A Wilde Night (Old Town Country Romance Book 3) (10 page)

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing,” Kat lies, and it confirms my suspicions. She’s not going to tell me how much trouble she’s in. I’m sure it’s because she doesn’t want me to worry. But that’s impossible. How could I not worry about someone I care so much about?

I place a finger under her chin and tilt her head up so she’s looking into my eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Kat. What’s wrong?”

She gulps.
“I’ve got a little bit of a PR mess I need to take care of.”

I grab the iPad from Elsie. My stomach knots as I read the headline: Are Katie and Devon on the Rocks?
Katie a No Show at the Black Family Wedding.

“I’m sorry,” is about all I can manage to say.

She shakes her head. “It’s not your fault.”

“What can I do to help?”

“There’s not a lot either of us can do. My publicist is just going to have to deal with it.”

“Devon was looking everywhere for you,” Elsie says.

“I don’t know why,” Kat spits. “I think I made it clear that we’re not together anymore.”

Elsie shrugs. “I guess he thought you’d play nice and pretend to still be together until he got his reality show launched.”

“I don’t care about him or his stupid show,” she fires back.

When there’s a knock on the door all three of us look at each other.

“It’s probably Teko with the clothes,” I say as I open the door.

Devon is standing there and he looks pissed. If it was poss
ible for steam to be coming out of someone’s ears he’d be steaming like a boiling hot kettle.

“What the fuck are you doing in
Katie’s room?” He shoots daggers at me.

“A better question is what the fuck are you doing here?” I give the asshole my most intimating glare. “Kat made it clear she doesn’t want to see you anymore.”

“Kat? Who the hell is Kat?” I can’t believe the guy actually tries to shove me. “Let me in.”

I take a firm and tall stand in the center of the doorway. There’s no way in hell this little twerp is getting past me and he’s not getting anywhere near Kat. He was already on my last nerve the last time I saw him.

“I said let me in.” He makes a move to shove me again, but this time I grab his arm.

“You touch me one more time,” I say through gritted teeth. “And I’ll break every bone in your hand. You want to try to snowboard with a shattered hand?”

As if he’s finally cluing in he slowly shakes his head. When I release my grip from his hand I breathe a small sigh of relief when he puts it down at his side.

“Dude, you know this isn’t cool at all.”

The guy really isn’t going to give up, is he? “What’s not cool?”

“You’re supposed to be a security guard. You’re not su
pposed to be fucking my girlfriend.”

Now I really feel like slugging him, but I keep my cool. “Well, Dude. She’s not your girlfriend anymore. And I’m not fucking her. Just so we’re clear.”

“This is going to completely ruin the release of my new reality show. What am I supposed to say to the producer? He’s expecting Katie Lawrence to be on the show.”

“How about not making promises you can’t keep?” I suggest.

“We’ve been together four years. I didn’t expect her to bail on me now.” He shakes his head. “Especially now.”

I shrug. As if I care anything about his television show. I just want him to stay away from Kat.

When Teko walks up to us carrying my uniform, I give him a high five. He hands me the clothes and then glares at Devon.

“Is there a problem?”
Teko asks him.

Devon shakes his head. If he was afraid of me he must be terrified of
Teko. The guy can be extremely intimidating when he wants to be.

Devon looks at me. “Tell Katie she needs to deal with her publicist before this thing explodes. Things could get ugly for her to
o if she’s not careful.”

“I’ll escort you back to your room,”
Teko says to Devon. It’s a hint, but not a subtle one. At least the guy isn’t as stupid as he looks. He takes off down the hallway with Teko following behind him.

When I reenter the room Kat is pacing and wringing her hands. “Was Devon mad?”

“He’ll get over it,” I assure her.

“I’ve got a ton of phone calls to make before I get on the plane.” She already sounds exhausted and the day has barely even started.

“Is there anything I can do?” I just want to take her into my arms and make all of her problems disappear, but I know it’s not possible. I feel utterly useless.

She grabs my hand and pulls me back into the bedroom, away from Elsie’s nosy stares.

“None of this is your fault,” Kat says. “I don’t want you to worry about it, okay?”

I take her into my arms and hold her. “How can I not worry about you?”

When she sniffles and I can feel her start to sob it’s all over. My heart completely shatters.

“You need to go, Hunter. You need to forget about me. There’s no reason for you to ruin your life for me. If the media gets one sniff of the fact that you and I were together it’s all over. You’ll never have a normal life again. You’ll be pulled through the mud, followed, torn up and spit back out again. You’ll be under constant surveillance and scrutiny. You don’t want that. No one wants that. I don’t even want that.”

Her deep brown eyes hold so much pain it hurts to look into them. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

She frowns. “How do you know? How can you say that?”

I softly sing the opening lines to “Prove”…

I wish I could tell you that things will be good from now on

When it feels like the good times will soon enough be all but gone

If I could say one thing to you it would be just hold on

I wish there was some way to prove to you we could be strong…

She laughs. “It’s a good thing you’re an awesome drummer. You can’t sing at all.”

I can’t help but smile. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“People always say that when they can’t sing.”

Now I’m the one who’s laughing. “You’re right. I have an awful voice. That’s why I always stay behind the drums where I know what I’m doing.”

She runs her hand down
my cheek. “That’s not the only place where you know what you’re doing.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

She slowly nods as she places her hand on my chest. “Want to show me one more time how well you know what you’re doing?”

I motion toward the living room. “What about Elsie?”

“We can be quiet.”

“And what about
all of your phone calls?”

She gives me a sexy little crooked grin. “They can wait a little bit longer.”

Ten

K
atie

I didn’t want Hunter to leave—ever—but I knew I had to get back to being Katie Lawrence. Especially when I looked at my cell phone and saw that I had fifteen messages.
Five from my manager, two from my agent and eight from the publicist. Every one of them claimed to be an emergency and told me to call them back immediately.

Since when does breaking up with an asshole, who has trea
ted me like crap for years constitute an emergency? A meteor getting ready to hit planet Earth is an emergency. An outbreak of the plague is an emergency. Breaking up with Devon is not. At least not anywhere but Hollywood.

My lips are still tingling from where Hunter gave me his best, last kiss. We didn’t make each other any promises because there were no promises to make. I just can’t wrap my head around the notion of never seeing him again. We fit so well together—like ham and cheese or lettuce and tomato—the idea of us not ever being together again just seems wrong.

But I have to be realistic. And start thinking about my career again, which is apparently getting ready to crash and burn if I don’t give my manager and publicist the okay to start damage control.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Elsie asks. Her brow is furrowed with concern.

“Yes, fine.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t look fine. You look like someone who just lost a beloved pet. Remember how you looked when that ugly little Chihuahua of yours died when we were juniors in high school. What was that thing’s name?”

“His name was Alexander the Great. And he was a great little dog.”

“He bit everyone who ever came near you. I think I still have a scar on my heel from where he attacked me.”

“Fine. He was a little protective, but he wasn’t ugly.”

She scrunches up her nose more than she normally does when she’s disgusted with something. “He was as ugly as a large rat. If you didn’t know he was a dog, you’d think he was a rat.”

“He wasn’t that bad.”

“I think you’re romanticizing because he’s dead. Anyway, my point
is, when that little rat-face died you looked like crap for several weeks. It was obvious you were broken-hearted. It’s obvious now too.”

I heave a sigh. “We can’t be together. Rationally we both
know it could never work out, but it doesn’t stop how we feel about each other. I’ve never met anyone like Hunter before and I don’t think I ever will again.”

“What is he like a soul mate or something?”

I shrug. “I never believed in stuff like that. I never thought there was one perfect person who you just clicked with. It always sounded like some Hollywood scheme to sell tickets to romantic comedies. But that was before I got the know Hunter.”

“You could be together. It might not be easy, but I don’t think it’s impossible.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to do that to him. He never asked for a life in the public eye. He’s a quiet country guy. He has a simple life. I don’t want to destroy it. And you can’t tell me his life wouldn’t be destroyed if we were together. Mine was destroyed a long time ago.”

“Destroyed is a bit of a harsh term, don’t you think? You de
finitely have a different life as Katie Lawrence than you did when you were Kat, but your life is not completely ruined.”

“It’s just not my life anymore. I realized that being with Hunter. For the first time, in a long time, I was just being me. Doing what I want to do.
Making my own decisions. I can’t do that as Katie Lawrence. The studios own all the rights to Katie Lawrence. To their creation. I’m just stuck playing the part for the rest of my life.”

When my cell phone rings I know I have to answer it. I have to stop hiding and face the consequences of my choices. Choices I’ll never regret
, but I’ll have to now account for. I take in a deep breath then answer the call.

***

  My house feels so sterile and barren when I enter. I used to appreciate coming home to the quiet but now it feels almost suffocating. Hunter’s house felt so much like a home—a place where you could plant roots and expect to one day see your grandchildren playing in the backyard. My house feels more like a temporary asylum—someplace to park while I wait for my next film role and the next location where I’ll be living in a trailer for a few months.

I don’t even bother to unpack my suitcase. I just leave it parked in the front entrance. I know everything in there will
somehow remind me of Hunter and I’m doing my best to try and forget him.

But who am I kidding? I’ll never forget him. I can still feel the way he kissed me—and the way he touched me—like I was the most precious thing in the entire world.

And the way he looked at me—like I truly was worthy of being worshipped. And that was all me. Hunter Wilde worshipped Kat, not Katie Lawrence.

I love the way he could make me smile—a real smile—not one of my pose-for-the-camera smiles, but an actual expression of true emotion.

Happiness. I felt happy with Hunter. I’m not sure how long it will be before I feel that way again.

But I can’t dwell on the past. I have to think about being Katie Lawrence again.
Everyone is depending on you
, my manager was quick to remind me as soon as I answered her phone call.
The studio has a lot of money invested in your next movie
.

My publicist wouldn’t even talk to me on the phone she was so upset. She just wanted me in her office first thing Monday morning.

I can hardly wait to get emotionally beat up by another person who is supposed to be working for me.

***

“Why do you look so…I don’t know…different.?”  My publicist, Chevelle, narrows her grey eyes at me.

I give her an innocent shrug, although I feel anything but. I’m sure I look different because of Hunter.
Because I was with someone who actually cares about me, not just about what they can get from me.

“Did you sleep with someone…other than Devon? Is that why you no-showed the wedding?”

“I no-showed the wedding because Devon is an asshole and I didn’t want to stand by his side while he screwed his way through the bridal party.”

“You didn’t answer the other part of my question.”

“I don’t think the other part is any of your business.”

She rolls her eyes. “Everything you do or say is my business. That’s what a publicist is responsible for.”

I heave a sigh. So much for having any sort of private life. Everything about me is apparently up for public consumption.

“Fine.
I slept with someone when I was in New Jersey.” I shake my head. “It’s not a big deal.”

I know it’s a lie, but I don’t really want anyone else to know how much of a big deal it was to me. I know it was only su
pposed to be a one-time thing, but I can’t help thinking about Hunter Wilde. He manages to invade my thoughts nearly every moment of the day.

That’s never happened to me before and it scares the hell out of me. Surely no good can come of it. He’s in New Jersey and I’m in LA.

And he’s a small town cop, among other things, and I’m a movie star.

Not that I think I’m better than him in any way. There’s probably no way in which I’m truly a better person than Hunter.

But a movie star isn’t supposed to fall for a cop. I’m supposed to fall for another movie star, or a popular singer, or even another sports figure. Someone equally famous.

Chevelle’s
eyes narrow again. This time they’re almost nothing but slits. “Who did you sleep with?”

“No one famous.
A cop.”

Her eyes go so wide they look like they’re going to pop out of her head. “You slept with a cop?
Seriously? How in the world did that happen?”

“First he kissed me. Then he started unbuttoning my shirt…”

She waves a well-manicured hand in my face. “I don’t need a play-by-play. I know the mechanics of the act, believe me. What I don’t understand is how you even came into contact with a cop to have sex with him?”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “I have time.”

“The head of security at the resort thought I needed a pe
rsonal security guard. He asked Hunter to do it. And that’s how I met him.”

“So the guy isn’t really a cop. He’s a
security guard
.” The way she says
security guard
makes it sound like he’s one step above a criminal.

I shake my head. “He is a security guard, but
he’s also a cop. And a bartender when he has time. And he plays drums in a fabulous country band.”

“The guy’s a real renaissance man.” I know she’s being sa
rcastic, but I think Chevelle is right about Hunter. He can really do everything and anything.

“I really like him,” I admit.

“You can’t date a cop.” She glares at me. “There’s no way to spin that. You need to date an actor. Preferably a hunky one. And someone at your level of fame. It can’t be an up-and-comer. People will think he’s just using you to get famous.”

I frown. “He probably would be.”

She snaps her fingers in the air between us. “I know.” She grabs the star magazine that’s on her desk. No doubt the latest issue. “There’s an interview with Nic Rayne in here. He said you’re his celebrity crush. He’s the perfect guy for you.”

I nearly choke. “No, he’s not. I’d
just be trading a bad-boy snowboarder for a bad-boy rock star. There’s virtually no difference between the two men. They’ll both sleep with anything with a vagina.”

My publicist smirks. “When you’re with
Nic Rayne you don’t do much sleeping.”

I can feel my eyes grow wide. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve slept with
Nic Rayne.”

“The two of us had sex. We didn’t sleep at all.”

“Ewww.”

She shrugs. “It was several years ago.
When I was still doing some freelance writing. I did an article about him for
Rolling Stone
.”

I shake my head. “I’m not getting involved with
Nic Rayne. No rock stars. Period.”

“He’s not just a rock star. He’s also an actor. He starred in
Fire in the Twilight
. It was bigger than
Twilight
and
The Hunger Games
combined.”

“Great. I’m not dating any actors either.” 

Chevelle snaps her fingers in my face. “You need to get over—whatever this is. It’s just a crush. He was someone different, a Hollywood outsider, and that’s what’s appealing about him. But what do the two of you really have in common besides sex?”

More than you think
, I want to say. Hunter and I grew up in the same world. We share the same core values and interests. But I have to be careful. No one in Hollywood knows about my background. Not that I’m ashamed of growing up in a blue collar family in small town New Jersey. I just don’t make a big deal about it. And my life as Kat, the girl from P-burg, doesn’t fit with the image of Katie Lawrence that everyone has worked so hard at creating. 

“I’m not sure I want to get over it,” I admit.

Chevelle glares at me. “You’re in a very precarious position right now, Katie. The public adores you for the moment and we want to keep in that way for as long as possible. But one false move—one slip up—and you could just as easily be despised. I know it’s like a balancing act, but you’ve got to hold it together for as long as possible. At least until your new movie comes out.

“The studio has a lot riding on this release. Everyone is counting on me. I know the drill.”

“Good. Then get your shit together and start acting like America’s Sweetheart again.”