“I took the easy way out,” Jake explained. “I ran headlong into that tackle hoping—no, praying—I would get hurt.”
“You were in a coma for three months,” I breathed.
Jake’s lips twisted in disgust. “It worked a little too well.”
I let go of him and stepped back, putting my hands to my head. “You could have been killed.”
“Yes.”
“Or brain damaged!”
“I know.”
My eyes filled with tears. Even though it had happened to a different Jake, a Jake I didn’t know, I couldn’t bear the thought of him being hurt. “Or paralyzed. You could have been paralyzed.”
“Yes.”
I took another step away from him and turned toward the ocean, my head whirling with thoughts. To feel desperate enough to do something that extreme told me just how unhappy he must have been.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“What?”
I faced him again, my eyes still filled with tears for him. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.
He swallowed, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “It’s OK. I understand.” He nodded decisively. “When we get back to the house I’ll take you home.”
“Jake?” I asked, not comprehending his words.
He avoided my eyes and whistled for Stella. “I get it. It’s too much. You don’t want to be with me. I understand—”
“No!” I ran over to him and took his face in both of my hands. “No,” I said again firmly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to go through that. You must have felt so trapped to do it, to risk your life like that, and betrayed by everyone close to you. Couldn’t they see you were unhappy? That you were making yourself sick because of it? You took a desperate measure in a split second that was handed to you. Knowing what you know now, you’d have done it differently, but I can see why you did it.”
Jake’s eyes were the same color as the ocean hinting at hidden depths I was only beginning to realize. He closed them as if it pained him to look at me. “It was still a selfish thing to do.”
“You were young—”
“No!” His eyes flew open, flaring in anger, and I dropped my hands. “No. It was the lowest thing I could have done. The player who tackled me dropped out of college afterward because he was so burdened by the guilt of what he’d done. He would have been terrified to tackle anyone again after that. And I still didn’t have the courage to own up to what I’d done.”
“You could tell him now.”
Jake flinched as if he’d been hit. “What? It’s been fifteen years. How would that help anything?”
“I don’t know. It might, it might not. You won’t know unless you try.”
He shook his head. “No. It would be selfish of me. The only person who would feel better after I told him the truth would be me. If I’d told him back then, sure, he might have gone on to play more football. But now? It’s too late. I ruined his career. Why rub it in?”
“Maybe it would put it to rest for him, too?”
“Ally. I see where you’re coming from. You’re honest to a fault. I get that. But I’m Jacob Swan now. He’d crucify me in the media.”
“So?”
“So, it could end my career!”
“You’re right. It could, but you’re not trapped anymore.” I signaled to Stella and turned in the direction of the house, not wanting to push the point any further. He was right. Approaching the player to apologize would be a huge risk, but at the same time I wanted him to know it was still an option. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
He fell into step beside me. “I’m in a different sort of cage now.”
“Hollywood? Only if you choose to be.”
He let out a sigh. “I’m not trying to sound condescending, please don’t think that, but I’m not sure you know what it’s like.”
“I’ve got an idea. Lena’s my best friend, remember? You have a job with a high profile. You’re not the only one. What about the president? Is he trapped?”
Jake frowned. “No. But would you want to date the president?”
“Well, no, he’s not my type.”
His frown softened into a wry smile. “Ally, when I kissed you in Lena’s bathroom you ran away. Why?”
I dropped my eyes to focus on the sand. “You’re a good kisser.”
“And why did you stay away all week?” he pressed.
I sighed. He was right. I didn’t like the constant scrutiny that came with his choice of career, but I did like him. A lot. “I’m here now. I just needed some time to get used to it, that’s all. Now that I’m a famous fashion designer it’s getting easier.”
He ignored my joke. “Is that what you want?”
“What?”
“To be a famous fashion designer?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. I’d settle for being able to make a living out of it. I could take or leave the fame part.”
He nodded. “I’d understand if this life was too much for you. Sometimes it gets too much for me.”
“But you like acting, don’t you?”
He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Absolutely.”
“That means you’re in the right job, so you shouldn’t feel trapped. You’re passionate about it. It’s not like football.”
“True,” he agreed. “Maybe trapped is the wrong word. How about limited?”
“Is that because you’re not taking the roles you want to?” I watched him carefully for a response, my earlier conversation with Chloe still lingering in my mind.
He shrugged. “We’ve been through this. It’s not something I have a lot of control over.”
It was like I’d finally found the missing puzzle piece I’d been searching for. Now I understood. It wasn’t that Jake was easygoing, it was that he felt he’d never had any control over his life. He’d spent his childhood and adult life relinquishing control. Apart from running into that one tackle when he was at college, he’d let life steer him in whatever direction it chose. Considering how badly that one decision had impacted on his life, it was no wonder he went with the status quo.
“You’re scared to try,” I announced. It wasn’t a question.
Confusion creased his forehead. “I’m not scared.”
“Well, you’re playing it safe then.” It all made sense now. If Jake took a challenging new role and it tanked, he’d lose face. That’s what had happened with his football career. He was a rising star and everyone had loved him. After he took that tackle I suspected he found out who his real friends were. And did that have anything to do with the fallout between him and his older brother?
Conscious I might be coming on too strong, I decided to change tack. “I was playing it safe.”
He glanced across at me warily. “By working in your parents’ restaurant?”
“Yes. Absolutely. I’m so out of my depth here it scares me,” I admitted.
“Which is why I said you’re braver than I am.”
I reached across and took his hand. “No. I’m not. What did you say before? Practice and self-belief. I think you missed something, though.”
“What’s that?”
“A good team behind you, cheering you on. That’s why you persisted with football for so long, isn’t it? You didn’t want to let down those who believed in you.”
“Maybe.”
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Lena. Or for Arabella cheering me on or Chloe putting her hand up to support me when it would have been safer go to home, but I’m still here. Who’s on your team, Jake?”
He shrugged again. “I’ve kind of avoided teams since retiring from football.”
“Then you need a new improved one and I’m appointing myself head coach of Team Jake.”
He finally smiled a genuine smile and it was like the sun had come out. “You just want to boss me around.”
“Damn right. And Chloe’s head cheerleader. She thinks you could play a kick-ass evil character.”
“You were talking about me with Ch
loe?” Fortunately he appeared more amused than annoyed.
“Yes, you’re famous remember? And have you asked your fans? They’re on Team Jake as well.”
“My fans?”
“Yes. Jake, there are people out there who love you—scary as that concept is. Ask them what sort of roles they’d like to see you in.”
“Ask them?”
“Yes! It’s a brave new world of social media. Tweet it, post it on Facebook. Engage them. It’s the fans who buy the movie tickets.”
“But it’s the movie studios who make the movies,” he pointed out.
I waved a dismissive hand in his direction, really warming to my theme. “So do something different! Take a role on Broadway—assuming you’re comfortable doing theater. Get involved in an indie film. If this is your passion, Jake, don’t let it pass you by. If you could do that well at football and your heart wasn’t in it, think of what you could achieve as an actor.”
He fell silent and we continued to walk along the sand toward his house, hand-in-hand.
When we stopped in front of his house, he turned to study me. “You’re a firecracker, you know that?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. I think.”
“It’s a compliment, trust me. Come here.” He reached for my hips and pulled me to him, pressing his forehead against mine. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
His mouth curved in a playful smile. “How can I show my appreciation?”
“Hmm. I can think of a few ways . . . ”
Chapter 32
The next two weeks flew by. My days became a blur of designing and sewing and dress-fittings, and my nights were filled with Jake. I told myself not to get used to it—Jake starts filming on a new movie soon and I wouldn’t have easy access to him after that. The only good thing about his upcoming role was the daily training sessions he undertook religiously. The movie was an action film, something set in a futuristic post-apocalyptic world. Naturally, Jake's role was to save the world—if anyone could do it, I had faith he could. It meant he was even more buff than usual, and I dedicated myself to showing him my full appreciation of his physique.
It was Friday night and I was rushing to complete the hem on the last of my ready-to-wear pieces before Jake arrived. I startled at the knock on the door of my workroom and glanced at the clock. It was only five o’clock and Jake wasn’t due for at least another hour.
“Sorry,” Lena apologized. “Just me. Can you join me downstairs for a sec? Marc is here.”
“Sure.” I put the dress to one side carefully and flicked the switch on my sewing machine. “Anything good?” I asked. There’d been no leads on the break-and-enter to date, or the impostor tweets. Instead of feeling worried about it, the lack of anything new made it feel distant, almost like it had happened to someone else. Almost. I’d been keeping a low profile and hadn’t exactly been hitting the town. More like the bedroom with Jake, which was just fine with me.
“I don’t know. Marc won’t say anything until you come downstairs,” Lena replied.
“Keeps his cards pretty close to his chest, that guy,” I commented.
Lena let out a polite grunt.
“He gets under your skin, doesn’t he?” I asked.
She blinked and appeared surprised. “Who, Marc?” she said, as though that wasn’t who we had already been discussing. “No, not really. I’ve learned not to take his attitude personally.”
“Because he’s like that with everyone?”
A small smile touched her lips as we reached the top of the stairs. “Except you. I think he likes your cooking.”
I laughed and it echoed around the vast foyer. “The Valenti cooking strikes again.”
We made our way into the kitchen and my smile faltered. “Hi, Suzie.” I glanced questioningly at Lena at the sight of her publicist, and she gave me a reassuring look.
“Hi, Ally,” Suzie said as we joined them at the table. “I was here having a meeting with Lena. Marc asked me to stay.” As if to prove her point, she put a laptop into an oversized leather handbag. It didn’t escape my notice that the color of the leather perfectly matched her neatly cropped brown hair. She was minimally made up and fresh faced compared to the rest of LA, but she was no less meticulous in her appearance.
Marc didn’t even look up. He was punching a message into his phone, so Lena and I sat down. It seemed rude to talk so we waited and the silence felt loaded, although it gave me another chance to study him. He’d tossed his overcoat onto an empty chair nearby and it struck me again how well put together he was. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt, which had a shiny quality to it. He’d paired it with fitted black jeans and the result was definitely Hollywood instead of law enforcement. He looked ready to walk into a nightclub and I could picture him sitting by the bar, brooding, watching a room full of people, not missing a thing.
Finally, he put his phone down. “We went through the footage prior to the break-in,” he said, not bothering to greet us. “There was nothing out of the ordinary and then we got distracted by the situation on Twitter, but as I expected, there were no leads on that. This week I made the team broaden the time frame on the security vision, which was when it got interesting.”
He reached for a laptop sitting on the table in front of him and turned it to face us. He hit play on a video. We watched as an indistinguishable, dark-colored sedan stopped on the street outside Lena’s gates but made no move to turn in.
“This footage was taken a week before the Golden Globes, but it’s not the only time it happened.”
“Has the car been back since the break-in?” Lena asked. Her voice was business-like and I wondered if she was relying on her acting abilities to keep any fear at bay.
“No. It happened earlier than that. In fact, that car drove by almost weekly for the past three months. The video you just watched was the last occasion.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Suzie, mirroring my own unsettled thoughts.
“We were able to identify the plates from the footage. The car is registered to Duncan Moore.”
Lena stiffened beside me. My suspicions had been right. She was being stalked by her not-quite-ex-husband.
“The bastard,” I said.
Marc shook his head. “We checked his movements. It wasn’t him. We believe it was his ex-wife, Miranda.”
Lena blinked like she’d just woken from a dream. “Miranda?”
Marc nodded once.
I stood up, the chair scraping on the tiles as I tried to make sense of the information. “I suspected her, too,” I announced, pacing back and forth. I wasn’t sure how Lena could sit so still with this weird, creepy things going on in her life. “But here’s what I can’t get my head around: how did she break-in here during the Golden Globes? I spoke to her at the after party. And I know she didn’t attend the actual ceremony but that doesn’t mean anything. Have you seen that woman? She makes the Egyptians looks like novices when it comes to preservation. It would have taken hours for her to get ready. Days. There’s no way she could have broken in here and done all that damage. I know she looks about forty but she’s got to be close to sixty. Her face doesn’t move. Has anyone seen her face move?”
Marc sat back in his seat, his lips pressed into a thin line, but I thought I saw the hint of a smile for a brief second. “We don’t believe she broke in here.”
“Oh,” I said, and Lena and Suzie frowned.
“It’s possible she hired someone to do it for her,” he said.
“Oh,” I breathed. Of course. That made more sense. Hire someone to do the dirty work. How very Hollywood of her. “And we had a nice cosy chat at the after party so it looks like she’s got an alibi,” I told him.
“Do you really think Miranda would go to such extreme lengths to get Duncan back?” Lena asked, sounding doubtful. I had to admit, while the story fit, I was having a hard time imagining such a motherly woman organizing for my designs to be destroyed.
“Perh
aps she felt she had to because of Allegra’s involvement with Jake,” Suzie suggested, and we all turned to look at her. I didn’t miss the flicker of discomfort as she glanced at Lena. I recalled the conversation between Lena and Duncan around the circumstances of their separation, which Suzie had been involved in.
“Suzie’s right,” Marc said. “We believe Miranda is under the impression a reconciliation between Duncan and Lena is possible,” he said, giving Lena a pointed look.
“I’m not interested in a reconciliation with Duncan,” Lena cut in.
I was sure Lena hadn’t gone into any detail with Marc about her conversation with Duncan when she raised him as a suspect. Then again, Marc seemed to have an uncanny knack of sensing people’s emotions despite seeming emotionless himself.
“Miranda hasn’t shied away from saying publicly that Lena and Jake are a perfect couple,” he continued, ignoring her.
I nodded, recalling what she’d said to me on the night of the Golden Globes.
“It could be possible that, in her mind,” Marc said, “Lena and Jake need to be together to ensure her relationship with Duncan. Obviously while Ally is with Jake that isn’t going to happen.”
Marc’s dark gaze settled on me.
“Yes,” I said. “It’s not secret.”
He tilted his head thoughtfully. “That’s funny. Things have been awfully quiet lately.”
“That’s deliberate! How would you like your every move caught on camera?”
“So you’re not hiding the relationship?”
“No,” I said stubbornly. Well, not exactly, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. We were just attempting to have a normal relationship and avoid public scrutiny where possible.
Suzie spoke up. “Jake’s also my client. I gave him the advice to lay low.”
“Well, I’m going to issue some conflicting advice. You need to be seen with him. As much as possible.”
I gaped at him and so did the others.
Lena shook her head. “This isn’t a game.”
“I don’t play games,” he shot back.
“Why?” I demanded.
“Because other than the footage of the car outside Lena’s, that’s all we have to link Miranda to the break-in.”
Heartthrob (Hollywood Hearts, #1) Page 23
