In Deep Shitake (A Humorous Romantic Suspense) (36 page)

Ross backed away.

The cell phone in his hand rang. Aaron was calling back. He punched at the screen and held the phone to his ear. Heather gave a pouting moue of her lips and strolled toward the window of the suite.

“Yes, Aaron,” Ross replied.

“Sorry about not taking your call earlier. I was in a meeting. You know I always take your calls.”

Swallowing down the lump of pride that had lodged in his throat, Ross responded, “It’s okay, mate. A man’s
gotta
do and all that.”

“Yeah. Well. I have some bad news,” Aaron continued in a jovial tone.

“Cheers.
More bad news.
That’s just what I need," Ross muttered.

“You didn’t get the starring role in the
SpyMatrix
sequel. The producers are going another way. Okay, they’re going younger with the part.
That Evans kid.
Anyway, they still want you to do a cameo where you basically hand the torch—or in this case the big gun —over to the twenty-something slice of beefcake. The schmucks.”

“I don’t care about that. I’ve never been interested in that role anyway. And I’m not doing any cameo. I’ve got my hands full with the film project here.”

“Okay,
boyo
." Aaron seemed gleeful. He was probably representing the Evans kid.

"Anyway," the agent said. "I think I know what emergency you’ve got on your hands there. Milton called for a quote about your broken engagement.”

“I see," Ross commented glancing at Heather as she paced in front of the window.

“You know what you have to do.”

“Do I?” Ross watched Heather move away from the window and back toward him while unbuttoning her blouse.

“Marry the girl. A huge celebrity wedding to Heather Davies will be good publicity. If you marry her, all this will blow over. In fact, it will make you look like a stud. You’ll have the funding for your film locked,” Aaron said.

“Excellent advice. But what if she won’t cooperate?” Ross asked

“She will. I was on the phone with her this morning and she’s forgiven you. It’s all set. I’m even giving the bride away.”

Controlling an angry outburst he wanted to descend to, Ross kept his tone even. “And if I don’t marry her?”

“Don’t be a schmuck. Haven’t I been a good agent? I don’t want to dump you over this. Just do it.”

“Right. Thanks, Aaron.” Ross snapped the phone shut and tossed it onto a nearby chair.

Heather had stopped in front of him, her blouse now completely unbuttoned. The sexy black bra underneath was clearly visible as she pulled the blouse from the waistband of her flouncy skirt.

Ross placed his hands over hers. “Stop, Heather,” Ross said. “Stop. This is not going to happen.”

“Okay.” She began re-buttoning the blouse. “But we are getting married.” Heather smiled smugly.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. It’s not going to happen. Give it up.” Ross walked to the mini-bar, opened it and took out a five-dollar bottle of mineral water. He opened it and took a swig, gulping it down as if it were scotch. “Let’s be honest with each other. What’s going on between you and the receptionist of that investigation agency? Clarence what’s-his-name?”

Her face never changed expression. Not a flicker. “I don’t know what or who you’re talking about.”

A change of direction was needed. “Okay, let’s leave that for a moment. Tell me why you want to marry me? I can’t help your career as much as someone else could. I’m not a huge star.”

“No, but you’re the only star I have at the moment.” Heather slithered to him and pressed herself along his body again. He would have considered the smile she gave him seductive at one time. “With me by your side you can be
huge
again, darling,” she said, caressing his chest. “As soon as we make the sequel to
SpyMatrix
, you’ll be the biggest thing in the industry.”

“I’m not doing a sequel to
SpyMatrix
.”

“Come on, baby, you don’t have to lie to me. The word is out all around Hollywood that there’s a sequel in the works. And here you are starting a hush-hush new project in Savannah, Georgia? It has to be the
SpyMatrix
sequel.” She caressed his shoulder and then squeezed it lightly. “You can admit it. Sweetie, I promise you I’ll be great as Francesca.”

Honesty was not cutting it. Maybe there was another way to get the information he wanted from Heather. He was an actor wasn’t he?

Ross smiled and tried to look sheepish. “You caught me. I am doing the
SpyMatrix
sequel, but I’ve been secretive about it because the financing isn’t certain.”

A sly smile quirked Heather’s lips. “Don’t worry about that. With me in the picture, the financing will be a breeze. Do you know how much money we’ll make between U.S. and foreign rights, not to mention the product placements? And that’s before the peripheral merchandizing like the big gun replicas, the action figures, and all that stuff. It will be megabucks.” Her eyes gleamed with dollar signs.

“Now that my secret is out and I’ve been totally honest, I expect the same from you. What’s up with Clarence?”

Heather turned away. “Clarence who?”

“Don’t get coy on me now. You want to play Francesca, don’t you? Tell me about what’s going on with Clarence.”

Heather pivoted and seemed to search his face for something.

Ross pushed her closer to the cliff. “I promise that if I have anything to do with a
SpyMatrix
sequel, I’ll use whatever influence I have to get you the part of Francesca. How about that?”

Why not promise something that would never have to be delivered.

“Now, will you tell me what’s going on?” Ross said.

“Are you jealous?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he hedged. Jealousy was something Heather would understand.

“Oh, baby, don’t worry. Clarence is just the guy who’s helping me retrieve some embarrassing photos,” Heather said. “Once I get those photos,
Playboy
wants them. It’ll cause a huge scandal…and give me a
buttload
of publicity. Not to mention the money
Playboy
will pay.”

“Why would Clarence help you?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “He thinks he’s in love with my sister.”

“Why did Clarence get his agency operative to try to break into my car?”

“Sweetie. You weren’t being cooperative with information about the sequel, now were you? Clarence thought you might have some information in your car. I wanted confirmation of the sequel.”

“I’m still not clear on why Clarence is involved.”

“Like I said, Clarence is in love with my sister. He’ll do anything for her,” Heather said. “And I’ve promised my sister a share of the spoils of all this. She’ll do anything for money.”

A trait that ran in the family, apparently.

“Who has these photos right now?”

Heather directed her gaze to the side. He knew she was about to evade. “A Russian guy.
Walnikov
.
Olinov
,
Rostinov
… something like that.”

Kubikov
.

“Why would this Russian guy deal with Clarence?”

“That’s the funny thing about it,” Heather said with excitement.

Ross seriously doubted anything could be funny about this situation.

“When he contacted the Russian’s representative, Clarence didn’t use his own name. He used the name Stephen Dagger and the rep seemed to think he was you. Isn’t that funny?”

“Hilarious.”

Suddenly, pieces of the puzzle started to fit together.

“And is this Russian going to just give your valuable photos back?”

“Clarence has something the Russian wants.” Heather frowned as much as the
Botox
in her forehead would allow for. “But there’s been a little trouble with the Russian. Clarence promised to straighten it all out.”

Bloody hell. Clarence had involved Ross with the Russian mob.

“Oops.” A shadow of concern passed behind Heather’s eyes.

“Oops, the Russian?”

“No.”

There was something besides the Russian to oops about? Bollocks.

“I did something I shouldn’t have last night. There’s somebody I need to call right away.”

“Who? What else is going on, Heather? Tell me.”

“Oh, I need to call that reporter guy. Stewart Milton. You’re not going to get mad or anything are you? Promise you won’t be mad.”

Ross knew she meant the American-mad like angry. “I promise I’ll go mad if you don’t tell me what is going on.”

“It’s just that I got jealous about you being at that motel.” Heather bit her lip. “I traced the phone number on my caller ID from when you called last night.” Heather trotted to her handbag on the sofa, opened it and reached inside. “Anyway, Milton happened to call me for a quote about you and the Stooges woman.”

“Mo,” Ross said intently.

“Yes, Mo. What kind of name is that? Anyway, I’m afraid I was a little indiscreet. You’re not mad are you?”

“Of course not.” He was angry, but not crazy—yet. “Are you saying that you were the source for that story about Mo and me at the motel?”

Giggling, Heather punched the keys on her cell. “It’s okay. I’ll call him and retract my information. He won’t dare print it without me as a source.”

What had he done? The scene with Mo played in his head. Why hadn’t he given her the benefit of the doubt?

“And I get the part right? I mean I deserve that role right?”

“Right. You’ll definitely get what you deserve,” Ross said, using all his acting ability to keep a calm demeanor. His right hand was fisted so
tight,
he lost feeling in his fingers. “Now where is Clarence? I’d like to speak to him.”

“He called right before you got here and he said he was at his apartment.”

* * * * *

“
Wha
,
wha
,
wha
,” the voice of the client sitting in front of her droned on.

“Uh huh,” Mo replied when there was a pause. She swiveled in the office desk chair in a one hundred eighty degree arc, gazing up at the ceiling tiles, as she tapped the eraser end of her pencil on the pad in front of her.

She heard the guy but her mind didn’t really register the meaning of the words. She couldn’t think of anything but Ross, the mistrustful mushroom head.

“
Wha
,
wha
,
wha
,
wha
,
wha
.”

The client paused.

“Yes. Um
hm
,” Mo said.

“
Wha
,
Wha
. . .”

How could Ross have accused her of betraying him to Milton? Wait a minute. Why was she wasting more seconds of her life on the fajita? No. From now on she would not think about him. He didn’t deserve the headspace.