by Kali Willows
She shook her head and tucked her chin down to her chest.
“My…my…dad,” Kyle stammered. “He left us.”
“Sorry,” Connor mouthed to her.
“It’s okay, Mr. Caine. He wanted your autograph so badly.” She held out a gold marker pen. “Would you mind?”
“Not at all.” He accepted the pen, and Kyle handed his football over. “To my little buddy, Kyle,” he recited as he wrote. “Practice hard and, one day, I’ll see you in the big leagues. Your pal, Connor Caine.” He held the ball out. Before Kyle could accept, he pulled back and glanced around the room. “If it’s okay with your Mom, Kyle, would you like me to teach you something right here?”
“Would I?” he screeched.
His mom gave an emphatic nod. “Thank you.”
“Gimme one second.” Connor jogged over to a guard at the door and conversed for a moment. The guard bobbed his head up and down then Connor returned. “See the nice guy over there? Because this room is almost empty, I can show you something in here, and he’s gonna help us out.”
“Really?” Kyle jumped up and down again. “Can you teach me how to throw like you do? My friend’s dad said you could hit a bulls-eye with the nose of a football if you tried.”
“He did, huh?” He chuckled. “If you promise to listen to your mom, do good in school, and practice hard, I sure will.”
“Yes, sir.”
Gemma signed another autograph and caught the side view of Connor teaching the boy how to hold the ball.
“Put your fingers here, along the stitches. When you throw it, it’ll spiral, like this….” He stood up. “Ready?”
“Ready,” the guard called from the farthest corner of the colossal room.
Connor aimed the football and chucked it through the air. It landed right in the guard’s hands; he didn’t even have to move to catch it. The guard tossed it back, with half as much precision and shrugged.
“I got it, it’s cool.” Connor ran over, grabbed the ball, and returned to the boy. “Your turn, Kyle.” He motioned for the guard to move closer and helped line up the throw.
Kyle sent it spinning perfectly through the air. The guard ran forward and caught it, the last of the people in the ballroom erupted in a cheer. Apparently, Gemma wasn’t the only one awe-struck by this precious exchange.
“Right on, little buddy.” Connor gave him a high five. “Hey, man, I’d better be careful. You’re gonna put me out of a job if you keep giving those kind of throws.” The guard tossed the ball back. Connor inspected the pigskin before he handed it to his fan. “Sweet, the marker didn’t smear.”
“Thank you Connor. This is the best day of my life.” Kyle threw his arms around Connor’s waist and hugged him tight.
“Please make it out to Missy,” the current woman in front of her interjected and snared Gemma’s attention back to her own task.
“Yes, thank you for coming, Missy.” She handed the book to her.
Connor returned to the table, and the man in the cowboy hat waved him ahead. “Thanks, buddy.”
The man nodded, Gemma didn’t see his face.
“You’re…incredible,” she said. “You totally made that little boy’s hopes and dreams materialize.”
Connor shrugged. “I didn’t realize your conference was in the same hotel as my league events.”
She stared up, engulfed in the depths of his chocolate-brown eyes.
“Gemma?”
“Uh, yes. Connor.” She scribbled his name in the book. “Connor Caine…live…in person… here…in Ottawa,” she mumbled thoughtlessly and glanced up at him.
“Is it okay I stopped by?” He knitted his brows.
“Of course it is….” She glanced at her watch. In two hours she had to meet her date downstairs, and all she wanted was to jump Connor Caine’s bones in the middle of the ballroom.
“Is there any chance you’re free for dinner?” he asked.
“What?” She shook her head to dispel the obsessive need to taste his lips.
“Dinner. Any chance you’re almost done here?”
“Uh, um, dinner?” Yes! She wanted to blurt out.
“I beg your pardon, Ms. Daveen, but you have a meeting at eight thirty. Sorry, lover boy.” Candace slipped in behind the table and gripped Gemma’s shoulders. “Remember the thing I scheduled you for?”
“I’m so sorry, Connor. I wish…. Sadly, I’m not available.” Damn Candace and her pushy ways.
“Oh, it’s okay. No worries, Gemma. Actually, I have a thing I’ve got to attend tonight, too. I should head out.”
“No, it’s fine, Connor.” But it wasn’t fine at all.
“Maybe we can try some other time.” He flashed her a smile. “You look sensational. I’m glad I got a chance to see you in person.” He accepted the signed book Candace handed him and headed for the door. “Take care.”
“Why did you have to be so rude to him?”
“You have other fans in line, Ms. Daveen. Finish up here and we will talk about why you aren’t available to have dinner with the gorgeous man.”
On autopilot, Gemma opened the next book and began to inscribe. “And who shall I make this out to?”
“You’re number one fan, darlin’.”
Gemma glanced up. Behind the large-brimmed cowboy hat and clad in his plaid button down shirt and jeans stood her living nightmare. “Jimmy?”
“Can’t your loving husband get an autograph from his famous wife?”
Her stomach turned at the sight of his spiteful smirk.
Candace ducked out from behind the table and stood face to face with Gemma’s ex. “You got a lot of nerve you slime ball.”
“Back off bitch,” he growled in a hushed voice. “Or you’re gonna regret getting in the middle of true love.”
Candace waved to the security guard. “This gentleman seems to have stumbled into the wrong room.”
“You wouldn’t want to make a scene with your precious money bags, would you, Candace?” He shoved her to the side and grabbed at Gemma’s hand, but she yanked back from his grasp. “I’m leaving, but Gemma’s coming with me.”
“You are in direct violation of a restraining order,” Candace hissed.
The security guard arrived at her side with hands on hips. “Is there a problem here?”
“No problem, sir.” Gemma stood up. “My husband is leaving. But I would really appreciate it if you would help him find his way to the lobby, as he seems to have gotten lost. He has a plane to catch. Right now.” She glowered at Jimmy.
“Yes, miss.” The guard gripped his shoulder-mounted radio and spoke into the unit. “Charlie, I’m on three in the Saint Claire Ballroom. I need backup for an escort out of the building.”
“No need, sir.” Jimmy threw his hands up in surrender. He stormed toward the exit and knocked over the four-foot cardboard poster of Gemma on his way out.
“Follow him out and make sure no one lets him back into the building. There is a copy of the restraining order with the head of security; Patrick, and the RCMP.”
“Understood.” The guard rushed out the door after him.
“If you will excuse me, Candace, I need to use the ladies’ room.” She’d had more than enough tension. “I beg your pardon. I’ll be right back,” she told the last of her fans, huddled together a few steps away. “I won’t be long at all.”
“Not alone.” Candace followed her into the adjoining area. “You okay?” Candace asked, handing her some paper towels.
“Yeah, we were bound to run into him some time.” Gemma blotted her cheeks dry and dabbed at a bit of mascara under her eyes.
“I could have him thrown in jail for being here. Following you across an international border is stalking.” Candace paced back and forth. “We’ll need to have a security guard outside your door this evening.”
“You’re right.” She grasped at the possibility of escape. “Perhaps, instead of the date, I should call it a night?”
“You’re not hooking up w
ith your handsome friend.”
“Not what I meant, Candace.”
“No,” Candace said. “I think you need to let off a little steam.”
They returned to find the trio of loyal fans whispering. As she moved around the table, they huddled close, smiling and giggling. On her chair rested a long box tied with a red ribbon.
“Did you do this, Candace?” Gemma eyed the card attached as she propped the box against the table.
“No, finish with your fans and we will look at it together.” She surveyed the room. “In case your ex left it.”
“They guard escorted him out. How could he have?”
“Ms. Daveen, I love all of your books.” An overly friendly, slender woman in a purple dress gave her an ear-to-ear smile.
“It’s great to meet you. What’s your name?”
“Jenny. My name is Jenny. I can’t believe I’m here with you!” The lady beamed. “I didn’t know we were allowed to bring you presents, or I would have been happy to.”
“Oh, presents aren’t necessary, Jenny.” Maybe she could solve the mystery of the box. “Did you happen to see who left this here?”
“Oh my, yes. A big, brooding, handsome man.”
“Really?” Gemma pulled her shoulders back. “He returned for me?”
“Returned? This man stood in front of me the whole time. When you went to the restroom, he placed it on your chair and left.”
Gemma furrowed her brows. “The tall man with dark hair and the brown leather jacket?”
“Oh no, Ms. Daveen. He had on a black jacket, and a baseball cap.”
“Oh?” She tried to shake off the confusion. “My apologies, Jenny. Let’s get your book signed, shall we?”
“Thank you so much….” Jenny talked her ear off until Candace swooped in and ushered her out of the room. Gemma finished the final two autographs and waved to the last people as they left the room. Now she needed to see what had been left for her.
“I’m not so sure you should open it, doll.” Candace pushed Gemma’s hand away from the box.
“You heard the woman. The guy wore a black jacket and a ball cap. Jimmy was wearing plaid. It couldn’t have been Connor. Maybe it’s from another fan?”
“Fans who wait in line four hours don’t disappear when they’re next. You’ve been freaked out by emails and calls. You moved to the mountains for safety sake. Please don’t tell me this box doesn’t cause you concern?”
“You’re right. I’m exhausted, I can’t think straight.” Gemma placed the box on the table. “Should we read the card?”
The publicist sucked in her bottom lip. Candace possessed the morbid curiosity of a cat, there was no way she wouldn’t check out the package. She scanned the room and called over the security guard who had returned to his post. He brought two more men in uniforms with him.
“Should we open it?” Candace queried, but Gemma tugged the ribbon off and lifted the lid before anyone replied.
Inside laid a dozen long-stemmed black roses.
“I don’t get it.”
“There’s a nut job stalking you. What’s to get?” Candace said.
“Why black roses? What do they mean?”
“Huh,” Candace choked out. “Death, revenge, evil. Take your pick. Whatever it is, it’s not romance. Wasn’t there a card?”
Gemma searched the top of the box and found a small envelope taped to it with her name on it. She torn it open and pulled out the card.
I warned you, Gemma. You’re mine. No one will stop me. I’m coming for you. She clasped her hand over her mouth. “Do you think it was Jimmy?”
“Him, or maybe a star-stalker. You’ve been getting weird stuff for months, but the police haven’t been able to track down who’s been doing it. If it were Jimmy, why would he stand in line and have someone else deliver it separately?”
“Maybe so I wouldn’t know he sent it?”
“He’s a whack job. Nothing would surprise me at this point.” Candace patted her on the shoulder. “I asked Patrick, the security supervisor, to try to help us figure this out.”
“Okay.” Patrick strolled up to them. “I had Jeremy in operations scan through today’s security tapes. The guy who left this box signed in at the front desk as a delivery guy for a local florist.”
“So, the likelihood he is the actual person to send them is…?” Candace asked.
“Slim. The guy didn’t hide his face from the camera. We have a call in to the florist, but they’re closed now. We won’t know till morning who sent them. We’ve notified the local police. I believe the threat is not immediate. Security in the hotel is already tripled with the events running this weekend, but I would recommend you either hire a bodyguard or see if the police have off-duty officers for hire. The hotel cannot take responsibility for the safety of a guest with a personal issue.”
“I most certainly will. Thank you, gentlemen. Would you kindly escort us to her room? And I will make some calls.”
Chapter Four
Gemma studied the opulence of the grand penthouse bathroom while she endured the unsolicited makeover from Candace to create the perfect appearance for her date. The far wall housed a wide shower with glass doors and copper-brown tiles, equipped with multi-directional showerheads and a small corner bench for a therapeutic retreat. The center of the room featured an in-ground oasis, complete with a square walk-in tub the size of a small pool and framed with a massive waterfall-feature shower overhead.
“I could live in this room.”
“I’ll be at the other end of the bar to check out Mr. Right for tonight before you take off to frolic.”
The contents of both her makeup and hair bags lay across the length of the copper-swirled marble counter. Candace primped Gemma’s long red curls.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I arranged two personal guards for the night, and two more to replace them in the morning. They will escort us to the airport. I’ve got you protected from the psychopath.” She pinned the hot-pink hibiscus flower above her left ear.
“How do you expect me to enjoy myself?” Gemma flinched as her confidante brushed some rogue strands from her eyes.
“It’s fine. You need to have some fun, too.” Candace dabbed additional face powder and rouge over Gemma’s subtle application. “Masterpiece.”
“With eyes everywhere, how the hell do you plan to keep my split and my one-night stand private?”
“It was only a matter of time before we had to let the cat out of the bag anyway.” Candace rinsed her hands in the sink and grabbed a white cotton towel to dry them.
“Then, why the hell did you chase Connor off today?”
“Because, my dearest author, to have already begun a fling online before anything is spilled to the media will still be a scandal.” Candace paced the length of the spacious bathroom. “Since Jimmy violated the restraining order, your attorney will be able to have his alimony stopped.” She pointed to Gemma’s wedding band then held out her palm. “Let me see that hunk of useless metal.”
“What?”
“The farce is over. You don’t owe him a dime, and we will go public with the split”—she glanced at her wristwatch—“about two hours ago.”
“What?” Gemma looked for an exit. Candace was out of her mind.
“I sent out an update to the press hounds I knew would get the word out fastest. Because of your ex’s little performance in public and his personal escort out of the hotel, it’s inevitable anyway, so I beat the bastard to the punch line.”
Gemma plopped onto the tile floor. “Finally,” she sobbed and pulled off the wedding band. She handed it over. “This has been the longest year of my life.”
“You’ve been a real trouper.” Candace sat cross-legged beside her. “I know I’m a hard ass, but your fans count on you to inspire them. I couldn’t have your divorce destroy you and all the hard work you’ve done. As much of a jerk as Jimmy is, today, he did us both a favor. You’re a free agent, doll.”
“Fr
ee?” The word held little value. She’d crushed Connor at the book fair, and, in ten minutes, she would meet a total stranger downstairs. “Doesn’t feel like it.” She rubbed her fingers against the throbbing headache in her temples.
“Listen. Do your pain-in-the-ass publicist one last favor for this tour?” She put her arm over Gemma’s shoulder.
She snorted. “Such as?”
“Come downstairs, see what he’s like. If it isn’t a feel-good connection for you, end it right there and call your muscle man. I’m asking you to try this last thing. For me, okay?”
It would be rude not to show up at all. At least this way, she had the chance to explain to her date the extenuating circumstances had nothing to do with him.
She heaved a sigh. “Fine.”
***
Side by side, Gemma and Candace entered the hotel lounge and split up. They went to opposite ends of the bar, so she could meet her date without a third wheel. The venue was dimly lit with rows of polished-nickel pendulum fixtures dangling from the ceiling, emanating a cozy atmosphere. A melodic jazz tune and the occasional clink of glass resonated in the background, amid the muffled prattle of patrons. Small groups lingered at tables and occupied the black-leather stools along the bar. Gemma grabbed the empty seat at the end as the bartender approached. She had her room card, cash in her pockets, and a speech prepared for the rejection of her arranged date—one she hoped wouldn’t disappoint him too much.
“What can I get for you?” The older gentleman wiped down the mahogany granite countertop in front of her with a bar towel.
“A screwdriver please, uh, could you make it a double?”
“Of course.” He filled a glass with ice, poured in orange juice and two measures of vodka and placed the tumbler on a napkin in front of her.
Gemma reached into her pocket to pull out some cash, but a voice stayed her hand. “I’ve got it covered.”
Frozen in her chair and stunned, she glanced to her side to see the face that went with the incredible voice.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
Her heart pounded. “Connor.”
The barkeep accepted the cash and moved to a group waving empty beer glasses in his direction.
