Let's Misbehave (14 page)

She frowned. “At least you didn’t pretend not to know why I’m calling.”

“I had nothing to do with that article. It was all Delilah.”

“So there’s no basis in reality for it?”

The silence on the other end told her everything she needed to know.

She dropped her head in her hand. “Russell, you gave me three weeks.”

“Yes, but you haven’t managed to stay clean. After the debacle of my last film, there’s only so much influence I have with my backers.” He sighed. “Tell you what, Imogen. Nothing’s final yet. I’ll talk to my financiers and see what I can do, but you need to keep your nose clean.”

No kidding. She exhaled. “Thank you, Russell.”

She hung up as Bea swept into the study, unwrapping her outer layers. “I take it that wasn’t good news.”

“Delilah Jones is telling the world she’s Sherman’s Ophelia and he won’t deny it,” Gigi said as she walked back and forth in front of the fireplace in the study.

Bea watched her from where she reclined on the couch. “Do you want me to call him? I can offer to back this movie.”

She stopped pacing. “You’d do that?”

“Of course.” Bea shrugged. “You’re my sister.”

She sat next to her oldest sister and took her hand. “The next time I hear someone say what a shark you are, I’ll tell them you’re actually sweet.”

“Don’t do that. I like my reputation as is.” Bea smiled slyly at her. Then she squeezed Gigi’s hand. “Let’s figure out what to do about you first.”

“My strategy of focusing on work is obviously not enough.”

“Singing in the rain?” Bea lifted her eyebrows.

“I have no idea where that came from.” And they’d indirectly fingered Merrick—that was the worst part. “I suspect that’s Delilah’s doing, too. She’s feeding the media stories to discredit me. It’s the way she operates.”

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Gigi.” Her sister gave her a knowing look. “Having an affair, especially with a politician, isn’t the way to show Sherman you’re behaving.”

“I’m not misbehaving.” Much, she amended mentally.

“So you aren’t seeing someone.”

She shook her head. “I never said that.”

“Gigi.” Bea sighed as though exasperated. “What if he sells you out the way Dirk did? I’m concerned that you aren’t protecting yourself.”

If Bea hadn’t been so earnest, she’d have made a joke about condoms, but the care in her oldest sister’s eyes made Gigi lift Bea’s hand and kiss her knuckles. “Don’t worry, darling. He has more motivation to keep our affair private than I do.”

“If you’re sure.” Bea didn’t look convinced. “Because, and I have to point this out, but you wanted to stay out of the tabloids and you haven’t done a good job so far.”

“No kidding.”

“You need to go on the offensive, Gigi.” Bea gave her a big sister sort of look. “You need to actively show that you’re not a promiscuous harlot.”

She winced. “That’s putting it in harsh relief.”

“It’s what the media is doing.” Bea tapped the armrest on the couch. “You should have Titania do a cover on you.”

Gigi cringed. “More press coverage is the last thing I want.”

“It depends on the sort of coverage. Titania would be different. She’s popular and respected, and she’d bloody brilliant at what she does. It’s not a mistake that she’s called photojournalism’s Barbara Walters. A behind-the-scenes to get to know the real Imogen Summerhill by her could be valuable.”

She shook her head. “It won’t make any difference. Sherman won’t take me on unless he thinks I’m a stable and dependable. His backers like Delilah Jones.”

Their mother leaned in the doorway. “Am I interrupting?”

Bea shook her head. “You could never interrupt, Mother. Join us. Please.”

“I just wanted to check with Imogen.” Jacqueline faced her. “I have a charity event to go to tonight. I wondered if you might want to attend with me.”

Gigi blinked. “I’d love to.”

“I thought so.” Smiling, she said, “We’ll leave at half past eight. Cocktail attire.”

She watched her mother disappear through the doorway. “Mum knows what’s going on.”

“Of course she does. Mothers always know,” Bea said, standing. “The Countess of Amberlin is formidable. You’re lucky she’s on your side.”

“I’m lucky you are, too.” She stood and hugged her sister. “Thank you.”

“Promise you’ll think about what I said about Titania.”

“I will.” But the idea of baring more of herself to the public made her shudder.

She walked Bea out and then went to do a yoga routine followed by a jog on the treadmill. She made herself a protein shake that she sipped as she got ready for the evening.

She met her mother downstairs at twenty-five minutes after eight.

Jacqueline surveyed her with a smile. “You look lovely, of course. Ready?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath and followed her mother out to the waiting taxi.

Her father had been abysmal with money, and they’d lost what had been left of the family fortune ages ago. Yet somehow her mother maintained the air of careless wealth. Gigi had always wondered where she’d gotten her affinity for drama from. Now she knew.

They arrived at the venue where the function was being held. As they walked to the entrance, Jacqueline said, “Would you like to know what you’re supporting tonight?”

Gigi felt a pang of selfishness. “Yes, of course, although I’ve never known you to support something that wasn’t worthy.”

“I didn’t think any of you girls paid attention to my causes,” her mother murmured as they entered the building. She smiled at the doorman who opened the door for them and took her coat off. “We’re here tonight to raise money for scholarships for young women, for university as well as continuing education. Now, I have obligatory rounds to make. Would you like to go with me, or will you be fine mingling on your own?”

“I’ll be fine.” She held her hand out. “I’ll check your coat. Go do what you need.”

“Thank you.” Her mother smiled at her as she turned away. Then she looked over her shoulder. “This event attracts a good crowd. Be open, Imogen. You might meet interesting people.”

She nodded to appease her mother. Her concern was very sweet, but the last thing she needed was to meet new people. She could just imagine how they’d react once they knew who she was—like she was an alien that was fascinating in a train wreck sort of way.

After she checked their coats, she went to the bar for a glass of champagne before she meandered through the salons. Having a prop in your hand in these events was key. Especially lately when she felt like everyone was looking at her and judging.

It was ridiculous. She should have been used to being criticized. But, somehow, it was different when it was about your personal life rather than your work.

“Excuse me.”

She looked left to find herself staring into lovely gray eyes that belonged to Merrick’s best friend.

“You’re Imogen Summerhill, and I’m Valerie Hendricks.” The woman smiled and held her hand out. “We have a friend in common.”

Valerie looked as elegant in person as she did in newsprint. She was long and lanky, her hair swept back carelessly. She wore a designer dress with careless flair. Gigi had the impression that she’d wear pajamas the same way.

She took the woman’s hand cautiously. “This is a surprise.”

Valerie rolled her eyes. “Ricky makes me go to these things with him as his default date.”

Gigi lifted her head. “Merrick’s here?”

“You didn’t know?” Valerie frowned. “I’d have thought he asked you to meet him.”

The fact that he hadn’t shouldn’t have made her feel so sad. She forced her lips into a blithe smile. “I’m here separately.”

“Hmm,” was all the other woman said. Then she leaned in and inhaled. “You smell delicious, don’t you? No wonder Merrick’s so enthralled by you.”

Gigi shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know. Merrick, God love him, is as dense as oak. Boring as oak, too, these days.”

“There’s nothing boring about him.”

Valerie snorted. “Trust me, Ricky used to be a lot more fun. It’s as though he’s doing penitence for a crime that he didn’t commit.”

“He feels responsible for what happened to his sister,” Gigi murmured, nodding.

“Since she died, he doesn’t allow himself to live anymore either. I should have done something sooner.” The woman looked away, blinking furiously. When she face Gigi again, her jaw was set. “Michaela would have been so upset with us if she knew what we’d become in her name, which is why Merrick needs you.”

Gigi shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Whenever I see him look at you, I see a glimmer of the old Ricky, and it gives me hope. Which is why I’m going to do this.” Valerie looked around the room. “There’s a janitor’s closet on the second floor. Go there. I’ll send him to meet you.”

“That seems unnecessary,” she said, pretty sure she’d fallen down a rabbit hole. Quite frankly, she wasn’t sure meeting him here, after the announcement in the news that she had a new man in her life, was prudent. And it seemed even less prudent having the clandestine rendezvous arranged by someone who seemed mad.

“Oh, it’s necessary. Merrick is stubborn as all hell. He needs to be forced to take what’s good for him.”

“I’m good for him?” Gigi asked, blinking in shock.

“You’re
brilliant
for him.”

“You love him.” It was a statement and question at once.

“We’ve been through a lot together.” Valerie leaned forward. “Just so you know, I won’t stand him being hurt. That’s not really a threat, but it’s close.”

Gigi grinned. “I like you.”

“I’m glad we have an understanding.” Valerie took her hand, looking surprised that she did it. “I think you could be so good for Merrick. He’s in a rut, and he needs someone to lead him out.”

“I understand.”

“Actually, I think you do.” Valerie hugged her. It was a little clumsy, as though she were out of practice, but heartfelt. “Go upstairs. I’ll send Merrick shortly.”

“Okay.” Shaking her head, she headed in the direction of the elevators even though she knew this was folly.

“Imogen?”

She looked back.

Valerie smiled. “Good luck.”

***

INT. JANITOR’S CLOSET – NIGHT

Imogen waits in the dark, afraid turning the light on will out her. She doesn’t know if he’ll come. She only has hope.

The door opens, and Merrick steps inside. He closes the door and locks it.

IMOGEN

Took you long enough.

He takes her in his arms.

MERRICK

Good things are worth waiting for.

IMOGEN

I could have sworn you were all bad.

Scenes were never the same in reality, but when the door opened, she held her breath and hoped.

Merrick peeked in. His eyes widened when he saw her. “Imogen.”

She leaned against the supply rack, playing it cool. “Surprise.”

“When Valerie told me I need to come here to get a rag, I had no idea what she was up to.” He stepped in and locked the door.

Her breath hitched in her chest. Maybe sometimes life
was
like the movies. “Do you mind?”

“That you’re here waiting for me?” He crossed the small space and gathered her in his arms. “Yes. This isn’t discreet, but I can’t seem to resist you.”

The first touch of his lips to hers set her on fire. The second, she was sure she’d die.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispered against her mouth. “I saw the Delilah Jones interview.”

“You read entertainment magazines?” she asked with a lift of her brow.

“I do now.” He lifted his head and cradled her face. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, then she shook her head. “The director says they haven’t actually made a final decision and that I still have a chance, but it’s upsetting. I want that part.”

“I’m sorry,” he said with feeling. “What can I do?”

Just the offer was enough to make her feel better. “Kiss me.”

“That I can do.” He pressed her against the shelves. “But your lipstick will be smeared. I don’t think we should have that.”

She opened her mouth to tell him she had lipstick in her clutch when he kneeled in front of her. Slowly he pushed her dress up in the front.

He slid his hands up her legs, enticingly pulling her knickers down. She stepped out of them, and he stuffed them in his suit pocket. Focused on her, he thumbed her open.

She caught her breath, watching him, feeling herself go molten. “Merrick.”

He nodded. “I’ll be quick. Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone miss you.”

And then he did kiss her—right at the center of her.

His tongue curled into her, sliding up and fluttering over her. She let her head drop back against the shelf, closing her eyes. “Merrick, I wish you were inside me.”

He hummed against her. His hands joined his tongue, the finger of one sliding inside her, the other helping his tongue.

She cried out, gripping the shelves. She felt herself slipping, sliding—

And then he used his lips to suck, and she came apart. She cried out, gripping his hair, pulling him to her, seeing stars.

In the end, she would have fallen to the floor if he hadn’t been there to catch her.

She had no idea how long he held her, but when she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, his gaze feral with need.

“I want to haul you out of here in my arms right now,” he said, his voice raspy with need. “But we need to get back.”

“Appearances.” Nodding, she ran a finger along his lower lip, gasping when he bit it. “My mother is somewhere downstairs, probably looking for me.”

“I’ll text you.”

“Yes, please,” she said.

Merrick watched her straighten her clothing. Her knickers stayed in his pocket, a fact she knew both of them were aware of. She touched his face. “Wait here for a couple minutes?”

He nodded. “Go.”

She returned to the event, feeling odd. Disjointed.

Her mother glided toward her, her face lined with concern. “There you are. I lost you for a bit. Are you all right?”

“Of course.” Gigi smiled the way everyone expected of her as she filched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, not admitting that she’d been found upstairs, if only for a brief few minutes.