Swinging On A Star (The Hollywood Showmance Chronicles Book 2)

by Olivia Jaymes

  But he didn’t. He placed his arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Darling, I thought you were on the phone.”

  “All done.” She looked from Alana to Max and then back again. His ex was a few years older than herself but she had a brittle, hard look to her that aged her even more in Carrie’s opinion. Innocent ingénue roles were out of the question. She wasn’t going to play someone’s best friend either. Alana was perfectly suited to the bad bitch roles, right down to her icy blue eyes and her sharp but elegant features. She was certainly a beautiful woman but she didn’t radiate any warmth or caring.

  Put another way…if Alana was walking down a busy London street no tourist was going to stop her and ask for directions.

  But I might be biased.

  Alana scowled at Carrie. “Who is this?”

  Nah, I’m right.

  Max pulled her closer to his large frame and Carrie could feel the heat from his body alongside hers. Not unpleasant. “Not that it’s any of your business but this is Carrie, my new girlfriend. Now I think you should leave. If you have any message for me, send it through my attorney.”

  His ex’s eyes turned to slits and her lips pursed, her total attention back to Max. She’d effectively dismissed Carrie as too insignificant to worry about. Lovely. “I want to talk to you. We need to discuss the money situation. I can’t live like this.”

  “Like this,” Max repeated slowly. “I’m not sure what you mean. You took everything that wasn’t nailed down in our home so I would imagine you are living quite well. As for the money, the prenup was very clear. You get a lump sum at settlement.”

  “You owe me,” she hissed, two red flags appearing on her cheeks. “Don’t think I won’t play dirty.”

  “I have no doubt that you will try. Now please leave. How did you find me in the first place?”

  She smiled, checking her manicure. “I have my sources. Now write me a check,” she demanded. “Or I’ll go to the press and tell them that you were cheating on me with this little vanilla miss when we were married.”

  “You’ll do nothing,” Max replied, his tone hard and cold. “And do you know why? You’ve already damaged what little career you have left. If you get into a tabloid war with me, you won’t be able to get a job taking tickets at the local theatre. You’re difficult to work with, Alana, and you’ve pissed off a lot of people that would love to get their revenge. Don’t make it easy for them.”

  Whirling on her stiletto heel, Alana marched down the hallway. “This isn’t over, Max.”

  Carrie didn’t say anything as his ex disappeared into the elevator. They simply stood there for a moment not speaking, not even looking at each other. Just standing as if trying to absorb what just happened.

  “I think I need a drink,” Max finally said. “Fancy a whiskey?”

  “Make it a double, Hamlet, and you’ve got a deal.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Max had been surprised many times in his life. But the most recent event was when the woman that hated his guts put her arm around him and pretended to be his adoring girlfriend for the benefit of his evil soon-to-be ex-wife. He hadn’t expected that at all.

  He was, however, so grateful he could kiss her feet.

  Back in his hotel room, he poured them both a generous whiskey, an excellent brand that the hotel manager had brought up personally along with a basket of chocolates. Sipping it slowly, Max savored the burn in his belly while he also enjoyed the quiet. That was one of the nice traits of Carrie. She wasn’t one of those women who felt the need to fill every silence with meaningless babble. She was comfortable with not saying a word. In the end, it was him that finally spoke.

  “Why did you do that?”

  She didn’t answer, instead asking him a question of her own.

  “Are you angry that I did?”

  “No. I’m glad actually, but I’m surprised. We haven’t exactly been friends.”

  A smile played on her pink lips. “Let’s just say you’re lucky these windows don’t actually open.”

  The thought of a little thing like her tossing him out on his arse was amusing. “I’m not sure you could get me out the window. I’m a few pounds heavier than you.”

  “Maybe I was planning to drive you so crazy you’d jump out voluntarily.”

  “Even Alana hasn’t managed that. So I’ll ask again. Why did you do it?”

  She stared at the amber liquid in the highball glass. “Because I know she hurt you and I hate to think of her doing it again. I wasn’t too sure if you’d play along. I was waiting for you to ask me what the hell I was doing.”

  Tentatively, he sat next to Carrie on the couch. So many things in their short relationship had gone awry and it was mostly his fault. His issues kept him from connecting to people and she was paying the price.

  “I’m grateful,” he confessed. “I didn’t expect you to try and help me, but I’m glad you did. Although now that I’ve announced you as my girlfriend it makes it hard for you to pretend otherwise, never seeing me again.”

  “I thought about that but I still couldn’t let her hurt you again.”

  A big, soft heart. He should have known. Carrie’s ex-fiance was a damn idiot. This care and tenderness could have been all his but he’d treated her shabbily. With any luck, karma had taken note.

  “It’s not that I’m really hurting anymore. She doesn’t have the power to hurt me now. She’s killed any love I may have had for her with her actions. It’s that I’m completely humiliated. I was such an idiot when it came to her. I wanted to believe everything she said and why? Because I wanted my marriage to succeed even when the signs were there from day one that it was doomed. Sometimes I wonder if I loved her at all. Maybe I loved the idea of being a husband and having a family. Does that sound awful to you?”

  Carrie took a sip of her whiskey before answering. “I think that’s probably more common than you think. In love with love. You wanted to be in love, you wanted to be married, so you found an attractive, desirable woman and put a ring on her finger. But happily ever after has to be earned. Look at Nate and Paige.”

  They’d been through hell to get where there were now. Little had come to them easily except love and passion. But making room for each other, making compromises, that had been a hard road.

  “Bloody Christ, is that what I did? Just picked a woman and married her. No wonder I’m divorced. Or soon to be, anyway.”

  “I’ve seen men do that, even my brother before he married Jeannie. Men want a woman that other men want but can’t get, right? You chose a female that men found desirable but hey, she chose you too. But there’s more to marriage than other males wanting your wife.”

  Max nodded. “Hmmm…like what?”

  She gaped at him in surprise. “You don’t know? You’re forty and you don’t know what’s important to you in a lifetime mate? You haven’t given it any thought whatsoever? And don’t say great sex. You won’t care about that when you’re ninety.”

  “I care about it now,” he retorted. “I’m tired of women saying sex isn’t important. Sex is important. And I’m thirty-nine, not forty.”

  “Excuse the hell out of me. Thirty-nine,” Carrie shot back. “And I’m not saying it isn’t important but it can’t be the only criteria for selecting a woman, Max. You should make a list of the traits you desire in a wife and mother. Be sure to list sex because as you say that is important. But I can’t believe, especially now that you’ve been married, that you think that’s all it takes to make it work.”

  Holy Christ, she was taking this organization stuff too far. “You want me to make a list? Should I prioritize it as well? Color code it? Laminate it?”

  Huffing out a breath, she rolled her eyes. “Stop making fun of me. I simply think it would be helpful for you if you had some idea as to what you’re truly looking for in a woman. There’s a school of thought that talks about writing things down as a way to manifest them in reality. Just don’t limit yourself to that list if you
meet someone in real life that doesn’t meet every single criteria.”

  Max frowned and drained his glass. “Have you done this?”

  “I’ve done this exercise a few times in my life. Even if you don’t use the list, it’s an interesting exercise. What do you truly value in a mate? What are deal breakers? What could you live with?”

  “What are your deal breakers?”

  He didn’t know why he wanted to know. But he did.

  “Physical violence, of course. Verbal assault.”

  “Those are a given.”

  She nodded. “They are. Addictions are out too. Gambling, alcohol, drugs. He should be gainfully employed. He doesn’t have to be rich but he should be hard working, but I don’t want a workaholic either. He should know how to balance work and life.”

  “A regular paragon,” Max drawled.

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “You asked.”

  “You’re right. Anything else?”

  Tapping her chin, she chewed on her lips. “Hmmm…smoking. I’m not fond of cigarette smoke.”

  He was a reformed smoker. He only did it for roles now. Or when he was incredibly stressed.

  “I quit a few years ago.”

  “That’s good. You’ll live longer. Now what do we do?”

  He refilled their glasses. “We iron out a deal. One we can both live with. Will you do that for me, Carrie? Will you help me? I can help you too. We can do this if we stick together.”

  Several emotions flickered across her expressive features. She didn’t like him much and that was his fault. He wasn’t the warmest of men when meeting new people and she was a prickly one. But she was also smart and she had to be able to see he could help her too. With no false modestly, he knew that being his girlfriend would ensure no one felt sorry for her now that her ex had broken the engagement. In fact, Max made a mental note to have his PR people put out the story that she broke it off.

  For him, of course.

  “The chances are high that we’ll end up at each other’s throats but I can hardly say no now that we’ve told Alana that I’m your girlfriend. So against my common sense, I will.” She lifted her glass. “Here’s to fake love and devotion.”

  The best kind. The only kind he’d ever known.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Max had sent her a text inviting her to lunch at a neighborhood pub the next day to talk about the agreement. After saying yes to his business proposal last night, her brain had been busily thinking of everything that could go wrong.

  It was a long list.

  At the top was the fact she wasn’t sure anyone was going to buy this.

  The pub wasn’t all that busy and she easily found Max in a booth near the back. He was staring at his phone – again – and she had the most evil urge to toss it into the Thames. She loved her phone and iPad but even she didn’t lose herself in them as often as this guy did.

  Clearing her throat, she slid into the booth. “Hello. Thanks for inviting me to lunch.”

  He looked up and didn’t smile. He didn’t scowl or frown either though, so this was progress. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. My PR people brought by a sample contract and I thought it best if we discussed it as soon as possible.”

  She picked up the menu. “You don’t have rehearsals today?”

  “Not today, although I do have costume fittings this afternoon.”

  They always seemed to run out of conversation quickly. Last night’s dinner had been excruciatingly quiet with both of them trying to be polite. By dessert, she was longing for when they’d just snipe at each other. At least they were talking.

  The waitress came and took their order before Max pulled some rolled-up papers from his jacket pocket. “I’ve read through it and it seems straightforward. You, of course, can get an attorney if you like.”

  She paged through the contract, nothing ringing any alarm bells. In her business she looked at contracts quite a bit. “Pap walks. That I expected. Public appearances. Normal. Clothes and jewels? No way. You are not buying me anything.”

  “This I won’t budge on. You’re here to help me. You wouldn’t need any new clothes or jewels if you weren’t. This is a business expense as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Then I’ll return everything when we’re through.”

  Chuckling, he casually stretched out his legs. “And what will I do with the clothes? I can’t return them. You might as well keep them, Carrie. Consider it a parting gift, one that you will have more than earned at the end of this four-month contract.”

  She’d give them back and he could donate them to charity. However, she didn’t bother wasting her breath to argue the point. He was in bossy Brit mode at the moment, so it was best to simply let him think he’d won.

  “Here’s a gem. There will be no sex.” She looked up at him with a smirk. “I know I can go without it but can you?”

  She was half-relieved he didn’t want to have sex with her and half-insulted. Did he only date great beauties? She’d Googled him and his ex-girlfriends and every one of them had been drop-dead gorgeous.

  His ruddy cheeks answered her own question without his having said a word.

  “You weren’t planning to go without sex.” She took a big gulp of the soda the waitress had set in front of her. “Man, I am so naive.”

  “I wouldn’t do anything to embarrass you,” he said, shifting in his seat. “I’d be discreet as I would expect of you also should you find someone you’re interested in. Just because we don’t have sex…”

  Hollywood from this angle looked sleazy.

  “Ah, I get it. It’s all on the down low. Daytime friends and nighttime lovers.”

  “Something like that,” he mumbled, studying his phone again while she turned her attention back to the contract. Reading further, it all looked standard. If there was such a thing when it came to a relationship. There were out-clauses at certain milestones if either of them felt it wasn’t working out in the first few months, which she was relieved to see.

  “I don’t see any red flags here. Do you want me to sign now?”

  He looked surprised but she had no issues with it. She dug a pen out of her purse and held it up. “Looks like I just have this one place to sign. Correct?”

  “Yes, then I’ll sign it. My PR team will get you an executed copy in a day or two.”

  They’d finished just in time as their meals were delivered to the table. Carrie’s stomach growled as the scent of fried fish wafted around her nose. She loved junk food. From the way Max was digging into his lunch, it looked like they finally had something in common. Maybe she could find a few more things they both liked. Puppies and rainbows, for instance.

  The contract was signed. She had to make this work.

  * * *

  Max and Carrie were halfway through their lunch when her question came out of left field. For some reason that he couldn’t understand now, he’d thought they could glide through this showmance without really getting personal. Frankly it was an insane thought but he’d been holding on to it since the moment the idea had come to him.

  “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself,” she suggested. “People are going to assume that I know quite a bit but I don’t, except for the few things I found on your Wikipedia page.”

  It was like being interviewed, a task he hated. They asked the same questions over and over until he wanted to scream with frustration.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “What do you think I should know? What will your friends and family expect me to know?”

  Drumming his fingers on the scarred wood surface of the table, he pondered her question. “I’m not sure. They’ll probably assume you know that I snore and hog the blankets. I like to read and I can only cook a few things. I do a nice baked chicken and also a pasta with red sauce. If you want anything other than that, we’ll need to call for takeout.”

  Was that enough?

  “Okay, that’s a start. How about you tell me about your ch
ildhood. Was it a happy one?”

  “If you read my Wikipedia, you already know the answer to that.”

  He’d never get used to people knowing personal things about him. It was…creepy.

  “I know what you tell interviewers. But I’m asking for the real story. Did you have a happy childhood?”

  “Yes, actually I did. Because I was an only child my parents doted on me and took me everywhere with them. They treated me like an adult from quite a young age. They were very encouraging about my career.”

  “Your mother and father are in the business.”

  “They made it seem like the greatest profession in the entire world. I never thought to be anything else. Except maybe a cowboy. I watched a lot of American westerns when I was a boy.” He took a sip of his beer. “What about you? Happy childhood?”

  Carrie wrinkled her nose, a sign he was beginning to recognize. It meant she was thinking about her answer. He had to admit that he liked that about her. She didn’t just blurt out the first words that popped into her head. She tended to ponder over things before she spoke.

  “I did have a happy childhood although, unlike you, I had to share my parents with Greg. He was three years older and a star athlete. I was the geeky, book smart little sister who trailed after him and had crushes on his friends.”

  “I think geeky and book smart is a good thing.”

  He could see her sitting in class with her red hair down her back and a pair of glasses perched on her nose. Wearing a schoolgirl uniform. Max knew enough about the States to know that wasn’t the norm but a man could dream, right?

  “My parents thought it was too when I got a full-ride scholarship to college. Higher education is expensive in the States and we didn’t have tons of money growing up. My mom was a teacher and my dad worked for the power company.”

  “Having a teacher for a mother must have been helpful when it came to your schoolwork.”

  She rolled her eyes and bit into a chip. “What it really meant is that I could never, ever miss a day of school unless I was on death’s door. I hated that. Plus, she knew all my teachers in grade school so I couldn’t get away with anything. Nothing. If I so much as chewed a piece of gum my mother would hear about it. I was never so happy to go to middle school where I was anonymous.”