Second Act

by Herkness, Nancy

  “Photographers? Why would photographers be here?”

  Jessica sighed. “Do you know who Hugh Baker is?”

  Riya’s large brown eyes widened like a startled doe’s before she nodded.

  “He and I are dating, which wouldn’t be big news, except that we were engaged eight years ago and broke it off.”

  Relief spread over Riya’s face. “Oh, so you know. That makes me feel better.”

  “I know what?”

  “About how I . . . about Mr. Baker being the reason . . .” The other vet trailed off as she sensed Jessica’s incomprehension.

  But her words triggered hazy memories of a conversation in Hugh’s limousine. “Did Hugh send you here?” Jessica asked, making an effort to keep her voice even.

  “I had my résumé posted on a job website, saying I was looking for part-time work in the New York area. He got in touch with me and suggested I apply here, even though there was no job opening posted.” A worried crease appeared between Riya’s eyebrows as she tried to repair whatever damage she had done. “He said many very positive things about you and your clinic, so I became convinced this was the right place for me.”

  Jessica didn’t want to upset her godsend. “And I am thrilled that he did. You are going to be a great addition to the clinic.”

  A relieved smile lit Riya’s face. “I am thrilled, too.”

  “Hugh! Come in for a minute!” Bryan shouted from the door of the production trailer as Hugh walked by, headed for his limo.

  Hugh considered claiming that he was late for an appointment of some kind, but he owed Bryan for yesterday’s rescheduling. Of course, the director was taking full advantage of that. He’d worked Hugh like a dog today, shoehorning in extra scenes to speed up the filming. All Hugh wanted to do right now was fall into bed with Jess and go to sleep . . . after making love to her, of course. That thought sent a shot of adrenaline right down to his cock.

  However, he veered toward the trailer and plodded up the steps. “Good or bad?” he asked as Bryan waved him onto a chair in front of the large screen where the day’s footage was reviewed.

  “You tell me,” the director said. “Run that last scene with Meryl again,” he ordered the assistant.

  It was the foreplay scene between Julian and Sara, which started with some clever banter, moved into emotional confessions, and culminated in a hard, passionate kiss. Hugh had been surprised and relieved when Bryan had declared the second take a wrap.

  As he watched, he understood why.

  “I can’t believe the camera lens didn’t fog up,” Bryan said. “You two practically generated nuclear fusion. Every guy in the audience is going to thank you for what happens when he and his date get home.”

  Of course, he’d been channeling his feelings for Jess into his character’s reactions to Sara. Meryl, being the talented actress she was, had used his energy to feed her own responses.

  “If you do this for the actual love scene, it’s going to scorch right through the film,” Bryan chortled.

  “Meryl did half the work,” Hugh pointed out.

  Bryan shook his head. “That heat is radiating off you, ace, but I’ll make sure Meryl sees this, too. She needs to know what’s possible when a pro is acting at the top of his game.”

  Hugh wasn’t immune to compliments from a director whom he respected. His fatigue lifted somewhat. “I appreciate that, but it takes a talented director to make it happen.”

  Bryan grinned and slapped Hugh on the shoulder. “We are one helluva team. Now go get some sleep so we can make more magic tomorrow.”

  Hugh groaned inwardly about the Sunday shoot, but he’d agreed to it knowing that Jess had to work anyway.

  On the way to the hotel, he fell asleep in the limo, starting awake when the driver opened the door. Jess had texted him that she was already there, so he practically bolted down the hallway to the elevator, his haste prompted by the thought of how soft and warm she would feel in his arms.

  He strode out of the elevator into the suite, calling her name. She rose from the plush sectional couch, tossing aside the magazine she was reading, her face alight with welcome. He let his gaze wander over the swell of her breasts under her cream-colored sweater and the swing of her deliciously rounded hips as she walked toward him. He wanted to feel every inch of her sweet, lush body against him right now.

  They met halfway for a kiss that both shattered and healed him. She’d left her satiny brown hair loose around her shoulders, the scent of a citrusy shampoo drifting up from it. He buried his fingers in its waves to hold her while he drank in the slightly dazed light in her gray eyes and the temptation of her soft lips. “Jess,” he said.

  “Hugh,” she answered with a smile, tracing her finger over his eyebrow, along his cheekbone, and down to the corner of his mouth, her touch sending tiny flickers of pleasure over his skin. “I’m still not used to you.”

  He knew she meant how he looked, something he considered a genetic accident. He had long ago made peace with the fact that his appearance was a huge contributor to his success. When it came to Jess, though, he wanted her to love him, not his weirdly blue eyes. However, he made a joke of it. “Well, I intend to give you plenty of opportunity to become accustomed to me. All too soon, you’ll take my good looks entirely for granted.”

  She cupped his cheek with her palm. “That will never happen.” Her smile turned to a self-mocking grin before she pushed out of his embrace. “Like the good girlfriend of a movie star, I managed to lift my little finger and order us drinks and dinner from room service. Do you still like bourbon straight up?”

  Eight years ago, he thought drinking bourbon neat was both sophisticated and manly, so he’d taught himself to like it. Now that he didn’t have to worry about his image, he’d reverted to beer. But when Jess mentioned it, he had a sudden craving to taste the flavor of his aspirations. “It’s exactly what I want right now.”

  “Hard day on the set?” she asked, taking his hand to lead him into the living room, where a decanter and several glasses were arranged on a tray on the coffee table. A half-empty glass of white wine stood near where she’d been reading.

  She waved him to the sofa and poured the dark-amber liquid into a crystal tumbler. He simply watched her, taking in the curves of her backside under her jeans, the sure, efficient movements of her doctor’s hands, the way her hair rippled and flowed over her shoulders as she leaned forward. He cherished every detail of her.

  When she leaned back on the sofa to hand him the glass and snuggle up against his side, he wrapped his arm around her and sighed with contentment. “This is perfect.”

  “You haven’t tasted the bourbon. It’s a little better than the stuff you used to drink.” Jess picked up her wineglass. “So’s the wine, for that matter.”

  “The bourbon has nothing to do with it. It’s having you beside me that makes for perfection. I could drink rotgut and still be happy.”

  “When you say things like that, I think . . .” She trailed off, and Hugh looked down, trying to read her expression. But she was staring into her wineglass.

  “You think what?” His voice was sharper than he intended.

  She lifted her head and smiled. “I think you are a mighty big flatterer.”

  “That’s not what you were going to say.”

  “Okay, some things happened today that I need to talk to you about.”

  Alarm vibrated through him. “Good or bad?” he asked for the second time that evening.

  “Both.” She took a gulp of wine. “The good is that I hired that veterinarian you sent to me. She’s terrific and starts tomorrow, so thank you for that.”

  For a moment he didn’t catch the bombshell in her statements. He was about to say how glad he was when he realized she had somehow found out that he was responsible for Riya Agarwal’s job application. “What makes you think I sent her?”

  “She told me.”

  “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” He knew his voice was tight with annoy
ance.

  “It was a misunderstanding. She thought I already knew.” Jess turned toward him. “Why, Hugh? We weren’t dating then, so I don’t understand.”

  He shrugged. “A simple desire to help someone I’d treated badly. Maybe a little bit of atonement. You don’t have to feel guilty, because I got my assistant to do all the legwork of finding someone qualified.”

  “You mean Trevor, who claims you’re a dream to work for?” she said with a half smile. Putting her hand on his arm, she leaned in to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Carla says never to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’m just going to accept your vet with gratitude.” Then her voice turned stern. “But don’t do anything else like that behind my back.”

  He put up a hand in acknowledgment of his blunder. “I didn’t think you’d interview her if you knew I was involved. But you’re right. I overstepped a boundary.”

  “I like this new Hugh, who admits he made a mistake.” Her smile was teasing, but the underlying truth was real.

  “Eight years teaches you a lot of lessons.” He grazed his lips against her temple. “I hope Dr. Agarwal works out, for reasons both altruistic and selfish. You need the rest, and I want more of you.”

  She melted into him, her head on his shoulder, her hand burning a brand on his thigh through the denim of his jeans. For a long moment, he allowed cowardice to get the better of him, stroking his palm up and down the soft wool covering her arm as her body heat soaked into him.

  “All right, what’s the bad?” he finally prompted.

  She took a deep breath. “When I got to the clinic this morning, there were a bunch of photographers waiting. I might have yelled at them because they were upsetting one of my patients.”

  Hugh winced. He knew enough to imagine what those photos would look like. He didn’t care for himself, but he feared it would upset Jessica. “Next time, call me. I have people who deal with that all the time.”

  “I have people, too, you know. Carla called the local K-9 unit. I patched up one of their dogs last year, so they brought a couple of combat-trained German shepherds to scare away the paparazzi.”

  Hugh threw back his head and laughed. “I wish I could have seen that.”

  “Unfortunately, they also figured out where I live.”

  His free hand closed into a fist as relief turned to anger. “How many?”

  “About six or seven. There was kind of a swarm, so it was hard to count. Aidan had to bulldoze through them so I could get to the car tonight.” She shifted against him. “I don’t know how you bear it. They shouted horrible questions, asking if you’d cheated on me and that’s why I’d dumped you.” Her distress was clear.

  “They’re just trying to get a reaction on camera, but I’m sorry.” He pulled her closer against him, as though he could protect her from the paps that way.

  “You don’t have to keep apologizing. You can’t control them.”

  “But it’s my fault that they’re harassing you.” He knew she wouldn’t allow him to send a car and bodyguard to take her to and from work . . . yet. “We need to get in front of this story.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s only news because it’s new and we had a broken engagement. If we go on television as a couple and talk about it, there won’t be any reason for the paps to bother you any longer.”

  “Go on television?” She pulled away and turned to stare at him.

  “We could appear on It’s Showbiz tomorrow night if I get Trevor on it right away. We’ll do a quick interview and kill all the excitement about us.”

  She looked like a deer in headlights. “Do an interview on television? Like when you sit in one of those giant chairs and fend off scary questions from the host?”

  “It’s Showbiz isn’t like that. They keep it friendly so people like me will agree to do the show. Even the chairs aren’t that big.” He made his tone light to ease her anxiety.

  “What would I wear?” she asked unexpectedly.

  “I know a stylist who can help you with that. So you want to do this?”

  “Want to? No, but it makes sense.” She squared her shoulders as though she were about to face a firing squad. “I don’t want my patients and employees suffering because of me.”

  “Because of me,” he said, the nagging sense of unease flaring up again. For the first time in years, he regretted the extent of his fame.

  She reached up to brush her fingers through his hair, the gentleness of her touch sending tendrils of bliss curling through him. “I just have to get used to the side effects of being with you, that’s all.” She shoved off the couch. “Now let’s eat. I’m starved.”

  He stood but stopped her from going to the table by taking her hands. “We need to talk with the security firm I use as soon as possible.”

  “A security firm? That seems extreme.” Alarm clouded her eyes. “Won’t the TV appearance solve our problems?”

  “Up to a point.” Since his rise to stardom had been gradual, he’d had time to layer on the barriers around him. Jessica was being rocketed straight to the pinnacle of celebrity without any preparation. “Let me give Trevor a call and then we’ll enjoy our dinner.” His voice dropped to a deep rumble as he thought of what he’d planned for dessert. “After that, we’ll enjoy each other.”

  Chapter 19

  Jessica clutched Hugh’s hand as they followed their guide down the hallway to the set where Sherri Burns waited to interview them. Panic had wrapped a fist around her throat so she felt as though she couldn’t swallow, much less speak. She drew in a deep breath and reminded herself that Sherri was friendly.

  “You look like you’re facing the guillotine,” Hugh said, pulling them to a stop. He rubbed his palms up and down her arms and smiled at her, his eyes filled with encouragement. “Just be you, Jess. Say anything you want to. Talk about your work, the animals, the K-9 Angelz. Your passion will shine on camera. If there are any questions you don’t want to answer, toss them to me. I’m used to this.”

  He’d told her the same thing in ten different ways, but she needed to hear it again. She nodded. “I’ll be fine once I get started.” She hoped to God that was true.

  “Mr. Baker, we have to go,” the assistant whatever-she-was said urgently. “This commercial break is short.”

  “It’s all right,” Hugh said, still smiling at Jessica. “We can always make an entrance.”

  His utter lack of concern about the timing or the content steadied her. She started walking again.

  It had been a whirlwind of a day. Riya had started at the clinic. The new doctor found her footing very quickly, thank goodness, because that allowed them to get through more patients in less time.

  Jessica had barely had a moment to feel gratitude for the success of the part-time vet before she had to race home to meet Quentin, the stylist. She was hugely relieved when Quentin said it was all right for her to wear trousers, because the thought of making sure her skirt didn’t ride up on camera had fueled extra stress. He even permitted her to wear her own black dress pants, so she felt comfortable from the waist down, at least. Well, except for the sky-high black pumps he insisted on. He pointed out that she wouldn’t be walking on camera, so it didn’t matter if she wobbled on them.

  “We want you to look hot sitting beside Mr. Baker,” Quentin said as he held up a blouse on a hanger in front of her. “No, that color doesn’t speak to me.”

  After testing three other blouses, he had her try on a periwinkle-blue silk blouse with a high scoop neckline. “That’s the one,” he said. “It gives your eyes interesting depths.”

  “It does?” Jessica peered over his shoulder into the mirror but didn’t notice a difference.

  “Trust me, the camera will see them.”

  He’d added small gold hoop earrings and a gold cuff bracelet. “You don’t wear nail polish?”

  “I’m a veterinarian. It would last about thirty seconds.”

  “Right, let’s stay plain then. It goes with your backst
ory.” He stood several feet away, his eyes narrowed in assessment. “What to do with your hair?”

  Self-conscious, she touched her messy bun. “Is it that terrible?”

  “Terrible? No, no! It’s beautiful. That’s why I’m having a hard time making a decision about the best style. So many options!”

  She was pretty sure Quentin was sweet-talking her, but a glow of flattered pleasure flickered through her nonetheless.

  In the end, he decided on a loose bun, but it looked entirely different from when she did it. Little waving tendrils drifted beside her cheeks while the rest of her hair was twisted into a soft, graceful shape at the nape of her neck.

  “Okay, let’s get you to the studio for makeup,” he said, escorting her to the car waiting in front of her house. Evidently Hugh’s people had done their thing, because no paparazzi skulked outside her door.

  When he finished her makeup in the studio dressing room, Quentin had whipped off the protective cape and stepped back to evaluate his efforts. “You’ll make everyone think that Mr. Baker is a lucky man,” he said at last.

  A few minutes later, she heard Hugh’s voice in the hallway, and relief nearly swamped her. He walked into the dressing room and came to an abrupt halt, his gaze scanning over her and turning intense. “If Quentin wasn’t here, I would say something improper,” Hugh said, starting toward her again. “You look good enough to eat.” He grinned wickedly before bending down.

  Jessica laughed and put her hand on his chest to stop him. “Quentin has spent a long time dolling me up. Don’t destroy his handiwork. And your intonation was quite improper.”

  The stylist snorted. “Nothing you say could shock me, and don’t get me started on what I’ve seen go on in these dressing rooms.”

  Hugh dropped into the chair beside her and Quentin sprang into action, draping a clean cape over Hugh’s silver-gray shirt. Of course, it took about one-tenth the time to make Hugh camera ready as it had her. He shrugged into the dark-gray blazer he’d carried in and was ready to go.