But Giselle hadn’t completely abandoned Turtle Beach after all.
CHAPTER THREE
Giselle followed Sasha down the fire-escape stairs to the back of the hospital. Sasha peered out of an emergency exit. She looked fabulous in Giselle’s outfit of designer jeans and boots. Giselle smiled. Sasha had grown up into such a confident, sassy woman. Such a contrast to the insecure little girl Giselle had been forced to leave behind. She swallowed the stone-like lump in her throat. She’d missed Sasha. She’d been like Giselle’s sweet younger sister.
“Jake’s here,” Sasha said. “You ready to run?”
“Ah, Sasha, you never run,” Giselle said, forcing away the awful sadness engulfing her at the idea of leaving Sasha again. “It only draws attention. You walk casually then there’s nothing for people to notice.”
“Nothing would stop Jake noticing you, no matter what color your hair is.” Sasha pulled her into a tight hug. “Please don’t hurt him again.”
A nasty tingle spread down Giselle’s body. She stiffened and pulled away.
“Heavens, Sasha,” she said lightly. “We were kids. Things change. Relationships change.”
“The important ones stay forever, Giselle. You are important to me, to Jake. Me, I lost a dear friend. Jake lost the love of his life.”
Giselle rubbed her hands down her face. She didn’t want to hear Sasha’s words. She didn’t want them to be true. She didn’t want to have hurt Sasha. Hurt Jake. It was all too much to handle. “Sasha, you can’t say things like that.”
This trip was supposed to be simple. In. Put the past to rest. Sell estate. Out. Move on. She couldn’t cope with the possibility she’d hurt people she’d loved so long ago.
“You know me well enough to know I tell it like it is.”
“Love is never simple.”
“It can be.”
“Not in my experience.” Giselle hugged Sasha. “I love you, Sasha.” She needed to get away. She could never handle emotional situations. Give her a complicated business negotiation no problem, but emotions had her running. She walked to Jake’s truck.
She climbed in and slipped on her seatbelt.
“You okay?” Jake asked. She couldn’t look at him. Jake was so close and Sasha’s words about love were clanging in her ears.
She blinked hard, only just managing to keep the dam of tears from piercing her fortified defenses. “Sure. But it’s time to leave,” she said, keeping the boiling emotions from her voice. She glanced at her watch. “I need to get on the road if I’m going to make the last flight to Sydney.”
Jake rammed the truck into gear. “Right,” he said, his voice clipped.
Giselle didn’t break the silence of the short ride back to town. What could she say? She couldn’t tell him about the past. Her mother was dead and the whole town revered her in death as they had in life. Nothing could eliminate her history, but she’d faced Turtle Beach and it hadn’t broken her. She’d seen for herself that the town now had the facilities to help children in need. She’d done what she could to prevent any child having nowhere to turn. She’d leave Turtle Beach, put the nightmares to rest and hope the memories would fade.
Her phone buzzed. She checked the display. Her American agent. Good. The tickets for her Kiss Me Again global tour were about to go on sale. This was it. Finally, she was going to crack the American market.
Her single “Kiss Me” had hit number one and the Kiss Me Again tour would consolidate her fan base. For ten years she’d been trying to break into the American music scene with only middling success. “Kiss Me” had been a huge hit in the US dance clubs, and radio had slowly picked up the tune and now she had a spot on The Late Show. It was all starting to happen.
“Tony, what’s news?” she asked. This was the world she knew and understood. The world she should be in right now. Touring, singing, writing songs … making people happy through music.
Tony didn’t answer. He took a long, preparatory breath. “Bad news, I’m afraid.”
She gripped the phone a little tighter. Tony always saw the bright side of everything. His glass wasn’t just half full, it was constantly overflowing. If he said bad news it meant catastrophe.
“What is it?” She heard the fear in her voice. Jake glanced over.
“You know that meeting with Christian Fisher?”
“Yes.” With her music career riding high, Tony thought investigating movie options might be a good idea. Christian Fisher was one of the best directors in the business.
“You didn’t … He didn’t … Um … There was nothing …”
“What, Tony? Just say it.”
“You didn’t sleep with him did you?” Tony rushed out the words.
Her head jerked back. “Of course not. He’s old enough to be my father and he’s married.”
“I’ve had a call. There’s a tape.”
“A tape of what?”
“You. Him. The Presidential Suite at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. There’s CCTV footage of you going into the hotel together in November.”
“Yes. To the bar. For a drink after the dinner meeting you set up.”
“Okay, okay.” Tony was breathing heavily. “Well, I’ve received an anonymous call. The man said he was in possession of a tape with you and Christian and he’ll release it unless you pay up one million dollars.”
“Oh my God.” She slumped in her seat. “A sex tape.”
Jake pulled the truck sharply to the side of the road. She met his eyes briefly but couldn’t discern his expression.
“Now, you’re sure it’s a fake?”
“Damn it, Tony. Of course it’s a fake.” She ran the evening quickly over in her mind. Hotel bar. A couple of glasses of wine and a taxi home. Alone. What could possibly have been misconstrued? Christian had been a bit touchy-feely and given her a kiss goodbye, but everyone did that in Hollywood, didn’t they?
“Okay. I’ll demand we see a copy before paying up. Hopefully that’ll make this all go away.”
“I’m not paying a cent.” But she knew it wasn’t that simple. Dread crept into her stomach and settled in.
“I understand your stance on this, but we can’t afford any negative publicity right before your tour goes on sale. We’re still managing the backlash from your breakup with Chris.”
“Chris was a creep.” She’d briefly dated Hollywood’s latest hunk. Pretty and famous he may be, but a gentleman he certainly was not.
“You and I know that, but the world thinks he’s a darling.”
She didn’t want to relive those headlines. Somehow she was always painted as a hard woman. Ice queen. Just because you didn’t want your private life trawled over by tabloid journalists, there was something wrong with you.
“So, until I sort out this tape situation, I want you to keep a low profile. Where are you exactly?”
“The middle of nowhere.” Jake had stopped on the old coast road. Nothing but sand, waves and fields of sugar cane.
“Well stay there.”
“No, I’m heading back to Sydney this afternoon.” No way would she sleep in the house of horrors that was her childhood home. She would rearrange to meet the developer in Sydney.
“Giselle, I know you hate being told what to do, but trust me on this. Stay where you are. Stay out of sight and let me get the tape thing under control. The media hate having nothing on you. Even if this tape is a fake, it won’t matter to them. They’ll pounce and no one takes kindly to infidelity, especially when children are involved.”
“Damn it, Tony, I didn’t do it.” She tried to keep her voice under control, but she couldn’t keep out the tremor.
“Unfortunately that’s not the issue. Please, Giselle, lie low for a few days.”
“Fine. I’ll stay here one more day, but that’s it.”
“Good girl.”
She permitted herself a small smile. Tony was one of the few people she allowed to give her any sort of advice. Whether she took it or not was completely another matter.
“Don’t
be so patronizing.”
“Don’t be so difficult,” Tony said, amusement playing in this voice.
“Don’t you know, Tony. I’m a diva. I’m allowed to be difficult.”
“Just be difficult in that tiny Australian town, but stay out of sight.”
“Fine.” But it was anything but fine. “Call me when you have more news.”
“No problem.”
“And, Tony.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“Love you right back, baby.”
She put her phone in her bag and stared at the sea. Life was never simple.
“So you’ve graduated from singing to sex tapes?” Jake teased.
“Jake!” She punched his thigh. “Don’t joke. This is serious and it’s not true.”
He laid his hand on her arm. “I know, but I suspect the problem will be people who don’t know you as I do.”
His touch, his words … it was too much, too close. She looked away. No one knew her like he did. Since she’d escaped from home, she’d never let anyone get near, let anyone know anything genuine about her. She’d manufactured an image and then lived it. In fact, she’d almost forgotten who the real Giselle was. She did know that the real Giselle was unlovable.
She rubbed her hands across her face. “My agent recommended lying low for a while.”
“I’ll drive you home.” Jake put the truck into gear. “Keep to the house. I’ll tell everyone a caretaker has moved in. That should keep most people happy.”
The thought of being in that house, in the dark, froze her blood. The fear-inducing memories of her mother looming over her, ready to strike, flooded her mind. “I’m not staying there.”
Jake frowned. “Why not? I’m sure there’d be clean sheets in the cupboard. I’ll come back with you and check.”
“No.”
Jake placed his elbow on the truck door. He propped his head on his hand and regarded her for a moment. “I guess it’ll have to be The Sea View Resort. It’s the closest thing we have to five-star.”
“I’d be recognized in five minutes.”
Jake drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “You’re always welcome at my place. No one’s going to see you out there.”
It was the loveliest and the most dangerous thing she’d heard all year. She’d only been able to keep her emotions at bay as she’d known she would only see Jake for a few hours. But an evening with Jake? A night with Jake down the hall? She gave herself a mental shake. What had been between them had only been puppy love, young love, and it had been a lifetime ago. There was nothing between them now.
“You’d do that for me?” she asked. “Put me up for the night?”
“Have an old friend to stay? Of course.”
Of course that’s how he saw her, an old friend from a different time. Sasha was wrong. Giselle swallowed her stupid disappointment. Jake Carlton would do that for anyone.
Jake pulled back onto the road. His leg tensed as he changed gears. She could see the taut thigh muscles through his jeans. Her gaze traveled up his fit body to his gorgeous, tanned profile.
Funny, she didn’t like being just anyone to Jake.
Jake drove back through town. Peter from the hardware store waved. Jenny from the café waved. All the kids from the Grey family waved. Friday afternoon always had a holiday feel about it.
“I’d forgotten how everyone knows everyone else,” Giselle said, pulling on her hat and enormous sunglasses.
“Turtle Beach has always had a great community. You know that.”
He frowned. Giselle didn’t confirm his statement. Something fluttered ahead. One of the Christmas decorations hung awkwardly from a light pole. He pulled over.
“What are you doing?” Giselle asked, glancing about.
“Wonky star,” he said, pointing. “It’s heavy and might be dangerous if it fell.”
He climbed from the truck and surveyed the Christmas ornament. It appeared wind-damaged. He wrangled the star, but he couldn’t hold it in the right position and cut it loose at the same time.
“Here.” Giselle’s hands covered his. “Let me hold it.” A flash of fire seared his skin. He looked down into her heart-shaped face. He could spend an eternity looking into those big brown eyes. Brown flecked with pure gold. Her tongue touched her lips. Oh God. He burned to touch more than her hand. To hold her, love her. He’d loved her for so long, a love that had become part of his being. But it was unreciprocated. Giselle would have come back if she’d felt the same way. Come back or asked him to go with her. She’d done neither.
A gust of wind forced his attention back to the star. Just as well. There was no point entertaining fantasies. Losing Giselle was the tragedy of his life. Everyone suffered those. He was nothing special.
“Thanks,” he managed, his voice rough. He focused on the star. This was where he belonged. In Turtle Beach. In the community that needed him.
“If you could hold it here.” He showed her what to do. “Then I can cut it down.”
Giselle stabilized the large star and he cut it from the light pole. He hoisted it into the tray of the truck.
“We only put these up a few weeks ago,” he said, opening the truck door for her. “They’ll just service this year. We’ll need new ones for next year.” He shut her door, walked to his side of the truck and got in. “I don’t know what we’re going to do without your mother. She was the best fundraiser this side of the border.”
Giselle didn’t reply but flicked her gaze out the window. He shook his head. He’d never understood Giselle’s relationship with her mother.
When Giselle had disappeared all those years ago, her mother was distraught. The whole town had turned out to search for her. He didn’t sleep that night, combing bush land. The next afternoon, the local cop told Faye that Giselle was alive and well in Sydney but wouldn’t be coming home. As she’d turned sixteen, the police were powerless to intervene. She was an adult in the eyes of the law.
Faye had traveled to Sydney. She’d even hired a private investigator to try to find Giselle and bring her home. Jake and his father had also helped, but Giselle remained lost to them. Every week Giselle phoned the Turtle Beach police station to report she was fine but she didn’t want anyone to try to find her. After two years, the phone calls stopped.
Then out of nowhere, Giselle had burst onto the English music scene. She’d scored a record deal with the largest company in the UK, success, fame, money. She had everything, but never once came back to Turtle Beach. She’d dumped them all.
He turned down the long driveway to his farm. The mature cypress oaks he’d planted seven years ago lined the entrance.
“A tree-lined drive,” Giselle said, her voice wistful. “It’s so beautiful, Jake. I’ve always wanted a tree-lined drive.”
“I know,” he said. She’d often talked about it when they were kids. That one day she’d have a place of her own with a long, majestic tree-lined drive. He’d thought of her frequently as he’d systematically dug the holes and planted his trees. Her vision became his reality. He didn’t quite know why he’d done it.
The house came into view.
“Oh my God. Jake, what have you done? It’s gorgeous.”
The hundred-year-old homestead shone in the afternoon sunlight. “It took a few years, but I restored the place.”
“This is incredible,” Giselle said. Jake felt a warm glow at her words. He hadn’t realized how much Giselle’s approval would mean to him.
“Well, we didn’t have the money back then, but the town’s been thriving since we reinvented ourselves as a tourism destination. I converted half the farmland from sugar cane to coffee. I put in a visitor’s center, which has done surprising well.”
“I’d love to see it,” Giselle said.
“I’ll take you up there.”
“Perhaps after it’s closed?”
“Good idea.”
Jake pulled up in front of the house. “We just have to ensure any developme
nt that happens is sympathetic to the town and its natural beauty.”
“Hmm.”
She clearly didn’t want to discuss developers coming to town. He’d leave it for now, but before she left he’d convince her to give him time to raise the community funds to buy her mother’s estate.
He opened the door and ushered her into the living room. “Have a seat. I’ll ring the guys from the mechanic’s and get them to check over your car, then I’ll make us a drink.”
“Make it a strong one.”
“I was thinking coffee, but I can open a bottle of wine if you like.”
Giselle walked over to his makeshift Christmas tree. He’d cut down one of the wispy pines invading the lawn and covered it in an array of the old family Christmas things.
“Wine would be lovely,” she said, touching one of the funny little ornaments he’d made in primary school. Giselle would have made one, too.
He moved next to her. “Do you remember making those? Miss Tilla’s class. Grade Six.”
She nodded and moved to the other side of the tree.
“I’ve always wondered what happened to her,” Jake said. “She was such a great teacher but she left so abruptly.”
Giselle’s body shuddered.
“Are you all right?” She couldn’t be cold. The afternoon heat was shimmering outside. He reached out and touched her arm. “Giselle?”
She moved from his touch. “How’s that wine coming along?” But her bright tone didn’t cover the strain in her voice. She tried to wipe her eyes without his noticing.
“Hell, Giselle. What’s wrong?” That bloody tape. If he could get his hands on the lowlife who was extorting her … Murderous thoughts ricocheted through his mind.
“It’s nothing. Nothing. Just a long day.”
“It’ll be okay.” He put his arm about her shoulders but she shook free. Not forcibly, but as though she couldn’t bear to be touched by anyone.
“I used to believe that, but not everything works out okay.”
If she’d pushed over the Christmas tree and stomped on the decorations, he wouldn’t have been more shocked. Giselle’s life looked so perfect—fame, fortune and a career she obviously loved. He stared at her, unable to fathom what to do next.
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