by Alexa Aston
Brenda jumped again as Leo ambled into the kitchen. “I need caffeine,” she declared and turned on the coffeemaker.
This wasn’t the Brenda Dash knew. Something was definitely wrong beyond a lack of sleep. His assistant seemed like a bundle of nerves. He watched her hands shaking as she pulled a K-cup from the coffee tree. Once Leo left, he’d pull her aside and see if there was something he could do.
“Ready to go sweat?” he asked the trainer.
“My favorite thing to do. Next to sex with Angela,” Leo quipped, following Dash out the back door to the home gym set up in the pool house.
They went at it hard for an hour. Dash pushed everything from his mind and dedicated himself to pumping iron and the boxing moves that Leo had introduced to his workout recently. An hour later, he was dripping with sweat and on a euphoric high. Both men grabbed water from the small refrigerator and talked briefly before Leo headed to his next client appointment.
Dash decided to hit the shower before eating breakfast. The hot water pelting him soothed his screaming muscles. As he toweled off, his phone chimed with a text. Before he could look at it, the cell rang. He tossed the towel aside and picked up his phone. Cassie’s name and number had come up.
“Hey, Cassie. Anything wrong?”
“Hi, Dash. Sorry I’m calling so early but I wanted to reach you before you left for the set. Listen, a little birdie let me know that today is your birthday. It’s also Sydney’s.”
“I know. I bought her something small that I plan to sneak to her.”
“I have a better idea. Give it to her tonight at my house. I want to have a dinner party for you two. Nothing fancy. Just so we can celebrate both of your birthdays. I know Sydney’s kept to the strict line in the sand between the two of you but you’ve both got to be miserable. Come to our house to eat and celebrate. It’ll only be you two, Rhett and me, and Ken and Melanie. Please say yes.”
“I will—only if you don’t tell her that I’m coming. I’m afraid if she knew, she might say no.”
“Hmm. I hadn’t thought of that. Okay, let’s surprise her. Do you know her dessert preference? Or what you might like?”
“We’re both chocoholics, Cassie. Any birthday cake with chocolate would be perfect.”
“You’re on. Let’s aim for seven. I won’t be at the studio today so I’ll just see you tonight.”
“Thank you. To spend even a little time with Sydney away from work will be the icing on my cake.”
Dash hung up and glanced in the mirror. A huge grin lit up his face. He might not be able to make love to the woman he loved on their birthday but he planned to pull her aside at the Corrigans’ home for a few minutes and kiss her senseless. That would be the best present of all.
As he shaved, his phone chimed again with a text from Leo. He’d forgotten a text came in just as Cassie called.
Flowers on your doorstep when I left. Think it’s cute Sydney sent you the same arrangement you sent her. Enjoy your day, bro!
What the hell was Leo talking about?
Dash had never sent flowers to Sydney. He should have, especially today since it was her birthday. He’d get Brenda to place an order and have them delivered to Monty’s house.
But why would Leo think Dash had sent Sydney flowers? And when?
He finished shaving and dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. Today, Paul would be wearing a sharp Armani suit for a meeting he had. By the end of the day, the suit wouldn’t look so great since filming included Paul being shot at, almost hit by a car, and climbing through an air shaft.
Dash walked to the front of the house to bring in the flowers Leo mentioned. He opened the front door and saw nothing on the porch. Heading for the kitchen, he followed his nose. The smell of bacon filled the air. Tim was gracious enough to make eggs and bacon for Dash a couple of times a week. It saved him time and was a nice change from the protein shake or Greek yogurt and fruit he usually ate.
“Perfect timing,” Tim said as Dash entered.
Brenda was nowhere in sight.
“Have you seen Brenda this morning?” he asked.
“She was here a few minutes ago. Been wandering in and out. She’s really restless today.”
“Go ahead and plate breakfast for me, Tim. I’ll be right back. I need her to do something for me ASAP.”
Dash left the kitchen and headed for the office, thinking Brenda might be trying to get some work done. As he approached, he could hear scissors snipping. He paused in the doorway. Brenda had her back to him. She tossed the scissors on the desk and started pushing something into the trash. Then she lifted the sack.
“Doing some cleaning?”
She dropped the bundle. Her face turned beet red.
Stepping inside the room, he asked, “What’s going on, Brenda? And don’t start in with the excuses you made this morning. You’re jumpy. On edge. You owe me an explanation.”
She burst into tears.
That was the last thing Dash expected. Brenda was as pulled together as anyone he’d ever met. For her to emotionally collapse like this was totally out of character.
Then it hit him. It wasn’t about her at all.
This was about Sydney.
He wrapped her in a bear hug and let her cry. It was the same thing he did when Herc got a skinned knee or had his feelings hurt. Physical contact and comfort worked wonders, no matter what your age or gender.
Brenda pulled away. She turned and picked up the trash sack she’d dropped like a hot potato and then reached for the scissors. Cutting through the plastic, she yanked it wide.
“Be careful. There’s glass at the bottom,” she warned.
Dash looked inside and tried to make sense of what he saw as the cloying scent of roses hit his nose. The bag had a lot of greenery in it with a mass of white flowers. The stems had all been chopped to a small size and crammed into the sack.
He looked back at Brenda. “I don’t get it. You sliced up a bunch of flowers and jammed them into the trash. I’m assuming the glass at the bottom is a broken vase. Why the hell would you destroy a flower arrangement?”
“I was trying to hide it. From you,” she admitted as she lowered the sack to the ground.
“Hide it? Wait, are these from Sydney? Leo sent me a weird text and told me he’d seen flowers on the porch just like those I’d sent to Sydney. He thought she’d dropped them off for my birthday.” Dash gave his assistant a long look. “I’ve never ordered any flowers for Sydney, so why would Leo think I did? Besides, you’re hiding them. You’ve told me you love the idea of Sydney and me together, Brenda. You’d never hide any gift she sent me. Talk. Now,” he ordered.
She wiped her eyes, smearing her mascara. “Sydney didn’t want you to know. I promised her I wouldn’t tell unless I thought you needed to know. It’s time you knew.” Brenda drew in a deep breath. “Sydney’s ex-husband sent them.”
“Craig’s dead,” Dash responded. “Did he have some account set up in his will to send her flowers on her birthday every year? Why would they be sent here? I’m really confused.”
Brenda sniffed. “Craig was her first husband. The Creep was her second. Wake. Or I should say Wakefield Marshall the Fourth.”
His head reeled. Sydney had been married again after Craig? Why hadn’t she told him? Not that it would’ve mattered. Dash looked at Brenda.
“She married Wake straight out of law school. He was old money, east coast—except the money had dried up. They took jobs in New York at different law firms. He screwed around on her so she divorced him and moved to Boston. That’s where I met her, at the law office she went to work for. Wake couldn’t let her go, though. He’d call and email her. Send her flowers on her birthday and their anniversary. Always white roses. She hated them—and him.”
Brenda began pacing the office. “I think Wake is the biggest reason she moved to the west coast. Oh, she was tired of being a lawyer. I think she missed California and her dad. Most of all, she wanted to get as far away from The Creep as possible. Tha
t’s my nickname for him. He’s a worthless piece of shit and she’s better off without him.”
“Somehow he knows she’s in LA. And that she’s with me. Or he thinks she’s with me.”
Brenda nodded. “He sent a bouquet of flowers on their anniversary a few months ago. They were placed on your porch. Sydney found them when she was leaving and Leo was arriving. Wake doesn’t know Sydney’s real last name or anything about her past. She’s already filed with the courts and legally changed her name back from Brown to Revere, in order to put another layer between them so he can’t find her. The only thing we can think of is that Wake hired a PI to follow me when I came to LA. Sydney and I found some kind of tracking device slipped into my bag. Whoever did it knows I work here. I don’t know if The Creep believes Sydney lives here or not. She hasn’t gotten anything from him at Monty’s house.”
“Why didn’t you file a police report when you found the tracker?”
She sniffed. “And what would I say? That someone I don’t know and have never met who lives on the opposite coast might have hidden it in my bag to see if he could discover where his ex-wife had moved through my movements? The cops have way more on their plates, Dash. Yes, California has stalking laws but we don’t have any physical proof that links Wake to the tracker. Or even the flowers that have been delivered.”
“Why didn’t she tell me any of this?” Dash demanded, his anger rising.
Brenda looked at him as if he’d grown seven heads. “That was the last thing Sydney would’ve done,” she explained. “Sydney is crazy in love with you, Dash. She hadn’t told you she’d married again and that her ex had tracked her three thousand miles because she was afraid to. She didn’t know if The Creep would try to do something to hurt you.”
A sick feeling twisted his stomach. “Does he have a history of being violent? Did he ever hurt Sydney physically?”
“No, not that I know of. But the divorce happened quite a while ago—and Wake is still sending her flowers. Here. If he’s continued pursuing her after all this time, he could be obsessed. Irrational. Even dangerous. We just don’t know.”
He shook his head, still reeling from what Brenda had revealed to him—and worried sick about the woman he loved.
She grabbed his wrist and held on tightly. “That’s why she broke things off with you. It made sense to say that it was because she needed to prove herself. That she wasn’t some arm candy of yours and that you’d gotten her the job on No Regrets or that she was riding your—or even Monty’s—coattails into show business. Sydney was freaking out that somehow you’d get hurt because of her. She pushed you away to protect you—and she’s been depressed ever since. I know she’s thrived in the director’s chair, but she’s told me how lonely and unhappy her nights are.”
Dash kissed Brenda’s cheek. “Thank you for telling me. You’re right. I needed to know.”
“I better tell her that I spoke with you.”
“Not yet. Give me a little time, okay? I do want you to send her flowers for her birthday, though. The total opposite of white roses. Make the arrangement have tons of color—reds, yellows, deep purples—about as different as you can get. And no roses in it.”
“Got it.” Brenda gave him a crooked grin of approval.
“Also, don’t tell Sydney about the flowers that arrived from Wake.” When his assistant frowned, he said, “Trust me on this one,” and grudgingly extracted her promise.
Dash left the office and returned to the kitchen.
“Hey, Dash!” Herc giggled. “I ate your breakfast.”
Tim shrugged. “You didn’t come back, and Herc was hungry.”
Dash kissed the top of his brother’s head. “Thanks for doing that, Herc. It’s important not to waste food. I’m going to grab something at the studio instead.”
“We’re gonna make you a cake today, Dash,” Herc said. “Oh, wait. Was that a surprise, Tim?” His mouth turned down.
Dash ruffled Herc’s hair. “I’ll bet it’s going to be the best cake I ever ate. And you know what? Today is Sydney’s birthday, too.”
“It is? Can Sydney come eat some cake? I love Sydney. Is she back from her trip, Dash?”
He’d told Herc that Sydney had gone on a long trip that was very far away. He didn’t know how else to explain her sudden, lengthy absence. “She loves you, too, little brother. Why don’t you make a card for her?”
“Sydney would like a card. I’ll make her a card and you a card, Dash.”
“Okay, buddy.”
Dash nodded at Tim and then left the house. He climbed behind the wheel of his car and started it. As he pulled out of the driveway, he hit a button and said, “Call Rhett Corrigan.”
After three rings, Dash heard, “This better be good, DeLauria. I was about to get in the shower—with my wife.”
“Sydney’s in trouble, Rhett. Can you meet me at the studio?”
CHAPTER 25
Sydney lowered the top on her mom’s convertible. It was perfect, top-down weather—but then again, most days in LA were. She remembered how her mother used to love to take her and Birch for a ride along the Pacific Coast Highway, the wind whipping through their hair and warm sunshine enveloping them. Sydney always grew sentimental each year on her birthday, remembering how her mom loved to bake her daughter a three-layer chocolate cake and give her a princess party with a few of her classmates.
She pulled out of the circular driveway and made the short drive from her father’s place to Dash’s house. Filming had gone extremely well today and they’d finished the scheduled scenes all in one take. Sydney had dismissed the crew early and made a point to pull her star aside to wish him a happy birthday, as well as thank him for the colorful bouquet of flowers that had been delivered to the set. More than anything, she wished she could spend tonight with him—though things seemed to be looking up.
After checking in with Brenda numerous times today, no flowers of any kind had arrived at Dash’s house. Brenda finally told Sydney to quit calling so she could get some work done and that she’d contact Sydney if anything showed up. Sydney prayed that Wake had finally given up on her. With no birthday roses appearing for the first time since their divorce, it gave her hope that once filming ended, she and Dash might be able to unpress the pause button on their relationship. As it was, he’d asked her to drop by since Herc had made her a birthday card. Dash said she didn’t have to stay long but Herc would be disappointed if he couldn’t give it to her in person. She’d agreed to come by for a few minutes.
Sydney knocked at the door. A beaming Herc answered it. He hugged her tightly and took her hand, leading her back to the airy kitchen. On the table sat a lopsided mess of a cake that had been obviously made and decorated with love.
“You want to eat a piece, Sydney?” Herc asked. “It’s chocolate. Dash loves chocolate. I like strawberry and chocolate.”
“Why don’t you save it for Dash?”
“He told me he would eat it tomorrow so you can have some now if you want to.” Herc looked at her hopefully.
“Sure. I’d love to take some home with me.”
Herc insisted they light the single candle on the cake and sing happy birthday to her before Tim sliced off a generous hunk and wrapped it up for her.
“Thanks for coming by,” Tim told her. “Herc’s really missed seeing you.”
“I’ve missed him,” she said, her eyes misting over. She blinked several times. “How are you and Brenda getting along?”
The caregiver blushed. “Fine.” He hesitated. “Does she talk about me to you?”
Sydney grinned. “My lips are sealed.” She paused. “Is Brenda here?”
“No, she’s out running an errand for Dash. She’ll be back soon if you’d like to wait.”
“No, thanks, I’ve got to be somewhere.” Sydney looked over to Herc. “I’ve got to go.”
He picked up his homemade card from the table and pressed it into her hands. “For you, Sydney. Happy birthday. From me.”
She
hugged him. “Thank you, Herc. This is the nicest card I’ve ever gotten.”
Herc smiled at the compliment. “See you soon, Sydney?”
“I think so,” she told him, hoping in her heart that it would be true.
Back in her car, Sydney slipped the foil-wrapped cake into the console and started out for the Corrigans’ rental in Malibu. She wondered if Dash had been home when she came by and had avoided coming out to see her. Or what if he’d gone out to celebrate his own birthday—with another woman?
No, she didn’t think so. She still caught smoldering looks from him on the set when others were occupied with the next set-up. It was doubtful he’d go out with someone else. More than anything, Sydney believed Dash was devoted to her, despite everything she’d put him through. The fact that he’d stood up to Ron Sampson and had threatened to walk if Ron hadn’t named her as the new director on No Regrets spoke of his belief in her. That had touched her more than she could ever express to him—his faith that she could helm the production and get the best performance possible from him and the rest of the cast.
Glancing in her rearview mirror, she noticed a car that had fallen in behind her. It looked identical to one that had been behind her on the way home from Sampson Studios. Was everyone in Hollywood driving a black Lexus SUV these days?
Then paranoia gripped her by the throat.
What if Wake was having her followed?
No, she told herself. Wake had either moved on or was stumped, thanks to her name reverting back to Revere. No white roses today equaled a milestone in her book. Sydney turned the radio on and cranked up the volume. She sang along to an oldies station until she arrived at the Corrigans’ house. Pulling into the long driveway, she saw another car and figured the Camerons had arrived. She parked and went to the door.
Cassie greeted her with a warm hug. “How’s my favorite director?”
“She’s happy. We’ve caught up after the hiccups from last week. Keely’s been flawless after an early bout of nerves. It was smooth sailing today.”
They walked into the living room, which had a spectacular view of the Pacific.
