The Gideon Affair (18 page)

They were both nice about it, but some serious shit had to have gone down after her visit to the gym. Without any explanation, both men rather sternly told her to take care of her injury and not to worry—that they had everything under control.

Pfft
. Who the hell were they kidding? She knew damn well that Perry Waterman yanking Mickey Klein's chain was a huge deal. She’d worried and fretted all night about the ramifications of the unusual powwow.

Probably explained why she’d tossed and turned all through another restless night. She was worried about Edward. Worried about what the nasty minded media would make of the reignited scandal.

He’d made a lame attempt to cajole her out of worrying when he’d called her right before the late-night shows came on. Halfway through a pint of Chunky Monkey when the phone rang, Paige had gone on a roll. She’d demanded he keep her in the loop while he made light of the secret meeting on the next day’s agenda and cracked jokes about her clumsy crash and burn off a moving treadmill.

A monumental hissy fit had been gathering steam inside her when he changed the subject and threw her a curveball.

“Missed you today.”

“Yeah, well …” she spit out. “That’s what you get for keeping your assistant in the dark.”

She heard his sigh and stopped.

“I wasn’t referring to my assistant.”

The rest of the conversation didn’t matter. Not really. Not after his quiet admission that he’d missed her. Her. Not the employee.

Which would then totally explain the very sexy dream that had chased her throughout the restless night.

Eek. Just thinking about it …

She shivered slightly then rubbed her hands briskly up and down each arm.

Glancing at her reflection in the big mirror at the far end of the long conference room, she almost laughed. All that naughty talk about being tied up and naked for his pleasure had made Paige permanently horny.

Not even a steamy shower or the painful shock of the water hitting the rather nasty gash on her knee managed to cool her jets. Needing to be the unflappable professional she was under ordinary circumstances when she went to the closet to choose an outfit, her inner librarian took over.

Her choice was a silky t-shirt style blouse tucked into a cute skater skirt that looked business-like without seeming stuffy. She ran her fingers on the cool silver balls of the Tiffany necklace Edward had given her then gently tugged on the matching earrings.

She swept her hair into a tidy chignon and slid on a pair of yummy shoes that were just short of being hooker heels to complete the look.

A noise in the reception area had her running for the door. Careful not to fling it open and break into a madwoman performance, she cautiously peeked first, holding her breath as she searched the open space.

Edward and Mickey were standing just outside the elevator in deep conversation.

Oh, thank god. Back in one piece. Well, at least there was that.

People were milling about in the office bullpen. From the corner of her eye, Paige saw Mickey’s curious junior assistants looking back and forth between her door peeking, the hot movie star, and the crazy Russian agent.

Quietly muttering, “Enough of this,” she straightened and strode confidently across the reception area, stepping right into the middle of the men’s conversation. “Gentlemen,” she stated in a no-nonsense tone. “Let’s take this to the conference room, shall we?”

Putting her hands up, Paige gestured for them to move along as if she was herding puppies. She ignored the surprised expressions and the faint gasps that wafted through the air at her blatant ‘handling’ of the super-agent and his number one client. Clearly, not something that happened every day.

Mickey’s deep laugh cut through her tension. “Tell me again why you don’t work for me.”

“Because I won’t put up with your bullshit, Mr. Klein. That’s why.”

Edward chuckled as he slipped off his suit jacket to the evident delight of an admiring audience of females and quite a few guys, too.

“It’d take a duel to the death to get her away from me,” he mocked. “That and the fact that you’re too damn tightfisted to afford her.”

Good grief. Their audience was enjoying this too much. Careful not to roll her eyes, she tugged on Mickey’s arm and whispered, “Ovaries are bursting and panties melting as we linger. Could you pleeez move it along?”

Both men simultaneously looked at her. It was like being in the bright lights of an interrogation coming at her from all sides. An odd feeling snaked through her system. Worry and a warning bell invaded her mind.

Oh, great. Swallowing past a jolt of nerves, she made it clear with her expression that they’d better get moving and take this somewhere private if they hoped to avoid a scene. And she didn’t exactly mean just from the starstruck employees watching with avid interest.

Paige stiffened. Dammit. Dollars to donuts at least one of the people present was probably speed-dialing TMZ right this moment. Everyone wanted to be part of a juicy scandal, especially when it involved a sex god with an enormous …

“Now. Conference room,” she bit out sternly and marched away. She didn’t have any other choice—not once she felt a damning blush heat up her neck before moving on to her face. She really did need to watch that video and find out for herself. After all, there was big and then there was … whatever came after that.

A couple of things hit him the moment Mickey and he came into the long conference room fifteen seconds behind Paige.

First and foremost was the scent of wintergreen that hung in the air. A half glance in the trash by the door revealed a bunch of green scraps and some silver foil littering the bottom of the can. He figured she’d chewed through almost an entire roll of Breathsavers while waiting for them.

Right behind that amusing observation was an awareness that hit Edward quite forcefully. The lady was not anywhere near as calm and controlled as she was pretending to be, and anyone with half a grasp of physical nuance and body language could easily see from her posture that she was operating on raw energy.

Her shoulders were never that stiff, and if she fussed with her skirt one more time, he was going to have to intervene. No way could he take seeing her so…jeez. So, what? Paige and the word undone just didn’t seem like a reasonable fit, but that was the vibe he was picking up.

“We are fine,
solnyshko moya
,” Mickey assured Paige, following her to the other side of the room.

Edward liked the pet name. It meant my little sun or something like that. Mickey liked to pontificate from his soapbox, and comparing Paige to a bunch of celestial bodies was a favorite theme. He insisted she brought rays of happy sunshine wherever she went, but if you didn’t watch out, that same happy, little sun could burn you alive.

Hmph. Apt description.

Her eyes swung to his. No way had he misunderstood the look. Mickey reassuring her was all well and good, but she needed to hear it from him. The problem was, things weren’t all well and good, and if Mickey’s plan was how they moved forward, well … there was every possibility that Paige would have none of it.

Gesturing, he waved her to him and knew a moment of intense pleasure when she didn’t so much as hesitate.

As she approached, he held out his hand for her to take, which she did, and he pulled her to the end of the table where he positioned a chair for her.

“Let’s all sit down and then we can start at the beginning and go from there.”

Twenty minutes later…

“So, you see, my dear. In the end, it had nothing to do with our boy and everything to do with Phae Bellamy. Poor kid. In my country, we’d take care of all those involved in such a way that …”

Edward cut Mickey off. No need for him to finish that inelegant thought. It was bad enough that he was talking to Paige as if words challenged her instead of his usual motor mouth. The last thing this situation called for was a hypothetical trip to the mother country for a bit of justice, Russian style.

“Anyway,” he drawled with a censorious look directed at Mickey. “Phae was the target, but the girl has some real grit, and according to Perry, she didn’t shy away from making the lot of them big time sorry for messing with her.”

Paige shook her head and winced. Yeah. He knew the feeling. Once it was all out there, the bullshit was so thick it was damn hard to cut through all of it and find any sense. He’d heard whispers about this kind of shit, but this was the first time he’d looked into the abyss and been given a front row seat. Hollywood was one fucked-up town.

She leaned heavily, elbows on the table and her chin resting on her clasped hands. A pensive sigh accompanied another head shake, and then she sat back with a grunt, tapping her fingers on the table.

Mickey was watching her with uncharacteristic tension on his face. He looked at him, a question in his eyes.
How the hell should he know how she was going to react
, he wanted to say. But didn’t.

Until she spoke or responded in a significant way, he couldn’t get a fix on what she was thinking. She'd not said a single word as Mickey and he tag-teamed their way through the entire saga.

She crossed and uncrossed her legs several times. Stopped tapping and then started again. Mickey shifted in his seat, the swivel chair making a faint sound in the room’s silence. Edward was pretty sure everyone could hear his heart beating—that was how quiet it was in the room.

Paige leaned to the side and slid a hand into a well-concealed pocket in her skirt, withdrawing a fresh roll of mints. Brain food. She insisted the mints helped her focus.

He watched her intently as she picked open the foil at the end and peeled the paper back on several mints. After popping one into her mouth, she sat there and fiddled with the wrapper a minute, then took a second mint and popped that one into her mouth as well.

Wow. A two-minter. Some heavy shit had to be running around in her head.

“Um, so …” she muttered sharply. “Who are the bad guys in this story?”

Mickey and he exchanged another quick look. The tone she was using gave him the willies. The girl was scary when crossed, and it was probably not the best time to chuckle, but that was what he did when the willies turned to attraction in a big way.

She scowled at him. In a frosty tone that would make Santa cringe, she snapped, “Really, Edward?”

He surrendered with a shrug and nodded for Mickey to continue. Let the other guy be in her line of fire; that was okay with him. He was having a good time watching from the sidelines. Unless he was mistaken, Miss Paige Turner was gearing up to clean some poor shmuck’s clock.

The super-agent, a performer in his own right, dominated the proceedings with a great deal of flair. Moving into quick action, he wheeled a whiteboard close, picked up a marker, and began sketching out the cast of characters.

“Welcome to a Hollywood shuffle,” he opined as the names were revealed. “Everything always starts in the mud, eh? Our two mud rats are Joann Jones and Markus Gladford. We’ll leave Miss Jones out for now and just focus on the no good director.”

“Timeframe,” Paige snapped.

Oooh. She was good. Edward had to give it up. She was no fool.

Drawing a big, ugly dark ring around Joann’s name, Mickey snarled his answer. “When the circle rounds, I think it’s pretty clear whatever sick hole she’s got herself in will be at the root of everything.” Grunting a dramatic, “
Pfft
,” he radiated disgust.

Edward knew exactly what Paige really wanted to know. She’d had a heavy hand in negotiating his contract. If he’d been cast for nefarious reasons, she was going to be pissed.

“We don’t know how deep this thing reaches, babe.” She was biting at her lip; eyebrows bumped together … listening intently. “And to be honest,” Edward added with a lazy shoulder roll, “we’re better off not knowing.”

Mickey agreed as he grabbed a water bottle then used it as a prop, swinging it wildly and using it to make his point.

“It’s-always-there. The-depraved-underbelly-of-fame-and-celebrity. Sex-drugs-power-intrigue. Old-Hollywood-meets-new-Hollywood-only-now-there’s-eyes-everywhere-and-cell-phone-cameras-and-YouTube-and-the-papparazzi-behind-every-trashcan. It’s-not-enough-to-have-talent. All-you-have-to-do-is-ask-Phae-about-that. Or-you-Edward. You-have-actual-talent-and-despite-a-few-rookie-missteps-have-managed-not-to-sell-out-for-fame.”

Paige’s hand smacked the wood conference table, startling Mickey from his rant.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, M. Edward’s a god, blah, blah, blah. Back on point, please. When did this start?”

He took over at that point. Mickey was managing to make things worse.

“Phae was the target, Paige. When she didn’t play with Markus and Joann, that sick as fuck producer calling the shots, Alan Sperry, wasn’t happy. That’s what M’s referring to. We want to steer clear of whatever sick, twisted sex-for-play thing they have going on. And don’t even get me started on the drug angle. Jesus but people are stupid. Anyway, because Phae rocked the boat and threatened to expose those two, they hatched this crazy sideshow starring me to take the heat off what was really going on.”