At the overlook, I led her carefully down the embankment to the boulder where Erica and I had sat. The sun would be setting within the hour. I flashed her a grin.
“What do you think?” I asked, taking inventory of her expression as she looked out at the horizon, spotted with shrubs, evergreen plants, and more colors than a Picasso painting.
“Wow,” she breathed, her jewel-like green eyes tracking across the sunlit, scorched scenery. “It’s so picturesque. This is beautiful, Garrick.”
“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” I countered with a squeeze to her hand.
She rolled her eyes with a beaming grin as I tugged her down to sit beside me on the smooth boulder.
“So,” she said, turning toward me a bit, our knees bumping up against one other. She glanced down at the contact and peered back up at me through her luscious black lashes, freckle dusted cheeks tinted a light pink, unintentionally seductive in every way.
I swallowed dryly.
“So,” I parroted. I used to hate that word. But when she said it, it sounded like a symphony.
“Tell me about you,” she encouraged.
I shook my head. “Nah. I’ve had my fill of talking about myself for a while. I want to know about you.” Gently I bumped up against her shoulder. Was now a good time? “I know about your father now, and that he’s a little overbearing?”
She cringed, shrugging her shoulders. “That may be a bit of an understatement.”
Assuming a lopsided frown, I wondered if I had broached the wrong subject first. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“What?” she whispered, facing me with a startled expression.
I blinked. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” she corrected. “The part where you called me…”
“Baby?” I finished, tilting my head with an incredulous smirk on my face. Judging by her reaction, I’d be using it a lot more in the future.
“Yeah.” She stared at me as though dazed, the distant look on her face suggesting a visit to a memory. “You said it… as though you meant it.”
“I do.” I snorted playfully.
“You usually say it like a general term for all women.”
My eyebrows jumped up. “You’ve been keeping track of the way I say words?”
“Not really,” she muttered, followed by a lengthy sip of her coffee. I found my attention fixed on her throat, desperately desiring to lavish it with kisses. “It’s just easy to pick up when one of them changes.”
“You’re one in a million, Gwen. I’d never rope you in with all women.” With that, I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips, lingering as I felt her melt against me.
“You’re a lot different than I thought you’d be,” she whispered when the embrace ended.
“Why are we back on the subject of me?” I laughed.
Gwen’s smile thawed, mellowing out as she turned her attention to the horizon here the sun sat halfway dunked behind the distant mesas. “I was born in San Marino, California. I attended an all-girls Catholic school through high school.”
I let out a low whistle. “You suffering from the Catholic Schoolgirl Syndrome? Because I have a feeling I can help you with that.”
“Shut up, perv,” she joked with a giggle. “My first pet was a black lab named Destiny. I love dogs, Sephora, and shopping via catalogue. My guilty pleasures are Forever 21, The Big Bang Theory, and cheap costume jewelry.”
“Doesn’t seem all that bad to me. What about boyfriends, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She stiffened slightly. “I had a high school boyfriend, but that fizzled out soon enough. And after that…” She cleared her throat, looking decidedly uneasy. “I didn’t date much.”
“But?”
She glanced at me, her eyes suddenly filled with fear.
I cupped her cheek. “It’s okay. Tell me.”
“On
Diamond Eyes
. I got involved with my leading man. I—I—” She closed her eyes and shook her head in obvious self-disgust. “I believed him when he said his marriage was over. But it wasn’t.”
When I said nothing, she opened her eyes. I hated the fear I still saw there.
“So you made a mistake. Love makes us do stupid things.”
She swallowed hard. “What did it make you do?”
It was my turn to take a large gulp of my mocha, after which I carded my fingers though and then mussed my hair. “It made me believe in a girl whose faithfulness was as fake as the rest of her.”
“You don’t still have feelings for her?”
I laughed harshly. “Feelings, yes. Good ones, no. I don’t want her in my life. I have no interest in her or her games.”
A look of relief washed over Gwen’s face. Reaching up, she hooked her glossy black-brown hair behind her ear and swept what remained over her shoulder, cascading down her back. I realized that I hadn’t told her everything the night we talked about my past. On top of leaving out the part about Dominic, I also conveniently forgot to mention that I had stood a week away from proposing to Rachel. However, those were not things she needed to know at the moment. The only time I would have to tell her one or both, to my nearest prediction, was if she ever came to meet my family. I had never brought a girl home after Rachel. My poor mother would probably die of shock.
I reached over, slipped my hand into Gwen’s, then leaned in and stole another kiss. She pulled me closer, giggling.
Gwen
Still giddy from my date with Garrick the evening before, I grinned all the way to the hotel gym. When I got there, I took to the machines, clad in a sports bra and yoga pants. I’d also brought a light sports coat too—something I would don for my journey back up to my hotel room.
I never went overboard when it came to exercise. My father had always taught me that women should keep their feminine shapes and leave the heavy lifting to the men. However, I did light weight bearing exercise and a few miles on the treadmill to keep me fit.
Blissfully, I had the place to myself and could blast all the sappy, romantic music from my earbuds that I desired without the potential of being disturbed. I could replay the memories of the night before all I wanted and I did, making the warm blood pumping through my veins race faster and pool south. Once Garrick and I had slipped back into Max’s car, we drove down to the foothills where we parked for another half an hour and fooled around.
It had been heaven.
After I finished running, I snatched my towel from the handlebar and wiped down the machine. To cool down, I did a few stretches in front of the wall-sized mirror. Even after a workout, I felt gorgeous. I felt gorgeous because whenever I closed my eyes, Garrick was smiling back at me, touching me with his mind, his hands, and his laughter.
I couldn’t wait to see him again.
Sorely in need of a shower, I slipped into my black sports jacket, glad I had thrown my hair up into a messy bun to avoid the sweat on my back. The jacket clung to me, feeling strangely cold and uncomfortable.
I took my keycard, towel, and water bottle and made my exit. On my way past the lobby, I heard a voice that grated on my nerves with unnatural effortlessness.
“Hi. I’m here to see Garrick Maze. Can you tell me which room he’s staying in?”
“I’m sorry, miss,” replied to concierge, “but we’re not allowed to give out the room numbers of our customers.”
My memory flashed back to the girl in the parking lot. I had to see this for myself. I crept across the hall in my sneakers and peered around the corner. Sure enough, standing on the receiving end of the front desk was the Barbie I had seen talking to Garrick.
Rachel,
I recalled.
“Oh, he’s expecting me,” Rachel assured the suited man.
She’s expected?
A pang of worry wormed its way into my chest. Garrick couldn’t still be seeing her, could he?
“Then I’m going to have to suggest you phone him and inquire, miss.”
“Admittedly, I don’t have his number. He told me to meet him here. May I call up to his room?”
I gritted my teeth together, rage radiating with the sweat of every pore.
You stay away from him, you two timing plastic bitch.
“Unfortunately, he had his room telephone turned off the day before yesterday. The number was leaked and he had an influx of fan calls.”
That answered my query as loud as an air horn. She must have been stalking him. I was willing to bet every penny of my savings that Rachel had been the one blowing up the line.
Expected, my butt.
How in the world had she gotten his hotel room number though?
Garnering my courage, I stepped out from my corner and strolled across the lobby. “Hello, there,” I said cheerfully.
Rachel spun around to face me, thick lip liner and all. After giving me a once over, she acted like I wasn’t worth her time.
“Sorry. You probably don’t recognize me. My name is Gwen Vickers.” Coming to a halt before her, I companionably extended my hand. Women didn’t fight with fists. They fought through their eyes and through their words—something my mother had drilled into me. And I was going to stand my ground where Garrick was concerned, especially in the face of a toxic person like Rachel.
I didn’t want to give away that I knew her name, because that would reveal Garrick had been talking about her, which wouldn’t convey the right message.
“Oh!” Rachel exclaimed, donning a false smile. “No. I didn’t.” Her eyes darted to my hand. Instead of taking it, she hooked her hair behind her ear. “I’m Rachel. Just come from the gym?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” I answered, dropping my hand. “Not afraid of a little sweat, are you? Just means you put in a good effort.”
“Oh, I put in great effort,” she assured me in a syrupy voice I could have worn sat underscored by a threat.
“Look. I know we’ve never met.” I shifted my weight, jutting on hip out as I crossed my arms. “But Garrick’s a good friend of mine. And I think you should stay away from him.”
“Do you?” she purred.
“Yes. Did I stutter, dear?”
She canted her head, appraising. “What are you? His girlfriend? Are you the little cutie he was harping about in the parking lot? I thought it may have been you. That other twig bitch was a bit too skinny.”
I narrowed my eyes viciously, wishing I could sock her in the face. “Erica is a gorgeous and wonderful person. Furthermore, she’s also a millionaire.”
Rachel pursed her lips, staring me down the way a vulture would its dying meal. I knew that would get her goat. Money always did with girls like her.
“I’ll only say this once more.” I dared a step forward. “Stay away from Garrick. He doesn’t need you in his life.”
“Yes he does,” she defended.
Flatly, and quite insincerely, I smiled. “Then why hasn’t he contacted you?”
Rachel’s eyes flashed, nostrils flaring. “You just wait, Vickers. We’ll see who wins and who gets stepped on.”
I cocked my eyebrow, unafraid. “I don’t want to win. He’s not a prize, and we’re not together. We’re just friends,” I lied.
She scoffed. “Yeah. Feed that story to some other girl, babe. I’m not fooled.” Her eyes scaled my body once more with the distinct impression of disdain. “I’m late for a luncheon anyway.” With that, she spun on her heel, forcing me to dodge the barrage of blonde hair that blew up in her wake. “Ta,” she sang, lifting her hand and fluttering her fingers as she breezed toward the door.
Growling under my breath, I left the lobby in the opposite direction, eager to rinse off the sting of Rachel’s perfume more so than the salt from my sweat.
Garrick
Emerging from Vintage, a snazzy upscale restaurant, I fished my phone from my pocket.
A snooty guy in an expensive suit had contacted me earlier that week, insisting that we get together to chat about potentially swapping my agent to him. Thought he was a real big shot. But I couldn’t blame him when he showed me the impressive list of former clients he had up his sleeve. And even though his smile had been as well-oiled as his hair, I had to turn him down. My agency had landed me a roll in
Blast Zone
and
Straightlaced
, and I was loyal to them for that.
It had been nice to be picked up in a limousine though. Despite the fact that our interlude hadn’t gone the way he hoped, the guy held true to his offer to take me back to the Lodge the way we had come. That was a big relief, considering that if I stood out on the curb, awaiting a ride or taxi, I’d have no protection against the throng of fan girls that could come squealing at me should I be so unfortunate as to be recognized.
Hearing my phone chime with a text alert, I thumbed open my inbox, the message archived under an unknown, unsaved number. I clicked it.
Better keep a close eye on your little bug of a girlfriend.
I would hate to see her get squashed.
- R
“What the hell?” I sneered under my breath.
We couldn’t have gotten back to Nativo Lodge fast enough. After a hasty goodbye and a sincere thank you, I shut the car door, jogged across the stone path yawning out in front of the entrance, pushed through the revolving doors, and hurried through the lobby.