Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire Book 4)

by Ruth Cardello

  “You now officially have a searchable background story as Wayne Easton. If anyone asks, your parents disappeared during a trip to Thailand when you were a baby, and you were raised by a priest in the mountains of Connecticut.”

  “Does Connecticut even have mountains?”

  “I don’t know. Anyway, you dropped out of college to follow your dream of juggling in a traveling circus, which was how your face got messed up.”

  “In a juggling accident?”

  Reggie shrugged. “Bar fight with a clown.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Hey, next time write your own life history if you’re going to be picky. I thought a clown fight was cool. Besides, someone would have to do a background check to know any of that crap. According to you, you don’t even talk to anyone.”

  “True.” He went over the life Reggie had created for him and smiled. “You’re a real ballbuster, you know that?”

  Reggie smiled back. “You can take the reins back anytime you want.”

  Eric nodded. One day. “On that note, what do you think about me buying the building my apartment is in?”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like good things to happen for the people who live there. I don’t want them to know it was me, but they work hard, and I’d like to see them have more opportunities than they do.”

  “I like the idea, but don’t look at me for fairy-godmother shit. I’ve got enough on my plate here. I do know, though, someone who would love to help you with that.”

  “Really?”

  “Your brother Brett. He calls all the time as well. Didn’t he do something similar for the half of your family that went with your mother?”

  “He did.”

  Reggie brushed his hands together. “Another problem solved. Damn, I’m good.”

  “I haven’t talked to Brett in a while. You know I don’t get along with my family.”

  Reggie’s expression grew more serious than normal. “Listen, I don’t have anyone outside of my wife and kids, so I’m no expert when it comes to family, but you’re clearly not happy with things as they are. Let the past go. They made mistakes. You made mistakes. Move on. You’ve given bitter and alone a chance, but it’s not a good look on you.”

  Every word rang true to Eric. “You’re as good as anyone I spoke to at the clinic.”

  Reggie smiled. “And I don’t even like people.”

  Eric chuckled. “I’m heading back to the main house. I have a few phone calls to make.”

  They walked out of the garage and headed across the lawn toward the house. He wasn’t proud of his behavior back in the lair. Bitter and alone? Is that the life I’ve chosen by default?

  Is that who Sage sees when she looks at me?

  Just before they entered the back door to the house, Eric asked, “Hey, how much do I pay you?”

  “Wake up and find out.” For once Reggie was absolutely serious. “You also employ a competent accountant who justifies his high salary by documenting where every penny of your money goes.”

  It was an uncomfortable conversation to have. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me.” Reggie shook his head as he walked away. “It should to you. I hope one day it will.”

  His words stayed with Eric long after he’d left. Eric had withdrawn from his family and everything he associated with them because he didn’t want to play by their rules. Sage had echoed the same. He’d stopped playing their game, but unlike Sage, he hadn’t replaced it with anything better—he’d simply shut down.

  He couldn’t change his family. He couldn’t go back in time and undo the mistakes he’d made, but, as Sage had once told him, he could control how he behaved from now on. Reggie didn’t pull punches. He also didn’t usually care about who Eric slept with. For him to intervene and suggest that Eric wasn’t ready to date yet meant he cared about the outcome.

  Because I’m an odd duck, and so is she. Eric smiled. He liked every little thing that made Sage unique. He admired her for choosing her own path. He loved that the career she professed having was really a ruse to get her close enough to help the people she saw in need. From the way she looked at every issue through a humanitarian lens to the sweet passion of her kiss—she was perfection.

  Sage might be different, but she was gloriously so. My life is not mainstream, but if I can pull my head out of my own ass, I could be someone she sees in the same light.

  If anyone could understand the difference between lying and playing a role, it would be Sage. Her whole career is based on that very idea.

  Now—as Reggie suggested—I just need to get my shit together.

  The first call he made was to Rachelle’s husband, Magnus, to confirm that Eric would indeed be available to visit the children’s hospital in Vandorra. Rachelle had already spoken to him about the possibility, so they planned it for a few days from then. Magnus’s only warning was that if Eric attempted to back out of the visit, he would personally fly to London and drag his ass to it.

  Eric assured him he would be there. Magnus wasn’t joking—he’d nearly kidnapped Eric for his first visit to the hospital. Eric wasn’t proud that it had taken that much to get him to do something he should have instantly agreed to. The visit had been an eye-opening experience for Eric—just as he was sure his second trip would be.

  Every life is worth fighting for. Even mine.

  He remembered what one of his counselors had said about forgiving himself being as important as forgiving others. It was difficult for Eric to go there, because it meant facing everything he hated himself for.

  Or had hated himself for—he was slowly letting some of it go. Maybe he wasn’t the perfect son. He could have tried harder to patch things up with his family. He could have spent less time running from his demons than trying to numb them with drugs.

  I could have been kinder to everyone—even me.

  He remembered his first visit to the children’s hospital. He hadn’t wanted to wear the spandex costume from his movies, because back then his concern had still been all about himself and how he felt. But that’s not me anymore. I am looking outside myself.

  That realization gave him hope that he was worthy of another chance with Sage. He wasn’t looking forward to trying to explain his triple life to her, but as long as he knew he could be as good for Sage as she had been for him—he’d explain it as many times and in as many ways as she needed to hear it.

  Before that, though, Reggie was right that he needed to get his life a little more under control. His second call was to his brother Brett.

  “Brett, it’s Eric.”

  “Hang on.” His brother called to his secretary to hold his calls. “What do you need? Did something happen? It’s not Grandmother, is it? Is she okay?”

  “Everyone is fine.” It was somewhat sad that Brett assumed Eric wouldn’t call unless there’d been a catastrophe of some sort. “How is Alisha?”

  “Good. Really good.”

  “And the baby—” Fuck, I know it has a name.

  “Linda is walking now, but mostly at night. None of us are getting enough sleep, but we just found out we’re expecting a second child, so we’re signing on for a few more years of that lifestyle. How about you?”

  “Better.” He paused. “Sorry I haven’t been returning your calls. I’ve been off the grid for a while.”

  “Well, it’s good to hear from you now. How are you surviving having Grandmother in London?”

  “I haven’t seen her in weeks.”

  “I know,” Brett said quietly. “I tried to explain to her that you might need time, but there is no crowbar strong enough to tear her away from you. She’s convinced you need her.”

  Eric made a pained sound in his throat.

  Brett added, “The two of you were once very close.”

  “A long time ago.”

  “Did you know I used to envy your bond with her? She was always serious with me, but I’d walk into a room when you were with her, and she would always b
e laughing. You could always bring out that side of her.”

  “Not always.” Eric sighed. “Anyway, that’s not why I called. There’s a project I’m interested in initiating, but it’s one that requires—discretion.”

  “Okay.” Brett had never been a man of many words, nor had he ever seemed to want to discuss how anyone felt about anything. He was all business, all the time. Asking him for something personal required a leap of faith for Eric.

  “I was hoping you could advise me on how to navigate it.”

  Without missing a beat, Brett said, “I can be on a flight to London tonight if you need me to be.”

  “Oh no. That won’t be necessary. This isn’t anything that can’t be handled over the phone.”

  “What do you need?”

  Eric was momentarily surprised by the forthrightness of Brett’s support. In the past any offer of assistance would have been accompanied by a list of criticisms and likely a judgment on whether or not the project had merit. Rachelle had said Brett was different, but now Eric saw it. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. His relationship with Brett had always been more confrontational than brotherly—as if having a hypercritical father and grandmother wasn’t enough, Brett had added a whole new level of judgment. Feeling that they were on opposing sides had stopped them from ever being close.

  I made mistakes.

  He made mistakes.

  It’s time to move on and try again.

  “If I tell you something, Brett, it can’t go further than us. No one can know.”

  “You have my word.”

  Eric believed him because, regardless of what other flaws he might have, Brett wasn’t a liar. In fact, if anything, he was brutally, painfully honest. “You know I was in a rehab clinic until a few months ago.”

  “I do.”

  “I took a good look at my life while I was in there and didn’t like what I saw. So I’m making changes.”

  “Okay.” Brett’s tone was cautious. Eric couldn’t blame him, since this was the most civil conversation they’d had—possibly ever.

  “My life had become all about everything I thought I had been cheated of, but visiting the children’s hospital was eye-opening. I’m starting fresh, and I want to do more for people.”

  “That sounds healthy.” His tone was relieved.

  “But I don’t want them to know I’m the one who helped them. I want to do it in a way that they can feel they played a part in their own windfall. Can you understand that?”

  “Actually, I understand that very well.”

  “You’ve done a lot for Spencer, Rachelle, and Nicolette—probably more than I’m even aware of. Somehow you kept it secret. I’d like it if you could show me how to do the same for some people I’ve come across.”

  “Absolutely. You’ll need a lawyer and an assistant with a strong nondisclosure contract as well as a good salary. May I ask who it is you’d like to help?”

  Eric hesitated. Old family patterns were hard to break. There was no profit in what he was doing—therefore no reason to expect anyone in his family would understand his motivation. Had Eric not been fresh from a conversation with Reggie about giving his family a second chance, he would have told Brett it was none of his business. However, for this to be a true fresh start, he needed to put his expectation of being disappointed aside. “I rented an apartment near the theater district. I needed a way to step outside my life for a bit. No one knows who I am there.”

  “That’s hard to believe. I thought everyone knew your face.”

  “I cover part of it with a scar while I’m there. People in my building accept it as part of me, so I haven’t had a problem.” He went on to describe the people who lived nearby as well as how run-down the place was. “I’m so used to people treating me in a different way because they want something from me. I came home the other day and my neighbor invited me to her place for dinner. She’s seventy if she’s a day, but she is an excellent cook. And that woman can talk, even though I have no idea what she said. She doesn’t need words to make a person feel welcome. I’d like to find out what she needs and make sure she gets it. I want to do the same for the others who live there. They’re good, solid people.”

  Eric ended it there and waited. If Brett refused to help him, he’d find another way.

  “I have some people on my payroll who excel at finding out what people need, and they’re discreet. I’ll fly one of them over. They can set you up with everything you need to make this happen.”

  “Thanks. I’ll put them up in a hotel. No one on my staff knows about my double life—except Reggie.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about your electrician lately.”

  “He’s more of a friend than an employee.”

  “That’s what I heard. I’m glad you have someone in your life you can trust. That’s important.”

  “I’ve also met someone.” Never, never in the past would he have shared so much with Brett, but if they were starting over, he wanted it to be an honest start. “I’ve never met anyone like her before, and I know I never will again. She gets me, even the parts I haven’t yet told her about. When I’m with her, I feel like I can be a better person. She gives me hope.” And it scares me shitless.

  “Is she a Water Bear Man fan?”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. Eric walked into one of the house’s large parlors and looked out the window, standing in one life, wishing he were already back in his other. “She doesn’t know my real name.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  “More than you know, but I will sort it out. I don’t want to lose her. She’s probably everything you wouldn’t approve of, but—”

  “Eric, this may be coming too late, but I understand why you left for Europe. I understand why you don’t call. It took meeting Alisha for me to understand how I was repeating the same mistakes Dad did, the same ones Grandmother did. I was harsh and critical of your choices. I’m not excusing my behavior, but I do apologize for it. I see now that there’s a better way, and slowly I’m rebuilding my relationships with our siblings. Rachelle was easy.”

  Eric could see that. “She has a huge heart.”

  “Yes. Spencer was more of a challenge. I had to prove to him that he could trust me, but things are better between us now. Nothing is overnight, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you called, because I know exactly how justified your self-exile was. I see it now, though, and I won’t ever be that man again.”

  There was a humility to Brett that hadn’t been there before, and it was reassuring. Maybe reuniting with his family was not impossible after all. It also gave him hope that his talk with Delinda might not be as dreadful as it might have once been.

  When he looked at his relationship with Brett through fresh eyes, he felt compelled to say, “I accept your apology, but I have my share of regrets as well. I didn’t try to see your side. It was all about me and how I felt. That’s something I’m working on.”

  They fell into a short, awkward silence.

  Eric finally said, “I should go. Delinda is expecting a phone call from me tonight.”

  “She loves you, Eric. No matter how she frames it, that’s what she’s trying to say.”

  “I know.”

  “Be honest with her. If she crosses a line, tell her. All she wants is to be part of our lives. Show her how you want her to fit into yours—if you do want that.”

  Eric’s hand clenched around the phone. He’d given up on ever repairing his relationship with his grandmother. A few months ago, if someone had told him that he would be talking to Brett about how to reconcile with her, he would have scoffed at the idea. Admitting that he missed his grandmother didn’t mean he had to open the door as wide for her as he had for Brett. Baby steps. “I would like to get to a better place with her.”

  “Then tell her that. And remember, I’m only a phone call away if you need backup.”

  “Thanks, Brett. And I appreciate the offer of sharing your staff.
I’m going to head to Vandorra in a few days for a visit, so if they can hold off until I return, that would be perfect.”

  “I’ll plan for that. Say hi to Rachelle for me.”

  “Princess Rachelle,” Eric joked.

  “Ha. Yes. Call me when you get back.”

  “I will.” And this time Eric meant it.

  Eric paced the room a few times after hanging up with Brett. There was no more putting it off. He looked down at his phone and took a deep breath.

  What time do women in their eighties go to bed?

  I’ll call her tomorrow.

  The next day after returning from meeting Bella for dinner, Sage returned home and began to restlessly clean her apartment. There was something soothing about washing dishes and organizing her things. Some people assumed that since she was “flighty,” it meant she was messy as well, but she kept a tidy house. Away at school, her room had been all that was really hers, and she chose every aspect of it carefully.

  If she had to label her style, it would be comfortably contemporary. Nothing expensive or too exotic. When it came to her home, she liked simple.

  After a quick shower, Sage put on pajamas and flopped on her bed. What a day.

  In an attempt to keep her mind off the fact that Wayne hadn’t called her, Sage had forced herself out into the world early. Normally her radar led her somewhere, but that day she walked without feeling guided. She’d started heading toward the coffee shop and changed her mind countless times. Wayne had her number. If he wanted to see her, he knew where to find her.

  Deciding that she’d put it off long enough, she’d taken the Tube to see Mrs. Westerly. She’d almost called ahead, but her gut told her things would go better if she didn’t give the woman too much time to think before they spoke.

  She’d been wrong.

  Mrs. Westerly’s home was impressive, or would have been if Sage cared about such things. She was obviously a woman with high standards. Everything from the perfectly manicured front bushes to the plaque beside the door that denoted the historical importance of the building screamed old, stuffy money. She doubted there was a weed in the garden—none would dare.