Heartthrob (36 page)

Jed had been doing laps around their New York City hotel suite, but now he sank back onto the couch, surrounded by scripts his agent, Ron Stapleton, had hand delivered.

They’d arrived late last night, at nearly two
A.M.
, and had gotten up mere hours later for an early-morning radio talk show. They’d gone from one interview to the next all morning long, had lunch with an exec from the studio who’d picked up
Mean Time’s
distribution, and then been interviewed some more.

Jed was wearing all black—black suit, black shirt, black tie, black shoes. With his long dark, shiny hair down loose around his shoulders and the slightest hint of stubble on his chin, he looked exactly like what he was—a movie star.

But right now he looked like an exhausted movie star. He was still recovering from that nasty sinus infection that had knocked him out only a few days ago.

Still, he managed to smile as she hung up the phone. “They want me to be the next Batman.”

“Really?” Kate couldn’t keep the surprise out of her
voice. She was surprised he’d even consider taking such an overdone role, not surprised they’d offer it to him.

But surprise was the emotional flavor of the day, that was for sure. In fact, she’d pretty much been in shock since, sitting in the radio station, listening to one of Jed’s interviews, she’d heard him matter-of-factly respond to a question about his personal life by stating no, he wasn’t currently involved with anyone.

Kate had sat there, totally blown away by the possibility that. Jed might’ve believed what he’d said. For all the physical pleasures and seeming intimacies they shared, he could well consider himself not involved with her.

And that shook her to the core.

Production on
The Promise
was going to be completed in a matter of weeks. Then she would spend her time between Boston and L.A., overseeing postproduction. And Jed would move on to his next project.

This affair of theirs had had an end date right from the start. If Kate had stopped to think about it logically, she would have realized saying good-bye to Jericho was to be expected. What she hadn’t expected was to feel so awful.

What was happening here, in New York City, was simply the beginning of the end.

“Do you really want to be Batman?” she asked him carefully, suddenly unable to guess his answer.

He’d spent the entire morning in the spotlight, in Jericho Beaumont mode—smile wide, charisma on stun. She could imagine Jericho accepting the high-profile role, not for the artistic challenge, but because it would propel him back to A-list status instantly.

But he gave her an incredulous look. “No way. The offer’s flattering, but no thanks. Not after playing Laramie.”

Kate sat down across from him, slipping out of her heels and tucking her feet underneath her skirt. “Jed, I have to ask you something.”

Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was certain he could hear it. She sat for a minute looking down at the floor, praying that she wouldn’t sound desperate, or possessive, or frightened, but unable to find any words at all.

“I’m a little confused by something you said in your radio interview today.” There. That was a good start. It wasn’t accusatory. It placed the potential blame on her rather than him.
She
was confused.
She
was the probable cause of the confusion. “I know I’ve never really asked you for your definition of involved, but …” She forced a smile as she looked up at him and tried to make her voice light. “Call me old-fashioned, but when I get to the point in a relationship when I’m sleeping with a man every single night, well, at that time, I pretty much figure we’re involved. Rather intensely involved, if you want to know the truth.”

“Oh, my God.” As Kate watched, a flurry of emotions crossed Jed’s face, ending with intense concern. It was pure Laramie. “Have you been walking around since this morning, thinking I don’t think we’re involved?” He rubbed his forehead as if his head ached. “Kate, my God …” He looked up at her. “Why didn’t you say something?”

She sat there, wondering if his staggering disbelief was real or just an act, and hating herself for wondering that. “I’m saying something now.”

He held her gaze steadily. “I thought I was doing what you wanted by not talking about us—I thought you wouldn’t want anyone to know we’re together.”

He was so sincere. But he’d been sincere during his interview. He was an actor, for crying out loud. Everything he said, every move he made could be just that—an act.

She would never really know for sure.

Not ever.

She should be glad this relationship was destined to end.

“I’m sorry,” he continued. “I seriously thought you’d prefer to keep it quiet.”

“I did,” she said. “I do. I guess, I …” He’d completely transformed himself into Laramie—down to the tiredness that lined his face. Kate faltered. Had she ever seen the real Jed? Or had he always just flip-flopped between Jericho and Laramie? “I guess I’m just a little insecure all of a sudden.” She tried to smile. “I mean, look at you. Suddenly the tide has turned. You’re surrounded by scripts. If you read one you like, the part is yours. You can handpick your next project.” She tried to laugh. “I can’t threaten to fire you anymore. If I do, you always have the option to go be Batman.”

He stood up. “I’ve got to be at the TV studio in less than three hours for Letterman. If we take a nap now, we can get two solid hours of sleep.” He smiled at her. “Well, maybe ninety minutes. What do you say?”

Kate let him take her hand and lead her into the bedroom, knowing she was powerless and pathetic, and that she would agree to be with him, to take whatever he offered for as long as she could have him.

She might have managed to fool him into thinking that she wasn’t feeling desperate, but she hadn’t fooled herself.

The phone rang.

He’d only been asleep for five minutes. Less. Just long enough for him to feel really bad at being woken up. Kate stirred as he reached for the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Jericho?”

He closed his eyes. It was his agent. Ron. “Yeah.”

“God, you sound awful.”

“I’m asleep. I
was
asleep.”

“Well, wake up. I’m down at the hotel bar, and you’ll never guess who’s here with me.”

Ron took his silence for the surrender it was. “I’m here with Charlee Reed. She wants to talk to you about her next project.”

“Holy
shit
!” Jed sat up, head throbbing, but indisputably wide awake.

Kate’s eyes opened. “Everything all right?”

On the other end of the phone, Ron laughed. “Get your butt down here, pal, on the double. Don’t keep Charlee waiting.”

Jericho hung up the phone and climbed out of bed. “Ron has Charlee Reed downstairs. She wants me for her next project.”

Kate sat up. “Jed, that’s great! Is she directing or just acting?”

“I don’t know.” Jed searched for his shirt. “Get dressed and come down to the bar with me.”

She lay back and stretched. “I need to shower.” She smiled sleepily. “I smell like sex.”

She looked like some kind of amazing wet dream as she lay there, naked and entangled in the sheets. He wanted to climb back into bed and kiss her until she begged him in her incredible, sexy, breathless voice to press himself deeply inside of her, and carry them both over the edge again.

But that wasn’t all that he wanted. He wanted to hold her, just hold her in his arms until all the uncertainty and fearful mistrust he’d seen in her eyes had vanished for good.

What were the odds of that ever happening?

He pulled on his shoes, suddenly dizzy as a wave of fatigue hit him. Damn, he still wasn’t over this sinus thing, and the short time he’d slept only made him feel worse. His head was pounding. It was hardly perfect conditions for meeting Hollywood’s biggest female star. But he had to take the meeting while he could.

Jed ran a comb through his hair then kissed Kate quickly. “Shower and meet me down there.”

Kate cursed herself for being a coward as she peered around a potted plant.

Yes, that was definitely Charlee Reed sitting next to Jed, her trademark red curls cascading gloriously down her back. She was young, talented, smart, and very, very beautiful. She was slim, with the kind of figure that didn’t require a bra. And she wasn’t wearing one beneath her T-shirt—a fact Kate felt certain Jed hadn’t missed.

Charlee Reed had pert athletic breasts—the kind that made Kate feel as if she herself needed a forklift.

As Kate watched from the safety of the potted fern, Jericho—and he was difinitely Jericho right now—listened intently to Charlee. Even in repose, he had his charisma set to kill. He looked like a living dream—his hair pulled back into a casual ponytail, dressed in a black shirt that hugged his upper body, his eyelashes four miles long, his cheekbones and lips a work of art. He laughed at something Charlee said, and every woman in the entire bar stopped to look at him. And why not? Kate wasn’t the only one who thought Jericho Beaumont was the sexiest man in the universe.

Charlee looked as if she were in complete agreement with the rest of the world’s female population. Her chin in her hand, elbow on the table, it was her turn to listen as Jericho spoke. She seemed fascinated by his mouth …

This was really stupid.

Standing here like this, hiding behind the fern was stupendously stupid. Kate should walk around the corner and join her lover and his business associates for brunch. Heck, she’d always wanted to meet Charlee Reed herself.

Kate took a deep breath.

And stayed securely behind the fern.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go in there and sit at that table, and pretend the fact that Charlee was dying to work with Jericho didn’t bother her. She couldn’t sit there and pretend it didn’t matter that Jericho’s feelings seemed to be extremely mutual.

It was possible he would go directly from Kate’s set to Charlee’s set. And straight from Kate’s bed to Charlee’s.

And she would not sit and pretend to smile at Charlee. It felt far too much as if she were running a relay race, hitting her mark and passing the baton to the next runner in line.

As she watched, Charlee excused herself. She left the table and headed for the ladies’ room, heading directly past the fern, close enough for Kate to get a whiff of her perfume. She wore a Gap scent. Ocean. One of Jed’s favorites.

Now was the time to go in there and tell him she wouldn’t be able to stay—pretend she had too many calls to return back in the room. But before she could extract herself from the fern, he put his head into his hands.

Jericho Beaumont was gone. The man in the chair was exhausted—his energy completely drained.

Kate wasn’t close enough to hear their conversation, but Ron reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and extracted…

A pill bottle?

He opened it, shook several into Jed’s outstretched. hand. As Kate watched, Jed washed the pills down with some water.

Kate was aware of Charlee walking back into the bar only from the scent of Ocean that wafted past. She stood there, behind the fern, for a very long time.

Jericho was flying.

Kate sank onto the couch, exhausted, watching him ping-pong around the trailer. He left a message on David’s machine, made them both a salad, and ran through his lines for the coming morning, all the while going a thousand miles an hour.

Somehow, despite his intense fatigue, he’d managed to give two hundred percent during the taping of his appearance on Letterman. He was completely on the entire time.
He’d been the perfect guest, funny, bright, and energetic—with a humorous story he’d obviously prepared about the filming of
Mean Time.

Somehow?

Kate closed her eyes, trying to block the image of Ron reaching into his pocket for a pill bottle and Jed holding out his hand.

Jed had told her on the plane that Charlee Reed had taken time off from her honeymoon to meet with him. She should have felt relieved—the famous actress had just gotten married to English film director Rufus Poole. There had been nothing for Kate to be jealous about.

But that no longer mattered. Nothing mattered—except the fact she’d seen Jed take some kind of pills, pills that had given him a renewed burst of energy.

He sat down next to her now. “You look wiped. We should go to bed.”

Kate gazed into his beautiful eyes, and in that moment, she knew that all this time she’d been lying to herself. She loved him. And if she weren’t very careful, she would love him so much that she wouldn’t be able to breathe. And then she would be doomed. Because how in God’s name would she be able to go back to her old mediocre life, the way it was without him, if she let him become as important to her as the very air around her?

“Before we go to bed, I need you to do something for me,” she told him, unable to keep her voice from shaking. She pushed herself off of the couch and went into the tiny kitchen, opening the cabinet.

Jed knew what she was getting before she pulled it out. As she turned, she could see disbelief written clearly on his face.

“You want me to take a drug test?” He spoke very softly, but she could see anger in his eyes. Anger, and outrage. And a very, very deep hurt.

She couldn’t look at him. “I’m just doing my job. Protecting my movie.” And protecting her heart. She needed something to keep some distance between them. “Jed, I saw you with Ron today, down in the bar. I saw him give you some pills.”

“Aspirin.” He spoke clearly, precisely, calmly, fighting to control his anger. “He gave me
aspirin.
”

She clutched the plastic-wrapped test kit. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Yes.” Jed laughed in disbelief. “Shit, I thought you were starting to trust me.”

“All right,” she said. “I trust you. I believe you.” She held out the test kit. “Now, go prove me right.”

He took the test kit from her hand. But instead of going into the bathroom, he turned and walked out of the trailer.

Jed picked up the shot glass. He inhaled the familiar scent, but didn’t bring it to his lips. He wanted to, though.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a drink this badly.