“Anyway.” I refocused on Sasha. “Being that scared, knowing how powerful my stepfather is . . .” I stressed that relational identifier because it added a gut-level horror to what he’d done. “I ran. I hid.”
Don’t bring up the fact that you and Fanny had also believed at the time that he’d played a part in your mother’s death. It wasn’t the case. We knew it now, thanks to Hart’s investigation. We needed to keep the focus on charges we could make stick.
“Fanny and I tried to get across the border, but we were robbed. We had barely any money, so we scavenged food, and slept in a sub-pump structure. We had no running water. No heat. No electricity. A local gang beat up my sister while I was sick with the flu.”
“That’s terrible.” Sasha shook her head.
“It was awful. I’ll never take the things I have from working hard for granted again. I don’t know what would have happened if Ashland Keys hadn’t taken us in, and his friends hadn’t helped us.” I turned my head, looking into the camera coming in for a close-up. “I’ll never forget what they did. I owe them a debt I can never repay.”
I hoped everyone in Ocean Beach saw the interview and the sincerity in my eyes as I spoke those words. Because after I distanced myself from them, I wasn’t sure they would think on me favorably.
Ernie’s reaction came to mind, and tears pricked my eyes.
“You don’t have to say more.” Sasha let go of me, brought her hands together, and her expression turned as earnest as her pose while the camera with the red blinking light moved in on her. “Assaults against women are on the rise. It’s a sad fact, and an even sadder one that a girl not even eighteen was allegedly attacked by a man she thought was her father in her own home. Holliewood will have her day in court. We on this show will be covering the details closely, including the stories of the other women stepping forward with allegations against Samuel Lesowski.”
Sasha lifted her chin as she stared at the camera. “There are several phone numbers and websites for sexual assault victims that will post at the end of our show. If you’ve been a victim—don’t run, don’t be silent. Speak up. Help yourself, help others come forward. Fight back. Take back your power. Take back your life.”
• • •
“Hollie, are you sure you’re up to this?” Beside me in the town car, Olivia put her hand on my knee.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“The interview seemed to take a lot out of you.” Her eyes narrowed on mine.
“I need to do this.” I was deflecting because I had to. I needed to sign the papers on the Valentine film to solidify my commitment to the project.
“True, but we can reschedule the meeting when we get back from New York. The day after tomorrow. I’m afraid my itinerary today was overly ambitious.”
“Today. Now.” I drew in a breath and firmed my shoulders. “It won’t get easier. This is my life, and I can do this.”
I could feel Max’s gaze on me and glanced over to find him looking not stoic, but visibly troubled. He’d looked that way since we departed from the studio. Had what I revealed in the interview bothered him? It certainly seemed to.
A text ding sounded from Olivia’s phone.
“That’s them. They’re inside waiting. Ready?” She glanced at me.
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Mr. Cash,” she said, peering past him through the window on his side. “There appears to be as many photographers here as there were at the hotel.”
Through the tinted glass, I could see she was right. That many, maybe more, were gathered together on either side of two barricades, leaving only a narrow opening to access the popular West Hollywood establishment.
“Stay close this time.” Max gave me a firm glance. “Don’t let go.”
His order rumbling in my ears, he took my hand and pushed open the door on his side.
Lights immediately began flashing. Not that the paparazzi necessarily knew who was about to emerge from the vehicle, but because Viago was a classy restaurant with white tablecloths and subway tiles and flattering ambient lighting where everyone who was someone in Hollywood went to close deals.
And the Valentine film, unlike the independent romantic comedy that I had signed on to without more than a couple of social media posts on my part and theirs, was a huge deal. It could make or break my career, depending on how things went.
“Hollie!”
“Miss Wood!”
“Look here!”
“Smile.”
I’d had one pasted on since I exited the car.
“This way.”
I didn’t purposely pause for photos like I had at the hotel, but a couple of photographers jumped the barricade. They blocked our path and momentarily blinded me as they snapped photos.
“Out of the way.” Max’s grip on my hand tightened. He brushed past them, pulling me with him.
I put my hand on his shoulder and shuffled closer as someone jostled me from behind.
“Keep moving,” Olivia said.
My bodyguard grunted an unintelligible reply, continuing to push forward as more reporters spilled over the metal barricades. Jostled on all sides except for his steady presence in front of me, I pressed closer, feeling the rock-hard tension in the bunched muscles beneath his clothing.
Somehow, we made it inside. As the door closed behind us, a maître d’ came forward.
“Miss Wood?” He raised a brow.
“Yes?”
“We’ve been told to expect you. Follow me, please. Mr. Valentine and Mr. Flynn are waiting.”
“Of course.” The director and the male lead on the film.
My heart rate increased, but I outwardly projected calm, and my hand remained within Max’s firm grip as he started to move forward.
“Staff remains in the lobby.” The maître d’ narrowed his eyes disapprovingly and gestured to a bench where two other imposingly large men waited.
“I go where Miss Wood wants me to go.” Max glanced at me. “She’s the only one who gives me orders.”
It hit me in that moment, something so significant, time seemed to pause. The noise and the other people receded. The heavy burden on my shoulders lightened, and my racing heart slowed.
Max. This man, this incredibly strong man, wasn’t like the other bodyguards warming the bench. Not because they were in expensive suits, and he was in his leftover Security You Can Trust blazer and khakis that I probably needed to find a way to upgrade for him without him taking offense. The difference wasn’t in his clothes, though, or the fact that those other men probably made a whole lot more money than I paid him.
It was the words he’d just spoken, and other similar statements he’d made along with accompanying actions that proved they weren’t just empty words. He meant the things he said. He was a man of integrity, a rarity among men in Hollywood, or anywhere else in my experience.
If he remained in the lobby, he wouldn’t have his head down like the others, his attention on his phone while I went in the dining room and sealed my motion-picture business deal. He would have his head up and his attention riveted on the spot where he’d last seen me. And he would maintain that position, hardly even noticeably breathing while I was gone. He would faithfully remain on guard until I returned.
He would do it because I asked. He would do exactly as I asked, not because I paid his paycheck, but because he cared about me.
Maximillian Cash was more than just what I wanted. He was exactly who I needed in my life right now.
Chapter Twenty
* * *
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going on Sasha’s show?”
“Hello to you too, Fanny. Nice to hear from you.”
With my nightstand lamps providing a welcoming glow, I dropped my shopping bags on the floor and flopped backward onto the bed. My shoes were untied and already kicked off. My aching feet dangled off the mattress. I was exhausted.
After the two-hour collaborative meeting with my new director and my love interest in
the film, and another pass through the gauntlet with photographers, I hadn’t felt like shopping, but shopping I did. Olivia had insisted.
Photos from it were already up on many of the celebrity sites. My manager had shown some to me. The comments associated with them had been largely favorable. I could still see them in my mind . . .
After what her stepfather did, she deserves a little retail therapy.
Holliewood works hard. It’s her money she’s spending, not her stepfather’s.
What kind of imbecile believes a young girl who looks like her would come on to an old geezer like him? Go #holliewood #fight #win Lesowski is a #loser
“Hello, Hols.” Fanny’s voice refocused me on the present. “I love you, and I miss you. Now tell me what’s going on.”
“How do you mean?” I asked carefully.
“Why didn’t you call to tell me about the show? Why did your best friend back out of the party? Why didn’t you tell me how far things went with Samuel?” She pulled in a needed breath. “Take your pick where to start, but we’re going to talk about all of them.”
I sat up in the bed and sighed. “Fanny, you can big-sister me another time. I’m tired. It’s been an emotional day, and I—”
A knock sounded on the frame to my door. I glanced up to see Cash standing in it, his expression neutral.
“I’m gonna take the shower first tonight, if that’s all right with you . . .” He glanced at the phone that remained at my ear and frowned as he finished. “Miss Wood.”
“No problem. I’ll move to the other room.”
“That won’t be necessary.” The crease in his brow deepened. “You’re exhausted. Stay. I’ll be in and out of your hair before you know it.”
“All right,” I whispered to his back as he stepped into the bathroom and then slid the door closed.
“Was that Maximillian?”
“Yeah.”
“Add a what the hell’s going on with him to my list of things for us to talk about.”
“Oh, Fanny.” I sighed again.
“Do you want to start in reverse order? Maximillian first.”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. My life is a mess.”
“You signed on to the Valentine project. That does not seem like a mess. That’s amazing news.”
“How did you find out?”
“It’s the big story on the Celebrity Gossip Channel. You and Valentine are trending on social media too.”
“Olivia.” I said her name in the awe-filled manner in which it should be uttered.
“She’s trying to get you in front of the news cycle before Samuel’s interview on Besille’s show airs.”
“I forget that you used to have daily PR meetings with an agent.”
“Still have to worry about public relations with me singing again.”
“You have Ash, and his label.” Targets for Samuel to destroy.
“I do. Outside isn’t as big as Zenith Productions or Black Cat Records yet, but it’s a rising force to be reckoned with. We can help you. Ash wanted me to extend an offer on his behalf. Linc too.” Lincoln Savage was the lead singer of the Dirt Dogs and cofounder with his cousin Ash of their music label.
“I appreciate it, but . . .”
“I had to talk Ramon out of coming up there to LA and getting into it with Samuel.” Ramon Martinez was the Dirt Dogs’ guitarist, and overprotective of those he considered his friends, just like Ash.
“Don’t let him do that, Fanny.”
“He won’t, or at least I don’t think he would. He just feels so helpless. We all do. We’re all down here and have each other to lean on. You’re up there by yourself. Karen and Simone ask about you every day.”
Karen Grayson was Ramon’s surf girl and owned the local surf shop. She’d outfitted Fanny and me when we had nothing. Simone Bianchi was Lincoln’s fiancée.
“We all support you,” Fanny said. “We all want to do whatever we can to help.”
“Diesel too, huh?” I couldn’t help the sarcasm leaching into my tone. There was no way the ex-pro-surfer turned Dirt Dog bassist gave a flying flip what I was going through. He was way too egocentric to see past himself. Plus, he and I did not get along.
“No, not Diesel. But only because he’s not here. He had to fly back out to the island, or he—”
I don’t want to talk about Diesel Le.” I put my cell on speaker and set it on the bed. “He’s a narcissistic, self-centered man-child who thinks I’m a child because I don’t fall at his feet and drool all over him like all the other women do.”
Just thinking about him gave me a headache. I massaged my throbbing temples with my thumbs.
“You do sound tired.”
“I am. I’ve been going since the sun came up. And I have a flight first thing in the morning to New York.”
“Oh, Hollie, whatever for?”
“Someone canceled, and Olivia got me a spot on the Behind the Stars show.”
“To talk about the lawsuit against Samuel.”
“Yes, there’s that, and maybe we’ll talk some about my career.”
The door to the bath suddenly slid open. My eyes glassed over a little, okay a lot, as Max emerged in a cloud of steam with his clothes and toiletry bag in one hand and the twist in the towel around his amazingly toned abs in the other.
His eyes met mine, and I melted. My entire insides turned to hot sludge. One heartbeat became two. Hard, insistent thumps inside my chest.
I took him all in. The wet hair slicked back. The scattering of the missed droplets on the smooth, lightly tanned skin over his wide shoulders. Both his biceps were flexed, and they were so large, both my hands together wouldn’t be able to span their circumference.
Pecs sculpted, then the ridges of his abdomen. One. Two. Three. Four. I didn’t bother counting higher.
Reaching the towel, I could very clearly see the effect my staring had on him. My mouth went dry. I lifted my gaze to find his jaw tense, and his eyes cobalt-blue flames.
My stomach fluttered as if it contained a legion of butterflies.
“Hollie, are you there?”
“Barely. I mean, yes.” I swallowed to moisten my mouth. “But something just came up.” Man, had it ever. “Can we talk about all of this later?” My voice was raspy.
“I’m worried about you, Hols.”
“I know.” I was worried about me too. I was all over the map, knowing what I should do, but with Max standing right in front of me, I didn’t know if I could. “We’ll talk at the party.”
“A proper sit-down. You and me. No interruptions. Promise?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too. So much.” To those hope-filled stars she liked to wish on and farther still. “’Bye.”
“Your sister’s worried about you,” Max said, his gaze on the cell as I ended the call and turned the ringer on it off.
“She is.”
“We all are.”
“Meaning you?”
He nodded. “The things you said today with Sasha.” His eyes were dark and filled with shadows. “I didn’t know.” He moved closer.
“Don’t feel sorry for me.”
“Sorry isn’t what I feel.”
He was right in front of me now. I could feel the heat coming off his body and had to crane my neck to keep his handsome earnest face in view.
Before I could warn him away, return us to the employer-employee relationship we needed to be in so he would be safe from Samuel like everyone else, Max spoke again, changing everything.
“I’m falling for you, Hollie.”
Shocked, I blinked as my mind went blank. I had to reboot it to get it back online.
“You said we were taking things slow,” I reminded him, not knowing what else to say. “Not that we’re doing anything, or should do anything.”
I was so rattled, I didn’t know what to do with my hands. As they fidgeted helplessly, he knelt down and captured them.
“Not slow. It�
�s not possible to do gradual with you, shug. Only one way. Fast and hard.”
My heart raced at his words. The images that came to my mind matched his intensity, letting me know that the very same thoughts ran through his.
“I want that too,” I said. “You’re a wonderful man, Max, but . . .”
“No, not wonderful.” His masculine fingers flexed over mine. “If I were wonderful, I’d have fought these feelings harder. But I would’ve had to go right back to the beginning and walk away the first time I laid eyes on you to accomplish that feat. I’d have to look away every morning when you stumble out of bed looking so adorable.”
Scoffing, I said, “I look like death warmed over.”
“You look sweet, beautiful, and vulnerable.”
“I’m not vulnerable.” I lifted my chin, denying it, even though I knew I was. I stood on the shore with the rushing tide coming in fast, and my feet stuck and sinking deeper into the sand.
“All I want to do is protect you.”
“I know. I appreciate it. But . . .”
“I want to lay the world at your feet. But I know you’ll tell me that you’re quite capable of taking on the entire world singlehandedly. I’ve seen the evidence of it myself since the press conference, and even more so today. Hollie, I know what you’re trying to do.”
His lips flattening, he shook his head at me. “You mean to push everyone away. Ernie already. Your sister eventually. You want to get them out of harm’s way because you anticipate Samuel will hurt them to hurt you.”
Unable to look at him anymore—him seeing me so clearly—I closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly shut.
“You’d be right to guess that’s his next move,” Max said. “But I won’t let you fight him alone.”
“It’s not up to you.” I opened my eyes.
My arms were stiff. I tried to withdraw my fingers from his grip, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“Don’t.” I started to panic. Irrationally, but I couldn’t help it. “Let go of me.”
He released me immediately. “I’ll never push you. Never force you to return my affection. I said earlier you give the orders. You do, Hollie. You have my allegiance and my obedience when I’m guarding you, out there in front of everyone else. But behind closed doors like right now, I want more, not less of you. And I want to give you more of me, shug. But whether you take what I’m offering is entirely up to you.”
(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5) Page 98
