by Suzie Nelson
Sasha turned back to Josh and Stacey and smiled. “Nah, it’s fine. Don’t you want to catch up? Stay for a beer, guys.”
“Oh, no,” said Josh stiffly, clearly realizing that he had lost the advantage he’d hoped to have by surprising Angie with his new girlfriend. “We have another thing to get to. It’s just like Angie said. We’re just picking something up.”
“Um,” said Stacey suddenly, finally working up the courage to speak. “Um, aren’t you, like, Sasha Pollock?”
“Drat,” said Sasha heartily, “I was hoping you wouldn’t realize. But yeah, that’s me.”
Stacey looked like she was about to faint. “Could I maybe…could I have your autograph?” she asked.
“Stacey,” Josh snapped at her. “Don’t be rude. Clearly, the man has better things to do. Don’t be so embarrassing.”
Stacey wilted and Angie glared at Josh, furious that he would talk to his girlfriend like that – especially in public. She couldn’t believe that she’d stayed with him for so long. “Don’t be ridiculous, Josh,” she snapped back. “She’s not being embarrassing, you are. Sasha doesn’t mind, do you, sweetheart?” she replied, stressing the pet name and grinning up at him. She was enjoying their little joke more and more.
Sasha shook his head. “Not even a little. Do you have something you’d like me to sign, Stacey?” he asked gently, smiling kindly at the other woman.
Stacey brightened immediately. “I think so,” she said, fishing around in her purse.
“Take your time,” said Angie as Josh fumed. “I’ll go get Josh’s stuff.”
Grinning evilly to herself, Angie fought back the urge to cackle and went to drag the box of Josh’s junk from where she’d buried it in the back of the closet.
By the time she returned, box in tow, Stacey had her autograph and Josh was ready to leave. “Finally,” he said, grabbing the box from Angie. She half expected him to go through everything to make sure she hadn’t lost anything, but he glanced angrily at Sasha and simply said, “I hope everything’s there.”
Angie shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. If you’d really been worried, you would have come to get all that junk a year ago.”
“Like I said,” Josh told her haughtily, “I’ve been busy. Not all of us spend our days lounging around unemployed.”
The unfairness of the jibe – when she’d supported him for nearly their entire relationship! – stung, and Angie drew herself up to retort. But Sasha got there first. “Don’t be rude,” he said, his voice no longer bright and welcoming. “Apologize,” he instructed Josh.
Josh looked up at Sasha, clearly caught between fear and the need to assert his dominance. But Sasha was nearly six foot six and pure muscle – Josh was too much of a coward to try anything with him.
“Sorry, Ange,” he managed to get out and, glaring at Sasha, he muttered something to Stacey and hurried her towards the door.
“Nice to meet you, Stacey,” Angie called over Sasha’s shoulder. “You should dump him,” she continued – but the door had already closed behind them.
Once more alone in her apartment with Sasha, Angie looked up at him and grinned, finally giving in to her laughter. “Oh my God,” she cackled, “you were amazing, Sasha! I can’t believe it! The look on his face! Thank you so much!” And, without thinking, she threw her arms around him.
Sasha hugged her back, laughing along with her. “Well, I’m not one of Hollywood’s leading men for nothing,” he joked. But his dark eyes hadn’t lost their ferocity.
Chapter 8
Sasha was quiet on the drive back to his home in Santa Monica and Angie respected his silence, looking out the window and enjoying the coastal scenery as he drove them back. “The ocean is magical out here, isn’t it?” was all she said. And he had to admit that the way the sunlight skittered across the tiny waves, sparkling like diamond chips, really was beautiful.
Unfortunately, he had other things to think about than the view. While Sasha had enjoyed playing the part of Angie’s new love interest and making her obnoxious ex look like an idiot, he had to admit that there had been more to his performance than just the desire to help Angie get revenge – his performance, if he was really honest with himself, had been more than just a performance. He had wanted Josh to try something. He’d wanted an excuse to hit the other man, to make him hurt the way he had clearly hurt Angie.
Sasha glanced across at the dark-haired journalist who was smiling out up at the hills, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. When she’d beamed up at him after Josh and his girlfriend had left, Sasha had felt himself tilt towards her, his body seeking hers. He’d wanted to kiss her. He’d wanted to kiss her more than he’d wanted to do just about anything in his life. Sasha sighed. Sure, he’d been hoping to seduce her for a few nights of fun, but he certainly hadn’t been planning on falling in love. He was in trouble.
“We haven’t practiced your Russian in a while,” he said suddenly, wanting to distract himself from his own thoughts.
Angie turned away from the scenery and smiled at him. “No, we haven’t! Are you going to quiz me? I’m ready. Bring it on.”
Sasha laughed. “How do you say ‘hello’?”
“Pfff,” Angie spluttered. “What is this, amateur hour? Zdrastvuyte. Menyazavut Angie. A kak vas zavut?” she rattled off the introduction he’d taught her the week before with near-perfect pronunciation.
Sasha raised his eyebrows. “Menyazavut Sasha,” he said, replying to her question. “That was great, Angie. Have you been practicing?”
Angie blushed. “Maybe a little,” she admitted. “I dunno, it’s just really fun to speak. I like the way it sounds. And—” her blush grew stronger, “you just seem so happy when you’re speaking Russian to me.”
Sasha blinked. He had been enjoying speaking Russian again – even if it was just to teach her basic sentences – but he hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious about it. “I am happy speaking it with you,” he said, smiling at Angie. “But I’m usually happy when you’re around.”
There was silence in the car after that and Sasha cursed himself for getting carried away. But there was something about this woman that just broke down all his defenses. He couldn’t keep his cool around her the way he wanted to.
Angie’s cheeks grew – if it was possible – even redder. “I’m glad,” she said. “You’ve…this…I’m glad,” she repeated and then quickly went back to looking out the window.
“Do you really think you’re getting off the hook that easily?” Sasha asked. “We still haven’t practiced the verb ‘to be’. Do you remember what it is?”
Angie turned back to him, grinning. “Of course!” she said. “Oooh, are we learning the past tense today?”
Sasha looked at her out of the corner of his eye and smirked, “Maybe if you do very, very well with the present tense.”
“You’re on!” said Angie and she began to recite the verb ‘to be’ in Russian, Sasha gently correcting her pronunciation every few words.
In what seemed like no time at all they were back at the house, where Tansy and Bruce were waiting with the luggage already packed in the trunk of a sleek black BMW.
“Finally,” said Tansy as they got out of the car. “I thought maybe you two had gotten lost. Bob is waiting for us at the airport, come on.”
“Who’s Bob?” Angie asked as she got into the back seat of the BMW.
“He’s my pilot,” said Sasha as he got in next to her. “Taking public flights is always a nightmare so I bought a small plane and hired Bob. He’s great. Spends most of his days off hunting moose in Montana. Very quiet. Keeps to himself.”
“Ah, the strong, silent type, is he?” Angie asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “I can see why you’d like him then.”
Tansy laughed from where she was riding up front with Bruce. “She’s got your number, Sasha,” she said twisting around to smile at the movie star.
Sasha raised a quelling eyebrow at Tansy, but she wasn’t frightened. She knew Sasha
well enough not to be afraid of his eyebrows.
“Don’t sulk, Sasha,” she continued. “It’s good for you to have someone who’ll cross swords with you. Keeps you limber. Not to mention it’ll take your ego down a notch.”
Sasha was not pleased with this conversation and turned to look out the window.
Tansy rolled her eyes and focused on Angie. “I’ve actually got a favor to ask you,” she said, biting her lower lip.
“Shoot,” said Angie, smiling.
“You remember that blonde that was with you and Odette in Portland. Petite, sarcastic, and - I’m hoping - very gay?”
“Claire,” said Angie promptly, recognizing the description of her friend immediately.
“Yes, Claire,” said Tansy. “Um, I was just wondering…do you…” The personal assistant cleared her throat, “Would you happen to have her number handy?”
Angie blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh my God, yes!” she squealed, clapping her hands together before grabbing her purse. “Wait,” she said holding her phone in one hand and pointing it threateningly at Tansy. “Claire is my best friend in the entire world. I want you to know that.”
Tansy nodded silently.
“So if you don’t treat her right,” Angie continued, “I will hunt you down and kick you in the shins.”
Sasha snorted with laughter. “I was expecting something a little more violent,” he said, turning back to the women.
Angie scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Getting kicked in the shins is excruciating. Besides,” she said, flipping her mane of hair over one shoulder and showing him her long, graceful neck, “we can’t all be action heroes. I’ve got to work with what I have.”
“You hurt my assistant and it’s over between us, Wilde,” Sasha teased her.
“Aw, he really cares,” said Tansy as she pressed a hand to her heart. Then she smiled at Angie. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I have every intention of treating her very well.”
Angie grinned as she texted Tansy Claire’s number. “Good. She needs it. Or, more accurately, I need it. She’s had, like, the worst string of bimbo girlfriends lately. I can’t stand any of them. I’d much rather she start bringing you to dinner.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” said Tansy, turning back around to face the front.
Sasha watched Angie and his assistant tease each other and smiled. It was nice to see everyone getting along. Tansy and Bruce were the closest things he had to friends or family and, in his own quiet way, he really cared for them. And Angie…well, that was a whole other kettle of fish.
***
The Arizona hills were awash in violets and rust reds as Bob landed their plane in the small airstrip behind Sasha’s enormous ranch. The sun was just beginning to set and, as night approached, there was a nip in the air that had been missing in sweaty Los Angeles. The first few stars twinkled overhead in the dusky lilac sky.
“Oh my God,” said Angie as she descended from the plane, “this place is beautiful. I can’t believe it!” She craned her neck to take in the immense expanse of sky and dessert. “Wow,” she whispered.
Sasha smiled. He loved how she wasn’t afraid to be impressed by things. Her child-like wonder delighted him and made him appreciate things he sometimes took for granted. “Tomorrow I’ll take you out for a ride into the hills. Just wait.”
Angie’s eyebrows shot up, “Really? Wait, a ride, like, on horses?”
He nodded. “Like on horses,” he repeated.
Angie bit her lip. “I…I don’t know how to ride,” she admitted. “It’s not exactly something they teach you growing up in L.A.”
Sasha laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s not that hard. Tansy had never even seen a horse when she came to work for me and now she rides beautifully. I’ll teach you, don’t worry.”
“He’s a surprisingly good teacher for someone who’s so aloof and impatient,” Tansy added as she passed them, her suitcase rolling behind her.
“That would be amazing,” said Angie. “I’ve always wanted to learn to ride a horse. I guess it’s every little girl’s dream, isn’t it?”
“Not mine,” Tansy said from ahead of them. “I wanted to ride dinosaurs. Hurry up, you two. Before it gets dark!”
Sasha and Angie smiled at each other and quickly followed the assistant into the enormous adobe house.
Chapter 9
Sasha’s ranch was like something right out of a magazine. Angie wandered the halls, running her fingers along the cool, white-washed adobe walls, herslippered feet sliding along the polished wood floors. Here and there beautifully woven carpets and blankets hung on the walls in various shades of red, green, blue, black and cream. Above her, the ceiling was made of wood as well, braced on enormous rafters that had been cut from whole trees. From every window the dessert and the sky stretched on to infinity, only broken by the odd sprawling cactus or the low, purplish line of the hills rising on the east. It was very different from his house in Santa Monica, which had been showy and ornate. Here everything was simple and clean. She loved it.
In the kitchen, Sasha was reading the newspaper while eating eggs on toast and drinking black coffee that she could smell from the door. It made her stomach rumble.
The superstar glanced up from his paper and smiled. “There’s coffee in the pot if you want it. Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. But eat something hardy. We’re going for a long ride today.”
“I can’t wait,” said Angie, deciding to copy Sasha and fry some eggs. “This place is amazing, Sasha. Did you design it?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but it’s based on the architecture of the region. I like how simple it is. Just nice clean lines.”
“Me too,” she said. “And I could look at that view forever.”
They finished breakfast without seeing Bruce or Tansy and packed a bag with snacks and lots of water, which Sasha swung onto his back before Angie could even offer to take it. Not that Angie was complaining. It was hot outside and she knew a backpack would just make her sweat. Once she’d swapped her slippers for socks and boots, Sasha led her out to the stables to choose a mount.
“One of the mares would probably be your best bet,” he told her, petting each horse as he went by. “They’re the calmest.”
He stopped in front of a tall, chestnut mare with a black mane. “How about Julia?” he asked. “You two would suit each other, I think.”
Angie bit her lip and approached the horse, letting her smell her hand as Sasha had taught her. The mare whinnied and nuzzled her nose into Angie’s palm, tickling her skin. Angie giggled. “Yeah, I like her,” she said.
“Excellent,” said Sasha. “Let’s get her saddled up.”
At first, Angie was hesitant: the mare, calm or not, was really tall. It was a long way to fall if Angie lost her balance.
Sasha watched her eyeing the horse with evident misgivings and chuckled. “You won’t fall, I promise. And, even if you do somehow manage to topple over, I’ll catch you.”
“Pinkie swear?” Angie asked, looking up at him seriously.
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Sasha responded, taking the oath as seriously as he had when he was a child.
Angie made a face. “Okay,” she said, “here goes nothing.” She reached up, grabbing hold of the saddle and tried to heave herself up. Not having the upper body of a gymnast, she was soon back on solid ground and slightly out of breath.
Sasha laughed again. “Okay, first of all, you’re on the wrong side. You want to be on the left. Put your left foot in the stirrup, that’s the hanging loop bit, and lift your right leg up and over. I can give you a boost if you want.”
Angie shook her head, slightly embarrassed. “Let me try first and then if I just end up looking like an idiot again, you can give me a boost.”
“Agreed,” said Sasha as he led her around the front of the patient horse. “Try again from this side.”
Angie took hold of the saddle again for support and slid her left foot into the stirrup as he’d told h
er. Standing up, she flung her right leg over the mare’s broad back and, much to her surprise, found herself astride the horse.
“Oh my gosh!” she said, sounding just like her mother as she clutched the saddle so tightly her knuckles went white. “Oh God, I’m on a horse. This is very high up!”
Sasha laughed. “You’re doing great,” he said. “Now, let go of the saddle and take hold of the reins. And sit up. This’ll be easier with good posture.”
Hesitantly, Angie let go of the leather saddle and took the reins in both hands.
