Hollywood on Tap (19 page)

“Come on,” the voice ordered. “I don’t have all night.”

Gritting her teeth, Natalie pressed her hands to the cool concrete and pushed herself up. Once upright, she took a good look at her attacker—and realized she had no fucking clue who it was. “Who are you?”

The woman had golden–blonde hair arranged in a complicated updo that would make a Miss America contestant jealous. Her makeup was flawless and she wore head–to–toe black, like a cartoon version of a cat burglar. “Joni Brennan. I believe you know my husband.”

Shock cut through the panic eating away at the edges of her vision. “You’re Carl’s wife?”

“The one and only.” Joni raised an all–steel .357 Magnum with a three–inch barrel and aimed it right at Natalie’s head.

Her heart almost stopped in her chest. “Where’s Sean?”

“Start moving and I’ll take you to him.” Joni clicked off the gun’s safety. “Gotta tell you though, he’s probably not worth it. Look at
me
. I bet all my chips on that son of a bitch Carl, and I lost. Big. It turns out my parents were right. I didn’t marry a man with potential. I hitched my wagon to a mean drunk with illusions of grandeur. I became a laughingstock.” She shoved the gun in Natalie’s back and pushed her forward. “You of all people should understand the horror of that. You’re a Sweet, after all.”

Refusing to surrender to the anxiety still eating away at the back of her brain, Natalie took a step forward and then another. If she could keep Joni talking, the other woman might get comfortable enough to let down her guard. It wasn’t much, but it was the only plan Natalie could come up with on short notice.

“What does that have to do with the brewery?”

“Everything,” the woman snarled. “The Sweet Salvation Brewery was supposed to be ours.” She pushed Natalie around a corner. “Instead, you three bitches come along and steal it right from under us. Owning this brewery and making it a success would have shown my family and the rest of this town that they were wrong.”

Natalie tripped over something solid at her feet. Desperate to stay upright, she grabbed the first thing her flailing arms encountered: Clyde’s workbench. Her knees cracked against the concrete floor but the move kept her from falling straight down.

That’s when she saw it. Saw
him
. The red emergency lighting outlined Sean’s motionless body at her feet.

The world came to a standstill as an entire lifetime of what if and now never will be ran through her mind. She’d come to Salvation to solve the problem of Natalie and find her own happily ever after. And for a minute, she had. She hated Sean’s lies, but after hearing his explanation understood why he’d done it. He’d been fighting for control just as much as she had. What had he said? That she hated change she couldn’t control? Well, she sure as hell hadn’t been able to control her feelings for Sean. She’d fallen in love and now it was too late. Every part of her ached with regret.

Then Sean’s chest rose with a shaky breath and she nearly sank to the floor with relief.

When they got out of this alive, she was going to kill him for running into the brewery as though he had a stunt double around the corner to take the hits.

“Come on, klutz,” Joni ordered.

Every ounce of worry and fear drained out of her, replaced with a rage ocean–deep and mountain–wide, with only one target. Palming a wrench, Natalie slid it up the sleeve of her sweater and straightened.

Her first instinct was the strike out immediately, but she knew she couldn’t. If she had any hope of taking Joni out, she had to time it just right.

She kept her hand close to her thigh and continued forward. “Does Carl know?”

“That idiot? Of course not.” The emotionless cold in Joni’s voice added an extra bit of creepy to the whole fucked–up situation. “When he got out on bail after running your sister off the road, I bailed him out, got him drunk and kept him that way so he missed his court appearance. And while he was passed out, I made sure things started going wrong here. Now, I never expected him to shoot himself after I spiked his morning whiskey with PCP, but the unexpected happens and you have to deal with it.”

“You set him up,” Natalie prompted, leading Joni farther away from Sean.

“A nice little bit of irony there, wasn’t it? Of course, I didn’t expect law enforcement to be so dead set against actually investigating the accidents.” She jabbed the revolver into Natalie’s back. “That’s far enough.”

Swallowing her fear, Natalie put everything she had into remaining calm. “Carl’s in jail, you won’t be able to blame him for this.”

“True, but the sheriff’s deputies aren’t much interested in investigating the goings on at the Sweet Salvation Brewery, are they? They’ll tie the explosion to a gas leak and it’ll be just another horrible accident at a poorly run craft brewery that resulted in two people’s deaths.” Joni took a step back. “Too bad for you it had to end like this.”

Using every trick and tip she’d ever learned from Dr. Kenning, Natalie marshaled all of her focus and intent into this moment.

She inhaled a deep breath and let the wrench drop into her palm.

Tightening her grip around the metal hidden behind her back, she centered her weight on the balls of her feet.

The ominous sound of a safety being pulled back sounded.

“No.” Natalie spun on her heel, bringing the wrench up at the same time.

The move startled Joni and she fired, but the sit went wide.

Natalie brought the wrench down with all her strength.

It cracked against the other woman’s shoulder.

The gun fell and clattered against the floor, skittering into the shadows toward Sean.

Before Natalie could even make a play for the weapon, Joni screamed like a woman possessed and came at her.

A shot cracked.

Joni went down in a crumpled heap to the ground, howling, “You shot me in the ass.”

Behind Joni, Sean stood with the gun. “Are you okay?”

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he collapsed to the ground, blood streaming down his arm.

Three hours later, the hospital was a mad house. TV crews and tabloid reporters had swarmed the Salvation County Medical Complex like a plague of locusts. The news had gone viral when Rupert Crowley had breathlessly reported on the shooting at the brewery on the country’s highest–rated cable news program. Everyone from the doctors to the sheriff’s deputies working crowd control were talking about how Sean O’Dell was really Hollywood heartthrob Sean Duvin, who’d disappeared six years ago moments after accepting his Oscar, never to be heard from again until now.

Really, it was the best piece of gossip Salvation had whispered about in decades.

And Natalie didn’t give a rat’s ass. She needed to lay eyes on Sean and confirm what the paramedics had said about his condition. A concussion and minor gunshot wound were serious, but they were a helluva lot better than getting blown sky–high in a gas explosion, as Joni had planned.

Fresh from a mind–numbing interrogation by law enforcement, Natalie and Miranda elbowed their way through the crowd to the hospital’s front doors.

“There she is,” someone hollered. “It’s Natalie Sweet.”

A platoon of cameras turned in her direction. Reporters rushed forward en masse, shoving microphones in her face and yelling questions at her.

“Are you sleeping with Sean Duvin?”

“Did Sean save your life?”

“Will you move back to California with him?”

“Is it true he has a harem living with him?”

“Did you lie to the police to protect his identity?”

“Are you his biggest fan?”

Natalie shrank back from the blazing lights and the deafening noise. Her chest tightened, squeezing all the oxygen from her lungs. The buzzing blared in her head.

Just when she thought she was going to crumple, her sister grabbed her hand and yanked her through the hospital’s front doors.

Miranda pulled her into a quiet waiting room with its florescent lights, white–tiled floors, and heavy scent of disinfectant. “You okay, sis?”

Natalie fought to calm her breathing before she hyperventilated. In. She pictured Sean’s face as he told her about the stout he was making for the invitational. Out. The feel of his fingers as he tucked her hair behind her ear. In. The sound of her name coming from his lips. Out. The way he looked at her as if she was his and always had been. Her heart rate slowed and the hospital waiting room came back into focus.

She gave her sister a thumbs–up. “Better.”

“Good. You stay here where the jackals can’t see you. I’ll go find out Sean’s room number.” Miranda marched off to the nurse’s station.

Relieved not to have to see the crowd anymore, Natalie sank down into a chair. How ridiculous was it that she could face down a deranged woman intent on blowing up the Sweet Salvation Brewery, but couldn’t handle the shouting reporters gathered outside?

“It’s horrible how they behave, isn’t it?” A thin, balding man sitting in the corner spoke up. “I told Sean I think it will only get worse now that the press has found him.”

Salvation was a small town. While she may not know every person by name, she knew pretty much all of them by sight, and this guy in his ironed designer jeans and blinged–out T–shirt with a tiger on it was definitely not local.

Wary of another sneak attack by a reporter, Natalie stiffened. “Who are you?”

“Sorry, it’s been a crazy day and I think I left my manners somewhere above Iowa.” He gave her a friendly wave. “I’m Hartley, Sean’s former manager. And you must the Natalie that Sean told me all about. I flew in this afternoon, after I heard the scuttlebutt that Rupert Crowley had found him. I wanted to warn Sean that the swarm outside was coming, but it looks like I was too late.” He shook his head. “At least he’ll have better protection from their prying eyes once he gets back home to California.”

Her heart stuttered to a stop. “He’s leaving Salvation?”

Natalie knew she shouldn’t be surprised. She’d fired him. Told him to get out of her life and stay out. He’d only come back to the brewery tonight to explain himself. That was all. It didn’t mean he wanted to stay. It sure as hell didn’t mean he wanted her. She glanced out the window at the press milling around outside. Especially not after he’d been found.

“Yes. He asked me to book him a one–way ticket. Who knows, maybe in time he’ll try acting again. He really is talented. I’m already getting offers e–mailed to me.”

What did Salvation have to offer in comparison besides a rundown brewery, a town full of people who loved nothing more than being all up in everyone else’s business, and her. She didn’t need a flowchart to demonstrate that it wasn’t enough.

“I hope everything works out just like he wants.” She squeezed out the words before anguish sealed off her throat with a lump the size of Texas.

“It can be hard for people to get the business completely out of their system—especially someone with as much talent and drive as Sean. But I’m sure he’ll call. Maybe even come back for a visit sometime. It seems like an…interesting little town.” Hartley spoke softly with the gentle understanding of a favorite uncle explaining that unicorns weren’t real. “After all, Hollywood specializes in happy endings.”

But Salvation didn’t. Not for her. She’d come back here to figure out what was wrong with her and why she’d relationship blocked herself. Now, thanks to Sean, she knew. Maybe the solution wasn’t to hold on so tight, but to finally let go—like he already had.

Usually a research breakthrough like this was cause for celebration. Not this time. The epiphany couldn’t block out the misery winding around her heart like a python and squeezing until it cracked. She couldn’t see Sean like this. If she did, she’d break right in half and probably beg him to stay. That was no way to repay him for teaching her such a valuable lesson. He deserved better than a half–broken girl in a podunk town. He deserved the Hollywood ending and she loved him too much to deny him that.

Miranda strode into the waiting room. “The old witch at the front desk says visiting hours are over.”

Holding on to what little bit of control over her emotions remained after Hartley’s revelations, Natalie grabbed her purse off the chair. “Tell Sean I wish him luck.”

Without a second glance back, she rushed from the room and out into the cold night.