Heartbreaker (Hollywood Hearts Book 2)

by Belinda Williams

  Marc’s eyes.

  I stepped back from the window in shock and Jay turned to stare at me, a question in his gaze.

  I shook my head.

  A second later, there was a knock on the door. We remained in the living room and heard footsteps approach the front door.

  “Marc! Don’t you ever switch your cell on?”

  There was the shuffle of movement.

  “Mom. You can’t be here.”

  “Well, I am, and so is your daughter it turns out.”

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  The child’s bright greeting was like a physical blow and I grasped for the edge of the sofa, unsteadily taking a seat.

  Marc was a father. Did that mean he had a wife somewhere, too?

  “Sweetheart.”

  Again, I was glad I was sitting down. He spoke it roughly, but that one word held more love than I thought him capable of.

  “Daddy!”

  In the silence that followed I imagined the girl had thrown herself into Marc’s safe arms.

  “Sweetheart,” he said again. “This is a surprise. I thought we weren’t seeing each other for two more weeks.”

  “Mom’s new guy has taken her to Paris.” The amount of contempt in her voice surprised me.

  “Paris?”

  “Yeah. It was a surprise or something. And I wasn’t invited, which is good because he’s a total douche.”

  “Ruby!”

  I put a hand to my mouth at Marc’s exclamation. So maybe it was possible to crack his tough outer shell.

  “Ruby,” he said again, more composed, “you shouldn’t talk like that.”

  “Well, it’s true. Wait until you meet him. Nan agrees with me.”

  “Does she?”

  “Yes,” I heard Nan say, “she does. And I think children are good judges of character. They turned up on my doorstep because you weren’t home and insisted I take Ruby. Not that I mind, of course, but they gave us absolutely no warning. Ruby wanted to come and see you.”

  There was a beat of silence. “And I want to see her, but I’m on an assignment.”

  “You mean you’re ruminating in this big, lonely house again. I’m almost sorry I bought it for you.”

  “No, Mom, I mean I’m on an assignment right now and it’s not appropriate for you to be—”

  “You’re minding Lena Lyons, aren’t you?” Ruby interrupted in a big whisper.

  “Well, I can’t really—”

  “I saw her,” Ruby accused. “In the window.”

  There was another beat of silence.

  “Can I meet her, Dad? Please?”

  I had to smile at the girl’s tone. She was charming and convincing.

  “Rubes, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but Lena’s here because some bad stuff is going on and—”

  “You mean she’s being stalked again?” his mother demanded to know.

  I bristled at the older woman’s incredulous tone. Like she knew all about me and my previous stalkers. Like Marc had told her.

  “Mom,” I heard Marc growl.

  “The poor woman. How awful. Where is she?”

  I heard high heels on the marble tiles and moments later Marc’s mother stood in the doorway to the living area. Up close, I liked her immediately. She wore fitted jeans and a floaty bright top that was yellow, blue and green. Over that, was a stylish black leather jacket. It was an outfit someone twenty years younger could have worn, but with her trim figure she pulled it off effortlessly. But perhaps the thing I liked most was her face. Despite the youthful clothes, her face showed her age. She had fine wrinkles and laughter lines. This was a woman who felt deeply and clearly laughed a lot.

  “Hello, Lena. I’m Heather, Marc’s mother.”

  I stood and walked over to meet her. I nodded at my sling. “Forgive me for not shaking your hand.”

  Unlike Marc’s, Heather’s eyes were a light blue and they widened at the sight of my sling. “Oh, no. You’re hurt? I’m so sorry.”

  I offered her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be OK.”

  She leaned in. “I’m sorry to say the fire was all over the news.”

  “I know.”

  “And your beautiful house. I’m terribly sorry for you.”

  “At least no one was hurt.” When she glanced at my sling, I smiled sheepishly. “Badly.”

  I noticed movement behind us and looked over to see Marc and his daughter, Ruby. For some unexplained reason, I found it hard to breathe.

  Ruby was tucked into Marc’s side, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I had no idea how often they saw each other but here was a bond so deep, so certain, I knew nothing could break it. Just like the bond I’d had with my mother.

  “Hi, Lena,” she said shyly.

  I gave her a genuine smile and took a step closer. “Hi, Ruby. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Is Daddy doing a good job of looking after you?”

  My heart instantly swelled at her question. She was so sweet, so genuine it almost hurt. After the loss of my mother, I’d never really allowed myself to contemplate the idea of having children. It was painful enough losing a parent. What must it be like to love a child so much and risk losing them?

  Despite my dark thoughts, a deep fascination won out. Unable to help myself, I crouched down in front of her.

  She was even more beautiful up close. Her pale skin had a dusting of freckles across her nose. I wanted to tell her to be proud of them. To say to her that the happiness they signified was worth cherishing for all of her days rather than some stupid ideal of beauty. Instead, I nodded.

  “Yes, he’s very good at his job.” I never would have said so to Marc directly, but it was the truth.

  Ruby nodded gravely. “I know. He’s good at protecting people from the bad guys.”

  Her gaze was so sincere and knowing that I stared, transfixed.

  “Rubes.” Marc squeezed her gently. “Leave the bad guys to me, huh?”

  Ruby rolled her eyes and shrugged Marc off, obviously feeling less shy now. “He always says that. Does he say that to you?”

  I laughed softly and glanced up at Marc. His eyes weren’t on me, and he was watching his daughter with a look of such fondness the longing in my chest intensified. “Yes, he does, actually.”

  “Figures.” Then her eyes widened as Jay walked over to us.

  He must have been quite a sight for a young girl. Jay was always beautifully dressed in a tailored black suit but this was probably lost on Ruby given his imposing stature.

  “Hey, Ruby. I’m Jay. Lena’s bodyguard.”

  Wariness turned to delight. “Serious? A real-life bodyguard. Cool.”

  Jay chuckled. “I guess.”

  “Not I guess, totally! Can I interview you, please? I’m writing a story, you see, and it’s got bad guys and good guys and everything, and I’ve never met a real-life good guy—except for my dad, but he doesn’t count—so I really need to talk to someone like you to make sure my story is authentic and—”

  “Rubes,” Marc said again. “Slow down.”

  Ruby shoved her dad in the side. “No way. Not a chance. This is too good an opportunity to pass up, Dad. You never tell me anything. Jay looks really nice, I’m sure he’ll tell me something that will help with my story. Will you, Jay, pretty please?”

  Jay chuckled again. “I’m happy to if Marc is OK with it. But no gory details, huh?”

  Ruby pouted and we all laughed.

  “Gory is better! Dad always leaves out the gory stuff, even though I beg him to tell me, but Mom says that’s the whole Marines brotherhood thing, they never talk about stuff—”

  “Ruby.” Marc’s voice was curt this time and Ruby snapped her mouth shut. At his daughter’s contrite expression, he nodded at Jay. “Why doesn’t Jay take you to the kitchen for a glass of water and he can tell you a bit about working for Lena?”

  “Really?”

  “Sure.”

  Ruby grinned and reached over and grabbed Jay’s big hand. She attempted
to tug him out the door, much to his amusement. I straightened once they were gone, my head spinning with thoughts.

  Brotherhood? Marines? Suddenly I remembered the tattoo I’d glimpsed the other night and realized what it was. It was Latin: Semper Fid—something. Of course. Semper Fidelis. Always faithful.

  “You were in the US Marines? I thought you were in the FBI?”

  “No. I never said that.” His dark eyes were guarded.

  No, he hadn’t, now that I recalled. “Why is it such a big secret?” I didn’t understand why he’d go to such lengths to hide it.

  Heather reached out and touched my arm. “Don’t worry. Ruby’s right. It’s their way. He never talks about it, even to us.”

  I nodded and forced myself to smile. If that was the case, it was none of my business, too. “Of course. I’ll let you catch up with Marc. Excuse me.”

  I slipped into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. As tempting as it was to try to eavesdrop, I retreated to the safety of my bed.

  It explained so much. His detachment. The way he took down that reporter as if it was a reflex. And his low opinion of Hollywood.

  What sort of things had he seen? Where had he served? Jay had served in Afghanistan, but only for a short time. He’d told me once was enough.

  Had Marc killed people?

  My mouth went dry at the thought.

  So much of it made sense now. But not quite everything. One thing still didn’t make any sense at all. He claimed it was the money but now it didn’t quite ring true.

  What on earth was Marc Romero doing in Hollywood?

  Chapter 22

  An hour later there was a knock on my bedroom door.

  I opened it to find Marc outside. “We’re having dinner in half an hour.”

  “They’re staying?”

  “Just for dinner. Mom will take Ruby back to her place after.”

  “That’s OK. I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Lena.”

  The way he said it made me grip the door tighter. “Yes?”

  “Unless you want to break an eleven-year-old girl’s heart, please join us for dinner.”

  I laughed and a wicked part of me wondered what it would take to make him beg. “When you put it that way, I’ll be there in a sec.”

  When I joined them in the kitchen a few minutes later, Ruby was sitting beside Jay at the island bench. She had a page full of notes in front of her.

  “Hi, Lena! You’re next.”

  I hesitated in the doorway. “I’m next?”

  “Yeah,” said Jay. “I think she’s going to be a journalist, not a writer.”

  “I can do both,” Ruby said.

  “I agree,” I said, and sat down on her other side to wait my turn.

  Marc and his mother were preparing something together. Whatever it was smelled exotic. I inhaled greedily. “Mmm,” I said to no one in particular. “I really should learn to cook.”

  Ruby swiveled to face me. “Do you have a cook?” Her pencil was poised over a fresh sheet of paper.

  “On the record?” I asked, and heard Heather laugh.

  “On the record,” Ruby replied.

  “Yes, I have a cook, a housekeeper, a gardener, and you’ve met Jay.”

  “And the others?”

  “The others?” I asked, wondering what she knew that I didn’t.

  “All the other bodyguards. You’ve upped your security detail since the incidents.”

  My mouth dropped open. Holy cow. Jay was right. Give her a few years and she’d have an internship with a major publication.

  “Told you,” said Jay, sipping a beer.

  “I might have a wine,” I said.

  “Not with your painkillers you won’t.”

  I glared at Marc’s back.

  “Try having him as your dad. Have a lemonade instead,” Ruby suggested. “So Dad says I can’t talk about the bad stuff, but that’s OK because there’s plenty of good stuff to talk about. Like what’s been your favorite movie role so far?”

  Relieved we were on safer ground, I answered her questions. For the next half-hour, Ruby grilled me about my acting career and I found myself enjoying the girl’s company more than I wanted to. It reminded me of the close relationship I’d had with my own mother, but I did my best to push the ache those memories created aside and focus on Ruby.

  By the end, I was convinced she would make an excellent reporter if that was still what she wanted to do in another five or so years time.

  “Can I ask one more question?” Ruby asked when Marc and Heather were serving dinner.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you miss your mom?”

  I blinked. The question had come out of nowhere. Everything we’d talked about so far was related to Hollywood.

  “Ruby,” Marc warned. “It’s time for dinner.”

  Ruby shot me an apologetic look. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that I heard your speech at the Oscars and you mentioned your mom. I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

  I cleared my throat. “I don’t.” It had been hard for me to talk about my mom in front of the whole world like that. I’d never opened myself up so publicly before, but I didn’t regret it. I’d dedicated the award to her because without her, I wouldn’t be where I was now. “And yes. I still miss her. Every day.”

  Ruby nodded seriously. “That’s what I thought. Just because someone dies doesn’t mean you love them any less.”

  “Sometimes you love them more.”

  Ruby put her pen down on the pad, her face still serious. “That makes sense. When we thought Dad wasn’t coming home, my heart hurt so bad.”

  The kitchen fell silent. Heather stood beside Marc, distress written in the lines of her face. Marc’s lips were set in a thin line and for the first time I registered something I hadn’t seen in his dark eyes before: pain.

  “But I did come home, Ruby,” he said, his voice rough.

  “I know, but some of your friends didn’t. You were lucky.” Ruby turned back to me. “Five guys died. Some had families just like Dad, too.”

  I honestly didn’t know what to say. Sorry didn’t seem enough, and I was also painfully aware this was the sort of personal information Marc would like kept private.

  Ruby seemed oblivious to the awkwardness in the room. “So, anyway, after that, Dad stayed home. He says there’s enough bad guys here to deal with. Plus he gets to meet cool people like you.”

  “I’m not that different to you.” I smiled at her, grateful for the opportunity to change the subject.

  “Um, duh. Yes, you are! You’re a famous movie star.”

  I saw Heather smile and Marc turned back to the food. I was relieved the tension in the room had dissipated.

  I leaned in closer to Ruby. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Movie stars are ordinary people, too.”

  “I know that, silly. But lots of my friends don’t. Wait till I tell them I met you. They’ll be so jealous!”

  That earned a few more smiles, and then it was time for the food to be served. For the next half-hour we enjoyed the meal Marc and his mom had prepared. Any conversation avoided personal topics. I chatted with Heather about the house—she had decorated it herself—and learned more about her career in set design.

  When it was time to go, Jay and I said our goodbyes to Heather and Ruby. I was just about to leave the room and give Marc some privacy to say his own goodbyes, when Ruby caught my hand in hers.

  “Lena?” Her big brown eyes had turned shy again.

  “Yes?”

  “Can I, maybe, um, keep in touch?”

  When I opened my mouth to reply, she rushed on.

  “I’d really like an opinion on my stories. I figure you read a lot of scripts and stuff, and maybe you’d be able to help me?”

  “Ruby—”

  I ignored Marc. “Of course. I’d love to.

  Ruby clapped her hands together, looking more like the young child she was. “You mean it?”

  “Yes, of c
ourse. One day I’m thinking of making my own movies.”

  “You are?”

  For some strange reason, I almost felt shy at the girl’s awed tone. I wasn’t sure why I’d said it. It was an idea I’d thought about on and off for the last couple of years, but more so since Duncan and I had split up. “Maybe. If I find the right stories.”

  “What sort of stories?”

  “Well, they could be anything,” I told her. “So long as they have roles for strong women characters.”

  Ruby nodded fiercely, her auburn waves jumping up and down. “Oh, I totally get that. Hollywood needs more girl power.”

  I laughed. “Yes, I often think so.”

  “That’s why you’re so awesome.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You’re different to a lot of the other actresses. Some people try to make out like you’re not because of your modeling career and all that, but that’s just the patriarchal machine that is Hollywood. Anyone with half a brain can see you’re fighting against it.”

  “Do you think so?” I managed. I had no idea how a girl of her age had learned to use ‘patriarchal’ in context, nor was I about to suggest that her father might have less than half a brain.

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “And I can’t believe there are people out there who try to dismiss you based on your appearance. So you’re a sexy woman? What’s wrong with being sexy and a seriously talented actress?”

  “Nothing, I hope,” I said, impressed by Marc’s feisty daughter.

  “That’s why I want to be a writer. To give more females a voice.”

  “I think that’s a very noble goal.”

  “Daddy doesn’t think so.”

  “Ruby—”

  “It’s true, Dad. Don’t deny it. He thinks stories are stupid.”

  “Ruby, I don’t think—”

  “But I don’t care. He’s not creative like the rest of us, but he followed his heart and served our country. I’m going to follow my heart, too.”

  “Well, there you go,” said Heather, with a broad smile. She gave me an amused look. “On that note, I think we should probably head home.”

  I nodded and stepped back, giving the girl a small wave. “Bye Ruby. It’s been really nice to meet you.” I slipped into the living room so Marc could say goodbye.