Hope Smolders (15 page)

“I did. Did you have a good phone call?”

His eyes gleamed. “I did.”

Des looked around to make sure they were alone. “And how is Tony?”

“Pining away for me, as always. I wish he could be here.”

“I wish he could, too.” Des wrapped her arm around Colt’s waist. “Why don’t you just come out of the closet and be done with it already?”

They’d reached her trailer. Colt opened the door for her and Des stepped in. Colt followed and shut the door. “Oh, right. Smokin’-hot movie star who gets all the sexy roles comes out as gay.”

Des shrugged. “So? It’s the twenty-first century, Colt. And you kiss better than any leading man I’ve ever worked with. I doubt any of your future leading ladies would be deterred.”

Colt sat on her sofa, stretching out his long legs. “Thanks, babe. Tony thinks so, too.”

She laughed. “Seriously, though. We have chemistry through the roof and it shows on-screen. If you can pull that off, who cares who you love offscreen?”

“Well, I sure don’t. And you don’t. And probably most of America doesn’t give a shit, either. But my management team does care. And they say no to coming out.”

She plopped onto the sofa next to him. “I’m sorry. You should be able to live your life freely and not have to parade around with a bunch of women you don’t care about while Tony is stuck loving you behind the scenes.”

Colt let out a sigh. “I know, love. But it is what it is, and I guess it’s going to stay that way for a while. Maybe someday we’ll be able to change that.”

She pushed off and stood. “Hopefully sooner rather than later. I want you to be happy.”

“I want you to be happy, too.”

She gave him a smile. “I am happy. I’m living my dream here.”

“Sure you are.”

“Did you get dinner ordered?”

“Should be here in about fifteen.”

“Pop open a bottle of wine for us, then. I’m going to hop in the shower.”

Des stripped and got into the shower, washing away the body makeup from the day’s scenes and the sweat from her run. She thought about Colt. They’d known each other since before either of them had even gotten their first part in film, when they’d bunked together in a one-bedroom apartment in Hollywood. They’d become fast friends and had stayed that way. She’d found out right away that Colt was gay—hard to hide that kind of thing from your best friend and roommate. And when they’d started getting roles, they’d bonded and supported each others’ careers. Fortunately, they’d also been lucky enough to score roles in films together. Which, of course, made love scenes sometimes awkward to film, because as close friends, it was hard to play lovers. But they were professionals and they were actors. And because they were so close, they had a natural chemistry that lent itself well to the camera, so they worked at using that chemistry. They were comfortable together and lit up the screen. They were often linked together in the gossip circles, which Colt found hysterical.

So did Des. She didn’t mind bearding for him, and often went out to premieres and to dinner with him to give him a cover when he didn’t feel like playing the role of a straight guy with some other woman.

Until she’d met James and had started a relationship with him.

Which had recently gone up in flames. But she wasn’t going to think about him any more. He’d already wasted enough of her time. She was never going to have a relationship with another actor.

Now she was free to hook up with Colt again. At least on the surface.

She got out of the shower and put on a pair of shorts and a tank top. The smell of dinner made her stomach clench. She was hungry, so she hurriedly combed out her hair and went into the main room of the trailer, where Colt was laying out forks and plates.

“Chinese food?”

“Yeah.”

“All that salt. I love looking puffy in front of the camera.”

Colt grinned. “You couldn’t look puffy if you tried. Sit down and eat.”

They ate, sipped wine, and roughed out tomorrow’s scenes in between bites.

“I met Logan McCormack, the owner of the ranch, today,” she said as she grabbed a fortune cookie.

“Yeah? What’s he like?”

“Incredibly sexy, in a brooding, loner cowboy sort of way.”

“Really. Would I like him?”

She laughed. “I think you’d love him. And Tony would kill you.”

“Hey, I’m devoted and madly in love and you know that. Doesn’t mean I can’t ogle.”

“I invited him to the set. He said his house manager is a big fan, so he’s going to bring her tomorrow.”

“Hmm.”

She looked at Colt. “Hmm what?”

“You’re interested. Now I really can’t wait to meet him.”

“I didn’t say I was interested in him, only that he was interesting.”

“Same thing, isn’t it?”

“Not at all.” She cracked open her fortune cookie and popped a piece into her mouth as she unfolded the fortune and read it.

Your life is about to change in new and exciting ways.

She’d believe that when it happened.

“Haven’s in trouble.”

Those were words Trevor Shay never wanted to hear, especially not less than a year after the death of Haven’s dad, Bill.

Bill Briscoe had been more than just a dorm parent back in Trevor’s college days. He and his wife, Ginger, had been like substitute parents, especially to Trevor, who’d needed guidance more than the rest.

And now he sat in Ginger’s living room, in a house he’d once thought of as his second home.

Trevor had always counted on Ginger’s confidence, that smile and optimism that had assured him everything was going to be all right.

Now she just looked worried.

He picked up her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“She hasn’t been herself since Bill died. You know Haven. She’s always been upbeat, and we thought she’d come to grips with the eventuality of Bill’s death.” Ginger took a deep breath. “As we all did.”

Trevor squeezed her hand.

“It wasn’t like we didn’t know it was comin’. Bill prepared us all for it, made sure we were ready. Never thinking of himself.”

He saw the tears welling in her eyes and wished he could take them away. “I know, Miss Ginger. I know. I miss him, too.”

She grabbed a tissue. “He’d kick my butt if he saw me crying over him. But Haven, she has a great life and an amazing future. She got a job with the network as a sports journalist.”

Trevor smiled. “I heard about that.”

“It’s a great opportunity for her. One she should be seizing. I told her that her father would be so proud of her.”

“He would.”

“Instead, what is she doing? She’s thinking about quitting the job and coming back here to live with me.”

Trevor leaned back and frowned. “Coming back here? Why?”

“I don’t know. She said something about getting a job at the local TV station instead.”

“Is that what she really wants?”

“I don’t think so.” Ginger leaned forward. “Trevor, I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t even given this new job a shot. I think she’s scared, and without her dad, she feels alone for the first time in her life.”

“She’s not alone, Miss Ginger. She has you.”

“I know that. And believe me, I don’t feel slighted in the least. I know Haven loves me. I also know she’s worried about me being here all alone. I don’t want her to make a mistake and screw up the best job she might ever have because of me, and because of her fear.”

She paused, took a breath. “I was hoping you could offer me some advice, tell me what I could say to her to make her stay in her job.”

Trevor thought about it a minute. “Let me see what I can do about that.”

“Thank you. I know you’re big in the sports world, and I don’t know if there really is anything you can do for her, but gosh, I’d sure appreciate anything. Anything at all.”

An idea formed in his head. He had the pull. He could get this done. And he’d do anything for Ginger, and to honor Bill’s memory. Haven needed help, and he sure as hell was in a position to help her.

Hours later, as he sat on the plane on his way back to St. Louis, Trevor had the plan formulated. The media were constantly hounding him for an exposé on his life and career. After all, there weren’t many athletes who played multiple sports. At least not many who played them well. He’d been closed off to the idea of it for a lot of reasons.

He leaned back in his seat and smiled.

Now it was Haven’s turn to shine. And he was just the person to make it happen.

* * *

Haven tried to muster up enough saliva to swallow as she pressed the button to return the phone call she’d missed from her boss.

She knew what was on the other end of that phone call.

Her ass was going to be fired, less than six weeks after she’d gotten the job of a lifetime.

It would have been better if she could have resigned. It would have looked better on her résumé, but then again, what did she care? Her career in journalism was over anyway, right?

Never quit. Whatever
you do, Haven, never giv
e up on anything until you
’re sure you’ve given it
everything you have.

Her father’s words rang in her ears, guilt squeezing her stomach until nausea caused her fingers to pause on the call button of her phone.

It was too late to beg to keep her job. She’d already passed up multiple travel assignments, content to do the local ones, then sit in her apartment in New York, dwelling on how much she missed home, her mom.

Her dad.

This wasn’t the right career for her. She’d made a mistake accepting this job. She wasn’t cut out for the rigors of sports news—the travel, the insane schedule, the arrogant athletes.

What was she thinking? Her father hadn’t even been gone a year yet. She couldn’t do it.

Be brave, Haven. You c
an do anything, be anythi
ng you want to be. Just be happy
.

Tears pricked her eyes and she swiped them away as she replayed every conversation they’d had those last few weeks over and over in her head.

Be happy.

She didn’t know how to be happy without hearing her father’s laugh, seeing his smiling face, being able to pick up the phone and talk to him every day.

Who was she going to go to when she needed advice?

She loved her mother, and in the ways of relationships and men and things like that, she had always gone to her mom.

But her dad—he’d been her buddy. She’d learned about sports from her father, had sat next to him and watched football, baseball, hockey, and every other sport imaginable. He’d taught her balls and strikes in baseball and the difference between a post pattern and a shovel pass in football. They’d driven up to St. Louis together and taken in hockey games, and she’d never been more thrilled than to see the players blasting that puck across the ice.

She’d learned to love sports because of her dad. She’d gone after this job because of him.

And now she was going to be fired because after his death she hadn’t had the energy to do this job she’d wanted for years. For that, she had only herself to blame.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she said, then pushed the call button on her phone. “Haven. I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

She cringed as the loud and very no-nonsense voice of her boss, Chandler Adams, came on the line. “Hi, Chandler. Sorry. I got tied up.”

“Well, untie yourself. I have a job for you.”

“A . . . job?” He wasn’t firing her?

“Yeah. You know Trevor Shay, right?”

“Trevor . . . Yes, I know him.”

“Great. We’re going to do his bio. A whole feature on the life of Trevor Shay. Personal and professional. We’ve been after him for years to do this, and he’s finally agreed. And he’s asked for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah. Says you two go way back, to college.”

“Uh . . . yes. I knew him in college.”

“Then it’s a damn good thing we hired you, Haven. Pack a bag. You’ll meet him at his place in St. Louis to get everything set up. Narrative and background first, then we’ll get camera work involved later.”

Was she in some alternate universe? She hadn’t been fired. In fact, she’d just been assigned a profile of one of the biggest stars in the sports world right now.

“Okay. Sure. Thanks, Chandler.”

“No, problem. I’ll e-mail you the specs on what we’re looking for from you on this, Haven. This assignment’s going to take a while, so clear your calendar.”

“Consider it done.”

When she hung up, she sat back and stared out the window of her very tiny apartment, stunned that she hadn’t been kicked out the door. She stared at the boxes in her apartment, already half packed. She’d been mentally prepared, set in her mind that she was going to head back to Oklahoma to be near her mother, her roots.

Where memories of her dad were. Now she had to change her focus.

Why had she agreed to do this? This wasn’t what she wanted to do anymore. Was it?

She sat on the bed.

Follow your dreams,
Haven.

She still heard his voice so clearly in her head. Maybe he was trying to tell her something. She didn’t know if this was her dream anymore, but she’d agreed to take this job.

With Trevor Shay, of all people. She hadn’t seen Trevor since her dad’s funeral. She wondered how he’d react knowing it was her doing this assignment.

He’d probably ignore her, just like he had in college.

No, wait. He’d specifically asked for
her
. He’d agreed to the interviews, so this time, she wouldn’t allow him to pretend she didn’t exist.

She got up and went to her closet to grab her suitcase.

Her and Trevor Shay. God, she’d had such a crush on him in college, back when she was tutoring him. All those nights they’d spent shoulder to shoulder, when she’d done her best to try and convince him to focus on his books when all she’d really wanted was for him to notice her as a woman.

He’d been more interested in trying to finagle a way to get her to do his homework. Now she was going to be in the driver’s seat.

She stared out over the boxes, debating whether to unpack them.

She’d leave them, see how this assignment went. If it didn’t work out, if it didn’t light the fire under her after a few days, she’d call Chandler and tell hi
m
she was out.

But she’d give it a try. For her dad.