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The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1

Page 33

by Danielle Stewart


  Jessica was giving up. This could end up disastrous for Evie. She would earn herself a reputation she’d have a hard time shaking. Her folks back home surely wouldn’t approve of this.

  “Mathew,” Jessica said loudly into the phone. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes, where are you?” he asked with worry in his voice. Worry, but warmth, something she wasn’t sure he’d give her after their last argument. She knew Mathew would come, but it didn’t mean he’d be happy to see her.

  “Club Bluestones. Listen, I’m so sorry to do this but I need some help.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he said, and she could hear him moving quickly to get himself out the door.

  “I didn’t even tell you what it was,” Jessica said through a smile. “How do you know you want to help me yet?”

  “I’ll be right there,” he said again and hung up.

  Seeing no other choice, Jessica lifted herself onto the table and leaned in to talk to a dancing Evie, who took this as an invitation to get her to dance too.

  “No,” Jessica said flatly, turning her limbs into statues. “I’m not here to dance. My friend is on his way to pick us up. He’s going to take us both home.”

  “He?” Evie asked with a wry smile. “Is he a hot he?”

  “Just a friend,” Jessica shouted.

  “So if I think he’s a hot he, I can have him?”

  “No!” Jessica spat out feeling the urge to suddenly shove Evie off the table. Well that had come out of nowhere. “I mean no, he’s not someone you want to get involved with.”

  “Another jerk?” Evie asked, looking disappointed like the whole world was off limits.

  “No, he’s not a jerk. He’s a gentleman actually. Dependable. Loyal. Strong.” Jessica’s eyes fell to her sparkly silver shoes, and she felt sick. It wasn’t the booze doing it either. Mathew was all those things and more. And she’d taken him along on this ride to her own redemption without so much as a decent explanation to what she was doing.

  “In love with you?” Evie asked, clapping her hands together in excitement.

  “Complicated,” Jessica yelled back as the music seemed to grow louder.

  “Love isn’t complicated.”

  “You’re right, it’s not. But I am.”

  “Oh stop. I’m going to tell him you love him when he gets here.” A devilish smile curled Evie’s delicate pink lips, and it made Jessica laugh.

  “Okay,” Jessica resigned, watching the door and praying Mathew would get here before this could spiral anymore out of control.

  “I’m going to tell him you love him and you want to marry him and have his babies.”

  “You can,” Jessica shrugged just glad Evie was coherent and not chugging down another drink.

  “You don’t care if I do?” The excitement on her face was adorable and reminded Jessica of how fun it was to be this young. Back before you knew how real shit could get.

  “You’re so drunk you’ll either be puking out the car window or passed out. I’m not worried about what you think you’ll be saying.”

  “You’re crazy,” Evie laughed waving off the idea. “I’m totally fine. I feel like a million—” A hiccup punctuated her half sentence and a flash of unease moved over her face.

  “Exactly!”

  Chapter 21

  “I really appreciate this,” Jessica said sheepishly as Mathew carried Evie up the stairs. “I don’t want to dump her off at her place. I figure at least if she’s at my place I can keep an eye on her and make sure she gets to the set on time tomorrow.”

  “You’ll have a nice slumber party,” Mathew said through a grunt as he shifted Evie’s weight. “Hopefully she doesn’t get too sick for you.”

  “I’m sure she will. She was mixing all sorts of stuff. At one point she was chasing shots with red wine. Just think about that for a minute.”

  Mathew twisted his face up in disgust. “Doesn’t she know better?”

  “Fresh off the plane from the Midwest, some tiny town with nothing to do. I figured she’d let her hair down but not this bad. It’ll be a long night, but at least she’s safe,” Jessica said as she pushed open her door and gestured for him to put her down on the bed.

  “I can stay,” he offered, the moment between them so thick with unspoken thoughts it felt like it might crush her. Apologies always lodged in her throat awkwardly. If she held out long enough the other person would come around, and she could swallow back the words she never wanted to say. But she felt like she owed Mathew something even if it wasn’t an apology. He deserved to hear more from her than just the sour goodbye she gave him last time.

  “I’m sorry she kissed you,” Jessica said, not able to contain the laugh or commit to his offer to stay over.

  “I’m glad you think that’s funny,” he groaned, wiping again at his lips, checking for her lipstick. “She caught me off guard. I thought she was slipping off that table not jumping into my arms.”

  “She’s a good kid, she’s just on overload with all the opportunities here for her. I guess she saw you as one.”

  “I’m not,” he said, staring at her intently now.

  “She’s a nice girl, maybe you should give her a chance.” The smile hadn’t slid away yet. She missed teasing him.

  “I don’t want to give her a chance,” Mathew said, closing in on Jessica. “There’s no one else I want to give a chance.”

  “I had dinner with Pierre tonight,” Jessica blurted out. “I wanted you to know that. I don’t want you to think I’m lying to you about anything.”

  “You don’t owe me the truth. If you want to go to dinner with him, you can do whatever you want.” His anger was not well hidden as he turned his face to stone. The shutters of his eyes closed tightly to hide any other emotions that might slip out into the world.

  “I’m not trying to hurt you,” she pleaded. “Really I wish I could explain it to you better.”

  “No need to,” he said, stepping backwards. “I hope you get some sleep tonight.”

  “Mathew,” she yelped, grabbing his arm before he could turn away completely. “I called you tonight, when I was in trouble you’re the guy I knew would show up. I just need time.”

  “Goodnight, Jessica,” he said, turning toward her and kissing her passionately on the lips. Her arms laced around his neck, snaring him as his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass.

  “Ugh,” Evie’s voice rang out from the bed.

  “You need to get her a bucket,” Mathew said as he pulled away. “She’s going to puke on your floor.”

  Reluctantly she let him go. Watched him walk away and close the door behind him. Another night without him. Another night not really knowing where they stood. She felt absolutely . . . the sound of Evie’s vomit hitting her floor summed it up perfectly.

  “Yep,” she said out loud. “I feel just like that.”

  Chapter 22

  “My head,” Evie groaned as she gingerly lowered herself into Jessica’s makeup chair. “I’m never going to make it through this day.”

  “You’ll be fine. I can work a lot of magic with this makeup. No one will be able to tell you’re hungover.” Jessica looked closely at the canvas she had to work with. The circles under the eyes would need extra concealer but otherwise it was all very manageable.

  “Even if you make me look good you can’t make me feel any better.” Evie clutched her stomach and groaned again. “I’m just glad you brought me in this morning, and I didn’t have to see Emmitt. I’m sure he’d be making plenty of jokes right now.”

  “Where is Emmitt? I thought he wasn’t supposed to let you out of his sight?”

  “I guess there were protestors on the back lot this morning. The other security guards asked him to come do some crowd control. He called and told me he’d be here once it was resolved.”

  “Protestors?” Jessica asked, wracking her brain for a reason they might be there. “This is a pretty straightforward action movie. What would they be protesting?”
/>   “Don’t know,” she said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She was still teetering on the edge of sickness.

  “Why don’t you go splash some water on your face and grab a couple of the migraine pills I have in the bathroom. There’s all sorts of good stuff in there for hangovers too. You wouldn’t believe how many people sit in this chair feeling exactly like you do now.”

  “I feel terrible for putting you through that last night. How did we even get back to your apartment?” Evie’s hand rested on her head, and she rubbed her throbbing temple.

  “I called a friend of mine. He carried you out. You probably don’t remember. It worked out fine though. It’s happened to all of us.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Evie said, slapping a hand to her forehead as she made her way to the bathroom. “Did I kiss him? I think I kissed him.”

  “You did,” Jessica laughed. “But it was harmless. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you dating him? At first I thought you were dating Pierre. Then you cleared that up. But please tell me you aren’t dating the guy I kissed.”

  “What would make you think I was dating Pierre?” Jessica didn’t mean to shoot an arrow of anger at the poor girl, but she fired anyway. “I’m curious about that because I really try to make sure it’s apparent I don’t care for him.”

  “Um, I don’t know. He seems to really pay a lot of attention to you. He talked about your history and stuff. At dinner I thought you just didn’t want me to feel left out. That’s why I told you to stay and eat with him. I mean any girl I know would be so jealous of you.”

  “Pierre and I are not dating. We haven’t dated for a very long time. When I wanted to leave dinner last night it was because I have absolutely no desire to be around Pierre at all. I don’t have a very high opinion of him.” It was hard to refrain from bashing him further, but he was still Evie’s boss and the link to her future.

  “I feel terrible now that I encouraged you to stay. I didn’t know you didn’t like him.”

  “It’s not just that I don’t like him. I was in love with him, and he was married with children. I didn’t know that. It crushed me. And he’s the same old Pierre.”

  “Why take the job if you knew he hadn’t changed?”

  “It’s hard to explain. I guess I didn’t care whether or not he was different, I needed to know I was.”

  “I’m really sorry I read that wrong. My dad always tells me I’m a terrible judge of character. I can never spot a rat.”

  “You’re young. You’ll figure it out for yourself, but until you do try to keep your guard up a little better. You are a very open person, and it’s lovely, but it won’t serve you as well here as it did back home.”

  “It didn’t serve me that well back home,” Evie admitted with a wash of mysterious sadness falling over her. “I’ll be out in a minute,” she chirped, forcing herself to brighten while she slipped into the bathroom.

  The trailer door swung open and Pierre floated in as though carried by his own excitement. “Just who I was looking for. I heard my lead actress won’t be here this morning. And her bodyguard is tied up dealing with something at the gate. We have an empty trailer to talk.”

  “The protestors at the gate,” Jessica said, forcing herself not to glance over at the bathroom to give away the fact that Evie was inside. With any luck the girl would realize she looked like hell and smelled like a bar and wouldn’t come out right now. “There’s nothing on this movie set to protest. Should I assume your people rustled them up? A PR stunt?”

  “No press is bad press and a distraction leaves me exactly what I was hoping for. This moment.”

  “And what’s so special about right now?” Her body felt tense as she watched Pierre slither closer to her an inch at a time. There was something slightly different about him this morning. Even more arrogance, if that was possible.

  “Don’t you know? Haven’t you looked at the calendar? It’s our anniversary. The day I first walked into a trailer and saw you. My life has never been the same. Last night, sitting across from you at dinner, it was perfect. But then you left. I sat in my lonely apartment. I couldn’t breathe.” He raised a hand to his chest and exaggerated his breathing as though it were a struggle. “My heart just kept beating to your name. Jass-E-Caah.” He thumped his hand to his chest to the rhythm as he spoke. “But today is different. Close your eyes and remember that first day.”

  She laughed, the idea of his tactics once working on her felt absurd now. “This is getting old, Pierre. As a matter of fact, it’s so old that I’m done with it. I appreciate the opportunity for the job, but I’m not spending my days like this. Give me an hour, and I’ll have my makeup cleaned out of here.”

  “Stop,” he laughed dismissively. “Tell me you didn’t dream of me last night. Tell me you didn’t crawl into your bed and think of every time I’ve touched you. Every time I showed you something brand new in bed you’d never seen before. You grew up in my bed, so I know last night in yours you were thinking of me.”

  “No,” she said, twisting her face up as though she were pondering the idea. “Actually there was a woman in my bed with me last night, and she was better company than you ever were.”

  “You dreamed of me,” he insisted.

  “I haven’t had a nightmare like that in ages.”

  “Feisty girl,” he hissed as he stepped closer to her. “You need to know I can’t live without you.”

  “Then kill yourself.” There was no smile on her face, no lightening of the moment. She knew Pierre wasn’t here to physically force himself on her. That was not his style. He would use his words, probing for a weakness, a soft spot to infiltrate her mind and convince her he knew best. He would try to wear her down until she decided he was right.

  “Come to me,” he pleaded softly. “Let me kiss you, just once, just for a moment, and tell me you feel nothing.” His arms stretched wide as he stepped in closer. “If you do that and you can look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing, I will leave you alone.”

  “You’ll feel something if you don’t leave. Just go. I’m done here. I quit and I’ll be on my way.” It would be easy to lie to herself and say a kiss with Pierre would mean nothing. That her body would not respond and with a clean conscience she could tell him he was wrong. But the brain and the heart are mysterious things. They are woven together with threads of memories and pain. She kissed Pierre during some of the happiest moments of her life; who could say what her brain would do if she kissed him now? Even if she didn’t want to be with him. Even if she didn’t need him in her life, the kiss was still a variable in the game she wasn’t willing to play.

  “On your way where? Do you really want to wreck your career again over this? Who will work with you when the rumors fly that you are a diva, a pain in the ass. You want to be stuck in Texas forever? You are too much for this city. Too special. Let me take you from it. Come out to L.A. with me and live the life you were always meant to live.”

  “If I wanted to leave Texas, I could do it on my own. If you want to ruin my career, I can’t stop you, but I’m not sure how you’ll convince yourself you love me then. There is a problem with your logic.”

  “It’s not a threat,” Pierre corrected with that surprised and insulted look he saved for such an occasion. “It’s pleading with you to be all you are meant to be. And to do it with me. I’m not trying to punish you; I’m trying to save you.”

  “Back up. No actually just leave.” She pointed at the door and gave him a stern unwavering look.

  “Jessica,” he growled, drawing the word out. “I can’t keep this pent-up anymore. Why are you doing this to me? I am thinking only of you, I’m . . . you know, excited all the time. Since the moment I saw you. You can’t keep me in this state.”

  She didn’t bother glancing down at the bulge in his pants. Guilt regarding a man’s erection was a younger girl’s game. She’d long since stopped feeling bad about guys’ hard-ons being her fault.

  “I could have any
girl. I could have that nitwit you’ll have in your makeup chair when she sobers up and comes in. You see the way she looks at me, don’t you? But I want you. Not some idiot.”

  Jessica could have shoved him as he moved the final inches toward her, but what would be the point? Like a mindless zombie he’d just keep coming. He’d keep talking and trying to hypnotize her. There had to be a more permanent solution. Glancing quickly behind her she clutched the handle of her curling iron. Should she press it to his cheek, his neck? Or . . . hey, he’d been the one to bring up his pulsing desire. If he wanted it touched so badly, she’d oblige.

  She heard the bathroom door yank open and was pretty sure Evie had something to say, but her ears were ringing too loudly for it to register. The adrenaline coursing through her body made the rest of the world disappear.

  With a quick shift of position she shot the hot iron downward and against his pants. He yelped like a cartoon character, and she fought the urge to laugh, half expecting steam to come shooting from his ears.

  “Are you crazy?” he choked out as he stumbled backward to the door. “Are you fucking crazy? You burned me. I’m calling the police.”

  “Jessica,” Evie asked, sidling up and yanking the curling iron away from her. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” Pierre barked, not noticing that Evie wasn’t talking to him. “I’m calling the police,” he called over his shoulder as he stumbled out of the trailer.

  “Holy shit,” Jessica said as her chest filled with incredible warmth. “I can’t believe I did that.”

  “Why are you smiling?” Evie asked, jumping as the door flew open again.

  “What the hell happened?” Emmitt asked breathlessly, but Jessica still didn’t care to hear anything but the excitement in her own head.

  “I burned him in the junk with my curling iron,” Jessica announced through a giggle. “I think I heard it sizzle.”

  “He’s going to call the police,” Evie cut in, trying to bring some rational thinking back to the conversation.

 

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