Falling Star (43 page)

"And how sometime in the future investors
will get their money back out." He grinned. "Nothing to this
game."

They got down to it in the living room,
dueling laptops set up on the coffee table. At Geoff's suggestion
they broke the business plan down into its component parts and
divvied up the writing.

After several hours, motivated as she was,
Natalie was having a tough time focusing on target markets and
financial projections and value propositions. From the yard next
door she could hear a man playing ball with his son, and across the
narrow canyon road a radio blaring oldies entertained somebody
washing a car. Happy sounds. Saturday sounds. Not business-plan
sounds.

Not to mention the immense distraction of the
attractive male whose lanky frame had taken over the plump white
sofa. The last rays of the sun slanted through the open windows and
lay bars across Geoff's bare muscular legs. By this point he'd
replaced his contact lenses with glasses, round wire frames that
made him look sexy as hell. Natalie watched him push them up on his
forehead and pinch the bridge of his nose. She cleared her throat.
"Shall we take a break?"

"You want to get this done today, right?"

"Right. But that doesn't mean we can't take a
break."

"True enough." He rose from the sofa in one
fluid motion.

She led him to the Sub-Zero, from which she
pulled a big plastic Diet Coke bottle whose cap stubbornly refused
to twist off. She handed it to him. "I hate this weak female bit
but I can't get this open."

To her gratification Geoff didn't have the
easiest time with it, either. Finally he gave the cap one serious
wrench and not only did it twist off, but exploding Diet Coke
sprayed his face, tee-shirt, and a good part of the kitchen.

Natalie leaned against the counter,
laughing.

"I'm glad you're amused," he commented, but
he was grinning, too.

"You've got Coke everywhere!"

"I trust you're making such brilliant
observations in the business plan."

"I am," she announced, and then she was
leaning one hand against his chest, still laughing, and he was
laughing, and then, they were inches apart, staring into each
other's eyes, the laughter dwindling. Without looking away Geoff
set the Coke on the counter, then leaned forward and kissed
her.

Finally
. Natalie closed her eyes,
wrapping her arms around him. He smelled of Diet Coke and sunshine.
His unshaven face, warm from the day's heat, scratched her skin
deliriously. His body within her arms was strong and muscular, his
kisses, as slow and tantalizing as she'd remembered.

All at once he groaned and broke away. "Damn!
I'm sorry." He slapped the counter, frustration clear in his hazel
eyes. "Dammit! This is exactly what I told myself I wouldn't
do."

"Why not?" Her heart was pounding.

He threw up his hands. "I'm getting married
in two weeks!"

"I've never understood that." All her
resolutions about caution and good sense fell away. All she wanted
was to feel him, his body around her and on top of her and beneath
her. To continue what they had begun months before. Gently she
raised her hand and laid it against his cheek. He bent his face to
kiss her palm.

Then with a sudden urgency he again pulled
her against him and was kissing her, deep, hungry, insistent
kisses. His hands traveled beneath her cotton top, up her back,
then undid her bra. She held herself still as his hands wandered to
the front of her body.

"God, I shouldn't be doing this." He did,
though, all the while that every fiber of her being was urging him
on.

I don't want him to stop. I don't care
about the goddamn wedding. I could give a hoot about Janet
what's-her-name.
Natalie grabbed the hem of his tee-shirt and
ripped the fabric over his head, dispensing with it on the floor.
She ran her hands through the fur on his muscular chest, bending to
lick his nipples. She could feel his heart race and body tense as
he held her head gently in his hands. She ran her tongue down his
belly, then reached to undo the button on his shorts.

In one move he bested her, pulling off her
top and pushing her against the Sub-Zero, forcing her back against
the cold metal. He pressed his body hard into hers, insistently
rubbing his erection against her pelvis. Her wrists in his hands,
he forced her arms above her head and held them there, licking her
mouth. Slowly he inched down from her lips, still clasping her
arms. She was trapped in delicious anticipation, her breasts
screaming for his mouth. With his tongue he pushed aside her bra
and teased her hardened nipple, refusing to let her arms go,
refusing to allow her to touch him. She writhed powerlessly against
the cold metal.

He released her breast from his mouth and
raised his head. "Oh, God, Nats." His voice was strangled. She
stood, half naked and trembling, watching helplessly as he fought
with himself, with his conscience, with his desire. And she knew,
from the pained determination that came into his eyes, the exact
moment at which she lost the battle.

He let her go. He retreated across the
kitchen, retrieved his tee-shirt from the tile, and pulled it over
his head, not looking at her. "I am such a lout. I cannot do this,
Natalie. I am so sorry." He raked a hand through his hair and met
her eyes.

She looked away, pulling on her own top,
nearly crying from frustration. "Honestly, Geoff, I do not
understand why you are marrying that woman!"

"At the moment I don't, either. Except that I
don't know how to stop it."

Her heart leaped, but at that instant both of
them heard Geoff s cell phone trilling from the other room. He
uttered a low oath, looking not at her but at the big round-faced
kitchen clock.

It was all very dear. The idyll was over.

"I'm sure it's Janet," he muttered, and her
heart plummeted. "She has a helluva sense of timing. Plus I'm
supposed to meet her and her mother for dinner."

Natalie watched a hangdog expression spread
over his features, while she fought off the wave of disappointment
that assaulted her.

"I'm sorry, Natalie." Then he walked out of
the kitchen.

She stood alone, still leaning back against
the Sub-Zero. She'd feel better later, she knew, when it wasn't
pain that held her, but anger. For his stubborn refusal to see what
was to her so obvious.

After a minute or so Geoff returned, his
Topsiders back on, his laptop apparently safely stowed in his
briefcase. Again awkwardness fell between them. He smiled feebly.
"At least we got a lot done."

"Right."

"Have a good evening," he added, which
sounded pretty lame to her. Then he was out the front door.

Can't be late!
She heard the Jag's
engine turn over.
Can't make Janet wait!

For lack of anything better to do she stalked
into the den and turned on the TV, where gorgeous young women with
state banners across their gowned chests paraded across the screen.
Miss Illinois pranced by with an irritatingly toothy smile across
her glowing face.

Great. The Miss America Pageant. Where half
the contestants want to be television news anchors. Natalie jabbed
the remote's POWER button until the screen went black. Probably the
other half want to launch web businesses.

Tuesday, September 24, 11:12 AM

Kelly perched on her new yellow suede sofa,
the only piece of furniture in her Bel Air living room, lightly
blowing her still-damp Tropical Gold Sunshine nail polish. No more
minimalls for her. Now the manicurist came to her house, at her
convenience. Nobody who lived in Bel Air should be caught dead in a
minimall.

The phone rang, for what seemed like the
hundredth time that morning. Her beeper had been going off, too,
but she hadn't felt like dealing with that, either. She reclined
against the sofa cushions, listening to the message machine pick up
in the kitchen. It was too far away to make out who was
talking.

But after a few seconds she
could
make
it out, because it was Rico, her agent, screaming to beat the
band.

Damn.

She heaved herself to her feet and made her
way awkwardly into the kitchen, her newly pedicured toes separated
by little wads of cotton. Gingerly she picked up the phone so she
wouldn't screw up her polish. "Yeah?"

"Why the hell aren't you answering the
phone?" Rico shouted. "I've been trying to reach you for the last
fucking hour!"

She snorted. "Good morning to you, too,
Rico."

"I got no time for your sarcasm, Kelly.
Scoppio just read me the riot act and you've got some serious
explaining to do."

Kelly stiffened. Had Natalie figured out what
was on that shootout tape and told Tony? "He's upset?" she
ventured.

"
Upset?
He's frigging ready to kill
you, Kelly! Do you know that because of you KXLA is being sued? In
two separate lawsuits? Because of you, Kelly? Do you know
that?"

Kelly clutched the phone. "What do you mean,
being sued?"

"You want me to spell it out? I mean that the
Mann family, who I never heard of before this goddamn morning, is
suing KXLA, and you personally, for giving
Hard Line
video
of their kid smashed up in his car!"

Damn!
Kelly bent over the counter.
This was exactly what she'd been worried about: the Manns crawling
out of church and watching the spot on
Hard Line
and going
ballistic. And
Hard Line
had even cut her out of the story!
This was so unfair. She forgot about her manicure and banged her
fist on the counter so hard it hurt. Then she had an idea. "Isn't
there a limit to how often people can sue somebody? You know,
double jeopardy?"

"No, Kelly," Rico snarled, and she didn't
appreciate his tone. "There's no limit, particularly since the
Manns didn't sue before because you managed to talk them out of it.
Which I never heard about until today, by the way. So much for
agent/client communication. And remember how you had to promise the
Manns that that tape would never again see the light of day?
Remember that?"

Her mind was working fast. "But they can't
prove
I
gave
Hard Line
the tape. Maybe they got it
some other way."

"Yeah, right, maybe that'll fly. Give that a
whirl."

Kelly was shocked. Rico sounded totally
disgusted with her. That was a first.

"I gotta tell you, Kelly," he went on, "you
really fucked up this time. I swear, Scoppio is so ticked off he's
two inches from firing you.
Two inches.
But if you'd
listened to
me
, if you'd signed that contract when I told
you to, he wouldn't be able to fire you so fast because he'd still
have to pay you! But
noooo,
why listen to me? Why listen to
your agent, Kelly?"

She ground her teeth.
Now
she got it.
Rico was so transparent. "You agents are all the same," she told
him. "You're just worried about your goddamn commission. Fine. But
I'll get you an even bigger commission if you can manage to get off
your ass and negotiate the contract." She paused for effect. "If
Scoppio fires me, I'll just go work for
Hard Line
."

He roared with laughter, which really pissed
her off. "Are you nuts, Kelly? Didn't you hear me say there are two
suits?
Hard Line
is suing, too! They say you lied to them
about having a release from the Manns!"

"What?"

"They sure did, Kelly! So have I got your
attention now?"

She had no comeback to that. Now
Hard
Line
would never hire her. And what if Scoppio was so ticked
off he fired her from KXLA and she couldn't get another TV job?

That was just too terrifying. Kelly stood at
her counter and felt as if she'd swallowed a gallon of ice-cold
Gatorade, all of which got stuck in her stomach at the same time.
She couldn't survive if she wasn't on television. She had to be on
the air. Then something else Rico said came back to her. "Did you
say the Manns aren't just suing KXLA, but me personally?"

"Yup."

She was petrified to ask the next question,
but knew she had to. "How much are they suing for?"

"Thirty million. And
Hard Line
's suing
for ten million, plus legal fees."

Forty million total. Wow. Actually, that made
her feel kind of important. But then she got chills. "Will I have
to cough up money myself?"

"You're goddamn right you will."

Kelly looked around her bright sunshiny Bel
Air kitchen. She didn't have my money to cough up. She was behind
on her mortgage already, since she'd never signed the anchor
contract and was still on her piddly reporter's salary.

She could lose the house. She could lose the
furniture. She could lose everything. And just when she'd finally
arrived.

And there was stuff Rico didn't even know
about. That whole other business of Natalie finding her in Ruth's
office with the CNN shootout tape. She sure as hell wasn't going to
tell Rico about that now. One thing really did strike her. "You
know what?" she said. "I think maybe now I should sign the
contract."

"Are you crazy?" he screamed, so loud that
she had to pull the phone away from her ear. "Are you so
loca en
la cabeza
that you think Scoppio's gonna sign a fucking anchor
deal with you now?"

She'd had enough of Rico. She slammed down
the phone and stood in her kitchen trying to decide what to do. It
was a lot tougher than usual. Her head actually started to hurt and
she never got headaches. By the time she went upstairs to shower,
deciding to skip kick-boxing class for the first time in forever,
she still hadn't figured out a damn thing.

*