(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5)

by Michelle Mankin

  “Hollie.” Max shifted me so I was on top of him. “Come here.”

  He groaned low in his throat as he drew me up over him by my upper arms. I felt him, every thick, hard inch of him against my belly first, then right where I pulsed with longing.

  “I want to . . .” His eyes blazed his intent.

  “I want it too.” My expression probably told him everything, but knowing Max, he would need the confirmation of my words.

  A knock sounded on the outer door to the suite, followed closely by a whirring sound as a keycard was inserted. Wide-eyed, we both scrambled off the bed and away from each other.

  “Hello,” Olivia called out as she entered the bedroom. When her gaze found us, standing guiltily beside the rumpled bed, her brows rose. “Hmph.”

  She clucked disapprovingly, reading the situation in a glance. Me in my pajamas, wearing a warm blush on my cheeks. Max standing beside me in nothing but his boxer briefs.

  “Mr. Cash.” She stepped farther into the bedroom. “Could you grab some clothes in the other room and excuse me and my client for a moment? I’d like to have a few words with her in private.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  * * *

  “How long have you been sleeping with him?” Olivia asked, leaning forward from the cushion on the couch that seemed to be her spot.

  “I’m not sleeping with him.” I squirmed on the club chair that seemed to be my preferred place but felt like a hot seat again. “I mean, I’m not having sex with him.”

  I turned my gaze to the entrance to the suite. Shirt untucked, khakis hastily drawn on, Max was out in the hallway, giving Olivia and me the privacy she’d requested.

  “I’m not judging you, or him.” She narrowed her gaze.

  I don’t think she believed me. Moments like this made me question acting as a career choice.

  “You’ve been through a lot,” she said. “He’s a strong, comforting presence. You’re here together day and night. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

  “He’s my employee. I’m underage. He doesn’t want anyone to know anything until we resolve those issues.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, because now’s not a good time for anything to come out that could potentially portray you in an unfavorable light.”

  “Why?” I remembered Samuel’s warning. “What’s happened?”

  “A lot.”

  She frowned, and my stomach swirled with anxiety as she opened and dug into her large shoulder bag. Withdrawing her glasses, she put them on before pulling out her iPad and returned her attention to me.

  “So many you need to look them up?” My heart rate and my imagination took off in a sprint.

  “A lot of misdirection and lies. Samuel has completely turned the tables upside down on us.” She swiped her finger over the display. Her face aglow, she glanced up. “He says that you spend extravagantly. That you’re a spoiled little girl and wanted your money, needed it to support your lavish lifestyle.”

  “The Beverly Hills is an expensive hotel. It looks bad that I’m staying here,” I said dully. My stomach clenched tight. “I’m sure he’ll go through my closet and show everyone the rows and rows of shoes.”

  “We’re staying here because it’s a central location, and the staff is accustomed to celebrities. You like shoes, as do most women. But yes, those are kernels of truth that he has crafted into lies.”

  “There’s more, isn’t there.” I could feel it. The portents of doom clouded the air.

  “He says you came on to him that night. That he refused you. That you ran away when he rejected you.”

  “That’s insane.”

  “An outright fabrication. It doesn’t matter what the truth is. In this industry, it’s all about manipulating perceptions.”

  “The reward money.” I could guess where his lies led. “When Fanny and I disappeared, he was prominently visible in the media, pretending he was doing everything to find us. There are tons of video and photos of him looking like a distraught father.”

  “Hard to argue against the visual evidence that makes him seem like the injured party.” Her expression turned somber. “Versus your poise at the press conference, and us being vague about the specific details the night you fled.” She shook her head. “In retrospect, those are mistakes that support his narrative. He’s twisted everything. Saying you weren’t really hiding but partying it up with a rock band, making up lies about him.”

  “Oh no.” My heart sank.

  “Samuel’s pretty convincing. I don’t think many really believe him. But no one wants to get involved until things settle out.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to get to work.” She tapped her screen with a manicured nail. “And get your career back on track with the two remaining roles for you to choose from.”

  “There were a half dozen offers yesterday.”

  “Now there are not.”

  I closed my eyes, clenching my fingers into fists at my sides. “Which ones are left?”

  “Valentine’s project.”

  I let out a relieved exhale. That was the one I not only wanted, I needed. The offer was for a substantial amount. “And the other?” I opened my eyes.

  “The small indie one.”

  “The Midwest romantic comedy?”

  “Yes, but not much revenue associated with it.” She lowered her glasses to the tip of her nose.

  “It’s okay. I’m going to do both.”

  “Back-to-back time commitment?” she said, making it sound like a question. “Six months of work with no rest between.”

  “I’ll manage.” I sat up straighter and told her what I probably should have last night. “Samuel called. He asked me to take back the accusations, and I refused. This is the result.”

  “Oh, Hollie.”

  I let out a shaky exhale, hating that my eyes stung with bitter tears. “My stepfather has no love for me, that’s certain.”

  “There’s more,” she said, and bile rose to the back of my throat. “Carter Besille withdrew the segment on his show and the backstory special.”

  “But he came here yesterday. He was so adamant about wanting me to do it.”

  “He got Samuel instead.” Olivia’s hazel eyes welled with empathy as she peered over the rim of her glasses at me. “The first teaser from it already aired. I made a few phone calls. Found out what he said.”

  “Samuel must have already taped it before he even called me. He knew I wouldn’t back down, or he planned to air it anyway.”

  “He has no scruples.”

  “All those years I admired him.” I swallowed hard. “I was a stupid little girl, a blind fool.”

  “He was your father.”

  “He’s not now.” I clung to that truth.

  “Your parent. We don’t get a say in who those are.”

  I nodded. “At least I had the best mother one could ever hope to have.”

  “Good girl. Remember your advantages. You’ll need to focus on the positive moving forward.”

  “Give it all to me,” I said grimly. “Everything you know. What I need to prepare for.”

  “Your career short term is going to be difficult. These two roles. You’re going to need to put your heart and soul into your performances, or there likely won’t be any more to follow. Samuel means to ruin you. He’s not just hinting that you’re emotionally unstable, he’s brought out witnesses.”

  “Who?”

  “Staff at the mansion. Classmates to say what a loner you were. Chris Hansen.”

  “I don’t want to know the specifics.” I rubbed my temples that had started to throb. My former costar boyfriend had found a way to get back at me for cutting ties to him, and he got in Samuel’s good graces at the same time.

  “You need to be more careful who you let close. Assume all are out to use you to their advantage.”

  I knew that. It was the nature of the business, even when Samuel was on my side. I should have sought to be more cyn
ical, not less.

  “We need to be proactive. Anticipate Samuel’s next move, so he looks like he’s the one scrambling to react, not us.”

  “All right.” I scooted forward. “He’s come after my career. My emotions. My relationships . . .”

  I glanced at the door again, and my chest began to sizzle with hurt. “You want me to call it off with Max.” I brought my hands together and twisted them.

  “Not call it off. Just keep it secret.”

  “Everyone who’s close to me will be in his sights.” Why hadn’t I thought of this before? “Fanny. Ash. Ernie. You.”

  “I’m not afraid of Samuel Lesowski.”

  “You should be. I am. He told me . . .” I swallowed hard and began again. “The things he said, they were really bad. Maybe I should call it off.”

  “Do you really think he will stop trying to destroy you if you back down?”

  I froze, so suddenly cold inside that chill bumps popped out all over my skin. “He won’t. What I do or don’t do doesn’t matter. He’s decided on his course of action.”

  Olivia nodded. “That’s what I believe too.”

  “How can we be proactive against that?”

  “I have a few ideas.”

  “Good.” I rubbed my upper arms. “I certainly have none.” It was all I could do to stay put. Everything in me said get up and run. Fighting back just got me slammed down.

  As if sensing my thoughts, Olivia leaned forward. Reaching across the table, she put her hand on my knee, and I covered it with mine.

  “If you’re willing,” she said, her eyes soft but her expression hard, “we’re going to be more than proactive. We’re going to hit him before he hits us. Can you help me do that?”

  I nodded.

  “Tell me everything you know about him. Business contacts. Liaisons. Those he’s wronged. Those he hates. What he fears. Who he fears. Weaknesses we can exploit. Strengths we can undermine. All of it.”

  My eyes widened. My agent wasn’t just a badass. Olivia was the badass.

  “We’re not just going to battle Samuel. We’re going to war.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  * * *

  In that moment, I knew what I had to do, and I knew when I had to do it.

  This morning, I’d woken rested, happier than I could remember being since my mother’s death, and I’d been looking forward to the party next week. Now I dreaded it.

  An all-out war meant collateral damage. If I intended to hurt Samuel, I had to go after what he valued—money and prestige. He definitely intended to hurt me. It wasn’t a question. And he certainly knew where he could hurt me the most.

  He would go after Fanny.

  I couldn’t allow that to happen. He had to think she didn’t matter to me anymore. I had to distance myself from her, from all the people I cared about.

  Publicly.

  My sister first. The Dirt Dogs and my new friends in Ocean Beach, if I could manage to alienate them at the same time in a way that seemed believable. Ernie eventually. Then Olivia.

  And Max . . .

  “Not we.” I curled my fingers into tight fists. “Me.” I firmed my gaze on my agent. “I’m going to war.”

  “Hollie.” Olivia took off her glasses. “You can’t fight him alone.”

  “I have to. Don’t you see?” Pressure built behind my eyes from the threat of tears. “He’s out to destroy me, and the best way to do that is to hurt those I care about. He says I was a loner in school. And I was. Because I had my mother for a lot of that time. And I had Fanny.”

  “Maybe—”

  “No maybe. He’ll do something terrible to her. To Ash. To those friends you mentioned that I’m fortunate to have, the ones who would come running at a moment’s notice if I asked. I can’t ask. I have to make them think I would never ask. Make Samuel think that too.”

  I stuffed my fears deep down inside my heart, where I would put all my feelings for those I cared about. Fear of my stepfather, fear that I wouldn’t win, fear that I wasn’t brave enough.

  “How do you think you can protect them if he’s so determined?”

  “I become the bitch he’s portrayed me to be. Shallow. Superficial. Spoiled. Self-centered.”

  It would have to be the performance of my life.

  Olivia stared at me for a long moment, then gave me a nod. “It might work. He won’t be expecting it. He’ll think you’re going to try to refute the things he’s said about you, not embody them. The tricky part will be fooling him while not damaging your credibility in the courtroom.”

  She put her glasses back on and swiped her fingers across the display of her iPad. “We’ll need to get you out in the public eye as soon as possible. I have you scheduled on LA Live at noon.”

  “That’s a local talk show.”

  “Yes. A hairdresser and makeup artist are on their way. Ernie too, with some outfits. But I’ll need to call them all. Tell them the look we have in mind has changed.”

  “I’ll call them.” I sat forward, my vision wavering as tears burned in my eyes. “I’ll take care of things today. I’ll need a name for a new agent, though.” I swallowed so I could continue without letting a sob escape. “Someone who will fit my new image. Someone I can trust to keep my secrets. Someone you recommend.”

  Olivia lowered her glasses to the tip of her nose. “That’s me, Hollie.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. You won’t change my mind. You can’t be someone you’re not 24/7, especially someone so polar opposite to who you really are. There’s not anyone I could recommend. It’s me. And you. We can argue about this, or we can get to work.”

  Intensely relieved, I let out a shaky breath. “We get to work.”

  “Right.” Olivia lowered her head, and her nails clacked on the screen. “Lots of shopping. Rodeo Drive. Wherever the paparazzi are today, so you can be seen. Then a show with national reach this week.”

  “Thank you. You’re incredible.” I reached over the coffee table and touched her hand.

  “You’re welcome.” She glanced to the side and gestured to the door. “What are you going to do about Maximillian Cash?”

  “Shut him out. Shut this down. He’s too nice a guy to ask to perpetrate a lie.”

  “It might not be that easy. You might have to let him go.”

  “I know. I just . . . I can’t. I mean, I can if I have to, but I have to lose my sister this week. And the rest of my support network. He makes me feel . . . secure. I’d like to keep him, that feeling, as long as I can.”

  It would be barely a truth. A thin reality. Thin ice that could likely crack beneath me at any moment. But that would be what I would have.

  That and little else.

  Chapter Seventeen

  * * *

  “Darling.” Ernie breezed into the room, several garment bags thrown over his arm, and air-kissed both of my freshly cosmetically blushed cheeks.

  Foundation. Eyeshadow. Eyelash extensions. Lipstick. More makeup than I usually wore, but then I was doing more than an interview today. As soon as I stepped outside the hotel, I would pause to be photographed by the paparazzi who had been hanging around the hotel since I checked in.

  “How are you, love?” My best friend draped the outfits for us to choose from over the back of the couch, turned to put both his hands on my arms, and squeezed reassuringly.

  “I’m fine.” I pasted on a wobbly smile.

  I wanted to throw my arms around his neck for a hug, but I had a black protective cape draped around my body, and an invisible one that I would have to find the strength to wear every day to keep him and every person I cared for a non-comforting distance away.

  “You’re holding up admirably, but you’re far from fine.” He shook his head. His artful arrangement of coppery hair didn’t move an inch, but his gaze softened considerably. “We’ll talk later.”

  Ernie studied me a moment, then lifted his gaze to the hairdresser standing behind me. She was a professional, and handled the interr
uption without even pulling my hair.

  “No curls. Put her hair up, darling. A chignon, with a couple of loose spirals to soften. Classy chic, not beach-curls casual.”

  “Yes, Mr. Caballero.”

  “Perfect.” He peered at me a moment longer as she gathered and lifted long strands of my hair. “The makeup is glamorous, but artful, not overdone. You look mid-twenties, practically legal.”

  “Thank you, I think.”

  He flopped on the cushion beside me and turned his head to give me a firm look. “I’m going with you today.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  I glanced at Olivia. She was on her cell, and had been on it the entire time the makeup artist and hairdresser had been transforming me.

  Olivia shook her head at me. She wasn’t going to help me distance myself from Ernie. It was up to me.

  I pulled in a breath. “Ernie . . .”

  “Ran into your bodyguard out in the hall. He checked my ID. He knows who I am, but still he was very thorough about it. Seems your safety’s pretty important to him.”

  Ernie gave me another investigatory glance. He was trying to figure out if I had taken his advice. I wanted to confide in him. But I couldn’t.

  “He told me to stick tight to you today.” Two faint vertical creases formed between Ernie’s brows. “Made a point of it. Now, why would he do that if he’s going to be protecting you? Could it be that he knows you’re upset by the rumors flying around about you and Samuel? But if you were, you would’ve called and talked to me about it.”

  He lifted a brow. I opened my mouth to offer an excuse, but he didn’t give me a chance.

  “We had a conversation just yesterday. Seems to me you promised not to shut me out anymore.”

  I closed my eyes. I was going to do more than shut him out. I had to send him away.

  Ernie touched my knee. I tried to find the words I needed, but I couldn’t see any way to accomplish my mission without making him hate me.