It was almost too much for me to take, to be surrounded by his warmth and sympathy and to know that it was all nothing but a performance. "This has all started messing with my head, Jax." My voice cracked. "I think it's better that we part ways. I just got out of a relationship with Griff, and that turned out to be nothing but an illusion. I'm…I'm no good at pretending to love people."
"So you're dumping me," he said wryly and raked his fingers through his hair. "You could let me help, you know. What if I bought the bakery myself?"
"That sounds like charity. I can't ask you to do that." I shoveled more popcorn into my mouth. The emotional eating wasn't helping. I still felt lousy. "Anyway, as far as Poppy goes, I was thinking that I could maybe drop some hints here and there, to nudge the police in the right direction. I know the detective on the case. But then I think, doesn't that sort of violate Poppy's privacy, too? To tell people that she's in rehab? It's not really any of my business."
Jax sat back against the bench and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Explain everything to the police. I still don't see why we have to break up."
I eyed him sidelong. He stared at the sand, suddenly sullen. "Oh, come on now. I'm only fake dumping you."
"Your name is on a few blogs already, and it's only a matter of time before more pick it up. It's not like you can go back to life as usual."
I tossed a few more pieces of popcorn to the seagulls and turned this over in my mind. "It's not about privacy anymore," I said softly.
He turned to me. "Then what's it about?"
We watched the water together for a few minutes in silence because I didn't know how to answer his question. How was it my fault that I'd developed feelings for the gorgeous man beside me? In that way, I was only like thousands of other women. But I'd entered into a business relationship and I'd gone and started to think of it as more, and that was too embarrassing to admit. I was the actress who'd developed feelings for her costar.
"I'm going to head home," I said. "You take care. It's been nice fake dating you." Jax glanced over at me, and I wondered if he felt the same strange fondness I did. "Should we hug or something?" I asked. "I feel strange walking away."
His brow creased. "We can hug if you want to. Do you want to hug?"
And there it was. Okay, so he didn't feel the same. I got sentimental over nothing at all. "No, that's fine."
He sat up. "We can hug. Come on, give me a hug."
"No, really —"
"Come on."
He wrapped his arms around me before I could protest again, and his sweatshirt covered my mouth. "There." He patted me firmly on the back and stepped away, that cocky grin on his face. "You've just hugged the next Hollywood 'It' Man."
He was so damn smug, but still attractive enough to pull it off. "Whatever, Jax," I groaned. "It's been real."
"You lovebirds finished?"
We both jumped at the voice behind us, turning to see a hugely muscular man watching us, his hands folded across his chest. His biceps were the size of small dogs. This couldn't be a good thing. I looked over to Jax, watching for his response, but he looked concerned, too.
"Sorry," Jax said. "Do I know you?"
"My boss would like a word with you two," the man said in a deep voice that was almost a growl. "Come with me."
"I'm not getting in a car." I took a step back. My bag of popcorn fell to the beach.
"Ma'am, this is not a request."
"You leave her alone." Jax rose to his feet and positioned himself between us. "This is a crowded beach, and we don't want any trouble."
The wall of muscle didn't look amused. "No one's going to get hurt. It's just a meeting."
"Then I'll go, but she's going home."
The wall of muscle didn't flinch, and he and Jax were locked into some kind of bizarre standoff, with each of them poised to tackle the other. It may not have been obvious under his sweatshirt, but I'd felt Jax's arms enough to know that they could probably inflict some real damage. Beside me, a seagull was pecking at my popcorn.
I sighed. "Look, can you tell us who your boss is at least? I think it's reasonable that we'd be reluctant to blindly follow you."
The wall of muscle kept his gaze fixed on Jax. "My boss is in the car. If you want to know who he is, you need to come with me."
I started to walk forward, but Jax put out one arm. "No. You stay here. I'll go alone."
"And leave you here with this guy?"
"I can handle him."
"He wants both of you," the man said.
I took Jax's hand. "It's okay. We'll go together."
The man rolled his eyes. "You two are adorable. For the last time, no one's going to hurt you, so move it."
We walked past him, giving ourselves a wide berth, and headed toward the black town car that was waiting. The windows on the vehicle were mirrored, so as we approached, all we could see was the image of our own terrified faces. I reached out and tugged at Jax's sleeve, my heart thundering in my chest. What the hell had I managed to get myself into?
We stopped several paces from the car and waited. Then the window rolled down and a face came into view: a middle-aged man with intensely staring eyes that peeked out from beneath two thick gray eyebrows. My breath locked. Hodges Brennan.
"Mr. Cosgrove." He smiled in a way that was not at all nice. "And Ms. Mallory."
I swallowed a lump of fear in my throat and clenched Jax's sleeve tighter. Beside me, he was unmoved. "Mr. Brennan," he said.
Behind us, the wall of muscle grumbled. "Are you happy? Now get in the damn car."
Hodges Brennan parted his lips in something between a smile and a sneer. "I'd do what he says. I've never known him to have a sense of humor about these things, and neither do I."
With a sigh, Jax opened the car door and climbed in. I held my breath and followed.
CHAPTER NINE
Hodges didn't want to talk. Every attempt was met with silence, or the raising of his palm. The wall of muscle sat beside him and someone else drove. After a time, the car pulled over to the side of the road, and the wall of muscle left again. Not even ten minutes later, he returned with a very terrified-looking Greta.
She slid into the seat next to me, and I felt her shaking. "What the hell, Hodges?" she snapped. "Is this really how you conduct your business?"
"Hello, Ms. Applebea. It's always lovely to see you."
She gritted her teeth and shook her head at him. "Like the goddamn mafia. Most people use phones these days."
He was sitting very still, dressed in pressed khakis, a white Oxford shirt, and a navy blazer. The ensemble was presumably very expensive, though I'd never had an eye for those things. To me, it was like he'd wandered out of the clubhouse at the country club and had decided to spend the evening forcing people into his car under threat of violence. Though as the car ride continued, I began to relax just a little. He offered us beverages and a packet of trail mix, both of which we refused. Still, it didn't seem like the kind of thing one did before harming someone.
Greta turned to me then, and I noticed that she wasn't wearing a stitch of makeup. Her eyebrows looked thinner than usual. "Hey, honey. How are you doing?" She reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Okay." My teeth chattered, but the contact helped.
"Don't you worry about Hodges, all right?" She gave him a pointed glare. "He's got a flair for the dramatic, but he's harmless."
Beside me, Jax was stone still, his gaze set on the producer. "Are you going to tell us what this is about?"
Brennan fixed a steady stare at him. "Poppy Hayes is missing. I think you're the one who has the explaining to do, Mr. Cosgrove."
"I had nothing to do with it."
But Brennan wasn't moved. "She vanished after leaving my party last night. She was signed for my next film, as are you, Mr. Cosgrove. Now she's being called a missing person." He scowled. "I take personal offense to having my name dragged into something this distasteful."
Jax held up both of his hands. "
We didn't hurt her. We didn't have anything to do with —"
"Then," Brennan continued with a sigh, "I review the surveillance footage and pictures from the party. There was some drama, wasn't there? Poppy falling into the pool, and some mysterious woman jumping in to save her." He directed his stare at me, and a blast of ice ran across my skin. "Then I see this mysterious woman leaving in Poppy's limousine. When I research this woman, I find that I have no idea who she is. I figure she's a local nobody, maybe some actress from the community theater. It doesn't take much digging to find out there's more to the story."
My throat tightened, and my breaths came in shallow gasps. "I can explain —"
"Wren Mallory," he continued, staring at me. "A young woman who's had some small-time acting roles, but has apparently left acting entirely. Griffin Dannel's ex-girlfriend. He dumped you for Poppy, didn't he? How interesting that you found your way into my party on the same night your rival disappeared."
"Wren was my date." Jax wrapped his arm around me protectively. "She had nothing to do with Poppy's disappearance. We can explain everything."
"And," Brennan continued like a steamroller, "while you're explaining, I'd like to know what the media campaign is about. Don't look surprised. I follow these things very closely. It's part of my business. Isn't it funny how you've been spotted all over Archer Cove with a mysterious woman? And today's news is that this mysterious woman saved Poppy's life hours before her disappearance. Wren is a hero." He sneered. "Forgive me for not applauding. I'm more cynical than that. But it seems I'm alone, and that everyone else wants to know more about Wren Mallory."
I was looking down at the floor, feeling like a school kid being taken to task by the principal. Here it was, the day of reckoning, when I got my comeuppance for my various shenanigans. "It was nothing," I whispered. "We just spent some time together."
I dared to look up and saw that Brennan was glaring at me again, so I looked back down at my feet.
Jax wasn't easily intimidated. "Give me a break," he snorted. "If I'm guilty of anything, it's liking publicity. Wren is a victim in all of this." Jax was still leaning forward, still urging Brennan to see how harmless it was supposed to be. "It started as a misunderstanding because some blogger saw Wren leaving my room, and that's kind of a long story."
"We didn't sleep together," I added.
"We didn't," Jax agreed. "Her choice, not mine."
Before I could fully register the comment, Brennan said, "So you decided to continue with the misunderstanding?"
"It was a prank," Jax said. "We were playing with the media. My agent and publicist were giving me hell because I've been portrayed…poorly." He stopped, scratched the side of his neck.
"It's a different woman every night of the week with you," Brennan said, sounding like a stern father.
"Okay. Right." Jax released a breath. "But in fairness, that's not entirely true, either. It's just what they report, the way they report it."
Brennan's lips thinned. "Your publicist is right. You need to repair your image before you kill your career. She promised me you were doing exactly that. That you were in a serious relationship. That you were going to be a little more discreet for once. And you." He looked at Greta. "What's your involvement in this…mess? I have pictures of the three of you talking at the party. Are you Wren's agent?"
Greta had her eyes closed and was rubbing at the tension in her forehead. "Hodges, I swear on the hulk sitting to your right that I had nothing to do with Jax's publicity stunt. Wren's not an actress anymore, otherwise, yeah, I'd sign her in a second." She reached over and clasped my chin. "I mean, look at this face. Those cheekbones!"
Brennan's gaze softened slightly as he turned to me again. "Is this true? You're not an actress?"
"No, sir. I'm just a writer now. I have a screenplay."
I don't know why I added that last part. My reputation was more than a little tarnished with Brennan as it was. I felt pathetic the instant those hopeful words left my mouth. Then I chased them with even more humiliation by adding, "It's really an honor to meet you, sir. I'm a big fan of your work and I, uh, enjoyed your party."
Yeah, that ought to do it. We were on our way to being best friends.
He studied me a good long time before responding. "You seem harmless enough," he finally said. "Though I can't imagine what you were doing getting involved with these two."
I waited for him to say more, but he didn't. "I'm sorry, were you asking me a question?"
Brennan remained still, even as the car twisted and turned down the narrow streets along the coast. "Perhaps. Were you volunteering an answer?" He wrinkled his nose. "Don't bite your nails."
I set my hand back in my lap. "Okay. Well, Greta is my friend. And Jax — like I said, I'm a writer and I have a screenplay." In case he'd missed it the first time. "He said he would help me to sell it. I didn't have anything to do with Poppy's disappearance," I whispered, suddenly feeling like I was in a confessional with a stern priest. "None of this had a thing to do with Poppy."
Brennan released a long breath and then held out a hand to the goon, who gave him a large envelope. He opened the clasp and pulled an eight-by-ten inch photo from inside. "I know that Poppy and Griff had a disagreement before she vanished," he said. "And from what I gather, that disagreement had to do with you, Wren."
He handed the image to me. It was a picture of Griff and Poppy, obviously enlarged. She was glaring at him, and he was staring…I followed his gaze. My heart skipped.
"He's looking at you," Brennan said, and reached into the envelope again to remove several more images. "These were taken at different points of the night, and you see that in all of them, he's staring at you like some lovesick puppy, and Poppy is noticing."
My hands shook. Hell, my bones were shaking. "I don't understand —"
"There's chemistry there," Brennan replied. "Attraction." His lips curled into a mirthless smile. "You and Griffin Dannel would make a handsome couple."
I broke out into a sweat. This conversation had bypassed "awkward" a while back, and now it was getting a little weird. "Funny you should mention that, because our relationship is so over —"
Brennan waved me off. "I don't care. All I know is that this —" he gestured to the images. "This is difficult to capture. Griff and Poppy had a chemistry that was volatile at times. That's why I cast them together. Now, I have an opening." He smiled, looking like some evil elf.
It took a minute for the words to settle. "You want me to be in your film? To take Poppy's place?" My stomach began to heave. "I don't feel comfortable with that. At all."
"You'll be cast," he said. "And you'll help me to capture this magic on film. It's poetic, don't you think? Wren Mallory, the heroine who saved Poppy Hayes from drowning only hours before her disappearance, will step forward to take Poppy's place."
I didn't like the way he was looking at me, and I definitely didn't like that he was telling me what to do. "What if Poppy comes back?"
"I know Poppy all too well." He lifted his chin. "This stunt is planned. She wants to make life difficult for me, but I'm going to show her just how easily she can be replaced." He smiled coldly. "You'll be in my movie, Wren."
"Or else what?"
"I'm a powerful man. I can make stars out of nobodies. I can also ruin careers." He looked at Jax and Greta, then smiled calmly at me. "But let's not talk about threats right now. Let's talk about potential." He leaned forward. "I'll read your screenplay."
"So what? Reading my screenplay means nothing." Lest he think I was that naive. I knew my way around rejection, that was for sure. "I'm not an actress. I don't want to be an actress." And less than an hour ago, Jax and I had agreed that we needed to end our fake relationship. Starring in a movie, thinking about the possibility of having to face Griff again…I felt sick.
"What do you think is fair, Wren?"
The car shuddered right and left as we hit a patch of unpaved road. I had never been so uncomfortable in my life, and my skin was so h
ot that I was amazed my clothing hadn't yet caught fire.
If I was going to put myself through this hell — and let's be honest, that's what it would be — then something good was going to have to come out of it. Then it dawned on me. All of those professionals on the movie set, working those long days. They would need coffee, wouldn't they? And I was the coffee girl.
"My family has a bakery," I said. "It's well-established in town, and the food is top-notch. I don't care if you pay me at all, but I want you to commit, right now, to giving my family's bakery a contract to cater your movie set. That's all meals, every day. Beverages, too." I sat back in my seat and held my breath.
Hodges laughed. "That's an interesting thought. I'll consider it."
"Please," I said. "I can't appear in your movie unless you agree." This would give Hedda's a financial shot in the arm, which the business desperately needed. I paused. "Unless it doesn't matter to you if I take Poppy's place…"
His mouth tightened into a thin line. Clearly, Hodges was a man used to calling all of the shots, and he didn't like this turn. "Are these —" he indicated to Jax and Greta with a point of his finger, "your friends? Do you realize what could happen to their careers if you walk away? What I will do to them for crossing me?"
Greta shifted in her seat. "Hodges, don't put Wren in that position. I've already told you that I had nothing —"
He held up his hand and she stopped short with a grunt, crossing her arms.
The lump in my throat expanded, and my heart scampered as I questioned whether I was doing the right thing by negotiating at all. I was a nobody, plain and simple. But I knew how to fake it, and at that moment, I was faking the hell out of my confidence. "I realize it, sir. But again, if you want to do this the right way, these are my terms."
The car lurched. I didn't even know where we were by then. Either side of the vehicle was surrounded by trees. I hoped that Hodges had planned some kind of return trip and that he wasn't going to leave us on the side of the road.
The Coffee Girl Page 10
