Gia Harris wasn’t family. She was a far cry from it. Seth barely knew her, aside from being inexplicably powerfully attracted to her one night years ago. He didn’t
want
to be concerned for Gia like he had been for Joy.
But he was.
“Everett didn’t realize he was dealing with a New Temple higher-up, until he was offered instant exclusive entry into the inner secrets of the Golden Realm . . . that fantasyland every initiate is brainwashed into craving like it’s crack,” Seth added derisively.
“Hughes would be the perfect recruitment idol. Scary to consider it ever happening, actually. Good thing Hughes has a head on his shoulders and recognized what was going on.”
“The DA is right to worry about your witness. And not just because of the overlap of the God complex and star complex. McClarin might be subtler than having her fitted for cement shoes, but he’d likely find some way to influence either her or the public. Bribes. Blackmail. A setup for bad publicity. Most celebrities aren’t as impervious as my nephew-in-law. Trust me on that.”
“So you’ll help us?” Charles asked quietly.
Seth hesitated. “Like before . . . on the Mianaco case?” Mianaco was easily recognized from the press surrounding his trial, but he was no Gia Harris. It would be a challenge to disguise one of the most recognizable faces in the country.
It was a face
he’d
certainly never forget.
“You’re getting the gist of it,” Charles said with a grin.
Seth had not only helped out Charles and Madeline in the past but also consulted and assisted the FBI. Many of his friends and coworkers in Army intelligence had gone into legal, criminal investigation and intelligence-related work after leaving the Army. Surgical alteration and disguise were being used more and more in sticky proceedings, given the pervasiveness of camera phones, social media and surveillance equipment on almost every corner. It was becoming increasingly difficult for a marked man or woman to merely disappear from one location and reappear unnoticed in another.
Seth was no longer a government employee, but given his unique skill set and background in intelligence, people he knew who worked in investigative and legal capacities sometimes asked for his expert help. Usually a consultation and conference with the organization’s disguise expert was all that was required, but on a few notable occasions, Seth had been more deeply involved.
“Things are getting way too hot for Gia to stay in L.A. and go on her merry way,” Charles said. “The trial won’t begin for several weeks, at the earliest. Until then, we want her to fall off the map. In order to make Gia Harris disappear, though, we need you.”
“What about the movie she’s doing?”
Charles grunted softly and shifted in his chair. “Luckily, Madeline has a far reach in the show business community. She was a sorority sister with Joshua Cabot’s wife, and they still socialize on occasion. She’s been in conference with Cabot, who has opened talks with United Studio. They’ve agreed to put off production of
Interlude
until Gia has gotten through the bulk of her testimony.”
Seth whistled softly under his breath. “That took some major power-brokering.”
“They agreed to put it off, but only for a short period of time. Certainly not much longer than it takes to shoot the scenes Gia isn’t in.”
Still, Seth was too familiar with the movie industry not to realize what a sacrifice even a “short period of time” was. If anything, it indicated how irreplaceable they thought Gia was for the leading role.
That
part didn’t surprise him. He clearly saw her face in his mind’s eye—her light. She’d fascinated him from the start. Apparently, millions of people agreed with him. They couldn’t get enough of her face on the big screen.
And Gia couldn’t get enough of the high of giving it to them. She’d been working almost nonstop ever since she came to Hollywood two years ago.
“Well? Will you help us, Seth?” Charles asked.
Seth frowned, unwilling to commit to something so . . .
Big.
“I thought it was par for the course that Hollywood highfliers suddenly had a problem with their memory when it came to testifying about anything they saw in a case that could compromise their career . . . or their life. Why’s Gia doing this?”
“She
is
very ambitious, so I can’t really say for sure. She personally knew McClarin’s victim, so she likely relates. The victim’s mother is her hairdresser, and Gia would go to their private residence to have her hair done. That’s when she witnessed the rape. Gia’s a relative newcomer, especially given her current status on the Hollywood A-list. She’s only twenty-four years old. Maybe she hasn’t absorbed some of the nastier habits of Hollywood yet. Truth be told, I’d be sorry to see the day that happens . . . if it does ever occur,” Charles mused.
A flash of familiar anger went through Seth, but he quickly repressed it. He’d thought Gia was twenty-five two years ago, that night they slept together. He’d thought that because Gia had
made
him think that. The day after she’d flown back to New York, he’d learned the truth. Liza, his intern, had innocently revealed that Gia had misled him. Apparently, Gia was somewhat of a prodigy. She’d skipped several grades in elementary and high school. Yes, she’d graduated from college at the same time as Liza, but she was nearly three years younger. She’d been twenty-two,
not
twenty-five, on that night he’d let his guard down and made love to her like a man possessed.
Did two or three years really make all that much difference?
To Seth it did. He didn’t like being lied to. He didn’t know which of Gia’s lies of omission bothered him more—the fact that she’d misled him about her age or the fact that she belonged to the profession he routinely avoided when it came to sex, relationships and romance. Yes, she’d worked on Broadway at the time, and not in films, but she was already being sought out for the title role in
Glory Girl
, her film debut. He had good reason to believe she had omitted the truth about her profession on purpose.
Seth didn’t do actresses. And most people who worked with him, including Gia’s friend Liza, knew that.
“If she really is that ambitious, maybe she doesn’t regret all the press. It wouldn’t be the first time in history an actress thrived on publicity,” Seth said.
“She can’t have wanted what happened to her and her driver yesterday, being run off the road like that . . . Seth?” Charles prodded, and Seth realized he’d become lost in his thoughts. “We could really use you on this.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Charles.” He nodded toward the door and the makeup room. “You saw what I’m dealing with out there.”
“You said on the phone this is the final day for shooting this movie,” Charles said. Seth rolled his eyes, both resigned and frustrated, he’d revealed that tidbit of information before he knew exactly what Charles wanted.
Charles chuckled, knowing he’d caught him out. “Will you just meet us for a consultation at least? Madeline really wants you,” he persisted, leaning across the desk and handing Seth a card. Seth glanced stonily at the card with the Los Angeles County district attorney’s address on it. “Tomorrow at noon?”
“Does Gia Harris know what you’re planning?” Seth asked pointedly.
Charles shook his head. “No, and she’s not going to like it when we tell her. Especially the part about Madeline maneuvering to have her shooting postponed. But given what happened yesterday, we’ve got to convince her that it’s not feasible—or safe—for her to continue as if everything is normal. A lot is hanging on Gia’s testimony, not only for us, but for the feds’ future case.”
Seth didn’t want to see Gia Harris again.
He
did
. Too much. Which is precisely why he
shouldn’t.
But dammit, this meeting with Charles had started alarms blaring in his head. Yes, he’d rather avoid Gia.
But he didn’t want to see her hurt or blackmailed either.
Or dead.
How responsible and guilty would he feel if he learned something had happened to her and he could have helped prevent it?
He frowned and stood. “I have a really bad feeling I’m going to regret this,” he informed Charles pointedly as he shoved the card into his jeans.
* * *
Gia gave a little sigh of relief when the deputy du jour stopped following her ten feet away from the conference room door. She was starting to feel like she’d acquired a permanent shadow. It was damn disconcerting.
God curse narcissistic wack jobs for interfering with my life.
The bitter thought and a dozen similar ones flew through Gia’s head as she walked across the threshold of the conference room attached to Madeline’s office. She thought she’d become accustomed to facing off with lawyers and judges and the formidable Los Angeles County district attorney. But there were two men sitting at the oval conference table tonight that sent a shock through her.
Shit.
“Joshua.” She said the director’s name numbly, pausing at the entry to the room. “Dan . . . uh, Mr. Arden,” she amended, blushing. She’d met the superpowerful movie producer and United Studio executive twice, but his silver-gray full head of hair and the aura of prestige, power and money that surrounded him seemed to discourage first-name usage.
What were the director and executive producer of her next movie doing
here
, in Madeline’s offices? Was she in trouble for causing an increase in security, on and around the film set all this week?
Joshua Cabot stood at her entrance, along with Arden, the assistant DA Charles Trew, and an FBI agent she’d met briefly, called Alex Demonico. Gia knew the FBI wasn’t officially involved in the state’s case against Sterling McClarin, but it had been made clear to her that a lot was riding on the success of the state’s prosecution for a potential future federal indictment.
Madeline Harrington, the Los Angeles County DA, remained seated, although she gave Gia a warm smile. Gia had come to learn that Madeline stood up for no one but her presiding judge.
“We thought it would be helpful to have Joshua and Dan here to discuss your future plans,” Charles Trew said enigmatically.
“I don’t understand,” Gia said, putting her purse down in an empty chair and sitting at the same time everyone else did. She looked at Madeline Harrington bemusedly. She’d learned in the past months that Madeline was sharp as a honed knife and just as dangerous, should the occasion arise, but also surprisingly motherly and compassionate at times.
“After what happened yesterday,” Madeline said gently, “you must realize things can’t go on like this. The media shitstorm is only going to get worse the closer we get to the trial.”
“What do you mean
things can’t go on
?” Gia asked warily, glancing at a compassionate-looking Joshua Cabot and a stony-faced Dan Arden. “My life can’t go on? My job? I don’t understand. Why are you here, Joshua?”
Joshua Cabot had a nice face. She’d thought so from the first time she’d met him. Yes, she’d been influenced by his brilliance and reputation as a director, but his warm, fond expression when he’d spoken about his four daughters had utterly convinced Gia that she would be working with a decent man. Dan Arden, in comparison to Joshua, looked far less compassionate. His expression had settled into one of resigned annoyance.
“Maddie has a point, Gia,” Joshua said. Gia raised her eyebrows at the familiar usage of the district attorney’s name. She gave Madeline a pointed, disbelieving glance.
“Joshua and I go way back,” Madeline admitted to Gia with a smile at the director.
“So that gives you the right to plot with him about my life behind my back?” Gia asked incredulously.
“Retract the claws, dear,” Madeline said without any heat. “I’m thinking about your health and well-being.”
“You’re thinking about getting my testimony without any major hitches,” Gia corrected.
Madeline smiled. “You’re right. Your health and well-being relate directly to the health and well-being of my case, though. And Alex’s too, indirectly,” she said, glancing at the FBI agent, who nodded. “But believe it or not, I’d rather you remained in one piece for personal reasons as well. I’m busy enough as it is without having to deal with unwanted guilt if something happens to you because of this media circus,” she said wearily. She noticed Gia’s stubborn expression. “I know I told you at the start of all this that I’d try to make this as painless as possible for you. But circumstances alter all the time, Gia. We have to be flexible, given the changing atmosphere.”
“
Why
did you call them here?” Gia demanded under her breath. God, what if the studio took steps to break her contract? She wouldn’t put it past them. Who wanted to deal with all the trouble, inconvenience and loss of time and money Gia was bound to bring them, embroiled in this trial as she was?
Charles Trew leaned forward, elbows on the table. “It’s too risky to keep you in L.A., Gia.”
“I can’t just pick up and leave,” she exclaimed.
“We’re not talking about anything permanent,” Madeline soothed. “But given the way things are escalating, everyone agrees that in the three weeks leading up to the trial, we need you out of this pressure cooker. Gone. Before something explodes in our faces.”
“Locked up in a hotel room somewhere?
No
. I’ve told you all, I hate confinement. I start to feel like I’m going crazy being penned inside for any more than a day or two. And what about the movie—”
“Joshua and Mr. Arden have kindly agreed to arrange things so that your scenes can be postponed,” Madeline said.
There. The bomb had been dropped. Her skin tingled in anxiety. She met Joshua’s stare.
“But you can’t do that,” she said softly, stunned. “It will cost the studio hundreds of thousands of dollars—”
“And a hell of a lot
more
inconvenience,” Arden interrupted succinctly, glowering at her. Gia clamped her mouth shut, mortified by the movie executive’s harsh chastisement. Madeline cleared her throat in the uncomfortable silence that followed and gave Charles a significant glance.