by Lucy Monroe
Shock washed over his handsome face. "You never said anything."
"Yeah, it never came up. Until you told me you wouldn't mind us chatting about the day's work at dinner, I was still under the impression you barely tolerated talking about the movie at all."
"And you still asked me to invest." His tone said he found that incomprehensible.
"I needed to know. I guess I do now." No matter how much it hurt.
"That I'm not about to bankroll my brother's, or your career?"
He was not hearing her. Rock simply was not listening. "You really don't get it. You could have just said no, but instead you instantly assumed I was trying to use sex to manipulate you, and you keep talking like I'm asking for a heck of a lot more than that what I actually did. That right there tells me you're never going to deal with my career in a rational manner." She opened the door to leave.
"Wait a minute, Deborah. We're not done here."
"I think we are." She didn't wait for him to say anything else but headed to the room they'd been sharing since the beginning, her things having migrated from the guest room she'd been given to his room over the weeks.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tamping down the almost impossible to ignore compulsion to follow her, Rock stared after Deborah. He still couldn't quite believe she'd asked him to finance her movie. After one of the most amazing session of lovemaking they'd had to date. After he'd admitted unprecedented vulnerability.
He wasn't a cash cow.
He hit his chest with his fist, trying to dislodge the knot of pain there. Had he eaten something bad this morning?
Oh, to hell with it. He stormed out of his office, shouting his brother's name.
Carey and Marilyn came rushing toward him, together. No doubt they'd been lurking close by to see the results of his disastrous conversation with Deborah. Which meant they were probably aware of what Rock and Deborah had been doing before that.
And he could not care less.
Both looked wary as they stopped in front of Rock. "What?" Carey asked.
"Where's Deborah?" Marilyn demanded at the same time.
"What in the hell did you think you were doing?" Rock blasted his younger brother, ignoring his sister's question entirely.
"What?" Carey asked, rocking the deer in the headlights look. "What did I do?"
Rock wasn't buying it. "Getting Deborah to do your dirty work for you. Ring any bells?"
"That's not what happened."
Marilyn shook her head, like she was agreeing with her twin, but savvy enough not to say anything.
"Oh, really?" Rock asked, frustration riding him hard. "Then how is it that Deborah asked me for money to finish your movie and you didn't?"
Cary's hands fisted at his sides. "Because I thought there wasn't a single chance you'd say yes."
"We told her not to ask," Marilyn offered.
Rock rubbed the back of his neck. "She didn't listen."
"She said she needed to know she could ask." Carey was looking at Rock like he had done something wrong.
"I'm not bankrolling your career in Hollywood, Carey. You'll make it, or not, based on your own talent and ability."
"I never asked you to." Carey sounded stung, his gaze was wounded. "I don't believe Deborah asked you to do that either. "
"She's not the type," Marilyn agreed. "You overreacted, didn't you?"
"What type? The type to ask me for money? She did that."
"She asked you to invest in a movie that already has theater and video distribution contracts." Carey's eyes lit like they did when he really believed in something. "You might not double your money, but then again, you might triple it. You'll definitely make something back." Carey sighed, his enthusiasm dimming just a little. "Not like me when I got talked into investing in a poorly produced pile of crap without a single guaranteed distribution outlet."
"I earned my place in the world," Rock said, feeling a little like maybe he had over-reacted, but not yet ready to admit it. "Is it unreasonable of me to expect you two to do the same thing?"
"This isn't about us, Rock. Not even a little." Marilyn frowned. "What did you say to Deborah?"
"Besides accusing her of wanting me to bankroll her future?" Or as good as.
Carey shook his head, disgust on his younger face. "You didn't!"
Marilyn gasped. "Darn it, Rock, that was stupid! She didn't even ask you to be the only investor. Did she?"
"Oh, now you're the stupid one," Carey drawled.
Rock didn't bother to respond to his brother's sally, looking to Marilyn when he said, "No." Deborah hadn't asked him to be the new angel investor.
She'd asked him to consider putting some funding in the movie.
He had overreacted. Damn, if she had waited to ask until a time they hadn't just made love, maybe he wouldn’t have felt so used.
"She told you it was okay if you said no," Marilyn guessed. "I'm sure she did. Deborah said it didn't matter if you wanted to invest, she just needed to know she could ask."
"We didn't get to that point." They'd gotten just far enough for him to torpedo himself with her.
"You did overreact." Marilyn groaned, like the long suffering sister she wasn't. "I knew it. You have to fix this."
"Why?" He blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Rock didn't work on relationships. "She'll be gone in a matter of weeks anyway."
What would be the point of opening himself up to her when she was just going to leave him anyway?
"Because, you big dope, you want her to come back." Marilyn smacked his bicep. "We all do. She's good for you. She fits with us."
Carey was nodding like a bobblehead doll. "You gotta fix this, Rock."
"How do you expect me to do that?" Rock demanded, wondering if his younger siblings were right.
"Apologize!" Marilyn's tone said she thought he was a couple eggs shy of an omelet right then.
"Tell her you're sorry and you didn't mean it," Carey elaborated, his expression stern. "You owe her that, Rock, even if you don't want to keep her in your life. You can't treat people poorly because our parents let you down every day of your life until they died."
Rock knew the look of shock on their sister's face was reflected in his own. Carey never criticized their parents.
"That's not what this is about." Though Rock wasn't sure if he was lying to his siblings, or himself.
He was pretty sure the whole damn debacle was about their mom and dad and the way Rock had learned not to trust from them.
"Isn't it?" Carey demanded. "They sucked as parents. And maybe I got into drama because I was looking for a way to understand who they were. But now, I'm an actor because that's who and what I am. Having you as my big brother, a better dad than he ever was, that gave me the freedom to be this person. The freedom for everything."
Marilyn's eyes filled with moisture as she smiled at Carey. Then she looked at Rock. "That goes ditto for me, but I don't think Deborah's ever had anyone that mattered to her be okay with her being herself and nothing else."
"We're not in a relationship," Rock said, a little desperately.
"Stop lying to yourself, big brother. You wouldn't tolerate that from one of us." Her gaze softened, like she got that this feeling of vulnerability scared the shit out of Rock. "Not only are you two in a relationship, but it's the most important one you've ever had with any woman. Probably the most important one you'll ever have."
"Yeah, I think she's the one, Rock," Carey added.
Not helpfully.
"Glad you two think you've got my life figured out."
His sarcasm was lost on both of them, as Carey and Marilyn stood giving him identical significant looks.
He wished he could deny their claims. But he couldn't. Not without lying.
And Marilyn was right, Rock expected honesty from his siblings, even when it hurt. He didn't know what the future held for him and Deborah Banes, actor, but they had more than sex right now.
A hell of lot more, or it wouldn'
t have hurt him so much to think she was using him. And it wouldn't have bothered her so much that he'd thought she was using him if there weren't more feelings involved than sexual ones.
Damn it all to hell.
Refusing to let the tears burning behind her eyes fall, Deborah finished packing her case and zipped it up.
"What are you doing?" The sound of the guestroom door snicking shut accompanied Rock's voice.
Deborah turned and came face to face with the man himself. He'd crossed the room and stood a lot closer than she expected. She backed up quickly, needing distance between them.
Her legs hit the bed, so she sat down, scooting to the end, as far from him as she could get. "Don't be obtuse. What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Leaving."
"Give the man a dollar for his insight." Deborah made no attempt to hide her sarcasm. It was better than revealing her hurt.
Rock shook his head, his chiseled jaw set. "You can't leave."
"I'm pretty sure I can."
"No, it's not safe."
"What in the world are you talking about?" Not safe? What was that supposed to mean?
"Benji called earlier."
"They let Amos and Virgil go?" she asked with shock.
"No. They're still being held for the string of robberies."
Her brows drew together in confusion. "Then, why not safe?"
"He said they were hired by someone."
"Someone hired them to rob people?" She wouldn't have thought the men made enough with their sordid business to be part of some organized enterprise
"That's not the working theory." Rock shifted closer, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides. "Benji thinks, from things that were said in the overhearing of the police informant, that you were the target."
"That's ridiculous. If anyone was a target, it would make more sense it was you. I'm nobody, you're a multi-millionaire businessman."
"That's not what Benji thinks."
"Well, your friend, the sheriff, is wrong. There is no reason for someone to go after me. There just isn't."
"There's evidence to the contrary."
Why was he pushing this? He couldn't want her around on the daily. Not now. "You mean the overheard conversation between two cretins that probably couldn't tell their own asses from a hole in the ground? I'm not buying it."
Rock's eyes flared, like Deborah's comment surprised him. So, she swore. Big deal. The man couldn't expect perfection from a woman he thought would sell her body for her career.
And she wasn't feeling particularly tactful right now. In fact, she felt like her heart was splintering in her chest.
She just wanted him to leave, then she could finish gathering her stuff and go.
His sherry gaze bored into hers, speaking messages she knew she couldn't fool herself with any longer. "You agreed to stay here while making the movie, hot stuff."
"Don't call me that!" She took a couple of deep breaths, reining in her emotions. "Why would you want me to stay?"
He blew out a breath, dry-washed his face and let his head drop down, staying like that for several long seconds. Then he looked back up at her, his expression as vulnerable as she'd ever seen it.
If she could let herself believe the evidence of her eyes.
He reached toward her, then let his arm fall again. "I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have made it seem like I thought you were using sex to get what you wanted from me."
"I'd rather know the truth." He had thought that.
He appealed to her with his eyes, his body rigid with tension. "It was a mistake. I know that now."
"Why now? Why not thirty minutes ago?" She shook her head. "No. Never mind. It doesn't matter. That's where your brain went first. We both know it, now. And that, more than anything, told me where I really stood with you. I kept thinking we were building something, no matter what you said. I thought your actions said something else. Now, I know I was fooling myself."
And that hurt. Hurt so badly she just wanted to curl into a ball and grieve.
He dropped down to his knees in front of her, reaching for her hands. "You weren't being stupid."
"Oh, yes, I was." She put her hands behind her back so he couldn't hold them. It felt childish and completely necessary.
"No. We had…we have something." He ran his fingers through his dirty blond hair. "Something I've never had with another woman."
A couple of hours ago those words would have melted her. Now, she didn't trust them. She couldn't. She knew too well how easy it was for important people in her life to reject her for simply being who she was. "Amazing sex isn't what I'm talking about."
"More than sex."
"Don't!" She had to take a hold of her emotions again. "Don't," she said in a more modulated tone. "You were honest with me from the beginning. No matter what you think, I don't blame you for my own self-deception. But I'm not lying to myself anymore."
"Damn it, beauty, I'm trying to tell you. You weren't lying to yourself." He reached around her and pulled her hands forward until he held them trapped against his chest. "I don't know what happens after you wrap the movie, but what we have right now? It's more than sex. A helluva lot more."
Part of her wanted to smack him for saying something like that now when it was too late. When she knew that whatever they had, it didn't have a future. The other part of her marveled at how fast his heart was beating under her hand. He was nervous.
This conversation was important to him.
Because he liked the sex, she reminded herself. Hadn't he said that from the beginning. He'd agreed to let them film so he could have access to her. She hadn't believed that was why, but now? Now she knew how he really saw her.
But which of them was the whore when she would give herself to him for nothing and she'd told him so?
"Look, chances are we aren't even going to finish filming—"
"You don't know that," Rock interrupted her. "Art Gamble and Elaine Morganstein have access to more money than they're willing to admit. Those two have successfully funded over a dozen indie projects. They're not going to let this one fail."
She didn't ask how Rock knew that. He'd told her he had contacts in LA. He'd obviously used them to do some deep digging on the suits for this project. "I hope you're right. I really do, but new backers mean different production terms."
It could mean her name being taken off the production and editorial credits.
Rock inclined his head, acknowledging her point. "Maybe."
"Right. We've already lost a day of filming, what scenes do you think are going to get cut because of it?" she asked with all the cynicism she'd been trained to have in her decade following her hopes and dreams in Hollywood. "Not the big scenes Art is directing."
"You were supposed to direct a scene?"
"Two, but even if they're kept in, he probably won't let me direct them. Art will be focused on sticking with the schedule and production time is always longer with a new director."
"You really want to get on the other side of the camera," Rock said wonderingly.
What did he think she'd lied about that? She wasn't the one who pretended feelings she didn't have. "I'm not setting the world on fire in front of it."
"You're talented." He lifted one hand to his lips and kissed her palm. "You're beautiful." He did the same with the other hand. "You've got presence. You've got everything that makes a great actor."
She refused to let herself feel the warmth his words wanted to engender in her heart. If he believed that, he never would have accused her of using sex to convince him to invest. He would have believed she didn't need to.
"And I've been in the business since I went to university at the age of eighteen." She sighed, reminding herself that it wasn't Rock's fault if she lost her chance at production and directorial credits. This was her life and she had to make it work. "Ten years is a long time to work for a break that may never come."
"Some actors don't find their niche for twice that time in the industry
." He released her hands and rubbed her thighs in a comforting way that she wished didn't comfort her.
And darned if she didn't leave her hands where they were, though she curled her fingers into the slick cotton of his dress shirt. "And some find success on their first movie or television program."
"Any industry based on artistic expression is fickle."
"At best."
"So, you don't give up."
She felt her own eyes widening at his pronouncement. That's not the advice she expected, but it didn't matter. "I'm not giving up. I'm redefining what I want out of life. I'm done seeking success as an actor just to prove to my parents and sister that my choice to go to a performing art school over university and then law school was justified."
He let his head fall forward, their foreheads touching. "You don't have to prove yourself to anyone."
Like she didn't have to prove herself to him? He'd shown how untrue that was not a half an hour past.
She let her hands fall away from him, crossing her arms around her stomach. "That's easy for you to say," she said in a low tone between them. "I doubt there's a single person in the world you want approval from that you don't have it."
He looked up then, his sherry eyes dark with remembered pain. "My parents were always disappointed in me."
"Because you didn't want to follow in their footsteps?" How could any parent not see Rock for the amazing son he had been?
Even a couple as self-involved as his?
"They accused me of having a pedantic view of life more than once." And that attitude had hurt Rock, it was in his voice.
Despite their failure to provide safety and security for their children, Rock had loved his mom and dad. The gallery dedicated to their accomplishments showed just how much.
She couldn't stop herself from reaching out and cupping his face. "Even if it wasn't true, it makes sense. If they acknowledged the role you played in your family, they would have to admit how badly they messed up fulfilling the ones they were supposed to."
Rock looked away, hiding his vulnerability. Or maybe just trying to keep the pain inside. "You're probably right."
