Going out in public with her would be good. He could get some photos of them together with her in her uniform and get some publicity that way. Start the rumor mill going.
“Where would you like to go, sir?” Carter asked.
Rick put his arm on the back of the seat. “Café Med.” There was sure to be paparazzi hanging around.
Tara sat twisting her hands together, back stiff, so he decided to put her at ease. “How do you like working for Greta? Has she been nice to you?”
“She’s been fine.” Tara didn’t look at him.
“Have you enjoyed working at the house?”
Finally, she turned to him, but he didn’t expect the flat look. “Are you asking me if I enjoy cleaning your bathrooms?” Her eyes grew wide and she clamped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she said under her hand. “I didn’t mean that.”
Rick found himself laughing, which surprised him. Women rarely made him truly laugh. “Yes, you did.”
“I’m sorry. My mouth sometimes gets me into trouble. I love my job and really want to keep it.” She stared down at her hands again, which went back to twisting and wringing.
“I’m not going to fire you. In fact, I want to give you a raise.”
She didn’t look at him.
He tried again. “And you wouldn’t have to clean anymore.” He leaned closer to her, giving her his best Hollywood grin.
“I don’t want to marry you,” she blurted.
“Ouch.” He removed his arm from behind her on the seat.
She turned her gaze to him. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I don’t want to be a part of your publicity stunt. I have a daughter—”
“I know.” And he wasn’t too thrilled about it either. But he was kind of stuck. “It’ll be fine. All she’ll need to do is pose for a few photo shoots. The rest of the time, we can keep her out of the media’s eye.”
Tara swallowed, her face draining of color. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
What was wrong with her? There were a million girls out there who would die to be seen with him in public. He met dozens each night. Why was this one being so stubborn? He decided to change tactics. “I can make it financially worth your while.”
She paused, and he thought maybe he’d hit on something, so he continued. “I’m willing to pay you for your time.”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “No, I can’t—”
“A hundred thousand dollars,” he blurted, before he had the chance to think about it.
Her eyes grew wide and she went very still. “What?” she whispered.
He hadn’t meant to say that much, but for some reason getting her to say yes had become a challenge, and he never backed down from a challenge. He was not used to losing. “A hundred thousand. And all you have to do is marry me.”
Her gaze lifted to his, and he was stunned by the beauty in her dark brown eyes. “What happens if you don’t get the part?”
“If you’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain, you’ll still get the hundred thousand.”
She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could see the war going on behind her eyes. Just when he thought she was going to say yes, she shook her head.
“Stop.” He held up a hand. “Don’t answer yet. Let’s eat lunch, and you can think about it.” The car turned onto Sunset Boulevard. They’d be there in a minute.
“Okay.”
When they arrived, he got out of the car and took her hand to help her onto the sidewalk. As he suspected, paparazzi lined the walk and cameras flashed. Tara shielded her face. “It’s okay,” he said in her ear, as he put his arm around her. “Just ignore them.”
He paused to give them a smile he knew would be in all the tabloids, and then he rushed her inside. The server seated them, took their drink orders, and then left them to look over the menu.
Tara fidgeted. “What do you suggest?”
“I like the Linguine Alle Vongole, if you’re looking for something light. The Filetto Al Barolo is good if you like filet mignon.”
“I’ll have the linguine.” She folded her menu and placed her hands in her lap.
He leaned back in his chair and took a good look at her. She was nervous. But something else lay beneath the surface, and he couldn’t quite peg it. “Where are you from?”
“Iowa.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What brought you to L.A.?”
She frowned. “My ex-husband.”
Oops. Maybe that wasn’t the best question to ask. “What are your plans for the future?”
“Right now I just want to pay off all the legal fees from the divorce. After that, I’d love to move back to Iowa. Raise my daughter in the Midwest where they have good values.” Her cheeks colored. “I mean . . . no offense.”
He laughed. “None taken. So, doing this with me could help you reach that goal, right?”
“Right. And that’s the only reason why I’m considering it.” She cringed. “Again, no offense.”
He picked up his water and sobered. This girl wasn’t into him at all, which was frustrating. He was used to being able to get what he wanted from women. “I’m beginning to take offense.”
She didn’t look him in the eye. “I just want to live a quiet life. I’m all done with the limelight.”
He squinted at her. “What do you mean?”
“My ex is Bobby Goodwin.”
“The unknown who landed the big role in the last James Bond movie? He’s the one that…” He stopped when he realized who she was. “Oh.” He remembered the story now. Bobby had made it to the big screen and tossed his wife and kid by the wayside for some supermodel.
The pain was evident in her eyes. He scrubbed a hand over his face, and empathy bubbled up inside him. It was obvious Bobby had hurt her badly. “Sorry,” he said, his sentiment somehow inadequate.
She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “It happened. I can’t change it.” Her gaze turned to meet his. “But I can protect myself from anything like that happening again.”
Rick swallowed, unsure of what to say. “This would be different.”
“Yes, it would,” she whispered.
The server came back and took their order. After she left, he tried again. “Will a hundred thousand pay off your debt and allow you to move to Iowa?”
Tara stared at the table and shifted in her seat. “Yes.”
“Good.” He smiled, tipped his glass toward her, and took a sip of his water. “Then I see only one logical course of action.”
“If I agree to this, what will be expected of me?”
She was going to say yes, he was sure. He grinned. “I’d have my attorney write up a contract. You’d be expected to be seen with me as we announce our engagement. We’d have a few public appearances, at least one with your daughter. Then we’d get married with the media covering the wedding. After that, we’d be seen on a honeymoon, and then a few more appearances. We’d stay married for one year, then get a quiet divorce.”
She eyed him. “And in private?”
He shot her a frown. “This would only be a marriage on paper. You would not have any obligations when we were in private. What did you think I was proposing?”
She folded her arms and cocked one eyebrow at his question. “All I know of you is what I’ve read in the papers, and let’s just say that hasn’t been favorable.”
She was right. He’d helped perpetuate his own bad reputation on purpose, and had gone too far. Now he needed to rein it in. “Don’t believe everything you read in the papers.”
“I don’t.”
He studied her, back straight, fingers gripping the table like a lifeline. What did she think he was? Some kind of psycho? “So, you’ll do it?”
“Who will take care of Kylee while we’re out in public?”
“I can hire a nanny.”
She didn’t look like that pleased her, but she nodded. “Okay.”
“Is that a yes?” He hated to admit it, but he was
holding his breath, waiting for her to answer.
“If I say no, will I be fired?”
He leaned back and exhaled, frustrated. “Of course not. I’m not trying to strong-arm you into anything. I just see this as a mutually beneficial arrangement. If you don’t want to do it, then fine.”
A scrutinizing look came over her and she slowly nodded. “Alright, then.”
Rick wanted to scream. “You’ll marry me?”
She looked away from him, as if she couldn’t bear to gaze on him anymore. “Yes.”
Finally, she said yes. He should have felt happy, getting what he wanted, but for some reason the triumph wasn’t what he expected. The victory had fallen flat.
Chapter 3
T
ara sat across the desk from Rick’s attorney, signing papers. Mountains and mountains of papers. Sweat broke out on her forehead as she agreed never to breathe a word of the setup to anyone. She signed that she would not be entitled to more money than agreed upon, that she would not be able to sue, take unauthorized photos, or countless other things a person could think of, and some things she never would have thought of.
When the signing was done, she exited the office feeling stripped and exposed. Why was she doing this? She couldn’t help but feel like it was a stupid mistake she’d regret the rest of her life. She walked through the marble hallways and up the stairs toward her new place of residence. Rick’s master guest bedroom.
As she entered the room, Kylee cried out in delight. “Mommy!” She ran toward her, little pigtails bobbing, and hugged her legs.
Sophie, the older woman from her apartment complex who had been watching her daughter, set down a black garbage bag full of Kylee’s clothes. Sophie looked around the room. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Tara shook her head. “No, but do we ever know when it comes to matters of the heart?” She’d told Sophie she was moving in with Rick, and nothing more.
Kylee squealed and climbed on the king-sized monstrosity. “Is this my bed?”
“No, you’ll have your own room,” a low voice said behind her.
Tara turned to see Rick in the doorway. Why did her heart always pound when he was near? She tried to steady her breathing. He was just a man. A smokin’ hot man, but still. She wanted to argue with him about where Kylee would sleep, but with Sophie there, she just forced a smile.
Sophie frowned and backed up. “Well, I best be going.”
Tara put her hand on Sophie’s arm. “Thank you for bringing Kylee. I appreciate all you’ve done.”
Sophie cast a shadowed look at Rick before nodding. “You’re welcome.” She left the room.
Kylee climbed down from the bed and walked up to Rick, her head tilted back as she looked up at him. “Who are you?”
“I’m Rick.”
Tara grabbed her daughter’s hand, pulling her away from him. Rick had said he wasn’t fond of children, and she didn’t want Kylee to bother him. “Kylee, are you hungry for lunch yet?”
Her daughter’s big, brown eyes stared at her. “Sophie gave me fish crackers.”
“That’s fine. Let’s go see what else there is to eat.”
“I’ll have the kitchen make some lunch.” Rick pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.
Tara held up her hand. “No, that’s okay. We can go make ourselves something.” It was stupid to sit around and wait while the staff made her a sandwich. This morning she was the staff. She was capable of putting peanut butter on bread.
Holding Kylee’s hand, she led her down the stairs and through the hallways to the kitchen. She’d gotten used to the layout of the house and could maneuver her way around for the most part.
When she entered the kitchen, she waved to Eliza. “We’re just going to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” Tara opened the cupboard and pulled out a loaf of bread.
Eliza frowned. “I was just fixing lunch.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind making a sandwich for my daughter.”
Eliza put her hand on her hip. “Rick called down and asked that I do it.”
Tara froze. She watched as Eliza pulled the peanut butter from the cupboard, Tara’s blood boiling. Why would Rick do that? She didn’t want his staff waiting on her. And she’d told him she wanted to do it. “Could you watch Kylee for a moment?”
“Sure.” Eliza sat down on a stool next to Kylee and started spreading the peanut butter.
Tara went to find Rick. If he thought he was going to push his rich-person lifestyle on her, she’d have to set him straight. She found him sitting in his office chair, typing on his computer. He looked up when she entered the room. “Hi.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why did you do that?”
He pushed his chair back. “What did I do?”
“You told the staff to make Kylee a sandwich.”
“So?”
“I said I would do it.”
He stood and came around the desk. “You’re going to be married to me soon. You can let the staff do things like that.”
She fought the urge to stuff her fist into his pretty face. “I thought this whole thing was to show the public how down-to-earth you are. How you can mingle with the simple people.”
He seemed taken aback. “You think I’m a snob?”
“I think you’re out of touch with reality. You have no concept of how people live. You’ve lived in privilege so long you don’t even know what it’s like to make your own sandwich.” She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm.
“Wait.”
She faced him, ignoring the tingling sensation of his skin on hers, and stared down at his hand until he let go.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. Most people…” He stopped and chuckled, taking a step back to sit on the edge of his desk. “Well, most people aren’t like you.”
What did that mean? “You’re right. I don’t want to be waited on, hand and foot.”
He held up his hands in a surrender motion. “Fine.”
“So will you kindly tell your staff to treat me just how they used to treat me? And let me make the decisions for myself and my daughter.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
She turned and walked to the door, but before exiting she said, “And it would do you some good too.”
“What?”
She cast a glance at him. “You know. Make your own lunch once in a while.” She left before he could respond.
***
Rick stared at the space where Tara had been, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. He’d wanted to see what she’d be like when she came out of her shell. Now he knew. She was pig-headed, strong-willed, and basically infuriating.
And he was stuck with her.
He blew out a breath, walked back behind his desk, and sat in his chair. Oh well. He’d only have to be seen with her a few times, right? Pose for some pictures at the wedding. Be seen in Bora Bora for their honeymoon. The rest of the time he could avoid her.
He scrubbed a hand over his unshaven face. He needed a drink, but he’d promised Phil he’d stay away from the booze.
He pulled up his social media accounts on the computer and tapped the desk with his index finger. What should he post that would hint at things to come?
After a moment of thought, he typed:
Have you ever fallen for someone who works for you?
There. That would get people talking and start some speculation. The photos of him and Tara in her work uniform were already out there. It wouldn’t take long for people to put two and two together.
His feed began lighting up with responses. Some were humorous:
Yes, but my wife didn’t like it too much.
Some were more along the lines of what he was hoping for:
Who has your heart, Rick?
I’ll work for you any day.
Is it serious, Rick?
He answered the last one.
It might be.
He smiled as more responses came in, some lament
ing that he might not be single anymore. Some offering to take her place. Some making fun of those groveling for attention.
His phone chimed and he pulled it out. It was a text from Phil.
You and Tara have dinner reservations tonight. Dress nice. I’ve made sure the paparazzi will be there.
He held in a groan. So much for avoiding Tara. Now he had to go tell her about the reservations, and by the way she acted earlier, he wasn’t sure she would like it. He stood and turned off his monitor. Maybe she’d gotten over it by now. Either that, or she’d insist they stay home and make sandwiches.
He found her in the guest bedroom, playing with her daughter. A foam puzzle of some cartoon character lay spread out on the floor. Tara didn’t see him come in. He watched her as she patiently let her daughter try different pieces until one fit. “Good job,” she said, smiling.
He hadn’t seen a genuine smile on her face before now, and it fascinated him. It changed her whole countenance. She looked sincerely happy, and he wondered what he could do to produce the same effect.
She turned and saw him and the smile faded. “What do you want?”
Nope. Still hadn’t gotten over earlier. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Phil has secured reservations for us. We are to go out and be seen. Sorry. I didn’t know about it until now.”
She drew in a breath, letting it out slowly. “It’s what I signed up for, I guess. Who will watch Kylee tonight?”
“I’ve already hired a girl. You’ll like her. Her name is Amanda. She’ll be here soon.”
The little girl frowned. “I want you, mommy.”
“I know, darling, but I have to work tonight.” Tara smiled at her daughter. “You’ll have fun with Amanda. You can teach her how to put your puzzle together.”
Kylee stared at the floor, and then big tears rolled down her cheeks. Rick was stunned. He’d never seen a kid silently cry. He’d seen plenty of temper tantrums, especially in public. The kind that grated on your nerves and made you want to toss the kid out the window. But this was different. She just stood there, fat tears streaming down her face, and it was breaking his heart. He knelt beside her. “Hey, it’s okay. Why don’t you show me how your puzzle works?”
Acting Married (The Married Series Book 5) Page 2
