Bad Attitude

by Tiffany White

  It was noon and still raining cats and snails and puppy dog tails when Molly returned from touring both the Jesse James Wax Museum and the spectacular Meramec Caverns. They must have been the perfect hideout for the James Gang, affording shelter to both men and horses in the early 1870s.

  The rare colors of the unique mineral formations in the caverns were breathtaking, but the most impressive sight had been the seventy-million-year-old Stage Curtain formation that stood seventy feet high and was sixty feet wide.

  But Jesse James and the caverns weren’t on her mind at this moment. Mitch and Heather were.

  She’d stopped by Heather’s trailer on the way back and knocked on her door. There had been no answer.

  This was more than a friendly little visit. The crew was going to talk. That didn’t bother her as much as whom they were going to talk to. All she needed was a scandal between Mitch and a married woman to hit the tabloids. Didn’t he have a brain in his head? Probably not, when presented with such a tempting sight as Heather Simms.

  Back in her trailer, she kicked off her white leather sneakers and attacked a leftover Danish. When she’d done enough damage to her hips, she regained control of her thoughts, banishing the image of Mitch and Heather, alone and very much together.

  She knew that moving water produced an environment high in negative ions; that made heavy rain give people a sexual turn-on. But she was the one who was restless, she was the one with the problem, not Mitch or Heather.

  The problem must be turning her green eyes even greener, Molly reflected. If she were honest, she’d admit she was smitten. Already half in love with him before she set foot in the Midwest, it would be too easy to fall completely in love with Mitch now.

  But she couldn’t change herself to fit the type of woman Mitch might go for. She would never be a size two and had promised herself she’d never change to please anyone but herself. She had to remain true to her vision of who she was and wanted to be.

  It had been a very hard lesson to learn, but Molly knew she’d wasted too many years, trying to fit the role of perfect daughter for her parents. They had loved her almost to death, smothering her until she couldn’t breathe.

  She recalled being driven to school and picked up by her mother, not allowed to participate in any athletic activities because of the potential risk. She’d studied astronomy for her father’s sake, because it made him feel as if Joey wasn’t completely gone from their lives. They had fulfilled her every need, with the result that she’d had to learn to do even the simplest things, once she’d graduated and was on her own. Learning to drive a car had been a major triumph—at the advanced age of twenty.

  In the end playing a role hadn’t worked. It had made her parents happy, but she’d been miserable. She’d only become happy when she’d given up trying to be what her parents wanted and followed her own instincts.

  If there was even the slightest chance Mitch might love her, he was going to have to love her for who she was—stubborn, mouthy and flawed. But why would he be interested in her, when he literally had his pick of all the beautiful women in the country? She had to get a grip on herself.

  She wasn’t thinking straight. She was smart enough to know that women were hard-pressed to have a family and a career. Having both with an actor was a rank impossibility. She would have to give up her hard-won independence. Something she’d never do.

  Yes, but … her little voice coaxed. Some things are worth sacrifice.

  Realizing she was letting her libido take control, Molly forced herself to abandon the path her destructive thoughts were taking.

  She was eyeing the last Danish when a knock sounded on the door and someone called that she had a call from L. A. Slipping her sneakers back on, she went to take the call. Was this just Peter’s paranoia checking up? Or had he somehow heard about Mitch’s fall from the skateboard?”

  “Hello, Mr. Ketteridge.

  “Tell me filming is ahead of schedule,” he barked.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not.”

  “How is filming going?” He didn’t sound pleased.

  “Well, if you must know, production is presently shut down.”

  “What! What’s going on? Why haven’t you called me?”

  “Don’t get all excited, sir, it’s not Mitch’s fault this time. I can’t do anything about the weather. We’re having driving rainstorms here, and it’s predicted to rain for several days.”

  “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Ms. Hill? Where’s Mitch?”

  “Mitch? He’s still in bed, I guess.”

  “Do you know what time it is?”

  “Yes, I know what time it is.” She shook off the image of Mitch lying naked in bed. “He hasn’t left his trailer, so he can’t be getting into any trouble.”

  “I want you keeping an eye on him to see that he doesn’t.”

  “Will you quit worrying, Mr. Ketteridge. I have everything under control,” she lied.

  Peter Ketteridge’s next words had her suppressing a laugh. “Your idea about keeping my mother busy backfired. Do you know she’s making me come to dinner every night to eat the recipes she’s test-cooked?”

  “Think of it as a good way to save money on expensive dinners out. With the money you save, you can afford to maintain your temperamental sports car.” It amused her no end that a powerful man like Peter Ketteridge couldn’t control his determined little slip of a mother.

  “Don’t talk about my car—my mother’s gotten involved with it now, too.”

  “Good, then she did find a mechanic for you.”

  “I’m glad you think it’s good. I’m appalled.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with the mechanic your mother picked out?”

  “She picked out a woman,” Peter said with a heavy sigh.

  “So … ”

  “A single woman mechanic.”

  This time Molly’s laugh escaped. “Are you telling me that the next time you call, it might be to announce your engagement?”

  “I am not amused, Ms. Hill.”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “I keep telling my mother I have no intention of marrying anytime soon. Why won’t she listen?”

  “I don’t know. I keep telling my mother the same thing. I guess it’s not what mothers want to hear from their only children.”

  “What’s new otherwise?” Peter asked.

  “You tell me. I’m the one stuck out in the boonies, without the niceties of civilization like Variety and Hollywood Reporter. How did Unexpected Pleasures do, by the way?” Molly asked. Peter’s pet project had just opened.

  “It grossed $10.4 million.”

  “I guess your star director is flying high—and so is his new asking price.”

  “I hope Jesse does as well.”

  “Don’t worry, it will. I’m willing to bet it will blow the lid off previous grosses for Mitch Marlow films. All it needs is a really good trailer to go with the theme song Mitch wrote.”

  “How do you know about the theme song?”

  “He sang it for me the other night. It’s beautiful.” She didn’t mention it wasn’t the love song everyone was expecting.

  “I told you not to go and get personally involved, Ms. Hill.”

  “I’m not. I told you I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”

  “Then how come he’s singing you love songs?”

  Molly took a deep breath. “He only sang it for me because he wanted my opinion, and he figured I would tell him the truth if it stank. What’s that noise?”

  “Alka-Seltzer fizzing in mineral water.”

  “Whoa, you need to relax. I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you get tickets to a Lakers’ game? You can go relax and make your mother happy at the same time.”

  “Would you explain to me how my going to a Lakers’ game is going to make my mother happy?”

  “I was thinking you could take that single lady mechanic your mother found for you.”

&n
bsp; Peter Ketteridge hung up.

  DASHING THROUGH the raindrops, she passed Angie on the way back to their trailer.

  “Hey, you didn’t happen to see Heather, did you?” she asked. Angie was polishing off the last Danish, licking the crumbs from her fingers.

  “As a matter of fact, I did see her when I headed over here. She was leaving Mitch’s trailer. You want me to tell her you’re looking for her?”

  “No. No, that’s okay. Look, we’re both getting soaked. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

  Angie nodded and continued on her way while Molly headed for Mitch’s trailer.

  She didn’t have any idea what she was going to say to him. How was she going to warn him about spending time alone in his trailer with Heather without appearing to be jealous? But all jealousy aside, her main concern was keeping him out of the tabloids.

  Reaching his trailer, she knocked.

  “It’s open,” he yelled.

  She went inside, but he wasn’t in the living area.

  “Come on back.”

  Molly hesitated only a moment, then followed the sound of Mitch’s voice to the bedroom in back.

  “Are you decent?” she called as she approached.

  “Which answer will get you back here?” he countered, his voice a deep growl.

  “Are you covered up?” she persisted, waiting for his reply. She wasn’t prudish or likely to be shocked by the sight of a naked man. She just didn’t want to encourage her lustful impulses.

  “I’m covered up, Red,” he assured her.

  Shaking her head, Molly went into the small bedroom. Mitch was lying in bed, his leg propped on a stack of pillows. A sheet covered him—sort of. It was draped across his groin and uninjured leg.

  The daring look in his eyes telegraphed a signal that it was the only thing covering him. So, of course, that was the only place her eyes wanted to look. With a supreme effort of willpower she forced her gaze toward his face. It wasn’t exactly a turn-off.

  His blond hair was mussed. Had Heather mussed it? The ghost of a golden beard shadowed his lean jaw, and his blue eyes were laughing at her. Damn him.

  “Do you really think this is such a good idea?” she asked.

  “What?” He made a stab at innocence, but it went wide of the mark.

  “You know what. Entertaining women in your bedroom.”

  “You want me to entertain you?”

  “What I want is …” Her eyes strayed for a second to his bare chest, perfectly squared and honed. “Ah, I want you to stop entertaining women in your trailer, period.” She held his gaze as she made her point. “Most especially married women.”

  Mitch ran his hand through his tresses. “Oh, I get it now. This is about Heather, isn’t it? I can’t believe it, Red. Why, you’re jealous of her, aren’t you?”

  “I am not...”Molly felt her face flame, heard the shrill tone of her voice and finished softly. “ … jealous of Heather Simms.”

  “You’re not?” He didn’t look at all convinced. “Then what’s this all about? I assumed, because you found out Heather spent the morning in my trailer, you—”

  “She’s married, Mitch.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then you must also know your spending time, ensconced in your trailer with a married woman, is just the sort of juicy gossip the International Intruder is looking for.”

  “Looking for? Grow up, Red. These tabloid reporters don’t look for stories like that to check out. They just make up whatever they think will sell copies that week.”

  “Like they made up that revealing photo of you and that woman nude cliff diving. The photo that got you a baby-sitter.”

  Mitch shrugged. “They only make up photographs sometimes. They usually go through people’s garbage and put bits and scraps together to come up with more garbage. “Your trouble is you worry too much. Besides, Heather’s visit was perfectly innocent.”

  “Innocent, with you dressed like that?”

  “If you must know, I had a robe on. I got undressed to get some sleep. Heather woke me up pretty early this morning, and I didn’t get much sleep, what with my ankle throbbing all night.”

  Molly sidestepped his ploy for sympathy. “What did Heather want?”

  “It’s really none of your business. You’re my baby-sitter, not my mother. But if it will make you happy, I’ll tell you.” He paused for effect. “She wanted to talk.”

  “Talk? About what?”

  “Boy, you just don’t quit, do you?”

  Molly waited.

  “Okay, okay. She’s nervous about her first big screen kiss.”

  “If you ask me, there’s something else I’d be more concerned about, if I were you.”

  “What’s that? Your telling Peter?”

  “No. That someone else is going to tell Sonny Simms about these practice sessions.”

  “Come on, Red, Sonny is a professional wrestler. He knows this is just business.”

  “Know what I think, Mitch. I think you’re too chicken to kill yourself, and you want Sonny Simms to do it for you.”

  6

  “SHE’S OVER THERE AGAIN.”

  Fuming, Molly walked away from the rain-streaked window. “On top of that, this appears to be one of those forty-day and forty-night rains.”

  Angie looked up; she lay sprawled on the love seat in the living area of the small trailer the two women were sharing. In her lap was a crossword puzzle, and she was tapping a pen against her front teeth as she pondered a word. Acknowledging Molly’s distress, she asked teasingly, “What do you think they’re doing over there? Drawing up plans for an ark, perhaps?”

  “Hardly. And if you don’t mind, I’m trying not to think about what they’re doing,” Molly said glumly, dipping a chocolate cookie into her morning coffee. “I had hoped my little chat with Mitch yesterday would have at least some kind of dampening effect.”

  “Don’t say damp,” Angie grumbled.

  Molly continued to be more worried about Heather than the weather. “Evidently Heather’s appeal outweighs the very real threat of her macho professional wrestler husband tearing Mitch limb from limb.” Peering over her cup of coffee, she asked, “Isn’t it foolhardy to work crossword puzzles in ink?”

  “Nah. It teaches me not to make mistakes, to think before I act. I’ve been known to have this problem with being impulsive. But even I admit it’s sometimes better to act on your gut instinct. So … why don’t you go on over to Mitch’s big ol’ trailer and tell Heather Simms it ain’t big enough for the two of you. Throw her out on her size-two bottom. After all, you were sent here by the Ketteridge Agency to baby-sit him and keep him out of trouble.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it would look like I’m jealous. Mitch already implied as much yesterday. He’s wrong, of course,” she protested, a little too vehemently. “I plan to be one of the best agents in town. But it takes more than developing a sharp business sense. Clients need understanding. They need to be nurtured and supported. That’s what the best agents give, along with their business acumen. Mitch isn’t allowing me to help him at all.

  “And if I fail here, I know what will happen. My parents will begin to smother me again with their concern. I’ll wind up letting them talk me into being what they want for me, rather than what I want.” Propping her elbows on the counter, she cupped her chin in her hand and sighed. “I can’t let that happen, Angie. I just can’t.”

  Angie inked in a word on the crossword puzzle, then looked at Molly consideringly.

  “What?” Molly asked.

  “You know, when you think about it, there might be something behind Mitch’s actions that you haven’t considered. He could be scared.”

  “Scared? Of what?”

  “Failure.”

  “I haven’t seen any evidence to indicate he’s afraid of failure, not when you consider he’s been doing his level best to
sabotage his career. Besides, his career is going extremely well.”

  “I agree that Mitch’s career is in enviable shape at the moment. But you know how this business is. Things can change overnight. The span of an acting career seems to be getting shorter and shorter. And I’m talking top-of-the-title actors, whose careers were red-hot just a film or two ago.”

  Molly nodded her head in agreement. “All it takes is a couple of wrong moves these days to spell disaster. So far Mitch has managed to fare better than his peers. You have to give him credit for making good choices in film roles.”

  “True, but remember Mitch and Matthew were very close. It’s quite possible Matthew helped Mitch make those good choices. In addition to the grief of losing his brother, Mitch may be feeling worried about making choices on his own, without Matthew as a sounding board. Of course, all this is mere supposition, but it could be the real reason behind Mitch’s bad attitude.”

  “It’s possible you’re right. There’s also that old chestnut about being too hot not to cool down. That could be concerning Mitch, as well. He’s had an incredible streak of luck at the box office.”

  “And he knows luck and timing play a major role in anyone’s career, most especially in the arts. Maybe you ought to just cut Mitch some slack,” Angie suggested.

  “I guess you’re right. Heather’s visits could be perfectly innocent, as Mitch says.”

  Angie laughed, a deeply suspicious laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “So you do think there is something going on between Heather and Mitch?”

  “All I’m saying is Heather’s up to something.”

  “Oh, that’s real encouraging, Angie, just exactly what I needed to hear.”

  “It’s not supposed to be encouraging. It’s supposed to be a warning. Heather is strong and independent. Don’t let her doe-eyed look fool you. She’s put in her time in acting classes and she’s been in a lot of failed pilots for television.