Mick looked up to find Lincoln and Jack staring at him. “What? You think I shouldn’t have decked him?”
They both shook their head in the negative, then Lincoln asked, “I guess Piper means a lot to you, huh? Something you want to tell us?”
“I love her,” Mick answered. It was the truth. He knew it in his gut. It didn’t get any simpler than that, and he couldn’t think of one reason to deny it.
He bit back a laugh at the stunned expression on their faces. Linc had been his friend since middle school and Jack had been his attorney and friend for the last decade, so he could understand their shock. They’d listened to him rail against the restrictions of love and relationships often enough to think he’d never take the plunge. Four weeks ago, he would have agreed with them. But Piper was amazing, smart, talented, and funny, and he couldn’t help but fall for her.
“Then you definitely needed to hit him,” Lincoln said.
“You should have fired him years ago, Mick. For Lewis, it was always about Lewis, and he wasn’t looking out for your interests unless it also got him something,” Jack stated.
“I agree. Watch your back with him. He’s got a vindictive streak and isn’t afraid to use it,” Lincoln said.
Mick swiped a hand over his face. “What do you suggest?”
Suddenly using his “lawyer” voice, Jack handed him an official-looking document. “I’m concerned about what he’ll do with the information he’s gathered now that he’s been fired. I recommend we file an injunction on your behalf first thing tomorrow morning. It will stop him from publishing any remaining information he has to the public.” On a roll, he scooted his chair forward and thumped his hand on the coffee table. “I think we should also sue him for breach of contract and anything else I can throw at him.”
Mick stared down at the papers lying on the couch in front of him, processing the latest bombshell. This was just too much to take in. He winced at the thought of what he’d brought to Piper’s doorstep. His stomach churned with the full-force reminder that what they’d shared had been sold and published worldwide because Lewis paid some sleazy stranger to act as voyeur.
“Are there—” He swallowed hard, dislodging the brick of anger lodged in his throat. “Do you think he has any more pictures? Of me and Piper?”
The silence stretched for what seemed like hours before Jack finally answered. “I think he probably does.”
At those words, the ball of tension in his stomach roiled into something sharp, hot—a fireball of anger at how Lewis had destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to him. For the first time in the two days since Piper had broken up with him, the sensation of hatred directed at Lewis overshadowed the bone-deep longing for her and what they could have had. Lewis had ruined it all.
That son of a bitch.
Nodding to Jack, he gave him the go-ahead. “I want Lewis destroyed. Left with nothing. Now. Sue him for breach of contract. File the injunction. Have him thrown in jail and assigned a cell with a big guy named Bubba.”
“Done.”
Silence, heavy with Mick’s determination, spread throughout the room, until Lincoln broke it. “Mick. You need to let Piper know what Jack has discovered. Tell her about Lewis and Tanya. That will clear up everything between you two.”
Mick would have been lying if he denied that the exact same thought hadn’t crossed his mind the minute he’d seen the proof of his innocence. But his guilt wasn’t the only problem.
“No, Linc. The bottom line is that Piper is afraid—afraid to trust me, afraid to face the press and all the other assholes who want to bring us down. She needs to decide to do that on her own, come to the choice for herself, because I can’t spend the rest of my life always trying to prove myself when some tabloid prints a story.”
Lincoln shook his head. “But won’t this stuff do that? How can she deny it when it’s in black and white?”
“Because it isn’t about the facts.” Mick lifted a finger to touch the space just over his heart. “I screwed up, but now it’s about her believing she’s strong enough to get through all the bullshit and trust in us. I can’t do it for her, and I can’t convince her. She’s got to do that on her own.” It killed him to say it, but it was true. If Piper didn’t come to her own peace about their living in the spotlight, they’d just keep hurting each other.
“Bullshit.” Lincoln’s eyes were angry and hard. “You did this, Mick. Lewis was acting for you, and you need to be the one to make it right.”
“I don’t know how to do that.” He was no good at the big gesture. He’d never had to do it before.
“You’re ‘Mick Fucking Blackwell.’” Lincoln’s derision was highlighted by the air quotes he knew Mick hated. “You own this town, and you’ll do anything for your career. But you can’t do something for Piper? If you really love this woman—if you finally decided to grow the hell up and give a shit about someone else—then figure out how to make it right.”
Mick stared at Lincoln, unable to say anything. He suddenly saw himself as his oldest friend saw him, and it made him sick with shame. This was his fault—maybe not all of it—but enough to where he had to make it right.
And he knew if he didn’t, he’d never get Piper back, and that was something he wanted desperately.
If he didn’t make it right—he’d never deserve her anyway.
Chapter Twenty-one
For the first time in years, Piper had no looming deadline. No career. No book on the horizon. She’d left her apartment earlier in the day and had drifted about until she’d finally found herself at Chris’s apartment. He’d given her a key, so she’d let herself in and had proceeded to make herself at home. Now, she shifted her gaze to the bustling activity of New York City outside the window and stared. So many stories out there on the streets of her favorite town and not one of them spoke to her right now, not one begged her to commit it to pixels and code.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t write—she just didn’t feel like it. When she sat at the keyboard, her fingers moved like they belonged to someone else. Words appeared—good words, commercially marketable words—but none of them gave her the joy or peace that were to her like endorphins to athletes.
She missed Mick terribly, and nothing could break through the ache that constantly permeated her muscles, bones, and tissue. Antonio had been a body blow—swiftly painful and quickly numbed—but this was different. Maybe it was because she’d been the one to walk away this time. Maybe it was because she woke with Mick’s name on her lips and her skin aching for his touch. Maybe it was because she’d never loved Antonio the way she loved Mick.
“Should I knock?”
She turned to see Chris standing at the door to his own apartment. He was as handsome as ever, but the worry shadowing the lines on his face marred his otherwise perfect appearance. It was the same look he’d worn every time he’d come by to see her since she’d ended things with Mick two weeks ago. She regretted causing her friend that kind of worry.
“Hey.” She smiled at him and gestured to the mess on the countertop. “I got tired of being at my place and decided to make you dinner.”
“Ah, death by charitable food poisoning. My favorite way to go.” He edged into the room, caution mapped over every inch of his former football player’s frame. “Have you eaten today?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“You should at least call me Dad when I treat you like a toddler.”
“At least you can admit you’re being an overbearing pain in the ass,” she countered.
“Only because you’re starting to scare the shit out of me.”
His expression said he wasn’t kidding, and her heart did a little flip with the knowledge that she was causing this much concern. Time to put on her big girl panties and stop scaring her friends.
“Sorry. I know you’ve had a hard time lately. I just…”
“I know.” She reached up and squeezed his hand where it rested on the back of her chair. “And I love you for it.” Th
ey locked eyes for a while until they both chuckled with what had become a staring contest. Chris always could make her feel better. “So, here is my report for today: I did not adopt ten cats and change my will to give it all to the feline rescue shelter. Sound good?”
“More than I could hope for.” He set his messenger bag down on the coffee table and turned on the TV. He eased himself down on the couch, staring straight ahead as he surfed the channels. “Scott Crews is interviewing Mick in a few minutes.” He turned to look at her, the tension in the lines of his body telling her he was braced for impact. “You need to watch it.”
Her heart lurched and skipped a beat, which caused her to have to take a moment to catch her breath. “Why? I’m not going to comment, so I don’t know why I would bother.”
“Piper.” Chris waited until she looked at him. “Even if you don’t want to comment, it’s going to cause a stir, and you’ll be asked about it in the future. You need to be prepared.”
Hell. He was right. She didn’t want to, but she planted herself down on the loveseat across from the TV as Chris found the correct channel. The screen was filled with stupid commercials for a few minutes, and then the familiar title sequence for Scott Crews’s show came on.
The screen went black for the briefest moment before Mick was before her, larger than life and so very sexy. She stared, drinking in all the details: he was wearing one of her favorite shirts, and his face was a little thinner, more angular, since she last saw him. He was cautious, but only someone who knew him well would know the smile wasn’t genuine.
Scott leaned forward and shook hands with Mick, and then the interview began with them talking about his latest Dark movie and his career, namely the multiproject deal he’d just inked with the studio, which granted him executive producer status and backing for two non-Dark projects of his choosing.
“Good for you,” she breathed out.
“What did you say?” Chris asked.
“Nothing,” Piper answered, feeling her cheeks heat with embarrassment. She tuned back into the interview at the mention of Lewis King. Scott had mentioned that Mick had fired Lewis.
Mick responded, saying, “Lewis was my manager for ten years, and in that capacity he had access to private information involving not only me but the people close to me. I fired him and am now suing for breach of contract and other counts of violating my privacy. We have incontrovertible proof of his betrayal.”
“According to the evidence—which include texts, e-mails, and electronic data trails,” Scott said, “Lewis sold several tabloids information about you. And he and Tanya Roberts orchestrated the sexually incriminating photos of you that were published just a few weeks ago.”
Piper’s heart beat a heavy, rapid tattoo in her chest that almost drowned out the TV. She grabbed the remote and adjusted the volume higher. Mick had told her someone had set him up from the inside, but she never would have guessed it had been Lewis.
Mick nodded at Scott’s comment, saying, “Lewis paid the man who let the photographer onto my private estate in Hawaii and took intimate pictures of myself and a friend.”
“The author, Piper James?” Scott probed.
Mick paused for a moment, and Piper could see the pain flickering in his eyes for a moment before he used his impressive acting skills and wiped it away. She felt a selfish wave of comfort knowing he hadn’t moved on so easily.
After clearing his throat, Mick said, “Yes, Piper. The photographs and the accompanying articles hurt her deeply and embarrassed us both. What was supposed to have been a private time together was ruined by a jerk with a telephoto lens.”
“But Mick, it isn’t like you haven’t spent the last decade splashing your love life all over the headlines.”
Piper flashed a glance at Chris, who gave her a look of compassion.
“You’re right, but those were my choices. This particular incident was without permission and was done with calculated malice.”
She wasn’t sure she could watch another moment.
“Wait,” Mick said suddenly. “That isn’t entirely true. Lewis worked for me, and I was the one who told him to do whatever he needed to get me publicity. I didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but people warned me.” Mick gave a half-smile and pointed a finger at Scott. “In fact, you warned me, and I ignored it because Lewis made my life easier, my career more successful. I didn’t really care about the consequence as long as they were to my benefit. And those consequences ended up harmful to other people.”
Mick looked like a spring, coiled and tight, but ready to erupt at any minute. Piper’s palms grew damp as apprehension crept along her skin and settled in the tender spot at the back of her neck.
On the TV screen, Scott leaned forward, closer to Mick, and lowered his tone. “Ms. James ended your relationship because of this situation? She didn’t believe you? She couldn’t stand the heat?”
Piper’s face flushed, and she knew she had the telltale pink patches on her cheeks. An entire menu of emotions crashed through her system—embarrassment, anger, anxiety—but she remained riveted, straining to hear what Mick would say.
He sighed. “Piper was tired of being the subject of gossip, rumors, and lies, and I don’t blame her. I am not an easy man to love—”
Scott interjected. “Love?”
“Yes, love. I know it will come as a shock for most,” Mick said, “but I fell in love with her. I had no choice but to get all the facts necessary to prove the newspapers wrong about us. About her.”
Chris reached over and grabbed her hand. She squeezed for all she was worth.
“So, all of this—the investigation, the lawsuit—it’s all for her?” Scott asked.
Mick nodded. “When it comes down to it—yes. I was betrayed, but she was the one who paid the price.” He leaned forward and the camera zoomed in, making sure every nuance of his expression was clear as crystal.
Piper found herself leaning forward as well, drawn in by the drama unfolding before her.
“She was the one cheated on by Antonio Rojas,” Mick continued. “A man who’d pledged to marry her and said he loved her—but the press made it out that she was the stupid one for loving him. They made a painful situation even worse so they could sell a few more newspapers, and she fell apart. Understandably. But now this whole thing has cost her the career she loved and I was selfish. Ignored the way it impacted her.”
He paused, rubbing a hand over his face and through his dark curls. His movements were jerky with frustration and anger. She longed to steady them with her own.
“Piper took a chance on me, and I was too stupid to see what I had in front of me. She finally came to her senses and made the right decision—to get away from me.” He laughed bitterly, the emotion behind the sound not quite reaching his eyes. “Look, I’m the worst bet when it comes to relationships. I have no idea what I’m doing, but she was willing to take a chance I’d get it right. I made a promise I didn’t keep, and I let her down. She weighed the odds and decided to cut bait before I really screwed up. So, when everyone reports on this tomorrow, make sure you get that straight. I screwed this up. Not Piper.”
Scott sat back in his seat, a wry grin on his face. “Sounds like she could write you two a happy ending if she wanted.”
Mick slowly shook his head. “That only happens in books and movies.”
The segment closed out with publicity stills and Scott’s narration about Mick’s new Dark movie premiere, which was set for the day after tomorrow. Chris grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, the sudden silence punctuated by the faint sounds of New York City traffic.
“Oh shit.” Piper leaned her head in her hands as she sorted through her emotions.
“What’s going on in that noggin of yours?” Chris asked.
“I don’t know.” Piper fell back onto the cushions, staring up at the wood molding arranged in a pattern across the ceiling. “He didn’t have to do that for me.”
“No. He didn’t.” Chris leaned back next t
o her on the sofa, his position mirroring her own. “I know I was ready to clock him when he showed up here two weeks ago, but everything turned out the way he said. He filed the lawsuit this morning, and I got a look at the documents. It’s all there. Lewis, the photographer, Tanya—all of it down to the last detail.”
“So what do I do?”
“Well, I’d fly to California and jump the man. He looked hot in that interview.”
“Chris—”
He scooped up her hand, dwarfing it his own and giving it a squeeze. “I don’t know. You guys still have the same issues—distance, crazy schedules, and his hordes of fans—but I think you could get over that if…”
“If I wanted him enough to take the plunge and trust him.”
“No. I don’t think it has anything to do with wanting him. I think you need to trust yourself. Let the past stay in the past,” Chris said.
“That sounds so easy. But it isn’t. Mick could…”
“He could hurt you. You could hurt him. Six months from now you could decide it’s too hard, he could develop a fear of flying or discover what a slob you are.” Chris smiled, rolling his eyes when she pinched him for being a smartass. “But that’s just the chance you have to take, or you could miss out.”
Piper knew he was right. There were no guarantees, and she sure as hell couldn’t feel any worse than she had the past two weeks. Two weeks of missing out on Mick. Two weeks where he was busy making sure he could find out what truly happened. Two weeks that ended with him using an interview that would be watched by millions to set the record straight—for her.
Every time they’d hit a snag, he’d been the one to stay in the game and fight for them. She’d caved at the first sign of trouble—it was instinct now, and she reacted at the first whiff of pain. But he’d stuck it out, fighting to the end because he thought she was worth it.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know. That just means it’s something worth taking a chance on.” He nudged her with his elbow. “The best stuff always is.”
Playing the Part Page 16
