When Lightning Strikes (6 page)

“Don’t.” Ian broke into her thoughts.

She lifted her head. “Don’t what?”

“Back out. You’re Simon’s only hope for getting even partial
custody of his kid. He’s counting on you.”

But what about her family? “What if something goes wrong—we
can’t get along or…whatever? I don’t want to make matters worse.”

“This marriage won’t be easy, but if anyone can do it, you can.
I’ve never met a more talented publicist.”

“Really?” His confidence in her actually made her feel a bit
better. She eyed him, wondering what he was about to add that would twist the
compliment into something less flattering, but he seemed to be in earnest.

He lowered his voice as if he thought their host might be
standing outside the door. “This will give Simon a second chance. I think he
deserves one, if that makes any difference.”

Someone as shallow as Ian probably wasn’t the best judge of
character. But it would give Big Hit PR a second chance, too. Considering the
money she stood to make, she’d have her payroll covered for a long time, even if
things turned bad again. But could she really do this? Could she placate her
family and friends with calls and emails for a few months by pleading Simon’s
busy schedule?

If so, maybe she could convince her “husband” to visit Whiskey
Creek for Christmas. Or at least let
her
return for
a visit. “This is going to require such a commitment,” she said, feeling the
weight of it. “And for so long.”

“Not
that
long, not as far as
marriages go. Think of it as a job, like you told Simon to do.” He bent at the
waist to catch her eye. “Okay?”

The years she’d toiled to get on top came to mind. So did the
fact that she had nowhere to go if this didn’t work out. She couldn’t bear the
thought of moving back home; she’d done everything she could to escape Whiskey
Creek the first time. “Okay.”

“You’re making the commitment?”

She stood. “I’m making the commitment.”

He crossed to the minibar and brought the prenup they’d
painstakingly devised on the phone last night. “So when should we have the
wedding?”

She glanced over the legalese Simon’s attorneys had thrown
together on short notice, made sure everything was in order and signed before
panic could overtake her. “A month from now is the earliest we could have the
ceremony and make the relationship seem credible. Check Simon’s schedule. See if
he’s free the first Saturday in November.”

“I’ll clear off whatever else he has going.”

“What are you going to tell Chelsea Seagate?”

“Nothing. I’ve already called her to say we’re canceling our
contract with Pierce Mattie and returning to you.”

She wished she could take some small pleasure in that.
“Fine.”

When she handed him the contract, he smiled in apparent relief.
“Thanks. First Saturday, private ceremony in Vegas. The two of you will take his
jet, of course. But that doesn’t give us much time to prepare.”

“Then we’d better get to work.” She left the house but stopped
in the drive, her finger hovering over the send button on the pictures he’d
emailed her. Once she forwarded them to Josh and he leaked them to his friend at
Hollywood Secrets Revealed,
there’d be no
turning back.

A creeping sensation gave her the feeling that she was being
watched. Twisting around, she spotted movement in a second-story window. It was
Simon, looking out at her. They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then she
held up her phone to let him know they were at the point of no return.

After a slight hesitation, he nodded, and she pressed Send.

7

G
ail hadn’t expected her other life, the
life she’d known in Whiskey Creek, to intrude quite so quickly. But as she
walked into the office, which was closed up and dark on a Saturday afternoon,
Callie Vanetta, a member of the clique she’d grown up with, tried to reach her
on her cell phone. Gail let it go to voice mail because she wasn’t sure she
wanted to talk to anyone from Whiskey Creek at the moment. She’d just left
Simon’s and hardly felt prepared.

“You okay?”

She was standing in the middle of her office, staring at her
phone and feeling guilty about avoiding Callie when she heard Josh’s voice. She
glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see him in the doorway. Her employees
typically took weekends off, unless they were working on a big project. When
she’d sent Josh the pictures, she’d assumed he was home and would forward them
from there. But he knew she spent most weekends in her office, catching up on
what she hadn’t been able to finish during the week. Considering what was going
on, he’d probably made a special trip to see her.

“I’m fine, why?”

“You need me to explain?”

She turned to face him. “No.” She knew perfectly well why he’d
asked.

“So?” Eyes wide with curiosity, he closed the door. She wasn’t
sure why, since they were alone. Just more of his sense of drama, she supposed.
“Give me the lowdown. How’d it go?”

Could she classify the meeting she’d had with Simon and Ian as
good?
They’d worked out a lot of details,
launched “The Plan.” But whether or not they’d regret what they’d started
remained to be seen. “Simon’s in.” That was about all she could say, all that
was certain.

“I figured, when you sent me those pictures. It’s the dirty
details I’m after.” His voice took on a husky undertone. “Were you two really
kissing in that photo? Or did it just look that way?”

They hadn’t kissed. But they’d stood awfully close. Close
enough so she could smell the toothpaste on Simon’s breath. Close enough to feel
the warmth radiating from his body. When her breasts accidentally grazed Simon’s
arm as Ian pressed them into ever more compromising positions, she’d jumped back
as if he’d burned her, and Simon had scowled.

Maybe she
had
overreacted. But that
brief contact had sent a jolt through her.

“It was all staged,” she assured Joshua. “We weren’t
kissing.”

He flopped into a seat. “How disappointing.”

It
had
been a little anticlimactic
to continue their discussion while her heart was pounding like a jackhammer.
Thanks to her line of work, she associated with the rich and famous quite often,
but she’d never gotten so worked up over anyone else. In an effort to fight the
effect Simon was having on her, she’d searched his face, only inches above her
own, for one significant flaw, something to convince her that he wasn’t as
attractive as she’d originally thought—and found nothing.

His eyes were especially distinctive. An unusual sea-green
color contrasted with thick black lashes and even thicker eyebrows, they
reflected too much cynicism. That wasn’t attractive, but there was a hint of the
lost little boy in there, too. His fine build, combined with those eyes and that
sense of hidden vulnerability, packed a punch that had left her reeling.

She’d been pleased to find his bottom teeth slightly
crowded.

Not that such a small imperfection really mattered. Thanks to
Shiver,
his last suspense thriller, she’d seen
what he could do to a woman with his lips and tongue.

“You should’ve made out with him,” Joshua said.

She pulled a skeptical face. “Right. In front of Ian?”

“Why not? He was
hoping
to get a
steamy pic. You could’ve blamed it on the PR campaign. I can’t believe you
missed the opportunity to indulge.
I
would’ve made
out with him to my heart’s content.”

Instead, she’d been clinging to her control, trying not to get
swept up in the lust surging through her veins. “Simon’s too feminine for my
taste.”

“Are you
kidding?
”

Kidding herself, maybe. High cheekbones and a prominent jaw,
not to mention the perennial shadow of beard growth, added more than enough of
the masculine to compensate for his pretty eyes and pouty lips. But she had to
create some kind of defense. There were moments when she was afraid the hero
worship she’d once felt would reassert itself and undermine what she knew of the
real Simon. “I’m just saying he looks like his mother more than he does his
father.”

“Doesn’t make him
feminine.
”

“Did you get those pictures off?” she asked instead of
responding.

“As soon as they hit my in-box.”

Rounding her desk, she straightened her blotter. “And…did you
get confirmation that they’ve been received?”

“Immediately. Sarah’s ecstatic about breaking the story—and
avoiding any heat from that other mess we created.”

“Good.”

“So.” He crossed his legs. “You’re sure you’ll be able to make
yourself go through with it? You’ll marry him?”

“I don’t see that I have any choice. I’ve already signed the
contract.”

Hanging his head, Joshua peered at her through the hair, dyed a
stark black instead of his usual brown, falling into his eyes. “I feel so bad
about what I did.”

“I know.”

“I endangered Sarah’s job, too.”

“Yes.” Gail drummed her fingers on the desk. “What’d her boss
say?”

“He’s every bit as excited as you’d expect. Anything Simon does
is big news.”

That picture they’d taken in the backyard would soon be online.
Other magazines and bloggers would jump on the publicity bandwagon before she
could blink.

Sick at the thought of all the calls that would pour in, how
she’d
become the focus of the paparazzi who’d
harried her biggest clients, Gail propped her chin on one fist. “Do you think
this is a disaster waiting to happen?”

“Could go either way, but you’re saving my ass by doing it, so
I can’t tell you how grateful I am.” He gave her a childlike smile. “Makes me
love you all the more, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t,” she said, but smiled back.

He sobered. “I deserve to be fired.”

“Except that you’ve been great at your job and I can’t judge
your entire performance by one stupid, drunken mistake.”

“I appreciate that. I really do.” His mood brightened. “Tell
you what—
I’ll
marry Simon.”

She pictured the fury in Simon’s face when she’d said what she
had about his family, or lack thereof. At this point, he’d probably prefer
anyone
to her—maybe even Josh. “I wish you could.”

She prided herself on being able to handle anything, but she
was out of her element here. Maybe she was better at running other people’s
lives than her own. “What if he won’t stop drinking?” she asked. “Or he secretly
bites his toenails? Or sleeps in a coffin? Or burns incense and offers up
prayers to his own picture?”

“All movie stars are eccentric—or get that way if they go
unchecked for too long. Just roll with it. The marriage is only temporary.”

Two years didn’t feel as short as he made it sound. “But he
might be more insufferable than I’m expecting. Maybe he’s…abusive.”

Josh grimaced. “He’s not abusive, not physically, anyway. With
his ex running her mouth to anyone who’ll listen, we would’ve heard about it if
he’d ever even threatened to hit her or the kid.”

“He’s hit a few guys,” she mused. “He got in that fight on-set,
remember?”

“I’m not likely to forget. That’s the reason you refused to
work for him anymore.”

Ignoring the censure in his voice, she proceeded to prove it
wasn’t the
only
reason. “What about that time a few
months ago when he tried to force his way into his ex-wife’s house and got in a
shoving match with her brother?”

“Maybe he had a good reason for what he did.”

“On
both
counts?”

“That’s how we tried to spin it,” he said with a shrug.

“He could’ve walked away.”

“We both know he’s not the type. Too short a fuse.”

“That’s no excuse.” She searched for other examples to support
her “Simon’s unstable” theory. “And those bikers?”

Joshua adjusted the scarf he wore with his pink button-down
shirt. “I think he
wanted
to get his ass kicked that
night. Why else would he drive to the shitty side of town and confront so many
dangerous gangbangers? He was all alone, had no chance from the beginning.”

That was what she thought, too. Nothing else made sense. After
the judge signed the restraining order that would keep Simon from his wife and
son, he found a seedy bar he later admitted he’d never been to before, one with
a row of motorcycles out front, and picked a fight with three Hells Angels. They
would’ve destroyed his face, maybe a lot more, if not for one of their own.
Fortunately, a member of the club happened to be a big fan. He saved Simon an
extended hospital stay by pulling the others off and pushing him out of the
joint while he could still walk—but the biker later confessed he was
disappointed that Simon didn’t really know kung fu. He’d expected more from him
after watching
Take It or Leave It,
Simon’s most
violent movie.

“Honestly? I think the worst he’s done is cheat,” Joshua
said.

“You say that like it’s nothing.”

“It’s nothing to you.”

She cocked her head in challenge. “I’m only his future
wife!”

He cocked his head right back at her, exaggerating the
movement. “But you don’t love him. Cheating on you would be more of a…breach of
contract.”

“It’ll be adultery to the rest of the world! And he might have
other problems, ones we haven’t discovered yet. Maybe he’s a sex addict.” He’d
certainly made a big enough deal about her refusal to service him....

“You should ask.”

“I did. Ian and I talked about the possibility last night. He
says no. Claims there were extenuating circumstances to Simon’s extramarital
affairs.”

“Like…he got bored and horny?” Josh said with a laugh.

“Ian doesn’t know for sure. He thinks she may have cheated
first, but he can’t substantiate that and it doesn’t really make sense. Wouldn’t
Simon have said so if it meant keeping custody of Ty?”

“No doubt.” Josh swung his foot. “You didn’t confront Simon
himself?”

“I’d already called him an alcoholic. I didn’t think it would
go over too well if I accused him of being a sex addict, too.”

“So what do you want me to say, Gail? Don’t do it?”

The anger drained out of her. “More or less.”

“Then don’t do it. We’ll…go into promoting beauty products or
something.”

If that happened, she’d have to start over alone. “What about
Sonya? And Serge? And you and everyone else? I
have
to do this.”

“Then keep Simon in bed.”

“
Excuse
me?”

Eager to convey his point, he leaned forward. “If you’re so
worried he might stray, keep him in bed, darling. Don’t give him time for anyone
else.”

Sometimes Gail wished she could be as sexually unfettered as
her assistant. She was beginning to feel a lot older than she was.

What are you doing this
weekend?

Working.

Any plans for Friday night?

Catching up on some paperwork.

Tell me you have a hot date for
Valentine’s Day.

With my television.

She’d fallen to a new low when she went to a movie alone on her
birthday. She was still mad at herself for not heading back to Whiskey Creek,
but she’d been so slammed with new clients she hadn’t wanted to take the time
off.

“Thanks for that piece of advice, but I don’t want to talk
about what I should do to keep Simon interested on a sexual level.” He wasn’t
interested to begin with.

“Why not? You can do it. So what if you’re a late starter?”

“I’m not a late starter. I’m
selective.
”

Josh formed a steeple with his fingers. “You didn’t lose your
virginity until you were twenty-six. That definitely qualifies as a late
start.”

She should never have admitted that. Josh had a way of getting
personal information out of anyone.

“I was twenty-
five,
” she corrected.
“But who’s keeping track?”

“Just me.”

“Thanks for that.”

“Maybe it’s good you’re tying the knot. Maybe this is the only
way you’ll ever say ‘I do,’ seeing as you cross every guy off your list before
you even give him a chance.”

“Before I sleep with him, you mean.”

“Same thing.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Not quite.”

A soft knock interrupted them, which surprised her. She’d
figured they were alone.

Bracing herself in case it was the beginning of the media
onslaught—some reporter who’d somehow gotten in—Gail called out, “Yes?”

It wasn’t a reporter. It was Ashley, her receptionist, who
poked her head into the room. “Thought I might catch you here.”

“What brings you to the office on your day off?” Gail
asked.

“The answering service contacted me. They’re being inundated
with calls from a guy with
The Star,
who claims he
has to talk to someone in the office right away.” Barely five feet, Ashley
looked more like a child than a twenty-one-year-old woman. Her large-framed
glasses added to the effect; they always gave Gail the impression she was
playing dress-up. “I thought maybe it was important, that someone should get
back to him.”

Joshua’s eyes latched on to Gail’s. “You know what this
means.”

“I do. Word is getting out.” It was time to quit fighting what
she’d agreed to do and throw herself into her role. If they had any hope of
pulling off this campaign, there could be no halfway measures. She had to play
the part even for her own employees.