“Secrets tore apart the band,” Joplin finally answered. “Kane was a mess, worse than Jax realized, but I knew.”
“He trusted you to keep quiet.”
“And Morgan swore me to silence.” Eyes closed, Joplin’s head fell back. “Imagine how different things would have turned out if Jax knew the truth—about everything. Maybe he wouldn’t have been so quick to assume the worst.”
“Now, I understand why Jax didn’t trust me.” Skye felt a fresh surge of regret. “His accusations hurt, and I was too stubborn to explain.”
“If you could go back, would you make him listen?”
Skye shook her head. By then, her mistakes were too numerous to fix with a few words.
“Tell me.” Joplin’s questioning gaze met hers. “What would you change?”
“I’d have sex with Jax.”
“Good choice.”
“I know,” Skye laughed. “Chances are things would have ended the same. Whatever happened, I wish I could say, Jaxon Cross was my lover.”
“You could lie,” Joplin said, her tone matter of fact. “The tabloids would pay you a pretty penny.”
Or, Skye thought, a fortune for the true story of what happened to Razor’s Edge. Six years later, half-truths and outright lies continued to circulate. Jax’s success kept the public’s interest percolating. Add the continued silence of everyone involved, and the band had reached a kind of cult status.
“A reunion concert would draw a lot of attention.”
“Another reason no one will agree.” Joplin stretched her arms over her head.
“I told Danny, but he only hears what suits his narrative.
A knock sounded. Grabbing her wallet, Skye headed for the back door where a staircase led to the alley. She thanked the delivery woman with a sizable tip. On the way back, she grabbed plates, napkins, and a couple of bottles of water from the kitchen.
“I’m famished.” Joplin bit into a slice of pizza. She groaned with pleasure. “So good.”
“Told you.”
As they polished off their dinner, the conversation became less about the past, focusing on the here and now.
“I have my own public relations firm.” Glowing with pride, Joplin wiped her hands.
“No more following the band?” Skye inquired.
“Occasionally, I travel with a client for a day or two—if the price is right. Otherwise, I send an associate.”
“Your dream was to be the boss.”
“I answer to no one,” Joplin nodded.
Skye envied her friend. One day, she would pick and choose her acting roles. No auditions, no judgmental directors. They would come to her. All she needed was her first big break.
“Landis Productions bought the rights to The End of Rainbows.”
“I heard,” Joplin nodded, then laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. Los Angeles might seem big, but the grapevine connects the same people to the same rumors.”
“I have an audition. For the part of Laurel.”
Joplin let out a slow whistle.
“Every actress who can marginally pass for a woman in her twenties has set her sights on the lead. And you, an unknown, managed to get your foot in the door? Impressive.”
Almost a week since her agent called, Skye was relieved to finally share the news with someone she could trust. Her father was against her acting ambitions and would root for her to fail then throw an I told you so in her face at every opportunity.
“The End of Rainbows.” A happy humming sound came from deep in Joplin’s throat. She clicked her water bottle against Skye’s. “Here’s to your dreams coming true. With a producer like Wyatt Landis, the movie will be first class all the way.”
“The entire Landis family is involved.” A cherry on her luscious sundae, Skye couldn’t stop pinching herself. “Garrett will direct, Wyatt’s wife turned the book into an unbelievable screenplay.”
“What about Nate Landis?” Joplin waggled her eyebrows. “In a family of gorgeous men, he’s extra yummy.”
“The stuntman?” Skye shook her head. “He wouldn’t have much to do on Rainbows.”
“Next time, do an action flick. And invite your friend Joplin to the set.”
Next time. Just the idea made Skye shiver with excitement even as she reminded herself not to count her chickens.
“In keeping with my resolution not to withhold secrets from my friends?” Joplin set aside her plate. “There’s something you should know.”
“If you don’t tell me, will someone die?”
“No,” Joplin chuckled.
Crap, Skye groaned. Secrets were destructive, as she learned the hard way. However, the view from cloud nine was prime, and the last thing she wanted was for Joplin’s good intention to bring her down.
“Do I want to know?”
“You’re bound to find out, which gives you a choice. I tell you now or wait and get broadsided by a 2x4 to the head.”
“One second.” Grabbing the hand-crocheted blanket she kept on the sofa for late-night television binge fests, she covered her head. “Shoot.”
“Every great romantic movie needs a great love song. I heard from a very reliable source the composer is Jaxon Cross. He’ll likely write the entire soundtrack.”
“The creep,” Skye grumbled. Jax knew how much The End of Rainbows meant to her. “He should have said no.”
“He’ll record a few of the songs. Naturally.”
“Naturally.”
Skye tossed aside the blanket—so much for her protective cocoon. Joplin’s sympathetic smile helped, but not enough.
“I changed my mind.”
“About what?” Joplin asked.
“If I could go back, I wouldn’t have sex with Jax. I’d kill him.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
♫~♫~♫
“DON’T BE NERVOUS.”
Skye hid her smile. Any feelings of unease she might have suffered were negated by Fahma Chowdhury’s uneven breathing and sweaty palms. Trying so hard to appear calm and collected, her agent’s case of nerves needed an outlet—through her mouth and hands.
“I’m fine.”
And she was. After all, rich people were the same as everyone else, with better accessories.
“I forgot, you have experience at these sorts of soirees.” Fahma surreptitiously wiped her palms on a tissue. “See any familiar faces?”
Hosted by Wyatt Landis, the party was invitation only. Skye, in town for her audition, was surprised to find herself one of the lucky few. She brought Fahma as her plus one.
“I spent a year on the road with a rock band—semi-successful by the time we were done. I didn’t have time to hobnob with anyone famous, unless you count The Ryder Hart Band.”
“You don’t?” Fahma scoffed. “I drool every time I listen to his music. Why are you so blasé every time you say his name?”
“Ryder puts his pants on one leg at a time, like everyone else.”
“Oh, my.” Fahma fanned herself. “Thank you. The image of Ryder Hart in his underwear settled my nerves.”
Fahma hadn’t formed the hard shell acquired by most experienced agents, a major advantage in Skye’s book. Based in Seattle, she grew up in a large, loving home, the youngest of seven. Proud of her Indian heritage, as a woman of color, she already had two strikes against her in an industry dominated by white men.
Getting her client an audition for a major Hollywood production took hard work, perseverance and, as with everything, a bit of luck. Fahma’s unwavering loyalty and tenacity finally paid off, for them both.
Taking a blue enamel compact from her small evening bag, Fahma checked her reflection and grimaced.
“How did I manage to chew off my lipstick already? You should mingle, I need to slather on another coat.” Fahma brightened. “I read somewhere some of the biggest deals are made at parties—in the bathroom. There goes Meryl Streep! Think I can talk her into signing with a new agent?
”
“If anyone can, it’s you.”
With a wink, Fahma adjusted the straps of her dress, squared her shoulders, and began her pursuit of one of the greatest actresses in movie history.
If belief in yourself was all a person needed to succeed, Fahma was on her way to the top.
Skye wasn’t as confident. Buoyed by years of classes and experience in local theater, she believed in her talent. Realistic, she knew the odds weren’t in her favor. Yet, here she was, one day away from reading for her dream part.
Ultimately, whoever Wyatt and Garrett Landis chose was out of her hands. If she went home emptyhanded, back to the local playhouse, her life wouldn’t end. At least she could say she tried.
“Hello, stranger.”
“Zoe?” Laughing, Skye returned the other woman’s enthusiastic hug. “What are you doing here?”
“You know me.” With a wink, Zoe posed, holding her champagne glass high. “I live to party.”
Zoe Hart was many things. Ageless—six years on her was like six days on anyone else—wonderfully sardonic, and with people she loved and trusted, generous beyond measure. What she wasn’t, was a party animal. When not on stage, she preferred a quiet life tucked away in the mountains of Colorado with her husband and daughter.
“How’s Smith?”
“Wonderful.” An enviable glow of happiness engulfed Zoe. “On tour. Lucky me, right about now, he’s in the middle of his last concert. Then, he’s all mine.”
If anyone could rival Zoe Hart’s success, it was Smith Carson. One rock star in the family had to be hard enough, but two? The mind boggled. Yet, against all odds, their relationship worked.
“Love your dress.”
“I splurged.”
Deceptively simple, the black silk sheath didn’t cling so much as hug Skye’s figure in all the right places. She finished the look with a pair of sparkly earrings and strappy sandals.
“You chose well,” Zoe nodded. “Exactly what I would have picked for you.”
Skye breathed a sigh of relief. She was comfortable with her sense of style. However, tonight, she walked in rarified air. A nod of approval from Zoe, golden goddess in a beaded silver gown and undisputed fashion icon, was a welcome boost to her ego.
“I’m famished. Let’s eat.”
Linking arms, they strolled toward the buffet tables. A woman dressed in crisply pleated black trousers, white blouse, and bolero jacket handed Skye a gently warmed plate. Nodding her thanks, she followed Zoe to the carving station where men in chef’s hats served succulent slices of prime rib, Virginia ham, and marinated loin of pork.
Skye watched in wonder as Zoe took one of everything. The woman loved to eat and, in a town where thin was always in, didn’t care who noticed.
“You never answered my question. Why are you here tonight?”
“I was at loose ends, and I adore the Landis family. Plus, I’d be a fool to pass up a first-rate free meal.” Zoe smacked her lips as they moved to the next table.
“Really?” Excellent food aside, Skye had her doubts. “No other reason?”
“Perhaps a little birdy mentioned you’d be here.” Plate filled, Zoe smiled. “I wanted to lend some moral support on the eve of your big audition.”
Touched, Skye didn’t know what to say. Yes, she did.
“How did you know?”
“Same little birdy.” Zoe popped a cherry tomato into her mouth.
“Thank you. I’m grateful, honestly. But a phone call would have sufficed.”
Zoe’s dark eyes met Skye’s.
“After Razor’s Edge broke up, I should have done more to stay in touch.”
“You?” Skye scoffed. “I was the one who disappeared.”
“I knew how to find you. Time slipped away. My family and career are no excuse.”
“Joplin said the same thing—about time.”
“The two of you reconnected?” Zoe looked pleased. “She was the little bird who told me you’d be here.”
“I guessed.” Skye reminded herself to thank Joplin first chance she had.
“I’m so glad. Men are wonderful. The ones in my life? Vital. However, women need other women. Who else can commiserate over cramps or discuss in detail how impossible it is to find a perfectly fitting pair of jeans?”
“I’ve missed Joplin.” Skye chuckled when Zoe added a huge scoop of scalloped potatoes to her plate. “I’ve missed you.”
“From now on, I plan to be a big part of your life,” Zoe promised. “You might get sick of me.”
“Impossible.”
“Time for complete honesty.” Taking a deep breath, Zoe set her plate on one of the elegantly appointed dining tables sprinkled throughout the ballroom. “I am here to lend support, but not only for your audition.”
“Okay.” Skye shrugged, unconcerned. “Why else?”
Zoe looked right, then left, her gaze finally coming to a stop.
“Because of—”
“Jax,” Skye whispered.
Oddly detached, she watched as the only man she’d ever loved sent a warm smile to the willowy brunette at his side. She wondered why she hadn’t sensed his presence. Had the connection, her ability to know the moment he entered a room, faded with time? Lord, she hoped so.
“What are you thinking?”
“He’s wearing a suit and tie. Works for him.”
Jax used to be a jeans and t-shirt guy. On stage, he wore a button-down shirt—always dark, always casual. Tonight, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, stark-white shirt, and a tie almost as blue as his eyes, he proved rock star cool was all about the man, not his wardrobe.
“Hard for Jaxon Cross not to look good.” Zoe rubbed Skye’s arm. “Too bad he hasn’t lost his hair or developed a beer gut.”
“Both would work for me.” Skye dropped her gaze to Jax’s washboard flat stomach and sighed. “Bald as a cue ball and fifty pounds heavier, women would still flock to him.”
“Because he’s a rock star,” Zoe nodded.
“Because he’s Jax.”
The words just slipped out, past Skye’s lips. No calling them back, as her cheeks warmed, she willed the floor to open and suck her in.
“One phone call and my car will whisk us out of here.”
Well-intentioned and tempting, Zoe’s offer would be a temporary solution to a bigger problem. Skye refused to run. However, she wasn’t averse to a little liquid courage. She snatched a glass of wine from the tray of a passing waiter, took a drink and wished for something stronger.
“Think he knows I’m here?”
“Well.” Thoughtfully, Zoe tapped a finger against her chin. “I don’t gamble. But if someone challenged me to a bet, no matter the odds, I wouldn’t hesitate to lay a million bucks on yes.”
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.”
The man holding the microphone didn’t need an introduction. Tall, dark-haired, with clear, intelligent blue eyes, Wyatt Landis learned the art of producing movies at his father’s knee. His ability to command the attention of a crowd with only a few words came naturally.
“My family and I want to thank you for joining us to celebrate a banner year for Landis Productions.” Applause greeted the opening of his speech. “I guarantee, we won’t rest on our laurels. For example, our next movie, The End of Rainbows, is a project I’ve wanted to tackle for a long time.”
You aren’t alone, Skye thought, clutching her glass as she said a silent prayer that she would be a part of the project.
“Casting has been a challenge. Not all actors, no matter how talented, are suited for every part. We will keep looking until we find our perfect leads.”
“You have my vote,” Zoe whispered.
“Thank you,” Skye gave her friend a shaky smile.
“To make a movie great, every element is important, big and small,” Wyatt continued. “Music sets the tone, the mood, the atmosphere. We are blessed to have a true artist in cha
rge of writing and performing the soundtrack for The End of Rainbows. Jax, would you join me?”
An excited buzz followed as one of the most recognizable singers in the world made his way toward Wyatt Landis. With each step, the murmuring grew louder.
“I had no idea Jax was involved.” Zoe’s gaze narrowed. “You don’t seem surprised.”
A rumor repeated by Joplin was one thing. As was the anger Skye felt when she thought Jax might be part of the project. Now, with the rumor confirmed, Skye didn’t know how she felt. However, he knew how she felt about the book; he knew her dream was to play Laurel. Why attach himself to the project unless…
“Jax still hates me.” Her stomach roiling, Skye set aside her drink and the plate of food. The last thing she needed on the eve of her audition was to vomit on the Wyatt Landis’ marble ballroom floor. “He wants revenge.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Zoe placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Jax took the job because the chance to work with Landis Productions doesn’t come along every day. His feelings for you are beside the point.”
Logically, Skye believed Zoe was right. Jax was a professional. Besides, even if he wanted to pull the chair out from under her ambitions, a guy hired to write a song or two wouldn’t have enough pull or influence. Would he?
Skye wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear as Jax took the microphone from Wyatt, his white teeth flashing through his dark beard. The men looked awfully chummy.
“When Wyatt and his brother Garrett called me in for a meeting, I had my reservations. I’m just a humble musician.” Good-natured laughter met Jax’s obvious joke.
“Humble my Aunt Fanny,” Skye grumbled. “The size of the man’s ego rivals Texas.”
At her side, Zoe snickered.
“Scoring a movie is worlds apart from standing on stage and singing. However,” Jax continued. “If you’ve had the honor to work with the Landis family, you know they aren’t fans of the word no.”
Smiling, Wyatt shrugged, taking the enthusiastic hoots and hollers in stride.
“After some thought, more thought, a good amount of Landis-style arm twisting, I realized going outside my comfort zone could be good for me—as a person and an artist.”
ALMOST PARADISE Page 14
