by Maggie Marr
LUXE GLAMOUR
Maggie Marr
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
About This Series
Also by Maggie Marr
About the Author
Acknowledgements
An Excerpt from One Night for Love
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The Glamour Series
Hard Glamour | Broken Glamour | Fast Glamour
Easy Glamour | Luxe Glamour
This book is dedicated to the people who spend their time
saving our four-legged friends. Thank you, for all you do.
A portion of the proceeds of Luxe Glamour will be donated to Best Friends Animal Society and Westside German Shepherd Rescue.
Save Them All
Chapter 1
Trick
I stood on the front porch of my small bungalow and looked out at Pawtown. Across the compound volunteers arrived for work. They walked in and out of the administration building signing in and checking their assignments for the day. Dog barks greeted another day. I sipped my coffee. In the east the sun rose. I was lucky. God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
For five years, I’d greeted each day with the same prayer. Then I saved four-legged friends in an attempt to save myself. I was proud of the work we did here. I’d never felt better about myself. I was still in recovery but being here, close to nature, and doing this work—work that mattered—made all the difference. I glanced at my watch. Enough coffee. Enough solitude. My day needed to start.
Ten minutes later, I turned the corner toward the red-collar kennel. Late last night we’d received three new dogs. They were littermates who’d been bred to fight, and who’d been regularly beaten by their former owners. These were the unsaveable dogs. The kind of dogs most no-kill shelters didn’t even attempt to rehabilitate. If they were people, they’d be in prison and sitting on death row. But at Pawtown even the most deadly offenders got a second chance.
Two giant red stop signs were bolted on both sides of the wall. They served as a warning to Pawtown volunteers who were not allowed into this area. This was a place only for the Pawtown employees with specialized training.
The dogs in here were killing machines, especially the three dogs that had just arrived. We always tried to get dogs out of the red-collar kennel within the first three weeks, but I wasn’t certain that these three would ever be rehabilitated enough to enter Pawtown’s general population.
I swiped my key card through a strip and unlocked the large metal door—another safety measure for the benefit of our volunteers in case the giant red signs weren’t enough. Yeah, safety was kind of my thing. After years of living on the edge and taking unimaginable risks in my personal life, I now saw life through a different lens.
To get into the kennel itself I had to pass through one more locked metal door. Again, I slid in my key card, turned the doorknob, gave a hard push, and walked inside. The quiet was immediately filled with harsh threatening growls and aggressive barks. The sounds bounced off the concrete walls, creating a cacophony of noise. The cement hallway floor was wet and I realized that Simone must have already cleaned and hosed down the area.
I walked down the hall past the individual kennels. Dogs housed in the red-collar building were not allowed to be together. It was too dangerous. The whole damn situation with red-collar dogs was sad. Dogs were pack animals. They felt best when they were in a group, and these dogs had been so severely beaten and abused that they couldn’t be with other dogs. Some couldn’t be with humans. Many of these dogs really only had themselves. Alone in a world that had shown them only cruelty and abuse.
I stopped at the end of the hall. Here were the final three kennels with our latest arrivals each in their own space: Bull, Domingo, and Rose. According to their owner, who was now looking at prison time, they were littermates that had been brought up together through the fight system. Beaten, whipped, and starved, these animals had led unspeakable lives in their years on this earth.
Domingo paced the front of his cage, in tandem with Bull. They actually eyed each other. Dogs were smart. Was it possible these three were aware of their shared lineage? There seemed to be a connection between these two. I walked past Domingo’s kennel to Rose. She was on the end. She was a gorgeous girl with a black coat and big brown eyes, but you’d be a fool to let her beauty charm you. She was a bitch of a beast. Rose quietly sat behind the bars. I stopped just in front of her kennel. A low growl vibrated in her throat. She didn’t move. She didn’t pace. She sat very, very still. Her nose twitched.
I bent down and my fingertips brushed the cold, damp concrete. We were eye to eye. The growling stopped. Her body tensed. Her gaze locked with mine. She lunged, full on, teeth bared, drool flying, and she latched onto the metal cage with all of her might. Without the bars between us, Rose would have torn off my face and probably severed my jugular. She would have killed me. But that was her job. Killing was what Rose had been trained to do. From the time she was born until the time animal control found her late last night she had been part of a dog-fighting pit outside Barstow. Rose had just killed her thirtieth dog in her infamous career.
Rose was the reason the officers had found the dog-fighting ring. She’d become too famous, too well known, too well followed. Her record had pulled in more and more spectators. She was a stone-cold killer. Her MO was to enter the ring quietly. She didn’t growl or circle or lunge. She hunkered down, ready to make her move. Then, suddenly, she would dart fast and fierce and tear out her opponent’s throat. The whole fight would often last less than a minute. Her opponents rarely survived.
“Girl, you seem pretty mad.” I’d be pissed too if I’d been beaten my whole life, and if I had to fight for my life and my food. If I were her I wouldn’t trust a human either.
She pulled her jaw from the steel bars. Her gaze latched onto me. If not for these bars, that jaw, with 235 pounds of pressure, would be locked onto my neck right now.
“You gonna let Luis work with you today? Or are we going to need to wear you down a bit?” By wearing down I meant running. A lot of running.
Even with her teeth bared and her growls, I’d take this viciousness over humanity any day. With dogs everything was clear. You knew where you stood and why. There was no subterfuge. I stood up. The dogs in the kennel began to bark again. I turned and saw Luis headed toward me a broad smile on his face.
“Hear we got some new killers to reform.” Luis lived to work with these hard-core dogs. He was magic. He stopped in front of Rose’s kennel.
“Females are the toughest.” He stood with his hands on his hips. “Once they turn it’s hard to get them to trust again.”
I didn’t want to compare women with a dog, but that sounded oh-so-familiar. Lucky for me, after a long rocky history with the fairer sex, I now chose to spend my time and money on
dogs, not women.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I always kept the ringer turned off when I visited the kennels. The sound could send these red-collars into a frenzy. I pulled out my phone and glanced at the caller ID. “Gotta take this one.” I hustled down the corridor and through the two safety doors into the bright light outside. The desert sun warmed my arms.
“Hey, Choo, what’s up?”
“You out there in the dirt playing with the pups?”
A grin split my face. Choo and his older brother Dillon were big supporters of Pawtown. I’d recently asked Choo to handle publicity for our non-profit no-kill shelter and he had jumped at the chance.
“How are things going at Dillon’s house? Are the dogs behaving?”
“Kong rules that household. Even with the new baby. You’d think that Chihuahua was meant to be the baby’s bodyguard. Kong won’t let anyone but Dillon and Lane near the little guy.”
“What about Bernie?”
“He’s a pussycat. The big boy lopes along beside Lane and Dillon, never letting them out of his sight. He even nudges them when he hears the baby wake up from his nap.”
“Sounds as if they’ve got a good pack at that house.”
“Don’t I know it? And it’s all because of you, you know? Jackson and I were talking about it, and we’re about ready to adopt some dogs of our own.”
“Come on out any time. We’ve always got pups looking for their forever home.”
“Maybe you could bring a couple in to Los Angeles? End of this week?”
My shoulder muscles tightened. Los Angeles was only two hours away and yet I avoided the place as much as I could. When I was there I felt as if I were on an entirely different planet.
“I’d want you to attend the Left Coast 30th Anniversary Concert.”
“Uh-huh.” I kicked my boot through the gravel and gazed out over my fifty acres of land dedicated to every kind of critter except humans.
“Trick, they’ve been big supporters of Pawtown. This is the type of event we talked about you doing when I agreed to do PR for you.”
“Holding that one over my head, are you?”
“They’d like to underwrite a Pawtown event the day after their anniversary party. They want to set up a public adoption. Of course, many of the Left Coast musicians want to adopt, but I’ve also contacted a long list of actors who also love Pawtown and what you’re doing out there. I’ve gotten a lot of yeses.”
Damn. How could I say no to an event that might help some of our dogs find a permanent home? Plus the attention at an event like this would be great for Pawtown.
“Trick, I know you like a private life, and I understand that you prefer to live that private life at Pawtown. But sometimes, man, you’re going to have to use that celebrity of yours and be The Trick Williams.”
My chest tightened. I had a past I’d never escape.
“Pawtown needs this,” Choo continued. “You guys do great work and the more money you raise, the more animals you can save. And don’t forget, the public still loves you.”
“The public doesn’t know me.”
“They miss you, no matter what you say or think. Besides, you do these two events and you’ll find homes for a lot of your animals. Isn’t that what you want?”
I filled my lungs with air and scanned the blue sky. Choo was right. He was always right.
“I don’t want to rub it in, but this was part of our deal, right?” Choo asked. “You come out of hiding for a few of these high-profile events and I help you with Pawtown.”
“I’m not hiding.” Even I knew I sounded defensive.
“Mmmhmm. Let’s just say you have your story and I have mine.”
His singsong voice let me know that he wasn’t buying my story. Hiding was for cowards, and I wasn’t hiding. I just didn’t want to go to L.A., and I sure didn’t want to be around people. I preferred the dogs at Pawtown to most humans. Choosing to remain at Pawtown wasn’t hiding; it was just admitting that I knew who I was. Wasn’t it?
“I already talked to Angie.”
Of course he’d spoken to my sister. He wasn’t a PR guru for nothing. Now I had no choice but to say yes.
“When is the event?”
“The party is on Friday night, and the adoption event is on Saturday. California casual.”
“Fine.” Damn if I didn’t love these animals and what Angie and I had built out here. Changing the subject, I asked Choo, “Do you and Jackson want a large or a small dog?”
“I like the little dogs like Kong. They’ve got lots of personality in a tiny package, but Jackson? He likes them big. He wants a dog that he can run with every day because, you know, I’m not getting my ass up and out the door for exercise.” Choo said the words and I pictured his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline for emphasis. “So bring us a cutie pie and an athlete.”
A laugh burst from my lips. I couldn’t help it.
Choo said, “I know, baby, I know this sounds exactly like what I’ve got going on at home. Go figure. Listen, when you come out for the weekend, you can stay with us, or with Dillon and Lane. Angie, too. We’d love to have you. Just let us know what you decide.”
“Thanks, Choo, I’ll see you Friday.”
“Yes, Trick, you certainly will.”
Sophia
“Daddy, thank you for sending the car.” I leaned back onto the plush black leather seat of his Bentley and pressed my phone closer to my ear. The driver was taking me from my cover shoot to my home. Such a relief not to have to fight my way through Los Angeles traffic after a long day on set.
“Doll, the way you’re working right now, you need to find luxury anywhere you can.”
A small smile spilled across my face as I listened to Daddy’s words about how hard I worked and how he knew how much my success meant to me. I wanted Daddy to be proud of me. I wanted him to know that I deserved the Legend name. Now that the world knew about me and my siblings, and our relationship to the great Steve Legend, I would never, ever, let him down. Even if my childhood had been one big letdown after another since Daddy hadn’t wanted to claim us. At least not publicly.
“How’d the shoot go in Santa Monica?”
“The Pacific is freezing cold.” I wrapped my arms around me as I remembered the sand in my bathing suit and the water turning my lips blue. I’d spent hours today getting in and out of the water.
“We all make sacrifices for our work, doll. Did Beverly book any of her other girls for the shoot? Any of your beautiful friends riding in my Bentley with you?”
My heart sank. Daddy always wanted the names and numbers of the models I worked with, and while my model friends were more than happy to hang on the arm of my very famous father, a sad sick feeling trickled through me every time he called to get numbers for the girls I worked with.
“No, this shoot was just me.”
While his response should’ve been full of congratulations knowing that I had been featured in this Vogue spread, I got only silence. Hurt pulled through my chest. Even now, Daddy continued to disappoint me.
“Sounds good, Doll,” he said, changing the subject. “What’s on your agenda this week?”
“I’m going to the Left Coast Gala later in the week. What about you?”
“We’ve got our own table front and center. What with your big brother Rhett dating Tasha, we Legends are taking over the entertainment world. Did you see that Rhett’s album went platinum?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m thrilled for him.” Despite my words, a twinge of jealousy pulsed through me. I wasn’t envious of Rhett’s success—I was happy for him—but to hear Daddy speak so highly of him when he ignored my achievements made my heart ache. I wanted to remind him that I was making a success of my life too, so I added, “Did you see that my Twitter account reached one million followers? I’ve been working so hard on that.”
“Great, Doll, just great.” I knew he was blowing me off when he added, “Sterling’s film is tracking number one for its opening weekend.”
You mean the film you nearly disowned him for making? The film that you claimed would never be made? That film? I wanted to yell at him, but I didn’t. I knew he really didn’t have much interest in my career aside from being able to meet my beautiful co-workers.
“That’s great, isn’t it? He must be very proud.” Just then the car pulled up in front of MacAvoy & Tremont PR. “Look, I’m going to have to go. I’ve just arrived for my meeting with Choo MacAvoy.”
“Too damned bad you couldn’t go with Boom Boom. But your sister Amanda would kill us both if I took you to her.”
“Doesn’t Boom Boom still represent Kiley?”
“Yeah, that’s right, but Kiley is working on Sterling’s next picture. You’d think Amanda would be over that tiff with Kiley by now. Business is business.”
If nothing else he was pragmatic, but I wasn’t certain I would have ever been able to get over the fact that Kiley, one of his ex-wives, had started rumors that I was strung-out on pills and an alcoholic to boot. As strained as my relationship with my half-sister Amanda might be, I totally understood why she didn’t want any Legend family member working with Boom Boom Wong.
“Well, that may take a while. Kiley did some pretty nasty things to Amanda.”
“Doll, this is Hollywood. Everyone does nasty things to everyone else. That’s how you know you’re important. If nobody is screwing you then your career is fucked. Good luck at your meeting. Do whatever they say. A good publicist can save your ass from a career-killing hell.”
“Thanks Daddy—” But he was already gone.
I tucked my phone into my purse. My dad threw me off every time we spoke. He’d been this giant of a man when Ellen and Rhett and I were kids. He’d come by the house a few times a month and slide into the house and into our lives. He’d make Mama laugh and smile and then he’d be gone. Back to his public family and his Hollywood life. The life that didn’t include the dirty little secret about his Hispanic housekeeper and how she’d given birth to Steve Legend’s bastard kids.
