Phantom's Touch

by LETO, JULIE

  “Thank you so much for agreeing—” she began.

  The casting director quickly interrupted. “You wanted to meet with me regarding Aiden Forsyth?”

  “We’re looking for him,” Cat replied.

  Helen glanced at Ben. “Why is that?”

  “He’s my uncle.”

  Helen snorted, accepting what looked like a pomegranate martini that a waiter delivered before anyone had even ordered. Clearly, the woman was a regular.

  “He’s younger than you are,” Helen said.

  A muscle in Ben’s jaw ticked, but his smile was smooth as glass. “My father—his much older brother, had me very late in life.”

  Her eyes remained narrow and assessing. “You don’t have the same last name.”

  Ben leaned forward. Cat could only imagine what Ben’s potent sandalwood cologne was doing to Helen’s senses.

  “Not a very trusting person, are you?” Ben challenged.

  “This is Hollywood,” she answered simply. “What was it Jay Leno said? If God doesn’t do something about Hollywood, he owes Sodom and Gomorrah an apology.”

  Ben chuckled. “Then you’ll understand when I tell you that my father had some questionable dealings in his past that forced him to change his name. But Aiden is still his brother. Clearly, you know him . . .”

  She waved her hand as if she would not verify this fact one way or another.

  “. . . or you know how we can contact him,” Ben continued. “If you can arrange a meeting as soon as possible, he’ll verify that we’re family. Trust me.”

  Helen took a smooth sip of her drink and laughed. “Well, at least I’ve verified that you are indeed new to this town. Only an out-of-towner would ask me to do that.”

  With a snap, she instructed the waiter to bring over drinks for Ben and Cat. She filled the silence between ordering and delivery with innocuous questions about their stay in Los Angeles, turning the topic back to Aiden only after all three of them had vodka-pom concoctions sitting in front of them. “So, your uncle . . . or whatever. Is he in trouble of some sort?”

  Ben eyed her quizzically. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Just wondering why you had to go through a stranger in order to make contact with a relative. Couldn’t you call his cell phone?”

  Ben smiled again. “Pretty sure he doesn’t have one. He’s an old-fashioned guy.”

  Helen’s eyebrows lifted, as if Ben’s words had just verified that he did indeed know the man he claimed was his uncle.

  “And you have no other way to reach him?”

  After a sip of the tart martini, Ben shook his head with just the right touch of vulnerable charm. Cat had to squelch the instinct to reach over and pat his hand. Man, he was good.

  “I’m afraid he hasn’t been in touch with his family for what seems like centuries.”

  He kept his eyes trained on Helen.

  “Family squabble?” she asked.

  “Something like that. He and my father haven’t spoken for a very long time. And, to be honest, my father isn’t doing well, health-wise, so I took a chance in coming out here and seeing if I could work out some sort of reunion.”

  Cat lifted the martini glass to her lips to hide her grin. Damn, but Ben really was brilliant. And handsome. And sexy. After a mouthful of flavored vodka passed over her lips, she gave herself a little shake and concentrated again on how smart he was. Keeping to the truth would bypass the highly tuned bullshit detector Helen Talbot seemed to have plugged in to her sharp blue eyes.

  “We heard that he came out here to see Lauren Cole,” Ben continued. “But she’s not exactly in the white pages. Cat is practically family with Alexa Chandler, who, of course, owns this hotel, so we came out and had the concierge help us track you down in hopes of making contact with Ms. Cole and, subsequently, my uncle.”

  Helen rubbed a fingertip along the edge of her glass. “I don’t know. Ms. Cole is very busy.”

  Cat decided to turn up the heat. “We’re not asking for a private audience. We just need to get a message through to Aiden. Uncle Aiden.”

  Helen turned to Cat, folding her arms in the process. “How do I know you’re not from the tabloids, trying to get an inside source to verify some torrid affair?”

  “Anyone on the hotel staff, all the way up to the manager, will verify that we’re personal friends of Alexa Chandler,” Cat explained. “She’s out of the country, but she’s reachable by phone if you wish to speak with her directly.”

  Helen finished the rest of her drink, then stood.

  Ben did the same. “Ms. Talbot, we realize that you have to be very careful about facilitating contacts between strangers and someone as famous as Lauren Cole, but we really don’t need to speak to her so much as we need to speak to my uncle. Maybe if you give him this, he’ll know that I am who I say I am.”

  Ben pulled a gold button out of his pocket and pressed it into Helen’s hand.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “A family heirloom,” Ben replied. “It’s become something of a lucky charm for my father, though it once belonged to Aiden. Please give him this and explain to him that we need to see him. That we can help him win the freedom he’s looking for.”

  With an expression that hovered somewhere between a skeptical smile and an out-and-out smirk, Helen slid the button into the pocket of her slacks, gave them both a curt nod, then turned to leave. About five steps out, she spun back. “I can reach you here?”

  Ben flashed a golden-boy grin. “Absolutely.”

  “Wait for my call, then,” she announced. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Once Helen Talbot had disappeared out of the bar, Cat relaxed into her seat. She expected Ben to follow suit, but instead he remained standing, staring after Helen Talbot as if he could will her to act on their behalf.

  “Ben?”

  “She’s seen him.”

  Cat gave a little tug until Ben sat down again. “Well, it looks that way, but she didn’t really say for sure. She was pretty sly about it, actually.”

  Ben downed the last of his drink, then signaled the waiter for another. “If she’s seen him, you know what that means?”

  “That other people may have seen him as well.”

  “If he’s already in the phantom state, we don’t have much time to find him. He doesn’t have the protection of the castle to keep him from being stolen by the K’vr.”

  “But he has the magic,” Cat reassured him.

  “And if it’s still as corruptible as what Damon had to fight against . . .”

  His voice drifted away. He was thinking. Formulating. Planning. Meshing together all the information they had and trying to work out a plan. Unfortunately, Cat knew there was nothing they could do unless Helen Talbot came through. Aiden simply had to fight the infectious nature of the magic on his own.

  26

  “Lauren? What are your thoughts?”

  Lauren snapped to attention, mortified. Michael Sharpe, her director, as well as the writers, the production assistants and the principal cast, were gathered in a conference room adjacent to the soundstage, waiting for her input on . . . what? She had no idea. She’d managed to keep her head in the game long enough to complete two read-throughs of the new scene Michael had just added to the screenplay, but somewhere amid an argument over stage directions, she’d lost her train of thought. She’d struggled to keep on track since leaving this morning without so much as a whispered word from Aiden. Now anticipation and doubt hung thick in the air as everyone waited for her to speak.

  “I’m sorry, Michael. I’m still a little fuzzy. What was it you asked?”

  She hated blaming her recent injury for her inability to concentrate, but Michael smiled, and the rest of the crowd chimed in with understanding words and claims that she’d come back to work too soon. She needed to focus. To earn the respect and consideration everyone seemed so willing to blindly give. Hadn’t she learned that merging her personal and professional lives was not a good idea?
She had to carry this film. They all depended on her to make this film a success, especially now that Ross wasn’t choreographing her every move.

  But instead of giving Lauren a chance to redeem herself, Michael called for a break. They had been working for three hours straight. She supposed she could use a moment alone.

  Really alone. She’d left the house this morning without Aiden’s sword, opting to lock the silent weapon in her bedroom safe. Since then, no matter how many people were chattering to her or around her, a cold silence hung heavy in the air—an emptiness that made her stomach ache. She had to learn to fill that stillness with her character of Athena and no one else or she was going to flop.

  She’d barely risen from the table when Cinda appeared at her side. “Can I get you anything?”

  Lauren forced a smile. “No, I just need a few minutes.”

  Cinda hung back while Lauren worked her way through the people milling around the room or heading toward craft services for a snack. She spied her trailer from across the soundstage and lowered her head, hoping to get there without anyone waylaying her. She had her hand on the doorknob when someone grabbed her by the arm.

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  She cut off her polite brushoff when she registered who had his hand on her.

  “Let go of me,” she spat.

  Ross released her. “No need to be testy, sweetheart. You’re the high queen of this little court now, aren’t you? You don’t have any reason to hate me anymore.”

  She opened her mouth to list all the reasons she still had to despise him, but thought better of it. Not because he was her producer, but because she didn’t have the energy to care.

  “What do you want, Ross?”

  “My sword.”

  For a split second she considered handing over the damned thing and being done with it. No more phantom to force her with his keen gray stare to look at her life. No more lover to complicate her ambitions or step in the way of her path to her future. No more man to try to tell her what she could do or what she should do or when.

  But the confused and selfish moment passed quickly. She wouldn’t turn Aiden over to Ross for all the freedom the world had to give.

  “What else can I help you with?” she asked.

  “You’re turning out to be rather clever, you know, showing the video of you using the sword to Michael and the art director. I thought both of them were going to jack off right in front of me, though honestly I couldn’t tell if it was you or the sword that was turning them on.”

  “Probably both,” she snapped, though holding tight to her overconfident attitude wasn’t easy when she knew she hadn’t shown that video to anyone. The last time she’d had it in her possession had been shortly before her accident in the shower. She’d locked it up after watching it, hadn’t she? Who had found it? Helen had the combination, but she’d never show something so personal to Michael and the art director. Or would she?

  “Yes, well, that brings up my other reason for being here,” Ross said. “I’d like to meet the man who shared that little bit of theatrics with you.”

  Judging by the continued cool confidence in Ross’s tone, he hadn’t seen the whole tape. Still, Lauren’s lungs were constricted to the point where even a sigh of relief would hurt like hell.

  “He’s not here.”

  “Yes, I gathered as much, since the sun is shining. You know, Lauren, I’ve heard of actors making outrageous demands before, but do you have any idea how much it will cost me to pay the union to run production all night long?”

  “He’s not in every scene. Besides, you can afford it,” she said.

  Ross’s focused gaze faltered for a split second, instantly alerting her. She’d been with Ross too long not to know when something was wrong.

  “You can afford it, can’t you?”

  His grin was classic Ross—overconfident and condescending. “What if I couldn’t?”

  Lauren took an instinctive step forward and met Ross’s gaze dead-on. He glanced aside, and she cursed.

  “Ross, what did you do?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Lauren grabbed his shirt with one hand and opened her trailer door with the other, shuttling them both inside and then locking any prying ears out of their private conversation. She released him the moment she knew they were alone. “You never joke about money.”

  “Who was joking?”

  “ ‘What if I couldn’t?’ you said. As in, maybe your financing isn’t as strong as what you reported to the studio?”

  “The financing on this film is fine. I’d never put the Athena franchise in jeopardy.”

  “No, but unlike me, you’ve invested in more than just this franchise. My whole future is riding on Athena. You have your hand in dozens of other pies. If you’re in trouble, Ross, tell me now.”

  “Why? So you can help? Turn the tables on me and make me beholden to you after all the years that I taught you, supported you, made you a star?”

  Lauren inhaled deeply. She hadn’t wanted this showdown. Hadn’t asked for it. Wasn’t even prepared for it. But now that it was here, she was surprised to find she was up to the task.

  “I repaid you for your help and then some, and you know it. You’ve made enough money on my last four films to finance a war, so don’t come crying to me if you have to spend a little more this time around to make me happy. You want me to admit that you made me what I am? Fine. I’ll admit it. You made me. The good and the bad. Because of you, I can’t trust a single man who comes into my life, not even if he’s honorable and funny and sexy and would lay down his life for me if he could.”

  Her voice caught, but before Ross could call her on the unbidden show of emotion, she grabbed a bottled water from her fridge, twisted off the top with a yank and chugged. He was speechless, so she decided to finish her tirade and unburden her soul.

  “Because of you, all of Hollywood is circling me like vultures, waiting for me to screw up so that they can say I was never for real, never talented—that I was just a product designed and marketed by you to sell to the world. Because of you, I’m willing to betray my own personal happiness just so that I don’t fall on my face in this last Athena movie. I left you. I divorced you. And yet I’m still tied to you with iron bands that . . .”

  She faltered. The parallels between her inextricable bond to Ross and Aiden’s cursed connection to the sword hit her hard. She didn’t only have to free him. She had to free herself. She withdrew a second bottled water from the refrigerator and held the cold plastic to her increasingly hot face. “Do you have any idea how that feels?”

  Ross slumped onto the couch behind him and took a long minute to answer, staring at his hands while she panted with released rage.

  “Yes, I know how that feels.”

  His voice quavered. She half expected that when he looked up at her, he’d have tears in his eyes.

  But when his hazel met her blue, his face was bone dry and his mouth was a slash of resentment and cruelty. “Welcome to my world.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I did. And you enjoyed it.”

  “I didn’t know any better,” she shot back.

  “Now you do?”

  Images flashed in her mind. She and Aiden in the workout room. In the shower. In the hospital. In the pool. In her bed. Sensations spawned a spark of need within her that she’d fought all night long, knowing Aiden was near, but that he no longer wished to make love with her. She would change that, damn it. She’d find a way to make him understand or else free him, so he could find a woman who could be the lover he needed, even if she couldn’t. He deserved that much.

  Maybe more.

  She sighed heavily, finished with Ross in so many ways, she couldn’t begin to count.

  “What do you want from me, Ross?”

  “I want to meet your new lover.”

  “You mean my costar?”

  “Isn’t he one and the same?”

  She narrowed her eyes
and was thankful she’d left the sword at home. She couldn’t imagine that Aiden would not have found a way to interrupt this conversation at some point, and she, for one, was glad she’d spoken her piece, even if Ross was still acting like a self-serving idiot.

  “I told you, he’s not available.”

  Ross stood. “When will he be available?”

  She leveled her gaze directly into his. “His first scene isn’t scheduled until tomorrow night. I guess you’ll meet him then.”

  Though she gestured toward the door, Ross made no move to leave. “I’ve done background checks and as far as I can tell, the man doesn’t even exist. He’s not even SAG.”

  “Trust me, he exists,” she answered haughtily, even though, truth be told, she had no idea whether Aiden was going to appear in the film at all.

  For all she knew, she’d never see him again.

  As for the little details of Aiden having no identity in the modern world, she’d find a way to solve that problem as well. If he let her.

  “He’d better check out,” Ross said, pointing a finger accusingly at her.

  She smiled prettily. “Bite me.”

  “I have,” he snapped back. “The putrid taste still lingers on the palate.”

  Enraged, Lauren lobbed her water bottle, hitting the door just as he left, rattling the walls so that a few photographs dropped off the wall. When her throat hurt from containing a scream of frustration, she opened her mouth, prepared to let loose, when the door opened again.

  “What?”

  “Sorry!” Cinda said apologetically.

  “No,” Lauren said, trying to steady her breathing with deep lungfuls of air. “I’m sorry. I thought you were Ross again.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Is anything ever all right when that man is around?”

  Cinda didn’t reply, which was just as well.

  “Does Michael want me back?”

  “What? Oh, no. Not yet. But Helen called.”

  Lauren nearly doubled over from another emotional blow to the gut. Helen. She’d been meaning to reach out to her all day, but had secretly hoped that her friend would simply show up on set and act as if nothing nasty had transpired between them the night before. No such luck, she supposed. She really needed to check her horoscope, because so far this day had truly sucked.