by Dee J. Adams
“I’m from all over. I started on the East Coast and made my way across the country. Took me a few years. I liked my stops along the way and stayed in a few places longer than I intended.”
“Doing security work?”
He nodded. Private investigation could be considered security work. At least he thought so. Being the investigator he was, he already didn’t like her line of questioning or where it might lead. Probably best if he turned the tables a little.
“What about you? Where are you from?” He knew nothing about her other than she was the girl on television who made him smile. Although standing in front of him with perspiration gleaming on her smooth skin and her thick blond hair completely wrecked, she already surprised him. He would’ve bet most movie stars wouldn’t be caught dead without makeup or with their hair out of place.
“I’m originally from Texas, but came out here pretty young after my parents divorced. My mom had a sister out here, so...” She shrugged as if that explained it all.
“How young?” he asked.
“Fourteen.” Her gaze strayed as her mind appeared to wander. “A freshman in high school,” she said. “It was a tough year.” She looked back at him and smiled. “But things got better.” She opened her mouth—no doubt to ask another question—when a small blonde with a short spiky hairdo bounded into the room and saved his ass.
“Hey there!” the blonde squealed as she bent and hugged Julie, being careful of the sling on her arm. “I was a little frantic when I got to your room and you weren’t there. The bed was made and I had the horrible thought that something bad had happened before I got to you.” She hugged her again. “Jules, you can’t scare me like that.”
Something about her seemed familiar but Troy couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Sorry.” Julie looked up at her with sheepish eyes then glanced his way. “Oh, Cal, let me introduce you. Carrie Ann Larkin, this is Troy Mills.” She gave him a shy smile. “Mills, right?” she asked. “That’s what the nurse called you.”
Troy nodded, impressed with her listening skills. When she’d been bleeding to death in his arms, they’d only exchanged first names. Now he realized why “Cal” looked familiar. Carrie Ann Larkin had been in a disaster of a movie called Nowhere to Hide. The critics had been so harsh and the movie panned to such an extent that the joke had been everyone who’d worked on the film had nowhere to hide from the horrifying reviews. Dressed in miniscule shorts that showed off her tan legs and wearing high wedges that gave her an extra four inches, Julie’s friend looked the picture of Hollywood chic. With her perfect makeup and form-fitting strappy top, she was the kind of woman he usually photographed with a rich, cheating spouse.
Julie beamed at him and continued, “Troy Mills meet Carrie Ann Larkin. Or as I like to call her, Cal. She’s my soul sister and best friend.”
Carrie Ann took the few steps to shake his hand. She had a hell of a grip and good strength for just a little thing. “Hi. Nice to meet you.” Her brown eyes sparkled. “I hear we have you to thank for keeping our girl alive.”
Good news traveled fast. Troy shrugged and a zap of pain shot through his arm. “I happened to be at the right place at the right time.”
“More like the wrong place at the wrong time,” Julie scoffed.
He grinned. There was something absolutely riveting about her personality, and it went beyond watching her on television. Having her so up close and personal seemed to ignite every tiny cell of happiness he owned. “You think of it your way and I’ll think of it mine.”
She flashed her famous smile and took Troy down for the count. She could smile at him like that and nothing mattered in the world. Not his aching arm or current crappy assignment.
But as much as Julie Fraser intrigued him, it didn’t change the fact that she was the second reason he’d been on the red carpet to begin with. Sure, he was on Ari’s payroll as his bodyguard, but that was all a sham. A cover. Troy really worked for Ari’s wife, who lived in London and wanted the dirt on her husband. Tired of Ari’s philandering ways, Sophia Nepali had found Troy through a former client, and she’d hired him after a phone interview. Ari had no idea that his wife had actually hired Troy to spy on him. He was under the misguided impression that Troy was his new bodyguard because Seth, his old bodyguard, had scored a better job. Seth now worked in London driving Sophia Nepali. Troy was pretty sure Sophia thought he didn’t know, but Troy made it his business to know the dynamics of his clients. Ari, full of himself and not too interested in the people surrounding him, hadn’t cared where Seth went and barely registered Troy’s existence. That worked fine for Troy.
Sophia had been absolutely certain that her husband was fucking a Hollywood starlet. Specifically speaking...Julie Fraser. Disliking Troy’s usual routine of following a cheating spouse, Sophia had insisted he get up close and personal so he could watch Ari in action. Troy hadn’t wanted to, but Sophia’s desperation had sealed the deal. She wanted out of a loveless marriage, and she wanted to make sure her life remained comfortable when she did. Translation—stick it to Ari, who was worth millions, so she could get her half and fuck whomever she wanted whenever she wanted.
Not that Troy could blame her. She deserved a faithful husband. Anyone could fuck around, but once someone said the vows...that was the beginning as far as fidelity was concerned. Of course other circumstances definitely warranted cause for divorce. Abuse, for one. After the upbringing he’d had, Troy didn’t see how he’d be any type of husband material for any decent woman. There were too many reasons why he shouldn’t even attempt it. Maybe that’s why he steered clear of relationships. He didn’t want to get stuck in a bad one.
He liked Julie Fraser’s attitude, her sense of humor and the way she rolled with the punches.
Too bad.
If all went according to plan, his findings were going to expose America’s Sweetheart as the home wrecker she really was.
A little chunk of his heart broke off with the knowledge that he was going to bring her down.
Chapter Four
Back in her room, Julie shifted to find a comfortable spot in her bed. She’d be glad to get out of here and back to the coziness of her own home.
She would have stayed to chat with Troy longer, but Cal’s presence had put a stop to her game of Twenty Questions. Cal had been on location for weeks so it would’ve been rude to blow her off, although if anyone were to understand, it would’ve been Cal. Cal had been telling her for years to snag a guy. “You’re a famous movie star. You can get whoever you want.” But Julie had learned that wasn’t true. Some guys couldn’t put up with the media, or sharing her with the general population when out in public. Besides, she didn’t want just anybody. A little voice inside told her that she’d know when the right man came along, and she’d been listening to that voice.
She liked this guy. A lot. When was the last time she’d liked anyone in that way? When was the last time a man made her pulse leap and her palms sweat? Troy Mills was the kind of guy movie heroes were made from, the quiet, macho type with the dark good looks and hard body that women drooled over. Including her.
She may have been Hollywood’s current “it” girl, but the town changed “it” girls as fast as actors went through rehab. She knew it well. Today’s most beautiful woman was tomorrow’s worst dressed. This year’s Oscar winner was next year’s Razzie winner. She never deluded herself into thinking her star would shine forever, and she hadn’t started acting for that reason anyway. For as long as she could remember, she’d wanted to act, to lose herself in the identity of another. To bring emotion to people’s lives and make them feel. It was a rush when she did her job right.
Thanks to Troy Mills, she’d be able to continue to do her job.
She’d never met a man so low-key. So quiet. Usually, meeting a new guy meant deflecting a come-on or pickup line. Although there was an occasional man who interested her, she’d never been great at letting him know. She tended to let the guy lead the way, and had di
scovered there weren’t too many regular men capable of handling the pressure of her fame. Especially actors. She’d have thought that men competed with men and women with women, but she’d learned the hard way that vying for work was a relationship killer. The most ridiculous thing of all was the fact that she’d never hunted for fame. It had landed on her doorstep with the emergence of her first sitcom, and her life had hardly been her own since. She’d learned to take control, to swim the murky waters of Hollywood, but the reality of her life was nothing that she’d ever planned or expected. Breaking into movies had been more about gaining respect from her peers than the resulting attention. Dealing with a boyfriend like Lucas, who wanted what she had with alarming desperation, was something she vowed to never live with again.
Cal strolled into the room with a Snickers bar and soda from a vending machine. She split the candy in half and handed it to Julie. “That man is delicious,” she said around her bite. “I’ll fuck him if you don’t want to.” She waggled her eyebrows.
Julie sighed as she savored the chocolate. “Mmm, this is good. I needed a chocolate fix. Thanks. And, yes, I think I want to, so hands off.”
Cal chuckled, then executed a mock bow. “Your wish is my command, Your Highness.”
Julie bunched her eyebrows together. “Hey, isn’t there some Chinese proverb that says since he saved my life, I’m his for the rest of time?’
“You’re his or he’s yours.” Cal shrugged. “Something like that. I’ll Google it when I get home and get back to you.” She took another bite of chocolate, then sat on the chair next to the bed, her eyes full of remorse.
“What’s the face?” Julie asked. “Don’t tell me you still feel guilty for just now getting here. I told you I understood.”
“Yeah, well maybe you understand, but I don’t. The whole show must go on thing is bullshit. I should’ve been here with you. I should’ve...” She trailed off and closed her eyes.
“Cal, if anyone understands the demands of a movie set, it’s me. There was no way you could leave, and I totally understand. Now if you had missed my funeral...I might have been a little pissed off.”
Cal’s eyes shot wide open. “That isn’t funny. Don’t joke about something like that.”
Julie chuckled. “Relax, would you? I’m fine. I’m going to be fine,” she amended because Cal gave her banged-up arm a very deliberate look.
Acting class had brought them together over thirteen years ago. They were paired up for a scene and had been fast friends ever since. They’d even been in auditions together, trying for the same roles, but that hadn’t stopped their friendship from being stone solid. Julie’s career had blossomed with The Only Way, but Cal hadn’t been as fortunate. Though she’d worked steadily for years and made plenty of money, she hadn’t achieved the stardom she craved. Cal insisted that as long as she continued to work she didn’t care about her Hollywood status. Especially since Tinseltown changed its mind so often. She might not be the “it” girl now, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be a few months from now.
Julie had told her that the notoriety wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. That being photographed anytime she went out in public and having paparazzi follow her everywhere she went ranked right up there with getting a full body wax. It sucked.
“One day you’ll get it,” Julie had told her repeatedly. “Then you’re going to say, ‘Why didn’t you tell me it was like this?’”
“How did the shoot go anyway?”
Cal had been up north in the Black Hills shooting a period piece that was supposed to be a sleeper hit. But how many indie films had Cal worked on where she’d been assured the thing was going to be a hit? Julie had tried to tell her there was no way to predict a successful film, but Cal insisted this was the one. The movie that would take her out of the Nowhere to Hide shadow and launch her to the A-list where she belonged.
“It was fine.” Cal licked chocolate off her fingers. “I’m supposed to tell you hi from Leo Frost.” Leo was using the film to get his feet wet as a producer. As if the man didn’t already saturate the town with his presence.
“Ha.” Julie huffed. Leo Frost had been her costar in Dangerous Race. The guy had serious woman issues. “Was that before or after he tried to stick his tongue down your throat?”
Cal burst out laughing. “After.”
Shock dropped Julie’s chin to her chest. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t let Leo...” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Let Leo fuck me?” Cal asked. Her smile answered the question, and Julie’s eyes rounded wide. “Oh, c’mon, Jules,” Cal said. “I don’t know what your problem is with him.” She ticked off her fingers. “One, he’s gorgeous. You can’t tell me you don’t think he has the hottest bod in town. Two, he’s loaded with sex appeal.”
“And money,” Julie added wryly.
Cal nodded. “And money. That never hurts. Third, being seen with him could do wonders for my PR.”
Julie hated that Cal was willing to sell herself for PR. “He’s trouble, Cal. He’s all about the convenience. He’s not one to stick around.”
Shrugging a shoulder, Cal waved her off. “He doesn’t need to stick around. I’m not expecting that. I just need the exposure. Now that we’re back in town, when we get together it will be big news.” Her confident grin told a story all its own. Cal expected this plan to work.
* * *
Allen wanted to die.
For three days he’d lain flat because of a killer flu. He’d barely had the energy to stand up and piss, much less feed himself, so it was times like this when he thanked God for his mother...and the fact that he lived in the room over the garage of his parents’ house. Someone knocked at his bedroom door. Speak of the devil.
“Allie, I’ve got some soup for you,” she said, opening the door and sliding her big body through the frame.
He moaned. He detested when she called him Allie. Girls were named Allie, and he had never been a girl. “Set it on the table,” he mumbled into his pillow. “I’ll get it in a minute.”
“Don’t let it get cold,” she warned. “It’s no good cold.”
All right already! She’d been in the room for only ten seconds and he already wanted to kill her. How many times did he have to hear the same cold-food speech? He was twenty-seven years old for God’s sake. He knew food got cold if it sat out too long. He managed another grunt in response. No need to piss off Mom. He still felt like shit and needed her to cook and do his laundry. Not that she didn’t always do those things, but she bitched about it less when he was sick. How the hell did she think he had the time to do any of that crap for himself when he worked almost seventy hours a week?
These marked his first days of sick leave in the six years he’d been the I.T. guy at So. Cal. Electronics and Games. He’d accrued months of vacation time too, so he didn’t give a fuck if they missed him now.
“Do you want me to turn on the television for you?” she asked after she set the tray down with a clatter.
Anything to drown out her obnoxious nasal voice. “Yes,” he mumbled.
“What channel, honey?”
He didn’t fucking care! Just turn on the goddamn television and get out of the fucking room! She was the biggest fucking cunt on the planet. “Whatever it’s on is fine,” he gritted out.
He heard the static indicating the power and heard her flipping through channels even though he’d told her not to. Stupid fucking cunt.
“I’ll leave it on the news so you can catch up with the world,” she said. He heard the plop of the remote on the bed behind him. “The remote is right here if you want to change the station,” she said.
Get. Out.
She stood over him for a minute and when he didn’t respond, she left the room as quietly as she could, which considering she weighed about two hundred and fifty pounds, wasn’t as quiet as she might have hoped. The door closed.
Alone. Finally.
He turned over and lifted droopy lids to see what he’d
missed the last few days. One thing his mother knew...he liked keeping track of the world. Especially people. Certain people. Certain famous people.
Entertainment Tonight came on. One of his favorite shows. They almost always had a tidbit about his favorite person in the world, and as the teasers flashed across the screen, he saw tonight was no different. Except the newsflash made his heart rate triple.
What? What had they just said?
Julie Fraser had been shot? She was in the hospital?
He forced himself to sit up and his head nearly exploded off his shoulders. The first story talked about Tom Cruise. He didn’t give a fucking rat’s ass about Tom Cruise. He had to know about Julie. His Julie.
There! His breathing nearly stopped as the camera flashed to the front of Hollywood Presbyterian Hospital. She’d been shot on the red carpet at the Sporties. After surgery to remove a bullet from her arm and one from her spleen, she was still recovering. Instead of flowers, any donations should go to cancer research and treatment.
Bullshit! The hell he would. She deserved the flowers. She deserved the world and he planned to give it to her one day. He’d been saving money like a fucking madman, sacrificing, living at home and investing every dime. He’d never approached her, but now was the time. He felt it in his bones. She needed him now more than ever and he had to prove he was the man for her.
His gut clenched when they showed the footage of the shooting. Someone had saved her. Thank God. His stomach churned watching the man carry her to safety. But he thought he might puke when the footage forwarded to the same man running as he carried her to the nearest ambulance. He stumbled and blood sprayed from his arm. Allen could’ve killed the guy himself for making the run to the ambulance. What the hell had he been thinking, giving the shooter another chance at Julie? Stupid bastard. The clip ended and the reporters talked about the man’s heroism. Gave an update on his condition without revealing his name. Allen focused on the fact that Julie was going to be all right. The show hosts moved on to the next story.
