Hollywood Nights (5 page)

I shivered as I took in the immense beauty of the place. A reinforced wall rooted the home to the hillside, and the landscaping made the property appear to sit in an English garden, despite the Southern California sunlight and drought. Tanner owned one of the prettiest homes I had ever seen in Los Angeles. His sliver of Mulholland Drive belonged in its own
Architectural Digest
spread, and seeing it in person was better than what had been caught on-camera during
LA Stands for Lana
. That show hadn’t come close to showing off the classic elegance of this estate.

“Like what you see, Brynn?”

I whirled around and my cheeks flushed, embarrassed Tanner had caught me ogling the view from the property—a scenic 180-degree panorama of the skyline. From here, the buildings and smog seemed so far away, though they couldn’t have been more than a few miles. I liked that. Sometimes, the city could be so stifling. Slow and fast at the same time. A mystery city I hadn’t been able to figure out, though I’d lived there for years.

“This is a nice area,” I told Tanner as he stepped off the stone front porch and walked over to me. “Peaceful.”

He nodded. “It can be.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Three years. I bought it with—” He broke off and shook his head. “Don’t need to spoil things by talking about her. I bought it at another point in my life. When things were different.”

Lana. He could have only meant he bought the house with Lana. Lana, who needed absolutely no introduction in this town.

“Well, it’s gorgeous,” I said. “You have good taste.”

“That’s a first. Good taste and I don’t always go together.” One side of Tanner’s mouth turned upward. “Want to come inside? Dinner is almost ready.”

I followed him through a large foyer with light gray walls and featuring an open staircase trimmed in black wrought iron. He mumbled various things about the house as I took it in. Some famous architect built it in 1963, he rehabbed it when he bought it. It had five bedrooms, two and a half baths, an infinity pool in the back with a separate pool house for guests, a full dining room, a fitness center… The list seemed never-ending, and Tanner only stopped when we reached the large patio doors at the end of a living room decked out with red leather couches, with two museum-quality modern art pieces on the walls.

“I’m not bragging,” he said. “I hope you don’t see it that way.”

“You’re rich. I get it.”

“Rich is relative.” Tanner placed a hand on the silver handle at the far end of the patio doors. “Anyway, it’s a fantastic night to eat outside. I figured”—he pulled, opening the door to the crisp SoCal night air—“you wouldn’t object to this view.”

The patio doors opened up to a large stone terrace and a six-person outdoor dining table made of thick, dark mahogany. Two plates full of dark green kale salad sat adjacent to each other at the far end of the table, and each place setting had a magnificent view of the city. Two bowls of sautéed mushrooms and a bottle of white wine topped off the spread.

I eyed him. “Did you do at least some of this yourself? Slave away all day?”

Tanner put a hand on his heart. “I did. All day. Hard work.” He gave a small, throaty laugh. “Like I said, Martha makes a mean kale salad with shrimp. Actually, I haven’t had anything of hers that I haven’t enjoyed. She’s good with my, er, requirements.”

“I’m sure it’s complicated.”

“No carbs.” He wrinkled his nose. “No sugar, either. And not too much salt.”

“Just plenty of whiskey, right? And bourbon? Maybe some wine.”

He gestured to the place settings and didn’t let my sarcasm affect him. “Plenty of all those things, Brynn. Have a seat.”

I took mine and set my purse in the chair beside me. After Tanner sat down at the head of the table, he picked up the bottle of wine. “Pinot grigio. One of my favorite vintages from a little spot near Solvang called Avalon. Ever heard of it?”

I hadn’t.

Someone had already uncorked the wine, so Tanner needed to open it. “People always talk about Napa or Sonoma, but I think Central California is the best. Not as crowded, and more like how things used to be, before the wine industry only cared about the tourism dollars.”

He poured two large glasses, and after we toasted, I decided to break my silence. I couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t know me.”

Tanner took a long sip from his glass and his gaze caught mine again. “Because I can. Isn’t that enough?”

“No.”

“People don’t do nice things for you?”

I shook my head. “No. Not like this.”

“That’s a shame.”

We stared at each other for a beat.

“Well, as I said in the parking lot, I thought about how I treated you the other day, and this is a sort of peace offering,” Tanner said.

“Still not good enough.” I took my fork and picked at my salad, then stirred the tomatoes, kale, cucumbers, dressing, and almonds together. “The way you were the other day and the way you are now are like two different people.”

“I guess you could say that.” Tanner took a large bite of shrimp, his predatory gaze never leaving my face. “But I assure you, I’m the same person. A complicated one, but the same.”

I ate some of the salad and hoped the nerves twisting and turning in my stomach would subside. It didn’t work. I didn’t belong in this house with a man like Tanner, so the sooner he told me what he wanted from me, the better off we’d be. Well, the better off
I’d
be.

“I still don’t understand why you went to the trouble to invite me here,” I said. “A simple thank you and apology were enough. You certainly didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I wanted to.”

I raised my eyebrow and stared at him.

“Maybe I like your company.” Tanner popped another shrimp in his mouth, and it struck me how much control he had in this situation. His home. His territory. His food. And his decisions.

“Bullshit. You can find company anywhere you want it.” I gulped down some more wine. “So level with me. Now.”

“So stubborn.”

“One of my finer qualities.” I added a tight smile. “Are you going to answer me, or do I need to leave?”

“And how would you accomplish that?”

“I’ll call Uber. They’ll be here right away.”

He laughed. “Touché. You’re a fiery one, Brynn. I sensed that the other day in your apartment.” He sipped some more wine. “Do you like this property? Do you like what you see?”

I glanced at the magnificent view of the skyline, and then back at the house’s exterior. “Of course I do. It’s a little—a little overwhelming—but yes, I like this house.”

Another low laugh. “Good. You need to like this place.”

“Why? What does it matter what I think of this house?”

A long pause.

“You’ll need to like it if you’re going to live here.”

I
dropped my fork and it clattered against my plate, but neither of us looked at it. “Excuse me?”

Perhaps I hadn’t correctly heard him. He hadn’t invited me to live with him, had he? That didn’t make any sense. He wouldn’t do something like that. No one would. Would they?

“I don’t think I understood you,” I said.

“I said, ‘You’ll need to like it if you’re going to live here.’” The words floated out of Tanner’s mouth, plain and strong. “You don’t want to live somewhere you hate. I’ve done that before, and it sucks. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.”

“What are you saying? Why would I be living here?”

“Good question.” Tanner settled farther into his chair, sizing me up like I was a dessert he wanted to eat in thick, savory bites. “Glad you asked, and it’s simple. You’d be living here as part of an arrangement. Strictly business, and nothing else. As my employee, if you want to call it that.”

A thousand questions tumbled through my brain. Employee? Employee of what? It couldn’t be good. Did he want a servant? A sex slave? A weird, twisted plaything for his fantasies?

“Employee?” I finally said. “What do you mean?”

“Someone I pay to do things.” He cleared his throat. “The things I want, when I want.”

Oh, no. I’d heard enough. I got this kind of offer every night at Twisted. And I didn’t want it. No way. No. Freaking. Way. I wouldn’t agree to anything like that, ever. Not if he offered me ten million dollars. No wonder Tanner had been having a horrible year. His personal life had been as messed up as his public one. Maybe more.

What a weirdo.

“Good night.” I stood up from the table. “I think this conversation is over.”

“What?” He pushed his chair backward and stood up, too. “Why?”

“I’m pretty sure you can figure it out.” I picked my purse up from the chair next to me. “Listen, I’m leaving. This has been a lot of fun but—”

“You’re not leaving.”

“Watch me.” I slung the purse over my shoulder and took a few steps toward the sliding glass door, and Tanner followed me. “Like I said before, this conversation is over. I’m calling Uber.”

His hand caught my arm a second before I opened the door. “Give me a chance to explain, Brynn.”

I glanced down at his hand, then up at his intoxicating eyes. I wouldn’t allow them to draw me in, not again. I’d heard enough; I didn’t need to know more. Tanner had problems, but I knew I wouldn’t be the woman to solve them. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“You heard me.” I pulled my arm and his grip tightened. “Damn it, let me go!”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he whispered, making his deep voice throatier and sexier. “I didn’t take you for such a drama queen.”

“Well, you don’t know me well. In fact, you don’t know me at all.” I yanked my arm from his grip, once and for all.

“I hope to fix that,” he said, still whispering. “But I need you to understand two things right away. What I’m offering you isn’t about sex. It’s about business. That’s it. That’s all.”

“Whatever business this is—”

“Five hundred thousand dollars. This offer comes with five hundred thousand dollars. Cash.”

I swallowed. Hard. What? Had I heard that right? Five hundred thousand dollars?

My attention flicked over the opulent patio and gardens where we stood. That amount probably meant nothing to a multimillionaire like Tanner, but it would be a windfall for a struggling actress like me. Five hundred thousand dollars would mean freedom. My own apartment. A chance to get out from underneath the lingering credit card debt I carried from financing my way from southwestern Ohio to Los Angeles. For a while, I wouldn’t have to juggle a job I hated while I pursued my dream.

Five hundred thousand dollars would make a difference. A huge difference.

“No strings attached afterward. Do this for me—and the five hundred thousand is all yours.”

“I’m listening,” I said after a moment.

One side of Tanner’s mouth broke into a smile. “I thought that might get your attention. It’s a lot of money, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

“Enough to let you know I’m serious.” He lowered his voice. “And I mean
serious
.”

Another nod from me.

“Now, will you sit back down at the table and at least hear me out?”

“S
o let me get this straight,” I said, still incredulous and bewildered by the conversation I’d had with Tanner during the last twenty minutes. “You want to pay me to be your girlfriend. A fake girlfriend.”

Tanner sipped his third glass of wine. It didn’t seem to have any effect on him whatsoever, not even the slightest hint of a buzz. “Girlfriend…it’s all for a few months, anyway. A whirlwind love story.” He swirled his glass. “Something the tabloids can eat up like a child eating cotton candy at a baseball game.”

“And you’re serious?” A strong part of me still didn’t believe the last half hour or so had happened.

“I am. I hope I’ve made that clear.”

Pursing my lips, I stared at him. “I don’t get it. Why me? You could pay anyone to do this. Anyone. I’m sure your manager, agent, or publicist could have found someone better than a cocktail waitress from a strip club.”

“I don’t think so.” He fiddled with his fork. Neither of us had eaten much since Tanner had admitted the real reason for inviting me to his home for dinner. “You’ve read what they say about me in the press.”