by Alexa Aston
“I can be packed within an hour, Cassie, if that’s what you want,” Mimi said curtly. “If . . . they will let me into my room.”
Cassie cocked her head and listened a moment. Loud voices jabbering in Spanish floated from the kitchen. Immediately, she grasped the situation. She placed a hand on Mimi’s shoulder and squeezed it.
“You aren’t going anywhere, Mimi, other than the supermarket. Rhett mentioned not five minutes ago how he had a craving for your almond-crusted tilapia. If you wouldn’t mind running out and picking up a few fillets, I’m sure he would be delighted.”
When Mimi hesitated, Cassie said firmly, “I’ll handle Consuelo.”
Mimi frowned. “And the others?”
“The whole crew. I promise.” Cassie gave her a conspiratorial smile. “This could take a while. You might want to catch an early movie before you pick up that fish.”
Mimi nodded sagely. “I leave the situation in good hands, I see.”
“The keys are in the Rover. Take it.”
Mimi bit her lip to hide a smile but didn’t quite succeed as she left the house. Cassie took a deep breath and headed toward the kitchen. She marched in and stared down the group gathered around Rhett’s table. Cassie could hear Breck’s “Go, General!” urging her on.
Taking the offensive, she locked eyes with an older woman with graying hair who sipped on a cup of hazelnut roasted coffee.
“Hello, Consuelo.”
The soon-to-be former housekeeper eyed Cassie suspiciously. “Who you? I no know you.”
“I’m Cassie Carroll, Rhett’s assistant. You’re trespassing on private property.”
The three younger members sitting around the table murmured in low voices, giving Cassie dirty looks as they conversed rapidly in Spanish.
She let them finish before she charged ahead. “Fortunately, I’m from Texas and caught everything you just said. No, I’m not some cheap whore like Randal James, nor am I a blood-sucking cunt. I’m Mr. Corrigan’s executive assistant and speak on his behalf.”
The atmosphere crackled with anger. Maria, whom Cassie remembered was Consuelo’s daughter and Rhett’s former cook, shook her pudgy finger at Cassie.
“You no tell us to go. We work here. Like you do. Mr. Rhett tell you that. Go get him. You see. He make you say sorry.”
Cassie held her ground. “Mr. Corrigan had me hire new staff in your place. I’m sure your sons noticed how nice the grounds looked as you arrived. Ditto with the house. And Mr. Rhett is very pleased with his new cook.” Her jaw set as she studied them. “I won’t ask again. Leave now—or I’ll call the police and have you arrested.”
Both of the young men, in their early twenties, jumped to their feet, waving their hands. “No policía. No policía, senorita.”
Maria interjected, “Mr. Rhett like my cooking. He love empanadas and my casserole. He no make me leave.”
Cassie took a step forward. “You chose to leave, Maria. Over and over again, just like your mother and your brothers. Did you think Mr. Corrigan would continue to put up with that? All of you abandoned him with no notice. His patience has run out.”
She slammed a hand on the table. “I do the hiring and firing around here now and we have enough help. I’ll see that Mr. Corrigan gives each you an excellent reference but you will not be working here anymore. Lo entiendes?”
Consuelo reeled off a string of vulgarities in a mix of Spanish and English, growing more animated as she spoke.
Maria and the two men joined in, loudly caterwauling, their protests rising in volume.
“Enough!”
Rhett stood in the doorway, hands fisted at his sides.
Consuelo immediately appealed to him, rising from her seat and rushing to him.
“Oh, Mr. Rhett, I sorry, so sorry. We go to see Pedro, but he bad. Very, very bad. I tell him I leave him and send no more money. No more! We never go Mexico again. No good there.” She brightened. “I stay and Maria cook for you now. You no look good, Mr. Rhett. Maria make you soup and tortillas.”
Before Rhett could reply, Cassie stepped in. “No, you will not fix Mr. Corrigan anything. He just ate. You will leave the property and not come back.”
Rhett glanced at Cassie. “Sweetheart, that’s kind of harsh. Consue—”
“Rhett, just leave, okay? They know they did wrong and they don’t work for you anymore. I won’t have you put dependable people out of work simply because Consuelo and company got it in their heads to waltz back.”
“I can afford—”
“I know you can afford to keep everyone employed. It’s the principle of the thing. They were disloyal and disrespectful when they up and left with no notice, time and time again. They should not expect to be forgiven, much less step into their former jobs.”
He looked miserable. “Maybe I could help them find jobs.” He brightened. “Hey, Maria, Mr. Ken has always loved your cooking. Let’s see—”
She stood firm. “If they apply for a job, you can give them a decent rec. You don’t need to find it for them.”
Rhett took a deep breath. “You’re right, Cassie.” He looked at the entire crew. “I appreciate your help over the years but we’re going in a new direction.”
Maria stood and puffed her chest out. “You get rid of us, Mr. Rhett, because this puta say so? We be good for you, Mr. Rhett. We do things like you like.”
Rhett shook his head. “Cassie is going to be my wife, Maria. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s how to please my woman.”
Consuelo spun around and announced, “We go. No want to be here.” She gave Cassie a malicious look. “You be sorry.”
Consuelo snapped her fingers and the young men fell in behind her like trained ducks. They stooped to pick up duffel bags and backpacks and traipsed behind the women, who both held their heads high and noses in the air as they exited the kitchen.
The minute the door slammed, Cassie turned to Rhett. “Change that gate code now, Corrigan. You said you were going to and never have.”
“Okay.” He looked around. “Did they terrorize Mimi into retreating to her room?”
She put her arms around his waist. “Mimi is fine. In fact, she’s out for several hours.”
The gleam in Rhett’s eyes told her the next few hours would be well spent.
◆◆◆
Cassie puttered around her office as she booted up her computer, pulling out her stack of yellow legal pads with notes on scenes, characters, and random ideas. She and Breck had been e-mailing frantically back and forth yesterday. He’d sent what Cassie thought would be the penultimate scene in the movie. She read it quickly, tingling with anticipation as it unfolded.
She’d made a cup of tea and decided to read the scene again with fresh eyes. Breck had said she wouldn’t hear from him today, as it was New Year’s Eve and he had a few special things planned for Jolene, but he told her to monkey around with it. Cassie doubted she would change much at all.
She logged on and quickly glanced through her e-mail. Nothing stood out that couldn’t be answered later. She started to open up the scene but decided to do a quick glance at Hollywood! Online before she began. She’d been addicted to the site ever since she’d discovered it after moving to Hollywood and had to get her daily fix to feel like she was in the know.
It surprised her when Rhett’s picture came up in the news section. His very public break-up with Randi and fight with Zak was old news. What more could they milk out of the situation?
Reading the brief blurb that enticed readers to click over to the full story, her stomach clinched as she spotted the words Ponytail Girl. She brought up the column and scanned it quickly.
As usual, it was dead on. Sources reported her trip with Rhett to Javier’s last night. Since he’d been such a good customer in the past, Rhett called ahead and made sure the store was closed when they arrived so they could look at rings without being gawked at.
Cassie glanced down at the engagement ring resting on her finger, still surprised to f
ind it there. The marquise-cut diamond glittered as the sunlight struck it, smiling back at her. It made her want to doodle hearts on a piece of paper and write Mrs. Rhett Corrigan or Cassie Corrigan or I love Rhett all over the page like a middle schooler.
Her eyes returned to the computer screen and she continued to read, seeing she was identified by her real name for the first time. An unnamed source elaborated on how deep Cassie’s claws were sunk into Rhett.
Has our coolest A-list Hollywood Superstar turned into a lap dog? Rhett Corrigan’s peeps say yes. Totally. Ms. Cassie (Who Only Knows Who She Is?) Carroll has blindsided and bedazzled our fav action man (and you know how we love action men and their hot bods), turning Mr. Super Sexy into Mr. Balls Cut Off. We hear Ponytail Girl is running that house now, Sensational Legs and all. Hope all she gets from Mr. Hottie is that ginormous diamond ring. We would hate to see Rhett Corrigan turned into some nobody’s Boy Toy.
“Hey, working on the script?”
Cassie jumped and quickly closed the laptop as Rhett walked toward her. He reached for her hand and pulled it to his lips for a searing kiss.
“I love kissing the hand wearing my ring,” he murmured.
“Rhett, we—”
“—need to think about what to do tonight,” he interrupted. “It’s New Year’s Eve, Cassie Carroll.”
Rhett swept her to her feet and into his arms, dancing her around the room.
“Our first together,” he said, nuzzling her neck. Her knees went weak at his touch. Immediately, a throbbing began that needed satisfaction. Now. Yet the gossip column nagged at her.
“Rhett, we need to talk.”
“Hmmm.” His lips moved along her jaw and up to her ear. Shivers of pleasure trickled through Cassie’s body.
“Quit that. I’m trying to think.”
He grinned. “I like watching you try to think.” He kissed her. “But I like doing that more.”
“Rhett—”
“Give it up, Miss Carroll. Sex now. Conversation later. Then we can decide what to do later tonight.”
“No.” Cassie pulled away from him.
Rhett frowned. “What’s wrong?”
His cell rang. “Hold on a minute. Hey, Becky, what’s up?”
She watched Rhett’s expression change and it wasn’t for the better. His eyes darkened and his brow creased in a deep frown as he listened.
“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”
Rhett ended the connection. “I think I know what you want to talk about.”
“What did Becky say?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “The tabloids are having a field day today. Depends upon which one you read. You, my dear, have been crowned the new Wicked Witch of Hollywood. You’ve changed me. I’m not myself. You’ve manipulated me and forced me to turn my back on everyone—including my most loyal employees, whose asses you fired without a backward glance.”
Her eyes widened. “Consuelo went to the press?”
Rhett laughed. “I’m sure she made a little money on it. No big deal.”
Cassie threw her arms in the air. “How can you laugh about this?”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “How can I not? Sweetheart, this is life in the fishbowl. Our lives are an open book.”
He thought a moment. “As long as we stay here. I mean, come on. Some actors get out. Moved to where it’s quieter. Harrison Ford did. Michelle Pfeiffer. Donnie Wahlberg. Jeff Daniels. They gave their families a regular life. It’s that normal life we talked about.”
Cassie dropped her head on Rhett’s shoulder. “Your family is here, Rhett. You love seeing your mom and your sisters.”
He lifted her chin with a finger. “Baby, we wouldn’t move to Outer Mongolia. I’ll still talk to them every day. We can fly in and see them. They can come see us. I really don’t see relocating as a problem.”
He sat behind the desk and opened the laptop. Typing a moment, he said, “Come here.”
Cassie moved to his side reluctantly. “What?”
“Map of the US. Look around. Think where we want to live. We’ll keep this place so we have somewhere to stay when we’re in town or in case I film here, which is actually rare.”
Rhett tugged on her hand. “Where should we go?”
She glanced at the computer screen and back at Rhett. “Wherever you want, Corrigan. I’d follow you to hell and back. Not that we haven’t been there already.”
CHAPTER 29
Cassie sat on the sofa, TJ curled in her lap.
“Are you glad the script’s finished?” Jo asked. “I know I am. Breck was like a dog who wouldn’t drop a bone until he’s sucked the life out of it.” Jolene shook her head. “To tell you the truth, Cass, I’m proud of you both. Who knew you guys had that in you?”
“We already have several more ideas in the works, Jo,” she said proudly. “I think Breck and I were made for each other. As writing partners, anyway.”
“As long as I’m the one he takes to bed and fucks the living daylights out of every time, you’re welcome to him the rest of his day. Besides, when he’s banging away on the computer keys, it inspires me to work on my act.”
Jolene hesitated a moment and then said, “I was going to wait and tell you and Rhett together, but . . .” Her voice trailed off, the tone too mischievous for Cassie to stand waiting.
“Give it up, Jo.”
“I talked to my agent a few minutes ago.” A radiant smile filled her face. “He booked my flight to New York. I’m gonna be on Kimmel, Cass. Kimmel!”
Cassie whooped, causing TJ to flee the room. She hugged Jolene hard.
“I’m so proud of you! This is your big break, Jo. When will you be on? More importantly, what are you going to wear on national TV?”
“It’s next Thursday night. My agent says wear something that won’t distract from my monologue. Maybe we could go shopping together. You know I’m clueless when it comes to fashion.” Jolene took a deep breath. “There’s only one guest before me so I shouldn’t get bumped.”
“In less than a week, you’ll be chatting up Jimmy.”
“What do I talk about? What if I freeze up and that painful deer in the headlights look is on screens across America?”
She waved away her friend’s fears. “You won’t. I know you. Just go with some horror stories of our old apartment and the gang there. I’ve heard you milk that before.”
Jolene mulled over the idea. “Not bad. I used to do a bit about the drug dealers borrowing a cup of sugar and how the parking lot was a war zone.” She smiled. “I’ll start working on it.”
Cassie squeezed her friend’s hand. “You’ll be terrific. All your hard work is starting to pay off.”
“I think we’re all starting to hit our strides. How’s finding a director coming along?”
“I’m meeting with someone in half an hour.”
Jolene got to her feet. “I’ll let you get ready for your meeting then. Why don’t you and Rhett come over for dinner tonight?”
Cassie groaned. “You’ve never learned to cook, Jo. Unless you’re ordering take-out, why don’t you and Breck come here and let Mimi spoil us all?”
“You’re on.” She hugged Cassie. “Good luck with the meeting.”
She saw Jolene out and then made a stop by the kitchen to let Mimi know they’d have guests for dinner. Then she went to her office to pull some notes and file folders. She looked around, still surprised not to see the stacks of scripts that had been such a part of this room when she first came on board last December.
Things had definitely changed for Rhett in the last four months. Irv dumped him as a client after Rhett’s rounds of bad publicity. At least that’s what the canny agent said. Cassie and Rhett both knew it was because Rhett had finally pushed Irv to find him new and different roles. Irv saw his cash cow crashing and jumped ship.
Cassie offered to rep Rhett since she had experience from Manny’s office in drawing up contracts but she’d doubted anyone would take her calls, much
less meet with her. She was right. Overnight, Rhett Corrigan dropped off Hollywood’s radar. Scripts dried up with the exception of bad foreign-produced action movies, the kind that went directly to video.
Rhett reassured her that he had faith in both her and Breck and the script they’d tailored for him.
Cassie wanted to reward that faith. One of Rhett’s former directors, Mac Landry, put them on to Sandy Sanderson, a recent USC film school grad who’d premiered his first movie at Sundance to good buzz. Both Rhett and Breck told her to screen the young man for them. She could hire him on the spot if she liked him and save them another round of meetings, which had been endless and gone nowhere in the last month as the three of them had interviewed seven other directors. The only time wasted today would be her own—if it was wasted.
Cassie didn’t think it would be. She had a good feeling about Sandy Sanderson. Call it woman’s intuition or a gut feeling but his film debut spoke to her. She believed Sanderson had what they needed to get their script shot and delivered and showcase Rhett in the best possible light.
Cassie returned downstairs as the doorbell chimed. She waved Mimi away and opened the door to a short, stocky man in his early twenties, with dancing green eyes and a wave of sandy blond hair.
She held out her hand. “Cassie Carroll. Won’t you come in?”
The young director shook it enthusiastically. “Sandy Sanderson. Thanks for meeting with me.”
Cassie led him into the living room off the foyer and indicated for him to have a seat. TJ sat atop the coffee table, ignoring both of them.
The director wandered around first, taking in the furniture and paintings and knickknacks around the room.
“Great room. Comfortable yet elegant. Excellent light.” Sandy sat, his boyish grin and enthusiasm already pulling Cassie in.
“Let’s start by seeing if you liked the script,” she said. “There’s no reason to keep talking if you didn’t.”
Sandy beamed. “Liked isn’t the word. It was amazing, Cassie. Fresh. Suspenseful. Erotic. It kept me guessing. I’ve never liked predictable and your script kept me off-balance the entire time.”
