Always With You

by Layla Hagen

  Always With You

  Hailey & Reid ~ The Connor Family

  Layla Hagen

  Dear Reader,

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  ***

  Always With You

  Copyright © 2019 Layla Hagen

  Cover: Uplifting Designs

  Cover Photography: Nicole Ashley

  Always With You

  Copyright ©2019 Layla Hagen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  First Epilogue

  Second Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Reid

  “Absolutely not,” I exclaimed.

  “Reid, don’t be difficult.”

  “We have capable PR people in house. Have them handle everything. I’m not trusting a stranger with my personal life.” The office walls suddenly seemed to close upon me.

  Deborah, my assistant, sighed. “Our PR department deals with corporate issues. That’s their area of expertise. They know squat about keeping your name out of the tabloids, which is why you’re fodder for them.”

  I rose from behind my desk. “I don’t care. They’ll get bored with me eventually.” My ex was the star. I was just the idiot who’d made the mistake of dating her.

  “It’s making everyone nervous.”

  “So what?”

  “So, I have already set up a meeting with a PR professional specializing in... Hollywood scandals.”

  “Cancel it.”

  “Too late. She’s already on her way.”

  I cocked a brow. “You set this up behind my back?”

  “No. Just... forgot to inform you.”

  I bit back a sardonic reply. I had too much respect and affection for Deborah to snap at her. I knew she had my best interests at heart. She’d been Dad’s assistant once and had been an invaluable mentor after I took over the hotel business. She’d always had my back. Until now, it seemed.

  “Her name is Hailey Connor. She’s your next appointment. Play nice,” Deborah said.

  “I don’t do that.”

  “Try.”

  “Deborah, just cancel the damn thing.”

  “Too late. Oh, Bianca called. Asked me to remind you about her recital.”

  “I’ll be there.” The corners of my mouth twitched. If I missed my little sister’s recital, I wouldn’t put it past her to burst into my office and demand an explanation.

  “Okay. I’ll leave you to it.”

  I hadn’t kept up with everything Marion said to the tabloids. How bad was it, that Deborah had decided to take matters into her own hands?

  Had my family gotten wind of it? Bianca read gossip sites. I couldn’t be sure Mom and Dad didn’t as well. I ran a frustrated hand through my hair, dropping back in my chair. My family had trusted me to make the right decisions ever since Dad’s stroke ten years ago, and I had come through. In the beginning, we’d hoped he’d recover, but when it became clear that wasn’t going to happen, I was in a race against time to learn how to run the business before the sharks took it away from my family.

  While I was growing up as the son of the owners of one of Hollywood’s grandest and most prestigious hotels, Dad had taken care of keeping us out of the limelight. As an adult, I’d always been fiercely private about my personal life, which was why I absolutely didn’t want a stranger handling it. My own PR department was a different matter. I’d approved every hire.

  I didn’t want someone who ran with the Hollywood crowd anywhere near. That was what got me into this mess in the first place.

  To this day, I had no idea how I had been so blind when it came to my ex. How I’d fallen for Marion’s spiel, thinking she was actually in love with me. And now, any semblance of privacy had been blown to smithereens. Did I like it? Not one bit.

  Did I think I needed a Hollywood PR expert? Hell, no.

  ***

  Hailey

  I smoothed my hair and blouse as I glanced at the Davenport Business Hotel. It was a modern structure, sprawling on ten floors, with balconies up until the fifth. Reid Davenport owned two hotels in Los Angeles. The original one smack-dab in Hollywood, and this newer one. His offices were here.

  I was fifteen minutes early and used the time to call my brother Landon. I’d offered to babysit my niece tonight while he took his wife out to dinner.

  “Hey, brother,” I said when he picked up.

  “Hailey! I was just about to call you.”

  “Already having second thoughts about tonight?” I teased.

  He chuckled. “Depends. What are your plans?”

  “Just... shopping.”

  “Oh, I see. You’re going to make her a shopaholic, aren’t you?”

  Damn. Landon was good at hearing guilt in my voice. I couldn’t forget that. I had five siblings, and we were all pretty good at picking up each other’s tells, but Landon was in a league of his own.

  “Yup. Not going to make your life as a dad easy, not gonna lie about that. When should I pick her up?”

  “Six?”

  “Deal.”

  “What exactly do you plan to buy for her?”

  “Don’t ask questions you’re not prepared to hear the answers to. And I’ve got to go. I’m meeting a potential client.”

  “Or you’re just trying to avoid my questions.”

  I grinned. “I will neither confirm nor deny that.”

  After hanging up, I smoothed my dark brown hair again. It nearly brushed my elbows, and the strong wind had tangled it up. When another gust blew dirt in my eyes, making them water, I decided that waiting out here wasn’t the best idea.

  The interior of the hotel was decorated in shades of earthy brown and dark green, a welcome change from the gray façade. I headed straight to the ladies’ room to check my makeup.

  I hadn’t smeared my mascara or the light gold eyeshadow that brought out my brown eyes nicely. Good. I was ready to go.

  When my boss had asked me if my schedule allowed me to take on another client, I’d honestly wanted to say it was packed, but instead I went with, “I can make room for one more project.”

  Half an hour later, after reviewing some of the most recent tabloid fodder, I’d feared I might have said yes too quickly. As a general rule of thumb, I liked to push myself, but this might be more than I could chew. Reid Davenport, thirty-two-year-old hotel mogul, had led a
quiet life before his ex splashed his name everywhere. Now, every joint in Hollywood knew who he was.

  Mind you, they knew who he wasn’t too. Even just rifling through what was true and what was not would be a challenge. Since joining Cameron’s PR agency, I’d worked on a string of projects I’d wrapped up beautifully. I had to remind myself that some of those had looked hopeless in the beginning, just like this one. No contract had been signed yet, but I didn’t want to disappoint Cameron. He was in many ways a father figure. I just had to roll up the proverbial sleeves and deal with this one step at a time.

  My main goal today was to see if Reid Davenport was a good fit for the agency.

  When there were just five minutes left, I introduced myself to the receptionist. She handed me a visitor badge, informing me I was expected on the seventh floor.

  I rode the elevator with a bunch of men and women in suits, and three others stepped out with me.

  A woman with graying hair met me.

  “Ms. Connor, I’m Deborah. So glad to meet you.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Mr. Davenport is waiting for you. Follow me.”

  She led me through a long corridor lined with doors. We stopped at the very end.

  “Here it is.”

  She knocked briefly, and then we both walked in.

  “Reid, Ms. Connor is here.”

  After Deborah left, Reid gave me a curt nod, pointing to the leather couch next to his desk. “Ms. Connor.”

  He stood by the large window behind his desk. Despite the attention he was getting, paparazzi hadn’t hounded him, so the only pictures available were the ones from events he’d attended with his ex, and the headshot from his website. Reid Davenport resembled one of those old-Hollywood stars. I could easily picture him as the leading man in any movie... or maybe the villain, the type that becomes a fan favorite just because he makes dangerous seem so sexy and alluring. He had that tall, dark vibe going on that spelled danger.

  Reid watched me silently as I sat on the couch. He had dark brown, almost black hair and blue-gray eyes that were looking at me with so much frostiness I had the distinct impression he didn’t want me there. Over the years, I’d learned to pick up nonverbal signals. Unwilling clients were always a waste of time. I hoped my intuition was wrong. Reid sat on the leather chair adjacent to the couch. An uncomfortable silence stretched for a few seconds.

  “Mr. Davenport, your team has informed me of the general gist of the problem. I’ve done online research, but it’s best if you tell me in your own words how the situation came to be.”

  “What exactly do you want to know?”

  “Are any of the claims Marion is making true?”

  “I don’t read gossip sites, but as a general rule of thumb, you can’t take anything she says at face value.”

  Clearly, he was not going to make my job easy. I shifted a few inches forward on the couch before sliding right back. He radiated an energy that I felt even though he was a few feet away. It was intense. All-consuming.

  I’d hoped for more information. “When did things between you and Marion start going downhill?”

  “That’s irrelevant.”

  I flinched a little at his cutting tone, then rolled my shoulders. “It is relevant or I would not have asked. I’m trying to figure out what triggered everything.”

  “Triggered? You’re suggesting I did something to deserve all this?”

  “Not at all. As I said, I need the facts—”

  “Then ask someone on my team. I’m sure they’ll gladly fill you in. Ask Deborah. My PR team. Whoever is willing to talk. Whatever they know will be enough.”

  My intuition had been spot-on. “You don’t want me here.”

  “No. Someone on my team contacted you and set up this meeting without my approval. I suggest you handle this directly with them.”

  “I have handled multiple cases like this, Mr. Davenport. I know how to stop fires from escalating, and most importantly, how to stop them before they hurt innocents too.”

  Something flashed in his eyes—I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it wasn’t annoyance. It was the first time I felt something other than hostility from his side. If anything, he looked vulnerable.

  I dismissed the thought as overactive imagination as he rose from the armchair, headed toward his desk, and leaned that sculpted ass against it, crossing his arms over his chest. I maintained eye contact the entire time, refusing to allow my gaze to wander over those spectacularly toned arms or chest. I rose too.

  “Speak to Deborah, or anyone else. Don’t care who.”

  Asshole.

  “To make this as short and painless as possible, I need your full cooperation, and I need you to follow my instructions. Your natural inclination seems to be to go against both these things.”

  “You got a good read on me.” Those blue eyes turned cold again.

  He unhitched himself from the desk, walking toward me. He stopped right in front of me. Because I was wearing high-heeled stilettos, he was only a notch taller than me, but somehow I still felt like he dominated the space between us. The tension he emanated wired me up, making me aware of how close he was. I couldn’t avert my gaze without seeming a coward, yet maintaining eye contact seemed dangerous in a way I couldn’t describe, or frankly, understand. Everything about his appearance was groomed to perfection. The skin on his jaw and cheeks was smooth, the scent of his aftershave hinted that he’d shaved this morning. His gray suit jacket clad his shoulders and arms tightly.

  “I don’t work well with strangers, and I don’t do what others tell me,” he said in a low voice.

  “Then I’m afraid I’d be wasting your time, and you’d be wasting mine.”

  He bristled. I bet that no one had dared tell him that he was wasting their time. I waited for him to challenge me, because there was more where that came from, but he simply observed me intently. The muscles in my belly strummed tight, and my breath caught. I was determined not to let on how much he affected me, though. I was mad at myself for finding Reid attractive despite his hostility. I was never one to be blindsided by looks. I’d always searched for something to build a connection on. There was nothing here, but I still felt the impulse to stay and help, even though he obviously didn’t want me here.

  “Well then, Ms. Connor, it will be smarter to go our separate ways. That way no one wastes anyone’s time. You can bill me for your time today.” He returned to his desk, leaning against the edge.

  “There will be no need.”

  He was really a piece of work, wasn’t he? This was pointless. Cameron would agree with me. Difficult clients were a time suck.

  I should have just left, but I was rooted to the spot.

  Maybe because Marion had come off as a manipulative gold digger in my research, or because the lack of any sort of public response usually correlated with the silent party having been either blindsided or still grieving.

  Of course, I could have read the situation completely wrong, and Reid could very well be the insensitive asshole Marion was describing. I was getting more partial to the asshole part by the minute, but I felt compelled to give it one last try. Instead of walking straight out the door, I headed toward him, taking a business card out of my purse and laying it on the desk at his side.

  “I’m very good at what I do, Mr. Davenport. This is my number in case you change your mind. But only bother to use it if you’re willing to give a little.”

  Chapter Two

  Reid

  “Aww, you know I only realize how much you really love me in moments like these,” Bianca said, trying on a wide belt, glancing at herself in the mirror.

  “And in the rest of the time, you don’t?”

  “Well, yes. But I know you hate shopping, and yet... here you are. Lately, I think I’m the only person who can lure you out of your lair.”

  “Bee-Bee,” I warned, even though she wasn’t wrong.

  She pointed a finger at me. “Told you not to call me that. What would m
y friends say if they heard you?”

  “That your older brother is in your corner, and they’d better not mess with you.”

  “Uh-huh. That will earn me so many friends. Oooh, look. I want to try this on.”

  I sighed. I’d set myself up for this, so I had no one to blame but myself. I’d brought Bianca shopping on Rodeo Drive. It was her favorite activity. I liked to make her happy. “Let’s go to the evening gown department. I promise this is the last store.” She batted her eyelashes, giving me a pleading look.

  “You said that three stores ago.”

  “Well, it got us moving, didn’t it?”

  I nodded and she darted to the dresses section, heading straight to the sales associate. At seventeen, Bianca was just as full of energy as she’d been when she was a toddler. There was a big age gap between us, because Bianca had been a miracle child for my parents. I was fifteen years older, and from the moment they brought her home, she’d become my favorite person. It was hard to grasp the fact that my little sister was now trying on prom dresses. She was a young woman, though when she had her black hair pulled back in a messy ponytail like right now, she looked much younger.

  “Hmm... neither of these are good enough for prom. But I could use the black one for Mom’s parties. What do you think?”

  “Buy both if you want to.”

  She waggled her eyebrows, grinning.

  “How’s school?” I asked after I paid, and we walked out into the blinding afternoon sun.

  “Oh, you know. Same. Boring and never-ending.”

  The edge in her voice clued me in that something was awry.

  “Anyone giving you trouble?”

  She avoided my eye, taking an inordinate amount of time closing the clasp on her bag.

  “Tell me.”

  “I don’t want to upset you.”

  Fuck. What was going on?

  “Bianca, what’s wrong?”

  “Well... ever since Marion has been saying all that stuff about you, some idiots at my school have been attacking you to provoke me.”

  “Bianca, you know none of that is true, right?”

  I hadn’t even read everything Marion had said. After the first article showed up, I hadn’t wanted to read another word again. I’d figured since it was all lies, there would be no reason to read them.