Playing the Part

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Playing the Part Page 15

by Robin Covington


  “You’re saying she set you up?”

  “Apparently. I just don’t understand why.”

  Chris jumped in, his hands white-knuckled and fisted at his sides. “I know why. Tanya is pissed you aren’t fucking her anymore.”

  “It just doesn’t make any sense. That wasn’t what we were about. It was just casual fun.” Mick blew out a breath as he raked a hand through his hair.

  Piper considered what he said. It rang with truth—this was Mick—the man she was in love with. The man who only did casual. The man who would never change. The man who didn’t fall in love.

  The man who would never love her back.

  “I don’t think she agreed with you,” she said.

  Chris stepped into Mick’s space. “Okay, say we believe your story about Tanya. What’s the deal with the twenty thousand dollars and the e-mails proving you were in on leaking those photos to the press?”

  “I don’t have to answer to you,” Mick snarled.

  “Mick. Just answer the question.” Piper slumped against the table, a migraine licking at the edges of her brain, conflicting emotions sending her stomach roiling. “Was the money from your account?”

  He looked pained but met her gaze squarely when he answered, “Yes.”

  She nodded. “How do you explain that?”

  “I can’t.” He reached out a hand in a placating gesture, like he was approaching an animal in the wild. “At least, not yet.”

  “And the e-mails and texts?”

  “All from my own account. All verified by my IT guy just a little while ago.”

  “You want Piper to believe you didn’t sell those photos? With the money trail and the information all linking directly back to you?” Chris voiced exactly the questions rioting in her mind.

  “Someone must have hacked into my account. It might have been my manager or another pissed-off employee. I’ve got people working on it.”

  “Those stories and excuses are a lot for Piper to swallow all at once,” Chris stated evenly. “Too much coincidence to be believed.”

  Mick turned to her. “Piper, I need you to trust me. Give me some time to figure this out.” His resolve was communicated through every muscle in his body.

  Trust. Yes, that would be the solution to all of this, but she couldn’t say she had it in her toolbox to offer to anyone.

  Piper stared, her brain hurting with the effort to process all the crap thrown at her in the last hour. She made her way over to the table that was covered with the article and photographs now gracing the newsstands and computers of America. With icy hands, she pulled the pages over to her and reviewed them again.

  Most of the article was trash, all speculation, but enough of it was true to make her hesitate. By Mick’s admission, the e-mails and texts were real, and the photos with Tanya had been real. The truth and lies were all mashed up together, and she didn’t know what to believe.

  Shame on her that she still couldn’t trust the man she knew she loved. Antonio had broken that part of her, and she didn’t know how to fix it. But without it, she wasn’t sure how any relationship with Mick would work out. He was always going to be the focus of women determined to get in his bed, and she was always going to be insecure. Not the best beginning for any couple.

  “Chris, can you leave us alone for a few minutes?”

  “Piper.” Chris’s anguished voice screamed in surround sound just how much of a bad idea he thought this was. “I don’t think I should.”

  She walked the few steps over to grab his hand and give it a squeeze, her heart contracting at the same time at the protective look on his face. He couldn’t fight this battle for her no matter how much he wanted to.

  “I need you to let me handle this one on my own. Okay?”

  “Fine. I’ll be in your office.” He stopped and leveled a look at Mick. “One word from her and I’ll kick your ass.”

  “Back off, man. I didn’t do it.”

  “You might not have hit ‘send’ on the e-mail, but you’re responsible. The buck stops with you.”

  She watched as Chris walked to her office, entered, and closed the door before she turned back to Mick. He moved toward her and she backed up, her hands shooting in front of her in defensive gesture.

  “Piper.”

  “Mick. I need you to go away.”

  “Talk to me.” His voice was ragged and desperate. “Scream at me. Tell me to fuck myself. But let’s work it out. I can fix it. I always fix it.”

  She was struck by the look on his face—cocky and put out but not outraged. He didn’t have a clue what this meant to her. This was just another Hollywood game to him. “What—we go out to dinner again and this all goes away?”

  “It’s just PR gone bad. Let me make a few calls, and we can sort it out. Hell, we can sue these people if you want.”

  “Mick—my career isn’t going to survive another long-term scandal. A trial? Accusations that are only going to get uglier? Everyone knowing that once again I have the worst taste in men?” She shoved at his chest with her hand, ignoring the shock on his face. “You can’t just fix this, Mick.”

  “I can fix anything. Just give me—”

  Piper lifted her hands up to warn him off as he took another step toward her. She wanted to believe him and would probably buy any explanation he gave—and that scared the shit out of her. She needed space and time to figure this out without him so close in proximity, making it impossible to think straight.

  “Mick, I don’t know if I believe you, and I really don’t care right now. Just go.” Tears welled in her eyes as she begged, “If you care about me at all, leave.”

  He pointed to the spot where they’d made love just a few days ago. “Just a few days ago you believed. I have enough faith for both of us until you can trust me.”

  Oh my God. He was being too sweet, too willing, and she wanted to give in, to cave and let his faith be enough for both of them. But she couldn’t do that. “I need some time.”

  “No. I give you time, and you figure out a way to put distance between us again. I know how this works for you. You shut down and I get shut out, and then you make the decision for both of us.” He stalked to her, grabbing her arms and pulling her to him for a hard kiss.

  Her hands lifted on their own and her nails dug into his shoulders, her mouth opening to him and allowing him to plunder until they had to separate for air.

  She loved him, but she needed to end this before it ended her. “I don’t think you’re good for me. I’ve got too much baggage from what happened with Antonio, and with you, I’m always going to wonder when that other shoe is going to drop.”

  “I’m with you because I want to be. And I can handle whatever happens. It will all work out.”

  “You said that before.” Her words came out on a choked sob, fueled by part sadness and part anger. “You promised me that before and look what happened.”

  “I would never hurt you.”

  “But you did. You do.”

  “That isn’t fair.” Mick barely got the words out, his voice pained and his breathing unsteady. The wounded look on his face told her that he wasn’t the only one who was getting hurt today.

  “You see? We keep hurting each other. That can’t be how love is supposed to be.”

  Mick paled under his mocha skin, the grip on her shoulders loosening with his shock. She stepped closer, reaching out to touch him but pulling her hand back at the last moment. This was hard enough.

  But there was something she needed to say, because this is where it ended. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I do love you. I just don’t think I can be with you.”

  They stood there for a few moments, staring each other down, waiting to see who would blink first. Piper’s stomach clenched with tension and she held her breath, waiting for him to give up and leave. When he lowered his eyes and nodded in defeat, the pain ripped through her like one of the explosions in his movies.

  He silently steadied himself for a moment. When
he lifted his face again, it was devoid of emotion. “I can’t tell you the same thing, and if you think… If that’s how you feel, then it’s probably best if I go. I can’t… I don’t…” His voice was icy enough to put goose bumps on her flesh.

  He gave her a look—part apology and part something she couldn’t read—and then he walked out of her life.

  She bit her tongue to resist calling him back as he walked through her door. She stood there, body numb with the shock at what had just occurred. It hurt like hell—at least it would when her heart thawed out—but it was the right thing to do. For both of them.

  With a deep sigh, she lowered herself to a chair, brushing away the tears pooling in her eyes. Dammit. Put on your big girl panties and get a grip. Her thoughts were jumbled, tumbling over one another until she wanted to scream in frustration. She needed to get all of the people—the press, her publisher, Mick—out of her head and focus on what she had to do next.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks and into her hair, and all she could do was let them fall. She was tired of looking over her shoulder. Tired of worrying about what everyone else thought. Tired of being disappointed. Tired of letting the past dictate the rest of her life.

  But she didn’t know how to put it behind her.

  The last vestiges of her control faded away, and she buried her face into her hands and cried like a baby.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mick sat down on the couch in Lincoln’s living room and drew the papers out of the envelope Jack had slid across the cushions. Lincoln watched from a perch on a chair on the opposite side of the coffee table, making no effort to hide his curiosity.

  He’d arrived home from New York two days earlier, alternatively pissed off and baffled by what Piper had said to him. Back-to-back promo for Dark had left him little time to focus on the investigation, but when Jack had called an hour earlier, stating he had urgent information and needed to meet him at Lincoln’s house, he’d rescheduled an interview and left Lewis in the pool house, going over publicity opps.

  “This report contains the results of the investigation by your security team into what Lewis was up to the last year,” Jack explained, pointing to the top page of the sheaf in his hands.

  “The last year?” Mick paused in his review of the documents, confused over the expanded timeline for the investigation.

  “Yes. They found so much within the last six months that we all thought we should go back a little further.” Jack’s expression was serious. “Mick, I needed more information on Lewis than your usual team could get me. So I hired a private firm to help out.”

  Mick knew he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. Jack was usually an easygoing person, always ready with a smile and assurance that he could handle things quickly and efficiently. His current demeanor was deadly serious and very angry.

  “I didn’t ask you to do that,” Mick stated, devouring the facts detailed on the report.

  Jack shrugged, his tone and look unapologetic. “I know. I have a PI friend, and he owed me a favor.” He leaned over, pointing to a clipped bunch of documents lying in Mick’s lap, tapping the one on the top. “It turns out it was a great idea. Lewis has been a very bad boy. He was the one who paid Jung Kim the twenty large to let the photographer onto your property in Hawaii. And Lewis was the one who arranged for their sale to the tabloid.”

  Mick leafed through the pictures. With each image, each document, the fury building in Mick’s blood blurred his vision until everything swam in a field of red. But his hearing worked just fine, and he listened to every sordid detail.

  “He’s had you followed by a photographer for weeks. He’s on the payroll of several of the trashier publications for information on you.” Jack reached over and pulled out a photograph of Lewis with Tanya Roberts, deep in conversation at an LA restaurant. “He also had an agreement with Tanya to trap you in London and to sell the pictures.”

  “Was Tanya really that pissed off at me that she would pair up with Lewis? She called him the weasel.” The question ground out of his mouth between gritted teeth.

  “According to her statement—”

  “Her statement?”

  “Yes. Our guy in London talked to her after the story broke but before she headed back to the States. She had a change of heart when confronted with the knowledge that we knew all about her deal with Lewis. She did set you up out of spite, and while she’s very sorry now, I’m not sure if it’s because of what she did or the fact she got caught.”

  “I bet I can guess which one it is,” Lincoln grumbled from across the room, his face hard with anger. “This is just up her alley.”

  Mick shook his head, trying to clear it enough to get a clear picture on what he’d been told so far. “So, you have proof of all of this?”

  Jack nodded. “E-mails, texts, electronic maps of where and when Lewis withdrew the money from your account. I have a packet of the information we need to turn over to the police, but there’s plenty left over to take our own action against him.”

  “Piper lost her contract,” Lincoln added. “It was in the e-edition of a publishing blog this morning. Her publisher cut her loose.”

  “Because of all of this?” Mick asked.

  “They cited ‘creative differences,’ but I talked to Chris this morning. They’d been looking for an excuse since she missed her book deadline a year ago. This was it,” Jack answered.

  “Fuck.” Mick buried his head in his hands, the pain where his fingers gripped his hair a relief compared to what he was feeling inside. “I’ll call them.”

  “You can’t fix it this time, Mick,” Jack said, his tone resigned. “I checked.”

  “Call him in here,” Mick demanded, straightening up.

  “Who?”

  “Lewis. He’s thirty yards away, in my house. Call the motherfucker in here. Now.”

  Minutes later, Lewis walked into the room, his phone in his hand, thumbs at the ready to text and execute.

  Mick wasted no time getting to the point. “You’re fired.”

  “What?” Lewis staggered but stayed on his feet by grabbing the end of the couch.

  “I know what you did. The photographer you hired. Tanya.”

  “You can’t fire me. I worked my fucking ass off to build your brand, to sell Mick Blackwell to the public,” Lewis shouted, his breath coming quickly and his face going red. He strode up to Mick, stopping just short of touching him but communicating his message quite clearly.

  “I don’t care. Your actions cost Piper her contract. You smeared my name all over the papers by dealing with these criminals.”

  “You told me to do whatever it took.”

  “Not this. Never this.”

  “You can’t be serious about throwing all of this away for a chick with big tits who likes to take it up the ass,” Lewis ground out. His voice was rough, but Mick heard every word. And so did everyone else in the room if the sudden silence was any indicator.

  Mick had spent a lot of time hitting people on the big screen. He’d trained with some of the best stunt men in the industry to learn how to roll out of a fall, to jump from high up, and to make it looked like he’d punched someone’s lights out without even coming near them. But the sensation of his fist hitting Lewis in the face was at once both painful and the most satisfying feeling he’d experienced outside of the bedroom.

  He kept his eyes open the entire time, so he saw Lewis’s surprised and shocked awareness of what was happening, the two to three second delay on Jack and Lincoln’s reactions, and the way Lewis bounced slightly when his body hit the floor. The asshole would probably sue him, but he didn’t care. He’d fight any lawsuit from here until doomsday before he’d let anyone talk about Piper that way.

  “You dick! I’m going to sue you!” Lewis shouted, on cue, from his position on the ground. He struggled to get up, the blood-covered hand clamped over his nose.

  “Go ahead. You’ll need something to do now that you’re unemployed.” Mick glanced at Linco
ln, massaging his hand where it was beginning to swell. It didn’t feel broken, but it still throbbed. “Call security and have them come get this guy.”

  Lincoln nodded, picking up the house phone to call down to the security shack. Within minutes, two large guards were barreling through the living room door, their backs rigid with obvious apprehension over what they might find here.

  Lewis, now standing near the fireplace with a wad of tissues pressed against his face, shot him an acid glance, the hatred in his eyes enough to make Mick consciously lock his feet in place to stop himself from taking a step backward. Maybe Lewis had been the better actor, because that kind of enmity didn’t just pop up overnight. He wondered how long he’d had a viper in such close proximity…and when Lewis would strike back in revenge.

  Lewis pulled away from the guards, starting to make a show of resistance, but gave it up when the bigger of the two grasped him around both arms and began to manhandle him out the door.

  “Whoa! Wait.” Mick walked over to the three men, reached inside Lewis’s jacket pocket, and pulled out his smartphone. He waved the device back and forth in front of Lewis’s face, perversely enjoying the way his coloring was turning a pissed-off shade of purple. “I pay for this, so I’m keeping it. I’ll need it to give to my new manager.”

  “You have no fucking clue what you’re doing. Your career will fall apart without me,” Lewis snarled.

  “I doubt it,” Mick replied evenly, then nodded for the guards to take him outside.

  He turned and took the few steps necessary to get to the minifridge at the bar and scoop out a few ice cubes into a napkin. Easing the little bundle onto his knuckles, he sighed at the relief it brought to the bruise he could already see forming under the skin. He’d have to tape it up for the next few days and ward off reporter’s questions about how it had happened. Great. Between the injury and Lewis being fired, some reporter would start sniffing around even if Lewis didn’t start blabbing. He’d signed a confidentiality agreement, but Mick didn’t fool himself for one minute that Lewis would abide by it.

 

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