The TROUBLE with BILLIONAIRES: Book 3 (9 page)

“True.”

He took another bite, then shoved his plate away as he lifted another set of papers. He glanced through them, his lips moving as he read a few lines that had been altered in some way.

“This next scene’s with Rachel.”

He looked at me as though he expected some sort of reaction. I just nodded. When I didn’t say anything else, he handed the sheets across to me. I wiped my hands on my jeans—didn’t want to stain them with my fried chicken greased fingers—and took them, reading quickly through the scene. Apparently their two characters have an established relationship at the beginning because they were to do part of the scene in their underwear.

“Do they close the set for these sorts of scenes?”

“No. They usually only do that if the female actor is naked.”

“Then I can watch?”

“You want to watch?”

I offered a nonchalant shrug. “It’s why I’m here, right?”

Logan nodded, his eyes lingering on mine once again, as though he was expecting to see something he didn’t.

It was almost an hour before they called him to set. Logan walked to set in the same clothes he’d been wearing earlier, the makeup artist touching up his face as he sat in a folding chair, the director hammering at him about what he expected from him during the scene. They all ignored me, moving around me, bumping into me, but never speaking to me directly. I didn’t mind. Logan’s eyes jumped to my face every few minutes, as though to verify I was still there, and that was enough for me.

They had shifted everything over a little, so that the cameras were set up in front of a bedroom set. It looked a little like my bedroom back in Portland, a small room that barely fit a bed and a nightstand. There was a door off to one side that led into a realistic looking bathroom, and another door that opened into bare space, but that was supposedly the door that led to the rest of the apartment. There were three walls, one that sported a single window with light, purple curtains over it. If I stepped up onto the carpeted floor and didn’t turn around, it really had the feel of a complete room. But, I guess, that was the point.

Rachel came onto the set, immediately shed the light blue robe she wearing to reveal a high cut pair of panties and a tight, short tee underneath, and slid under the sheets. The director had a quick, whispered conversation with her before beckoning to Logan to join them. He touched my hand without looking at me as he walked away, causing Rachel to shoot a curious glance my way.

“Okay, boys and girls,” the director said, “let’s try to get this in as few shots as possible.”

The scene began with Logan sneaking into the room, stripping quietly out of his clothes before falling into the bed with Rachel who was curled up on her side. He moved up behind her and pressed the length of his body to hers, whispering something I didn’t quite catch into her ear. At that point, the director stopped the scene and had them go back to the beginning, forcing poor Logan to redress and slip out the door.

It took three times before the director seemed satisfied and allowed the scene to progress. Rachel pretends to wake up and demands to know what time it is, her fake sternness a little unbelievable to my ears…but what did I know, right? Logan seemed a little tense as he worked through his lines, especially when Rachel began to run her hand over his bare chest. I don’t know if I was the only one who noticed, but the director had them run through the scene ten times before he finally backed off. Each time Rachel seemed to touch Logan a little more intimately and each time he kept his hands clearly where the cameras—there five in all—could see them. There was one take where he kind of jumped as Rachel’s hand disappeared under his hip, making me wonder if Rachel was taking the intimacy of the scene a little too far.

The whole thing was surreal, like being a voyeur, watching the guy I lusted for make out with another woman. And, in a way, it was exactly that. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to be jealous, but the whole thing made me more than a little uncomfortable. I was definitely relieved when it was over.

Logan and I didn’t get a chance to talk afterward because they immediately set up another scene, then another. By the end of the day, Logan had filmed on five different sets, three of those with Rachel, two with the other male actors in the movie. In all of them he wore the same clothes, his makeup done the same way, his hair perfectly styled the same way. It was like watching one man’s day take place in broken pieces, out of order, and repeatedly.

It was exhausting.

Logan didn’t say much on the drive home. Almost the second we walked through the door, he headed upstairs, jumping into the shower to wash the day off of him. I stepped outside, finally taking a moment to enjoy the beautiful gardens, even if it was too dark to appreciate the few blooming flowers. Christmas in LA. What a difference in the weather between here and home. Portland was expecting snow soon…there was probably snow on the ground in Bend already. Not that I missed the snow. It was just different.

“They think you’re my girlfriend.”

I turned at the sound of Logan’s voice. “Who does?”

“The gossips.” He held up his smartphone to show me an article on a tabloid website with the headline, ‘
Logan Mitchell Dating?
’ “It didn’t take them long.”

“It never takes long for gossip to spread.” I glanced through the article, which hardly said anything of substance, and handed the phone back to him. “Does it bother you?”

“The fact that they’re gossiping about me? Or what they’re saying about you?”

I shrugged. “Either.”

“I’m not public about my personal life for a reason. I don’t want to see my life story twisted and bent and splattered all over the internet. And I don’t want the people I care about hurt by what might be said.”

“But isn’t that part of being a celebrity?”

“Maybe.” He pushed the phone into his back pocket and came to stand beside me where I was playing with the leaves of a lilac shrub. “But I never set out to be a celebrity. I just wanted to do something that would support me late into life and would leave some kind of legacy.”

“You could have had that with astronomy.”

“The legacy, maybe, if I was lucky enough to find something the million other astronomers in the world missed. But the pay…not so much.”

“Is money really that important?”

“Sometimes.”

I looked at him, feeling like I was missing something in what he was trying to say. He lifted his hand as though he was going to touch me, but then he let it fall.

“I don’t mind them calling you my girlfriend,” he said softly. “It’s kind of nice. I just…I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m a big girl. I think I can handle a little gossip and innuendo.”

His eyes rested on mine a bit longer before he sighed and turned back toward the house. “Should get to bed. First call is eight, so we’ll have to head out about sixish.”

I nodded, my heart once again soaring a little higher than it should have as I realized he was inviting me to spend another day at the studio with him.

***

Madison

“‘Logan Mitchell arrived on set of his new movie,
Mr. Prime Minister
, on the arm of a redheaded beauty,’” I read from the browser on my phone. “‘No one knows quite what their relationship is, but between the hand holding and the long, lingering stares, it seems that the notoriously private Mr. Mitchell has finally decided to go public with a clearly romantic liaison.’”

Rawn glanced at me, as he stood in front of my closet unbuttoning his dress shirt. We were spending the night at my place for the first time, Rawn deciding it might not be safe for me at his house and too uncomfortable in the secret room of our apartment. It was weird, having this high powered executive in my college bedroom, but it was kind of nice, too. It made it seem like he was a more solid part of my life now that there was little left we hadn’t shared, figuratively and literally.

“I hope Annie doesn’t believe her own press.”

“I’m telling you, she’s going to end up hurt when all of this is said and done. I mean, even if Logan really cares about her, how long could a relationship between a movie star and a college student really last?”

“I don’t know. How long can a relationship between an executive and his assistant last?” Rawn crawled onto the bed beside me and kissed the tip of my nose. “If I’ve learned anything from being with you, it’s that the impossible really isn’t so impossible.”

I shook my head, part of me wanted to believe what he said and part of me hoping he was wrong. Logan’s secret weighed heavy on me. I kept telling myself I owed him no loyalty, not like I did Annie or Rawn. And I hated lying to them, even if it was a lie of omission. But I also understood where he was coming from and why it was important to keep his secret his way, for his reasons. I just knew that Annie was going to get caught in the crossfire, and it was killing me to know I could have stopped it if I had just broken my promise. “We don’t know that there’s anything really going on between them.”

“No, but you know Annie. Do you really think she could spend that much time alone with her idol and not attempt to seduce him? Or that Logan is a stronger man than the rest of us weak, whipped men?”

“You’re not whipped.” I touched his face, my soul always soothed just by the feel of his flesh under mine. “And Logan is different. Maybe he’s smart enough to avoid complications.”

“His secret must be very dark if you, Annie’s best friend and biggest cheerleader, is hoping she will miss the opportunity to have a relationship with her…what do they call it now? Her bae?”

“I don’t know. Would you call the secret I kept dark?”

Rawn’s eyes immediately narrowed as the wheels began to spin in his head. Ironically, it was all centered around the first time I met Logan Mitchell: the night of the launch party I collapsed, practically in Logan’s arms, causing Rawn to accuse me of infidelity to a relationship that still wasn’t clearly defined. Only then did he learn of my diagnosis of MS and my sister’s death from complications of the same disease.

“Is Logan—”

I touched my finger to his lips before quickly replacing it with mine. Rawn didn’t need further encouragement. He pushed me back against the pillows, my phone getting lost in a tangle of limbs and scattered clothing as we quickly moved together, making love with an intensity I’d only ever known with Rawn. Funny how easy it was for me to give myself over to him without the restraints and the blindfolds. How easy it was to trust when I had a clearer measure of control. It was a redefinition, subtle, but clear, of our relationship. If only I believed it was enough to satisfy the need for control in Rawn.

Annie

We were falling into a routine now. It was only the second day hanging out with Logan at the studio and I was like an old pro. I knew who was supposed to be in his trailer and who wasn’t, who was supposed to be around him on set and who wasn’t. It had even gotten to the point where I felt confident enough to send away rogue assistants and barely concealed reporters.

“I don’t know what I did before you,” Logan teased as we ate lunch together. “You’re better than a bodyguard.”

“It comes from years of beating off the boys so that Madison could concentrate on her studies.”

“Hmm, so you were her bodyguard first. Do I have to worry that you’ll go running back to her when she needs you?”

I shrugged. “You never know.”

He smiled as I tucked into my potato salad. You would think it would get easier to sit under the bright light of that smile, but it just got harder. I wanted to touch him, to run my finger tip over the bottom edge of his lip, to slip my thumb into the dimple that popped up each time his smile was genuine, like it was now. It took every bit of self-control I had not to and—Madison could attest to this—I have very little self-control.

“Have you heard from them lately?”

“Madison texted this morning, said something about Rawn looking for the water bottle lady, but that’s about it.”

Logan sat back, a fresh water bottle, one that was completely sealed when he picked it up, his face a mask of deep thought.

“I’d like to get ahold of her myself.”

“Have you heard from the hospital? Do you know what drug it was?”

Logan shook his head. “I left before they could do anything. If they drew blood, it likely was to test for drugs.”

“It would be helpful to know what it was.”

“I have no doubt it was oxycodone, like Conrad’s reporters were suggesting. It would make sense.”

“How?”

He looked at me for a second. “Surely you’ve heard the stories, about how I was admitted to rehab a couple of times last year for addiction to prescription medications.”

“I heard rumors. I didn’t think it was true.”

“Most people assume if it appears on the internet, it is true.”

“Not me.”

His expression changed a little, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He was about to say something when the door opened and the assistant director stuck his head in the trailer.

“Need you in five, Logan.”

“Okay.”

Logan stood, but he didn’t go anywhere. The door closed, and I busied myself, gathering our paper plates to toss into the big trashcan out by the catering tables. Logan settled back down on the edge of his chair before I could stand.

“Listen,” he said softly, “there’s a charity thing tomorrow night that I’m supposed to attend. I was going to have my publicist make up some excuse, but I think I should probably go—for appearance sake, you know?”

I nodded. “You probably should.”

“It’s going to wildly boring, just a bunch of blowhards walking around talking about themselves. But, I was thinking it might not be so bad if we went together.”

“You want me to go?” My heart soared…

Logan shrugged. “They already think you’re my girlfriend. It would be strange for me to show up alone.”

“So, it’s for show?” …and then my heart fell.

Logan tilted his head slightly. “I wouldn’t say that. Not entirely.” He reached across the narrow table and took my hand. “I like hanging out with you, Annie. I’d really like to have you there with me, just so I have someone else to commiserate with.”

My heart began to pick itself up and dust itself off. That was better than nothing.

“Okay.”

He squeezed my hand before he let go and stood again, lifting the plates I was about to take out, carrying them to the trash for me.

He was something of a gentleman after all.

***

Mellissa

I sat behind Conrad’s desk, staring at the couch and thinking how nice it would be to curl up there and take a nap. I dragged my fingers through my hair and pulled my eyes away, focusing on the document displayed on the computer in front of me.

Conrad must have felt sorry for me, sitting alone on the couch day in and day out, waiting for him to get done making whatever phone calls he swore would only take a few minutes and ended up taking the majority of the afternoon. We were supposed to go pick out some decorations for a party his firm was throwing for a client, but he wanted to check in at the office first. That was over four hours ago. So he gave me this document to proofread for him before he sent it out to the press.

It was an announcement of an expansion one of his corporate clients was launching—hence the party. But the language of the first draft was surprisingly dry. I’d already rewritten the first two paragraphs, and it looked like I’d have to do the third, as well.

It was interesting, getting to know how a PR firm worked. I had always thought it was mostly just a lot of manipulation, but there was a lot more that went into it. They weren’t just publicists, they were party planners, advertising agents, investigators, reporters, match makers, and decorators. There was no telling who Conrad would be talking to one minute to the next, or who might walk into his office during the course of a single day. It was a mystery, what each day would bring.

I thought it might be more fun to work this sort of job than to go back to being a receptionist at Cepheus. As much as I loved the people at Cepheus, the work had always been sort of boring.

Not that I thought working with Conrad was a good idea.

I hadn’t even been able to nail him down to a night to have a quiet dinner together. I had wanted to do it last night, but we spent the whole day trying to help Rawn track down the water bottle lady—Lena. But it didn’t go well. The few leads we had turned out to be nothing but wisps of smoke. The woman had simply disappeared.

And that wasn’t good for Rawn.

I could see that it was tearing Conrad up, not being able to find a way to help Rawn. Even though Rawn had him arrested just three weeks ago, they were good friends. There was an understanding between them, and Conrad would do just about anything to keep his end. But there was very little that could be done unless we figured out who had the blueprints stolen from Rawn’s house—and that hadn’t happened just yet.

None of it really made sense to me. All of this—Madison’s kidnapping, Peggy coming after me, the attempt to drug Rawn, the break-in at Rawn’s house—it had looked like an attack on Cepheus, but now it seemed personal. When they kidnapped Madison, they had meant to take me. And kidnapping me wouldn’t have hurt Rawn personally, but if they had managed to get any secrets about Cepheus out of me—like the fact that Aurora was having memory problems or that Rawn was dating Aurora’s assistant—it would have blown up on him before it hurt Cepheus.

That had to have been the motive, right? I mean, we found out later that Peggy was related to the guy my uncle testified against and put in jail, but maybe whoever told her where I was, whoever hired her to take me—because she clearly couldn’t have done it on her own, Richard’s review of her economic situation made that pretty clear—had a different agenda that no one was able to figure out because Peggy wasn’t talking.

Maybe it was time for Peggy to talk.

Conrad breezed into the room and came up behind me, scanning the document I was supposed to be proofreading.

“Wow, babe, that’s much better.”

“What would you think if I went to talk to Peggy?”

Conrad stepped back like I had touched him with a burning rod. “Excuse me?”

I turned in my chair so we were facing each other. “I was just thinking that no one really knows why she came after me in the first place, except for the whole family vendetta thing. But there had to have been a bigger reason, right? There had to have been someone else involved, or the second they realized they had Madison instead of me they would have let her go.”

Conrad held up his hands, as though warding off an attack. “I thought we’d put that behind us, all that craziness—”

“Not really. She didn’t plead guilty. We’ll have to face her in court at some point.”

“But you going to see her…”

“I’m sure Richard would arrange it.”

“That’s not my point, Mellissa. I don’t care what your US Marshal agent can do for you,” Conrad said, placing his hands on each of the arm rests and leaning down over me. “The woman wanted you dead. What makes you think she’d be willing to help you now?”

“Maybe she’s one of those people who needs to brag about what she did, how she nearly got the better of me.” I shrugged. “She’s the only one we have access to who knows who was behind the kidnappings—and might be behind this reign of terror on Rawn. It’s an option. And we only have two more days.”

“An option I don’t like.”

“That’s sweet,” I said, reaching up to run my thumb over his bottom lip. “But I’m a big girl.”

“No. You’re a petite, wisp of a girl who is stronger than anyone I have ever known.” He kissed me gently. “You never fail to amaze me.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

***

Richard was able to arrange it fairly quickly, getting me in with Peggy within a couple of hours. Conrad went to the jail with me. She was being held in the county jail while she awaited trial, so the process to visit an inmate was different than it had been at the federal penitentiary where my uncle was being held. It was simpler, really, something I found amusing since Peggy had been intent on killing me—where my uncle never hurt a fly, he just took money on illegal gambling debts. One of those strange ironies of life.

Conrad kissed my forehead lightly before letting go of my hand and allowing me to follow the correction officer through the locked gates. I was led into a large room with many tables, kind of like the lunch room at my high school, with the exception of the metal rings in the center of the tables and on the floor.

Peggy sat at a table in the center of the room, her hands shackled to the table. Her eyes widened as I walked toward her, but she showed no other emotion. No reaction.

“Hello,” I said as I took a seat across from her.

Peggy just continued to stare at me.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“It’s not like I get a lot of visitors in here.”

I bit my lip, trying not to feel sorry for this woman who tazered me and shoved me into the back of a bright red Toyota Camry for reasons I still didn’t want to consider. But I couldn’t help just the smallest amount of compassion.

She’d lost her brother. I knew how that felt.

“I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me.”

Peggy’s eyebrows rose. “Me? What could I possibly tell you that your cop friends haven’t already figured out?”

“Who hired you?”

She laughed. “You mean, you’re just now starting to figure it out?”

“I know that you couldn’t have found me on your own, let alone funded a kidnapping that required the assistance of what, four or five other people? Madison heard five distinct voices while you were holding her in that house.”

Peggy tilted her head slightly, as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “And you think I was behind that? That I would mistake that tall bitch for you?”

“You might not have. But the people working with you might have.”

She shook her head. “You really don’t understand what’s going on here, do you?” And then a soft smile reshaped her mouth, making her harsh features almost attractive. “He’s still at it, isn’t he? He’s still after him?”

“Who?”

She laughed again, the sound almost maniacal. “I thought my arrest had spooked him, but it obviously hasn’t. What did he do? Did he go after those blueprints? He was always talking about how stupid it was that he would keep the evidence when it would have been simple just to destroy them. He said he would be the designer of his own downfall.”

I leaned forward. “Who? Who hired you? What did he want from me? What does he want from Rawn?”

Her laughter abruptly stopped. “You are a stupid bitch,” she said softly. “Haven’t you put it together yet? It wasn’t about you for anyone but me. You were my reward for helping him take down that arrogant executive. And Madison…that wasn’t no mistake. He knew that she was fucking that guy. Knew that her kidnapping would set him off, make him show his hand to the whole company. He just didn’t bother to tell anyone what he was doin’ but me and this other guy, this nerd from Cepheus who pretended to recognize her.

“But it didn’t go the way he thought it would. The CEO didn’t react the way he thought she would, so he decided to go at that exec from the inside. That’s why he risked bringing me into the company as that kid’s assistant. Put me in the asshole’s department where I could keep an eye on him, find ways to hurt him. He wanted to torture him before he brought him down, wanted to make him look over his shoulder, make him so paranoid he wouldn’t know which way to turn.”

Peggy sat back and laughed again. She sobered quickly as her eyes fell on me. “But I couldn’t work that close to you and not do anything. It made me sick, watching you walk around that place like nothing had happened, like your uncle hadn’t destroyed my brother’s life. You arrogant, arrogant bitch! If those damn cops hadn’t found us…” She smiled a sickening grin. “We would have had some serious fun together.”