“Have you lost your wee Scottish mind?”
“I—”
“Of all the stupid, irresponsible—” Garrett threw his hands up. “Why? That’s what I want to know. I know the rule stating no consorting with the cast is unwritten, Hamish. That doesn’t make it any less important.”
“I know, Garrett. I didn’t set out to fall in love.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I don’t expect you to understand. I’m not sure I do.” Hamish gave Garrett a helpless shrug. “Things started innocently enough.”
“Don’t they always?”
“I guess I deserve the sarcasm. How often have we derided the idiots who start on set affairs?”
Assuming the question was rhetorical, Garrett kept his mouth shut.
“I know that look.”
Garrett simply raised his eyebrows.
“You think I’m an idiot.”
“I believe the words stupid and irresponsible have already been used,” Garrett said. His anger was fading. Instead, he was baffled. “Let’s put aside the reasons why this is a bad idea. When the hell did you have the time?”
“When we were on location.”
Hamish flopped down on the leather couch. He tapped his left foot to an uncertain rhythm. Nerves, Garrett thought. That little telltale tick that only someone who knew the man well would recognize.
“Without anyone noticing?” Garrett was impressed. There was nothing as insular as a movie set — especially one miles away from civilization. You couldn’t pick your nose without it becoming news.
“We only talked,” Hamish said. “A few kisses. Last night was the first time we…”
“Fucked?”
“Made love,” Hamish corrected.
Garrett wanted to pound his head against the wall. Hell, he wanted to pound Hamish’s head. Anywhere. This was not good. Right now, everything was sunshine and cotton candy. The chances of it staying that way until they finished shooting were next to nil. Lynne might believe she was in love. Hamish certainly did. When she became bored and turned her attention to a hunky extra or an adoring crew member, then what? Shit? Meet fan.
Unfortunately, Garrett was in a no-win situation. Telling Hamish his love affair would end in disaster was the fastest way to lose a friend and alienate his Assistant Director. Keeping his mouth shut meant dealing with the inevitable fallout. There was no choice. He would keep his fingers crossed love in bloom didn’t wither until after he called a wrap on Exile.
“Keep it low profile,” Garrett said.
“Thanks, man.” Hamish jumped up, a bundle of anticipatory energy. “Are we done for the day?”
“Go.”
When he was alone, Garrett sighed. There was work to do. Nothing stood still on a movie shoot. The script was solid. Barring any unforeseen disasters, they would finish ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, there were always problems. It was part of his job to limit the frequency and severity. The big bonus was, there were no location shoots left. Blue screen. Special effects. A few intimate moments between his stars. Post-production would take over a year. Exile would be a tent-pole release summer after next. A blockbuster — fingers crossed.
As problems went, Hamish and Lynne were an annoying headache, not a migraine. Publicity could handle the mess — if necessary.
Garrett turned on his phone, checking missed calls and texts. Carved in stone rule: No phone calls during dailies. He didn’t want the distraction. Also, in a life where his phone was a vital tool he was never without, it was nice to have an excuse to tune it out for a few hours.
Most of the messages he ignored. Reminders from his PA about meetings — time and place. Wyatt needed five minutes. When didn’t he? Dad’s birthday was coming up soon. That was a can’t-miss event. Garrett bought the present months ago when he was in Costa Rica. Caleb Landis loved wildly colorful shirts. It was a quirk his sons indulged. At one time, they had contests to see who could find the most outrageous print. Now, his closets stuffed, the Landis boys only purchased an addition to the collection when they stumbled across something unique. Garrett couldn’t wait to see his father’s face when he opened the package. Hula-hooping pink crocodiles. He’d snatched it up the minute he saw it.
Garrett’s smile morphed into a thoughtful frown when he came to a text sent that morning. Jade. His heart rate kicked up. Even the thought of her made his mouth go dry and his dick harden. He had a lot of nerve questioning Hamish’s judgment when his own was so messed up. He wanted Jade. Any way he could have her.
With a sigh, Garrett typed a response. Yes. His thumb hesitated a second then hit send.
Garrett leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes, rotating his head from side to side. So much for changing the status quo. He was stuck because there was no choice. There hadn’t been from that day six months ago when he saw her again. He didn’t regret his decisions. That would mean removing Jade from his life. Forgetting her taste. The way she felt in his arms. The sounds she made when he brought her to an orgasm. Life with Jade was frustrating. Life without her? Unthinkable.
CHAPTER FIVE
SIX MONTHS EARLIER
GARRETT HEARD THE whispers.
Do you think what they say is true? I heard she almost bled to death. She almost didn’t make it. I wonder what she did to make her husband want to kill her.
The ignorance in that last sentence made Garrett sick. It made him want to shake the speaker until the stupidity became dislodged. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to siphon in the ounce of intelligence it took to understand no one asked to have her husband beat her senseless then carve her up with a knife.
The irony wasn’t lost on Garrett. Violence against Jade. Violence raging through him. He wanted to believe there was a difference. He knew he would never raise a hand against a woman, no matter the provocation. Walk away. Yell. Break something. Punch a bag, not your wife. There were always alternatives. Just as there always was a group who believed the victim was at fault.
Garrett left his untouched sandwich on the table. He needed to get out of the restaurant. The moment he was clear of the building, he took several deep breaths. Los Angeles air wasn’t the cleanest. Still, anything was better than the stagnant atmosphere he just left.
He should have stayed in his office and ordered in. The problem with that? Wyatt. Big brother was becoming concerned with Garrett’s suddenly solitary habits. Home. The office. Home. That was his routine. Work was his excuse. Post-production on his last movie needed all his attention. It was difficult to roll that one out when the movie industry was the family business. When his brother was his producer.
Ever since the news of Jade’s hospitalization, Garrett’s concentration came and went. Knowing what she suffered at the hands of a man who should have cherished her tore at his guts. He thought of her occasionally over the past two and a half years. He pictured her as she looked when they drove through the Hollywood Hills. Beautiful and a little sad.
She married. It was a little disappointing but not earth shattering. He wanted her to be happy. He believed she was. Finding out how wrong that belief was made him wish he had never stopped driving that night. Would it have changed anything? Probably not. Unfortunately, he would never know.
The first news reports claimed Stephen Marsh, son-in-law of famed industrialist Anson Marlow, was under arrest for attacking his wife. There was no mention of Jade’s name, as though she was the least important person in the story. Garrett knew, though.
For days, he scoured the internet, called contacts. He searched for information. There was little to be had. Somehow, Anson Marlow managed to keep the gruesome details under wraps. That lasted a week. Slowly, drop by appalling drop, the world learned of the horrors Jade endured. Not just that last night, but also over the entire marriage.
Garrett paced. A drink sounded like a good idea. Why didn’t he keep whiskey in his office? He sighed. Crap. Wyatt’s wife. They had stopped leaving alcohol around about four years ago. Stephanie could sniff it out like
a bloodhound. Ultimately, nothing the family did helped. After her death, it never occurred to Garrett to restock his office. The only reason he kept it in the first place was for business meetings. This was the first time he could remember actively craving a drink. All things considered, it was probably for the best that the office, hell, the building, was alcohol-free. The way he was feeling, stopping with one shot would be a challenge.
Garrett picked up his phone. The temptation to call Jade became more and more difficult to ignore. He still had her listed. Last week, he checked with the same friend who got him the number to make sure it hadn’t changed. Now he fought with himself over the advisability of using it.
Jade didn’t go out in public. That he knew. Her release from the hospital occurred late one night, two weeks after she first arrived. Anson Marlow cleverly circulated a false story saying she would be going home later that afternoon then sneaked her out in a laundry truck. No one saw her then or since.
Did she have anyone, Garrett wondered. A friend to talk to? Or to just sit with? Rumors swirled. They ranged from Jade being hideously disfigured to her mental fragility. Her poor father didn’t want to have her institutionalized. Instead, he kept her sedated. She was locked way so she couldn’t hurt herself or anyone else.
That last part cost Garrett the most sleep. The thought of that lovely, laughing woman being treated like Rochester’s wife in Jane Eyre made him toss and turn with worry. Not that he believed the speculation. Like everything else in this town, the truth was often bent and twisted so often it became unrecognizable from the lie.
Still, Garrett knew Anson Marlow’s reputation. It suited his purposes; he was capable of making sure Jade stayed a virtual prisoner. He wanted to make sure her withdrawal from the world was her own choice.
Garrett wanted Jade to know she had a friend. If she needed him — for anything — he was only a phone call away.
Running a distracted hand through his hair, Garrett again picked up the phone. Before he could talk himself out of it, his finger tapped Jade’s name. Then he waited.
“Hello?” a woman answered.
Not Jade. Because she couldn’t answer? Was she incapable of talking on the phone, or did she not want to be bothered? If that was the case, why not let it go to voice mail? Garrett shook off the questions. The only way to find out was to ask.
“May I speak with Jade?”
“Ms. Marlow is unavailable.”
“Unavailable or drugged out of her mind?”
Way to play it cool, Garrett. A simple phone call; that was all this was supposed to be. Instead, he practically accused some unknown person of keeping Jade whacked-out on tranquilizers.
“Who is this?”
“A friend.”
There was a pause.
“A friend who happens to be a reporter?”
Fair question, Garrett acknowledged. If this woman was there not as Jade’s jailer, but to protect her privacy, questioning a caller’s motives made sense.
“Definitely a friend.” Then, after a little consideration, Garrett added, “Or rather an old acquaintance who would like to be Jade’s friend. Will you tell her Garrett called? I’m available at any time.”
“Wait.” The woman paused before continuing. “I’ll ask if she wants to talk to you. Give me a minute?”
“Take your time.”
Not drugged. Unless the woman was throwing him a red herring. Or maybe he was becoming a victim of his profession. The world was not a movie script full of impossible intrigue. Conspiracies happened all the time on the silver screen — less frequently in real life.
“Hello?”
Again, not Jade.
“Yes, I’m still here.”
“Ms. Marlow wonders if you could call back tomorrow. Around ten a.m.?”
“Absolutely.” Garrett felt a lightening of the weight he carried around. Not complete relief. It was a start. “Tell Ms. Marlow she’ll be hearing from me.”
“Mr. ah…”
“Landis.”
“Mr. Landis. Please, don’t forget to call.” The woman’s voice was earnest, almost desperate. “She needs a friend. I think, maybe, more than anything. And one more thing,” she whispered.
“Yes?” Garrett leaned forward as if she was in the room.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
Garrett sat unmoving for several minutes after he hung up. So much for imagined danger. Something strange was going on. Whoever the woman was, she was looking out for Jade. Did she work for Anson Marlow? That was a silly question. Jade’s father had to be paying the woman’s salary. Was part of her job description to keep friends away?
Suddenly full of energy, Garrett jumped from his chair. None of his questions would be answered today. Grabbing his keys, he headed out. A long swim in his parents’ pool followed dinner. Then a long visit. He would still toss and turn. He knew there would be little sleep tonight. Until then, he had his family to help ease the next few hours.
And Jade? What did she have? Who did she have? One caring, yet ineffectual woman. A woman paid by Anson Marlow.
That was about to change, Garrett promised himself. Soon, Jade would have him. He hoped that she would let him in.
The next morning at ten o’clock on the dot, Garrett made the call.
“Hello? Garrett?”
Jade. He knew her voice immediately. A little tentative. A bit unsure. He wanted to reach through the phone, gather her into his arms, and promise to keep her safe.
“Jade.”
After running this conversation through his head a thousand times, now the moment had arrived, he didn’t know what to say.
“I…” Garrett heard her take a deep breath. “I’m sorry I couldn’t speak with you yesterday. I was meeting with my, well, I guess there isn’t a pretty way of putting it. I was meeting with my psychiatrist.”
“Is she helping you?”
“He. And no, I don’t think he is. But as he and my father keep reminding me, it’s early days.”
“Would you be more comfortable with a different shrink?”
Jade didn’t answer. Crap. Maybe shrink was an indelicate word. No, not indelicate. Thoughtless.
“Thank you, Garrett, for not pussyfooting around the elephant in the room. I don’t speak with many people these days. The ones I do seem very uncomfortable with any mention of therapy. Of course, most people think I’m crazy.”
“Are you?”
Again, a pause. He should never joke over the phone. Any nuance was lost.
“I know you’re kidding.”
“I was,” Garrett assured her. “How could you tell?”
“You have a very expressive voice. I suppose growing up with a gifted actress as a mother, some of it was bound to rub off.”
The opening he was looking for. Family was a safe subject. An entertaining one. Garrett launched into a series of stories. Light. Funny. There was no need for Jade to answer. For the next hour, he segued from one anecdote to another, not waiting for Jade to respond. He wanted her to relax. Or rather, he wanted her to find the sound of his voice relaxing. When she needed to let go for a little while, she would think of him and call.
“Your brother did not fill a room at the London Savoy with ping pong balls.”
“He did,” Garrett said. He grinned. There was more life in her voice. He could almost picture her smiling.
“An entire room?”
“I swear. It was a closet—”
“Ah.” Jade jumped on that little detail.
“Colt was only ten. Admittedly, he had some help. A few bucks to the maid’s brother and he had a co-conspirator. Still. The mastermind was a ten-year-old boy. You aren’t impressed?”
“Maybe,” Jade conceded. “Were your parents angry?”
“No, but the hotel manager who opened the closet door was. The man had no sense of humor.”
“Why have I never heard this story before? Colton Landis is the biggest movie star in the world. People would eat that up.”
; “The hotel managed to keep it under wraps. They didn’t want it to get around how easily it was to pull off a stunt like that.” Garrett laughed when he remembered the pride on his father’s face. Ten years old. “My parents were happy to avoid any publicity. Now it’s a family story we roll out from time to time.”
“Still—”
“Jade! Where the hell are you? Dr. Phillips is waiting.”
“I need to go.”
Garrett hated the fear he heard in Jade’s voice. Fear and resignation.
“Jade? Can I call you again tomorrow?”
“Do you want to?”
“Very much.”
“Jade!”
Anson Marlow’s voice was closer that time.
“Yes. Please,” Jade whispered. The phone went dead.
Garrett’s first instinct was to rush over to the Marlow house. He wouldn’t let her father get away with bullying Jade. She needed gentleness. Kindness. Two things Anson Marlow didn’t appear capable of giving her.
He sat back in his chair. He wasn’t going anywhere. Unless he thought someone was physically abusing her again, he would bide his time. Jade needed a slow build. Phone calls to start. Soon he would ask to meet. Not for long. Wherever she was comfortable. She would set the pace and the rules.
His assistant stuck her head through the office door, reminding him he had a production meeting in ten minutes. His life went on. It was a busy life. Jam-packed with work, family, and the occasional short-term relationship. Garrett liked it that way. He wasn’t happy when he had extra time on his hands.
He didn’t have time for Jade. Not really. What he started today was not a casual thing. Garrett was committing himself to helping a woman without knowing how deep he needed to go. Pull away now, a voice told him. She isn’t lover material. Not now. She is fragile. Damaged. Even if you weren’t so busy, what makes you think you’re qualified?
None of that mattered. He was determined to help Jade Marlow even though he wasn’t certain why. For now, all that mattered was Jade. The rest he would figure out as he went along.
They spoke every day. Garrett called at the same time. Jade answered after the first ring. He wanted to believe she was anxious to hear his voice. That might be part of it. When she asked if she could start calling him, he knew she was worried about being discovered. She didn’t want to be overheard. A ring, or even a vibration, might be intercepted. Garrett was her secret and it seemed she wanted to keep it that way.
Dreaming With A Broken Heart (Hollywood Legends #1) Page 6
