Return to You (7 page)

"You're late."

The bland pronouncement stopped her in her
tracks. She turned around and saw Everett leaning in the doorway to
the living room.

He wasn't very tall, maybe six feet, but he
had a powerful body, lean and muscular, and the custom-made suits
he wore were tailored to fit perfectly.

She wanted to curse the blush she felt
climbing up her chest to her face. She licked her lips. "I had to
go into San Francisco."

His gaze rested on the tiny burgundy bag
dangling from her fingers. "You went to Romantic Notions?"

"Yes." She swallowed, wondering how he was
going to react.

He stared at the bag like he was trying to
see through it to the contents inside. She wouldn't have been
surprised if he had X-ray vision.

Lainie straightened her spine and slipped
into the cool, efficient persona she adopted for work. "The store
is absolutely lovely. Your daughter is the owner, isn't she? She's
wonderful and, from all appearances, quite successful. You must be
proud of her. Now, if you'll excuse me." Without giving him a
chance to say a word, she turned on her heels and headed up the
staircase to her room.

Once she was safely inside, she set the bag
on her dresser and took a deep breath, fanning herself. It was
becoming more and more difficult maintaining her cool façade in
front of him.

It was quite embarrassing actually. She was
a forty-seven year old woman, not a naïve girl with a crush.

Calling this a crush was like calling a
tsunami a ripple. She'd never felt this way for anyone before. She
wasn't sure how it'd happened. If she had to pinpoint a defining
moment, it might have been between the second and third year she
worked for him, the day she found the pictures hidden in his
desk.

She hadn't been sure who they were, but the
fact that they were there, in an office otherwise devoid of
personal effects, showed how much they meant to him. It also showed
the loneliness he hid beneath his powerful exterior.

The same loneliness she hid inside.

Lainie smoothed her hair back into the
twist. Whatever inspired it, she was deeply and irrevocably in love
with Everett Parker.

She just had to figure out what to do about
it.

Wiping her face free of expression, she
grabbed her laptop and went downstairs. Everett waited for her in
the living room, sitting in an old, plush chair.

Lainie straightened her skirt as she sat
down across from him. She readied herself for the meeting,
conscious of his gaze.

She was braced when he said, "To tell you
the truth, Elaine, I'm surprised you went to Olivia's
boutique."

"I'm not sure why you should be," she said
in her most offhand voice.

"What did you think of her?"

"Olivia's quite a business woman. She takes
one look at you and knows what to show you. Like she can see your
weakness."

"And she pinpointed your weakness?"

"Perfectly," she said crisply, not allowing
herself to analyze the overtones in the question. "She's astute and
charming. Quite like you, actually."

"Hmm."

Trying to ignore his unnerving scrutiny,
Lainie booted her laptop. "Her boyfriend seems quite enamored of
her as well."

"Her boyfriend?"

Lainie glanced up at the subtle edge in his
voice. "Yes. They look good together, both being so tall and
dark."

"I see."

Before she could say anything else, the
front door creaked open and Michael rushed in.

Lainie liked Michael Wallace. He wasn't a
prima donna like a lot of the directors she had to deal with.
People often misinterpreted his attitude as being unreasonable, but
he knew his work and worked unfailingly to achieve the high ideals
he set for himself.

"Parker," Michael said curtly, nodding in
greeting to her. He dropped down on the couch next to her and
leaned forward. "We have a problem."

Lainie looked at her screen
and opened her notes on the project.
Love
Unbound.
The story of a burnt out actress
coming home. Finds herself and love in the boy she left behind. The
part of Angel to be played by Sophie Martineau.

Lainie grimaced internally. Sophie wasn't
the most cooperative actress in Hollywood. It wouldn't surprise her
if the problem was Sophie.

"Tell me," Everett said.

"We need to find a new location to shoot the
movie. The crew arrives at the end of the week, and the production
schedule doesn't give us much leeway to dick around."

"We're shooting here on Pembroke Farm."
Parker's tone brooked no argument.

Michael stiffened. Lainie sympathized. It
couldn't be easy to have someone dictate your job to you.

"It's not going to work here," Michael
insisted.

"You'll have to make it work. Remember our
deal," Everett said softly.

Lainie frowned. What deal? She didn't know
about any deal.

"Fuck." Michael jumped up and began to
pace.

Lainie looked back and forth between the two
men, wondering what was going on. She was missing something
here.

The young director stopped abruptly and
faced their boss. "You can't do this to her. It's one thing
shooting a film in her hometown, but in her home too? What kind of
coldhearted bastard are you?"

"What makes you think she'd care?" Everett
asked.

"Of course she cares. If you think
otherwise, you don't know your daughter at all. Or maybe you just
don't care about her." Michael stormed out the front door, letting
it slam viciously.

Now she knew who they were talking about,
but how did Michael know Olivia? And what was Everett up to?

"Michael seemed a bit upset," she said
lightly, ignoring the sharp frown Everett turned on her.

"He'll get over it."

"I'm not sure I understand
why he's against shooting
Love
Unbound
here." She hoped she didn't sound
like she was fishing but, knowing Everett, he'd see through her
like she was clear glass.

"He and Olivia were involved at one
time."

"Oh." She couldn't help the way her mouth
fell open before she could control her reaction. That added a whole
new dimension to the situation. The only thing it left unsolved was
what Everett was up to, and she had no doubt that he was definitely
up to something.

Chapter Eight

Laurel Heights was one of the nicer
neighborhoods in San Francisco. Stuffy even, with the expensive
looking women and their little pedigreed dogs. Like a less
pretentious LA.

Michael parked the rental and got out of the
car, looking around. He couldn't believe Olivia had ended up
opening a store her. Hard to reconcile the woman she was with the
girl she'd been eleven years ago.

But he was different too. Selling your soul
did that to you.

What was he supposed to have done? If not
for Parker, he'd still be trying to break into the business.

It'd been a dream-come-true. He couldn't
remember a time he hadn't wanted to make movies—from that Christmas
day when he was six and got his first hand-me-down Super 8 camera.
The rest was history.

He wished this movie was history.

Everything about
Love Unbound
was
wrong—from the storyline to the cast to the location. He combed his
hand through his hair. As if it wasn't enough that he had to deal
with being back in Northern California
and
seeing Olivia, having to direct
Sophie Martineau was a one-way ticket to an insane asylum. Early in
both their careers they'd worked together, and it wasn't an
experience he'd cared to repeat. Ever.

Parker knew that, but the man wasn't even
bothering to be subtle. The whole movie was a set-up. A story about
a burnt-out actress coming home to hook up with her high school
love? Come on. Sophie Martineau playing the lead? Any pretense of
staying on schedule and under budget might as well be dispensed
with right from the start. And shooting on Granny Mae's farm?

But a set-up for what? To fail?

Failing meant he couldn't get out of his
indenture to Parker Pictures.

Michael shook his head, looking at Romantic
Notions's storefront down the block. That didn't ring true. Parker
was after something else.

Time enough to figure that out later. Now he
had to concentrate on the matter at hand—Olivia. He stuck his hands
in his pocket, touched the locket, and headed to Romantic
Notions.

He pushed open the door to Olivia's store
and stepped in. He looked to the counter, expecting to see Olivia,
but there was no sign of anyone.

The first time he came in, he'd been so
focused on Olivia he hadn't given the surroundings a second glance.
This time, he took his time to take in the ambiance and feel of her
store.

A couple plush velvet chairs were separated
by a coffee table laden with all sorts of magazines—fashion to
automotive. Display racks and tables showcased all sorts of
underwear, from the practical to the seductive in an array of
color. The smell of some flower tickled his nose, but it was light,
almost an afterthought.

Comfortable.

He'd bought his fair share of underwear for
girlfriends in the past and he'd never felt at ease in a lingerie
store. This was a store he could enjoy shopping at. He walked over
to a display and picked up a bottle. "Chocolate Topping for
Lovers," he read.

Was Olivia into this stuff? He pictured her,
naked, her wild hair tangled, her eyes wicked with intent. She was
crawling toward him, the jar of chocolate open. She stopped,
kneeling between his legs, and dipped a finger into the jar.
Slowly, never taking her eyes off his, she smeared the chocolate
across his abdomen. Leaning down, she licked a path from his belly
button, all the way to—

"What are you doing here?"

The arch question startled him out of his
fantasy. Michael looked up to see Olivia emerge from a burgundy
velvet curtain.

She wore a white T-shirt that was thin
enough to see the outline of her nipples.

He'd fantasized about the wrong thing. He
should have been imagining licking the chocolate off of her
magnificent breasts.

"What are you doing here?" she asked
again.

Dreaming about tonguing you
'til you scream.
He cleared his throat. "I
need to talk to you."

"We have nothing to talk about," she stated
flatly. She walked onto the floor, her hands full of new
merchandise.

"Need help?"

"What I need is for you to get out of my
store." She dropped the underwear on a table, moved aside old
merchandise, and arranged the new in its place.

The panties she arranged on the table caught
his attention. He glanced at her belly. In high school, she'd worn
plain white bikinis. What did she wear now?

He couldn't help himself. Like he was in a
trance, he weaved through the store, not stopping until he was
standing inches away from her. He reached around her, his arm
brushing hers.

She jumped. "What are you doing?"

Snaring a g-string from behind her, he
dangled it from the tip of his index finger. "Do you wear stuff
like this?"

She grabbed the scrap of lace from him.
"Don't touch my underwear."

His gaze dropped to her lips. An irrational
need to see how badly he could smear her dark lipstick spurred him
on. "You didn't used to mind."

"My standards were lower then."

"Ouch."

She placed her hand on his chest and moved
him back. "Get out of my store, and stay out of my life."

"What makes you think I want back into your
life?"

Her eyes narrowed, but the fury lighting
them was impossible to miss. "Then you must be here to make a
purchase. For a girlfriend? Unless you've taken up cross-dressing.
In which case I have a lovely satin teddy that'd do wonders for
your figure."

The fury in her eyes defeated him. Sticking
his hands in his pockets, he said softly, "Olivia, I didn't come
here to pick a fight with you. I just wanted to tell you that I'm
sorry. None of this was my idea. I'd change locations if I
could."

"But you can't, because you're my father's
lackey."

He didn't know what he wanted to do
more—shake her or kiss her pouty lips. "Fact of the matter is I'm
as pissed as you are about this, babe. Do you really think I want
to be around you any more than you want to be around me?"

He saw the barb strike and root deep, just
as he intended. Surprisingly, instead of the satisfaction he
expected to feel, he felt remorse.

"Point taken." The redness climbing up her
cheeks belied her cool tone. "Don't let me keep you then."

Mesmerized by the sway of her ass, Michael
watched her disappear into the back.

"Damn." He raked his hair back. That didn't
go how he envisioned it. But then, with Olivia, nothing ever seemed
to go right.

Chapter Nine

Ignoring the late morning bustle of the
coffee shop, Parker studied the man in front of him. There wasn't
anything he could find fault with.

He didn't like that.

Rick Clancy leaned back in his chair, sipped
his coffee, and returned Parker's measured stare. "Why don't you
tell me how I can help?"

"I have a matter that needs to be looked
into. Discreetly."

Clancy nodded. "Discretion's part of the
business."

"I have reason to believe company
information is being leaked to the press. News and tabloids."
Parker paused to take in Clancy's reaction. The man's expression
didn't betray a single thought. "I'm sure you understand that in a
business like mine, this can be disastrous. The gossip behind a
film can drastically affect the outcome of its release."