Phillip Eaton walked through the breakfast room, an armful of dishes in hand, as she stepped inside. “Your friend said you would be in all day, and he arranged for your lunch and dinner,” the owner said with a nod. “I hope salad and baked chicken is acceptable.”
“More than acceptable,” she returned with a smile. Even when he was fired, Brian still managed to be perfect.
“Lunch at one o’clock, then. And dinner at six.”
“Thank you, Phillip.”
“You’re welcome. I put fresh towels in the bathroom, and there’s coffee available in here all day.”
“Thanks,” she said again.
“And Miss Ross? I heard what happened. Some people are just mean.”
“Yes, they are. Thank you for not being one of those people, though.”
At that, his smile broadened. “I try.”
Handing over her empty coffee cup, she walked to the front of the house and up the stairs. It had been quiet last night, but today it felt more peaceful, probably because nobody else was here. If she’d known ahead of time that a disaster was imminent, she might have bought out the entire B and B and not have had to worry about photos and gossip getting out.
Her door opened with the key card, and she slipped inside. Somebody had made the bed, folded the blanket she’d left on the couch, and opened the two windows overlooking the pond. The warmish breeze felt good and had the benefit of lessening the potpourri scent that lingered in every room she’d so far explored.
She sat on the couch. Brian was gone. She’d see him again, because some of his things remained at her house, but she couldn’t hire him again. Not if he was thinking in terms of—of what, winning her back again? Of dating her again? Of sex and engagements and a wedding after all?
A clean break was much better. She should have realized that four years ago instead of hiring him so…so she could still keep him around, like a photo of her favorite vacation or something. Of course he’d also been the best assistant she’d ever had, and losing him would hurt for that reason.
“Fuck,” she muttered, pounding her fist into the garish couch.
The bathroom door opened, and she nearly jumped through the ceiling. “You probably shouldn’t go in there for a few minutes,” Brian said, waving his hand. “I opened the window.”
She lowered her hands from where she’d instinctively grabbed her chest. “What the hell are you still doing here?”
“I paid for the room for two nights,” he returned, sitting at the far end of her couch.
“For me.”
“For us.”
“I’ll pay you back. Go away.”
“I like it here. You go away.”
They both knew perfectly well that she needed to be here and he didn’t, but evidently he didn’t care about that any longer. “Fine,” she snapped, lifting one haunch to pull her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll call John to come get me.”
“You should call for an Uber. John’s trying to save your movie right now.”
“I know what John is doing for me, jerk. That’s why you should leave, and I should stay. And I’m not calling an Uber. You know that.”
“Then stay here for another night. You can still use my couch.”
“Oh, thanks. So how are you going to keep yourself occupied for the rest of the day with nothing to put on a calendar and no phone calls to movie studios for you to make?”
He picked up a book from the end table. “I thought I’d read. They have a nice little library downstairs.”
“Your first day of unemployment and you’re going to read…” She bent over to see the title. “Moby Dick?”
“Call me Ishmael.” Sinking down farther into the deep cushions of the couch, he flipped to the first page.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Why can’t I be?”
“You’re going to sit here and read.” Eleanor stood up, planting both hands on her hips. “Just to spite me.”
“I’m sitting here and reading because I like to read and because I don’t have a job. I’m politely allowing you to remain in the room I paid for.” He crossed one ankle over the other. “Though I’ve been thinking about doing some fishing. Phillip says the pond is stocked, and he has poles for his guests to use. It’s catch and release, but who wants to clean the fish after you catch them, anyway?”
“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. I’m calling John.”
Before he could say anything else, she hit quick dial, found John Radley’s number second under Brian’s, and punched it. Her agent picked up after the first ring. “El? How are you holding up?”
“Not great. I had to—”
“Listen, I’ve got a call in to Paramount, but so far they’ve come down on your side in all this. We’re calling it an unforeseen complication. They do want to redesign the costume, though, since its reveal was supposed to be such a big deal in the film.”
Shit. She’d loved that costume. “I get it,” she said aloud. “The reason I—”
“I’m trying to arrange for you to have dinner with Enrique Vance to make sure things are smoothed over. As far as everybody knows, you are so upset that you’ve gone into hiding, and you’re willing to leave the film if that saves the project, even though none of this is your doing. So stay where you are. Let Cafferty field your phone calls, but take any from the studio or Machinak and Valenti. I’ve been giving everybody his number.”
Dammit. “John, I—”
“Hey, Molly just walked in. Paramount’s on the other line. I’ll update you as soon as I know anything. Hang in there, El.”
The phone clicked dead before she could respond. “Well, that’s just it,” she went on into dead air, “I had to fire Cafferty. Yes. No, he was just getting too wrapped up in my personal life.” She paused as if waiting for a response. “Sure. Send her on up. Cafferty told you where I’m staying, yes? No, tomorrow’s fine. I’ll see her then. Thanks for finding me somebody before I even knew I needed them. Bye.”
When she lowered the phone, Brian was eyeing her. “So I’m replaced already?”
“If I like her. Denise Mayo,” she made up. “Heard of her?”
“No. Did she go to school with Judy Howard, by chance?”
Judy Howard, her made-up assistant’s assistant. “Are you accusing me of lying?”
“Girl, you lie for a living,” he responded easily. “You’ve said so yourself. And whatever. I don’t care if Denise Mayo is made up or not, or if she’s best friends with Tina Mustard. I’m not working for you anymore. From now on, we’re equals.”
She hesitated, his choice of words making her skin heat. “We’ve always been equals.” She’d never talked down to him or asked him to do anything stupid or crazy. Really crazy, anyway.
“Except now you can’t fire me. I don’t have to leave because you don’t like where our conversation is going, because I reserved this room with my credit card.”
“Just because I don’t like you comparing yourself to my other boyfriends doesn’t make me unreasonable, you know.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“You fired me because you can’t make yourself say out loud that you still have feelings for me, just like I do for you.”
Oh, this was not fair. “I’m going fishing,” she stated and turned for the door.
“Coward.”
“Oh, so now we’re in a Western, and I’m supposed to turn and fight you because you called me out? Don’t be an idiot.” Usually Brian kept his car keys right inside the front door. She glanced toward the exit. Yep, there they were. She could grab them and go before he realized she’d taken off. Of course then he’d probably call the cops on her for grand theft auto, but at least she wouldn’t have to have this conversation.
Eleanor took a breath. God, she was a coward, ready to break the law to avoid saying or thinking anything uncomfortable. She clenched her jaw and faced him again. “I don’t have feelings for you.”
“Liar.”
“Stop insulting m
e!”
“Stop lying, then.”
“Okay, I do have feelings for you. Friend feelings. You’ve been a good friend. I know I’m high-maintenance, and that didn’t scare you away. I appreciate that.” She kept her back pressed against the door; knowing she could escape if she needed to made her feel a little steadier. And he stayed on the couch, because he probably knew the same thing about her.
“Of course you didn’t scare me away. You just wanted me on your payroll so you could push me away whenever you felt like you were starting to rely on me too much.”
“Yes, I relied on you. I don’t hire people I don’t need. Your problem is you keep forgetting it’s a job—a job—and you start putting personal feelings into everything.”
Brian opened his mouth then shut it again. Ha. At least he was self-aware enough to realize she wasn’t just spouting nonsense. She had a point. A good point, damn it all.
“Okay,” he said after a moment. “Maybe it is all me, then. We had a fling, took it too seriously, and you just saw the light before I did.”
Eleanor nodded. “Yes. Exactly that.”
“So there really is nothing left between us. No carnal, sexual pull, and no chance of a happily ever after. And you aren’t pushing me away because your dad died when you were a kid and you have a thing about any man getting too tangled up in your life.”
* * *
That was a cheap shot. “That was a cheap shot,” she said aloud. “Don’t use your attorney training on me. I’m not some felon you’re trying to get to confess.”
“I’m not that kind of attorney, anyway. You just…” He slapped the book closed and dropped it at his feet. “You don’t like to yell, so instead you run. If you would just stop once in a while and tell me what the hell is bothering you, maybe I could stop doing it, or it could turn out that my reasons for doing it aren’t the ones you think they are.”
“All of your arguments seem to hinge on your being right and my being wrong. I’m the first one to admit that I’m not perfect, but jeez, Brian. Look in the mirror for once.”
Slowly he climbed to his feet, all six-foot-two of well-toned, capable man, and walked up to her. Even in sweats and a rainbow-farting unicorn shirt, he was nothing to sneeze at, and yeah, she did enjoy looking at him. Maybe it was just physical, then. That argument might make more sense to him. And to her.
When he stopped, she could have reached out and poked him, he was so close. It could have been intimidating, but she’d never felt anything like a physical threat from him. Intellect-wise, yeah, he could probably run circles around her, but he’d never done that, either. She lifted her chin to look him in the eye.
“What? Am I supposed to melt into your arms now or something?”
Blue eyes held her gaze. “Just tell me, straight up, one thing. Am I wrong? Is there nothing here?” He gestured between the two of them. “Because I feel it, every day. Every time I set eyes on you or turn around to see you looking at me. I feel it, and that is why I’ve stuck around for four years. That is why I hate that every man you’ve gone out with since has been some high-testosterone jackass who’s never had a thought beyond how many hours he needs to spend at the gym.”
Oh, boy. Brian Cafferty was a smart guy. And at least to herself she could admit that some of what he said made sense. She did have a track record for dating jerks. Rod had only been the latest, and yes, by now she should have known better. Still, Rod was the first one to have actively tried to sink her career to further his own. According to Brian, her next boyfriend would be the actual King Kong. “Being self-centered is a hazard of and a necessity to this profession. I just need to be more aware of that.”
“Yeah, you do. But you didn’t answer my question, El.”
Now would be an awesome time for Enrique or John or Taylor at Paramount to give her a call. A couple of minutes to think, to figure out what she’d kind of been avoiding for a couple of years. “What’s wrong with the way we’ve been doing things for the past four years? We’re good together. The kids’ camp was your idea.”
“It was your idea. I just helped figure out the logistics. And the—”
Somebody rapped at the door. Jumping, Eleanor spun around and yanked it open. Thank God. A distraction.
Phillip Eaton stood there, his hand still raised in a fist to knock. “Oh. I—your salads are ready. Do you want them up here or out on the porch? We have a nice breeze going today.”
“The porch, please.” Eleanor slipped past him before he could step back. A few minutes. Just a few minutes to think. Because Brian had called her out on the running-away thing, and he was right. She did run, avoid sticky situations rather than confront them. But apparently this time he meant to chase her until he had some answers. And honestly, if the past day had proven anything, it was that she needed to figure some things out for herself too.
“Shitty timing, Phil,” Brian commented as El darted out the door in the direction of the stairs.
“I—sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I needed a couple of minutes to regroup too.”
The proprietor cocked his head. “Are you two a…a thing, then? I thought she was dating Roderick Bannon. And my wife said somebody in here slept on the couch last night.”
“We were a thing,” Brian said, stuffing his phone into his sweatpants pocket. “What we are now is kind of up for debate.”
“They said this morning that her new movie is on hold because of all the costume stuff. That’s why she’s hiding out here, I presume?”
“Who said?”
“On the TV. Good Morning America.”
“You have a television?”
Phillip’s face flushed. “Well, a small one, in our bedroom. We like to keep up with the news and everything. Don’t let that get around to the other guests. No televisions is kind of our thing here.”
“Hey, you keep our secret safe, we’ll keep yours.” With a quick grin, Brian motioned the older man to precede him down the hallway. With the swiftness that things churned in a twenty-four-hour news cycle, it was helpful to know that El’s costume was still national entertainment news even if he wished that wasn’t the case. Of course the popularity of Eleanor herself contributed to that, a kind of weird catch-22.
But however much the costume and this part meant to her, for him, all that came in a distant second today. As uncomfortable as the conversation made her—and him, now that he’d realized he had been pushing his own agenda on her this whole time—it needed to happen. They needed to get this mess straightened out. However much it would hurt for him to leave her employment, he’d learned from experience that watching her be happy with somebody else would be worse.
Phillip’s wife Joan stood talking with Eleanor on the patio, two very large salads and the one set table next to them. “We’re all booked again tonight, but no one new is coming in until tomorrow.”
“I was just wondering,” Eleanor returned with one of her gracious smiles. “I know I can be a disruptive presence.”
“Oh, nonsense. You aren’t our first celebrity, Miss Ross. In fact, the lack of televisions here is one of the accommodations we’ve made for that very reason.”
Except for the one they kept in their room. They would need to know who their guests were, though—some celebrities might like a degree of anonymity but hated to be completely unrecognized. Brian took the seat opposite where El was standing. “Thanks for that,” he said aloud. “If you could arrange selective internet, that would be even better.”
“We’ve tried, believe me. People and their phones. It’s worse than an addiction, I swear.” Joan shook herself. “Don’t get me started. Anyway, let me know if you need anything else. I’m baking chicken for dinner tonight, if that’s acceptable.”
“That sounds perfect,” Eleanor put in. “Thanks, Joan.”
“You are very welcome, my dear.”
Once the proprietors had retreated into the house, Eleanor pulled her salad closer and picked up her fork. “They’re nice. How
much extra are you paying for the lunch and dinner service?”
Shrugging, Brian dug into his own lunch. “I don’t know yet. But it’s worth it, since our only alternative is a couple of frozen burritos stuck to the ice cream at CVS. And yes, I checked.”
“See? This is nice. What’s wrong with going on like this?” She gestured between the two of them.
“Because it doesn’t go anywhere. Do you just want us to hang out together forever while you date jerks and I… Well, I’m not dating anybody else. Not while I’m around you.”
Her mouth tightened. “Brian, I like you. I do. But this right now is—”
“It’s safer. Like I said, you can fire me if you start to get too dependent on having me around. But it’s not enough for me. So I’m either in all the way or out all the way.”
She jabbed at her lettuce and bacon bits. “If it was just you deciding all this, where would we be?”
“You wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch, for one thing. And I wouldn’t be living in a condo in Brentwood.”
“We’d be living together, you mean. And sleeping together.” She sipped at her lemonade, which also looked homemade. “And not going anywhere from there would be okay with you? Your requirement is sex and exclusivity?”
If he said yes to that, would she agree to it? For him, it would mean that she would be safe and protected and someone would always be looking out for her best interests. That he could be with her and inside her and that she couldn’t fire him. For her, it would mean she could still escape if she needed to, because they wouldn’t be bound together by rings or any of that pesky marriage and till-death-us-do-part stuff.
“It’s a start,” he said slowly. “But it’s not enough.”
“We went through this before, and we weren’t right for each other. What makes you think that we are now?”
“Dammit, Eleanor, I didn’t think we were wrong for each other. I don’t even know why it was you decided that we wouldn’t work. It would help if you told me.”
That made her grimace, but she didn’t stand up or pretend her phone was ringing or something. That in itself had his heart beating a little faster. This might not go the way he wanted, but one way or the other, he would know.
I Loved You First Page 6
