Billionaire Novelist's Fiery Debutante (8 page)

She swallowed away a lump in her throat. “You mean that?”

“Uh-huh. Why don’t you come over?”

Her heart leapt, but then she remembered. “I’d love to, but I can’t.”

“Prior engagement?”

“Something like that.” She hesitated, but then decided to tell all. It was no use keeping secrets from Josh. “Kiki’s got a rehearsal and asked me to come.”

She could hear him frown on the other end. “A rehearsal? Why, he’s an actor or something?”

“Stage performer. And he’s got a big show coming up.”

“Oh.”

Silence hung between them for a moment, and Chloe wondered how to break it. “So… perhaps we could have dinner later on?”

“Sounds good.” His tone was clipped all of a sudden.

“Domani’s at eight?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Great. I can’t wait to—”

But he’d already disconnected.

Frowning, she wondered what that was all about. Just because she couldn’t join him at his mansion was no reason to become all grumpy all of a sudden. She sincerely hoped he wasn’t one of those men who expected their women to jump through hoops. The kind who got upset when you denied them their every whim and fancy. He hadn’t struck her as one of those man-children, but you never knew. He was a celebrity, and from experience she knew that they tended to see the world as revolving around them all the time.

She heaved a deep sigh and felt disturbed when a soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?” she hollered, a little louder than necessary.

The door opened a crack, and Kiki’s big head popped in.

“Hey, beautiful,” he croaked. “Just checking in on you.”

In spite of herself, she had to smile. Kiki was a real sweetheart.

“I’m fine. Just getting used to being back, I guess.”

He stepped into the room, and took a seat on the bed, the bedsprings complaining loudly, and gave her a worried frown. “You look sad. Why are you sad?”

“Not sad. Just… homesick.”

“But you are home. How can you be homesick when you’re home?”

“Homesick for Eden Island. For…”

Kiki’s face lit up. “You’re pining for him, aren’t you? For Lee Child?”

“He’s not Lee Child, Kiki. He’s—”

The big guy waved his hand impatiently. “Whatever. You love him?”

“I…” She hesitated. It was a little premature to talk about love. “Let’s just say I like him. A lot.”

“I can tell. You have that look.”

“What look?”

“The puppy look. You know. The way a puppy looks at its master? I’ve sent you dozens of Facebook links.”

She didn’t want to mention she’d carefully managed to ignore all of Kiki’s Facebook activity, which was borderline stalky. Kiki posted at least fifty status updates a day. A struggling writer like her had better things to do than spend all her time on Facebook watching puppy videos. “I do not look like a puppy!”

“Oh, yes, you do, honey. I can tell. I’m a puppy expert.” He pointed his thick finger at her. “You love Lee Child. Don’t you deny it.”

She heaved another long sigh. “Maybe I do. So what? I’m pretty sure nothing will come of it.”

“Why? Because he’s a famous writer, and you’re not? Haven’t you seen My Fair Lady?”

She laughed. First she was a puppy and now Eliza Doolittle? Women’s Lib would have a field day with the likes of Kiki. “I don’t think Josh qualifies for the Professor Higgins role, Kiki. He’s not that old. And I’m definitely no Eliza Doolittle material.”

Kiki scrunched up his face. “If he loves you, he’ll turn you into a star. He simply has to!” He fixed her with a baleful eye. “Did you sleep with him?”

“Kiki! A lady doesn’t tell!”

He gave her a sly smile. “But you’re not a lady.”

“True, true. But still.” She couldn’t prevent a grin from creeping up her face.

“You did, didn’t you?” He clapped his hands and expelled a loud laugh. “Good for you!” Then suddenly he turned serious and wagged a finger in her face. “If this Lee Child gives you any trouble, you call me, all right? I’ll set him straight. If he so much as frowns at you, I’ll break his neck, I swear.”

“Thanks, Kiki. I guess.”

The burly man gave a satisfied snort. “Now I will tell the others.”

“Oh, don’t tell them, please,” she pleaded, sitting up. She just knew she wouldn’t have a moment’s peace if the others knew.

Kiki hesitated, rubbing his chin. “Perhaps I won’t. But the moment I discover this man isn’t treating you right, I’m mobilizing the troops.”

She flopped back onto her pillow. Just what she needed. A speaking choir commenting on her every move. Finding love was hard enough as it was, but when her friends started interfering, things were going to prove a whole lot tougher still.

CHAPTER 18

Frankie Knox kicked the first thug in the gut. The goon went down with a pained grunt. The second thug came at him with a stiletto. Knox simply applied some of his practiced Aikido moves and moments later the Russian lay sprawled out on top of his buddy. The third heavy thought he was smart in using pure force to pummel Knox to the floor: he came charging at the dapper agent like a rhinoceros. Knox deftly stepped aside like a matador and tapped the charging hulk with the butt of his service weapon. Lights out.

“Hands up, Mr. Knox,” an icy voice sounded in his rear. “And lose the fancy peashooter, will you?”

Knox turned around to face his nemesis, the heavily scarred leader of the Russian crime syndicate intent on taking over his neighborhood. He narrowed his eyes as he raised his hands.

“This is the end of the line for you, Mr. Knox,” rasped the villain. “No more wisecracks. No more puns. I’m just going to shoot you dead and be done with you.”

“Why don’t you do it, Kharkov,” growled Knox. “Just get it over with.”

“Oh, I will, Knox. I most definitely will,” wheezed the crime lord. “But not before I slice and dice your beloved partner Jacqueline Spark into bite-sized chunks.” The bag guy expelled a freakishly eerie laugh that cut to the bone.

Josh lifted his hands from the keyboard and leaned back in his chair, asking himself that age-old question: how to go from here?

He wasn’t referring to his manuscript, but to the kindling romance between himself and Chloe Thomson.

In his thirty-eight years on this planet, he’d never felt for anyone what he felt for her, and he had to wonder if it was wise to throw himself head over heels into another romantic entanglement when the last one had cost him so much emotional effort to get out of.

Furthermore, it seemed she was involved with this other guy. This Kiki. Oh, he didn’t blame her. It would have been a surprise if a woman of her caliber had come with no strings attached. Even though she hadn’t mentioned him, she was bound to have a boyfriend stashed away at home. Or, as it now turned out, several.

What bothered him more, now that he’d had some time to think about it, was the fact that she hadn’t been honest about it. She could at least have mentioned the fact. Not that what they had going was serious. But still. It irked him.

He laced his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes, Frankie Knox and his impending predicament pushed to the back of his mind now.

When his phone rang, he instantly picked up, hoping it was Chloe. He was more than a little disappointed to find it was his mother instead.

“Mom,” he intoned.

“Honey! It’s your mother!”

Mom was becoming a little hard of hearing lately, and had formed the habit of repeating everything she said three or four times in case others were suffering from the same predicament.

“I know. How’s things?”

“Mom’s on the line, honey. How are things over there?”

“Things are fine. Just came back.”

“How was your trip? You have to tell me all about it.”

He had absolutely no intention of telling his mother anything except the bare minimum. “You know. The usual. Writing. Reading. Relaxing.”

“Rupert tells me you had company this time? Some girl? How did that work out?”

He could hardly suppress a groan. “How do you—” Then her words registered. Rupert. The snake. He’d told his manager so many times not to divulge any details of his personal life to his mom, and yet she still managed to wheedle them out of him.

“Rupert says she’s very pretty. A prostitute, is she? One of them call girls?”

Josh sat up with a jerk. It was just like Rupert to jump to conclusions like that. “Absolutely not!” he roared.

“Oh, this is nice,” Mom said, unperturbed. “You should speak like this all the time, honey. I can finally hear what you’re saying. So she’s not a call girl, huh? Who is she, then? And why did you bring her along?”

“I didn’t bring her along. It was all a big misunderstanding. The Eden Island people called it an unfortunate double booking. First time it ever happened.”

“Double booking, huh? Is that what they call this kind of stuff nowadays? You have fun with her?”

“Fun?” He spat out the word. “I worked, Mom. Worked very hard, in fact.”

“Worked?” she teased, drawing out the word. “In my time we used to call it sex. Not work.”

“We didn’t—” He stopped short before uttering the dreaded words. Nobody knew what had happened on the island except him and Chloe. He’d told Rupert about the double booking but hadn’t gone into detail about his exact relationship with his fellow islander/writer, except to mention that they’d collaborated on their respective works-in-progress while they were there. He expelled a deep breath, trying to find that calm spot his yoga instructor kept harping on about. “We didn’t have sex,” he lied.

“Is that right?” Mom sounded dubious. “I asked Rupert about it, but he said he didn’t know.”

“He didn’t know because nothing happened.”

“That’s your story and you’re sticking with it, huh?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Fine. Lie to your mother.”

“I’m not lying!”

“I can tell a fib when I hear it, Joshua, so don’t insult my intelligence.”

“I didn’t have sex with Chloe,” repeated Josh through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I knew you were going to brush me off, so I asked her myself.”

Josh’s blood ran cold. “You did what?”

“I called her! Can’t a mother call her future daughter-in-law?”

“She’s not—”

“Anyway, she was a lot more forthcoming than you are, my dear. She said—and I quote—that she ‘had the most wonderful time with Josh and cherishes the time we spent together’. Now does that sound like a woman who got some or what?”

“Mom,” grunted Josh icily, “I really don’t see how this is any of your business.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, hun,” rasped Mom. “Everything that concerns this family is my business. Anyway. I googled her, and Rupert was right. She is gorgeous. Now just you make sure you treat her right, you hear me? None of that skedaddling you’re so good at. I like this girl. I think she’s great for you. So there.”

“Thanks,” was all Josh could think of to say.

“Thank me later. I’m meeting her tomorrow, and I plan to go all out in support of you, honey. I’m gonna push your candidacy like nobody’s business. If after our little get-together she still has doubts about marrying you, it won’t be because of me. Now tell me all about what happened on the island. I need to be prepared if I’m gonna pull this off. You’re a hard sell, and you know it.”

Josh sank back in his chair again, and slapped his hand over his face. What did he ever do to deserve a mother like this?

CHAPTER 19

There was an air of the mundane to Domani’s. Located nicely in between Chloe’s place and Josh’s posh mansion, it was just a pizza joint, for all intents and purposes. What the non-connoisseurs didn’t know, was that Ricki Domani made the best pizza for miles around, and locals had snacked on his delicious Italian cuisine for years.

As she waited for her date to arrive, Chloe wondered if Josh was one of the people in the know, or if he was like most newcomers blissfully oblivious to this kind of secret the inner circle—the locals—treasured.

She looked around as waiters hustled and bustled and carried hot steaming trays of pizza to the hungry crowd. Tuesday night was special. Two for the price of one, if you felt so inclined, with real Italian ice cream to top it off.

She’d hesitated between a table outside—people watching was one of her favorite hobbies when not working on a novel—or inside, but had finally listened to common sense and opted for a table near the back of the room. Writers weren’t Hollywood movie stars by any stretch of the imagination, but Josh Poole was still one of Long Island’s celebrities and would probably be recognized by one of his autograph-hungry fans in next to no time.

She wanted to have dinner with Josh, not with Joshua Poole, the famous writer, and didn’t mind concealing him from the general public.

Ricki, who was a friend of hers, had passed by her table twice, asking with a worried frown if she really didn’t want to order yet, when Josh finally hove into view outside. He came walking up with long strides, wearing jeans and a polo shirt and disguising his handsome face behind sunglasses.

He dashed inside like a summer storm, probably used to walking fast to waylay his fans, and spotted her without fault.

“Sorry I’m late,” he began as he seated himself, his back conveniently to the other patrons. “My mother,” he added with a comical grimace.

He didn’t say more and didn’t need to either. Chloe had had Josh’s mom on the phone for almost an hour before finally managing to ring off. During that time, the woman had repeatedly asked
 
about her intentions with her son, and Chloe, mortified, had merely stammered that they’d only known each other for a week.

“Honey,” Josh’s mom had countered, “I barely knew Josh’s father for a day before I was carrying his child.”

“There should be a law against mothers interfering with their offspring’s love life,” Josh voiced her very own thoughts. He shook his head. “I hear she talked you into lunch tomorrow?” He placed his hand on top of hers. “I besiege you, Chloe. Don’t do it. For the sake of all that’s good and holy, don’t go.”

She laughed. “It’s all right. She seems like a nice person. Apart from her habit to keep harping on the same topic over and over again.”