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Dreaming Of Your Love (Hollywood Legends #3)

Page 24

by Mary J. Williams


  “I guess I’m going,” she grumbled.

  “Was there any doubt?”

  “Don’t gloat.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it.”

  Sable looked down at her jeans and t-shirt and sighed. She looked fine. L.A. chic. But fine wasn’t good enough. Not for Iris Ford. She had to take time and put on something her mother would consider a proper airport greeting outfit.

  She headed for the bedroom, Colt right on her heels.

  “There’s no need to change. You look great.” He flopped onto the bed. “Better than great. Now that I think about it, I’ll send a car for your mother. Too much chance of some foreign gigolo hitting on you at LAX.”

  “If it were anyone but my mother I wouldn’t bother. And what in God’s name would I do with a foreign gigolo?” Sable held up a silk dress and stood in front of the mirror. The red looked good with her dark hair and lightly tanned skin.

  “Kick him in the balls? That I would like to see. Are you sure I can’t come?”

  “You live in a beautiful, lollypop-lined world where mothers are Callie Flynn. Iris Ford isn’t just different. She comes from another planet. Save us both the trauma and stay home.”

  Sable walked out of the closet and did a twirl.

  “What do you think?”

  “Have I seen that dress before?”

  “No.” Sable frowned. Colt’s blank expression wasn’t the reaction she had hoped for.

  “Have I seen whatever you’re wearing under it?”

  Ah. Sable sent him a sly smile.

  “What makes you think I’m wearing anything?”

  “You can’t leave without underwear.”

  He jumped off the bed, but Sable was too far ahead of him. The heels of her slate gray pumps clicked across the hardwood floor.

  “Let’s see.” She checked the contents of her small black bag. “Comb. Lipstick. Gun. Just the essentials.”

  “Sable.”

  “Look.” Sable held up her skirt. “Black lace. The bra matches but you’ll have to take my word for it.”

  “I was going to say, take my car. But I’m fine with the peep show.”

  “You,” Sable grabbed the keys from his hand, “are an idiot.”

  Colt simply held out his arms. Shaking her head, Sable walked into his embrace.

  “Drive safe.”

  “Always.”

  “Text me when you get there.”

  “Promise me you’re in for the night. And no visitors outside of your family.”

  “I promise. I’ll wait up for you.”

  Sable kissed his chin, then lingered a little longer on his mouth, before stepping into the elevator. As the doors closed, she sent him a little wave and took a deep breath. She had no idea what mess was waiting for her at the airport. But knowing Colt would be here when she got back made the dread a little easier to bear.

  PARKING WAS A little easier at night—but not much. Sable found a spot in the lot next to LAX that was only a football field length from the entrance.

  Before getting out of the Maserati, she considered her options. Take the gun with her and deal with all the airport security hassles that would entail. Or leave it here—safely locked in the car.

  The choice was simple. Better to err on the side of caution. Sable looked around, making certain no one was near the car before slipping the gun from her purse. Opening the glove box required a scan of Colt’s thumbprint—or hers. He made that little addition at the same time he changed the security at the loft.

  On the walk to the terminal, she sent Colt a text.

  Made it safe and sound. Your car is guarding my gun. With a click, she set the alarm. But if I need a weapon, my stilettos should work nicely. See you soon.

  Sable could make a twenty-mile hike through mountain terrain with a full pack strapped to her back. But walking across pitted asphalt in four-inch heels was another thing altogether. She longed for her Keds and a bottle of water. She had to settle for the air-conditioned din of LAX.

  The sights and sounds of an airport rarely changed from city to city. Especially the large ones. People coming and going. Hurrying from here to there. This was not the destination. It was a necessary pit stop. A way out. Or a way in.

  Before security became the battle cry, loved ones could escort you to the boarding gate and watch as your plane took off. Now it was more of a waiting game.

  Sable stood to the side, out of the flow of bodies, and phoned her mother. She expected Iris to pick up after the first ring. When three went by, Sable felt a twinge of annoyance. When the call went to voicemail, she started to worry.

  Wandering around trying to find one lone woman would be a waste of time. Instead, Sable went to a courtesy counter and asked them to page her mother. It took fifteen minutes during which Sable’s imagination ran the gamut. The least she expected was for Iris to be upset.

  Once again, her mother refused to do the expected.

  “Sable.”

  The sing-song voice drew the attention of everyone at, or near, the courtesy desk. Relieved, Sable turned, prepared for anything. Except a smiling, laughing Iris on the arm of a handsome man.

  Iris looked fit and trim as always. But her hair was different. Very different. Her mother always wore it long. Once or twice a year, she would get no more than an inch or two trimmed off.

  The change involved more than a few inches of hair. Iris looked like a different woman with the flattering shoulder-length bob that bounced as she walked. And it was red. Eye-popping would be a good way of describing the color. It shouldn’t have worked. On anyone. But Iris managed to pull it off.

  “Mom. I love your hair.”

  “Thank you.” Iris gave the ends a practiced flip. “I felt like a change. When my cousin Tessy—you remember Tessy—well, she won a trip to Hawaii. Can you imagine? Her husband can’t get away from work so she insisted that I go with her.”

  That explained a lot. Tessy and Iris were as close as sisters. Though Tessy still lived in Tennessee, they kept in touch. These days they would Skype at least once a week.

  Sable accepted Iris’ hug but her eyes were on the smiling stranger. The man looked prosperous, but didn’t all con men? Easy marks like her mother were drawn to charming men in well-tailored suits. And if they had a big white smile, a nice physique, and dimples, it didn’t hurt.

  “Sable, I want to introduce you to Wade Fairfax. This nice man was kind enough to keep me company while I waited for you.” Iris fluttered her lashes. “Even though there were plenty of younger women his own age giving him the eye.”

  “Younger?” Wade turned his blinding smile on Sable. “I couldn’t believe it when Iris told me that she had a grown daughter. I would have taken you for sisters.”

  It was all Sable could do to contain the groan that wanted to burst from her mouth. That old chestnut? Naturally, her mother ate it up with a spoon. The guy was young enough to be Sable’s brother. And Iris, while a very attractive woman, looked her age.

  “You won’t believe what this kind young man did for me, Sable.”

  Oh, I’ll believe it. The question was, how much had it cost and could she recover the money.

  “It was nothing,” Wade grinned, his dimple getting alarmingly bigger. “I know some people at the airline. When your mother mentioned that her connecting flight to Honolulu wasn’t leaving until late tomorrow morning, I called a friend and got her on an earlier flight.”

  “Wasn’t that nice of him, Sable? I leave in two hours.” Iris bubbled with excitement. A new emotion to go along with the hair. Again, it looked good on her.

  “Excuse me for a minute. I want to make sure Iris’ luggage is transferred to the proper plane.”

  “I can’t believe my luck.” Iris sighed with pleasure. “I was bored to tears waiting for you so I struck up a conversation with Wade. Boom. He offers to take care of everything.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s kind? Oh, I see that.”

  “What?”

&nbs
p; “The way you rolled your eyes. You think this is some kind of scam, don’t you?”

  “Mom,” Sable kept her voice calm and reasonable. “It doesn’t make sense for a stranger to do this out of the goodness of his heart. He’s too smooth to ask for anything yet, but wait until you’re halfway across the Pacific. He’s after something.”

  “You think you’re so smart. For your information, Wade isn’t going to Hawaii. In fact, he had only stopped to check the messages on his phone. He’s thirty-one years old, single, and owns a very successful construction business.”

  Sable had to admit, she might have jumped to the wrong conclusion. But for her own piece of mind, she planned on doing a thorough background check on Mr. Wade Fairfax.

  “He sounds like a peach, Mom.”

  “Did I mention that he doesn’t have a girlfriend?”

  “No. Why would you?”

  “I told him all about you and he seemed very interested. I’m so glad you wore a dress. Your legs are your best feature. I’m certain that Wade noticed.”

  This time, Sable couldn’t keep her groan from bubbling out.

  “What?” Iris demanded.

  “Let’s sit down, Mom.”

  “I don’t need to sit.”

  “I do. My feet are killing me.”

  Reluctantly, Iris let herself be led to a row of seats that were out of the path of impatient travelers.

  “I know what you’re going to say.” Iris took a compact out of her purse. Her makeup was perfect but she powdered her nose just to be safe. “You aren’t interested in Wade because you already have a boyfriend.”

  Actually, it hadn’t occurred to Sable to mention Colt. She had planned to tell Iris that she wasn’t interested in Wade, or anyone else—period. But since her mother believed the relationship was real, she used it as a convenient buffer.

  “Colt does exist, Mom.” No lie there.

  “But for how long?”

  “He’s healthy and has excellent genes. Hopefully, he’ll be around for another sixty-plus years.”

  “You know what I meant. He’s a movie star, Sable. How much longer do you think you can hold his interest?”

  About two weeks.

  “This isn’t about Colt, Mom. Picking up strange men at the airport is bad enough. Picking one up for me? Unacceptable.”

  “Time is no woman’s friend, Sable.”

  “I don’t know. Have you seen Sophia Loren? I would do her in a heartbeat.” The joke missed its mark by a mile. The only thing her mother heard was the possible admission that Sable’s interest lay with women—not men.

  “Is that why you left the Army?” Looking around surreptitiously, Iris lowered her voice. “Don’t ask, don’t tell?”

  “They repealed that piece of crap policy before I resigned.” It was obvious that answer hadn’t satisfied her mother. Sable sighed and gave in. “No. I am not gay. Or bisexual. I like men. Straight up.” Sometimes with a twist. If she were playing with Colt.

  “I don’t know why you’re smiling. No matter how much fun you provide to Colton Landis, it’s temporary. You can’t afford to throw away a perfectly good man.”

  “You don’t know that Wade Fairfax is a good man. Maybe he kicks his dog. Or cheats on his income tax. Do you know how much prison time you can do for that? That’s how they got Al Capone.”

  Iris sent her a blank stare.

  “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  To be honest, neither did Sable. She was rambling in the off chance her mother would get the hint and drop the subject.

  “Oh. There’s Wade.” Iris rummaged through her purse, triumphantly pulling out a tube of lipstick. “Here. A bright color draws a man’s attention to your mouth.”

  Dumbfounded, Sable couldn’t think of a single comeback. Then to her, and Iris’ surprise, she burst out laughing.

  “Mom.”

  Iris raised her chin. “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  Iris blinked once, then twice, before smiling.

  “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  IT WAS AMAZING what the passing of a few hours could do for a person’s outlook.

  When Sable left for the airport, her emotions had been all over the place. She didn’t know what she would find or how she would deal with it. Now, her mother was safely on a plane to Hawaii and for the first time, Sable felt hope for the future of their relationship.

  Not that she expected miracles. Iris would never change. Nor would Sable. But she saw her mother through clearer eyes. Vain. Self-centered. Clueless. Also warm, caring, and loving. No. Neither of them had changed. It was all a matter of perspective. That’s what was different.”

  The elevator dinged. As the doors opened, Sable took a moment to lean against the wall and remove her shoes, then padded into the loft. She sighed with pleasure when her soles hit the cool hardwood floor.

  It was half past four. Sable listened, not expecting to hear anything. Colt had to be on the set at seven o’clock. She hadn’t called to tell him she was on her way. She hoped he did the smart thing and went to bed. Something she planned on doing. With luck, she could get an hour of sleep. It wasn’t the ideal amount, but she had survived on less.

  Sable made a quick detour to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. She was at the bedroom door when she heard the faint sound of the running shower. Change of plans. The hell with sleep when she could rub up against a wet and warm Colt.

  She reached for the zipper on the side of her dress. It was halfway down when a voice from the bed froze her in her tracks.

  “Hello.”

  The light was low, but there was no mistaking the identity of the naked bleached blonde in Colt’s bed.

  “Candice?”

  “This is awkward.” The actress made a show of adjusting the sheet over her breasts. “Colt said you were supposed to call before showing up. A bit of advice. Always follow the script. Bad things happen when you try to improvise.”

  Sable looked at Candice. Then at the open bathroom door. Colt’s voice rang out as he sang a snappy rendition of Crocodile Rock.

  “Interesting choice of tunes,” Sable mumbled.

  “He sounds happy, doesn’t he?” Candice purred the words. “Good sex will do that to a man.”

  With a sigh, Sable rubbed her eyes. Rumpled sheets. A naked woman. A singing man in the shower. It all added up to one obvious conclusion—if this were a bad romance novel. She was tired. But she wasn’t a fool.

  “Honestly, Candice? This is straight out of bad plot ploy one oh one.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Candice made a poor attempt at turning her nose up in a dismissive manner.

  “What did you hope would happen?” Sable set her purse, and her gun, out of reach. It was tempting. But the pleasure of scaring the crap out of the blonde wasn’t worth the trouble it would cause.

  “Was I supposed to recoil in horror? Run into the early morning with tears streaming down my face—never to be heard from again?”

  “What is wrong with you?” Candice pounded the bed with her fist. Splotches of angry red burst onto her cheeks. “I had sex with Colt. Don’t you have any pride?”

  “Don’t you?”

  Colt stood in the bathroom door, a towel wrapped around his waist.

  “Colt,” Candice gasped. “I—”

  “Save your breath.” He grabbed Candice’s clothes from the chair and tossed them at her. “Get dressed. This was low, Candice. Even for you.”

  “Why don’t you want me?” she wailed, tears welling artfully in her eyes. In Sable’s opinion, it was the best performance of her career. Then she ruined it by going one step too far. “I love you.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  “Bitch.” Candice launched herself from the bed, her claws drawn and aimed at Sable.

  Colt rushed forward, putting himself between the women. He held Candice back, his hand on her forehead.

  “Let her go,” Sab
le said calmly. She watched with growing amusement while Candice tried to push past Colt, her arms flailing like a cartoon character. “I won’t hurt her—much.”

  “I would love to oblige. But I still need her in one piece. If she’s crazy enough to hang around after the movie wraps, she’s all yours.”

  “Fine.” Sable ambled toward the bathroom. “Five minutes. If you haven’t put the trash out by then, it will be my pleasure to kick her to the curb.”

  Shutting the door with a firm snap, Sable could still hear Candice’s pleading wails. Which was fine—great. She didn’t want to drown it out. It lent a certain symmetry to her evening. On one hand, she had dealt nicely with her ditzy mother. On the other, Colt’s loony tunes co-star.

  Another screech from Candice put a smile on Sable’s face. Humming, she slipped out of her dress and into the shower.

  COLT WASN’T WAITING for her when she exited the bathroom. Not that Sable was surprised. She gave Candice a five-minute deadline, but because she felt all loose and relaxed from the multiple jets of hot water, Sable didn’t push the issue.

  Ten minutes had passed. Whistling, slightly off tune, Sable stripped the bed of the actress-contaminated sheets. A quick spin through her brain told her the housekeeper Colt had hired would be here later today. She would send the laundry out and make the bed.

  Tightening the belt on her robe, Sable walked into the living room. Colt wasn’t in the kitchen or on the sofa. Sable felt a slight spike in her temper. He wouldn’t have been crazy enough to drive Candice home?

  “Colt?”

  “Over here.”

  He was standing out of sight, just off the kitchen, staring out the window and dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms—nothing else. His hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Want some? I just made a fresh pot.”

  “Mind if I take a sip of yours?”

  Sable took the cup, sighing with pleasure as the strong flavor hit her taste buds.

  “You can’t be too angry if you’re willing to share my germs.”

  “That ship sailed long ago. If you’ve got it, I’ve got it.”

  “And vice versa.” Colt shook his head when she tried to hand back the cup. “I have a good reason why Candice was here.”

 

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