she’d dreamed of.
But Frederick had come back for Leanne. She’d only been home a month, and somehow Frederick had found the person who could make all of her dreams come true.
“I invested two years of my life for this moment,” Frederick said. “You can’t possibly turn it down. Not after how hard we both worked for it.”
Leanne hesitated.
Isaac could practically see the debate waging inside her. He knew this was something she’d always wanted—always dreamed of. And now here it was, being presented on a greasy, expensive platter, in the form of Frederick what’s-his-name.
“At least give me a chance to think about it,” she finally said.
Frederick seemed to stiffen, but then gave a curt nod. “Do you have any rooms available?”
He wanted to stay there? At the bed and breakfast? That was enough to get Isaac moving again. He did not want that man any closer to Leanne than he needed to be.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable at the Starlight Resort just down the road?” he asked, approaching Frederick in the entryway. “I’m sure they have more of the amenities that you’re used to.”
Isaac thought he’d been doing Leanne a favor by stepping in. This was the man who had scarred her, after all, trying to make her into someone she wasn’t. Those had been Leanne’s own words. But the daggers her gaze threw at him told a different story.
“I don’t require much,” Frederick said. “And whatever you’re cooking smells delicious. It’s been decades since I had a home-cooked meal.” His stiff demeanor didn’t match his words, but he seemed determined to stay. And Leanne seemed determined to let him.
Which meant that she was seriously considering his offer. After all Isaac and Leanne had been through in the past month, she was going to leave again?
Jules spoke up, and Isaac hadn’t realized she’d been there. She sat half-hidden behind the tall desk. “I’ll get you checked in.” She turned to Leanne. “When I’m done, I need to check on dinner and see if Jessie needs any help. Can you show him to his room?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Isaac’s insides twisted. “Leanne, can I talk to you for a moment?” He nodded toward the front door.
She seemed annoyed at the request, but she gave Frederick a polite smile and said, “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as they were outside, her frown returned. “Abandoning a guest isn’t exactly a good way to maintain our reputation here.”
Isaac couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Guest?” he said, incredulous, waving his hand toward where Frederick was currently checking in to stay in the same building his girlfriend lived in. He liked being able to call Leanne that again—girlfriend—and had hoped that fiancée would be just around the corner. “That isn’t a guest. It’s the man who made your life a living hell. And now you’re treating me like I’m the bad guy here.”
Leanne took a couple of long, deep breaths, like she was trying to remain calm. She walked down the steps, pausing at the fancy black car. She spun back toward Isaac. “Frederick is the highest-profile guest we’ve ever had at our bed and breakfast. If he likes it and has a good experience, that could do wonders for our little place. He might write a review and sign a picture that I could place on the wall for other guests to see. People care about silly stuff like that. But none of that is going to happen if I leave him waiting longer than I already have.” She didn’t give Isaac a chance to say more, instead half-sprinting back up the steps, then disappearing through the front door.
Isaac stared at the spot where Leanne had just stood. Guess dinner was off.
Was she deluding herself into believing what she’d just said, or did she actually think that Frederick cared anything about her bed and breakfast? He wasn’t staying there because he found the rooms charming. Frederick was keeping Leanne close so he could better influence her decision.
And Isaac was afraid of what that decision would be.
The pull on his gut told him she’d already made it, whether she admitted it or not.
17
Leanne kept her smile in place long enough to show Frederick to his room and get him settled in. “Dinner is in thirty minutes,” she told him. “Breakfast is from seven to nine tomorrow morning.”
Frederick raised an eyebrow. “I always eat at ten-thirty, you know that. Before then, my stomach isn’t ready for digestion.”
Oh, yes, Leanne knew all about Frederick’s digestion. She’d had to plan many things around that man’s stomach.
She was tempted to tell him he’d just have to deal with it but managed to hold her tongue. What she had told Isaac was true. This could be an incredible opportunity for the bed and breakfast, even if Frederick was only there to convince her to return to LA with him. If that meant saving some food for him, so be it.
“You can bring it up to my room,” he continued. “Dinner too.” Frederick reached into his pocket, and Leanne thought he was going to give her a tip, but he instead produced a set of keys. “My suitcase is in the trunk.”
Leanne didn’t take them right away, a million thoughts racing through her mind, not the least of which was that this
wasn’t a five-star hotel, she was not a bellboy, and he could get his own damn trunk. But Frederick dangled the keys in front of her, his usual impatient expression firmly in place.
So she maintained her smile, though it was becoming increasingly difficult, and she took the keys. “I’ll be back with your suitcase. Is there just one of them?”
Frederick gave her a curt nod. “I only packed enough for one evening. We’ll need to leave by noon tomorrow if we’re going to catch our flight.”
The keys slipped from Leanne’s grasp, hitting the carpeted floor. She hurriedly bent down and scooped them up. “I told you I wasn’t going with you. This is my home.”
Frederick took a threatening step toward her, though Leanne knew he was too much of a gentleman to actually do anything. A rude and condescending gentleman to be sure, but he prided himself on his composure, and he rarely gave in to extreme emotions. Just the fact that he looked slightly angry told her that he must be boiling inside.
“I have given you everything you need to survive in an industry that is impossible to succeed in. Even after you left, as ungrateful as you were, I kept your name circulating in my social circles. And it paid off. I was approached not long after you left by someone asking to read your best work.”
“Yes,” Leanne interrupted, “but you never mentioned who the interested party is.”
Frederick didn’t seem ruffled by the interruption, like he would have been two years earlier. He must have finally gotten used to her unrefined ways. “He asked to remain anonymous, at least until things were finalized. Didn’t want the press to catch wind of anything. Very particular, this man is.”
All right. It was narrowed down to male producers. Which was nearly all of them. Great.
Leanne didn’t know why she cared who it was, anyway; it wasn’t like she was about to pick up and go to LA. Not after what she’d experienced there. She belonged in Starlight Ridge, where people didn’t pay attention to how much her shoes cost but instead actually cared about her thoughts and feelings. Not to mention that there was no way she’d leave Isaac again. She’d just gotten the love of her life back, and she knew there would be no third chances. So Leanne would pamper Frederick for a bit, get him to do a signed photo, and then send him on his way.
“I’ll go get your suitcase,” Leanne said, not wanting to discuss it further.
As she turned to leave, Frederick placed a hand on her arm. She had never seen him physically touch another person before, and the movement stopped her.
“This is a very important opportunity. For both of us. If you say no, there won’t be another one.”
Leanne’s childhood dreams flashed through her mind. The times she’d written plays for her friends and forced them to act them out, even when they didn’t want to. She’d told them her future depended on it. Was she really willing to give all of that up? Because Frederick was right. There wouldn’t be another chance.
“I understand,” she said softly, then stepped out of his grasp and hurried down the staircase. As soon as she was outside, she leaned against one of the pillars that connected the porch to the house. Her breaths were rapid, and she forced them to slow.
Leanne heard the front door open, and she was afraid to see who it was. It could be just another guest who needed some fresh air. Or it could be Frederick. She wasn’t ready to further discuss how she was throwing her life away.
“So,” her sister said, leaning against the pillar opposite Leanne, “that’s the great Frederick Berkheiser.”
Leanne gave Jules a weak smile. “Yup.”
“And he wants to take you back to LA with him so you can become the greatest screenwriter who ever lived.”
“No, he would never allow it,” Leanne said, throwing a smirk at her sister. “He’s the best, and I doubt he’d like it very much if I dethroned him. Though he does want me to continue his legacy, for some reason. Thinks that Hollywood is full of trash, and I’m a fresh voice who could preserve the art of screenwriting.”
Jules nodded, though she remained quiet, as if deep in thought. After a moment, she asked, “Is that what you want? To preserve the art of screenwriting? Or is that just Frederick using you for his loftier goals?”
Leanne had often wondered why Frederick had put the time into helping her like he had, but she hadn’t considered that he might be using her. Did helping her somehow raise himself and his career?
“I want to do what I love,” Leanne said.
Jules waved a hand, indicating for Leanne to continue. “Which is…”
Oy! Why was her sister asking such hard questions? Leanne closed her eyes. If she could do anything, what would it be?
Her eyes sprang back open.
“I need to surf.”
Jules blinked. “Sorry?”
Leanne tossed Frederick’s keys in the air, and her sister caught them around one finger. “If I’m going to make a decision between the home and man I love, and the fulfillment of a lifelong dream, I’m not going to be able to make it standing here, with Frederick breathing down my neck.” She ran around the corner of the house toward the back entrance so she could grab her stuff, but then stopped and jogged back. “Frederick’s suitcase is in the trunk, and he’d like his dinner delivered to his room.”
Jules still stood in the same spot, the keys dangling from her finger. “What, you’re just going to leave me alone?”
Oh, yeah, their parents weren’t home. She couldn’t leave Jules alone with how crazy the evening had already been. Leanne released a long sigh, trying to ignore the call of the waves. “You’re right. If I’m going to eventually manage this place, I can’t just up and run off whenever I feel like it.”
To her credit, Jules gave Leanne a pitying look. “You shouldn’t take over the bed and breakfast unless you want to—unless it’s part of what you love. Mom and dad would understand if you chose otherwise.”
Leanne raised a shoulder. “I guess that’s part of what I need to figure out. But that’s not going to happen tonight. Why don’t I grab Frederick’s dinner while you bring his suitcase up?” She tossed a longing gaze out at the ocean. The sun was beginning to sink, and she wished she was with Isaac, walking the beach. What she wouldn’t do for him to hold her hand in that moment, telling her everything was going to be okay. That no matter what she chose, she was enough.
Leanne balled her fists, sudden anger flaring up in her chest. This was all Frederick’s fault. She hadn’t been questioning her decision to return to Starlight Ridge. She had been happy with her plans to take over the bed and breakfast—something she’d always looked forward to—and she’d been happy with Isaac. The town had been right. They were meant to be together.
And yet, Leanne had bailed on Isaac without a second thought, and all to cater to Frederick. To keep him happy. This was a soundtrack that seemed to be stuck on repeat. Though this time it had been the success of the bed and breakfast on her mind, it didn’t change the outcome. Her choosing something else over Isaac—and her being left alone.
“And to think you were going to try to make a go of the hospitality industry,” Frederick said, sniffing at the pastries on his plate. “At least these seem edible.” Jessie’s pastries sat next to a bowl full of cantaloupe and an omelet that Leanne had made especially for him. Everyone else staying at the bed and breakfast had eaten pastries and fruit in the guest dining room, but Frederick had insisted Leanne deliver him an omelet. Even that wasn’t good enough, though, because she hadn’t made it with egg whites only, which, according to Frederick, was the only way to make an omelet.
As Leanne took the verbal beating, she began having doubts that she’d get that glowing review she’d been looking forward to. Or the autographed picture. “It’s a perfectly good omelet,” she said. “I doubt Jessie used only egg whites in the pastries.”
“Great,” Frederick said, wrinkling his nose. “Now the only thing I can eat here is the cantaloupe.” He walked across his room and placed the plate on a small desk that sat against the wall.
“While I eat what I’m able, go gather your luggage. I’d like to leave within the hour, and that will leave just enough time for your usual emotional breakdown.”
Leanne stood rooted to the spot. “I already told you. I’m not going.”
Frederick harrumphed, like he’d already heard what she had to say a million times. Which he had, and ignored it. “You want to start the breakdown before you’ve even left the doorway? Fine. You may tell me how you belong in Starlight Ridge, and of your small-town dreams to run your family’s business. There’s probably a man involved, as well, I’d assume.”
Leanne folded her arms across her chest. Yes, she had been about to reiterate all of that. But she couldn’t now that Frederick had stolen the words from her. So she opted for a scathing glare accompanied by silence.
“All right, if you refuse to continue where I left off,” Frederick said, “then allow me. You could tell me about all of your dreams, but you’d conveniently leave out the one that brought you to LA in the first place. When I first met you, you told me how you’d dreamed of being a screenwriter, even as a child. You wanted to write the stories that others would perform. And not just the silly little plays in your backyard. You wanted to write stories that mattered—that would change lives.”
Dang it. He was using her own words against her. Still, Leanne refused to say anything further, her eyebrows drawn tight.
“It took longer than you’d wanted to achieve that dream. You didn’t have the fortitude to stick it out.”
Okay, that one hurt.
“I didn’t give up on you, though. Even after you left, I found the person who could realize your dreams, but you’re like a puppy with its tail between its legs—too scared to do what needs to be done.”
Now he was playing to her pride. Frederick wanted her to prove to him that she wasn’t scared—that she could do what was required.
Resisting Love Page 14